Drake (The Kings of Guardian Book 11) Read online

  The chief let out a big sigh and smiled for the first time. "So just checking in as a courtesy?"

  "Affirmative. As a federal agent, you're aware that I'm carrying, and I know you need to know I'm here on official business."

  "Where are you going?" The chief leaned forward and grabbed his pen looking up at Drake expectantly.

  "Engineering Department."

  The chief cocked his head and scribbled something down. "Who are you seeing?"

  "Doctor Heathcliff O'Rourke."

  The chief lifted his head. "O'Rourke in any trouble?"

  Drake shook his head. "He's our complainant."

  The chief focused on the paper again and mumbled, "Good. Good." He scribbled a few more words and finished his writing with a flourish. "Present this if you get stopped by anyone."

  Drake extended his hand and took the paper from the Chief. After a glance at it, he smiled. "Did you just give me a hall pass?" He couldn't help but laugh. That shit was funny.

  The man's brow furrowed. "No, Mr. Simmons, I just gave you a get out of jail free card." The chief stood up and extended his hand again, although his smile was missing this time. Drake ate his laughter and hid his smile as he shook the man's hand and pocketed his hall pass. If he needed a get out of jail free card, he only had to make one call to Guardian.

  Chapter 2

  "Okay, I understand that maybe things are a little too closely connected, but why did you have to call them?" Jillian Law sat in the front row of her foster father's lecture hall. It could hold over a hundred people but currently held only two. Herself and Doctor Heathcliff O'Rourke, father by choice, not birth.

  "They happen to be federal law enforcement officials." He closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair sliding his hands over his stomach and linking his fingers. "Besides I trust them. If they don’t think I need to worry, I’ll drop it." He cocked his head at her and narrowed his eyes.

  No, he wouldn’t, but Jillian appreciated the attempt on his part. She didn’t call him on his fib and checked the clock behind her dad's head. "They were supposed to be here by now."

  Her father tipped his head back to look at the clock. His long hair flopped over the back of the chair. His t-shirt, blue jeans, and tennis shoes were a far cry from the other professors' garb, but her dad had always marched to the beat of his own drum. He was a hippie from the sixties, living by necessity in the new millennia. Woodstock was his chosen era. Apparently, the creator of the universe hadn't gotten the memo. He made a non-committal noise as he righted himself. "So why the angst about me calling them?" His question got straight to the point. He always did.

  She shrugged. "Angst?" She chuckled and shook her head. "No, not really. I agree that the things that have been happening are really weird, but aren't we starting at the top of the pyramid here? Maybe I should talk to some of the local authorities?"

  Jillian threw the carrot out there and hoped that Cliff would nibble on it. He gave a noncommittal sound. Her reservations centered on a man she'd crushed on throughout her last two years of high school and into college—a man she just did not want to see. She blushed at the memory of her affection for the brothers in general, but more so for her adolescent and then young adult lust for tall, quiet Drake. Shit, she'd been so in love with him—in the soul-crushing way that only a teenager could fall prey to—desperate and needy, with a side order of hero-worship. She’d never had a problem telling the twins apart. She could see the subtle differences no one else seemed to pick out. Yeah, her first love. The way she'd idolized him was epic, and the poor man didn't even know she existed. Jillian snorted at her own folly.

  Her father's eyes cut to her. "What?"

  "Nothing. Just thinking about things." She smoothed a shiny veneer over a version of the truth she'd be comfortable sharing with her father. Her blush deepened. God, she really needed to grow up. There was no way either of the twins ever noticed her. At least not in the way she wanted. God knows she tried to get their attention and failed. She cringed internally. Failed wasn't the proper verb. Perhaps bombed, blundered, flopped, crashed...yeah, any of those would better describe her ridiculousness.

  Jillian drew a circle with her fingertip on the surface below her hand. Growing up she'd been thin to the point her tormentors called her SG. It was short for skeleton geek. Her glasses were thick and heavy, sliding down her nose. It seemed her index finger's permanent position was between her eyes pushing her glasses back into place. But as a freshman in college, emboldened by a love so deep and fierce, Jillian went shopping. She bought a dress that revealed more skin than she'd ever dared show before. At eighteen, she went to a salon for the first time and had her hair cut and styled. The purpose? There was a Sadie Hawkins dance at the college, and she'd finally built up enough nerve to ask Drake to take her.

  Jillian glanced at Cliff who seemed to be fascinated with the toe of his sneaker. She bit the inside of her lip thinking about that day. She knew Dixon and Drake always stopped by her father’s office at the University of Louisville after classes, so she'd timed her arrival to coincide. She would wait for her moment and then ask Drake to take her to the dance. It was a perfect plan until Sissy Calhoun literally pushed her aside in the hall and snuggled up to Drake. Jillian was three feet away from him, three feet away from asking the man she adored to go to the dance with her. Everything she'd tried shattered when Sissy said, "Hey Drake, will you take me to the Sadie Hawkins dance?"

  She couldn't recall Drake's answer because Sissy slid a hostile glance back toward her like she'd oozed out of some hole in the ground. Hearing what he said wasn't important. One look from that girl had shattered her carefully constructed confidence. The moment crushed her. Absolutely decimated her. She went home and folded the dress carefully before she placed it in the back of the closet and then stood under the shower until it ran cold. There was no way she could compete for Drake's attention with the likes of Sissy. It took months before she gathered enough shards of confidence to back up, strategize and come up with a plan to make Drake notice her. Drake had no problem attracting women. She’d seen the woman who flirted with him on campus, and she lacked the physical blessings to compete with them.

  Jillian drew a deep breath and glanced at the clock again. The twins were definitely late. She closed her eyes. No, she couldn't have competed on a physical level with all those women, so she used a weapon most of the other women didn't or couldn't use. She met the twins on an academic level. That's when she discovered her love for science and then fell in love with mechanical engineering. Okay, maybe her initial interest was prompted because the twins were studying in the field, but the journey left a seed, and the seed blossomed into a wonderful career.

  A sound from her father stopped her memory-driven stroll down "Remember When Lane". Cliff stood and stretched. Fifty-four-years old and both male and female coeds routinely hit on him. His long brown hair, close-cropped beard, and brilliant smile made him irresistible to just about everyone. The gray he did have only accented his handsome features. Jillian loved the man more than almost anyone on the planet. He'd rescued her and her brother from a life of bouncing from foster home to foster home. Back in Louisville, her brother Matthew had no interest in academia and was happily married with the proverbial two point five kids, dog, and white picket fence. He was an electrician and ran his own business. Matt had struggled at times, but Cliff had always been there for both of them.

  The fact that Cliff would always take care of them was why she was squirming on her seat in her father's lecture hall waiting for Dixon and Drake Simmons to walk through those doors.

  "When was the last time you talked to them?" Her father walked over to where she was sitting and leaned against the first row of desktops.

  USB ports and electrical outlets for the students’ computers and electronics dotted the seating area. She reached over and shut an open pop up port as she spoke so she wouldn’t have to look at her father. "I haven't seen or spoken to them since they left to join military." Drake'
s leaving had left her empty, so she buried her unrequited feelings and got on with her life. She'd gone on to get her master's degree and then her doctorate. Since graduating she'd worked in several positions before she developed and patented technology that three world-wide companies had paid through the nose to use. Now she rented space in one of the best labs in the country and worked for herself.

  "Seriously, not once since they left? Huh." Her father glanced at his watch and shook his head.

  "Why, when was the last time you talked to them?"

  "Three days ago."

  Jillian laughed and pushed his arm making him sway. "Stop being so damn literal."

  Cliff laughed and rearranged his hip against the sturdy, raised partition. "We talk about three or four times a year. They are living in the Midwest now.

  "You never told me you spoke with them so regularly. Why are they living in the Midwest? I thought you said they worked for Guardian Security? Isn't that company headquartered in Washington D.C.?" She recalled every minute detail her father had ever told her about the twins. Rather pathetic, but it was the truth.

  Her father tipped his head. "They do. I don't know what they are doing out there in the land of corn and cows, but I think they’ve lived there for three or four years now." He stroked his closely shaved beard as he spoke. "Shame they didn't pursue their education. They could have made a major impact in the world. I wonder if they know the lives they could have changed."

  "Actually, we do make one hell of an impact, but if you ever heard about it, it would mean we'd failed."

  Jillian snapped her head toward the door. Oh. My. God. There was no way. The twenty-year-old version of her crush shattered and fell at her feet replaced by a very adult lust for the tall, muscular man who sauntered toward them. Cowboy boots, blue jeans, a white long-sleeved shirt, a leather belt and a buckle the size of a salad plate adorned one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen.

  Cliff gave a laugh and pushed off the partition, meeting the Greek god halfway. They gripped hands and then hugged. She heard a mumbled greeting between the men before her father turned towards her.

  "You remember Jillian?"

  Yes, Drake remembered, but that beautiful woman could not be Jillian. There was no way that skinny, bespectacled mouse of a girl was the woman sitting in front of him. Holy shit, the sweet, shy, nerdy teenager with braces and glasses that were too thick and kept sliding down her nose was not the woman he was staring at. Couldn't be.

  "Silly Jilly?" Surprised, Drake let the nickname slip out.

  "Oh, my God. Seriously? That is how you remember me? By the name Sara Jane Mathison and her clique of cheerleading clones coined?"

  The woman's face flamed in mortification. The deep rose-colored blush went well with her dark blond hair. Her eyes were huge, brown and beautiful. It was amazing what her old coke bottle thick glasses had hidden.

  Drake laughed at her embarrassment and walked over, extending his hand. "Sorry, I wouldn't have recognized you if I passed you in the street. You've changed." He took her hand and smiled at her as he held it. "In the best way possible."

  “You, too.” Her eyes widened as if her words surprised her. Yep, that was a slip of the tongue. A fresh wave of red climbing her cheeks attested to it. She pulled her hand back, and he released it, reluctantly.

  Drake swung his attention back toward Cliff. "Dixon is on an assignment. He sends his regards."

  "I'm sorry for asking you to come out here, but I didn't know what else to do." Cliff motioned toward a seat beside Jillian. Drake didn't mind that at all. He was all about getting closer to the woman. He walked behind the partition and was glad that he did. She was wearing a tight skirt with a generous slit that exposed shapely, toned legs. He took in the expanse of skin without lingering, although he'd have loved to take the time to examine every way Silly Jilly had grown.

  He sat down and leaned back in his chair. "So, what has you concerned?" Cliff hadn't gone into specifics on the phone, so he was curious.

  "Well, I think someone is trying to kill Jillian."

  Cliff's words were no sooner out of his mouth than Jillian piped up, "You're overreacting. Nobody is trying to kill me—"

  "Whoa!" Drake leaned forward, his single strongly enunciated word silencing her objection midsentence.

  "Let's take this from the top. What's going on?" Jill opened her mouth and Drake immediately put up a finger. "Why don't we let Cliff explain why he's concerned then you can refute any of the allegations he makes after he makes them." He raised an eyebrow and held her chocolate brown gaze for a couple of seconds before she narrowed her eyes and gracefully leaned back into her chair. Ah, Jilly has a temper. Good to know.

  As much as he'd wanted to keep his focus on the beautiful revelation next to him, he couldn't. He returned his attention to his mentor and friend. "Present your facts, Cliff."

  The man in front of him gave him a quick smile. "You learned well, young grasshopper."

  "I had a fantastic mentor." Drake leaned forward on his forearms and gave Cliff his undivided attention.

  Cliff smiled briefly and stroked his beard. "Jillian came out here to do a guest lecture series for my class. Her accomplishments in the networked and interconnected systems of Control Theory are leading the nation, well for that matter, the world."

  Drake swung his head toward Jilly. To say he was impressed would be an understatement. "Congratulations. What field, specifically?"

  "Sustainable power."

  She didn't elaborate, and as intrigued as he was with the field of study, now wasn't the time to ask her to expand. Not that she probably gave a shit, but Drake acknowledged her work and dedication, because, fuck him, to get to that level took determination. "I'm impressed."

  She blushed again and glanced toward her father. Cliff held up one finger. "Three days after she arrived, she was nearly run over."

  Jillian leaned forward. "Counterpoint. The campus police said the vehicle was stolen and they believed the driver wasn't trying to kill me as much as he was trying to flee the scene of his own crime." She leaned back in her seat and cocked her head at her father. Drake swiveled his head toward Cliff.

  "You sprained your wrist." Her father hit the remark across the net, and Drake followed the lob to Jilly.

  She lifted up her wrist. An ugly purple bruise trailed from her wrist down the length of her forearm. "I'm fine. It's just a little boo-boo, dad."

  "Well, if that's a little boo-boo, I don't want to know what you call an injury," Cliff responded and then held up a second finger stilling Jill's retort.

  "Four days after you get here you get a call, from the San Jose police. They told you your apartment had been broken into."

  Jillian held up her hand stopping her father. "They also said, as you heard, that there were several break-ins in a five-block radius." She shrugged, "I haven't been home a lot. If someone were looking for an easy target, my apartment would be it." She batted her eyes at him and gave him a smile. The woman was enjoying the debate and Drake could tell Cliff was becoming frustrated with the way she was playing it off.

  "That same day, earlier in the morning, you were mugged going across campus to get us coffee. Your computer satchel was stolen."

  "There was nothing in my satchel but my driver’s license and sixty-five dollars in cash, several old newspapers and my rental car agreement. My computer and tablet were here with you."

  "In broad daylight?" Drake asked shifting his gaze between the two.

  "Yeah, just before noon. As Dad said, I was heading to the coffee shop across campus. They have great iced coffees and lunch bagels."

  "Did you get a look at the guy? Did you call campus security?"

  "Dad called security. I gave them my statement. I saw him because I wasn't giving up my bag without a fight. He was older than a typical college student, although he was dressed in jeans and a hoodie as if he was dressing to fit in. He had brown hair, scruff and was built. Muscular. I screamed and fought to draw a crowd. He rippe
d my bag from my hands." Jilly turned and looked directly at her father. "He's also limping because I kicked his knee. Hard."

  Cliff groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. "I know there isn't a lot here Drake, but when we tell you what Jillian has invented, you'll understand why I'm so concerned.”

  Drake swiveled his gaze from Cliff to Jilly. "Do tell."

  "Yeah, okay." She drew a breath as if gathering her thoughts. "I've reached a solution for miniaturizing photovoltaic panels for solar arrays."

  Drake's eyes widened at her comment. “You’ve found a way to shrink huge solar panels into something small?” His brows furrowed. "How?"

  "It was a simple idea really. In the current technology, the sun's rays excite electrons in silicon cells using the photons of light from the sun."

  "Correct. We've used the technology extensively at the complex where I work." Drake glanced at her, encouraging her to continue.

  "Well, as you know there is a significant decrease if the PV panels are not positioned correctly or are shaded. The efficiency of the power transfer is horrendous."

  Drake agreed. "From personal experience with our solar arrays, I’ve determined that if even one cell is shaded our energy gather could drop by fifty percent."

  "Right, but that is because the PV panels are massive and interconnected. I've developed a single contained unit, the approximate size of a loaf of bread, that does the work of an entire array. The module follows the sun through its orbit, receiving the most sun possible. As I stated earlier, the massive panels are inefficient. After all, we are only talking photons that excite electrons. Billions of those particles can fit in the space of my fingertip. I've used nanotechnology, some of which is my proprietary tech, to reduce the footprint without marginalizing the energy that can be produced. Additionally, by activating a small charge into the chamber as the reaction occurs, the dynamic of the interchange between the photons and electrons is elongated, creating more energy with less exposure. I can show you the science behind it." She shrugged. "PV74589V-1 is my baby.”