“He reads human emotions,” Kelly said, already dipping the needle into Cassandra’s arm. “It doesn’t work on GTECHs. He senses fear, worry, and happiness. He says it’s like seeing a color in his mind.”
“So,” Cassandra said. “Does he have the extra chromosome? Is that what creates unique abilities?”
“He doesn’t have the extra chromosome. At least not yet. It is possible that he will, and it has yet to surface. Michael’s ability with the wind surfaced very early after his conversion to GTECH, as did Adam’s ability to communicate with wolves. Caleb’s ability is more recent. I really have nothing conclusive that indicates why certain GTECHs have special skills though it would be interesting to know if Adam has that chromosome.”
Cassandra grimaced. “I’m glad we don’t know. That would be just one more reason for Michael to compare himself to Adam.”
“No matter how Michael demonizes this chromosome or himself, scientifically, I theorize it’s a sign of the GTECHs evolving and getting stronger. I’d like the chance to prove that. If you can influence Michael to allow me to do some more testing, that would be helpful. I plan to ask Caleb to talk to him as well, but I can’t catch up to him. He’s been behind closed doors for hours.” She studied Cassandra. “Your eyes are almost back to normal.”
Cassandra’s hand went to her cheek, her heart twisting. “They are?” Already Michael was slipping away from her.
Kelly’s expression softened. “You really don’t want to leave him, do you?”
She shook her head. “I love him.”
“He loves you too, or he wouldn’t be so worried about you,” Kelly said, touching her arm. “Just keep telling him. You’ll get through.” She tapped her pocket. “Let me get this to the lab and make sure I feel good about you heading out in the morning. I assume it’s going to be at the crack of dawn. I can’t release you until I review the results.”
With a nod Cassandra stood up and followed Kelly to the door. “I’ll call you in a bit with the results.” Kelly reached for the door, and Cassandra felt the shimmer of awareness ripple down her spine. Caleb was standing in the doorway, Michael and Sterling by his side. Kelly looked over her shoulder at Cassandra and winked. “You really have a way of drawing men, girl.” She eyed Caleb. “We need to talk when you’re done here.”
Cassandra’s heart fluttered in her chest, and she backed into the room, ever aware of Caleb in the lead, not Michael. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her gaze seeking Michael’s and colliding with the force of a freight train. He was withdrawn, distant in a way that wrenched her heart.
“We need your help, Cassandra,” Caleb said as the three of them took positions inside the room, all in their black fatigues. Warriors preparing for battle, she thought.
Her gaze lingered on Michael a moment and then jerked to Caleb. “Anything,” she promised.
He motioned her to the couch. Cassandra perched on the edge. Sterling sat down next to her and opened his laptop case. Caleb sat down in the chair beside them. Michael kept his distance, while Caleb told her about Brock calling for her. Despite her attentiveness to Caleb, Cassandra was aware of Michael every second, standing above them, his eyes half veiled by those thick black lashes, his expression unreadable.
“We both heard Brock say in that Washington alley that he wants the serum,” Michael said. “He’ll get it however he can. There is no way to know if his call is motivated by your father or Adam. It could simply be that one of the men at your condo saw us together, and your father is trying to ensure your return by baiting you with information about Red Dart. But that doesn’t mean Brock isn’t still trying to kill you. It simply means your father gave him the opportunity.”
“The bottom line, Cassandra,” Caleb said, “is we’re ending this tomorrow night.”
Her eyes went to Michael’s. “What does that mean?” she asked, willing him to answer.
Caleb replied before he could. “We’ve confirmed Michael’s mother has some connection to your father. We’ll search her place, your father’s, and Taylor Industries, tomorrow night. And we’ll be leaving with your father. He’ll be a prisoner in Sunrise City, which we hope will encourage him to tell us where Red Dart is located. We’d like you to return that phone call. Make him feel everything is as it should be. Convince him you’re returning tomorrow.”
“You say that like I’m not returning,” she said, surveying their faces and realizing that was their intention. “I have to go back. You say my father knows Michael is involved, that he most likely knows I’ve had contact with Michael. If I don’t go back and convince him everything is okay, he’ll disappear with Red Dart before you can get to him.”
“No,” Michael said authoritatively. “I will not allow you to take that risk.”
She leveled him in a direct stare. “This is my decision.” She glared at Michael a moment and then looked at Caleb. “Let’s make that phone call. To Brock first. Then to my father.”
Caleb glanced at Michael, arched a brow. “She’s making sense,” he said. “She needs to return. We’ll protect her, Michael.”
The room ticked with thick silence before Michael looked at her. “You’ll wear a wire and do exactly as I tell you.”
“Of course,” she said, feeling victorious in a way that held no glory. She was betraying her father. That was nothing to embrace, yet she had no other option.
Sterling handed her the phone, and everyone put some sort of ear buds on to listen to her conversation that he explained blocked out more noise. They dialed Brock first, and Cassandra assured him she was coming to work the next day and thanked him for talking to her father on her behalf. She vowed to be objective about Red Dart, promising she would not make him look bad.
Next up—her father. That was the call she dreaded. “Hello, General,” she said, trying not to sound strained.
“Cassandra, sweetheart,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“My headache is better, but there’s something else. A problem.”
A pause, a mere second, but it was there, rich with tension. “What is it?”
“Michael approached me today,” she said. “He says he’s working for the Renegades now.”
“You saw Michael?” snapped her father.
“Yes,” she said. “For coffee. He showed up at my door, and I felt trapped so I made the suggestion. I thought a public place was best. But it was horrible. I was a nervous wreck.”
Powell inhaled deeply. “Don’t you worry, little one. I’ll handle this with Caleb and make it clear that Michael is not to be allowed near you. He will not hurt you.”
They exchanged a few more words and hung up. Cassandra handed Sterling the phone, her hand unsteady. “Now I have an explanation for being with Michael if one of his men reported seeing us together.”
“That was damn convincing,” Sterling said approvingly. “That bought us time. I know it did.”
“Thank you, Cassandra,” Caleb said.
Michael said nothing. He wouldn’t even look at her. He was angry. And she had no doubt they would have an explosive confrontation later. Cassandra watched in shock as Michael turned to follow Caleb from the room, and her restraint snapped. She was done playing tug-of-war with her emotions over Michael. “Don’t you dare walk out that door, Michael.”
He froze, the other two men smart enough to make a fast exit as they had once before that day. Slowly, he turned, the door still open. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears. “The problem with my father ends tomorrow night,” she said. “But whatever happens here tonight with us—that’s it, Michael. It ends, or it begins here.”
Brock had done everything Powell had ordered, including the call to Cassandra. He’d listened as Powell talked to his daughter on the phone, hoping like hell she didn’t say anything to piss her father off. He wanted out of confinement. He’d done as he was ordered. He’d called Cassandra. He’d done his part to lure her back home.
At least he was dressed now in army
-green fatigues and standing just outside the cage. Almost human, but not quite. He was jittery, and a damnable muscle in his jaw wouldn’t stop twitching—adrenaline hummed through his body like an electric current. Somehow, he kept a steady look, stood tall and proud. He was being tested. Could he be trusted outside the cage? A test he had to pass. He hadn’t signed up for bars. He’d signed up for the freedom that being the strongest, the fastest, and the most powerful of all GTECHs would give him.
Powell ended the call and glanced at the tech specialist sitting expectantly in front of a computer panel. The man glanced at him. “The call was scrambled and well done. This wasn’t an amateur job.”
Inhaling a breath, Powell nodded to the man. “Dismissed, Sergeant.” The man pushed to his feet and exited.
The minute he left, Powell glanced at Jocelyn who stood nearby. “Michael has most certainly corrupted my daughter. It is confirmed. She has betrayed me.”
Jocelyn inched closer. The scent of her raked through Brock’s senses and stirred some wild beastly lust. “I’m sorry,” she said to Powell. “What are you going to do?”
“There is only one thing we can do,” he stated. “Move forward with our plans and do so quickly and effectively.” He glanced at Brock. “You’re ready for action, aren’t you son?”
He saluted. “Yes, sir.” This was a total lie—he could barely focus on anything but the twitch in his jaw and the need to reach for Jocelyn and pull her close. But Brock would say anything to keep Powell—or the techs operating the remote sound signals—from shocking him again. He was pretty damn sure his brain would fry if they juiced him many more times.
“He isn’t ready for action,” she objected. “He shouldn’t even be outside that cage. Not until Dr. Chin figures out what is causing his aggressive behavior.”
He held up the remote. “I only have to punch this to control his aggression,” he proclaimed. “We do not have the luxury of time. Not with Michael breathing down my neck.” He inhaled deeply, as if he were inhaling power. “You will have my laser weapons ready, I assume?”
She hesitated and then nodded. “They’re in mass production even as we speak.”
“Excellent, Jocelyn,” he said, speaking to her, but looking at Brock. One hand went to her cheek, caressing it with the intimacy of a lover, while the other went to the remote around his neck—silently daring Brock to challenge him.
“Stop it, General,” Jocelyn said, trying to pull away, but Powell slid his hand around her neck and jerked her to him.
Brock started shaking with the effort to control himself. He could feel a little more of his sanity slipping away every time Powell punched that button. Brock turned away, walked to the cage, and shut himself inside, locking the door.
Powell smiled, a smug, “I am God” kind of smile. Then, despite her struggles against him, he kissed Jocelyn. Brock ground his teeth as she finally gave in to the kiss and wrapped her arms around Powell’s neck.
When finally Powell’s lips released hers, she was panting. “Why must you tease him so?”
“I was simply proving to you how ready he is for action,” he said. “You are his weakness and still he prevailed.” He brushed his lips over hers again, and Brock cringed at the wild noises filling the room, the grunts and growls he could not control.
“You’ve done well with Red Dart,” Powell said. “We are so close to everything we have dreamed of, my sweet. Do not let the grisly side of war detour you from the greatness of what we have set out to achieve.” He brushed hair from her eyes. “I must go now, but I will return tonight to finish our celebration.”
The growls slipped into Brock’s head, turned into black space. His hands clutched onto the bars. Time stood still.
“Brock.” The voice, soft and sweet, pulled him back into the light. He blinked, opened his eyes. Jocelyn stood outside the bars. He soaked in the big, blue, beautiful eyes, and then scanned the room.
“He’s gone,” she said. “He’s been gone for hours.” She stuck the key in the lock. “I made you dinner. You have to eat.”
“No!” he shouted, feeling the violence inside him and realizing what he had become. He was an animal, and Powell wanted to create an army just like him. “Do not open that door.”
She froze. “You have to eat.”
“Slide it through the bars,” he said. “I cannot be trusted with you, Jocelyn. I won’t be able to control myself.” She stepped back as if burned, and for that he was thankful. “Is this what you want to be a part of? Making more animals like myself?”
“Dr. Chin is doing lab work,” she said, her voice trembling. “He’s going to figure out how to fix whatever is happening to you.”
He laughed, bitter and suddenly angry—raging at her. “You bitch. You did this. Every time he jolts me, I get a little crazier. You can’t blame Chin. You want to, but you can’t. You fucking…” He opened his mouth to speak again, but his mind went black, words lodged in his throat. With a forced breath, he willed himself to calm. “I’m…sorry. I…don’t help him. You have to destroy Red Dart,” he said. “Stop Powell, before he—”
His eyes widened as Powell appeared behind Jocelyn, and pain shot through his body. Then everything went black.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Michael’s apartment had never felt so small as it did the moment Cassandra cornered him by that door, standing so close that he only had to reach out to touch her. “Is it that easy for you to walk out without a word?”
“It’s easier than being near you and knowing I can’t have you,” he confessed, his voice low, rough. Something savage and wild raked through his body, a demand that he claim his Lifebond.
“The only thing keeping you from having me, Michael, is you,” she said hoarsely. “I know about the extra chromosome, and you know what? I don’t care. I am your Lifebond. Whatever you are…we are.”
Her words twisted the hunger to gut-wrenching intensity. “There is no we, Cassandra,” he all but growled. “You said it ends or begins tonight. It ends.”
Dragging a breath, she leveled him in a challenging stare. “Be sure you mean that, Michael,” she said, her voice choked, emotional. “I waited two years for you. I didn’t even know I was waiting. I told myself I hated you. But I waited. I know that now. I looked at no other man. I wanted no other man. I knew somewhere deep inside me you would be back, that you had not betrayed me. I will not wait this time. I will move on. I will make a life for myself, and I will survive. So…if you say it ends here. It ends.”
The idea of another man touching her, holding her, making her moan…it ripped through his veins like acid boiling his blood. He shackled her wrists with his big hands and pressed her against the wall, pinning her arms over her head with one hand, the thick ridge of his cock pressed to her stomach. “You will not let another man touch you,” he growled.
Her chin lifted. “You cannot have it both ways, Michael. Either you are with me, or you are not. There is no in-between. Not anymore. I won’t live like that.”
For a moment, he squeezed his eyes closed, reached for control where there seemed none to be found. “Intentionally pushing me is dangerous, Cassandra,” he warned. “Didn’t you listen to those women at that table today?”
“I listened to them,” she said. “And I know you. You did what you had to do to survive inside Zodius. You were trying to save lives. To protect our country. You might scare some people, but you will never scare me.”
Lust climbed through every pore of his body. Her lips drew him, entranced him. A taste. One taste. He jerked his gaze to hers. “Will you never stop being a damn fool?”
“Will you?” she half panted, half whispered.
“Damn you, woman,” he hissed, his hand gliding over her slender waist to the swell of her breast that fit perfectly in his palm. “Is that what you want, Cassandra?” Her nipple stiffened beneath his touch, and he tweaked it. “You want me to touch you?”
She arched into his touch. “Yes
.”
“You want me to pleasure you?” he asked, roughly tugging on her nipple. She moaned, and that only made him hotter. Harder.
He abandoned her breast and palmed that plump, delectable ass, molding her hips to his. She rewarded his boldness with a sweet, sensuous moan that vibrated through his body and thickened his cock.
He dipped his head. Inhaled deeply. “You smell like sweet honey.” He leaned back, unable to stop his lips from brushing hers, the soft, subtle texture. “I could lick you from head to toe and do it all over again. Spread you wide and taste you when you come.”
She shivered. “Do it. Do it, Michael.”
He inhaled sharply, grappled again for that hard-won control—held her hands to keep her from touching him. Her touch would undo him. He willed himself to release her. To walk away and allow her the life she deserved—a life away from the dangerous nature threatening to consume him as surely as she consumed him right now.
“I love you, Michael,” Cassandra whispered.
“Don’t,” he raged, his chin snapping down as his gaze locked with hers, his hair escaping the tie at his neck and falling wildly around his face. “Don’t love me, Cassandra.” With every bit of will he had left, he pushed away from her, distancing himself.
Her head fell back against the door, and Lord help him, his gaze swept the stiff peaks of her nipples puckered beneath her shirt, and he took another step backwards.
“I don’t know how to get through to you,” she said softly, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know.” Her gaze returned to his, and she stared at him with so much pain, so much helplessness etching her face, he could barely breathe knowing he’d put it there. “I need you, Michael, and I know you need me.”
Then she pushed off the door, straightened, walked to the kitchen, and left him staring after her. She returned a second later with a knife in her hand. What the hell?