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An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Sorcerer ISBN 9781419922268 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Sorcerer Copyright © 2009 Aubrey Ross Edited by Mary Moran Cover art by Syneca Electronic book Publication June 2009 The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
SORCERER Aubrey Ross
Aubrey Ross
Prologue “I thought we weren’t going to do this again,” Fane whispered against Cassie’s parted lips. She quickly unfastened his jacket, dragging the sturdy material off his shoulders and down his arms. “I changed my mind.” Her mouth silenced his reply and her fingers went to work on the fastenings at the front of his pants. Reality narrowed and focused, accenting his motivation with brutal clarity. They stood in the foyer of her elegant penthouse, inside the security grid he had found no other way to penetrate. He had done everything in his power to work around Cassie, to insulate her from the danger, but all his efforts had been in vain. The only way to the access codes was through Cassie Myer. Their lips pressed and slid, tongues joined in a sensual tangle. He ran his fingers through her thick blonde hair as she eagerly rubbed against him. Desire pulsed through his willing body, but his mind remained anxious and conflicted. She’d stripped him to the waist and loosened his pants when he caught her wrist and tried again. “It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, but I don’t want—” “Why the sudden attack of conscience?” She twisted out of his grasp and searched his gaze. Uncertainty crept into her expression and she glanced away. “You had no trouble touching me last night or the night before or…” Fane debated what to tell her. His betrayal was inevitable. Still, he wanted to prepare her as much as possible. He brushed his knuckles across her cheek, drawing her gaze back to his. “I don’t regret these past few days, but I know you’re still hurting. I don’t want to take advantage of you.” The warmth in her smile sent guilt stabbing into his heart. She had suffered so much already. How could he knowingly contribute to her pain? “Who’s to say I’m not taking advantage of you?” Her palms stroked over his chest and came to rest on his shoulders. “I needed to know I was capable of feeling something other than grief, so I seduced you.” He couldn’t suppress a smile. The more time he spent with her, the more he admired her spirit. She would be so easy to care for, so easy to love. Duty shouldered through the tender feelings, leaving him tense yet alert. Regardless of his admiration, he was here for a reason. A valuable agent had already given his life in pursuit of these codes. Fane wouldn’t let Nicho’s death be in vain. Framing her face with his hands, he pressed his lips over hers. “I’ll willingly succumb to your wickedness, if it helps ease your pain.” He teased her mouth with light
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kisses and trailed his fingertips along her neck. Her skin was satin smooth and warm, beckoning him on to more intimate touches. She pushed to the balls of her feet and fit her mouth more securely to his. Her hands resumed their trek across his shoulders and down his back. Fane tightened his arms around her and nipped her chin. “I want to do it right this time.” She laughed. “I didn’t realize we’d been doing it wrong.” “You deserve better than shabby hotels and a frantic tumble in a stranger’s bathroom.” “You’re such a romantic.” She sifted his hair through her fingers as mischief sparkled in her eyes. “And such a liar. You knew anyone who walked past that bathroom would know what we were doing. We weren’t exactly quiet.” After pausing to return his playful nip, she added, “It turned you on. Admit it.” He hadn’t meant to fuck her at the party, just make the nature of his interest unmistakable. But she’d responded so sweetly, her need every bit as urgent as his. “I didn’t care who knew what we were doing. I don’t have a reputation worth protecting. But I don’t want you ridiculed or embarrassed by anything we do.” She tensed. “Why am I any different than anyone else? You have to stop thinking of me as a fragile widow or this will never work.” He kissed her again, hiding his expression as he savored her sweet lips. She wasn’t just a widow. She was Nicho’s widow and she had no idea her husband had been a spy. If Fane let himself analyze the situation any further, he’d lose sight of the goal. He picked her up, cradling her against his chest. “Where am I taking you?” he whispered. “Second door on the right.” Her lips trailed down the side of his neck as he shifted her against his chest. She was warm and soft, passionate and giving. Guilt tangled with his desire. Why couldn’t this be as wonderful as it felt? It had been so long since any woman stirred more than his most basic needs. This isn’t real. She doesn’t belong to you. She was Protarian elite and he commanded the Mutant Underground. They were enemies. Moving into the luxurious bedroom, he placed her in the middle of the neatly made bed. She wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him down beside her. Their mouths met and melded. He wanted her with every fiber of his being, which only made his desire more impossible. He was inside the security grid. There was no reason to take this any further. The hunger raging through his body made no difference to the people depending on him. Some things were more important than lust. He’d accepted that fact long ago.
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He moved on top of her, ensuring her silence with his mouth and controlling her movements with the weight of his body. She didn’t struggle—at first. Then she felt him push into her mind. Wiggling and twisting, she resisted the mental invasion. Her fists pounded his shoulders and his chest, the impact nothing compared to the pressure building between his legs. Each frantic arch of her body rubbed her mound against his cock. His body wasn’t nearly as ready to shift gears as his mind. He would not remember the heat of her snug passage or the breath-stealing pleasure they’d shared. This was business. She was a means to an end. She needed to calm down so he could calm down and focus on the task at hand. Relax, love. I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you. But he was hurting her already. He could sense her confusion and fear. Even so, he couldn’t let her emotions distract him. Her father was the most powerful man on Protaria. Fane would never have an opportunity like this again. Constructing the command with meticulous care, he sent out a seeker pulse. Show me Nicho. The compulsion worked like a search engine, collecting information connected by a common theme. If he scanned without specific parameters, his mind became vulnerable. She tensed beneath him, resisting the seeker pulse with every molecule of her stubborn nature. He intensified the command and she shuddered, yielding with a muffled cry. The information trickled through her shields. He scanned quickly, absorbing facts and images with ravenous interest. He wasn’t sure what was important and what was trivial, so he collected everything. It was better to absorb too much than to ignore something that might prove crucial later. As he’d suspected, she had no idea Nicho was a spy. That much was immediately clear. And she didn’t seem to know anything about the access codes. Fane wasn’t surprised. Nicho had stumbled across them while running down an unrelated lead. He hadn’t been sure they were significant and neither had Fane until Nicho was murdered in his sleep. It could have been a tragic coincidence, but Fane wouldn’t know for sure until he analyzed the access codes. Cassie’s thrashing gradually slowed. He pushed deeper and a soft whimper escaped her throat. He eased back and slipped his forearm beneath her neck. Her lovely face was pale and drawn, her lips slightly parted. I’m sorry, Cassie. I’m so sorry. He brushed the hair back from her brow and pressed a kiss to her temple. With infinite care and control, he launched a second series of compulsions. Sleep swept over her mind while his image disintegrated in her memory. If she remembered him at all, he’d seem like a hazy dream, a figment of her imagination. Just a moment longer to make certain she was out then he’d search the apartment for Nicho’s vault.
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System reboot. Nanite series 371 initialize. The message sounded in Cassie’s mind, remote yet distinct. A surreal jumble of impressions and sensations followed as consciousness undulated in and out of focus. The nanites triggered a stringent smell and her nostrils twitched. What had caused the overload? For that matter, where was she? Clarity dissolved and mist rolled across her mind, sweeping her into memory’s bittersweet haven. A familiar rush of sorrow accompanied Nicho’s image. Would she always miss him this badly? Another man, younger yet somehow more commanding, appeared within her mind. His clear green gaze caressed her face while a lazy smile curved his lips. Sensual lips, tender lips. She knew what it felt like to kiss those lips and be devoured by them. Everything about him was intimately familiar. So why couldn’t she remember his name? The scene swirled, blurred then refocused. She was locked in the stranger’s arms, kissing him with obvious passion. One of his hands held the back of her head and the other cupped her bottom. Surely she wouldn’t allow a stranger to touch her like that. Why couldn’t she… He knelt before her now as she braced herself against a bathroom counter. Her skirt was bunched around her waist and he held her panties aside, exposing her feminine slit and the heart of her desire. His thumb traced the delicate folds peeking out between her trembling thighs. Each teasing pass sent waves of heat rushing through her core. She felt restless and empty, more needful than she’d ever been before. “Please,” she whispered as her passion-bright gaze shifted toward the door. She was begging him to lick her pussy with people milling about in the next room. The muffled throb of music accented her pounding heartbeat and overlapping conversations reminded her that they weren’t really alone. He pressed his face against the apex of her thighs, his breath warming her sensitive flesh. His tongue parted her folds and his upper lip teased her clit. Sensations curled through her abdomen, gathering intensity as they climbed to her chest. She resisted the urge to cup her breasts and ease the aching fullness. Her nipples hardened, sensitized to the point of pain. “More.” Consuming need made her brazen. She wanted his kiss and his cock and she didn’t give a damn what anyone heard or thought. Wiggling out of her panties, she unabashedly spread her thighs. With desire sharpening his features, he draped one of her legs over his shoulder and pushed his tongue right into her cunt. She bit back a scream, mesmerized by the carnal savagery in his expression. He licked and sucked, filling his mouth with her cream as his gaze bore into hers. He paused suddenly and inhaled deeply. Raw lust stabbed through Cassie. Like an animal, he was scenting her, imprinting her smell on his memory. Amber light
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shimmered in his eyes, accenting the distinct angles of his handsome face. The light was significant, but she couldn’t think beyond the pleasure building inside her body. She was connected to the image yet distanced from the event, a voyeur on her own life. Her hand moved to the back of his head, urging him on. This wasn’t her bathroom and she seldom attended parties. Was this a dream? Before her mind could decipher the specifics, he took her clit between his lips and gently sucked. Her head fell back on her shoulders and lights danced before her eyes as pleasure shook her entire body. He stayed with her, prolonging the powerful spasms with more torrid kisses. He pushed to his feet and lifted her to the countertop. She wrapped her legs around his waist and buried her fingers in his hair. The deep, mahogany strands caressed her fingers as she brought his mouth to hers. She kissed him slowly, deeply, intrigued by the taste of her own pleasure. Tingling aftershocks peppered her abdomen, drawing her attention to the hollow ache still residing there. Despite the incendiary orgasm he’d just triggered, her body demanded more. “I think we should stop.” She barely made out his words between clinging kisses. “No,” she cried. “I need this. I need you.” “Then let’s go—” “No.” Her tone was calmer yet no less insistent. “Here. Like this. I need you to risk humiliation and damn the consequences. I want your cock inside me now.” His control snapped. With frantic determination, he unfastened his pants and freed his erection. She wanted to touch and taste him as thoroughly as he’d explored her, but there wasn’t time. He guided the impressive length to her opening then draped her other leg over his arm. Grasping her hips firmly with both hands, he drove his full length inside her. Tighter and tighter she stretched, accommodating his thick shaft. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out as he filled her emptiness. He paused for a moment with his shaft buried to the hilt. His heartbeat thudded against her breast, her core echoing the steady thump. She savored the completeness of their joining and the comfort of his strong embrace. How had she survived without these feelings? His hips pulled back slowly, prolonging the blissful slide. She pressed her shoulders against the massive mirror behind her as he drove inward again. Four slow thrusts were all he could stand then he slipped his hands beneath her bottom and fucked her in earnest. Bending his head, he claimed her mouth in a demanding kiss without interrupting the steady shuttle of his hips. She stroked his shoulders and squeezed his back, her lips open to his questing tongue.
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Tension built and his pace sped. The unmistakable slap of flesh against flesh filled the bathroom. His mouth muffled her cries until pleasure burst within the vision, pulsing through her body and saturating her mind. A yell as piercing as her orgasm shattered the image and released her into a colorless void. Echoes of sensation ricocheted through the darkness, drawing her back toward reality. Who was her phantom lover? Sex had never been like that, not even with Nicho and… Nicho was dead. She sat up on her bed trembling and disorientated. It was dark, but she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten home. Triggering her nanites with a practiced mental command, she waited for the cold rush of adrenaline to clear away the cobwebs. Her heartbeat sped and her muscles twitched, but she felt no less muddled. Had the party been real? Searching her mind, she found distorted faces and muffled voices, events that made no sense. Her last clear memory was… She wasn’t even sure what day it was. Something was definitely wrong. “Security, please respond.” After a moment of silence she repeated the command. Still, there was no reply. Feeling decidedly shaky, she lowered her feet to the floor and stood. The room tilted and her stomach heaved. She covered her mouth with her hand and stopped moving until the sensation passed. Pressure thrummed behind her eyes, but the nausea subsided. She crossed to the control console and found it equally unresponsive. Was there a power outage? “Lights, fifty percent.” Nothing happened. The power must be out. So why hadn’t the emergency generators kicked on? The security grid and emergency lighting had redundant backups. This didn’t make sense. She hurried down the hallway as fear welled inside her. She couldn’t sit here in the dark, wondering what was going on. Central security was stationed two floors down from her apartment. They’d know what had caused the outage and if she needed to sleep somewhere else tonight. Lightning arced overhead, illuminating the skylights. Thunder crashed an instant later and she crossed her arms over her chest. A storm. This was nothing more than a weather-related power outage. Expelling a shaky breath, she hurried along. She hadn’t always been this easy to rattle. Not that long ago she’d considered herself brave. Then she found her husband strangled to death in their bed and her entire world changed. A movement in her peripheral vision drew her attention into her office. She stumbled to a stop in the doorway, momentarily paralyzed by disbelief. It was him, the man from her dream. Even in the shadowed room, she recognized him instantly. “Security to the penthouse, code red,” she blurted, not knowing what else to do. “You don’t need security, Cassandra. I won’t hurt you.”
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Security didn’t respond. She hadn’t really expected them to. It had been instinctive to call for help. “How did you get in here?” She paused for a breath, trying not to sound so shrill. “Who are you? What do you want with me?” “You were supposed to be sleeping peacefully until long after I’d gone.” He took a slow step toward her and then another. If it hadn’t been for her nanites, it was likely she’d be unconscious rather than confused. “That didn’t answer my questions.” She licked her lips and backed into the hall. “Did you drug me?” Was he responsible for the power outage? That was even more likely than the storm. He didn’t seem violent, but she wasn’t taking any chances. There wasn’t anything in this house that couldn’t be replaced—at least not anymore. She pivoted to the side and made a dash for the front door. Warm fingers clasped her upper arm, bringing her up short barely inside the living room. He reeled her back into the hallway and pressed her against the wall. “I can’t let you sound the alarm until I’m gone. Please go back to your bedroom and behave.” “Behave?” she scoffed. “Who the fuck are you?” “My name isn’t important. You know I won’t hurt you.” And she did. Instinctively she knew he meant her no harm. So why couldn’t she remember his name? Shards of golden light erupted in his light green eyes. The beauty held her spellbound for an instant before her brain registered the significance. “You’re a mutant,” she whispered the accusation as dread unfurled within her. Mutants had killed Nicho! Mutants threatened everything she held dear. “Why are you…? What do you…?” “The less you know, the safer you’ll be.” He swept his knuckles along the crest of her cheekbone. She batted his hand aside. “Is that a threat?” Shoving him backward, she tried to dart past him. He slapped his hands against the wall on either side of her and pressed in close. “I won’t hurt you, but I will do whatever is necessary to protect my mission.” His warm breath wafted across her lips and tingles danced down her spine. She could remember the blissful fullness of his cock moving deep inside her. Why was the sensation still so strong? “What mission?” Sadness extinguished the mutant light burning in his eyes. He cupped her chin with one hand and lowered his head as if he meant to kiss her. Unsure if she wanted to resist or test the accuracy of her memories, she hesitated a moment too long. His lips pressed over hers and she went wild. Shoving and kicking, she thrashed within his arms. His presence pushed into her mind and she screamed, the sound muffled by his lips.
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Detecting danger, her nanites surged into action. He gasped and jerked his head to the side. “Stop fighting me. I don’t want to hurt you.” “Get out!” She slammed the heel of her hand against his shoulder. He took her face between his palms and stared into her eyes, his gaze glowing like molten gold. Go back to sleep. No! Get out of my apartment! Determination hardened his expression and he pressed his forehead against hers. You will go to sleep—now. Darkness closed in around her, sucking her into oblivion.
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Chapter One
Stilox, three years later Turning in a slow circle, Mal Ton Adoha took in the verdant beauty surrounding him. Flowering bushes and wide vegetable gardens were interspersed with sporadic clusters of leafy trees. A wide footpath wended its way across the park and disappeared into a fruit orchard in the distance. “How?” One word was all he could maneuver around the lump in his throat. Stilox, his homeworld, had been decimated by the ongoing war with Protaria. The atmosphere had been scorched, making climate domes necessary to sustain life. “Establishing an ecosystem inside a climate dome is incredibly complicated,” Roark Talbot explained. “The design team kept the details secret until the environment stabilized. They didn’t want to raise everyone’s hopes only to fail.” “This is amazing. I knew we Stilox are too damn stubborn to lie down and die, but I never dreamed I’d see something like this in my lifetime.” As the pleasant shock wore off, Mal Ton’s pragmatic nature resurfaced. “Are the new shields online? If the Protarians have any idea what we’ve accomplished, they’ll blast it all to hell. This must be protected at all costs.” Roark chuckled. “No one will argue with that, Commander. Everyone is as excited by the design team’s success as you are.” “And the shields?” he persisted. “Another triumph. They’ve created a continental matrix that encompasses all four climate domes. The grid randomly generates fictitious signals, making it impossible for anyone to decipher the readings. The Protarians will know we have a fourth dome, but they’ll have no idea what’s inside any of them.” “Until they slip a spy past our security.” Mal Ton never underestimated the enemy. He’d seen too many comrades pay for that mistake with their lives. “That’s always a possibility, but access to this dome is strictly monitored. DNA scanners are hard to fool.” “Given the right motivation, even the most dedicated rebel can turn traitor.” Roark arched his brow at Mal Ton’s pessimism. “Do you know something I don’t know?” “I’m sure I know lots of things you don’t know.” A smile quirked one corner of his mouth as he let the oxygen-rich air soothe him. “All I’m saying is we can’t allow ourselves to be lulled into a false sense of security. Despite the progress we’re making, the enemy is still breathing down our necks.” “No one on Stilox has forgotten the danger.” 12
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Accepting Roark’s insistence with a nod, Mal Ton turned back toward the entrance to the medical complex. The materials needed for the “new” structures had been scavenged from the twisted ruins beyond the climate domes or stolen from Protaria’s abandoned cities. Manufacturing on Stilox was nearly nonexistent. Mal Ton found the patchwork architecture oddly appealing. Regardless of the mismatched lines and jumbled textures, this was home. “How’s Andrea?” Mal Ton had only seen Roark’s mate for a few moments before she led Lorelle off to the research lab. The primary reason Mal Ton had brought Lorelle to Stilox was Andrea’s knowledge of human physiology. With only scanner readouts and transported samples Andrea had identified the cause of Lorelle’s symptoms, but Andrea had been unable to predict a final outcome. Hopefully direct access to her patient would allow her to be more specific. “Andrea is amazing.” A dreamy smile curved Roark’s lips. “I’ve never met anyone quite like her.” Mal Ton understood his friend’s expression all too well. He’d never expected to fall in love again and certainly not with an offworlder. His life was governed by duty and honor, strategy and routine. Yet his life had been anything but routine since he first encountered Lorelle. “The same can be said about Lorelle.” Mal Ton allowed himself to smile. “She has far exceeded my expectations. From what little I saw of humans on Earth, I never would have guessed she’d adapt so quickly.” After a thoughtful pause, Roark prompted, “So catch me up. How is Fane and what’s going on with Max?” The office Roark shared with the rest of the research team seemed small and airless after the unexpected luxury of the agricultural park. Mal Ton sighed. Where should he begin? There was so much to explain. “It’s official. Daniel Keller is Max.” Roark didn’t seem surprised. Max and his band of rebels had been causing trouble for the past few months. Though the Stilox militia had been curious about his identity and motivation, Fane, the leader of the Mutant Underground, had made it a personal quest to expose the rebel leader. “How did Fane finally unmask him?” Roark slipped in behind his desk as Mal Ton lowered his tall form into one of the chairs facing him. “One of the humans saw Max’s face. As soon as Fane scanned her memory, all of our suspicions were confirmed.” “If Daniel Keller is Max, then he already works for Chancellor Howyn,” Roark mused. “What did he gain by shooting down Lorelle’s ship?” “We can only speculate, but it stands to reason that Max intended to trade the humans to Howyn in exchange for his support.” “His support in what?”
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“Max and Fane are both incredibly powerful mutants. I think Max had his sights set on the Underground.” “No one in the Underground will follow the likes of Max. Those people worship Fane. They’ll scatter across the face of Protaria before they accept Max as their leader.” Mal Ton shrugged with practiced nonchalance. “There are many ways to motivate people. Fane uses loyalty and compassion. Max deals in manipulation and fear.” “That shouldn’t surprise you. Max has spent the majority of his adult life at Howyn’s side.” “True, but this gets even more interesting. While Lorelle and I were rescuing two of her shipmates, Max flashed into Cassandra Myer’s apartment and teleported out with her in his arms.” Roark’s mouth gaped for a second before he snapped it shut. “Max kidnapped Howyn’s daughter? Has he lost his mind?” “The answer to that remains to be seen.” Scooting to the edge of his chair, Roark shook his head, clearly shocked by the new developments. “What is Max trying to accomplish?” “His motivation might well be moot. Howyn offered Fane the last two humans in exchange for Cassandra’s safe return.” “Wait a minute. I thought Max had the humans.” “Howyn snatched the last two right out from under Max’s nose. Cassie’s abduction could be retaliation, or Max could have a more complicated reason for taking her. We just don’t know.” “Is Fane going to make the exchange?” “He has to find Cassie first.” “Is that a problem for Fane?” “Probably not.” The Underground didn’t follow Fane because of his good looks. He was one of the most powerful mutants on Protaria. “We should know more in the next day or two.” Roark nodded, obviously distracted by all the new information. Pushing back from his desk, he said, “Let’s go see if Andrea’s finished examining Lorelle.” Mal Ton followed him along a corridor then across an enclosed pedestrian bridge that led to the commercial complex. Housing pods surrounded the sprawling central unit and access tubes connected each to the other. It reminded Mal Ton of a mouse habitat his sister had constructed as a child. The structure focused on functionality rather than esthetics. When Mal Ton entered the exam room, he found the women standing in front of a readout screen. Andrea analyzed the information while Lorelle fiddled with her sleeves, looking tense and uncomfortable. “How are you holding up through all this turmoil?” Roark asked.
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“Are you talking to me or Lorelle?” Andrea didn’t take her eyes off the readouts. “I see to your care and protection. I was referring to our guest.” Lorelle manufactured a smile and clasped her hands behind her back. “I’m remarkably well, all things considered.” All things considered indeed. Both women had been taken from Earth against their will and thrust into the middle of a war they were only starting to understand. Mal Ton stepped up beside Lorelle and slipped his arm around her shoulders. “Do your scans reveal anything new?” “I don’t know yet. She hasn’t worked her way around to a diagnosis.” Lorelle sounded a bit annoyed, which wasn’t surprising. Patience had always been a challenge for his feisty mate. Andrea continued to study the readouts. Her lips pressed together and furrows marred her smooth brow. “Just spell it out,” Lorelle advised. “I’m a yank-the-bandage-off type of person.” “All right.” Andrea glanced at Roark then Mal Ton before she explained, “The concentration of nanites in your body has multiplied by a factor of ten since the last time you were scanned.” She turned from the screen and faced Lorelle. “I knew they were self-replicating, but I had no idea they’d reproduce this rapidly.” The numbers and diagrams meant nothing to Mal Ton, but he felt compelled to look at the readout screen. “I feel fine,” Lorelle insisted. “In fact I’ve never felt better in my life.” “The bonding fever has subsided?” Andrea was a doctor. She wasn’t asking about their sex life, she was questioning one of Lorelle’s symptoms. Still, Mal Ton barely suppressed a glower. “I’m still ridiculously attracted to this lug, but the…urgency is gone.” He gave Lorelle a reassuring squeeze. “Have you developed any new abilities?” Andrea asked. “My abilities mirror his, but can’t that be caused by our intimacy?” Andrea made a noncommittal sound and scratched the bridge of her nose. “Sex with a mutant can cause a temporary transfer of their abilities. The collectors are proof of that. However, I think the nanites are responsible for your symptoms. They’re making repairs and alterations in you as if you were Stilox.” Fane’s doctor had explained all this already. They’d been hoping for something new. “What will happen if you can’t shut them down?” Mal Ton asked. After archiving the readouts, Andrea turned off the screen. “They’ve integrated themselves into every system in her body. Shutting them down now would likely kill her.” “Is she always this blunt?” he asked Lorelle.
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“It’s one of the things I used to like about her.” Lorelle turned back to Andrea and asked, “What’s our plan of action?” “The nanites need to be reprogrammed, given an accurate template of human physiology.” Andrea sighed and buried her hands in her lab coat. “I can construct the template, but the actual interface is beyond my capabilities.” “Then I’m fucked?” Lorelle whispered. “I didn’t say that.” “You’re far too polite.” Lorelle raked her hair with her fingers, her hand trembling. Mal Ton pulled her into his arms and stroked the back of her hair. There was no way he was going to lose her now. There was simply no way! “If we do nothing, will the nanites kill me or just morph me into a Stilox?” Lorelle turned within the circle of his arms so she could look at Andrea. “I don’t know.” Three words you never want to hear from your doctor. “Then who would know?” Lorelle’s voice was shaking again. “A nanobiologist.” “Like Cassie Myer.” Mal Ton shot Roark a meaningful look. “Who is Cassie Myer?” Andrea asked. “Chancellor Howyn’s daughter,” Roark told her. “No Protarian is going to help us.” Andrea shook her head, but determination burned within her eyes. “We have nothing to offer them.” “She’ll help us or die,” Mal Ton snapped. He exhaled a ragged breath then turned Lorelle to face him. “I need to talk to Fane. Will you be all right for a few minutes?” “I’m not a child.” Her chin came up and her shoulders squared. “And this is hardly the first time I’ve faced the possibility of dying. Go. Talk to Fane. I’ll be here when you get back.”
***** Fane knelt on the padded mat in his private chamber in the Mutant Underground. His surroundings were sparse and austere, nearly void of material belongings. Naked to the waist and barefoot, he extended his hands toward the fire. Heat infused his palms and caressed his chest. He inhaled deeply. Wood smoke stung his nostrils while the spicy-sweet scent of incense soothed and relaxed him. Turning his focus inward, he tuned out each muffled noise and visual distraction. The Underground never slept. Someone was always checking in or heading out. So many paths intersected here, so many lives hung in the balance. Images formed within his mind, faces and situations. Frightened humans in need of rescue, sickly mutants with nowhere else to turn, refugees determined to find a better life. They all turned to him with expectation in their eyes. He accepted their importance 16
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and acknowledged the danger inherent in helping them. Then he pushed through the images and unleashed his consciousness. The metaphysical plane opened before him, rippling outward with waves of psychic energy. Cassie. Deep in his heart he’d known their paths would cross again. She’d affected him too deeply and leaving her had hurt too badly for any other outcome to make sense. Still, he hadn’t expected the circumstances facilitating their reunion. It shouldn’t have surprised him that the war would weave their lives back together. The eternal conflict curved and tangled through every aspect of his life. Chancellor Howyn dangled the human captives before him, taunting and challenging him. All Fane had to do was rescue Cassie and Howyn would… He inhaled slowly, pushing back his rambling thoughts. The reason he needed to find her was incidental. All that mattered was that he didn’t fail. To locate her in the present, he turned toward the past, following the heated trail of their desire. The path was familiar. Often over the past three years he’d sought solace in these memories, needing a comfort unattainable in reality. Her image arose, golden hair framing her delicate features, rosy lips parted in a smile. How he missed her! How he longed to touch her and hear her whisper his name. Regret panged within his heart. She’d never known his name, at least not his real name. Focus! He had to control his emotions or he would never be able to identify her signal. He paused, allowing energy to flow through him and swirl around him. Layer by layer his individuality was stripped away. No past, no future, just the elemental present shared by all things. His soul took on the rhythm of the universe, pulsing and expanding as he surrendered to the tingling rush. For endless moments he hung suspended in space and time. All he felt was the fundamental throb of energy. Then he opened his mind, gradually, carefully. Like the subtle buzz of a distant swarm, thoughts approached him. He braced for the impact while remaining accessible. Personality strands thrust into his mind, streaming through him like the gush of a storm-swollen river. Those closest to him arrived first, friends and their families. He sorted the signals, filtering the overwhelming torrent with the skill only attainable through decades of training and centuries of practice. He released his stranglehold on his emotions and waited for the metaphysical plane to respond. The current focused, curling in on itself until one concentrated jet pelted his being. Longing swelled within him, guiding him through the dizzying flow. An image formed within the energy stream, the scene achingly familiar. He stood with Cassie beside a simple hotel bed, their clothes scattered on the floor. They were beyond words, beyond caring about expectations or consequences. She pressed against him eagerly, her mouth open and responsive.
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He sank into the memory, immersing himself in the longing. His pulse sped and his body stirred. No one ever moved him as deeply as Cassie, and no one ever would. This was the last time they’d made love, the image that haunted his dreams and fueled his fantasies. His tongue stroked over hers, his hands lost in her soft hair. She parted her thighs and bent her knee, curving her calf around his hip. “I’d swear you’re a sorcerer,” she whispered against his kiss-dampened lips. “I’ve never felt like this before.” Possessive desire washed over him in one sustained wave. Without tightening his grip on her hair, he drew her nearer. “If I’m a sorcerer, does that mean you’ll do whatever I say?” She smiled into his eyes as she rubbed her nipples against his chest. “Ask me to do something and find out.” “I want your mouth on my cock.” Lust stabbed into his groin. His impatience to be inside her had prevented her from tasting him the night before. She’d offered, had even objected when he’d rushed on ahead. “You ask and I obey.” With mischief shining in her eyes, she sank to her knees. Her warm fingers curved around his shaft and she stroked him from root to tip, her gaze never leaving his face. Lulled by the sweet temptation, Fane nearly forgot the reason for his vision. This was not about reliving the past. He must locate her in the present. Her soft lips closed around the tip of his cock and Fane moaned. Anchored by the memory, he turned his focus outward, scanning, seeking the familiar pattern of her energy. Her mouth slid up and down his length while her hand cradled his balls. He absorbed the pleasure, empowering his gift with greater range. Her tongue swirled and her being opened, allowing him beyond her instinctive defenses. Oh my God! Shock and fear rippled back across the metaphysical plane. How are you doing this? Get out of my mind! Cassie, don’t fight me. I’m trying to help you. The link shuddered violently as she resisted the connection. He wasn’t sure how she’d dissolved his compulsions three years before, but he couldn’t allow her stubbornness now. Her life depended on his success. He pushed harder, dragging her deeper into the shared memory. If you’re trying to help me, why are you picturing me…like that? Carefully maintaining his link with her mind, he let the image slip back into the past. I had to use a shared experience in order to connect with your consciousness. Please, don’t fight me. This connection was not easy to establish. I know who you are, Fane! It took me almost a year, but I uncovered everything. We’ll talk about all that as soon as we get you away from Max. Do you have any idea where you are?
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She took a long time to reply. Fane was just about to prompt her when he heard, We’re somewhere on Stilox, an abandoned lab of some sort. Has he harmed you? Not yet. Her fear surged and Fane’s hands clenched into fists. Too many had lost their lives in this bloody war. He would not allow Cassie to be added to the list of casualties! I’ll be there just as soon as I can. Please hurry. Teleporting offworld wiped him out. I’m not sure how long it will take him to recover.
***** Cassie drew her legs up toward her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees. Her senses hummed with an uncomfortable combination of anxiety and anticipation. She sat huddled in one corner of a small room adjacent to the abandoned lab. The only furniture remaining was a ratty couch and a set of shelves affixed to the wall. Her captor had locked them inside the stale-smelling room then collapsed on the couch. She knew him as Daniel Keller, but Fane had called him Max. Max, leader of a group of bloodthirsty fanatics. Max, equally hated by the Protarian elite and the Mutant Underground. It was all so confusing. Daniel Keller had faithfully supported her father for years. How could Daniel and Max be one and the same? His name was irrelevant. She gave herself a mental shake. His motivation, however, was not. He’d said nothing when he abducted her other than warning her not to struggle. She’d ignored the warning, of course, and bruises from the ensuing tussle marred her arms and upper chest. She’d known Daniel Keller for years, long before his mutations began to manifest. He never spoke of his abilities, tried to downplay the changes. She’d had no idea he could teleport offworld, which was obviously the way he’d wanted it. All of her other questions would have to wait until he regained consciousness. Knowing help was on the way allowed her to exhale, if not relax. Keller was obviously unbalanced and—no, Max. Kidnapping her had defiantly been the actions of a desperate rebel, not her father’s trusted employee. She was dealing with Max. With the name issue settled in her mind, she reluctantly returned to the other mystery. Fane had resided in her imagination, a nameless lover drifting through her dreams. Then she learned his name and understood the implications. Theirs had been no chance encounter. He’d ruthlessly seduced her for… She wasn’t sure what he’d gained. Information? She might be Chancellor Howyn’s daughter, but her father never told her anything important. She hadn’t confided in her father or anyone else. That would have revealed how foolish she’d been, how trusting and naive. She told her father she suspected someone had hacked into her home computer during the power outage. He reset the security
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protocols and that was the end of her adventure. At least on the surface. Secretly she’d fixated on Fane, oscillating between hate and lust until his memory tainted every relationship she attempted to establish. This reunion was long overdue! How had Fane known she’d been abducted? Why was her father allowing his involvement, or did her father know Fane intended to intervene? Pushing to her feet, she crossed to the door and tried the latch for the second time. Was Fane still on Protaria? She glanced at Max and shivered. A lot could happen while Fane shuttled over to Stilox. She tapped her knuckles against the window centered in the door. Even if she managed to smash it, the opening was too small to crawl through. The lab beyond had been stripped of anything functional, so why had Max brought her here? “I don’t think you’ll fit,” Max’s voice sounded thin and tense despite his attempt at humor. “I’d come to the same conclusion.” She took a deep breath and turned around. He was more or less sitting now, back slumped, feet lowered to the floor. His face was pale, dark smudges shadowing his green eyes. “Why did you bring me here?” “Direct as always.” He adjusted his position, sitting a bit straighter than before. “I need your help, Cassie. Every time I teleport, I get weaker.” “So don’t teleport.” He scooted to the edge of the couch and a calculative gleam erupted in his gaze. Even with fatigue etched on his handsome features, he looked elegant and composed. “I know about your new project and I’m willing to be your first test subject. Nothing else I’ve tried has had any effect.” “The new series isn’t ready for human trials, and even if it were, I won’t cooperate with a criminal.” She folded her arms over her chest. This didn’t make sense. “Everything I need to help you is back on Protaria. What do you really want?” His sharp bust of laughter disturbed the dusty air. “You were always too smart for your own good. Nicho didn’t deserve you.” “Leave Nicho out of this.” Trepidation twisted through her stomach. She was well aware of Max’s infatuation with her. He’d done little to hide his interest over the years. Surely he hadn’t gone through all this trouble just to…play out his fantasies. “Nicho is right in the middle of this. How much do you really know about your late husband?” “He was murdered three years ago. Why bring him up now?” “How did Nicho die?” Her temper spiked despite her determination to remain calm. “What does this have to do with—” “Answer the question,” he snapped, color flowing back into his face. “He surprised a thief and paid for his bad timing with his life.”
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“That’s what your father wanted you to believe, but the truth is far more interesting.” She leaned against the door, unsure how to react. Was it better to play along or argue with him? The only time he’d been violent was when she’d fought against him. It was probably wisest not to provoke him. “Fine. Tell me the truth. What really happened?” “Nicho was recruited by the Mutant Underground two years before you were married.” It was hard not to roll her eyes when he was being so ridiculous. “Nicho wasn’t a mutant.” “No, but he had many friends who were. He despised the Protarian elite and was willing to do anything in his power to further the rebellion.” “If you say so.” Not provoking him was one thing, but she was not going to encourage his delusions. “It still doesn’t change the reality of his death.” He shot to his feet and stalked toward her. “You don’t yet comprehend the reality of his death. He slunk through back alleys and sabotaged your father at every turn while I remained loyal to Protaria.” She closed her eyes, struggling for composure. Here it came. The real reason for her abduction. Despite his desire for her, Keller had never so much as kissed her. Had his obsession finally driven him beyond rational thought? Did he feel more powerful as his alter ego, less inclined to play by the rules? Reinforcing her determination with a deep breath, she reluctantly met his gaze. “I don’t understand what all this has to do with being abducted.” His arm lashed out, fingers tangling in the front of her blouse. She yelped and caught his wrist, but he didn’t pull, just prevented her from moving as his eyes stared into hers. “I worked like a slave for your father, yet he never saw beyond my mutation. Nicho mocked you both at every turn. He created opportunities and siphoned off information for Fane and his mangy followers. Your father treated Nicho—” “You honestly believe Nicho worked for Fane?” The tension in her belly tightened into a painful knot. It couldn’t be true. Nicho loved her. “Haven’t you been listening?” He leaned in, his stale breath wafting across her face. “Nicho married you specifically so he could pass information to Fane.” “How could you possibly know this unless you’re part of the Underground too?” “I have no interest in working for Fane. I intend to replace him, but you’re jumping ahead.” He released her blouse and she exhaled, but the sigh was premature. His hand slid up and his fingers curved around throat. “Your father found out about Nicho and silenced him.” His fingers flexed, restricting her airflow. Pain shot up the sides of her neck. “That’s not possible,” she whispered, barely able to hear beyond the rushing of blood in her ears. Her nanites surged, soaring through her bloodstream and
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congregating in her index finger. A transfer tube had been implanted beneath her nail. All she had to do was jab it into his chest and one of her nanites would incapacitate him. But the effect was temporary and a second jab would stop his heart. “I found Nicho’s body. My father wouldn’t do that to me.” She tugged on his wrist and pleaded with her eyes as she angled her finger toward his chest. “You’re hurting me.” His hand released and slid lower, slipping beneath the silky fabric of her blouse. He rested his fingertips on the upper curve of her breast, touching without actually fondling her. Cassie watched lust ignite in his gaze and tasted bile in the back of her throat. If he’d brought her here to rape her, why this trip through yesteryear? “If I remember correctly,” he continued, “you left the opera during intermission because you had a headache. You weren’t supposed to arrive until after the body had been removed.” This was ridiculous. What did he gain by discrediting her dead husband? Nicho had been kind and tender. He’d never given her any reason to question his loyalty. “I don’t believe you.” She lunged to the side and darted past him, but there was nowhere to run. Grabbing the waistband of her skirt, he jerked her back. “What was the first thing you did once you pushed through the sorrow and ventured out?” He wrapped both arms around her, trapping her arms at her sides. Shit! She had to get her hand free. “Stop it.” She twisted and wiggled, but his hold was firm and she could feel his cock hardening against her back. A violent shudder shook her body and she went still in his embrace. She didn’t want his death on her conscience, but she would not be a victim again! “You went to a party at the Ralton Estate,” he whispered in her ear, his tone softly mocking. “And a mysterious man caught your eye.” Guilt swept up from the depths of her soul and Fane’s face appeared within her mind. Each detail preserved through repeated access, mysterious and captivating. How the hell did Max know about the affair? “You tried to ignore him and still your gaze gravitated toward him again and again.” His tone changed, became caressing. “It’s not your fault, Cassie. Fane has a mystique, a sort of mutant charisma. No one can resist him.” With abrupt violence, he shoved her forward, sending her crashing onto the couch. She landed on her knees then rolled to her seat, instinctively positioning her hand. “Prim and proper Doctor Myer spread her legs on a bathroom counter!” He paced in front of the couch, assailing her with hateful words. “You let a total stranger fuck you while half of Sanctum listened and laughed. I’ve never been so humiliated.” “You were at the party?” Her voice cracked and he paused to look at her. “Of course you wouldn’t remember. I’ve always been invisible to you.” His gaze narrowed on her face and pain threaded through the lust. “Was he really that good?”
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She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, comforted by the stinging pressure in her index finger. “Why am I here? What do you want from me?” He clasped his hands behind his back and erased all emotion from his features. “Nicho and Fane both fucked you to get to your father. Doesn’t that bother you?” She couldn’t let him upset her. That was obviously his intention. “Nicho is dead and Fane was a momentary distraction I’ve all but forgotten.” “Sure you have.” His gaze focused on her mouth for a moment before he recaptured his expressionless mask. “You haven’t had a serious relationship since Fane returned to the Underground. Why is that, Cassie? Why won’t you let anyone get close to you?” “I haven’t had a serious relationship since I found my husband murdered in our bed. My reticence has nothing to do with Fane.” “Has he contacted you yet?” Shock stole her breath and she quickly averted her gaze. His chuckle told her she hadn’t looked away fast enough. “Has who contacted me?” “He’s kept tabs on you. Did you know that? He’s aware of every move you make.” “That’s ridiculous.” She glared up at him, tired of his mind games. “I was a means to an end, nothing more.” “You better pray that’s not true.” He returned her glare, hatred burning off his other emotions. “I won’t stoop to fucking Fane’s whore, but I’ve developed quite a taste for pain. If he doesn’t arrive within the hour, your screams will echo all the way back to Protaria.”
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Chapter Two “We don’t have time for this!” Fane snapped. Sean Wylie traveled through the shadow dimension beyond tangible space with hardly a thought. Even dragging Fane along didn’t seem to faze him. Fane, however, felt nauseous and shaky after the metaphysical trek from Protaria to Stilox. “This has to be fast and lethal. We can’t risk an all-out assault.” “This is as close as we’ve ever come to capturing Max,” Roark objected. “I think we should make sure we don’t need another opportunity.” Sean shook his head. “Fane’s right. A small team has a better chance of getting her out alive.” Mal Ton crossed his arms over his chest, his expression troubled. “It’s a trap.” “A trap?” Sean shook his head again. “What sort of trap?” “His only hope of staking a claim on the Underground is if he takes out Fane.” “My death would accomplish nothing,” Fane said. “My people will never follow Max.” “Everyone knows that but Max. I say you stay here while Sean and I spring Howyn’s daughter.” “No.” “No?” Mal Ton arched one dark eyebrow in disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” “Cassie is my responsibility. I’d love to have you at my back, but this is my show.” Mal Ton shrugged his brawny shoulders, though his expression remained wary. “Have it your way, but don’t be surprised if this thing blows up in our faces.” “I can only take one of you through at a time,” Sean reminded. “I’ll pinpoint their location while you go back for Fane.” He silenced Fane’s objection with an upraised hand. “If he takes you first, you won’t wait for me. I know how your mind works.” Fane smiled. He’d known Mal Ton for most of his adult life. They had few secrets from each other. “All right.” Pausing long enough to arm themselves with a variety of weapons, the three men returned to Roark’s office for departure. Mutant powers were nothing new to the Stilox rebels, but Mal Ton preferred not to flaunt their abilities. “I’ll be just a minute,” Sean said casually. He firmly grasped Mal Ton’s wrist while Mal Ton grabbed his. Reaching for the wall beside them, Sean pushed his fingertips into
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the brick. His features tensed and energy pulsed out from his hand. He swept his arm down, expanding the opening from his shoulders to his knees. Specters were arguably the most valuable mutants. Only fifteen people had survived the particular mutation, all of them Stilox and all of them male. Sean was not the most powerful specter, but he was by far the most skilled. Mal Ton followed Sean into the metaphysical realm with obvious reluctance. If their hold on each other slipped for even a moment Mal Ton would be trapped in shadow dimension beyond physical space. Fane checked his weapons one last time as he waited for Sean’s return. The possibility of capturing Max held infinite appeal. Even so, Cassie was his primary concern. Cassie. Her name filled his mind with images and triggered a cascade of sensations. If his life had been his own, he would never have left her side. But he’d pledged his future to the people who depended on him for survival. Could he make her understand? If her attitude in his vision were any indication, he had a rocky road ahead of him. The wall bowed outward then Sean’s hand pushed through the bricks. “Ready?” He created an opening large enough for Fane to enter. Reasserting his purpose with a stiff nod, Fane locked wrists with Sean and followed him into the shadowy void. Light dimmed and sound became a muffled buzz. Like a living ghost, Sean passed through the fabric of space, traveling directly from one point to another. Reality blurred and Fane tightened his hold on Sean’s wrist. Physical sensation numbed, so Fane reached out with his mind. Almost there. Fane didn’t miss the amusement in Sean’s thought. You know I hate this. You hate anything that robs you of control. He didn’t argue. Sean knew him almost as well as Mal Ton. They emerged in an empty storeroom and Fane braced his hands against his knees, struggling to clear his head of the Spectral fog. Mal Ton crouched near the doorway and motioned them down with an anxious gesture. They have her locked in Roark’s old office. Max has a flair for irony. Sean dropped to his knees then crawled closer to Mal Ton. They? You didn’t think Max would face us alone, did you? Mal Ton looked at Fane as he added the question. How many and what are they carrying? Fane didn’t react to the provocation. Three Protarians and one mutant. My sensors don’t identify specific munitions. Sean reached into the pouch at his waist and retrieved a tiny spybot. The control band strapped around his hand allowed him to trigger functions with his fingers and thumb. He activated the ’bot and its long legs sprang free from its disk-shaped body. The legs spread wide as Sean rolled it under the door then bent with smooth agility and scurried up the wall. 25
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The storeroom was across the hall from the laboratory. Wide transparent panels framed the main access door. Sean angled his hand so Mal Ton and Fane could see the small display resting against the palm of his hand. As soon as we leave this room, they’ll see us. Fane nodded. They’re outfitted like Protarian militia. This shouldn’t be too difficult. Max is in the office with Howyn’s daughter, Mal Ton pointed out. How do we keep him from teleporting out with her as soon as we make our move? I’ll beat him to it. Sean grinned. Now that I know her exact location, I can blink in and out before he knows what hit him. Fane bit back his objection. Cassie was his responsibility, but Sean was better suited to the rescue. He couldn’t allow his pride to compromise her safety. Sean retrieved the spybot and moved away from the door. Mal Ton counted them down with distinct hand signals. Tension twisted through Fane, cramping his gut and speeding his pulse. He’d run headlong into danger more times than he could count, but Cassie had never been at risk before. With a violent yank, Mal Ton jerked open the door and flew into the hall. Sean disappeared from Fane’s peripheral vision as Fane rushed out of the storeroom in Mal Ton’s wake. The Protarians turned as one and fired in a shower of bright, sharp pulses. Anticipating their reaction, Mal Ton and Fane ducked and launched themselves through the observation window. The panel shattered, no match for the combined abuse of the pulse blasts and two strong shoulders. Fane rolled through the shards of glass and shot to his feet, blasting one guard with his pistol as he trapped another with a mental compulsion. The first guard collapsed against the wall while the second stared back at him in impotent fury. “Sleep,” Fane commanded, and the second soldier joined his comrade on the floor. Two additional Protarians came running down the corridor, drawn by the sound of the fight. Mal Ton motioned Fane toward the office as he turned to engage the newcomers. Half expecting the office to be empty, Fane pushed the door open and froze. Sean stood beside Cassie, and Max lay unconscious at their feet. “How did you incapacitate him?” Fane asked Sean. “I didn’t. She did.” Fane glanced over his shoulder to make sure Mal Ton had control of the lab then turned his full attention on Cassie. Her hair was a tangled mess, half down around her shoulders, half secured to the back of her head. She was barefoot, but her clothing was intact and scattered bruises appeared to be her only injury. “Are you all right?” “I’m fine.” Her large brown eyes stared back at him with hostile interest. “How did you get here so quickly?” “Max isn’t the only one who can teleport offworld. This is Sean Wylie.”
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She glanced at Sean, her expression clearly curious. “Should I be thanking you?” “Fane found you. I’m just the driver.” He offered her a playful wink and headed for the door. “I’ll go help Mal Ton secure our uninvited guests.” Her gaze turned thoughtful and she looked out into the lab. “That’s Mal Ton Adoha? My father would kill to get his hands on that man.” “A fact Mal Ton knows well.” Fane smiled and knelt beside Max. Even after scanning him, Fane was unable to determine the cause of his unconsciousness. “What did you do to him?” “I chopped him in the veratinian nerve cluster as hard as I could and he went down.” She motioned toward the side of Max’s neck. “He’s been pretty out of it since he regained consciousness. I got lucky.” If anyone could locate a nerve cluster it was Cassie. Still, it was hard to believe she hit Max hard enough to drop him. Fane had no reason to doubt her claim, but something about it rang false. He cupped her chin and turned her face so he could assess the damage to her cheek. “Did he hit you?” “He must have known your friend could teleport. He expected you far earlier than I did.” She stepped back, easing away from his touch. “I’d like to call my father now.” “You didn’t answer my question. How did you get the bruises?” Their gazes locked and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I know it’s wisest not to resist an armed kidnapper, but surrender is not in my nature.” “Then he didn’t—” “He didn’t rape me. He said he wouldn’t stoop to fucking your whore.” Heaving a sigh, he tucked his gun in the back of his pants. “I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry about using me three years ago, or you’re sorry Max used me as bait to draw you out of hiding?” Challenge snapped in each syllable. “For some reason he thought if he threatened me, you’d come running. Do you have any idea what brought him to that conclusion?” Her bitterness was understandable, expected even. Unfortunately, the situation was too complicated for a pithy answer. “I need to secure Max then we’ll talk.” “You’re bleeding.” She motioned toward the tear in his shirt and the long slash in the flesh beneath. He glanced at the wound and shook his head. “I didn’t even feel it until now.” “Adrenaline,” she suggested, her gaze moving over his face. “As soon as we arrange transportation for Max and his men, I’ll take you back to Stilox headquarters.” “Let me com my father. He’ll do the rest.” He made a noncommittal sound and returned his attention to his unconscious enemy.
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Cassie stayed out of the rebels’ way as they secured Max and his men. Sean found a blanket to wrap around her shoulders, but she wasn’t really cold, just rattled. Of the three rebels, Sean was the most likable. He smiled often and even flirted with her from time to time. Mal Ton was all business. He bound the guards and carried them to the waiting transport as if they were children, not heavily armored men. Everything her father had said about the Stilox warrior replayed within her mind. He was ruthless and fanatical about Stilox independence. So what had he gained by rescuing her? Despite Sean’s blond appeal and Mal Ton’s brooding handsomeness, her gaze drifted to Fane with predictable regularity. Did he possess some form of mutant magnetism like Max claimed? It wasn’t hard to imagine. She’d been uncharacteristically drawn to Fane from the first moment they met. The years had changed him, hardened and refined his features. His cheekbones slashed now and the brackets framing his mouth were etched into his cheeks. The wariness in his pale green eyes hadn’t been there before. He stood beside Mal Ton, speaking in hushed tones. She ran her thumb over the tip of the transfer tube barely protruding from beneath her fingernail. She’d launched the first round into Max. The second round would be lethal. She didn’t feel threatened, exactly, just anxious. Still, she’d been patient long enough. Drawing the blanket around her shoulders, she approached Mal Ton and Fane. “I’d like to contact my father now.” “Long-range communications have been moved to the new outpost,” Mal Ton told her. His features were expressionless, his tone calm. She had no idea if he was lying or not. “We need to blindfold you.” Fane sounded regretful yet a sharper emotion lit his expressive eyes. “For obvious reasons this is all a little awkward.” “My father already knows about the fourth dome.” Fane smiled and her stomach fluttered with unwanted awareness. She was unnerved by the sensation. There was no way she was still attracted to him. “Let us keep a few of our secrets,” Fane said. “At least let us try.” His silky tone did little to soothe her. He moved toward her and she stiffened, refusing to retreat yet growing more uncomfortable with each passing moment. Mal Ton circled behind her, his steps soundless despite his size. “There’s no reason to be frightened.” Fane placed his hands on her shoulders and she stepped back, right into Mal Ton’s arms. “Relax. We won’t hurt you.” “Then why are you…? What are you…?” Cassie kicked and twisted, all her efforts useless within the circle of Mal Ton’s strong embrace. Fane held a small canister beneath her noise and expelled a cloud of mist. Each of her frantic breaths drew the chemical deeper into her lungs. Her nanites
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released adrenaline in an attempt to counteract the sedation, but Fane released a second puff of mist. Warmth pervaded her body, muting her emotions and bleeding the strength from her muscles. Her legs gave out beneath her and darkness drove reality away.
***** “You can’t keep her here against her will. I won’t be party to that sort of manipulation.” Awareness flooded Cassie’s consciousness, filling her mind with images and impressions. She saw a young woman with golden hair and cautious hazel eyes. Andrea Raynier. She knew the human geneticist had spoken as surely as she knew her name, but Cassie had no idea how the knowledge had been imparted to her. Andrea stood beside a desk in a brightly lit office. Unlike the dilapidated lab, this room appeared freshly furnished and newly occupied. They must have reached the Stilox headquarters. Roark Talbot sat behind an orderly desk. Fane watched Andrea, waiting to see if she’d say more—and realization struck. Cassie was in Fane’s mind. She was seeing through his eyes. She knew what he knew, could access his memories! That’s how she’d identified the human. Could he sense her presence? She eased into the shadows, released her hold on the scene until their voices were barely whispers. It didn’t seem to make a difference. Her nanites had heightened her natural telepathic abilities, but nothing like this had ever happened before. At least nothing that she instigated. Even with nanite assistance, her skill was moderate at best. Carefully pushing forward again, she took stock of the situation. Fane sat in a chair facing Roark while Mal Ton lounged near the doorway. She could sense their excitement at finally having Max in custody, but the opportunities presented via her presence were far more intriguing. Fascinated by the phenomenon, she focused on what they were saying. “Were you harmed during your captivity?” Roark challenged. His bright teal eyes filled with heated memories as he looked at his mate. His mate? Yes, Andrea was his mate. But wasn’t she human? “That’s beside the point.” A pretty pink blush colored Andrea’s cheeks. “There’s no reason for Cassie to be…motivated. Let me explain the situation and I’m sure she’ll cooperate.” The inescapable implications filled Cassie with restless energy. She’d heard stories of Stilox sexual negotiations. Had Andrea been subjected to the sort of ruthless seduction Protarian females only dared to dream about? Had her body been stroked and stimulated, licked and lashed until she begged for mercy—or begged for more?
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Mal Ton chuckled, drawing Cassie’s attention to the doorway where he stood. “Your interaction with the Protarian elite is obviously limited. Cassie Myer has been indoctrinated from the cradle to hate all things Stilox.” It was a sweeping generalization. Even so, Cassie found it hard to contradict. Andrea’s chin came up and her shoulders squared. “We aren’t asking her to help a Stilox rebel. We need her to stabilize a human refugee.” Cassie paused over the concept. Would she be more apt to help a refugee than a rebel? No. People were people. This war had damaged indiscriminately. Did they really think she was so shallow? Then why did you have to stop and think about it? “It’s not just Lorelle,” Roark reminded. “Doctor Myer was directly involved in the development of the last two counteragents. She knows more about the lentavirus than anyone on Protaria.” “And as soon as Howyn realizes we have her, he’ll tear Stilox apart to get her back,” Mal Ton said. “We don’t have a lot of time.” That was certainly true. Her father was nothing if not possessive and completion of her current project meant even more to him than his daughter’s life. Luckily for her, the project couldn’t be completed without her input. “No one touches Cassie but me.” Fane’s tone allowed no argument and tingling heat vibrated through Cassie’s being. Was she ready for more of his consuming desire? She had been so susceptible to him the first time around. Did she dare risk a second exposure? “Don’t forget the human captives,” Roark persisted. “Howyn promised to release them as soon as we rescued his daughter. This is a treacherous balancing act.” “Howyn has no intention of releasing the hostages. He never did,” Mal Ton said. Dread’s icy fingers dragged Cassie toward reality. Her father had offered the humans in exchange for her safe return? The rebels had every right to be suspicious. Well, so did she! Even now they were plotting her seduction, planning the best way to “motivate” her. “Aren’t the hostages at greater risk if Howyn learns we have Cassie?” Andrea grumbled. “He won’t,” Mal Ton insisted. “Sean is on his way back to Protaria. After he turns Max over to Fane’s people, he’ll continue his search of the capitol. Sean knows Sanctum better than anyone. He lived on the streets for years.” “I suspect Cassie can help with the hostages too.” Fane drew their attention back to the crux of the issue. “I just need to convince her to cooperate.” Anticipation sizzled through Fane and arced into Cassie. He allowed his mind to wander, dragging her along with him. The memories were familiar. She’d indulged in the sensual echoes frequently over the years, yet there was an urgency in his mind that she’d never experienced before. He savored the wildness, let the savage energy take him for just a moment then suppressed the consuming hunger as if it had never been.
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Stunned and tingling, Cassie felt the link slipping beyond her grasp. “I want to talk to her before you start playing games.” Andrea looked at Fane as she added, “And you’re going to let me.” Fane laughed. “I am? Who designated you commander of this outpost?” Their voices were distant and distorted. Cassie concentrated, pouring what was left of her energy into the connection. It was no use. Her consciousness was sucked from the scene by a force far stronger than her will. Awareness dimmed as she neared her body. She lay on a padded treatment table. It was obviously Fane’s intention to take advantage of the situation. He would exploit their attraction and use carnal hunger against her, unless she turned the tables on him first. Was she brave enough? Could she be that bold? She clung to the information she’d gleaned during the vision, refusing to lose one trivial fact. One moment of terrifying blackness assailed her then she sprang up with a gasp. The room swam in and out of focus as she reached blindly for the rails. Her temples thumped out a painful echo of her heartbeat. She ignored the discomfort and fumbled with the trigger, lowering the bedrail on one side. She needed to be standing when they entered. The bed was too defenseless, too vulnerable. Her toes jerked away from the cold tiles and she looked at her feet. Had she always been barefoot? The past few days had become a surreal blur…or had it only been one day? The overhead lights activated as the door slid open. The blonde hustled into the room followed immediately by Fane. She only spared Andrea a glance, noting the accuracy of her vision, before her attention focused entirely on her adversary, her lover, her equal and opposite… She didn’t analyze the melodramatic thought. A shiver of anticipation danced down her spine as she allowed the fact to penetrate her mind then she moved on. “Where am I?” She kept her hands at her sides, her stance loose, prepared for either attack or escape. Incapacitation was no longer an option. Her nanites were programmed to kill with the second strike. “You’re still on Stilox,” Andrea said, cautiously approaching, “but you’re safe. No one will hurt you now.” “Are you sure about that?” Fane asked with a provocative smile. His crystal green eyes moved over Cassie with obvious interest. “I’m positive.” Andrea shot him an annoyed look. They remained on the far side of the bed, which kept them between Cassie and the door. “Who are you?” she felt obligated to ask. Without the vision, she wouldn’t have known. “I’m Andrea Raynier and I just want to talk to you.”
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Cassie finger-combed her hair off her brow as she debated her next move. “Why was I brought here? This seems extravagant if all you’re trying to do is protect the location of your new headquarters.” “We weren’t responsible for this opportunity,” Andrea came closer, her expression earnest and hopeful, “but we can’t squander it. Your skills are too valuable and we need your help too desperately.” She glanced at Fane, unable to resist the impulse yet unwilling to reveal how much his presence affected her. He’d used her, seduced her with single-minded focus and utter disregard. After imprinting his image on her brain, she returned her attention to the human. “Are you asking for my assistance or explaining your expectations?” “I’m not sure I see the difference.” Andrea slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat, obviously unnerved by the conversation. “Assistance is asked of a guest. Expectations are explained to a prisoner.” She stared into Andrea’s eyes, her tone firm without being aggressive. Andrea tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking less comfortable with each exchange. “If you’ll abide by a few basic rules, we’ll consider you our guest.” Foresight was a wonderful thing. She had never felt more secure in her position. “Will I be able to contact my father?” Andrea looked at Fane for support. He just smiled, and said, “Surely you didn’t think it would be that easy.” She turned back to Cassie with a sigh. “I suspect you’ll consider yourself a prisoner no matter what I say, so let’s move on to the actual project.” “Let’s not.” Cassie had to make her move now before Fane entered the negotiation. Once he asserted himself things would get complicated fast. “I’m not a fool. You mentioned my skills, so I have a good idea what your project or projects entail. I’m far more interested in the details of my incarceration.” “I wish you wouldn’t call it that.” “If you’re uncomfortable with incarceration, you shouldn’t take prisoners.” She rounded the bed and faced Andrea directly. “She didn’t take you prisoner,” Fane reminded, “I did. Now back off.” “I’ll deal with you in a moment.” Cassie turned back to Andrea before he could do more than glare. “We both know my only motivation is to return home as quickly as possible.” He chuckled, the sound so provocative Cassie could feel it against her skin. “How long will I be trapped here on Stilox?” “That’s entirely up to you.” Andrea kept glancing at Fane, but Cassie kept her gaze fixed on the human. “My release is contingent upon my success?” “Yes.” “Is there more than one project?”
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“There are three.” Three? Damn. This could take a lot longer than she expected. “Have you prioritized them, or should I?” “We have.” Fane grasped her upper arm and pulled her away from Andrea. She yelped and shoved against his chest with both hands, careful to keep her index finger raised. “You have no reason to touch me.” “I don’t need a reason.” He pushed his fingers into her hair and made a loose fist, securing her head without pulling her hair. She was more surprised by his restraint than his aggression. He leaned in close, angling her head until their mouths aligned. His lips hovered over hers. Threatening? Promising? She couldn’t decide which he was attempting to convey. “What are you up to?” “I’m cooperating. Isn’t that why you’re here, to ensure my cooperation?” She dared to look into his eyes as she asked the question and her heart clumsily dropped a beat. What was wrong with her? She was supposed to go on the offensive. “You can’t escape. Even if you get out of this complex, the atmosphere is toxic. Can you pilot a shuttle? Why are you giving in without a fight?” She could pilot a shuttle if it came to that, but it wouldn’t. All she needed was a companel. A distress signal attached to her personal code would immediately notify her father of her exact location. She took a deep breath and reminded herself what she was trying to accomplish. Keep him off balance. Beat him to the finish line. If they were going to become reacquainted, she would control the reunion. “Are you disappointed?” She dropped her voice to barely a whisper and leaned in to the embrace. “Were you looking forward to the fight?” “Resistance is in your nature, unless you gain more by giving in.” His warm breath teased her lips and still he made no move to close the miniscule space between them. “You’re plotting something.” “Either kiss me or let go. This is boring.” “We both know which you’d prefer.” It was a stalemate, an emotional standoff. She wanted him with a slow-burning ache, yet she resented him even more. Something obviously held him back, though she couldn’t imagine what it was. He certainly hadn’t hesitated three years ago. Dare she dream he didn’t want to resort to manipulation? The conversation she’d just overheard extinguished her fledgling hope. He had every intention of seducing her. He was simply waiting for the most opportune moment before he struck. A thought occurred so suddenly she fought back a triumphant smile. The custom of short-term sexual alliances might be outdated, but it was still valid and it suited the situation to perfection. He would be obligated to protect her from any danger, including his own men. And all she had to do was accept him into her bed. Their attraction was combustible. Trying to resist her desire for him would only make his position more powerful. So why not use his lust to her advantage? She’d tease and tempt, surrender to
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a point then pull away. Make him so off balance and frustrated that he’d insist she return to her father. She cleared her throat, trying to sound more composed. “On what do your people vow?” Suspicion narrowed his eyes while the corners of his mouth curved upward. “Why do you ask?” “It’s a simple question.” They remained in the half embrace, staring into each other’s eyes. “Most vow on their lives or their honor.” “Which means more to you, your life or your honor?” “My honor by far.” She accepted the information with a subtle nod. “Vow on your honor that you will protect me while I’m here on Stilox.” For a long moment he returned her stare, his expression inscrutable. Then he covered his heart with his fist, and said, “I vow on my honor that I will protect you with my life during your stay on Stilox. Nothing will harm you while you are in my keeping. You have my solemn vow.” That was way too easy. Why had he offered his protection without conditions? Her heart beat furiously for a moment, protesting the ease with which she was meeting her goal. The whole situation suddenly felt like a trap about to snap shut around her foolish neck. Time froze as she scrambled for options. He knew. Somehow he knew exactly what she was doing. His lips parted and he framed her face between his hands, challenge making his eyes shimmer. “Say it,” he urged in a breathless whisper. “I don’t know what to…” His hand returned to her hair, steadily drawing her head back and tilting her face up. “Offer me your vow in return.” “I vow to… What do you want in exchange for your protection?” “You proposed the alliance, Cassandra. Surely you know.” His voice caressed each syllable of her name, sending another set of tingles down her spine. If she cowered now, he won. This had to be her game or they had to be equal participants at the very least. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin as much as his hold on her hair allowed. “I offer companionship and comfort. I vow to accept you willingly into my bed for the duration of our alliance.” “Actually, you’ll need to come willingly to my bed, but that’s just logistics. The bargain is acceptable to me.” She braced for the assault on her senses, the first of many she was sure. His mouth slid against hers, guiding, urging her to open for the bold thrust of his tongue. She
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curled her tongue around his and arched into the heat of his strong body. He needed to believe her surrender was real. His arm encircled her hips, pulling her tight against his body while the kiss went on and on. “Should I come back…” Andrea sounded more amused than embarrassed. He eased back with obvious reluctance, his expression savagely possessive. “Do you understand what just happened here?” There was no way to ignore the sensual promise in his tone. “We’re more or less…married.” “You belong to me, no excuses, no pretense. You’re mine.” “This is temporary.” His smile was down right wolfish. “If you say so.” She wiggled as far out of his embrace as he allowed her to go. One hand settled on her hip and the other moved toward her face. “You promised to protect me while I’m on Stilox.” “I protect what’s mine.” He touched her cheek then traced her lips, his gaze trailing in the wake of his fingertips. “Andrea, would you please show my wife to our apartment and see that she has everything she needs.”
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Chapter Three “She proposed a social alliance? How the fuck did she even know about them? What is she thirty, thirty-five at the most? I haven’t heard of a social alliance in decades.” Mal Ton leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, you were supposed to make her your sex slave, not get married.” Fane glanced around the dimly lit pub, relieved to find they were the only customers. “Control is your game, not mine. I’ve always preferred seduction.” “I can be very seductive,” Mal Ton objected. “Not with Cassie, you can’t. You’re officially out of the picture.” “I’m officially off the market.” “And this star system breathes a collective sigh of relief.” Mal Ton gasped in feigned outrage. “I was not that bad.” Fane laughed. “Like hell you weren’t. Lorelle deserves some sort of medal for clipping your wings.” The bartender handed Fane a mug of murky ale and Fane gave the wiry man a little salute. “One of yours?” “One of my what?” “Don’t play stupid with me, Fane.” Mal Ton reached across the table and grasped his forearm. “Our causes might momentarily align, but I haven’t forgotten that you are not a Stilox freedom fighter.” He pulled his arm out of Mal Ton’s light hold. “I’m no danger to you or yours. As you said, our causes align—for the time being.” “And if your hunger for Cassie can’t be sated by the end of this temporary alliance? Don’t bother denying it. I’ve seen the way you look at her.” Mal Ton paused, his expression turned thoughtful. “Is there some sort of history there?” “It’s none of your business.” “I’m not sure I agree, but I’m not in the mood to fight my way through your shields.” “As if you could.” “I think the score is four to three in my favor.” “You’re an asshole.” “Undeniable.” Fane took a long swig of ale. He was killing time, waiting for Cassie to settle in to their apartment before he…their apartment? Why did that sound so inviting? This wasn’t
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his outpost, wasn’t even his world, and Cassie was his enemy’s daughter. Regardless of how appealing he found her personally, he couldn’t let himself forget the fundamental differences keeping them apart. “I won’t let Cassie become a complication for your cause or mine.” He sounded far more confident than he felt. “I just need some time with her to sort a few things out. I’ll start with how she metabolized a double dose of sedamintine in less than an hour. That was certainly unexpected.” “You didn’t use the antidote?” Mal Ton scooted to the edge of his chair, confusion drawing furrows on his brow. “I walked into the infirmary and she was standing beside the bed.” “She might be resistant to the chemical. It did take two puffs to put her out.” “That’s not the only anomaly. There’s something…different about my wife.” The title made Mal Ton smile. “I never thought I’d hear those words coming out of your mouth. Is there any chance she’s a mutant?” “I don’t think so. We would have sensed it by now.” Fane shifted his weight restlessly. “Something unusual happened when I activated the vision back on Protaria. It created an open connection between me and Cassie. I can’t quite control the link and I can’t terminate the signal, so I’ve been trying to minimize telepathic contact.” “Is the link still open?” “It’s still there, but as soon as she regained consciousness she erected a shield that rivals either of ours.” He looked at Mal Ton to make sure he understood the enormity of the implications. “Does she have access to your mind?” “I don’t think so. If she’s tried to communicate with me, I haven’t been aware of it.” Suspicion arched Mal Ton’s brow before he asked, “What if she didn’t want you to be aware of her presence in your mind?” Her presence had been in his mind continually since he used the vision to locate her. Was it possible she’d been poking around without his knowledge? It seemed unlikely she possessed the skills needed for such an intricate maneuver. Scanning was complicated enough, but extracting information without the person’s knowledge was nearly impossible. “I don’t see how. I had no idea Cassie was telepathic, much less highly skilled. It does make me wonder about her father though.” “None of our intel indicates Howyn has any paranormal abilities.” “I know, but none of our intel revealed Cassie’s abilities either.” Mal Ton’s gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “Now you’re making me paranoid.” “That wasn’t my intention. I’m just rambling.” “Wedding night jitters?”
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“Something like that.” Fane pushed back from the table. “I’ll see you in the morning.” “Have fun.”
***** After a quick shower, Cassie donned the utility clothes Andrea left for her. The simple garments fit well enough and it felt wonderful to be clean again. Unfortunately, the human hadn’t been able to locate suitable undergarments or shoes, so Cassie still felt a bit exposed. She moved about the apartment in her stocking-clad feet. She noted a tiny closet, surprisingly comfortable bed, built-in dresser with retractable mirror and corner workstation. There was a beverage station, but no way to replicate food. Apparently the Stilox rebels took their meals in some central location. Most of the compartments were locked and the computer terminal had been deactivated. Andrea wasn’t sure if Fane wanted her to have the door code or not, so for the time being, Cassie was still a prisoner. Her thumb absently stroked the subtle protrusion of her transfer tube. The pressure had lessened as her anxiety mellowed. The automatic precaution prevented accidental injection. Still, it was now a lethal weapon and would remain so until she could return to her lab and reset the nanites. There wasn’t much to distract her thoughts from her captor-turned-temporaryhusband. This was her opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine. She’d show him what it felt like to be used, to have his body turned against him. She’d touch and tease then reject him without thought or feeling. The only real obstacle was her own lust and his ability to see into her mind. She would have to guard her thoughts as never before. He must believe she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her. Then, at the last moment, she’d turn him away and leave him aching for what he would never have again! As if he’d heard her bitter thoughts, the door slid open and Fane strode into the room. Space was swallowed up by the power of his presence. He was not physically massive like Mal Ton. He was tall, his shoulders broad, but his body was lean and graceful. “Did you miss me?” he asked with a playful smile. He raised his hand toward her face. She stepped back, taking herself out of reach. “I mean to honor my vow, but there are some things I need to understand before we…consummate our agreement.” Let the games begin! With an audible sigh, he lowered his hand, and said, “I’m listening.”
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She didn’t want to consider Max’s wild accusations, but the possibilities kept nagging in the back of her mind. “Did you recruit Nicho before or after he married me?” He said nothing for a long time. A muscle worked above his jaw and a spark of gold flashed within his eye then vanished before she could determine whether or not it had been there at all. Shit! She’d expected a calm denial, not evidence of a guilty conscience. “Nicho was a loyal citizen of Protaria,” his tone was gruff and dismissive. “Why would you doubt his allegiance now?” For the first time since the disturbing words left Max’s mouth, she wondered if they might be true. Crossing her arms over her chest, she used his discomfort to make her bold. “Cut the bullshit, Fane. I know he was your spy.” “Really.” His lips twisted in a wry little smile. “How could you possibly know that, even if it were true? And I’m not saying it was.” Doubt swept through her in a numbing wave. Had Nicho worked for Fane? It was too horrible to consider, so she stubbornly held on to the illusion. “Why else would you…? What did you gain by…?” He stalked toward her, crossing the room with three long strides. She managed to hold her ground, but her thoughts scattered. “Not tonight.” He let the statement hang in the air between them heavy with insistency and promise. “Tomorrow we’ll review all the reasons you have to hate me. We’ll negotiate the specifics of your release, but tonight is our wedding night.” “This isn’t a real marriage.” He splayed his fingers against her hairline, his palm lightly skimming her cheek. “It’s real to me.” She started to object. He moved with lightning speed. His hands grasped her hips, pushing her back until her bottom pressed against the wall. He took the hem of her top with both hands and worked the garment up and over her head. “Fane.” Her muttered protest went unheeded as he scrunched the material around her elbows and across her back, greatly reducing her range of motion. Her hands were trapped at her sides, rendering her panic weapon useless. “Look into my eyes and tell me you don’t want this.” Her nipples had already beaded in anticipation of his touch, but her mind remained aloof. She poured energy into her mental shields, determined to keep him out. This was meaningless lust. She could not let him erode her defenses. Carefully concealing her resentment, she licked her lips and looked into his eyes. “I instigated the alliance, remember?” “I remember.” His thumb swept back and forth across her lips. He lowered his head and she allowed the kiss, using his eagerness to fuel her determination. I remember every kiss, every caress. I’ve never stopped thinking about you. Desire flowed into her mind along
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with his thoughts, dizzying, pulsing hunger that curled through her and lodged between her thighs. Holy shit! How was she supposed to resist this? She dragged her mouth from his with a moan. “How are you doing that?” “I’ve sent my thoughts to you before.” His lips moved along her jaw and onto her neck as he spoke. “You’re sending a whole hell of a lot more than your thoughts.” His hand covered her breast and his mouth opened against the side of her neck, sucking firmly, sending prickly sensations deep into her chest. “Relax. Don’t analyze the feelings, just accept that you’re safe in my arms.” He’d rescued her from Max. Even so, she’d never been safe with him. He’d always had an ulterior motive, always wanted more than the pleasure they shared. “Stop thinking and be with me.” His hand remained on her breast, but he straightened, looking deep into her eyes. “I’ve learned not to question why things happen. I assess a situation and make the best decision possible given the circumstances. You’re in my life again. That’s all that matters.” He didn’t allow her to contradict the concept. His mouth settled over hers and his hands insinuated themselves beneath her bound arms. She could feel the hard wall of his chest and the flat plane of his belly. He knew just how to touch her. He’d always known. His lips were gentle now, almost mocking in their patience. He slid his mouth against hers, touching her lips with the tip of his tongue without venturing inside. She felt his longing, his need for her surrender and satisfaction surged. He craved the one thing she would never give him. Surrender required trust and she would never trust him again. She touched the tip of her tongue to his as she checked her shields. Despite the sensations he was slipping into her mind, she was relatively certain he didn’t have access to her thoughts or emotions. She arched, rubbing her breasts against his chest. Let him think she was melting beneath the heat of his lust. He came alive with sudden urgency, sucking her tongue into his mouth and grasping her bottom with both hands. Lifting her slightly, he aligned their lower bodies, pressing his cock into the softness at the apex of her thighs. She responded with her kiss, her tongue bold in his mouth. Without releasing her mouth, he worked the fastenings at the front of her pants. The waistband gave and he pulled her away from the wall, allowing the loose garment to pool around her ankles. How far should she let this go? How much longer could she conceal her true intentions? She started to step out and kick them aside, but he shook his head. “Not yet.” His voice was unsteady and he stepped back, his gaze scorching a path from her head to her feet.
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Her arms were tangled in the top and the pants bunched about her ankles. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he was imagining. Why did he want her bound and helpless? A heated shiver raced down her spine. The thought was not nearly as distasteful as it should have been. Search my heart. Search my mind. You have nothing to fear from me. He wouldn’t hurt her physically. That wasn’t his style. He’d use her body, enslave her with passion then casually walk away. After pulling his tunic off over his head, he draped it over the back of a chair. His chest was beyond lean, his flesh sculpted with brutal definition. He looked savage, far more dangerous than he had three years before. “My strength has returned, but my body hasn’t fully recovered. Another week or two and I’ll be good as new.” He tugged off his boots and shed the rest of his clothes with indifferent efficiency. His hips had always been narrow and the changes in his body weren’t as apparent in his legs. An intricate tattoo still undulated from his ankle to his hip on the right side of his body. It was a magical creature of some sort. She couldn’t remember what it was called. The long, slender body wrapped twice around his leg, the head nestling just below his hipbone. It had two sets of wings. One spread across his thigh, the other nearly circled his calf. She’d spent endless hours tracing the design with her fingers and her tongue. She was glad to see he hadn’t had it removed. It had always fascinated her. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” Dragging her gaze away from the elaborate tattoo, she glanced at his cock. The impressive column of flesh was still every bit as appealing. “Even with the changes, you’re the sexist man I’ve ever known.” Why had she admitted it? He didn’t need any more tools in his arsenal. “I’m not offended.” He bent to her breasts, anchoring her against him with an arm about her waist. Her shoulders rested against the wall and his pelvis pressed into her belly. “I’m ravenous.” She clutched the material of her top as his lips drew firmly on her nipples. It felt so damn good, she was tempted to abandon her plan and sate her hunger. It was just sex. It didn’t mean anything. The past came barreling through the temptation, unwilling to be silenced so easily. He nipped her breast and raised his passion-bright gaze to hers. Feel me. Know me. Apparently he could sense her distraction, if not her specific thoughts. Lust exploded through her mind, jarring her body. She cried out, shuddering violently. Her body pulsed in great needful spasms, demanding and consuming. She pressed her thighs together and whimpered. It was taking all her concentration just to subdue her own desire. There was no way she could withstand experiencing his need as well. With a ragged sigh, he eased back, stabilizing the sensations, muting the intensity. “We will talk, but not tonight.” The heat flared for an instant, singeing her senses before it mellowed to smoldering heat. “We’ve been apart too long.”
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He kissed his way down her body as he sank to his knees. She should stop him. It wasn’t fair to let him… He’d never been concerned about what was fair! She pressed her hands against the wall and savored the coolness against her palms. Let him lick her pussy until she screamed with pleasure. It was no more than he deserved. His hands cupped her ass, drawing her forward as he pressed his face into the juncture of her thighs. She waited for the skillful swirl of his tongue, knew how quickly he could obliterate her inhibitions with the stroke of that clever tongue. He didn’t move. Inhaling deeply, he held her scent inside him for endless moments before releasing it in a slow, humid stream. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, restless and anxious. Why was he soothed by her smell? His breath played through her curls, awakening tingles and focusing her attention on her body’s response to his nearness. Other than his hands on her ass, his breath was the only part of him that was touching her. So why did she feel weightless and hot? With slow deliberation, his tongue pushed through her feminine curls and unerringly found her clit. She jerked, but he slid right past the sensitive bud and parted her folds. “Fane,” she whispered his name in helpless supplication. Not yet. He was far too fond of that phrase. His fingers joined his mouth in eroding her sanity. Pushing between her thighs from behind, he traced a path from the center of her body through the valley between her quivering cheeks. The pad of one finger paused to circle her anus and she jerked away. She was far from a novice when it came to pleasures of the flesh, but that was one thing she’d never done. Trust me, Cassandra. I will never force anything on you. She was counting on it, counting on his basic nobility to save her in the end. The tension obediently released. Whenever he said her name, her full name, in that whispersoft tone, she melted and went all tingly inside. He continued his teasing trail, sliding smoothly in her gathering cream. His fingers circled her core, accenting the hollow ache as he coated his skin with her essence. He drew her attention to her other opening, triggering sensations and longings she didn’t realize she possessed. She gently rocked her hips, desperately trying not to be distracted. He squeezed her ass and caressed her hips, stroked her thighs and massaged her knees. At least he hadn’t taken the anal play any further than a few disturbing touches. She rested her head against the wall and accepted the unorthodox position. Everything about this was unusual. Why should the mechanics be any different? His teeth caught the inside of her thigh, exerting enough pressure to make her gasp. “Mark my words. One day I will discover what it takes to focus your mind entirely on us.” Sweeping his hand up the back of her leg, he bent her knee and angled her calf across his shoulder. Uncertainty rushed through her and she tensed. The position was
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off balance and open—vulnerable. He steadied her, one hand on her hip the other beneath her thigh. “I’ve got you,” he assured. “Can’t we move to the bed? Not yet.” She supplied his response, easily guessing what he was about to say. He covered her slit with his mouth. His lips moved against her and his tongue pushed into her. She clenched her fists, wishing she could touch him, wanting to bury her fingers in his hair. He pushed her leg higher and angled his head, pulling her pussy right over his face. There was nothing sweet or tender in his kiss. This was savage and carnal and her body responded in kind. She arched into his mouth, grinding her flesh onto his thrusting tongue. Her inner muscles tightened. His upper lip rubbed against her clit, creating a downward counterpoint to each inward jab. She shifted, increasing the pressure on her clit, and her orgasm burst. The hand on her thigh slid higher, slipping beneath his lips for a moment. His fingers felt cool and intrusive after the torrid pleasure of his mouth. He glanced up, her cream still gleaming on his lips and chin. Without a word he pushed a finger into her smoldering passage and watched her response. Her passage convulsed with little aftershocks and he smiled. He waited until she calmed then slowly withdrew and resumed his teasing trek from her core to her anus. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and tried not to tense. She should have realized he wasn’t finished. Fane never gave up on anything once it caught his attention. Excitement rippled through her as she thought of all the possible ways she could apply that particular concept. His finger pushed against her anus and her gaze flew to his. “Pay attention,” he chastised. “I was paying attention.” “Then why did my finger catch you by surprise?” She expected him to move his hand now that he’d made his point, but he licked her clit and continued the invasion. It felt odd, not painful, but definitely intrusive. He rotated his wrist and went deeper. All the while his tongue stroked over and around her clit. Cassie refused to think about what he was doing or how violently he might react to her rejection. She concentrated on the sensations, accepted the newness and the stark sexuality. He moved faster, pushing the pleasure higher then drawing it down through her body in a cascade of tingles. He closed his lips around her clit and carefully sucked as he pulled his finger all the way out. She came again with a startled cry, shuddering violently as the spasms gripped her. “Oh God, how did you do that?”
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With a throaty chuckle he lifted her clear of her crumpled pants and untangled her top from around her wrists. “If I weren’t so desperate, I’d give you a more lengthy demonstration.” He swept her into his arms and carried her to his bed. This was it. Somehow she had to find the strength to push him away. He is king of the mutants! He used you, drugged you, betrayed you. This shouldn’t even be a struggle. He placed her in the middle of the bed and she scrambled off the end, dragging the bedding with her to cover her nudity. “I can’t do this. I can’t close my eyes and pretend none of it happened. You used me! I didn’t even know your name while you looked into my eyes and pretended to care for me.” “I wasn’t pretending and you know it.” “All I know is you pursued me and seduced me and I’ll never be that stupid again!” Fury erupted in his gaze for just a moment before resignation extinguished the flame. “So this is payback?” He sounded far more frustrated than he looked. “Did you honestly think a couple of orgasms would make me forget what you did to me?” He stared at her for a long moment, his expression turbulent. “You’re in violation of our alliance. Shall we begin negotiations instead?”
***** “Are you sure she’s ready for a field test?” Chancellor Martin Howyn stared at his colleague, searching for the slightest tic in his expression or inappropriate tension in his posture. General Padric Bryson had been with him from the beginning. Howyn liked to think the general was the one person he could trust implicitly, but Howyn had been disappointed too many times before. “I’d be more comfortable if your daughter were here to oversee the field test. There are so many things that could go wrong. But our buyer is restless. We don’t dare delay the project any longer.” Howyn stiffened, turning from Bryson to hide his expression. He’d carefully insulated Cassie from many of the harsher realities of life. Or at least he’d tried. Her expertise was invaluable, her skill essential. Still, she lacked the stomach for true brutality. That’s why he had Bryson. “I have no doubt Cassie will be located, likely some time today.” Bryson accepted the information with a stiff nod. “Are you suggesting we postpone the field test until after her return?” “No. I agree with you. We’re running out of time.” The window tint decreased as he approached, presenting him with a spectacular view of the Sanctum skyline. His empire spread before him, jutting office buildings, elegant residential complexes and posh shopping emporiums. If Project Chrysalis performed as well as expected, the entire star system would fall under his control.
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“A rapid rescue will minimize Cassie’s trauma, but I suspect she’ll need time to recuperate. We have no choice but to push on without her.” He sounded callous even to his own ears, but there was no way he could have anticipated the abduction and he was doing everything in his power to get her back. The mutants were far better suited to this mission than conventional forces, a fact that was at the heart of his new project. “This incident proves my suspicion that Keller was Max,” Bryson said casually. “Your chief of security had no reason to kidnap Cassie while there are several ways a rogue mutant might use her abduction as leverage.” Howyn turned around, brows arched as he faced the general. “Keller was Max? Do you know something I don’t?” “Max was trying to overthrow Fane. We’ve known that for weeks. You gave Fane the perfect opportunity to move against his rival without repercussions. There is no way Max is coming out of this alive.” Which was precisely what Howyn had intended when he made the offer to Fane. Irrational ambitions could be overlooked or channeled into more meaningful veins. When Max chose to bait his trap with Cassie, he’d sealed his fate. Howyn delivered him into the hands of his enemy then washed his hands of the entire situation. The silence lengthened and Bryson adjusted the fall of his uniform jacket, a sure sign of his anxiety. He was well past middle age and yet projected a powerful presence. “What if Fane can’t deliver on his promise?” “You’ve obviously never stood toe to toe with Fane. There’s something about him that makes my skin crawl and I’m not easy to unnerve.” Bryson let the subject drop and returned to their earlier topic. “What did you have in mind for Karris?” “Karris?” He released a derisive snort. “You’re on a first-name basis with her now? Chrysalis One is no more or less important than any other weapon. No, Chrysalis One is less important because she only houses the weapon. Do not allow yourself to think of her as anything more than a biological container.” “I understand. It won’t happen again.” The reply was stiff, monotone, but his gaze revealed an acceptable degree of contrition. Howyn almost bought the expression until he saw Bryson’s clenched fists. Was the general going soft on him? Bryson’s newfound compassion would definitely make this next part interesting. “If the field test is to move forward as scheduled, Chrysalis One will need access to mutant energy in a controlled environment.” Bryson nodded, his gaze sharp and watchful. “We could station her outside one of their haunts and—” “Emphasis on controlled environment. Her programming is untested. We’re not even sure if the nanites will allow her to absorb mutant energy at the levels necessary to produce the desired results.” “What are our other options?”
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“I’m glad you asked.” Bryson watched him cross the spacious office and manually trigger the door. He’d activated a privacy shield when Bryson arrived, so he was unable to summon his assistant with his usual voice command. “Send her in,” he told the shapely young woman seated in the reception area. He stepped back from the doorway and studied Bryson as Nehalem, one of the general’s lesser wives, moved into the room. She was dressed in the nondescript uniform of a penal inmate, her long auburn hair pulled back away from her pale face. Incarceration didn’t agree with this pampered beauty. “What is she doing here?” Bryson demanded. His resentment was hypocritical. Her indiscretions couldn’t begin to equal his. Even so, Howyn enjoyed the resulting tension. “As we both know, your lesser wife—” “She is not my anything anymore,” Bryson snapped. “She is whatever I say she is.” “And what do you say I am?” Color returned to her sculpted cheeks and Howyn smiled. “For reasons that are not your concern, we would like to catalogue mutant abilities. If you are willing to seek out such abilities and return them to us without the donor realizing what has happened, you would be appropriately rewarded.” “You want me to fuck mutants and return to you while their energy is still in my system?” “Precisely. But they cannot know that you are anything more than a collector,” Howyn warned. Bryson crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Nehalem. “It should be an easy enough part for her to play. She’s had enough practice.” Howyn turned to the general, prepared to deliver the final blow. “For obvious reasons I’m reluctant to trust her.” “I’ll be far more effective without a handler.” Ignoring her insistence, Howyn focused on the general. “There are no secrets in the Underground. Many of the mutants will have heard of her betrayal. They will not be at all surprised when you develop a taste for exotic pleasures.” “Like watching worthless mutants fuck my wife?” He didn’t sound pleased, but the front of his pants had begun to bulge. He looked at Nehalem with a cruel smile. “No one will question my desire to punish you and we both know you’ll enjoy every minute of your punishment.”
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Chapter Four Fane exhaled his frustration and reached for his pants. So things weren’t going to be as simple as he’d hoped. Part of him welcomed the challenge while a more demanding part longed for Cassie with torturous intensity. Still, without her stubborn nature, Cassie wouldn’t be Cassie. After slipping on his pants, he finger-combed his hair back from his face and looked at his reluctant wife. “You vowed to give yourself to me willingly.” “I vowed to come willingly to your bed.” She gathered the blanket around her like a shroud and sat on the foot of the bed. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, yet her taste lingered on his tongue, keeping his passion smoldering. “Your treatment will be far different without my protection. Are you sure you want to become a prisoner?” “Dress it up anyway you like, I am a prisoner.” And he couldn’t free her. Too many people would benefit from her captivity. Cassie was the first real glimmer of hope any of them had received in a very long time. Her knowledge and expertise would help them understand the mutation, perhaps even stabilize or reverse some of the damage. The prospect thrilled him yet frightened him too. Hope could be so cruel when it led to disappointment. Keeping the blanket tucked close against her chest, she carefully freed her arms. The upper curve of her creamy breasts swelled into view. Damn it. This was supposed to be their wedding night. “You promised we’d talk.” She glanced at him then looked away. “Perhaps if I understood everything that happened I could… I need to know.” She looked like a golden temptress, supple and feminine. The last thing he wanted was to talk about the past, but the details were obviously important to her. With a frustrated sigh, he sat on the bed and stuffed a pillow behind him. “Nothing I can say will bring Nicho back. I’d rather concentrate on the future.” Drawing her legs up under the sheet, she folded them in front of her and settled into the softness of the bed. “Did Nicho work for you?” The pain in her eyes tore at his heart and reinforced his reluctance to indulge her curiosity. “You already know the answer. We can’t change the past.” “I need to know the truth, all of it. Did you recruit Nicho before or after he married me?” “None of it matters now. Why put yourself through this?” He leaned forward and reached for her hand, but she snatched it away. “Just answer the question.” 47
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Her mind was battened down tight, not a hint of emotion escaped. He knew he could force his way through her shields, but he wasn’t willing to abolish what little trust she had in him. “Nicho loved you. Don’t ever doubt that.” “Your avoidance is answer enough. You sent him to me and—” “It wasn’t like that. I went after Nicho because of his connection to you, but you were already engaged when I first approached him.” Her lips trembled and tears gathered behind her long lashes. He fisted his hands, desperately wanting to touch her, to comfort her. “Why did you come after me? What happened at the party was no chance encounter.” He pushed his fingers through his hair while regret pelted him like hail. “Nicho uncovered something important, but…they got to him before he could pass it on to me.” “So you seduced me to get whatever Nicho had uncovered.” “Yes.” Their separation became intolerable. She was slipping away, barricading herself behind the past where he couldn’t reach her. With feral determination, he caught her wrists and dragged her toward him. “Stop it!” She tugged against his hold and the blanket sagged to her waist. He wrapped his arms around her then rolled, sweeping her beneath him. Realizing her hands were free, she swung at his face, tears seeping from the corners of her eyes. Her kicking only allowed him to wedge his body between her legs and he pulled her arms above her head. “I’m not going to fuck you!” she cried. “Let me go.” “I lost you once. It will not happen again.” She made a sound half laugh and half sob. “You didn’t lose me. You walked away. You willingly walked away.” “Cassie, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t have a choice.” Pain crept across his soul, making him feel old and weary. “I haven’t had a choice for longer than you can imagine.” “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” Her sarcasm game him strength, drew him back into the present. “Pity is the last thing I want from you.” “I know damn well what you want from me.” She glared then stilled as uncertainty clouded her gaze. “What did Nicho uncover? Was it worth what you did to me?” Tears trailed out the corners of her eyes, disappearing into her golden hair. “I never meant to hurt you. I tried to take the memory from you, to spare you the pain.” “You’re a ruthless bastard,” she sobbed.
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“I know.” The sorrow in her voice released a fresh rush of guilt. “I hunted you down and intentionally seduced you. I knew exactly what I was doing, until I touched you. What erupted between us was unexpected and amazing. I will not apologize for loving you.” “Loving me?” she scoffed. “You’re deluded. You don’t know the meaning of the word. Now get off me!” He should give her time to grieve, give her space to think about all— No, thinking was the last thing she needed to do. The mutations were escalating. Lorelle and the others didn’t have time for Cassie to mourn her dead husband. The past couldn’t be changed. These were desperate times, requiring desperate actions. He couldn’t afford to be noble. “Believe what you like but your body knows the truth. This is real and it has nothing to do with the war.” He kissed her with all the passion consuming his soul. She was his and he intended to keep her. Duty had taken her from him once. He would not make the sacrifice again. For a long time she tolerated his kiss, refusing to respond. He caressed her face and slowed the frantic movements of his tongue. Heat smoldered beneath the surface. He could sense her building desire yet stubbornness and pain created a barrier between them. His dark nature surged, the primitive, elemental essence unchanged by centuries of progress and technology. His mate lay beneath him, denying herself and denying him. He tightened his fingers around her wrists and whispered an incantation against her parted lips. Mystic cords wound around her, anchoring her arms to the bed. “What did you just…? How the hell did you do that?” She tugged against the cords, her eyes wide and uncertain. The struggle jostled her breasts, but the cords easily held her. “I’m a sorcerer, remember? You’ve not yet glimpsed the full extent of my power.” She closed her eyes with a soft cry and the stench of fear tainted the air. He forced the savage back, infusing the possessive demand with threads of tenderness. “Cassandra, look at me.” She shook her head and he ran his knuckles along the side of her face. “Please open your eyes.” Her lashes fluttered then rose and their gazes locked. “I will never hurt you. Never.” “Then release my hands.” “You’ll run away or try to. There really isn’t anywhere for you to go.” “I don’t want to fuck you.” “Then we won’t fuck.” His fingertips trailed from her flushed cheek to the base of her throat. “I’ll just touch you and taste you until you accept the fact you’re mine.” A nervous laugh tore from her throat. “How is that any different than fucking?”
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He crawled off the foot of the bed and dragged the tangled blanket out from underneath her. His hands unfastened his pants, but his gaze admired her naked body. Soft curves and graceful angles, she spread out before him like a pagan sacrifice. She clamped her thighs together when he crawled back onto the bed. With a wicked smile, he moved up along her body and straddled her waist. “Seduction is soft and gentle.” Angling his hips, he rubbed his cock between her breasts, pushing the mounds together to better stimulate his shaft. “Fucking can be harsh and overwhelming.” His thumbs teased her nipples, sending prickly sparks of sensation into her chest. Shifting restlessly beneath him, she said, “No one in their right mind would define this as anything but sexual.” “You offered me your body or led me to believe you had. My protection for the pleasure of your flesh. That’s the nature of a social alliance.” She shivered and her lust stabbed into his mind. Already her resolve was eroding. She wanted him no matter what she said. Leaving his cock in the soft valley between her breasts, he rolled her nipples. The tips grew tight and flushed, responding best to a firm, steady pressure. She shifted restlessly, her gaze darting to his cock again and again. “Do you want it in your mouth?” “You wish.” She turned her face aside. “I don’t want it anywhere near me.” He chuckled. “If you say so.” Crawling downward, he settled over her, holding most of his weight on his forearms and his knees. He angled his hips and pushed his thick length between her thighs then wrapped his legs around hers. His lower body pressed her into the bed, but his upper body hovered above her chest. Her heat sank into his flesh even though he wasn’t inside her. “I ache, love. Can’t you feel how much I want you?” “I don’t care.” Her voice cracked, and she closed her eyes again. “Just get it over with. I hate these games.” “Are you sure?” He suckled her breast, drawing the beaded tip deep into his mouth. “You’re awfully wet for true indifference.” He gently rocked between her thighs as his mouth moved from one breast to the other. Knowing she was helpless, unable to deny him, allowed him to slow. “It’s just sex,” she muttered. “It doesn’t mean anything.” “Of course not.” He eased her legs apart and slid farther down, insinuating himself between her thighs. “It means nothing at all.” Her scent surrounded him. He inhaled deeply and smiled. Her scent might be provocative, but it was nothing compared to her taste. He pressed his lips against her thigh. She clasped him with her legs, preventing him from accessing his destination. “Bend your knees, love. Make room for me.” “Go jack off in the bathroom. I am not your love!”
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Her stubbornness amused him far more than it should have. If he pushed her knees to her shoulders and impaled her, she’d gasp and protest and come despite her objections. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted her wild and eager, needed to hear her cry out his name while she pulsed around his cock. Grasping the back of one knee, he positioned her to his liking and repeated the incantation. Mystic cords slid around her thigh just above her knee, supporting and securing her leg. “Fane!” She kicked at him with her free leg, panic momentarily renewing her struggle. He ignored her protests and caught her flailing limb, binding it with another whispered incantation. She was utterly helpless now, spread before him, her ass barely touching the mattress. “There is no reason to fight me.” He pushed his middle finger into her silky cunt. “Not when you want this as badly as I do.” Desire throbbed through Cassie like the persistent beat of a drum. It had always been like this with Fane. No matter how forcefully her mind protested, her body refused to obey. She wanted him, needed his aggression and the overwhelming pleasure that drove reality away. No! She would not surrender to his…sorcery. Taking full advantage of her immobility, he started at her ankle and kissed a searing trail down the inside of her leg. Each time his lips pressed against her skin heat burrowed into her flesh. Objecting to his seduction only made her sound petulant. The proof of her willingness gleamed on her folds and slicked the insides of her thighs. Her body wanted him regardless of how much she resented his actions. The conflict was dizzying and useless. This was a battle she couldn’t win. She dragged her gaze away from his face and looked at the golden cord restraining her leg. The magical fibers shimmered in the dim light, securing her limb in midair. Sorcerer. How could she doubt it now? He obviously wielded powers that had nothing to do with technology. Her legs were spread and her hands were bound, nullifying her injector. Not that she would have considered using it. Fane’s death was the farthest thing from her mind. His warm breath teased her feminine curls, scattering her troubled thoughts. She arched toward his mouth, craving the skillful lash of his tongue and the greedy pull of his lips. He moved on without touching her sex and she whimpered. “If you want something, sweetheart, all you have to do is ask.” Pride tugged the words back from the tip of her tongue. She might not be able to control her body’s response, but she would not encourage him. She closed her eyes and thought of Nicho, his kind eyes and boyish good looks. Fane shot upward, his face directly above hers. “Look at me. Feel me. Think only of me.” He traced her slit with his cock head, sliding easily between her creamy folds.
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Nicho’s image faded, lost in the gleaming power of Fane’s gaze. She licked her lips, her core clenching, anticipating his hardness deep inside her. “Please.” The word escaped with a whimper and Cassie trembled. She didn’t want to want him, but the longing was inescapable. He found her entrance and pushed slowly inside. His gaze bore into hers as his cock invaded and claimed. When his entire length impaled her, he slipped his hand in between their bodies and circled her clit with his thumb. “Come.” It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command. He braced himself above her, waiting and watching as she accepted the inevitability of her surrender. Without motion, she was focused entirely on their joined bodies and the tension gathering deep inside her. Sensations jolted with each pass of his thumb. Her inner muscles took on the rhythm of his touch and she arched her back, imbedding him more deeply. The pleasure tightened, trapping her breath in her lungs. Then the sensation released and she cried out, coming in distinct pulsations. “Very good.” He kissed her briefly then pulled out of her pliant body. “Fane?” Had that pleading, breathless voice really been hers? “I’m right here, love.” His mouth settled over her pussy, rewarding her with tender licks and careful sucks. She floated on a sensual tide, savoring the languid pleasure. His hands glided over her skin, caressing her hips and squeezing her breasts. The possessive demand was gone, replaced by amorous caring. Her heart fluttered, echoing the spontaneous ripple of her core. “I could live on your cream.” His mouth moved against her as he whispered the words. With deliberate precision, he tilted his head and pushed his tongue into her passage. The penetration seemed slight after the fullness of his cock, but it thrilled her all the same. He craved her, hungered for her body and soul. As if responding to her fleeting thought, his fiery being rushed into her mind. He warmed her and consumed her, even as his energy infused and strengthened her. She gasped and trembled, lost in the sizzling flow. His mouth became more demanding. She clutched her hands and rocked into the kiss. Her immobility freed her to revel in the pleasure, to respond without distraction. Opening her mind, she welcomed him, absorbed his energy with greedy abandon. Her orgasm burst with sudden fury and a sharp cry escaped her lips. He lunged upward, thrusting to the hilt as her passage throbbed. His entrance prolonged her release. She tightened around him, embracing him the only way she could. He drove into her, strong and steady, the force jostling her breasts and launching fresh sensations. The cords securing her legs disintegrated and she locked her ankles
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behind his back. He slipped his hands beneath her ass and lifted her into each deep thrust. His gaze ignited with mutant light, showering her skin with tingles. Tension sculpted his features, accenting the angles with savage beauty. He tossed his head and thrust harder. His presence in her mind intensified, blinding her, overwhelming her. Unhooking her ankles, she raised her legs high against his sides, holding him without restricting his movements. “Mine.” He covered her mouth with his and thrust his tongue into her waiting warmth. The taste of her pleasure filled her mouth as his tongue stroked against hers. Joined, melded, combined, she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. His ravenous hunger incited her eager response and her excitement fed his fire. With a deep moan he wrapped his arms around her and came, the forceful jet of his seed triggering her final climax. She shuddered against him and rippled around him as they hung suspended beyond reality. The cords around her wrists released and he gathered her against his chest, rolling them to their sides. He anchored her leg to his hip, keeping their bodies joined as he peppered kisses over her damp skin. “Is the link intentional?” she asked when her passion-muddled brain began to function again. He raised his head and looked into her eyes. “Not entirely. I connected with your mind so I could locate you but…” “You didn’t mean for the line to stay active?” “Basically.” Mutant light faded from his gaze and his expression became guarded. “As long as I’m responsible for your safety, it’s a necessary precaution. That’s why I haven’t terminated the link.” She smiled despite the disappointment creeping into her lethargy. When push came to shove, she was his prisoner and they were enemies. She couldn’t let their physical attraction distract her from reality. Nothing had changed. This was just sex. Just unbelievable, mind-blowing sex. “A metaphysical tracking device?” she mused. “I can’t sense your thoughts unless I intentionally scan your mind, but I will instantaneously know if you’re in danger.” He hesitated then asked, “Have you always been telepathic?” “I inherited the power from my mother, but it’s nothing special. My strongest ability is shielding.” “Can you access our link, or are you just receiving?” Should she tell him she had access to his mind? It had given her a small advantage when she first awakened. No, the situation was slanted toward him on so many levels. She’d keep this secret to herself for now. She shook her head. “Everything grows stronger during sex, but I seem to be the receiver.”
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“Even now I can feel your shields going back up. Who taught you to protect your mind?” His tone was casual, but she didn’t miss the suspicion in his eyes. She shrugged, emulating his conversational tone. “After Nicho was murdered I learned many new skills. I refused to let the tragedy drive me from my home, but I wanted to feel safe.” “There is more to this than new skills. If you’d possessed these powers three years ago, I would have sensed them.” He paused again, his gaze penetrating. “Did you have yourself altered in some way?” There was no drawback to letting him know she wasn’t as helpless as he presumed. She closed her fingers into a loose fist, hiding the transfer tube. She could reveal the source without divulging the details. “Think about it, Fane. What’s my life’s work?” “Nanites. You injected yourself with nanites…that do what exactly?” “That’s none of your business.” She turned her face into the warmth of his chest to hide her smile.
***** Fane stared at the ceiling, trying to will his body to sleep. Cassie curled against his side, soft, warm and inviting. His arousal stirred back to life mere moments after he found release. They’d made love twice more before she fell asleep and still he was not satisfied. Only with Cassie was he insatiable and only with her could he hope to ease the ache. He understood the urgency, the instinctual demands fueling their passion. Their souls had started to bond three years before while her heart was open to his. Then the bond had slumbered, inactive yet intact during their separation. Now that they were together again, the bond would strengthen each time they touched and it would compel them to touch each time they were together. The bonding process could last weeks or months, depending on the couple. She might have accepted him back into her bed, but she was far from inviting him into her heart. Her resentment was understandable. She’d been betrayed at every turn. Even so, he felt powerless to bridge the gap and start the healing. Easing her onto her back, he carefully disentangled their bodies. Mutual trust was the foundation for any relationship and Cassie wasn’t going to trust him simply because her body responded to his. He had to earn her trust, prove to her that he would never fail her again. He took a quick shower and dressed, loath to leave her yet needing a few minutes away from the intoxicating distraction of her soft body. He’d let her sleep for a few hours then bring her breakfast, so they could share a quiet meal before they started the day. Light streamed out under Roark’s office door, so Fane knocked on the panel. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be up and around.
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“It’s open,” Roark called. Fane triggered the door and stepped inside. Roark was seated behind his desk, studying the angled monitor centered on his desk. “Good morning.” “I didn’t expect to see you until much later,” Roark said with a knowing smile. “She’s sleeping. For now.” He returned the doctor’s smile. “What can I do for you?” Suspecting he wouldn’t be here long, Fane didn’t bother to sit down. “Can nanites create paranormal abilities in someone who didn’t originally have them?” Roark pushed back from his desk and crossed his legs. “I’ve never heard of such a thing, but I’m not the nanites expert.” “Well, the nanites expert is the reason I ask. She told me she injected herself with nanites, but she wouldn’t explain their capabilities.” “Why did she inject herself with nanites?” “It’s a long story. I know Mal Ton’s strength and ability to heal is due in part to nanites, but what else can they do?” “We’re just talking about biological applications?” “Yes.” Fane clasped his hands behind his back, trying not to let his impatience show. The need to be near Cassie, to touch her had never been quite this strong. “In rare cases they can directly affect DNA, but protein manipulation has been far more successful.” “If nanites can manipulate protein, how does that benefit the host?” “It depends on their programming.” Roark spread his hands and offered a helpless shrug. “I really need more information before I can hazard a guess.” And the person with the information wasn’t about to tell him. Fane sighed. “All right. Thanks for your time.” He turned to go. “Has she agreed to cooperate with us?” “I’ll let you know.” The next three hours dragged by as Fane wandered the corridors of the Stilox headquarters. He reviewed the past few days, amazed at all that had been accomplished and needing the distraction from the desire twisting inside him. Max was incarcerated in the Underground. His power would be drained on a regular basis, making it impossible for him to teleport or use any other paranormal ability. Mal Ton wanted to execute him, insisting he remained a danger as long as he drew breath. There was validity in the position, but Fane didn’t want the loss of another life laid at his feet. There had to be a way to neutralize Max permanently and he would find it. Sean was searching Old Towne Sanctum for the last two humans. If anyone could find out what happened to them it was Sean. Fane couldn’t be everywhere at once, no matter how hard he tried. Long ago he’d learned to delegate and trust in the abilities of his followers.
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His wandering thoughts naturally brought him back to Cassie. They had resolved so much yet even more remained unsettled between them. One step at a time. He really had no other choice. Unsure what she would enjoy, he filled a tray with a selection of breakfast items and returned to the apartment assigned for their use. She was still asleep, curled on her side with her hand tucked beneath her cheek. He set the tray on the table and knelt beside the bed, mesmerized by her serene beauty. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who had surrendered herself so completely last night. After their first coupling, she had abandoned any attempt at reluctance. She’d accepted her body’s demands and reveled in her sexuality. He hoped she would eventually offer herself body and soul to their joining, but for now he would treasure her physical surrender. Brushing her hair back from her brow, he kissed her eyelids, and whispered, “Wake up, my love. You’re late for work.” Her lips curved in a dreamy smile. “It didn’t feel like work to me.” He chuckled. “I want nothing more than to spend the day in bed with you, but your first task awaits.” She blinked repeatedly then sat up, the sheet snagging on the hardness of one nipple. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one hungering for more. “What’s my first task?” Her openness faded as she awakened more fully. “Lorelle, Mal Ton’s mate.” Tucking the sheet beneath her arms, she wiggled back against the wall. “What’s wrong with her?” “I’ll let Roark and Andrea fill you in. They know more about the situation than I do.” She nodded, absently licking her lips. “Three tasks then you set me free, right?” The lie wouldn’t pass his lips. If he had his way she would never return to her old life, never be separated from him again. “Fane, last night changes nothing. You have to set me free.” “I brought you a breakfast tray.” He pushed to his feet, unable to meet her gaze. “Thought you might be hungry.” She caught his arm and waited until he looked at her before she spoke again. “Promise me. If I complete all three tasks, you will let me go.” His throat tightened and his mouth dried out. Just the possibility was unbearable. “If you still want to leave when the tasks are complete, I’ll have no choice but to let you go.”
***** Cassie pushed back from the desk and crossed her arms over her chest. “I can’t help her.”
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“Can’t or won’t?” Roark challenged. His surliness surprised her. He’d been easygoing and likable for most of the day. With wavy dark hair and teal eyes, it was doubtful any of his Stilox ancestors had “tainted” their linage with Protarian blood. So why would he choose a human for his primary mate? “We’ve shown you all the data we’ve collected,” the human in question commented. Cassie shifted her gaze to Andrea with objective curiosity. She was pretty enough, in the conservative, clinical style that often plagued females who spent too much time in laboratories. Her intelligence was undeniable and Cassie had seen flashes of compassion and kindness. Still, she was human, an obscure, technologically challenged race. “You seem distracted,” Roark said. “Do you need a break? You didn’t eat much earlier. Would you like to try something else?” And he was the charming doctor again. Fascinating. “Many animals lose their appetites in captivity.” “Do you often think of yourself as an animal?” She hadn’t heard Fane enter Roark’s office, but she easily recognized his voice. Her chair faced the desk, which put her back to the door. “Only when I’m treated like one.” He moved closer, stepping into her peripheral vision. His clothing, though simple by Protarian standards, set him apart from the Stilox rebels. They all wore functional garments in solid shades of green, gray or black. Fane’s pants were black, but his ivory tunic was edged with quilted golden cloth. The rich embellishment accented the red tones in his dark hair and made his light green eyes shine even brighter. “I’m not sure we’ve earned the insinuation, but I’ll try harder to make you feel welcome.” Moving behind her again, he slipped his hands beneath her hair and found her shoulders. “Have you made any progress with your first assignment?” His hands squeezed her tense muscles, his thumbs running up the back of her neck. It felt so wonderful, her eyes drifted closed and she sighed. “I can’t reprogram Lorelle’s nanites without an interface sequencer.” “Didn’t you write the program that makes the nanites work?” His touch was more effective than a drug. She relaxed and forgot all the ways she’d intended to twist the situation to her advantage. A woman’s life hung in the balance. It really wasn’t fair to let an innocent die to assuage her pride. Lorelle wasn’t even Stilox. The humans had been brought to this star system against their will. “I was one member of the team and it took two years to develop.” She reached back and lifted his hands off her shoulders, refusing to be molded—literally—to his will. “I either need access to the central database or I need my DPU.” “Logging on to the central computer is much too risky,” Roark said. “What’s a DPU?” Andrea asked.
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“A data processing unit. It doesn’t rely on shared applications to function,” Fane explained. Then he looked at Cassie, and asked, “Where would we have to go to get yours?” “My apartment.” He shook his head. “Not a chance. We couldn’t get anywhere near your apartment without alerting your father.” “And I can’t help Lorelle without access to an interface sequencer.” Fane paced the length of the room, ending beside Roark’s desk. “I’ll take you to the Underground. One of my hackers will have to find us a back door into the data stream.” She didn’t argue. The Underground was one step closer to home. At least she’d be back on Protaria. “The nanites are replicating at an alarming rate. Is it possible to put Lorelle in stasis?” “A stasis chamber won’t affect the nanites,” Roark said. “It will only arrest her biological functions.” “I’m aware of that. Nanites have a safety protocol built into them. I can tell them to hibernate, but as closely as they’ve integrated into her physiology, I’d rather she be in stasis when I issue the command.” Fane looked at Roark, concern obvious in his tense expression. Roark rubbed the bridge of his nose and nodded. “It makes sense. If Lorelle’s body didn’t depend on the nanites, we would have simply destroyed them. This will buy us some much-needed time.” “Will you be able to reverse the changes or just prevent the nanites from continuing with their objective?” Andrea wanted to know. “I’m not sure. Have any of the changes they’ve made so far been particularly troubling?” “No,” Andrea admitted. “She’s stronger and healthier than she’s ever been before.” Cassie accepted the information with a stiff nod. “Then I’ll concentrate on revising their objective as opposed to reversing it.” Once she had access to the sequencer, reprogramming the nanites should be no challenge. Hopefully the other tasks were as rudimentary. “What else do you need me to do?” “One task at a time,” Fane said. “I don’t want you to be distracted.” “May I ask a question?” Andrea stepped into her peripheral vision. “It isn’t technically part of any of the tasks.” Cassie smiled despite the tense situation. Andrea had been nothing but kind to her. “I reserve the right not to answer, but ask away.” “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around Stilox reproduction. We’ve run every test we can think of and we’re still unable to determine if human and Stilox physiology are compatible.” “Reproduction isn’t my area of expertise.”
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“I’m a general practitioner,” Roark said. “Your knowledge base is far more extensive than mine.” “I presume your interest is personal.” Roark glanced at Andrea then nodded. Cassie wasn’t sure why she cared. This was clearly another task. Even so, the cautious hope in the human’s eyes tugged at Cassie’s heartstrings. “Is your DNA triploid?” she asked Roark. “Yes. My family has possessed the third DNA strand for several generations.” “Does your human mate understand what that means?” Primary and secondary mates, the practice had always fascinated Cassie. Biology might have shaped the Stilox social system, but Cassie couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to have her senses overwhelmed by two demanding lovers. “Andrea knows two Stilox males are required for conception.” “Who’s your Second?” “Mal Ton.” Cassie’s gaze flew to Andrea. “And you’re still interested in breeding?” Andrea laughed. “He’s not nearly as intimidating once you get to know him.” “I’ll take your word for it.” “If I give you samples of our DNA, will you be able to determine if conception is possible?” Roark persisted. “If I had access to my lab, there would be no problem. Without it, I’m not sure I can tell you any more than you know already.” “One task at a time,” Fane reminded. “Send the samples with us if you like, but Lorelle is our top priority.”
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Chapter Five Cassie sat back and watched the easy interaction between Fane and Mal Ton. With his mate in stasis and temporarily out of danger, Mal Ton had insisted on accompanying them back to Protaria. The shuttle was small and old compared to Cassie’s private cruiser. The men didn’t seem to notice or care. Mal Ton piloted the craft while Fane navigated. They were far more interested in their lively conversation than the mundane actions required to maneuver the ship. “I wasn’t that drunk,” Fane objected. “You could hardly walk.” Mal Ton’s laugh was deep and surprisingly warm. “If I hadn’t recognized your voice and come running, they would have beaten the shit out of you.” “So you say each time you tell this story. I don’t remember you being—” “You don’t remember anything. You were seriously fucked up.” Fane waved away the conclusion and smiled at Cassie. “He’s been trying to exploit my gratitude for years. I know him too well to fall for the ploy.” “How long have you known each other?” Cassie searched her memory. She knew scattered facts about each of them, but her information raised far more questions than it answered. Mal Ton had been a thorn in her father’s side longer than she’d been alive and Fane led the Mutant Underground. Beyond their hostility toward the Protarian elite, what connected these two? “We’ve known each other a very long time,” Fane admitted. “Our paths keep crossing, whether we like it our not.” Mal Ton’s tone was still playful. Realizing the vagueness of both answers, Cassie asked, “How did you meet?” “I was dispatched to kill him.” Mal Ton’s grin made it hard to determine if he was serious or not. “I was under the impression that you’re the best Stilox has to offer. What kept you from achieving your objective?” She focused on Mal Ton, fascinated by his agreeable mood. Andrea was right. He wasn’t nearly as intimidating once he stopped scowling. “I didn’t fail.” He shot her an irritated glance. “When I located my target, I realized he was far more valuable to us alive than dead.” “Your decision is still debatable, but I’m glad you took pity on me.” Fane sounded dismissive, as if he were uncomfortable with the topic.
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“It wasn’t pity and you know it,” Mal Ton objected. “You were an opportunity we couldn’t afford to squander. It would have been foolish to end your life before we understood—” “It all happened ages ago. I’m sure Cassie would rather talk about something more pertinent to the present.” Cassie shook her head. “Actually, my father refuses to talk about the past and the archives have been twisted by Protarian politics. I know conflict is never as one-sided as the Protarian historians would have us believe. I’d love to hear the other side of the story for a change.” “Why?” Fane swiveled his chair to face her, his expression carefully guarded. “Protarians don’t come any more elite. What’s your sudden interest in the past?” She shifted in her seat, refusing to retreat. “I’m curious and I’m bored,” she lied. Her interest would have been nonexistent if it weren’t for Fane. He intrigued her, yet she knew so little about him. “Is there some reason you don’t want me to know these things?” “You won’t believe us even if we told you,” Fane muttered. “Then what do you have to lose?” He released his safety restraints with an impatient snap and leaned toward her. “This might be an entertaining story to you, but we lived through each event, experienced each horror.” His emotions were banked, suppressed until all she could feel was defused unrest. She missed the blazing intensity she’d enjoyed so well the night before. “She doesn’t understand, Fane. Why would she? The worst of it was over by the time she was born.” She looked from Mal Ton to Fane and back. Both men appeared healthy and in the prime of their lives. How old were they? How much had they suffered before she’d drawn her first breath? “How much do you know about the war?” Fane leaned against his chair’s back and folded his arms over his chest. “What are the elite taught about the conflict?” “It escalated out of a colonization dispute, didn’t it?” It was embarrassing how little she actually knew. The war had shaped events and drastically changed conditions on both planets and still the elite strolled through life as if it were irrelevant. “That was a small part of it,” Fane said. “Protaria was overcrowded and Stilox was the obvious choice for annexation. Unfortunately the Stilox weren’t interested in developing a Protarian province in the middle of their wilderness.” “We tried to negotiate a mutually agreeable program.” Mal Ton checked the instruments before he turned around and joined the conversation. “Everything we proposed was too slow and too restrictive.”
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“Even the Stilox people couldn’t agree on how many—if any—of the Protarians should be allowed to immigrate. Resentment ran deep even before the war began.” Fane relaxed a bit, placing his hands on the armrests. She unfastened her safety straps as well, crossing her legs as she absorbed the information. “This is all so odd. Wasn’t Stilox settled by Protarian immigrants in the first place?” “Stilox was an untamed wilderness when my ancestors settled there,” Mal Ton said. “The Protarians wanted to waltz in and enjoy the benefits and beauty now that the work was done.” Fane fidgeted, his expression inscrutable. “Let’s move on or we’ll still be debating the cause of the war when we land. Suffice it to say negotiations broke down and the Protarians decided to take what they wanted regardless of the opposition. They sent in troops, the Stilox resisted and the war began.” “We were outnumbered and outgunned, which put us on the defensive from the beginning. We’d drive them back and they’d descend in greater numbers. We had no choice but to dig in and dig deep. The majority of the action took place either on or in the sky above Stilox.” “So the Protarians decimated the planet they were so determined to annex.” She shook her head, saddened by the senseless loss. Mal Ton was right. The worst of the fighting had taken place before her birth. The war had always seemed unreal to Cassie, a tragic chapter in Protarian history. Mal Ton nodded. “It happened gradually, but no one can deny the result.” “Have you both been alive for the entire war?” “Yes.” Fane didn’t elaborate. “I wish I’d known this before. You’re way too old for me.” She tried to lighten Fane’s mood with her jest, but his emotions remained muted. “So why did the Stilox want you dead? No, go a little further back. Were you born on Protaria, or are you Stilox like Mal Ton?” “I was born in a secluded village high in the Faundi Mountains. My people were primitive, far more interested in pleasing our gods than amassing possessions. My father was chief defender. He taught me how to access the vision world and control my abilities.” “Then you had powers before…” “The mutation intensified my gifts, but I was a ‘sorcerer’ long before the war reached our village.” An occasional spike of anger or frustration hinted at how hard he was fighting to conceal his emotions from her. She understood his reluctance, but it made her sad. After all they’d shared physically, she wanted him to trust her with his emotions. The realization brought her up short. Why would she want him to trust her with his
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feelings? They weren’t lovers, not really. They were…passing time until her tasks were complete. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said. “Please continue.” “The war was dragging on and, as you mentioned, the planet needed for the mass relocation was being torn to shreds.” Fane paused and mutant light flashed in his gaze. “The Protarian leaders needed a creative solution and they needed it fast.” Mal Ton picked up the tale. “They developed the lentavirus, hoping it would devastate the population without damaging the land. The virus was too fragile in its airborne state and it incapacitated its victims so quickly they weren’t able to spread it to others. So they refined the virus and focused on another strategy.” Mal Ton took a deep breath and rushed on. “They wanted to target adults, not children, and utilize an attack we wouldn’t anticipate.” “That’s where I came in, or rather my people. The Protarian leaders threatened to destroy our village and confiscate our land if we didn’t cooperate with their scheme. They held our women and children hostage and turned our men into…” Fane averted his face as rage surged through him, one moment of scorching anger then the artificial calm. “The Faundi tribe was naturally resistant to many diseases that killed other Protarians,” Mal Ton picked up the story as Fane’s words trailed away. “This was one of the reasons the Protarians ‘recruited’ them. They didn’t seem to be affected by the lentavirus.” “But Fane’s genetics mutated.” Fane stared off into the distance, so she spoke to Mal Ton. “He had to be affected at some point.” Fane sharply turned his head, drawing her attention. “We became carriers. They used our bodies to smuggle their weapon behind enemy lines.” “Actually, it was even more despicable than that. As you’re probably aware, sexual frenzy is programmed into the lentavirus to help facilitate its spread. The Faundi warriors were altered. Their sex drive was heightened and their pheromones amplified, making them extremely attractive to others.” Understanding unfurled within her and she shuddered. “Each time they had sex with someone, they infected them with the lentavirus.” “They had no choice,” Mal Ton insisted, his gaze on Fane. “Not only were they stimulated to the brink of insanity, each time they refused a mission one of their loved ones was murdered.” “Kill a stranger or kill someone you love? It isn’t much of a choice.” She reached for Fane’s hand as he retreated deeper into his isolation. He allowed her touch for a moment then shifted position, taking his fingers just out of reach. Her heart ached for him, yet she barely imagined the horrors he must have endured. “We were the first to mutate.” Fane’s voice was monotone, as expressionless as his face. “Paranormal abilities were common among my people even before the virus started rewriting our DNA.” 63
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“I saw Fane in action while I was tracking him,” Mal Ton told her. “His mutation had stabilized and he was pretty damn amazing. That’s when I realized I couldn’t kill him.” “Instead he turned me over to a team of doctors and scientists who didn’t treat me a whole hell of a lot better than the Protarians had.” “You survived the lentavirus. We had to know what it was about your physiology that kept you alive. We were dropping like flies.” Fane didn’t reply, so Mal Ton went on. “Combining elements of his immune system with technology they’d developed for warriors like me, our scientists were able to create an inhibitor, and eventually a counteragent that neutralized the virus.” “They also spread our mutations to the Stilox population.” “You don’t know that.” The frustration in Mal Ton’s voice told Cassie they’d had this conversation before. “Everyone who survived exposure mutated to some degree.” “But those treated with the Faundi serum mutated faster and underwent far more drastic changes.” His control slipped, revealing a glimpse of his overwhelming shame. “Oh my God, do you blame yourself for the whole damn war?” She scooted to the edge of her seat and grasped both his hands. “That’s ridiculous. You were a victim in all this, not—” “I was a catalyst, an accelerant. Without the Faundi, they might never have found a way to spread the virus.” “They would have found a way,” Cassie insisted. He didn’t pull his hands away, but his mental shields were stronger than ever. Mal Ton shook his head and pivoted back around. “He does guilt so well. I’ve given up trying to talk him out of it.” Her stubborn nature compelled her to try to reach beyond Fane’s emotional defenses. His convictions might place him on the opposite side of the conflict, but their connection was undeniable. “Did you willingly participate in any of it?” Fane’s fingers gently squeezed hers as he searched her gaze. “Do you honestly believe one word we’ve said?” His question surprised her. Why did he presume she was so calloused she’d doubt their story? “What do you gain by lying about the past? I’ve seen the devastation with my own eyes and I know we developed the lentavirus. No one denies it. I was directly involved in refining the counteragent.” “You’re Chancellor Howyn’s daughter. It would be a spectacular coup if we could convert you to the rebel cause.” His gaze intensified, possessive yet caressing. She released his hands, uncomfortable with the sudden change in his demeanor. He caught one of her wrists before she could retreat and pulled her toward him. “We answered your questions, sweetheart, now it’s time for you to answer mine. Your new project is being guarded like a global treasure. We’ve never encountered security this tight before. So tell me, Dr. Myer. What are you cooking in your lab?”
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***** Nehalem jerked her hand out of her husband’s grasp and took a step back. “Don’t paw me! You gave up the right to touch me a long time ago.” They’d left Howyn’s office in hostile silence and shuttled to this rundown hotel on the outskirts of Old Towne Sanctum. She only had the broadest idea of what he expected her to do and she wasn’t anxious to hear the details. “You’re my wife,” he snapped, reaching for her again. “Nothing can change that.” She twisted away, hoping her glare concealed her pain. “I meant so much to you that you stood idly by while I was thrown in prison. Do you have any idea of the indignities I suffered in that place?” “Your actions landed you in prison. I had nothing to do with it.” Arguing with him was pointless, had always been pointless, but her seething emotions demanded release. She clenched her fists until her palms stung and imagined a world-class temper tantrum. She’d scream and smash the furniture as she called him filthy names. The outburst progressed no further than her imagination, however. Indulging her anger would reveal how deeply she’d been affected by his betrayal, and her position was already too vulnerable. “You could have stopped it,” she said softly, consciously releasing her hands. He shrugged, his indifference nearly pushing her over the edge. “And you could have remained faithful to your wedding vows. You chose to use that beautiful body to ferret out information for Max. Now you’re going to do the same for me.” She had his undivided attention for the first time in years. The irony made her want to scream. Her affairs and her association with Max had been designed to attract Bryson’s attention. And it had all been in vain. He didn’t love her, had never loved her. She was a possession, something for others to covet, to admire but never touch. With a frustrated sigh, she pushed away the past and focused on the present. Fucking mutants was infinitely better than returning to prison. If she managed to reignite her husband’s lust in the process, so much the better. Her physical appeal was her only weapon and she’d learned to use it ruthlessly. “Do I have your word you won’t send me back to prison as soon as you have what you need?” Bryson was old-school military. Honor and respect were important to him. If he gave his word, chances were good he’d keep it. A good chance was the best she could hope for under the circumstances. “This will be an ongoing operation.” He slipped off his uniform jacket and laid it over the back of a chair. “You should remain useful for some time to come.” “That didn’t answer my question. Once you’ve catalogued all the mutant powers you can possibly use, what happens to me?” “That’s up to you. I can set you up in a secluded location and provide for your needs or you can relocate. I have no interest in you physically, so I’d suggest relocation.”
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His casual statement incited her determination. She hadn’t met a man yet who could resist her charms. She understood the power of sexuality and wasn’t afraid to use it. “When do we get started?” “As soon as my lieutenant returns with your costume. You can’t walk into a mutant bar in a prison uniform.” “Do we have specific targets or will any mutant do?” “You’ll see.” Her costume arrived a few minutes later and Bryson updated the chancellor while she changed. The skin-tight minidress had an antique zipper running up the front and left little to the imagination. She buckled the high-heeled sandals on and smoothed the supple material over her hips. There had been no undergarments, so the transformation didn’t take long. “Now what?” Lust blazed in Bryson’s eyes as he looked her up and down. “We go find ourselves some mutants.” “Mutants?” A shiver of fear rippled through her excitement. What exactly did he have in mind? “We don’t have time for you to seduce them one at a time. You’re going to be the life of the party.” Her mouth went dry and her stomach knotted tighter with each step she took. They left the hotel behind and headed into the heart of Old Towne. The dilapidated buildings and piles of trash made it hard to believe they were on the same planet much less in the same city. The sun had just begun to set, casting eerie shadows over the deserted street. “Team A check in,” Bryson spoke quietly, as if he were muttering to himself. “Copy. Check in team B.” Of course he wouldn’t attempt this alone. Bryson never went anywhere without security. Would he let them watch her fuck the mutants? A secret thrill sped along her spine. She could imagine his men, highly trained and disciplined, watching her, wanting her, imagining themselves in the place of the mutants. It added a decadent layer to an already brazen situation. The life of the party, indeed. “Here we go.” He ushered her into a bar set slightly back from the street. She blinked into the dimness as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. The air smelled of stale liquor and sweat. A row of patrons lined the bar, far more men than women. Small round tables were scattered about and holographic arcade machines were situated against the back wall of the oblong room. “See the man at the end of the bar?” Bryson nodded in the general direction. “The one with the jacket across his lap?” “Yes. He’s our first target.” “Why him?” 66
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“His face came up in the database. He’s telekinetic.” She looked up at Bryson, confusion knitting her brow. “How did you know he was going to be here?” “I didn’t. My corneal implant is transmitting everything I see to the surveillance ship. They just ran him through the database.” “All right. How do we play this?” She wanted to control the situation as much as possible, but she might have to defer to Bryson until they were in a less public place. “We’ll tell him I like to watch. That’s all he needs to know.” With a stiff nod, she headed toward the man at the end of the bar. She caught his attention long before she reached him. His gaze moved boldly over her body as he raised his glass for a long swig of beer. “You’re a long way from home,” the mutant said as she slipped onto the stool beside him. Bryson stood behind her, staring down the younger man over her head. “What makes you say that?” She crossed her legs, causing the dress to ride up nearly to her crotch. “You’d stand out in any room, but your husband is even more conspicuous.” He looked past her and met Bryson’s gaze. “What brings you to hell, General?” Bryson placed his hands on her shoulders, his grip firm and warm. “If you know who I am, surely you can guess what I’m after.” The mutant’s gaze swept down to her breasts as he said, “If my wife had a taste for mutants, this is the last place I’d bring her.” “But my wife and I have come to an agreement. She can indulge her taste for mutants as long as I am present for the encounter. I won’t interfere. I just need to ensure her safety.” “Really.” He finished his beer and slid the glass toward the opposite side of the bar. “You’re a lot more understanding than I’d be.” “If she insists on behaving like a whore, I see no reason I shouldn’t be entertained by her behavior.” With sudden aggression, Bryson grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. “Look at her. Can you deny she’s beautiful?” “Oh, she’s definitely fuckable. I just suspect the price would be higher than I’m willing to pay.” Bryson reached around and pulled on the zipper, revealing the luscious curve of her breasts. “All I ask is that you treat her like the slut she is. She likes it rough and she likes it over and over. Don’t you, dear?” His warm breath teased her ear and the mutant’s gaze began to glow. Her scalp stung and her eyes teared, but her body didn’t care. Heat pooled between her thighs and her pussy ripened. Max had trained her well, taught her to respond instantly. She was a sexual being with a powerful appetite. Only by embracing her true nature could she hope to control her circumstances.
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The mutant shifted on his stool, obviously uncomfortable. She licked her lips, drawing his gaze to her face. “I have a hard time being a proper wife, so we’ve learned to compromise.” Bryson tensed against her back. “Spread your legs for him, wife. Let him feel your soft, wet cunt.” Her surroundings dimmed as she gazed into the mutant’s eyes. She turned toward him and moved her legs apart, anticipation speeding her pulse. “Go on. Touch her. She loves this shit.” The mutant reached out his hand then pulled it back. “Is this really what you want?” She ran her fingers from her knees to the hem of her dress, a sexy smile curving her lips. “Why don’t you find out?” With obvious hesitation, the mutant slipped his hand between her thighs. His fingertips brushed her damp folds and he sucked in a ragged breath. She rocked her hips, rubbing herself against him. “Don’t be shy.” Bryson grabbed the mutant’s wrist and pulled him closer. “Feel how snug she is, how eager for cock.” The last of his uncertainty vanished. He pushed two fingers into her passage as he crawled off his stool. She wrapped her legs around his hips and rested her feet on the seat he’d just vacated. His hand pumped between her thighs, his long fingers stabbing into her pussy. “Fuck, she’s hot,” he whispered. “Tyler, take this upstairs.” The bartender motioned toward the staircase in the back corner of the room. “You know I don’t allow this shit on the main floor.” “Sorry.” Tyler pulled his hand out from between her thighs and put them in his mouth. His lids drooped as he savored her essence. Then he grasped her upper arm and pulled her off the stool. “Come on.” “Wait.” Bryson stopped him. “Grab some of your friends. Show her a really good time.” Nehalem ran her hands up Tyler’s chest and smiled into his eyes. “I like my men powerful. Do you have any friends who qualify?” “I know what you’re after and I know just the guys to satisfy your craving.” Tyler took them to one of the bedrooms on the second level. His movements became stilted as he turned toward the door. “I’ll be right back. Please don’t leave. We’ll make it worth the wait.” “We could really use a shifter,” Bryson muttered once they were alone again. “What do you think the chances are he’ll come back with one?” “Slim to none.” She walked across the room and examined the bed. It was old and squeaky, but the bedding looked clean. “Besides, the more powerful the ability, the harder it is to absorb.”
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“How many mutants have you fucked?” Bitterness flashed in his dark eyes. Despite his claim of physical indifference, his gaze lingered on her breasts with unmistakable longing. “Are you any better?” She put her hands on her hips, spreading the front of her dress even wider. “You don’t resist your impulses. You just marry any woman you want in your bed. You fuck them a time or two then move on to the next without a backward glance.” “Jealous?” “I used to be, but I’ve outgrown such useless emotions.” “Sure you have.” Tyler returned, saving her from further exchange. “This is Eric and Jon.” He didn’t indicate which one was which as he closed and locked the door. “And what are their abilities?” She approached the newcomers, her lips parted in a soft smile. The tall blond fisted the front of her dress with one hand and lifted her straight up in the air. “You tell me.” She laughed, excited by his unexpected show of strength. He was tall and lanky. No one would suspect him of preternatural strength. “Put me down. I don’t want my dress to rip.” He set her down and the other man moved in front of her. His hair was darker and shorter than the blond’s, but his features were more refined. He held out his hand expectantly. “I’m Jon. That’s Eric. And you’re too beautiful to be a collector.” His long fingers curved around her hand and heat built against her palm. Mutant light erupted in his eyes and the burning sensation shot up her arm. “Wow.” She shivered, examining her palm. Her skin was pink yet unharmed by the energy transfer. “Can you produce fire or just heat?” “If I don’t concentrate really hard, you’re likely to find out when I come.” “So get busy, boys,” Bryson ordered. “We don’t have all night.” “Yes, sir,” Tyler offered Bryson a mock salute. The rest took place in a blur of hands and lips and lust. They stripped Nehalem of her dress and paused to explore her body before they bothered to undress themselves. She stopped trying to keep track of who was touching her where. Hands slid over her breasts and her back, stroked down her arms and up her legs. Someone squeezed her ass while someone else fingered her pussy. She closed her eyes and let the sensations take her where they would. Desire expanded as their teasing grew more specific. A warm tongue circled her clit and soft lips explored her ass cheeks. Her nipples were suckled and pinched, making her breasts feel heavy and hot. Yet through it all, she felt despondent, emotionally removed from her body. Was she intimidated by the situation or…something was missing.
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Tyler urged her to her knees and she went willingly. He pushed his cock toward her mouth and she obediently parted her lips. None of it mattered. She was surrendering her body to keep herself out of prison. They weren’t really touching her. “Are you having fun, wife?” Bryson’s angry tone made her open her eyes. She looked at her husband while the mutant fucked her mouth and the first ping of pleasure erupted deep inside her. Bryson’s gaze bore into hers, shimmering with lust and jealousy. He could pretend he didn’t care, but his expression told a different story. If he felt nothing for her, he wouldn’t be jealous. Eric guided one of her hands to his cock, which meant Jon was kneeling behind her. Jon fingered her pussy while his tongue explored her other opening. Anal pleasures were her favorite. It was so savage, so brutal to have a thick cock moving in her ass. “Tyler, you’re being greedy. Let Eric have a turn in her mouth.” Bryson’s deep voice sensitized her skin and made her nipples tingle. If only he’d touch her with more than his lustful gaze. She licked her lips as the men switched places. Eric brought his cock toward her lips. She gazed at her husband as the thick length slid against her tongue. Bryson rubbed the front of his pants, no longer trying to hide his erection. “Touch her breasts, Tyler,” Bryson said. “She has amazing breasts. They deserve to be caressed.” “How about if I lie down and she climbs on top of me?” He looked at the general as he added, “That’s how she needs to be if we’re all going to fuck her.” Lust stabbed through Nehalem as she faced the inevitable end. She wasn’t just going to fuck three men. Three men were going to fuck her at the same time! While her husband watched… “Go ahead,” Bryson said. “I’m getting restless.” Tyler moved to one corner of the bed. Spreading out on his back, he kept his side aligned with the edge of the mattress and his legs bent, feet on the floor. His cock arched away from his belly, the hard column of flesh ready to take her for a ride. Nehalem climbed on top of him. He’d left just enough room for her knee between his hip and the edge of the bed. With Eric beside her and Jon behind, Nehalem guided Tyler’s cock toward her entrance. Bryson stood and moved his chair to the far side of the bed so he had a clear view of everyone. Nehalem rubbed the head of Tyler’s cock against her clit, needing to prolong the moment, knowing her husband was watching every move she made. Jon cupped one breast while Eric caressed the other. Tyler steadied her hips and watched her tease herself with his cock. Anticipation built, stealing her breath and launching tingles up and down her spine. “Put it inside you,” Bryson ordered. “I want to watch it disappear.”
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All too happy to oblige him, Nehalem positioned Tyler at her vaginal opening and slowly sank onto his hard length. She watched Bryson watching her, drunk on the knowledge that he couldn’t look away. His nostrils flared and a tendon jumped above his jaw. Feminine power washed over her in tantalizing waves. They wanted her, all four of them craved her body and the pleasure she could give them. She raised and lowered her hips, moving smoothly on Tyler’s cock. Leaning forward, she brought her nipple to his mouth. He latched on with a vengeance, dragging a sharp cry from her throat. Eric took advantage of her position and rubbed his cock against her lips. She grasped him with one hand and sucked him into her mouth. Bryson moved in her peripheral vision. He stood now, near the head of the bed, his dark eyes ravenous. “Fuck her ass.” Bryson’s voice was harsh and anxious. “Fill her so full she screams.” Panic tore through her with icy talons. She wasn’t ready for that. Did Jon even have some sort of lubricant? Max had always been so careful to— Cool, slick fingers pushed into her ass, driving back her panic. She retreated to the tip of Eric’s cock and looked at Bryson. He’d unfastened the front of his pants and his hand slid up and down. The tail of his shirt covered his cock. Still, there was no mistaking the motion. She held Tyler deep inside her while Jon carefully prepared her ass. Eric reached beneath her and pinched her nipple, drawing her attention to him. “I was almost there. Why’d you stop?” “Let Jon get inside and we’ll fuck her together,” Tyler said, his voice passionroughened. Jon held her open with his hands and slowly drove his cock up her ass. Nehalem groaned around Eric’s shaft as her body stretched and adjusted. Hands slid over her naked body, squeezing and pinching, urging her on. She took a deep breath and pushed up with her legs, drawing her body along Tyler’s length. Mirroring her movement, Eric and Jon pulled back until they were barely inside her. Tyler grasped her hips and pulled her down as Eric and Jon thrust in. She shuddered, overwhelmed by exquisite fullness and raw need. They moved together, pulling out slowly and driving in fast. Bryson walked around the bed, observing the spectacle from every angle. His cock bobbed behind his loosened shirt, but he’d stopped stroking himself. His attention was focused entirely on his wife and the three men fucking her. Sensations pelted her from every side. She felt wild and restless, utterly sexual. Her jaw ached and her pussy clenched, tightening her ass in the process. The mutants moved faster and deeper. She cried out softly with each forceful drive. Energy flowed into her, tingling, sizzling and stinging. She absorbed it greedily, saturating herself with their power. Tyler arched off the bed, ramming his entire length into her pussy while Jon pounded into her ass. Eric came first. He held her face between his hands and drove to the back of her mouth, his cum spurting in hot jets down her throat. She swallowed and sucked, 71
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determined to capture every drop. He stumbled back, drawing his cock out of her mouth. She focused on the other two men as an orgasm built within her. Their thickness and demand drove her higher, pushing the limits of her consciousness. She tossed her head and looked at Bryson. He was masturbating again. Lust contorted his features as he frantically worked his cock. Tyler grasped her hips and impaled her one last time. His cock bucked, releasing his seed in rhythmic spurts. She was half a second behind him, the deep spasms of her climax taking Jon with her. They groaned and shuddered, reveling in the stark pleasure. Bryson’s hand stopped sliding and squeezed. Cum streamed from his cock, splattering the bed precariously close to Tyler’s face. The general moaned, shaking and pulling until every last drop had been dispelled. “Do you feel better, my dear?” He tucked his cock away and righted his clothing. “Or should we ask your mutant stud to send you another set of his friends?” Still breathless and dizzy, it took Nehalem a moment to reply. “You know me, love. I’m never satisfied.”
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Chapter Six So tell me, Dr. Myer. What are you cooking in your lab? Fane’s question echoed through Cassie’s mind as she scrambled for an answer. How much did he already know about her current project? Was he testing her truthfulness? She gave herself a mental shake. Why the hell should she care if he caught her in a lie? She was his prisoner! “What’s the nature of your most recent project?” he prompted when she didn’t immediately respond. “I work on a lot of projects. Which one do you mean?” She tugged against his hold on her wrist, but he refused to let go. Her index finger tingled and she glanced at the transfer tube. She really needed to rest the system before someone ended up dead. She hadn’t anticipated this complication when she’d written the program. He scooted forward and trapped her knees between his. “The security protocols surrounding your current project are far more sophisticated than anything you’ve utilized before. What are you hiding?” “How do you know what my security protocols are unless you’ve tried to bypass them?” She stopped resisting, though her posture remained stiff and defiant. “It’s my job to protect my people. If that means snooping through secured files from time to time, I can live with that.” Sincerity and commitment combined in a startling spike of emotion. She meticulously suppressed her reaction to the mental jab, unwilling to reveal how clearly she was sensing his feelings. Nothing was more important to him than the people depending on him. She understood his dedication, even envied those he willingly protected. But she was not one of his people. She was a means to an end. “And I see no reason to volunteer anything.” Her voice sounded oddly breathless, so she made her tone more forceful as she said, “I’m only cooperating to earn my freedom.” Pinching off his emotions again, Fane looked into her eyes. “Then we’ll consider your explanation task number two.” “Do you want this explanation or would you rather I determine the compatibility of human and Stilox DNA? If I do both, you’re out of tasks.” Mal Ton chuckled, obviously following their exchange. “Sounds like you need to renegotiate.” Fane shot him a sidelong glare. You’re not helping. She’s your prisoner. Why bother with this elaborate barter system? You should be all the motivation she needs.
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Cassie struggled with her expression. Mal Ton’s arrogance shouldn’t have surprised her, but the urge to slap him made her palm itch. Technically she’s my wife, not my prisoner. Fane’s thumb brushed across the pulse point in her wrist, back and forth in a featherlight caress. She watched him closely. Did he have any idea she could hear his thoughts? Why did you agree to the social alliance? Mal Ton continued. Is it really easier on your conscience to manipulate your wife than seduce your prisoner? I don’t intend to manipulate her. Call it what you like. She has information we need and it’s your job to access it. With a frustrated sigh, Fane released her hand and leaned back in his chair. “It’s rude to talk behind someone’s back.” Her tone was softly mocking. “Especially when they’re sitting right in front of you.” Get her good and distracted and I’ll scan her mind, Mal Ton offered. I’m not sure I want you in her mind. Then let me distract her while you scan. Cassie gasped and Mal Ton laughed. “I told you the link was interactive.” He shot Fane a triumphant glance before returning his attention to the control console. “The only reason for her to propose a social alliance was if she knew what you had planned.” “Is he right?” Fane asked her directly. “Have you been able to hear my thoughts since I established the connection?” There was no reason to lie. His knowledge of her ability minimized her best advantage. Still, she didn’t need to volunteer the details. “Yes.” “Is it just my thoughts or can you sense my emotions too?” A challenging smile was her only reply. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Fane persisted, frustration thinning his sensual lips. “You don’t reveal a potential advantage to the enemy,” Mal Ton said without turning around. “Any foot soldier can tell you that.” Without responding to Mal Ton’s assessment, Fane stood and grasped the back of her chair. He loomed over her, his features tense and menacing. She tried not to cower as her heartbeat sped and fear dried her mouth. He’d promised not to hurt her, vowed to protect her, but they were enemies. “Did your nanites trigger latent powers or have you found a way to synthesize our abilities?” Suspicion made his tone harsh, so she answered honestly. “All my powers are natural. All the nanites do is amplify what nature gave me.” Mutant light ignited within his eyes, casting a warm glow across her face. “Look at me.” Like a sweet temptation, she felt compelled to obey. Her nanites pushed back the compulsion, but Fane intensified the mystic lure. She raised her gaze to his and 74
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whimpered. Her eyes tingled and the air around her stirred, pressing her into the chair, holding her motionless while he flowed into her mind. Struggling within the silken thrall, she filled her mind with equations and trivial facts. He wasn’t touching her, but every molecule of her body felt him. She didn’t understand the sensations, could only experience the electric swirl. He surrounded her, swept into her, through her and around her. “Show me.” The whisper-soft command made her shiver while her spirit rebelled. She would not surrender control! Yet she was powerless to resist, utterly helpless against the mystic current. Her mind opened, accepting his presence as readily as her body surrendered to his touch. Bitter resentment pulsed through her. She hated being helpless, hated him for demonstrating his power so ruthlessly. Then a question formed within her anger. Why wasn’t she afraid? He could snuff out her life without effort and yet she didn’t feel threatened. His mind waited, open and accessible. He wasn’t taking any more from her than he freely offered in return. Tentatively she ventured into his mind and the sheer scope of his being made her tremble. Pain and determination, frustration and fear, centuries of experience undulated all around her. “Know me.” His hands pressed against her cheeks as he knelt in front of her and covered her mouth with his. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the kiss and the unbelievable melding of their spirits. His lips moved across hers, his tongue gently teasing. He soothed her. She relaxed and the exchange flowed more freely. Images passed through her mind, imparting information with echoes of emotion. Fane in his youth, his heart open and joyous, thrilled by the possibilities of life. Love, innocent and pure, warmed Cassie as she watched Fane court his wife. Then the tranquil happiness was shattered by terror and fury more bitter than anything Cassie had experienced before. She trembled and moaned, instinctively drawing back from the pain. The memory stream sped and images rained down upon her, stinging her mind like sparks. Endless years of drudgery and pain, muted by helplessness. Sense passed in a blur of resignation. Nothing can change the past. Fane’s voice sliced through the memories, drawing her back toward the present. Consuming passion washed over her in dizzying waves. Cassie saw her naked body entwined with Fane’s, easily recognizing the scene. Three years ago, the second time they made love. But this was different. She sensed the resentment threaded through his pleasure. I knew I had to leave you.
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They were in her apartment now. He stood beside her bed, staring down at her still form. He longed for her, needed her yet responsibilities pressed in, oppressive and cloying. Faces flickered, eyes filled with hope and expectation, alight with a sense of awe. His people, the forgotten souls in his underground kingdom. With a cry of utter frustration, he turned from the bedroom and began his search of her apartment. Codes, access codes shrouded in death—Nicho’s death. Cassie shuddered and propelled herself onward, speeding through the memory. Fane sat at an access terminal, scrolling through a message index. Her father’s messages, accessed with the stolen codes. Fane spotted a familiar name—a well-known assassin—and opened the message. Friday night. Make it look like a break-in. She’ll be at the opera. Cassie fought against the memory as the pieces snapped into place. Max might have been deluded, but he’d told her the truth. Her father had ordered the hit on Nicho. The realization sank into her mind, bitterly cold and inescapable. Another flurry of images swept across her mind, pain-contorted faces, shattered lives, endless suffering. And her father’s influence threaded through each like a poisonous cord. So much suffering. So many lives destroyed in his quest for power. Stop! Make it stop! She writhed, the mystic net intolerable, her being inundated. Fane slowed the current, narrowing the stream to a tight, manageable trickle. He eased out of her mind as she rushed from his, desperate to escape the suffering. She collapsed in her seat, tears stinging her eyes, desolate and shaking. “Why would he… It can’t be true. It just can’t.” Fane gathered her hands in his, concern and compassion shining in his eyes. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you. No matter how much I prepared you, I knew it would hurt like hell.” He kissed her knuckles, mutant light fading from his eyes. “I can’t deal with this right now.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “My God, how do you live with all that pain?” “I’ve had a long time to accept my past. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you.” “My father is responsible for Nicho’s death.” She had to say the words out loud, to acknowledge the fact so she could begin to process the emotions. “Your father is responsible for a lot of things,” Mal Ton muttered. Fane shot him a warning glare. “I suspect you only know your father as well as he wanted you to know him.” “I feel like such a fool.” One tear escaped and then another. Had her entire life been built on lies? Nicho was a spy, Fane had seduced her for the access codes and her father was…utterly corrupt. With steely determination she batted away the tears. If she released her emotions right now, she would never stop crying. “Did you break the link?” she asked Fane, desperately needing a distraction. “I can’t feel you anymore.” A soft smile curved his lips. “I’m still there, love. The connection is just more focused now, less intrusive.” 76
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Fatigue washed over her, a soul-deep weariness her stubborn nature couldn’t combat. “Why do I feel so sleepy?” She could hardly keep her eyes open. “Blending can be exhausting for an untrained mind. You experienced my entire life in less than a minute. Don’t fight it. Get some sleep. We’re still a long way from Protaria.” She didn’t think to question the suggestion as he helped her adjust her seat. She snuggled into the slight recline and closed her eyes. “What did you discover?” Mal Ton asked a few minutes later. Fane brushed his fingertips along the side of her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She was so beautiful, so…innocent. She might be surrounded by deceit and depravity, but her spirit remained pure. “We know more about her father than she does.” “She probably doesn’t want to know. Denial is a common survival mechanism.” “It’s more than that. Howyn intentionally fragments all his projects. Separate teams work on various elements and only a select few are aware of the final purpose. Cassie has never been included in the select few. He’s always kept her isolated, or rather insulated, from the full picture.” “Dose he doubt her loyalty?” It wasn’t a simple question. He’d sensed a deep-seated conflict in Cassie, but he wasn’t sure if she understood the cause. She had serious doubts about her father, yet she had never felt strongly enough to openly challenge him. “He told her the practice protects her, that it decreases the chance of her being kidnapped or interrogated.” As he spoke, Fane pulled her safety restraints around her torso and fastened them in the middle of her chest. Mal Ton shook his head. “I guess Max didn’t get the memo.” “Her current project is like all the others.” He returned to his seat beside Mal Ton and pivoted to face the main viewscreen. “She’s programming nanites to absorb and amplify psychic energy, but she isn’t sure what the nanites will power once they’re charged.” “Psychic energy? As in, the sort of energy we produce after surviving mutation?” Fane nodded. “The very same.” “I don’t like the sound of that,” Mal Ton muttered. “She’s uneasy about her father’s intentions too, but he insists it’s safer if she doesn’t know the details.” Mal Ton’s teal gaze lingered on Cassie for a long moment before he returned his attention to the control console. “Did you put her to sleep or was she worn out by the memory transfer?”
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“A little of both. I’d rather she be unaware when we enter the Underground. She’s less likely to take off if she doesn’t realize how close she’ll be to home.” “That’s presuming she doesn’t know the location of the Underground already.” “She doesn’t. I checked.” “Can we trust her?” Mal Ton turned toward Fane as he folded his arms over his chest. “And more importantly, how long do you intend to keep her? This barter system might fool her, but I’ve seen the way you look at her. You have no intention of letting her go.” Fane smiled, unable to hide his reaction. “My intentions toward Cassandra are none of your business.” “If you say so.”
***** Cassie floated in velvet tranquility. Weightless and languid, she drifted through dreams and memories, unable to distinguish one from the other. She was intrigued by the images, yet they held no real power over her. If she was impressed by what she saw, she lingered. If not, she simply turned away. Her lab appeared within her mind, the image detailed and glaring. She shook her head and the image disintegrated like spun sugar beneath a sudden rain. She’d squandered too much of her life surrounded by sterile equipment and speculation. This was the last place she wanted to visit during this unusual dream. And this had to be a dream. There was no other explanation for what she was experiencing. Still, she’d never felt anything quite like it. All of her senses were heightened and she could control her movements and thoughts. She pictured sunlight and golden radiance erupted around her. The brilliance blinded her and warmed her skin. The combination of imagination and omnipotence sent shivers racing along her nerve endings and excitement zipping into the center of her chest. A distant echo of unrest pinged within her mind. Something had upset her, something painful and ominous. Why couldn’t she remember? She didn’t want to remember! It was so peaceful here. Launching herself skyward, she left the distinct clutter of Sanctum behind. Thoughts of expectations and obligations peeled off her in layers, reshaping and liberating her. The wind caressed her body and whipped her hair across her face. She didn’t know where she was going, but it didn’t matter. She was exhilarated, soaring, spinning—free. Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, drawing her back against a solid chest. Fane. She knew the warm spice of his scent and the shape of his hands. His touch was firm without hurting, capable and sure. His arms sheltered and protected. She was safe with Fane, cherished. Cherished? What an odd word to attribute to an enemy.
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A smile bowed her lips and she rested her head against his shoulder. They might have been born on opposite sides of the conflict, but Fane was not her enemy. He would caress and tease, arouse her slowly until she screamed in release. And she would welcome each demanding kiss, revel in passion’s onslaught. “Are you dreaming too?” she asked without turning around. “Does this feel like a dream?” Mist swirled around them, blurring their surroundings, creating a surreal pocket where only they existed. “I know I’m not awake, but I…I don’t know what this is.” “Does it matter? You’re in my arms and you’re safe. Let that be enough for a while.” The dizzying rush slowed and she turned within the circle of his arms. “I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want you.” “But you do?” he asked hopefully. Passion and tenderness made his eyes shine like polished peridot. His lips parted and curved, awaiting the smallest encouragement to begin their sensual campaign. “You’ve enchanted me,” she whispered, “made me helpless against your appeal.” He chuckled and leaned in, brushing her temple with a light kiss. “What did you expect from a sorcerer?” His arms tightened, pressing her snugly against his chest and groin. “I can’t get enough of you.” He rolled his hips, drawing her attention to his growing erection. “As soon as I find release inside you, my love, I want you all over again.” His hands cupped her ass and drew her to her toes. He aligned her mound with his shaft and rubbed against her, skin on skin. She groaned then shivered violently as heated tingles cascaded through her body. “Why can’t I resist you? I shouldn’t feel this way.” He framed her face with his hands, all playfulness gone. “I am not creating these feelings, Cassandra. My pheromones were returned to normal a long time ago. And as for my Faundi skills, I would never use my power in that way. Making a person willing is just as despicable as taking them against their will. You can tease me about it, if it makes you more comfortable with our attraction, but it’s important that you acknowledge the truth.” She dragged her gaze away from his earnest expression, not yet ready to surrender completely. “Where are we? What is this place?” “There are many terms for where we are. Some call this astral perception or a metaphysical plane. You’re aware, but not awake. Think of it as a waking dream.” She’d basically come to the same conclusion, so his explanation didn’t seem as fantastical as she’d expected it to seem. “Why did you bring me here?” The answer to that pressed against her belly. They were naked and he was aroused. No, they were both aroused. “I didn’t want Mal Ton to watch us fuck,” he whispered the words against her lips.
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Desire spiraled through her chest and lodged between her thighs, yet reality intruded, an unwanted reminder of her true circumstance. They were on their way to Protaria and she was his prisoner. Her body sagged against one of the ship’s highbacked seats, safety restraints holding her in place. Fane pinched her ass, drawing her deeper into the waking dream. “Would you rather entertain Mal Ton? I don’t think he’d mind.” “No.” She focused on her desire for Fane, immersing herself in the illusion. Their time together had always been stolen, secretive. Why should this be any different? “I don’t want to share this with anyone.” “Then you admit you want me?” It wasn’t a challenge, more like a crossroads. His gaze reflected the depth of his longing and the devotion he yearned to bestow upon her. A responding ache pulsed within her, making her hunger and burn. All she had to do was accept him, take the first step and they would be fulfilled. “I’ve always wanted you,” she admitted with a sigh. “I wanted you the first time I saw you and I want you now.” This was a dream. Why shouldn’t they indulge their need for each other? No one was harmed by their love. Their love? Shit! She’d done it again, attributed them with emotions far deeper than lust. He smiled, obviously pleased by her response. If he heard her mental ramblings, he didn’t react to them. “Where shall we go? Have you ever seen the ocean?” “In vids, not in person.” “Then hold on tight.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes. They were propelled through space, speeding like a comet across the sky. His mouth found hers, the kiss demanding and deep. She curled her tongue around his and sifted his hair with her fingers. His hands caressed her back and squeezed her bottom though his embrace remained strong. The momentum slowed then stilled, and her toes touched something coarse and…sandy! She opened her eyes and gasped. A strip of white beach stretched off to her left and right. In front of her churned an ocean, vibrant blue with cresting waves and shimmering currents. A salty tang drifted on the air as it wafted across her face and played through her hair. She dug her toes into the sand and spread her arms, lost in wonder. “This is amazing.” She took a deep breath and looked at Fane. “Where are we?” “Not where. When. This is Stilox before the war.” Sadness burst within her, blurring her vision with unshed tears. The war, her father’s betrayal and all the suffering crashed down upon her with punishing force. She covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head, unable to speak.
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“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” He caught her tears as they escaped with the sweep of her lashes. “I didn’t bring you here to upset you. I wanted to share the beauty of this memory. When I think of Stilox, this is how I see it.” He pulled her into his arms and she buried her face against the warmth of his throat. “How can I ever make things right again?” Grief and shame took turns pelting her composure. “So many have lost so much.” She sobbed. “And Father…” Easing her back, he looked into her eyes. “You are not your father. You are only responsible for your actions and the decisions you make now that you know the truth.” “I’ve had suspicions for years. I should have been more diligent, should have been less selfish. I’m so ashamed and so angry.” A violent shudder illustrated the depth of her emotions. “That’s understandable. But give yourself a break. You can’t reshape the course of history in the blink of an eye. We have to take each day as it comes and make the most of each opportunity.” “I want to kill him, yet I want to wake up and find this was all a bad dream.” “Fight or flight. Basic survival instincts.” He caressed her damp cheek with the back of his hand. “The shock will subside and the pain will ease. We have plenty of time to plan a new strategy.” She turned and faced the ocean, unconcerned with her nudity. A cool breeze caressed her skin and Fane’s strong arms settled around her waist. The rolling rhythm of the water soothed her, eased the emotional trauma to the back of her mind. He rubbed his cheek against her hair, his arms secure without constricting. His body warmed her skin and stirred an electric awareness. The setting was so romantic and her emotions were so raw. She needed to lose herself in the moment, to feel something other than sorrow. Blinking away the rest of her tears, she slowly rotated within the circle of his arms. “I want to touch you,” she whispered. “I need to drive back the pain.” He brushed his lips over hers, not a kiss really, just a teasing glimpse of the pleasures to come. “I’ll help any way I can.” She looped her arms around his neck and pressed her breasts against his chest. “You like to restrain me and I never get to enjoy you with my hands.” She whispered the words against his parted lips. He chuckled and stepped back, lowering his arms to his sides. “I exist for your enjoyment. Touch me, taste me, do anything you like.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, thrilled by his uncharacteristic passivity. Just looking at his naked body built the tension between her thighs, but there was no telling how long his mood would last. She splayed her fingers against his chest, absorbing the heat and smoothness of his skin. Was his chest naturally hairless or had he permanently removed it at some point in the past? She tried to remember if he’d possessed chest hair when they first met, but the detail remained elusive.
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Another deep chuckle escaped his throat. “You never stop thinking, do you? Your curious mind never slows down.” Her gaze returned to his face. “I thought you couldn’t read my mind any longer.” His smile was unrepentant. “I narrowed the scope of our link so it would be harder to access. I’ve been at this a little longer than you have, sweetheart. The effort for me is keeping other people’s thoughts out of my mind.” “Can you absorb anyone’s memories, or was our exchange an extension of our link?” “It’s called blending and I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else. As you saw, it’s a true exchange. My mind is open and vulnerable for as long as I’m scanning the other person.” She accepted the explanation with a nod and returned to her exploration. His entire body was corded with tight, highly defined muscles. She worked her way up one arm, across his shoulders and down the other. His biceps flexed beneath her fingers, his hands tightly fisted. One glance at his groin explained the cause of his tension. His cock arched away from his body, fully erect and flushed. Ignoring his obvious need, she circled behind him. Pressing her body against his back, she stroked up and down his torso, her hands moving ever closer to the proof of his desire. He shifted against her. His ass clenched then released. Easing back, she traced his spine, dipping her fingers into the cleft between his cheeks before squeezing the tight mounds with both hands. His tattoo skimmed the lower curve of his ass before resting its head on his belly, below his right hipbone. Moving to his side, she traced the forked tongue protruding from its mouth. “How long have you had this?” She’d never thought to ask before, having no idea how long he’d lived. “I received it during the ceremony establishing me as a Faundi defender, a sort of shaman.” “Does it have specific meaning or does it simply mark your rank among your people.” “Enduring the pain was a rite of passage, but the design itself is also important. Why don’t I explain all about it after we’ve taken care of this?” He tightened his abdominal muscles and his cock bobbed, drawing her attention away from his tattoo. “All right, but I won’t forget to ask you. I really want to know.” “And I really want to fuck you.” His eyes grew dark and stormy. “Are you finished touching me?” “Not even close.” She knelt in the sand in front of him and returned to the tattoo. Following its undulating body, she caressed her way up his right leg. She paused at his groin to lick a drop of pre-cum off the tip of his cock then wound her way down his other leg. “Are you trying to kill me?” He produced a sound half laugh and half moan.
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“Anticipation makes the pleasure stronger.” She grinned up at him and finally curved her fingers around his shaft. “Haven’t you demonstrated that fact often enough with me?” “This is revenge?” “Revenge would be if I didn’t let you come.” She formed a firm circle with her fingers and pumped his cock. “I want you to come. In fact, I won’t stop until you do.” Not giving him time to reply, she sucked his cock head into her mouth, swirling over the velvety flesh as her lips drew upon him. His head dropped back and he shuddered, emitting another throaty moan. His heat infused her mouth and his unique taste coated her tongue. She cradled his heavy sac in her free hand while she stroked him with the other. So often he’d demanded her surrender with the consuming skill of his mouth. She craved his taste and the power of knowing he’d lost control. His legs tensed and his hips rocked, driving his shaft deeper into her mouth. He reached for her head then fisted his hands, allowing her complete control. She licked and sucked, reveling in his surrender. He twitched against her tongue and his balls grew tight and lifted. Moving her hand to his hip, she used only her mouth now. Hot and hard, this was the seat of his virility yet also his most notable vulnerability. His trust thrilled her. She sucked harder and took him deeper. His hips moved faster as she let him fuck her mouth. Take me, my love. Don’t hold back. I am yours. She hadn’t intentionally sent her thoughts, but they were so much a part of what she was feeling, she didn’t regret the sentiment. He growled and framed her face with his hands, sliding the full length of her tongue with each quick stroke. “Good.” He gasped. “So damn good.” With one final lunge, he pushed to the back of her mouth and pumped his seed down her throat. Cassie swallowed and licked, eagerly accepting his essence as his pleasure blasted across their psychic link. Her pussy pulsed, echoing the spasms of his cock. Fane stayed in her mouth, savoring the heat and her selflessness. She looked up at him, eyes bright and warm while her tongue lazily swirled against his cock head. “Keep that up and I’ll make you do it all over again.” With an audible groan he dragged himself out of her mouth. She licked her lips and smiled. “I thought I ‘made’ you do it the first time.” He returned her smiled and swept his gaze along her naked body. “There are advantages to not restraining you.” “Glad you approve.” “Just don’t get used to it.” He swept her off her feet and placed her on her back in the sand. “I like to be on top.”
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“I don’t think it has anything to do with our position. You like to be in control.” “Damn right I do.” He grasped the back of her knees and spread her legs wide. Lowering his head between her thighs, he traced her slit with his tongue. “Mmm. So hot and creamy. I think you enjoyed tormenting me.” “I think you’re right.” He stretched out on his stomach and slipped his arms under her legs. Cupping her breasts with both hands, he leisurely licked her pussy. Her scent enticed him, urged him to fuck her with his tongue. He ignored the instinct and explored her delicate folds, savoring her taste and the silky softness of her flesh. She finger-combed his hair and canted her hips, her breasts quivering beneath his fingers. Her nipples beaded against his palms, begging for direct stimulation. Sweeping up to her clit, he lashed the puffy nub as his fingers fastened onto her nipples. He circled her clit and rolled her nipples, his touch growing stronger with each cycle. She squirmed and moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair. Her taste inflamed him and her restlessness demanded he take control. He maneuvered her hands above her head with a mental command and held them there with a second compulsion. She gasped, wiggling as his mouth became more demanding. He tweaked her nipples in farewell then moved his hands between her thighs, holding her open and fully accessible. Her head tossed against the sand and her breasts jiggled with each frantic breath. He admired the sight for a moment then returned to the treasure awaiting his kiss. Dragging his tongue from her anus to her clit, he claimed her sex with slow, sustained caresses. “Mine,” he murmured, and she didn’t object. He thrust his tongue deep into her cunt, savoring the heat and the firm grasp of her inner muscles. “Yours,” she whispered. The unexpected offer astounded him. She’d surrendered her body without reservation, but this was a new level of submission. His lips moved against her folds as his tongue darted in and out. He wanted all of her, every opening, all she had to give. But he wouldn’t rush her, would never push her toward something she didn’t want. “I want it.” He gasped and lifted his face from between her legs. Without the distraction of her silky flesh, he could clearly sense her in his mind. Are you sure? There’s no hurry. We have the rest of our lives to explore. It seemed more intimate to speak mind to mind. Fuck my ass. I trust you to make it good. The statement punched into his gut and made his heart forget a beat. She trusted him! At least surrounded by metaphysical unreality. It was a start, an important step toward the sort of bond he wanted more than anything. You won’t regret it. He paused to kiss her mouth before returning to her pussy. With tender licks and careful sucks, he took her to the edge of orgasm again and again.
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“And you wonder why I made you wait!” she cried as he pulled her back for the third time. Conjuring a lubricant more dependable than her cream, he pushed his middle finger past the tight muscular collar guarding her virgin opening. “How does that feel?” “Strange but good. We’ve done this much before.” He smiled and added a second finger. “Are you in a hurry to feel my cock stretching you?” “Yes.” She pushed up, driving her body onto his fingers. Her enthusiasm pushed him over the edge. He rolled her hips to the side and bent her knees. “Look at me, love. Look into my eyes as I fill you.” Their gazes locked and he positioned himself against her. “Thank you.” He drove into her with slow, firm pressure. Her eyes widened and her breath hitched. Her tight sphincter clamped around him for a moment, driving the breath from his lungs. She pushed out and he slid deeper and then deeper still. They exhaled together, their hearts beating in time. Slipping his hand between her thighs, he teased her clit and her vaginal opening. She gradually relaxed, taking more of him into her hot rear passage. He conjured more lube before he attempted to move, refusing to cause her so much as a sting. She moaned as he pulled back and sighed when he pushed back in. “How’s that?” He slid smoothly in and out, circling her clit with the same slow rhythm. “Nice but…” She tucked her knees tight against her chest and rolled over. He could either move with her or pull out, so he carefully followed her lead. She settled on her hands and knees then thrust back against him, forcing his entire length into her ass. “Oh yes.” She shivered. “Much better.” Understanding her not-so-subtle hint, he grasped her hips and fucked her as he had longed to for so long. She felt incredibly tight and unbelievably hot and he was famished. All attempts at tenderness melted away beneath the blaze of their consuming desire. She thrust out against him, taking him as aggressively as he took her. Her shoulder dipped and she turned her head to one side as she reached between her legs and rubbed her clit. She was wild and unabashedly sexual, his match in every way. He threw back his head and roared, releasing his savage nature. Faster and harder he thrust, taking her more fiercely than he had intended. She squeezed him and cried out sharply, her radiant pleasure surging into his mind. He drove his entire length into her eager body and came with a feral roar. Her ass contracted in rhythmic spasms, greedily milking his seed. He stroked her back and hips, waiting for her to recover her senses. She pushed her arms beneath her again and looked back at him. “Are you all right?” she asked with a saucy wink, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
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“Oh, I think I’ll survive. How about you?” “I have no idea why we never did that before.” “Because in reality it’s a little more complicated. It can be just as amazing, but we’ll have to take it slow.” She looked around, her gaze somewhat muddled. “This is so real. I’d forgotten it isn’t…well, real.” “It’s just a different sort of real.” He carefully drew out of her body and turned her around. He kissed her gently then held her, savoring the simple pleasure of having her in his arms. “You promised to tell me about your tattoo,” she reminded. “Why are you so curious?” “I know it’s important to you and I suspect it will give me an insight into what makes you tick.” He ran his hand from her shoulder to her breast and lightly brushed her nipple. “I’d think what makes me tick would be obvious by now.” “You’re dodging the question, which only makes me more curious.” She was right and it annoyed him. The design was sacred, the meaning intensely personal. Not even Mal Ton understood the significance of his tattoo. “In preparation for the ceremony each defender went on a vision walk with the tribe’s seer. She was ancient and powerful, living more often in the spirit world than in our own. The creature appeared to me there, in the world beyond. It is my guardian, my pantauk, the keeper of my soul. The lower wings represent the past, events that influence me but cannot be changed. The upper wings represent balance. One is the present and the other the future. Actions taken in the present affect what unfolds in the future, so each decision is important, each action relevant.” “It’s beautiful. I’ve always liked the design. Are the tattoos always created on the right leg or is there a meaning to its location as well?” He’d hoped his basic explanation would satisfy her curiosity. He should have realized she’d sense his omission. His mate was very perceptive. “The location is as unique as the design. My pantauk continually struggles to keep me grounded. That’s why it’s drawn on my leg. The position of its head is also intentional. The seer warned me that sex would play an unusually important role in my life. She told me great sorrow and great joy would spring from my loins.” He shuddered and turned his face away. “She was half right.” “You found no joy in what we just shared?” The hurt in her voice tore at his heart. Turning back to her, he brushed her cheek with his knuckles and managed to smile. “Joining my body with yours will always bring me joy, but the seer was referring to something more far-reaching, something prophetic.” “Then the great joy just hasn’t happened yet.”
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“I can’t imagine anything I could do that would balance the loss spread through…” “Your body allowed the Stilox scientists to develop the counteragent. Countless lives were saved because of you.” “As the pantauk’s wings remind me, the past cannot be changed.” Fane shook away the gloom and stared out over the cresting waves. “Our surreal break is just about over. We’re starting our descent toward Protaria. I better go.” “What do you mean you better go? Aren’t I coming with you?” “I’ll guide you back to the waking world once we’ve reached the Underground.” He kissed her brow and nodded toward the ocean. “Relax and enjoy the scenery.”
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Chapter Seven Smoke tickled Cassie’s nostrils, making her nose twitch. The scent was pleasant, inviting, until her mind registered the potential threat. Fire! Something was on fire. She shook away the lassitude and sat up with a gasp. Blinking repeatedly, she focused through the gloom. Flames crackled and danced in a stone fireplace beside the sofa on which she’d been laid. Relief rushed through her and she released her pent-up breath. Firelight illuminated the room surrounding her, drawing her gaze to the rustic beams supporting the upper level, or levels. Where was she? The room was massive. She was unable to see details beyond the circle of firelight, but a staircase nestled against one wall and hallways branched off in several directions. “Welcome back.” She whipped her head around as Mal Ton stepped out of the shadows. Had he been there all along? “Where’s Fane? What is this place?” “Fane went to check on Sarah. He’ll be back in a few minutes. And this is the Mutant Underground.” “How long was I out? What time is it?” “About four hours and I’m not sure. Late afternoon—ish.” She’d been kidnapped two days before or was it three? Everything had run together in her mind. Stilox, the rebel headquarters and the metaphysical plane. How was she supposed to keep it all straight? The details were less important than her current situation. She looked around again. This was Fane’s domain, his refuge from the rest of the world. The building looked ancient, long abandoned, or was that a trick of the firelight? “What did this place use to be?” Mal Ton folded his arms across his brawny chest and strolled toward the fireplace. His movements were smooth and rolling, defined by casual power and confidence. “Once upon a time this was a fashionable hotel. Dignitaries and royalty from all over the star system vied for the privilege of staying in these rooms.” She admired his rugged profile as he stared into the flames. Though his posture appeared relaxed, his sharp gaze and the tension in his shoulders revealed his wariness. “You don’t ever let your guard down, do you?” “I’ve watched too many of my friends die when they relaxed for just a moment.” “I’m sorry.”
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He looked at her, his teal gaze penetrating and intense. “Why would you care? Most of them died before you were born.” “That doesn’t make their deaths any less tragic.” She swung her feet to the floor and scooted to the edge of the sofa. “Despite the fact I’m Protarian elite, I am capable of feeling compassion.” The flash of emotion receded and he inclined his head. “You’re right. You didn’t deserve the criticism. You’ve been remarkably civil.” “For a member of the elite?” The hint of a smile was his only reply. “Are you and Lorelle linked? Can you sense her thoughts and emotions?” “When mutants mate, it’s almost inevitable.” “Do you consider yourself a mutant or Stilox?” “My loyalty is to the Stilox resistance, but I am not ashamed to be called a mutant.” The elite often used the word mutant disparagingly. It was odd to hear people claim it as a badge of honor. “Can you sense Lorelle now? How is she doing?” “She’s in stasis, so I can’t sense her, but I spoke with Roark a short time ago. She’s stable, for now. I know you’ll do everything in your power to help her.” She smiled at the unexpected praise. “How can you be so sure?” “Fane trusts you. That’s good enough for me. Besides if you do anything to harm her in any way, I’ll hunt you down.” Now that was more like Mal Ton! “Who is Sarah and why did Fane feel the need to check on her?” His watchful stillness remained, the heat in his gaze smoldering. “Do you remember Sean, the specter who assisted in your rescue?” “The blond man who teleported into the office?” Mal Ton nodded. “Sarah is Sean’s sister.” “What’s wrong with her?” “Her mutation is becoming unstable.” His gaze returned to the leaping flames, anxiety etched upon his features. “We’ve all gone through it at one time or another. The cycle is different for everyone.” “What cycle do you mean?” “Those who survive the onset illness develop their initial mutation and then—” “Initial mutation? That’s inaccurate for a couple of reasons. First not everyone who is infected by the virus mutates and second the word ‘initial’ indicates that people mutate more than once.” Mal Ton leaned his shoulder against the wide mantelpiece and studied her. “The phrase might be inaccurate on Protaria where people have access to the best medical care money can buy. On Stilox and in the slums of Old Towne the situation is very different.”
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“Are you inferring every person infected by the virus suffers some form of mutation?” She pushed to her feet, unable to sit still. Countless conversations echoed through her mind, passionate debates she’d refused to consider seriously. “There was no inference in my statement,” Mal Ton stressed. “Only a small percentage of the mutations result in paranormal abilities, but every person without access to Protarian treatments is irreversibly changed by the virus.” Allen Lansky, her occasional lab partner, would be so pleased to learn his theories were correct. Allen had insisted the mutations were far more widespread than the Protarian government was willing to admit. His evidence had been dismissed and his theories disregarded, irrevocably damaging his professional reputation. Reeling from the casual revelation, she chose her words carefully. “You mentioned a cycle of destabilization. What does that mean?” “For most of us it happens every seven years. It’s like a disease going in and out of remission. While the mutation is in remission the person’s abilities remain the same and their health is stable.” “What happens when the mutation becomes active again?” She didn’t really need to ask. The resurgence of any disease was often more virulent than the onset illness. “Each case is different. The person can develop new abilities, their existing abilities can become significantly stronger or they can simply…succumb. There’s no way to predict the outcome.” He might have been reading one of Allen’s reports, his description was so similar. Nausea rolled through her, fueled by shame and regret. “There’s no treatment? Each person just endures the changes and hopes for the best?” “Andrea engineered a counteragent that has been helpful in some cases. Fane responded to the formula incredibly well.” He glanced at her as he added. “Sarah isn’t so fortunate. We don’t know what else to do for her.” The pain in his expression clawed at Cassie’s heart. Mal Ton and Fane had watched this cycle for centuries, helpless to change the outcome despite their preternatural abilities. It was amazing they could still feel anything at all. “Is there anything I can do?” Her mouth was so dry she struggled to form the question. “You tell me. Sarah barely survived the onset illness. The mutation left her physically deformed but opened her mind to prophetic visions. Ostan, Fane’s physician, has done everything he can. Our strongest psychic healer has only been able to slow the mutation’s progress temporarily.” “May I see her scans?” “You’ll have to ask Fane.” Mal Ton shrugged, his nonchalance seeming a bit affected. “You’re in his territory now.”
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Fane returned a few minutes later, his angular features tense, gaze troubled. Seeing Cassie awake and standing, he offered her an anemic smile. “Welcome to my humble domain. I’ll try to make your stay as pleasant as possible.” “How is Sarah?” she asked as he stepped up beside her. He glanced at Mal Ton, displeasure obvious in his expression. “Why did you tell her about Sarah?” “I know Ostan said she’s stabilized, but I can barely sense her. Something has to be done soon or we’ll lose her.” Sensing Fane’s emotions seething beyond his mental shield, she insinuated herself into the budding argument. “I don’t know if there is anything I can do to help, but I’d be willing to look at her scans.” Fane paused and took a deep breath, composing his expression. “I’m sure Ostan would welcome your input.” He guided her across the dimly lit room, Mal Ton following in their wake. A stone staircase descended into the bowels of the Underground. The lower levels were better maintained and equipped with technological advancements absent in the dilapidated hotel. Ostan greeted them as they entered the clinic. His bright auburn hair and pearlescent skin provided a stark contrast for his ink black eyes. The jutting angle of his cheekbones accented his wide brow, making his face appear triangular. Changed, irreversibly mutated, she was starting to understand what those words meant. The infirmary was far better equipped than Cassie expected but rather crude by Protarian standards. Sarah’s slight form had been draped with a sheet and an opaque veil obscured her face, leaving only her eyes visible. Mal Ton had mentioned a physical deformity, so Cassie focused on the readouts and displays. “Was her coma spontaneous or induced?” she asked Ostan. “I had no choice. There was continual synaptic activity emanating from the basal ganglia. The area began to calcify and—” “It wasn’t an accusation.” She smiled, hoping the gesture would lessen his defensiveness. “I’m just trying to understand the situation. When did she fall ill?” “She began complaining of headaches after the vision that led us to Lorelle,” Fane told her. “But her condition deteriorated rapidly over the past three days. Nothing we’ve tried has had any significant effect.” Cassie paused to study the information Ostan had supplied. He’d run every test she could think of and more. Despite her work with the counteragent, genetic mutation really wasn’t her area of expertise. “I can’t help her, but I know who can.” “Go on,” Fane prompted. “I worked with a man named Allen Lansky on the counteragent. Father generally isolates anyone working on one of his projects, but a new outbreak of the virus forced him to forgo the precaution. Allen discovered several things about the virus that Father
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didn’t want to hear. One of Allen’s discoveries was the mutation cycle Mal Ton described to me.” Fane looked at Mal Ton. “What do you know about Lansky?” “I’ve heard the name, but I don’t know much about him.” “Even after our joint project ended, we exchanged information, discreetly keeping each other informed on our respective progress. He’ll welcome the opportunity to prove his theories and I know I can trust him,” Cassie insisted. “Trust him to do what?” Fane narrowed his gaze. “Why would he help us?” “Allen’s hypothesis was met with disbelief and scorn. My father made sure of it. The discoveries my father wanted to keep, he attributed to me. The rest were rejected as folly. Allen’s become somewhat of a joke in the scientific community. He’ll see this as an opportunity to regain his reputation.” She intentionally avoided her own motivation. Allen came up through the ranks of the military until his achievements caught the eye of General Bryson. Allen’s combat background would come in handy when it came time to escape. The thought brought her mental tangent grinding to a halt. Did she still intend to escape? Her emotions were so convoluted she wasn’t sure how to see herself anymore. At the very least Allen’s presence would give her options. “If your father made Allen look like a fool,” Mal Ton persisted, “why does Allen still work for him?” “My father controls research and development on all of Protaria. Any scientist who wants to utilize their skills doesn’t really have a choice.” “Where can we find Allen Lansky?” Fane asked. “There’s no need for subterfuge. Just let me talk to him. I can convince him to help us.” Mal Ton laughed. “We haven’t lived this long by taking unnecessary chances. We’ll bring him here and you can explain what you need from him.” “I need my personal directory downloaded to a DPU.” Without an interface sequencer she was dead in the water, unable to alter the programming of anyone’s nanites, even her own. “You said you’ve been exchanging information with Lansky,” Fane reminded. “How much of your data does he possess?” She fidgeted, annoyed by Fane’s perceptiveness. “Most of it.” Her apartment building, lab and computer access points were doubtlessly under surveillance. “And will he have the application you need to reprogram nanites?” Fane asked. “Yes,” she grumbled as the opportunity to slip a message beyond the Underground faded from view. “Then we’ll make sure Allen brings his DPU. You’ll have what you need to get started and we won’t risk setting off any alarms along the way.”
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***** Nehalem absorbed the shuttle’s vibration and tried to relax. Her adventures in Old Towne Sanctum had become largely routine. She fucked whichever mutant her husband pointed out and used Bryson’s jealousy to keep herself focused. The mutants used her body while she drained their energy. It was an even exchange and it drove her husband crazy. Bryson still desired her despite his outward disdain, and she wouldn’t be satisfied until he lost control and acted upon that hunger. This mission was more intimidating than their trips to Old Towne. They were on their way to Saronta, a leisure moon with no political affiliation. A potential buyer for Chrysalis One had requested a demonstration. Howyn hadn’t wanted Bryson exposed, so he’d suggested she interact with the buyer instead. She couldn’t let herself analyze the situation or she’d be paralyzed by fear. Howyn might consider her expendable, but she’d reawakened Bryson’s interest—his interest in her body at least. She’d dressed carefully, her outfit far different from the provocative garments she usually wore. The impeccably tailored suit outlined her form without overtly displaying her assets. Without her sexual appeal, she felt vulnerable and powerless. And they were about to send her into the lion’s den. Crossing her legs with an audible sigh, she watched to see if any of Bryson’s men glanced her way. The pilot and navigator’s chairs faced forward while parallel benches provided seating for everyone else. The two soldiers in the cockpit were occupied with flying the ship, but the two flanking her husband should have been tempted by her understated sensuality. Instead they stared straight ahead, their features locked in expressionless masks. “If this goes off without a hitch, I’ll let you entertain us on the way back.” Bryson’s tone was dry and impatient, adding to her restlessness. “And if this doesn’t go off as planned?” If she’d had any other option, she would have refused Howyn outright. At least with the mutants she had some measure of control. “Pull yourself together,” Bryson snapped. “He’ll sense your fear.” “What person in their right mind wouldn’t be frightened by this situation?” “Opton is going with you and we’ll monitor every move you make. This is a business meeting, nothing more.” They arrived on Saronta a short time later, wending their way through casinos and pleasure resorts until they found their destination. She shifted the long strap on her shoulder bag so it crossed her chest and climbed down from the shuttle. Opton descended two steps behind her, a silent reminder that she wasn’t alone. Colored lights gleamed all around her, hypnotizing and surreal. She waved away the robotic bellhop and produced a haughty expression as she headed for the main entrance to the posh hotel.
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“Room 614.” Bryson’s voice arrived courtesy of a subdermal transceiver. The tiny device also allowed him to track her location and hear anything she said. “Got it.” She headed for the elevator bank across the spacious lobby and took the first available car to the sixth floor. A domestabot opened the door for Nehalem and motioned her inside the luxurious suite. Opton ducked into the room half a second before the robot shut the door in his face. Taking up a position along the perimeter wall, Opton assessed the scene without being intrusive. Bryson had warned Nehalem the buyer wasn’t humanoid. Still, the holoimage hadn’t captured the sheer foreignness of the creature awaiting her. Shae Milleepon sat on the sofa, his large round eyes staring at her with unblinking curiosity. Though his entire body was covered with amber fur, Shae wore a quilted robe of scarlet and gold. He was about the size of a five-year-old humanoid and his tendency to swing his feet…er, paws made it impossible not to notice that they didn’t reach the floor. His narrow head tilted one way and then the other like an animatronic teddy bear. How the hell was she supposed to take this seriously? A humanoid female knelt on the floor in front of the sofa, head bowed, hands folded neatly in her lap. She wore a robe similar in color and cut to Shae Milleepon’s. Straight white-blonde hair fell forward, concealing her features. “I speak for the Shae,” the girl said without looking up. “Address your comments to him and proceed as if I were not here.” “It’s nice to meet you, Shae Millepon.” Was Shae his title or his name? Bryson hadn’t coached her on protocol. Should she kneel or offer her hand? “Please be seated.” Shae motioned toward the chair facing him, but the words emanated from the girl. This was going to be interesting. Nehalem unfastened the strap on her bag before she took her seat. Before she could summon an appropriate opening for her presentation, Shae went on. “I was disappointed when Harold notified me that he was sending his agent. I was looking forward to meeting Harold face-to-face.” Harold didn’t exist, of course. Everything had been arranged so Bryson and Howyn would have complete deniability. “I hope our product will lessen your disappointment.” “I’m ready for the demonstration,” Shae said through the girl. “Please proceed.” “May I approach? You need to be able to see the display.” “Of course.” She opened her bag and dug out a DPU, unfolding the slim case as she crossed the floor. “This is a live feed of Chrysalis One.” She angled the display so Shae could see both screens. One side displayed a human female in casual civilian clothes, standing in the middle of a holding cell. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and her blue eyes were void of any emotion. “The weapon has been prepped and is ready for your order. Here is a list of the powers available for upload.” She pointed to the other screen. “Each ability is rated according to its demands on the system.
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Chrysalis One has a maximum capacity of twenty, so you are welcome to mix and match the abilities as long as the combined ratings never top twenty.” “Telekinesis is rated eight and empathy is rated four, so those two abilities can be uploaded at the same time?” “That only brings your total to twelve,” Nehalem said with an uneasy smile. “You could select a third skill as long as the rating is eight or less.” “Fascinating.” Shae hopped down from the sofa and stared at the list of abilities. “Upload telekinesis and physical strength. Both should be easy to demonstrate.” “All right.” Nehalem turned to the other screen, and said, “Chrysalis One, upload canisters four and six.” Chrysalis One moved across the small room, camera following her progress. A row of metal canisters were arranged in a rack on a table at her left. She twisted off one of the lids and thrust her hand into the gelatinous goo contained within the canister. “What is that substance?” Shae wanted to know. “Nonspecific biological… I’m not sure what it’s called. The gel holds energy in a sort of suspension until it’s needed. Once a Chrysalis has uploaded the ability, it only stays viable for seventy-two hours.” “And how long can it be maintained within the canisters?” “A year, perhaps longer.” Nehalem had been thrilled when Bryson filled her in on the project. It had been wonderful to be included in their plans. Even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling she had been thrown to the wolves—or the teddy bears in this case. They watched as Chrysalis One uploaded the other ability, sparks and illuminated lines streaking up her arm. “Please have the weapon demonstrate her strength,” Shae prompted. “Chrysalis One, disarm your guards and destroy their weapons.” With little outward effort, Chrysalis One rushed the men stationed on either side of the door. She threw one across the room and drove the other to the floor with a vicious shoulder cop from her forearm. She snatched his rifle from his limp hands and turned toward the camera, bending the bentine alloy with her bare hands. “Impressive,” Shae muttered as the second guard’s weapon received the same treatment. “Chrysalis One, use your mind to move one of your guards to the far corner.” Telekinetics was no more taxing than bending bentine alloy. Chrysalis One stood near the center of the room with her hands clasped behind her back. She looked at one guard and his unconscious body rose into the air. With a jerk of her head, she sent him soaring across the room. He landed in a heap in the far corner just as Nehalem had requested. “Do you have prototypes for any other species?”
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They had only just attained functionality with the human prototype. Apparently the teddy bear didn’t realize Project Chrysalis was brand new. “I don’t believe so, but I’ll check with Harold.” The room fell silent as Shae studied the list of abilities. “I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far. Your prototype performs as well as you promised—in a controlled setting. I still need to see her in a real-world situation.” “What did you have in mind?” “There is an exclusive gala in Sanctum at the end of the week. I hadn’t planned to attend, but I still have my invitation. This is the sort of situation where the Chrysalis will be most valuable, in my estimation. I’ll send the details to Harold.” “As you wish.” Nehalem quickly gathered her things and left the hotel room. “I am not cut out to be a spy,” she muttered as the elevator deposited her in the lobby. “You did fine. In fact, you did far better than I expected,” Bryson’s disembodied voice reassured. “Thanks a lot.” The shuttle was waiting for her on the departure ring as planned. Opton pulled open the hatch and she scurried into the relative safety of the small ship. “What use does a deranged teddy bear have for a biomechanical weapon that looks like a human female? The biggest advantage of Chrysalis One is that no one will see her coming.” “Shae is a middle man.” Bryton slid over on the bench, making room for Opton. “We’ll go through him until we’ve identified his customers then we’ll negotiate directly with them.” “That sounds dangerous.” After stuffing the shoulder bag in a wall compartment, she sat on the bench opposite Bryson and fastened her safety restrain straps. “What’s to keep his customers from telling Shae you’re trying to circumvent him?” “The Chrysalis.” His tone held absolute finality. “No one else has anything like it.” “Have the nanites been tested in any species other than human?” His mouth opened as if he would answer then he shook his head. “You already know far more about this project than you were meant to know.” The shuttle shimmied then banked sharply to the left. “Sorry,” the pilot muttered. “Soranta traffic is impossible.” Nehalem fidgeted on her bench, pleased with what she had accomplished yet curious about all Bryson refused to tell her. Did they intend to sell the nanites and canisters as a sort of do-it-yourself kit? If they sold Chrysalis One, how would they continue their research? So much of this made no sense to her. Perhaps Chrysalis One would be contracted out for individual missions, but how would they ensure her return once the mission was complete? Or did they expect to make enough off one sale to… No, they were in this for the long run. Chrysalis One was the beginning not the culmination of their vision.
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“Opton kept you safe during your first covert assignment,” Bryson said, drawing her back from her speculation. “Show him how grateful you are for his protection.” “That’s not necessary, sir,” the burly guard objected. Nehalem recognized the cruel hunger in Bryson’s gaze. He was ready for a performance. The more she resisted the better he would like it. Opton was handsome in a brutish, military fashion. His strong, young body was certainly appealing. Unfastening her safety straps with a rebellious clatter, she pushed to her feet and positioned herself in front of Opton. His dark eyes widened and an adorable flush formed on the crest of his cheekbones. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” She licked her lips and let her gaze wander up and down his body. The other soldiers laughed and Opton glared, obviously uncomfortable with the attention. “No, ma’am. I’m not a virgin.” He looked pointedly at her husband, sitting right beside him. “I prefer to do my fucking in private.” “You’ve never needed pussy so bad you fucked someone in a bathroom or a stairwell?” she challenged in a soft, breathy tone. “No, ma’am. I always managed to find a bed.” She chuckled low in her throat and focused on his mouth, nicely curved, full lower lip, perfect for nibbling. “And I can’t remember the last time I bothered with a bed. I’ve always been spontaneous.” “Enough talk,” Bryson snapped. “Get naked and get busy.” “I’ll get naked, but I want him just the way he is, safety straps and all.” “But, ma’am—” “No more excuses. Just relax and enjoy the ride.” She put her fingers beneath his chin and pushed his mouth shut. His hands fisted on his thighs and he stared straight ahead, doing his best to ignore her completely. She shrugged out of her jacket and laid it across the bench behind her. His expression didn’t change. She kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her blouse. He continued his stubborn resistance. “Opton! Don’t insult my wife with your attitude.” It took the soldier a few seconds to comply. His gaze finally shifted to her face and she winked then parted her blouse. Her outfit might have been conservative, but her lingerie was blatantly sexy. The black lace bra cradled her breasts while leaving the nipples bare. She sensed the others watching her and feminine power rushed through her veins. With her gaze locked with Opton’s, she grasped the tips of her breasts and rolled her nipples into tight, puckered beads. “Now the pants,” Bryson urged. “Show him your ass and your soft pink cunt. Let him feel how fast you get wet.”
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With a little wiggle, she shed her pants and set them on top of her jacket. She turned her back on Opton—and the men on either side of him—while she bent to remove her socks, presenting them with a fabulous view of her shapely legs and smooth, round ass. “For gods’ sake, Opton. If you don’t want her, let me fuck her for you!” the soldier on his left cried. “Not a bad idea, Lendorski. Stand behind her while you arouse her. Show Opton what he’s missing.” Bryson’s words didn’t surprise Nehalem. It would have been more unusual if he hadn’t included others in the entertainment. He loved to watch her become overwhelmed by sensation, accepting cocks into every opening until the fullness made her beg for release. Her pussy clenched and heat spread across her skin. Lendorski threw off his safety straps and joined her in the space between the benches. Pressing against her back as Bryson directed, he cupped her breasts and ground his erection into the small of her back. “Tug on her nipples. Harder, make her moan.” Like a remote-controlled pleasurebot, Lendorski responded to Bryson’s directives. “Get rid of the bra, it’s distracting.” She helped him rid her of the garment, pulse pounding as they waited for Bryson’s next order. “Move in front of her now and suck on her nipples.” They faced each other, offering Bryson and Opton a side view of their antics. Lendorski massaged her breasts while he greedily suckled, drawing the flesh deep before releasing it with a distinct pop. She looked at Bryson and smiled, reveling in her power over him. He wouldn’t touch her, but he couldn’t stop wanting her. “The thong…” Bryson’s voice was tense and breathless. “Rip it off.” Lendorski twisted the tiny front panel with his fingers and tugged hard. The straps snapped, leaving thin red welts on her ivory skin. Bryson rose from the bench, his gaze fixated on the discoloration. He traced the welt across her hip then splayed his fingers across one of her ass cheeks. “Lendorski, change of plans. Lie down on the bench.” “Yes, sir.” The soldier pushed her clothing to the far end of the bench and spread out on his back. “I’ve wanted to do this for longer than you can imagine.” Bryson whispered the words in her ear, causing her to shiver. She wasn’t sure what “this” was, but she doubted that it would be pleasant. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t enjoy it anyway. Urging her toward Lendorski’s prone body, Bryson positioned her beside the bench. He guided her hands to the wall and spread her legs. Her back was bent, her ass sticking out, an unintentional invitation. Would he butt-fuck her while Lendorski fingered her cunt? Uncertainty twisted, making her restless and unsure. She looked over her shoulder, trying to determine Bryson’s next move. With a wicked grin, he unbuckled his belt and drew it out of the pants loops. Holy shit! He was
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going to spank her. Her ass cheeks flexed and her stomach clenched. A few of her lovers liked to warm her ass with their hand, but no one had ever used a belt on her before. “Lendorski, push two fingers into her pussy.” The soldier immediately obeyed. His lust-bright eyes devoured her sex as his fingers explored her most intimate flesh. He slid his fingers in and out several times before coming to rest deep inside her passage. “Now tell me if she comes. She does not have permission to enjoy this.” Closing her eyes, she consciously released all the tension gripping her muscles. Apparently, Bryson had grown tired of watching her pleasure. Was she brave enough to control the pain? Bryson rubbed his hand over her ass, prolonging the anticipation. “Your skin is so delicate, so fine. I bet it will burn with just the slightest encouragement.” She didn’t reply. Nothing she said would change his intentions, so why give him the satisfaction? His fingers trailed into the crack between her cheeks, teasing her anus with a featherlight touch. She held her breath, afraid to move, unwilling to break the sensual spell. She felt light and floating as if she didn’t quite belong to her body. He’d crossed the line and touched her. It was only a matter of time before— He moved his hand and swung the belt, the sharp crack far worse than the sting. Lendorski flinched, but she relaxed with a slow, controlled sigh. Bryson couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt her, any more than he could bring himself to fuck her. His second swing echoed the first, a sharp crack and a slight sting. Heat spread across her skin, the sensation more soothing than punishing. “Don’t fight it, slut. Scream for me. I want to hear you scream.” Two more swings followed in quick succession, each one kissing a different path across her ass. The slowburning tingle made her wiggle and moan. Her pussy melted, her inner muscles rippling around Lendorski’s fingers. It felt raw and…arousing! The belt caressed her ass, spreading heat and heightening sensitivity. “Scream, damn you. I can’t stop until you scream.” She wasn’t sure she wanted him to stop. Her body was humming, smoldering, suspended in a surreal haze. Lendorski pushed up on his elbow, bringing his face closer to her crotch. “She’s really close, sir, and really wet!” Bryson dropped the belt and pressed his palms against her ass cheeks. The slight pressure amplified the burn. She cried out, surprised by the stark lust throbbing in her pussy. “Louder!” He squeezed harder and she gave in, screaming loud enough to salvage his pride. “Pull out. She hasn’t earned an orgasm.” She moaned in frustration when Lendorski removed his fingers. She’d been so close to a spectacular climax, maybe the most amazing of her life. Bryson wrapped her hair around his fist, not hurting, just controlling her movements. “Open up, Lendorski. You’re about to get the best blowjob of your life.” Lendorski frantically unfastened the front of his flight suit and freed his eager cock. She started to kneel, but Bryson stopped her. “Bend from the waist. Keep that pretty ass right where it is.” 99
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Only by widening her stance and bracing her hands on the bench was she able to reach Lendorski’s crotch without bending her knees. She guided his cock to her mouth and went to work with dispassionate skill. “Last chance, Opton.” Her steady bobbing faltered as she listened for Opton’s reply. If he refused to fuck her, would Bryson take his place? She could barely remember the last time her husband joined his flesh to hers. Please let Opton decline! “I appreciate the offer, sir. I’d rather watch.” Bryson’s hand tightened in her hair, so she resumed her slide up and down Lendorski’s shaft. Lendorski reached beneath her and absently fondled her breasts. Fingers thrust into her cunt and Bryson groaned. “So hot and so fucking wet. Ruiz, get over here.” No! Fuck me yourself. I’m right here, love. Take me. She tightened her inner muscles, begging for the solid column of his cock. His hand slipped out of her hair and she heard movement behind her. Fingers bit into her hips and the blunt head of a cock found her vaginal opening. For just a moment she thought Bryson was poised to take her then he stepped into her peripheral vision and her heart sank. “Beg me!” Bryson growled, leaning close to her ear. “If you want Ruiz to fuck you, you have to beg.” She whimpered, unable to comply. “Not good enough.” Releasing Lendorski for a moment, she said, “Please. Order him to fuck me. I need it bad.” Bryson nodded toward the soldier and Ruiz drilled into her, slow and steady, stopping only when his balls pressed against her clit. “Yes!” She moaned. “More, please, more.” Not waiting to see if he would oblige, she sucked Lendorski back into her mouth and resumed her steady slide. Ruiz held her hips, the firm slap of his body against her ass enough to maintain the heat. He moved strong and steady within her slick passage. She matched her bobbing to the firm rocking of the young man’s hips. She didn’t care if the others watched or what they thought. Bryson stood beside her, eyes wild with lust. Why wouldn’t he fuck her? Why persist with these twisted games? Ruiz sped his pace, his hands clutching her hips while his cock drove deep into her pussy. Lendorski lunged off the bench, clasping her face between his hands. His shaft jerked against her tongue and his seed shot into her throat. She swallowed, glad to be rid of the distraction. Ruiz held her steady and pounded into her cunt. Despite his vigorous thrusting, her arousal had just begun to build. She slipped her hand between her thighs and rubbed her clit. Tension built, swirling beneath her fingertips and rippling along the walls of her passage. Ruiz felt thick and strong, filling her deeply with each forceful thrust. She
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grasped her clit and gently tugged on the delicate stem, imagining her husband behind her, pretending his cock shuttled in and out of her needful passage. Sensations radiated outward, spreading the tingles and the heat. Coming with a sharp cry, Ruiz shuddered against and into her. She tightened her inner muscles and pinched her clit, forcing her reluctant orgasm to crest. The wave was lazy and quickly dissipated, but at least she came. The soldiers moved away from the bench, leaving her naked and trembling. She reached for her clothes, but Bryson grabbed her wrist. “Remain as you are, naked and dripping with cum. You serve one purpose and one purpose only. I will never let you forget it.” Anger and shame swept over her in alternating waves, first cold then hot then cold again. With as much dignity as she could manage, she sat and refastened her safety straps. Bryson grasped her knees and spread her legs, displaying her moist sex. “Close your legs and I’ll beat you with something far more damaging than my belt.” He returned to his seat and struck up a conversation with Opton, refusing to glance her way. She seethed. What little control she possessed was rapidly slipping. She had to find a way of escaping his control. All her attempts to reignite his interest had obviously been in vain. His lust had turned to cruelty and she was tired of his abuse. Bryson’s men monitored every move she made and they’d been ordered to kill her if she made so much as a threatening gesture. Still, invisibility or teleportation would allow her to escape their watchful eye. Bryson controlled which mutants she was allowed to collect. She sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy, but she would find a way. Chrysalis One was the key. If she could take control of the prototype or access those canisters… An opportunity would present itself and she would be ready to move when it did. One thing was certain, she was finished being her husband’s whore!
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Chapter Eight “Can I at least come along for the ride?” Cassie asked as Fane and Mal Ton prepared to leave the Underground. “Allen is stubborn. He’ll fight you every step of the way.” “He can be as stubborn as he likes.” Fane flashed his charming smile. “This is strictly smash and grab.” “It might not be a bad idea for him to see a familiar face once we get him back to the shuttle,” Mal Ton said. Thankful for the unexpected support, Cassie offered him a tentative smile. Fane’s obvious hesitation was no surprise. Despite their intimacies, he didn’t trust her yet. “I know we’re somewhere in Old Towne. The architecture is a dead giveaway. Besides, your spies need access to Sanctum, which means they’re probably using the abandoned subway tunnels.” She paused for a challenging smile. “How am I doing so far?” “You’ve always been annoyingly observant,” Fane grumbled. “Then there’s no reason to leave me behind.” With a helpless shrug, Fane relented. “I suppose it’s better than locking you in my room.” Mal Ton chuckled, but Cassie bristled, unsure whether or not Fane had been serious. Did he intend to lock her up each time he left the Underground? They’d been together since leaving Stilox, so she wasn’t familiar with their new routine. She followed the men through the lobby of the abandoned hotel and out a back entrance. They passed a few of Fane’s people, though no one paused for conversation. She had never seen such a purpose-driven group of people in her life. The Protarian militia could learn a lot from Fane’s fighters, though neither side would enjoy the exchange. Night had fallen while they were in the infirmary, shrouding the area in gloomy shadows. A dilapidated shuttle awaited across a grassy clearing. Trees and overgrown gardens hinted at the areas former beauty. “Didn’t we arrive in a police shuttle?” She looked around more carefully. The rusted-out piece of junk was the only ship in sight. A secretive smile curved Fane’s lips as he triggered the main hatch. “Exterior shields project whatever image we select within reason. Obviously the size and shape need to be somewhat compatible.” “Very clever.” She climbed in after Fane and found the interior unchanged. The cockpit, which consisted of two high-backed chairs and a vast array of instrumentation, 102
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was separated from the fuselage by an archway. Four chairs lined the walls of the passenger cabin, facing the center of the small craft. Stark, functional, the ship was built for speed not comfort. “The holoshield comes in handy from time to time.” Fane slipped into the pilot’s chair while Mal Ton navigated. Their positions had been reversed on the way here. Considering how long they’d lived, she shouldn’t be surprised at their versatility. Fane glanced at her to make sure she’d strapped in before he launched the shuttle. The ship vibrated and rocked before settling into a comfortable rhythm. “Silver Hills isn’t a whole lot safer than Old Towne,” Mal Ton said after inputting their destination. “Why would a successful scientist live in such a bad neighborhood?” “Allen is living in Silver Hills?” She shuddered. The subdivision had been relatively upscale twenty-five years ago, but resources were tight and Protarian law enforcement had to prioritize. Many of the outlying neighborhoods had been declared black zones. Inhabitants were left to their own devices as long as their activities were contained within the zones. “Why does that surprise you?” Fane asked. “He was still living in Sanctum the last time I saw him.” “And when was that?” Mal Ton wanted to know. “Almost a year ago.” “A lot can happen in a year.” Fane dismissed the topic and turned back to his instrument panel. “Silver Hills should work to our advantage,” Mal Ton mused. “Surveillance will be minimal or nonexistent as will building security.” Crime and poverty ran rampant in the black zones. Cassie hated to think of Allen in Silver Hills. He was brilliant and ambitious… And her father had ruined his life. Her stomach knotted tighter and tighter as they neared their destination. Boardedup windows and obvious decay made the buildings here nearly indistinguishable from Old Towne. She’d existed for years surrounded by these places without giving them a second thought. “There,” Fane said, pointing toward an area on the viewscreen in front of him. “The buildings here and here will give us cover.” “Works for me. Can you set her down in such a small space, or do you want me to take the con?” “Bite me. I’m every bit as good a pilot as you are.” As if to prove his point, Fane sailed between two buildings with barely enough clearance for the ship’s wings. Cassie held her breath until the ship came to rest in the tiny lot behind their destination. Fane smiled triumphantly and Cassie exhaled. After switching on the scanner located on his right, Mal Ton took a moment to study the area. “He’s either got the whole floor to himself or no one else is home.”
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“It doesn’t look like real estate in this area is in high demand.” Fane activated the hatch and unfastened his restraints. Mal Ton motioned him back. “I’ll grab him. You be ready to fly.” “Make sure you bring his DPU,” Cassie reminded. “I hadn’t forgotten.” Without a backward glance, Mal Ton crept across the lot and disappeared between the two buildings. “No shields or alarms,” Fane told her. “This should be simple.” Cassie released her straps and moved into the space beside Fane’s seat. “Where is Allen?” “This is Allen,” he indicated a dot near the center of the screen. “And this is Mal Ton.” She watched Mal Ton’s dot advance with steady speed toward Allen’s dot. A lowrumbling growl drew her attention away from the scanner. “What was that?” “I’m not sure.” Fane activated external sensors. An image of the lot scrolled across the main viewer, panning from left to right. Golden lights gleamed in the alley opposite from where Mal Ton had disappeared. “Wait!” She touched Fane’s shoulder. “Go back.” Fane aimed the camera directly at the alley. Eight golden orbs glowed in the darkness, or actually four sets of two. “We’ve got an audience.” “Mutants?” She still found it hard to use the word. According to the elite, mutants were deformed abominations, not people like Fane and Mal Ton. “Looks as if.” Without further warning their audience charged, crossing the clearing in a blur of gray and gold. The shuttle rocked violently and the external feed blinked out. “Shit!” Fane closed the hatch and reactivated their shields. “They’re not the friendly sort.” We have company, Mal Ton. Fane sent the thought to his friend, but Cassie heard it clearly. You might want to hold off for a few minutes. Too late. Fane motioned her back and reached across to one of the other panels. His fingers flew across the controls with confident skill. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with,” he muttered, bringing one of the cameras back online. Contorted and misshapen, the creatures’ faces were barely recognizable as humanoid. She shuddered. This is what her father thought of when he mentioned mutants. Their guttural growls and menacing snarls reverberated through Cassie as guilt eroded her shock. Glowing like golden beckons, their eyes left no doubt as to the cause of their deformity. If Allen couldn’t help her break the cycle this might be Sarah or Mal Ton—or Fane.
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The shuttle shook. She braced herself between the two seats. “Have you seen creatures like these before?” He glanced at her, disbelief clear in his gaze. “You mean you haven’t?” Muffled shots exploded in quick succession. Cassie could only see one side of the lot, but she presumed Mal Ton had returned. Fane launched a series of rapid commands through the small panel near his left knee and the creatures screamed in unison. “What did you do?” “Electrified the hull.” Another volley of shots sent most of the aggressors scattering into the darkness surrounding the ship. An especially stubborn creature touched the ship twice more before abandoning the fight and retreating like the others. I lost port scanners, Fane told Mal Ton. Are you clear to return? Yes, but cover the opening. Our guest says they haven’t gone far. Fane left the cockpit and drew his pulse pistol, standing to one side as the hatch lowered. Allen rushed up the stairs, followed immediately by Mal Ton. Allen’s DPU was tucked under Mal Ton’s arm and Allen’s lip was bloodied. “Did you have to hit him?” She moved forward, examining the wound more closely. Several other bruises were rapidly darkening Allen’s skin. “He wouldn’t listen to reason and I didn’t have time to argue,” Mal Ton defended. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” Fane secured the hatch and motioned her toward one of the passenger seats. “Cassie?” Allen’s disbelief was clear in his breathless tone. “What are you doing here?” “Long story.” She said nothing more until they were airborne. “What is this about?” Allen demanded. His voice was clearer and anger hardened his features. “Why did you drag me out of my home in the middle of the night?” “Cassie, you wanted to come along,” Fane said without turning his attention from the controls. “Fill him in on what’s going on.” She looked at Allen more closely, noticing for the first time that he wore a white tshirt and pajama bottoms. His blond hair was mussed and his jawline shadowed with whiskers. “Did we wake you up?” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She suppressed the reaction, suspecting he wouldn’t share her amusement. “I wasn’t asleep, but I was in bed.” His bright blue gaze swept her from head to foot. “You’re dressed like one of them? What the fuck is going on?” Allen never cussed. He must be really upset. “This is all my fault, I’m afraid. I need your help with a project and I couldn’t risk my father finding out about it.” A bit of his tension eased and he rubbed his forehead before he replied. “You need my help with a project?”
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“Not just a project,” she stressed. “The lives of hundreds of people depend on our combined knowledge finding a solution to their problem.” “More like thousands of people,” Mal Ton put in. Allen leaned toward her, and whispered, “Are they… Are you asking me to commit treason?” “I suppose I am. I hadn’t really thought about it like that.” “I’m a Stilox rebel,” Mal Ton informed. “And he is one of the mutants.” Cassie nodded toward Fane. “Would I have access to others with varying stages of mutation?” Allen glanced at Fane then back at Cassie. “Are the mutations as widespread as I thought?” “Perhaps more so.” She smiled. “You were right about so many things and helping me now will allow you to prove it.” “I will not allow my people to be exploited,” Fane snapped. “Your people?” Allen’s brow arched and his gaze filled with speculation. Fane ignored the question. “If you cannot be respectful and compassionate, you will not be allowed to interact with anyone but Cassie—and me.” The last phrase rang with warning. “It won’t be a problem,” Cassie assured. “I’ve never known Allen to be anything but respectful and compassionate.” “If you say so.” Fane turned his full attention back to piloting the ship. “Does your father know where you are?” Allen asked after a strained silence. “I don’t give a damn what my father knows. The past few days have been…illuminating.” Allen inclined his head, accepting her comment without qualification. “What do they want us to do?” “Stabilize and reverse the mutation cycle. I know we can do the first. I’m hopeful about the second.” A slow, gently mocking smile parted Allen’s lips. “How can we reverse something that doesn’t exist?” “I’m sorry I ever doubted you. I should have fought harder, should have—” “There was nothing you could have done. If your father admits the mutations are ongoing and widespread, he has to deal with the people suffering through the changes. We both know it’s easier to turn a blind eye.” Mal Ton blindfolded Allen as they neared Old Towne. Cassie crossed her arms over her chest and watched the shabby buildings speed past. Fane was confident enough in her loyalty not to take the same precaution. The realization left her feeling oddly guilty. Escape still teased her imagination from time to time. She wasn’t quite as settled as he presumed.
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The blindfold wasn’t removed until Allen was in the infirmary. He blinked repeatedly and looked around. “How is she doing?” Fane asked Ostan as Allen acclimated himself to his surroundings. “Stable. For now.” The doctor stared at Allen, suspicion clear in his night black eyes. “Can we trust him?” “Mal Ton will tail him until we know for sure,” Fane assured. Allen walked over to the large screen and scrolled through Sarah’s chart. “This is amazing.” Cassie joined him in front of the readout. “Go ahead and say it.” “I was right,” Allen whispered then smiled and repeated with far more enthusiasm, “I was right!” “How do we help her?” Cassie asked. “I can stop her deterioration with one injection.” He rubbed his chin, his expression distracted and thoughtful. “Reversing the mutation, however, will be a lot more complicated.” “We don’t have access to blank nanites, but mine are self-replicating. I figured we could reprogram them and get started.” Allen looked at Ostan, and said, “I need an extractor.” Ostan pulled open one of the drawers in the cart beside him and handed Allen a small cylindrical instrument. “Can you really help her?” he asked as he placed the extractor in Allen’s hand. “We’ll know by morning.” Allen filled the extractor with Cassie’s blood. She had his DPU open and ready to use by the time he found the supplies they would need. A cluster of nanites were separated from the blood sample and suspended in a conductive liquid. She launched the interface sequencer then stepped aside, allowing Allen to revise the programming. Most of Protaria gave her credit for the counteragents. In truth, most of the major breakthroughs had been Allen’s. “That should do it,” he said some time later. “Just like that?” Fane asked. “I told you he was good.” Cassie smiled, feeling a bit outshined. “We should be able to apply the same principles to Lorelle’s illness. If Sarah responds favorably, which I have every confidence she will, we’ll prepare a treatment for Lorelle.” “This was the easy part,” Allen reminded. “This will only neutralize the cycle of mutation, not make her whole again.” Fane took a step toward him then stopped. “You can make her whole again?” “I don’t honestly know. It’s possible. I need time to study your records and not just Sarah’s. I need access to all the information you have on the mutations.”
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Ostan stepped forward, a cautious smile curving his lips. “I’ll see that you have everything you need.”
***** “Was Allen your lover?” The question caught Cassie by surprise. She turned to face Fane and shrugged with forced nonchalance. “We were lovers for about four months almost two years ago.” This was the first time they’d been alone since they arrived in the Underground and Cassie didn’t want to waste time arguing. They’d retired to Fane’s room soon after Allen injected Sarah with the reprogrammed nanites, leaving the supervision of Allen in Mal Ton’s capable hands. Cassie glanced around. The room was neat and functional, the furniture obviously scavenged. An occasional touch of color kept the décor from being drab, but there were few luxuries. When every day was a struggle to survive, materialism lost its importance. “Why did you ask about Allen?” She shifted her gaze back to Fane and awareness arched between them. For good or bad, right or wrong, their lives were undeniably entwined. “There’s a familiarity between you that only develops with intimacy.” He was fighting hard not to reveal his feelings, but she could sense jealousy smoldering beneath the surface. “I was lonely.” His gaze gleamed with possessiveness and desire. Still, she wasn’t willing to let him off the hook without squirming first. “My husband was dead and the man I wanted to be with had mysteriously disappeared. Allen was a shoulder to cry on, nothing more.” “But you did more than cry on his shoulder.” Putting her hands on her hips, she raised her chin, and said, “Only because you weren’t there for me.” She wasn’t really angry, though she probably should have been. Seeing into his mind, experiencing his memories had irreversibly altered her perception. Fane had many faults but selfishness wasn’t one of them. “I’ll never leave you again, Cassandra. You have my solemn vow.” He stalked toward her, gaze focusing on her lips. She didn’t doubt his sincerity. Determination pulsed through every word. Still, his life was controlled by forces stronger than his will. If he had to choose between his people and her happiness, she wasn’t sure his determination would be enough. “What did he do to your finger?” Fane asked after several moments of strained silence. She’d done her best not to draw Fane’s attention while Allen reset her injector. As usual, Fane hadn’t missed a thing. “For some odd reason, I felt vulnerable after you seduced me. I had a transfer tube implanted beneath my fingernail so I would never be caught without a weapon again.”
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His fingers closed around her wrist and he raised her hand toward his face. “You’ve been armed this entire time?” He turned her hand, studying the tiny transfer tube. “Is this how you knocked out Max?” “Yes and yes. The injector has two levels. The first incapacitates. The second kills. It’s been stuck on level two ever since you rescued me. I couldn’t reset the nanites without a DPU.” “All you had to do was jab me with this thing and I’d be dead?” “That’s right.” He guided her hand to his chest and flattened her fingers over his heart. “So why didn’t you?” “You never did anything overtly threatening. I had no justification for murder.” His warm palm pressed over hers, emphasizing his strength while teasing her senses. “Is that the only reason?” His gaze challenged and caressed, tempting her to take the final step, to surrender her heart as well as her body. “I’ve done everything you asked. What more do you want from me?” She tried to tug her hand out from under his, but he wouldn’t budge. “It’s not what I want from you, but what I want for you. I want you to be happy, to find a future free of your father’s manipulation.” She scoffed softly and dragged her gaze away from his handsome face. “My father isn’t the only one who manipulated me.” “I’m sorry I used you. I’ve never regretted anything more.” He raised one hand to her face and cupped her chin. “Leaving you that night was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Weariness crept over her soul and her shoulders slumped. She was tired of conflict, tired of being alone. “Words are easy, Fane. You’re too damn good at telling me what I want to hear.” “Then let me show you. I’ll spend the rest of my life demonstrating what you mean to me.” His face lowered slowly, his gaze sinking into hers. Their lips pressed, exchanging warmth and breath as his mind opened to hers. Hot and vibrant, his being passed through her and curled around her. She tensed then relaxed and drew his mouth back to hers. The kiss was slow and gentle, lips sliding, tongues teasing. She buried her fingers in his soft hair. Sex had always been amazing with Fane. It was only when the rest of the world intruded that their relationship became complicated. She focused on the warm press of his mouth and the patient touch of his tongue, savoring the momentary peace. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. Her breasts pressed against his chest and one of his thighs eased between her legs. Your mouth is so soft and your taste intoxicates me, makes me anxious to sample more. His voice sounded breathless and husky even in her mind. 109
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With one arm wrapped around her waist, he tangled his other hand in her hair and slowly drew her head back. She clutched his shoulders while his mouth explored her neck and the underside of her jaw. His lips slid and his teeth nipped. He soothed each sharp sting with the warmth of his tongue. Her head began to spin and her body felt weightless, floating within the circle of his arms. His mouth returned to hers for a moment then he continued his descent across her sensitive skin. With sudden urgency, he tugged her shirt off over her head and tossed it aside. She kicked off her shoes while he stepped back and attacked his own clothing. Garments went flying and boots thudded against the floor. She laughed then gasped as he pulled her to him and continued his assault on their garments. They paused, facing each other, naked and breathless. Golden shards blinked to life within the depths of his eyes. His gaze swept from her head to her feet in a slow, appreciative caress. Her chest flushed and her nipples tingled. Tension rippled through her abdomen and her core clenched, more than ready for the possessive thrust of his cock. So beautiful. The words whispered through her mind as he bent to her breast and latched on to one tender nipple. His fingers caressed while his lips pulled and sensation dropped from her chest to her core. Firm and greedy, his mouth worked one nipple then the other, back and forth until she squirmed and shivered. Without warning, he swept her up in his arms and moved to the bed. He set her down for a moment while he arranged himself on his back then he opened his arms with a sexy smile. Kneel over my face. Let’s do each other. She shivered, understanding what he suggested yet never having tried this position before. Come on, love. He motioned her forward. You’ll like it. I promise. Careful to clear his face, she swung one leg over his head and settled her weight on her knees. Her pussy was situated directly above his mouth, his warm breath teasing her damp curls. Oh, this was wicked. She shivered again then leaned forward, lightly resting her breasts on his belly. Steadying herself with one hand, she encircled his cock with the other and angled it toward her mouth. His tongue traced her slit, teasing her folds without really parting them. He brushed across her clit and her inner muscles tightened, accenting the emptiness. His hands rubbed her hips and thighs, pausing occasionally to squeeze her ass. She concentrated on his sensitive tip, swirling her tongue around him and sucking ruthlessly. He groaned and bucked, pushing his shaft deeper into her mouth. Wetting his length with her tongue, she slid her lips up and down. His hips matched her rhythm, controlling the depth of each stroke. I need you so badly. He sounded miserable. I’m not going to last long. Don’t fight it. Come for me. I want to feel you lose control. His mouth pressed against her, his tongue taking on the rhythm of her mouth. Tension gripped his abdomen, hardening the muscles beneath her breasts. She bobbed 110
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her head and pumped his shaft with her hand. A rich, salty taste spread across her tongue and she groaned. Centuries of training and self-discipline were no match for their desire. The knowledge thrilled and excited her. She pulled back, sucking on his tip while her hand stroked his shaft. He grasped her hips and thrust his tongue into her passage. His hips bucked hard, forcing his cock to the back of her mouth. He came in hot, pulsing jets, his thighs shaking. She licked and swallowed, determined to keep up with him. His arms wrapped around her and he rolled, sweeping her beneath him. She laughed and his cock slipped free of her mouth. With a soft growl, he climbed off her and pulled her to the middle of the bed. Now it’s your turn to lose control. It was the only warning she would receive. He settled himself at her side and slipped one arm beneath her neck. His mouth claimed hers in a deep mating of lips and tongues. Their breaths mingled along with the taste of their passion. She touched his face and squeezed his shoulder, knowing her freedom wouldn’t last much longer. Raise your hands above your head and keep them there. You do not have permission to touch me. Willingly submitting to his directives was even more of a challenge than being restrained. Slowly, she raised her arms and entwined her fingers, knowing it was the only way she’d be able to keep herself from touching him. He feathered caresses across her torso, teasing her ribs and stroking the curve of her breasts while intentionally ignoring her nipples. Slipping one hand between her thighs, he covered her mound and stared into her eyes. So hot. His middle finger eased between her folds and he smiled. And so wet. Did you enjoy sucking my cock? You know I did. He circled her opening, drawing her attention to the need still pulsing there. I want to hear you say it. I enjoyed sucking your cock. Knowing you can’t control how much you want me is exciting. And what do you want now? This was a rare treat. He seldom gave her a choice. And he loved prolonging her arousal. She chose her words carefully. I want you to use your mouth to make me come really hard. Then I want you to fuck me until we’re both exhausted. As you wish. Mischief made his gaze sparkle as settled on his knees between her thighs. He pushed her knees up and back, spreading her legs wide. His thumbs parted her outer lips and he licked his way from her vaginal opening to her clit. Already aroused from their earlier play, her body sizzled with sensations. She tried not to wiggle, tried to concentrate on the gentle brush of his tongue. Her inner muscles contracted, tension building to the point of pain. She needed to come, but she needed the fullness of his cock even more.
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He closed his lips around her clit and gently sucked. She cried out and arched into the caress. Pleasure released within her, blasting her senses in short, sharp bursts. That might have been hard. I don’t think it qualifies as really hard. He draped her legs over his shoulders and raised her hips off the bed. Understanding washed through her as his mouth devoured her pussy. He would torture her with pleasure. Push her to the brink of insanity before he finally fucked her. A smile parted her lips and she quickly turned her head, not wanting him to see how much his strategy pleased her. Fane sucked her essence into his mouth and let it soothe his ravaged composure. Surrendering control, even in so pleasurable a way, incited his primitive nature, made him restless and…savage. He wanted her writhing beneath him, wild and wanton, unable to conceal how desperately she needed his cock inside her. He sucked on her folds and swirled his tongue inside her core, never staying in one place long enough to trigger another orgasm. Her cream trailed from her cunt, leading his mouth lower, toward her other opening. She gasped and moaned, tossing her hips and arching her back. One of her legs slid off his shoulder, inadvertently presenting him with a better target. He passed his tongue over the tiny rosette, her murmurs driving him on. Circling the puckered flesh with his tongue, he reached around her hip and found her clit with his middle finger. “Fane!” Her voice broke into a ragged sigh. He carefully rolled her clit between his thumb and forefinger and she shook with a powerful orgasm. She’d taken him like this on the metaphysical plane, but never in reality. It would take time and patience if he were to initiate her properly. His desire for her was too raw, too intense. He eased her leg down and knelt between her thighs. She bent her knees, opening herself with unmistakable invitation. They’d fucked before, but somehow this felt different, special. He guided his cock to her entrance then looked into her eyes. His hands slipped under her ass and he angled her toward him. Cassie held her breath as he drove his thick length into her slick heat. She was ready, oh-so ready. Ravenous hunger blazed within her mind. This was Cassie, his Cassie. Without restraint or artifice, she revealed herself to him, open as she had never been before. You’re so…beautiful. Shaking with gratitude and tenderness, he drew back then thrust deep. He claimed her with his body and his mind. She drew her legs up high against his sides and caressed him with her inner muscles. He stroked her breasts for a moment then kissed her. His tongue mimicked the steady rhythm of his cock. He flowed through her, warming her with his body and his energy. Her body caressed his, attuned to the forceful slide and the inescapable penetration. She moved with him, relaxing into his rhythm, following his lead. Urgency rushed up through him, spilling over into her. She defused the sensations, sending them outward as he drove faster and harder between her thighs. Her nails dug into his back and he ripped his mouth away from hers, unable to maintain the kiss in 112
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his frenzy. His hands returned to her hips, pulling her ass off the bed while his body shuddered violently. Her pleasure pelted him in shocking jolts as he came deep inside her. She greedily absorbed his release, her body echoing each sensation. Her cunt milked him while they floated in a cloud of utter bliss. She surrounded him and flowed through him, and nothing had ever felt so perfect. As if to mock the tranquility they enjoyed, someone pounded on the door. Fane groaned as he separated their bodies and scrambled off the bed. He grabbed his pants off the floor and tugged them on as Cassie covered herself with the bedding. “This better be important,” he snapped as he triggered the door. “I’m not sure how he did it, but the bastard is gone!” Mal Ton’s expression was thunderous. “Which bastard? What are you talking about?” Taking a deep breath, Mal Ton continued in a calmer tone, “We sensed a disturbance then heard a scream. By the time we got to the holding cell it was too late. One of his guards is seriously injured and the other is dead.” The pieces fell into place and Fane grimaced. “Max?” Mal Ton’s frustrated nod said it all. “He sucked the guards dry and teleported to…who knows where. The only thing we know for certain is he’s no longer in the Underground.”
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Chapter Nine A flash of light snapped Nehalem from her troubled thoughts. She’d been tossing and turning for the past couple of hours, but sleep evaded her. If her perimeter shields had been breached intruder alerts would have sounded. But lightning didn’t strike inside a building! She snatched her robe off the foot of her bed and lowered her feet to the floor. Fear sped her pulse and made her skin tingle. She’d been wound up since she returned from Soranta. Still, she hadn’t imagined that flash. Creeping through the darkened hallway, she approached her living room. Moonlight streamed in through the windows, outlining the furniture while concealing details. The front door was still locked, the security indictor pulsing green. A muffled moan disturbed the tense atmosphere, drawing her attention to the shadowed corner beside the sofa. The shadow moved and she gasped. “Security—” “Nehalem, don’t! No one can know I’m here.” That voice. She knew that voice. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?” Daniel Keller, aka Max, could teleport, so the last question was moot. “What do you want?” His only reply was heavy breathing. Was he wounded? Despite her misgivings, she crossed the living room and knelt beside him. He was curled up on his side, knees drawn toward his chest. There didn’t appear to be a wound, but something was definitely wrong with him. “Half of Protaria is looking for you and the other half thinks you’re dead.” She brushed the hair back from his face. Even in the moonlight he looked emaciated. “How did you get away from Fane?” “It wasn’t easy.” He groaned but managed to push himself to a sitting position. “Did I make it through without tripping the alarm?” “Yes,” she admitted, “but you can’t stay here!” A sad smile quirked one corner of his mouth. Even fatigued and defeated he was appealing. “I have nowhere else to go.” Misfits, that’s what they were, drawn together by mutual enemies. Their paths had crossed often in the last few years. They used each other and fucked each other, but it had never really been romantic. “It’s too dangerous. Bryson will kill us both if he finds you here.” “So we’ll make sure he doesn’t find me.” He took a deep breath and finger-combed his hair out of his eyes. “I just need a few days then you’ll never see me again.”
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“A few days to do what?” Max had always procured things she couldn’t hope to access. Not to mention his ability. Interplanetary teleportation. If she helped him escape, would he allow her to collect his gift? The possibility was certainly tempting. But she sure as hell couldn’t trust him! “I need to make other arrangements,” he evaded. “I might have a better idea.” He chuckled, one of his brows arching. “I’ll be happy to fuck you, but I’m exhausted right now.” “I’m not interested in your cock.” She ignored the tingles ignited by her memory. The last thing she needed was another man making demands on her! “However, I am interested in your power.” “We’ve fucked before and you didn’t absorb my power.” “I’ve never actively tried to absorb your power.” His gaze drifted from her face to her breasts before he asked, “Why not?” “I didn’t have a reason to teleport.” “But you do now?” “The details are none of your business.” She had no intention of telling him about Project Chrysalis. It was her one chance at freedom and she wasn’t going to share it with anyone. “I’ll smuggle you offworld in exchange for your power.” “What if you’re unable to ‘collect’ me?” “That will be my problem as long as you let me try.” He licked his lips and stared into her eyes. “You’ve made me curious as hell. You realize that, don’t you?” “Curiosity is the least of your problems.” She dismissed his comment with the wave of her hand. “Let’s get you to bed.”
***** Cassie spent the following day in the lab with Allen. Ostan checked in from time to time, but he was the first to admit the crisis was well beyond his knowledge base. Sarah had already responded to the nanites. Her vital signs were stable and Ostan was weaning her off the sedatives. Allen had prepared a treatment for Lorelle and it was on its way to Stilox. They should know in the next day or two if she responded as well as Sarah. Late in the afternoon, Allen paused and looked at Cassie. “Is Fane…? Are you here of your own free will or…?” She wasn’t sure when Allen had learned Fane’s identity. She thought the mutants had been careful not to call each other by name. “I was kidnapped by a rogue mutant named Max. Fane and Mal Ton rescued me. I’ve been here more or less willingly ever since.” 115
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“It’s the more or less that worries me. Has he done anything to you that you didn’t welcome?” “No.” She touched his arm and smiled. “Our relationship is complicated, but Fane is one of the good guys.” Allen sighed. “I’ll let it go, but you have to promise me you’ll tell me if he does anything… I won’t let anyone hurt you, Cassie. Even if they are one of the good guys.” His concern was sweet, yet she felt compelled to defend Fane. “He won’t hurt me. You don’t need to worry about that.” “All right.” He turned back to the control console with another sigh. “This would be so much easier if the Faundi were still around.” “What do you mean?” “Widespread mutations didn’t take place until Faundi DNA was introduced into the mix. I’ve been able to map the effects of the original lentavirus. The variations stemming from the Faundi DNA are far harder to trace. Without an unsullied template, it’s almost impossible.” “I think I might be able to help.” She pushed back from the workstation. “I’ll be right back.” Rather than searching the entire Underground, she sent out a search pulse and located Fane. He was in his office with Mal Ton. No surprise there. She rushed to meet him, anxious to share Allen’s revelation. She hadn’t expected resistance from either of them, so their reaction puzzled her. “It’s impossible,” Mal Ton said. “The only thing that has kept Fane alive is the fact no one knows who the fuck he is.” Fane’s approach was less abrasive, but no less vehement. “Sweetheart, your father and many others hunted my people to extinction. Or at least they think they did. Allen isn’t the only one who believes the key to controlling mutant abilities lies in my DNA. If your father learned that I’m Faundi, he would tear this planet apart looking for me.” “Allen isn’t trying to control mutant powers,” she objected. “He’s trying to reverse them.” “He might be now, but one naturally leads to the other.” His expression was closed, his mind guarded. “The temptation is just too strong. The Faundi are dead and they must remain that way.” “So we let the rest of your people follow them to the grave?” She couldn’t believe this was an issue. “The mutation cycle will continue until everyone succumbs. Do you want to end up like one of those creatures who attacked the shuttle?” “You won’t let that happen.” He smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. “You saved Sarah without delving into my DNA.” “It’s a temporary stabilization. She isn’t cured.” “I never asked you to cure her. Minimize her suffering. We don’t expect any more.”
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Understanding expanded within her and she narrowed her gaze on his face. “You’re afraid. You think a cure will nullify your abilities and you don’t want to live without them.” Mal Ton stepped toward her, his expression stark and commanding. “We’re outnumbered and outgunned. Our powers are our only advantage.” He had a valid point, but it didn’t justify the sacrifice. She looked him in the eye, and insisted, “You’re not seeing the big picture.” She shifted her gaze to Fane. “Not only will a cure save people like Sarah, it will neutralize people like Max.” “If Fane had let me have my way, Max would already be neutralized,” Mal Ton grumbled. “It’s a complex problem,” Fane said. “There are no easy answers.” “But you won’t let Allen map your DNA.” It wasn’t a question. She could see the answer in his eyes. “I don’t agree with your decision, but I’ll honor your wishes.” Fane watched her leave, regret welling within him. “It’s the right decision,” Mal Ton said. “No, it’s the only rational decision. No matter how hard we tried to hide it, something that important is bound to get out. No one else can know your secret.” “She’s right about Max. We need a way to neutralize people who use their powers to commit crimes.” Mal Ton folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “You really want to evaluate the actions of every mutant? Isn’t their survival enough responsibility?” Fane pushed back from his desk and stood. “You’re right. There’s only so much I can control.” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “So when are you heading back to Stilox? I thought you might hand carry Lorelle’s treatment.” “Trying to get rid of me?” “No.” Fane ignored his mocking tone. “I just know how much you care about her.” “Roark isn’t going to bring her out of stasis until the injection arrives and it will take at least another twenty-four hours before they know anything. I’ll probably head out tomorrow night.” “No pressure. You’re always welcome. Have you heard from Sean? Has he had any luck finding Brianna?” “He checked in this morning.” Mal Ton grinned. “You were otherwise occupied so I talked to him.” “Has he located her?” “He found her, rescued her, but she took off as soon as he turned his back.” Mal Ton shook his head, but a hint of amusement lit his gaze. “For some reason, Brianna was reluctant to trust him.”
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“That’s no surprise. She was kidnapped and transported to another planet without being told why. Does he have any idea where she’s headed?” “He tracked her to one of the black zones. He sounded frustrated but determined. You know Sean. He won’t return without her.” Mal Ton sighed. “I was really hoping I could tell Lorelle her sister was safe. She’s been really worried.” “It will happen. Sean is one of the best.” Fane thought of all the complications Lorelle had brought to Mal Ton’s life, and all the happiness. He couldn’t suppress a smile. “Are human women all this much trouble?” Mal Ton chuckled. “If Brianna is half as spirited as her sister, Sean’s in for one hell of a ride!”
***** Later that night Fane sat across his desk from Cassie as they ate a late dinner. Allen had taken a tray to the lab, but Fane insisted Cassie take a break and attempt to clear her mind. “Have you made any progress?” He regretted the question as soon as he saw the hostility in her eyes. “We’re spinning our wheels and you know it. You can trust Allen. He has no reason to reveal your heritage to anyone.” “His success alone would send up red flags.” Why wouldn’t she let this go? Mal Ton had helped him explain the danger inherent in anyone finding out a Faundi still lived. “The only way to harness the mutations is to—” “I can’t stop thinking about your tattoo.” “What the fuck does that mean?” He pushed his tray aside and came out from behind his desk. He’d trusted her with something intensely private and sacred to him. He couldn’t believe she was about to throw it back in his face. “The seer warned that you would be responsible for great sorrow as well as great joy.” “This is not what she was talking about.” “How do you know? Your DNA was responsible for expanding the paranormal elements within the mutation cycle. Why shouldn’t your DNA be used to curtail the pain those mutations have caused?” He clenched his fists, too angry to speak. She had no right to use his pantauk against him. It was the worst kind of manipulation. “Decisions made in the present shape the future. I’ve never seen that fact so starkly emphasized.” She stood as well, her gaze direct and unrepentant. “I’m going back to the lab where I can do some good.” Fane raised his hand to stop her, but she was out the door before he could clear the tightness from his throat. Damn it! She was asking him to risk what little peace he’d
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found. He had spent too many years as prey. He couldn’t go back to that kind of life, no matter how noble the cause. Mal Ton arrived a short time later with a woman Fane had never seen before. She was tiny, her head barely reaching Mal Ton’s shoulder. Silver blonde hair framed her heart-shaped face and her shimmering purple eyes tilted at an exotic angle. Her origins were beyond this star system, but Fane didn’t recognize her species. “This is Shae Milleepon,” Mal Ton introduced. “She has supplied the Stilox resistance with various supplies for the past nine years.” Fane easily translated. She was a gunrunner. So what was she doing here? “It’s nice to meet you.” Shae inclined her head as opposed to extending her hand, so Fane followed suit. “Actually, I am Milleepon,” she corrected with a gentle smile. “Shae is my partner.” “Where is he?” Mal Ton asked. “This is the first time I’ve seen you without him.” “It’s easier for me to travel unnoticed on Protaria and discretion is extremely important.” Unsure where this was leading, Fane just waited for her to explain. “Shae and I are currently negotiating with General Bryson. He has no idea we know his true identity, of course, but we thought you would be interested in what he’s selling.” She handed Fane a data strip, and added, “He calls it a Chrysalis.” Fane pushed the data strip into the slot on his workstation and sent the signal to the viewscreen in the wall beside him. A holding cell came into view, a female standing in the center of the small room. Recognition struck with sudden force. “That’s Karris.” No one said anything more as the scene unfolded. They watched Karris absorb the requested abilities and casually demonstrate her new powers. “Holy shit,” Mal Ton muttered. “Does Cassie know about this?” “Damn good question.” Fane accessed their link and asked Cassie to return to his office. I’ve said all I have to say right now. I have something you need to see. This has nothing to do with our argument. All right. “I also included a copy of all my conversations with the general,” Milleepon said. “I’m sure you’ll find them useful. However, I would appreciate it if you didn’t explain how you came by the recordings.” “Of course,” Mal Ton assured. Why would an arms’ dealer hand Bryson to them on a silver platter? Fane wanted to accept it at face value, but generally when things seemed to be too good to be true, they were. It seemed to take forever for Cassie to walk down the hall. Fane sensed her approach and opened the door with his mind.
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“What’s going on?” she asked as she stepped into the office. “Watch this.” He started the clip over from the beginning. The shock and horror in her expression couldn’t be feigned. This was new to her. “When did this take place?” “Yesterday,” Milleepon told her. “They must have injected her with my nanites,” Cassie pressed her hand to her throat, clearly upset by the new evidence of her father’s treachery. “That’s how she’s absorbing the power, but how were the canisters charged? Are they kidnapping mutants? I don’t understand how they made this work.” “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” Fane said to Milleepon, “but why did you bring this to us?” She looked at Mal Ton and smiled, her gaze filled with secrets. “I owed him one. Besides, there are too many potential complications inherent in the concept. A biological host is always problematic. If the nanites could be altered to work in a cyborg, I might be interested.” “Does Bryson know you’re not interested?” “Actually, I’ve arranged a live demonstration.” She handed Mal Ton a translucent piece of plastic. “Here’s an invitation to Governor Lanartin’s inaugural ball. Security is guaranteed to be a challenge, but Bryson promised to put on a show. This is likely the only opportunity you’ll get, so make the most of it.” “Thank you doesn’t begin to cover it,” Mal Ton said. “Then say my debt is paid in full,” she suggested with another knowing smile. “I never considered it a debt, but I’m more than grateful.” Mal Ton escorted her to the door. “You have plans to make.” She waved him back. “I’m perfectly capable of finding my way back to my ship.” Mal Ton kissed her hand then stepped back as the door slid close behind her. Fane located a specter and told him to discreetly follow their guest. After sensing the soldier’s acknowledgement, Fane returned his attention to Mal Ton and Cassie. “This could easily be a setup. Can we trust her?” “I don’t know.” Mal Ton leaned his shoulder against the wall, remaining by the door. “Do we have a choice? We have to try to snag Karris at the very least.” “Bryson gains nothing by tipping his hand,” Cassie said. “For that matter, what does your friend gain by bringing this to us?” “Bryson could be paying her to flush us out,” Fane suggested. “Bryson knows how to find us. He knocked on your front door and told you Max had kidnapped Cassie.” “I think she was for real,” Cassie decided with a helpless shrug. “Nothing else makes sense.”
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“What did she owe you?” Fane asked Mal Ton. Mal Ton heaved a sigh and stepped away from the wall. “I basically saved her life. She doesn’t seem to care that my primary motivation was saving my own ass.” “This might be what we need to turn the tide.” Fane tried not to sound too hopeful. “I’ve been exchanging information with Director Krentz—” “Head of the Interplanetary Consortium?” Fane responded with a nod, so Cassie said, “The consortium never intervenes in global conflicts. They offer moderation, but they refuse to take sides.” “That’s not true. They stepped in when the Ceraton rebels took over the capital. The consortium defused the coupe before it turned bloody,” Mal Ton reminded. “They only act when corruption is irrefutable and when it involves the highest level of world government.” Fane sighed. “It’s the irrefutable part we’re combating. Krentz knows the deceit is real, but he can’t take official action until we prove it.” “Milleepon’s recordings should help with the proof. And if the demonstration is real, we’ll catch them red-handed.” Determination gleamed in Mal Ton’s gaze. “We can’t lose sight of Karris. Regardless of what they’ve done to her, she is still a victim.” Fane looked at Cassie, trying to unravel the emotions shaping her expression. She had accepted her father’s treachery, but the realization still stung. “When is the ball?” Her voice was soft and carefully controlled. Mal Ton glanced at the invitation. “Day after tomorrow.” She shook her head and looked at Fane. “That’s not a lot of time to pull this thing together.” “All we can do is hope for the best and prepare for the worst,” Fane said. Mal Ton laughed. “Isn’t that always our strategy?”
***** A slow smile parted Nehalem’s lips. Monitoring Bryson’s comlink was tedious at best. Her father had originally bugged the connection while he determined whether or not Bryson was worthy of his only daughter. She’d asked that he leave the access point in place and he’s reluctantly agreed. It wasn’t right for a wife to spy on her husband, but he’d always doted on Nehalem. If her failed marriage wouldn’t have brought shame upon his house, she would have returned to her father long ago. Returning now wasn’t an option. She had to secure a future on her own. She pushed away the past and backed up the recording, listening to the exchange for the third time. “The final simulation went off without a hitch.” Bryson’s voice wasn’t modulated, unlike the person on the other end of the comlink. “You have the menu selections?” the distorted voice replied.
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“Yes, sir.” There was only one person Bryson called sir. Howyn! “It’s probably best if we meet you there.” “Do you need an invitation?” “No, sir. Our…acquaintance took care of everything.” “Until tomorrow.” Unbelievable! She’d located the confirmation of the next demonstration and she had the exchange recorded. Was it damning enough for blackmail? Probably not. It would depend what Chrysalis One did at the party. “What was that about?” Max asked from behind her. She deactivated the recording and turned around, debating how much to tell him. Shae had mentioned an exclusive gala, so Nehalem had done some digging. There were four elite galas this weekend, but only one was tomorrow night, the inaugural ball. Ambition and ruthlessness lit Max’s gaze. She’d seen that expression too many times before. A month ago she would have told him everything and counted on his greed to keep her safe. Boy, had she learned from her mistakes. “I’ve bought you a new identity and a ship to take you anywhere you want to go.” She smiled, tilting her head so her hair caught the light. “All it will cost you is a slice of your power. I need to be able to teleport by tomorrow night, so we better get started.” “Why don’t you just tell me what you’re after and I’ll go get it for you.” She laughed. “Do you honestly think I’m that stupid?” “You were never stupid.” He stalked toward her, lust igniting within his green eyes. “A bit too trusting, perhaps, but never stupid.” “Prison cured me of a lot of things.” She turned her back before he saw the calculation in her gaze. She’d made no arrangements for him. There was no ship waiting to whisk him away to a new life. She would fuck him as many times as he could get it up between now and tomorrow afternoon. Then she’d mist him with a paralytic and slit his throat. Max’s body would be found in her bed, but no trace of Nehalem Bryson would ever be found again. While her ex-husband and Howyn played with their new toy, she’d teleport into the lab and gather everything she’d need to become the new Chrysalis. When her ability to collect mutant powers combined with Chrysalis amplification, there would be nothing she couldn’t do! He wrapped his arms around her and cupped her breasts. She forced herself not to flinch. “Try not to enjoy this too much.” He rocked his cock against the small of her back. “I know you’re only in it for my power.”
*****
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Cassie found herself avoiding Fane. Even in bed she pretended to be exhausted and curled on her side with her back to him. She didn’t agree with his refusal to let Allen map his DNA, but she understood his rationale. She was frustrated and she wasn’t sure how to resolve the conflict. Arguing was a waste of time. No one changed Fane’s mind when it came to the welfare of his people. Which left avoidance, the strategy of cowards. “How long are you going to keep this up?” Allen challenged the following afternoon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she grumbled. “Like hell you don’t. You’ve been sulking for the past two days.” “There’s a possible solution to our biggest obstacle, but Fane won’t even consider it.” “What’s the possible solution?” She couldn’t tell him. Fane would never forgive her if she broke his confidence. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not going to happen.” Allen stared at her in confused silence for a long moment. “All right. Then ditch the attitude and let’s get back to work.” “I can’t.” She threw up her hands, ready to pull her hair out by the roots. “Everything within me disagrees with his decision.” “Then talk to him about it. That’s what couples do.” “It won’t do any good.” “Fine! But take your mood elsewhere.” He pushed her toward the door. “You’re distracting me.” Annoyed yet amused by Allen’s sudden assertiveness, she wandered down the corridor. How could she convince Fane to reconsider his position? Perhaps she could approach it from a different perspective and help him see that there was a compromise. Ostan stepped out of the infirmary as she approached, a friendly smile on his pale face. “Can you spare a minute or two? Sarah would like to speak with you.” “She’s awake?” Excitement bubbled within her. The day had just taken a turn for the better. “I discontinued all sedation about three hours ago. She’s doing remarkably well.” “I’d love to meet her.” She followed Ostan into the infirmary and found Sarah sitting up in bed. She was holding a steaming mug between her hands, but she still looked rather frail. A veil concealed the worst of her deformities. Even so, Cassie focused on Sarah’s bright green eyes. “Ostan says I owe you my life,” Sarah said after Ostan made the introductions. “Allen had more to do with it than I did.” “But you brought him here.”
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She couldn’t argue with that, though she wondered why Sarah was ignoring Allen’s participation. Had he insulted her in some way? To her knowledge they had yet to meet. “I’m relieved to see you’re feeling better.” “Will I have another relapse or is the change permanent?” “We’re hoping it’s permanent, but we’ll have to wait and see.” She crossed her arms over her chest and nibbled on her lower lip. Did she dare ask Sarah what she was dying to ask her, or would Fane think the question underhanded? “Ask me. I won’t tell.” Cassie shook away her shock. She’d been in the Underground long enough to guard her thoughts. What was wrong with her today? “If your scars could be repaired but you would lose your abilities, would you want to have the procedure?” “The mutation is ongoing. Even if you could repair the damage, the deformity would return.” “This is a hypothetical situation,” Cassie said. Unless her pigheaded lover gave in, it was hypothetical. “I’m curious about your priorities.” “If I’d known exactly what it would cost me to see glimpses of the future, I wouldn’t have hesitated.” Sarah’s vehemence shocked Cassie and it must have showed. Sarah laughed, her breath ruffling her veil. “We live in very different worlds, Dr. Myer. Prophetic dreams are far more valuable than a pretty face when you live in the Underground.” “But what if you didn’t have to live in the Underground?” “No one is forcing me to stay here. Everyone I care about is here.” Cassie nodded though she suspected Sarah’s appearance had a lot more to do with the choices she’d made than she was willing to admit. “It was nice talking with you. Do you need anything?” “She needs to rest,” Ostan supplied. Sarah objected and Cassie slipped out of the room while Ostan took over the conversation. Cassie had expected a meek victim when she’d first seen Sarah. The young woman had far more spirit than Cassie had thought possible. Her steps automatically led her to Fane’s apartment. She didn’t quite think of it as her room, even though she’d slept there every night since coming to the Underground. Of course, that hadn’t been that long ago. She stepped into the darkened room and froze. Fane had just come out of the bathroom. He was drying his hair with a towel, completely unconcerned with his nudity. “Hey,” he greeted. “Hey yourself.” His slow, sexy smile never failed to curl her toes. “The bathroom’s nice and steamy if you want to jump in the shower.”
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“Is that an invitation or a request?” “An observation. I’d rather bathe you with my tongue.” Heat rolled through her, sinking deep into her belly and settling between her thighs. Damn the man was gorgeous. Just the sight of him was enough to make her all weak and tingly. Still, she wanted the tension between them put to rest. “Sarah’s awake,” she said. “I talked to her a few minutes ago.” “I know. I saw her earlier.” “She told me she wouldn’t want a cure even if it fixed her face.” He chuckled as he strolled toward her. “And I was just thinking it might not be such a bad idea to have a few more options available to us.” “Really?” All the tension flowed out of her with the warmth of his smile. “What made you change your mind?” His gaze caressed her face, lingering with obvious longing on her mouth. “The only chit stubborn enough to argue with Mal Ton and me at the same time.” “I wasn’t arguing, exactly. I just didn’t understand your hesitation.” A bit of his playfulness fell away. “I’m still hesitant.” Now was the time for compromises. He needed to know that she understood the full scope of the issue. “I thought of a way to protect you while offering Allen the information he needs.” “Did you now?” He captured a wisp of her hair and rolled it between his features. “We’ll give him a sample of your DNA without telling him where it came from.” One of his brows arched as he asked, “Will he let it go with that?” “I’ll make sure he does.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed the tip of her nose. “Then I’ll give you the sample.”
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Chapter Ten The following day dawned dark and stormy, though no one in the Underground seemed to care. Cassie tried to concentrate, but her mind kept racing on to the night ahead. Fane would pose as the ambassador from Saronta and she would be his consort. They both would be carefully disguised so no one would recognize them until they were ready to be recognized. Mal Ton and a team of specters would remain unseen until or unless they were needed. Best-case scenario, they would recover Karris alive so Cassie and Allen could reprogram her nanites. Cassie didn’t want to think about a worst-case scenario. Bryson and Howyn had to be exposed. Howyn, she sighed. When had she stopped thinking of him as Father? “Are you all right?” Allen asked. “You seem distracted.” “I am. There are so many things that could go wrong tonight.” “But so much could be accomplished.” He offered an encouraging smile. “I know. I’m just… I’m not looking forward to facing down my father.” “That’s understandable.” “I see him a lot more clearly now.” That was the understatement of the century. Fane’s memories had given her an inescapable sampling of her father’s true personality. “I understand all the lives he’s destroyed, but he was never cruel to me. I…” “He’s your father.” Allen reached over and squeezed her hand. “If Fane can’t understand that, he doesn’t deserve you.” “Fane’s been wonderful. This is all me.” Allen nodded and returned his attention to his monitor. Mapping Fane’s DNA had kept him up all night. “Are you sure you aren’t ready for a break? You’re looking a bit rough around the edges.” He smiled. “I wish you’d let me examine the donor. He has to be extraordinary.” “That’s not going to happen,” she said with absolute finality. “Fane went way out on a limb just to get us the sample. That’s as far as our cooperation goes. Besides, your curiosity is just that. You don’t need to examine the donor to complete your research.” “True.” He rubbed his eyelids and sighed. “Maybe I will lie down for a while. I’ve been seeing double for almost an hour.” They parted ways in the corridor. Allen went off toward the barracks while Cassie went in search of Fane. She found him in the lobby with a garment bag folded over his arm. He was talking with a group of men, so she hung back.
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“Ah, Cassie. Let me introduce our backup for tonight.” He motioned her over with his free hand. “This is Eric, Thom and Jordan. They’re the specters Mal Ton mentioned yesterday.” She shook their hands in turn, noticing that they had similar features and coloring. “Are you related?” “Eric and Thom are brothers. Jordan is their cousin,” Fane explained. “The specter mutation has always run in our family,” Thom told her. Another fascinating fact Allen might find useful. She’d tell him about the pattern the next time she saw him. “So what’s in the bag?” she asked as the others moved away. “Our costumes for tonight. It’s been a long time since I played dress-up.” They showered together, cuddling beneath the warm spray. Fane hardened against her belly and she wiggled away. “We don’t have time for this.” “There’s always time for this.” He turned her around and eroded her hesitation with his fingers and the heated slide of his wet skin. His touches were focused, purposeful. She braced herself against the wall in front of her, knowing the battle was already lost. When Fane set his mind on seduction, there was no power in the universe that could keep him from his goal. He teased her nipples and stroked her breasts while his mouth moved against the side of her neck. She rubbed against him, anxious and restless for the fullness of his body joined with hers. His fingers parted her folds and gently rolled her clit. Tingles turned to shivers and shivers to deep pulsations of need. “Now,” she pleaded. “I want you inside me now.” He chuckled. “I thought there wasn’t time.” She moved her legs apart and waited, wet hair streaming across her face. He guided his cock to her entrance then grasped her hips. With one forceful thrust he filled her completely. A muffled cry escaped her lips and she tightened herself around him. “That feels so fucking good.” He pulled back then drove deep. “But you’re still distracted.” “No, I’m not. I’m here with you. All of me.” She closed her eyes and focused on the steady slide of his cock. Her inner muscles gripped him snugly and her legs wobbled as anxiety rippled through her mind. So much was resting on tonight. Should they really be— “There you go again.” He didn’t sound angry, just intent on making his point. “I guess this calls for drastic measures.” Without separating their bodies, he filled his palm with conditioner and arched away from her. His shaft slid back, almost out of her pussy. What was he going to do with the conditioner? A wicked chuckle escaped his throat as he answered her silent question. He smeared the conditioner into her ass crack and slathered it over her anus. 127
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“Fane?” She craned her neck, concerned if not actually afraid. “I won’t hurt you. Surely you know that by now.” His fingers slid up and down, sliding in the slippery conditioner. One hand circled her hips and covered her mound. His long middle finger rubbed over her clit, arousing and distracting her as he repositioned his cock. Anticipation clawed through her uncertainty. Having him moving in her ass had been amazing in their shared dream. She smiled. He had her undivided attention, if nothing else. He pulled her away from the wall and tipped her forward, bending her from the waist to give him a better angle. Each movement brought them closer to the ultimate joining. She braced her arms against the wall and tried not to tense. Sliding easily in the conditioner, he circled her opening, pushing firmly as her body spread before him. Tight. Wider and wider she stretched around him. “Push back. Take me deeper.” She felt off balance and dizzy, but his hands held her steady. Slowly she pushed back and he drove inward. A startled cry slipped from her mouth and she tossed her head. Water sprayed out in glistening droplets. Reality narrowed, focused until only they existed. He drew back with infinite patience, allowing her to feel every millimeter of his hardness. Sensations danced along her nerve endings and crawled up her spine. “More,” she gasped, pushing herself onto him so he could repeat the blissful slide. Nothing had ever felt quite so sexual. Raw, savage, lustful. She gave herself over to the hunger, to the blazing heat coursing through her with each careful stroke. Too careful. She needed him to feel as primal as she felt. “Harder.” His fingers dug into her hips as he complied. Long, deep thrusts filled her more deeply than she’d imagined possible. She pushed to the balls of her feet and canted her hips, needing everything he had to give. His hand returned to her mound, his fingers accenting each stroke. Water flowed around them as their bodies arched and swayed. Heat swirled through her and poured out of her. His desire fueled hers as they passed sensations back and forth across their link. He moved faster then faster still. She gasped and tossed her head, lost in a maelstrom of sizzling pleasure. Tension gathered, drawing tight then springing free. Her orgasm crested as his last thrust drove her to her toes. His cock bucked inside her tight rear passage and he wrapped her firmly in his arms. “Now we know what it takes to drive all rational thought from your mind,” he whispered, and she couldn’t help but laugh. He scrubbed her with soapy hands, insisting he “repair the damage”. She in no way felt damaged, but his warm hands felt too good to refuse. She was flushed and sleepy by the time he turned off the water.
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They chatted happily while they dressed. She caught him up on their progress in the lab, his questions assured her he was listening. “Did you ever run the samples Andrea gave you?” “I ran them this morning. My preliminary findings indicate human and Stilox physiology are compatible. Of course we won’t know for sure until someone tries to conceive.” “I’ll let Roark know. He’ll be thrilled. So will Andrea. Her specialty is infertility. That’s how she became interested in genetics.” She shook out her gown and her reply scattered. “This is breathtaking. Where did you get it?” The deep brown fabric had an iridescent sheen that shimmered and flowed with hints of color. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.” “I hope it fits. We don’t have time to find you another.” “Let’s find out.” She stepped into the gown and held it in place while he fastened the back. The bodice hugged her torso and supported her breasts while the skirt flared dramatically in exaggerated pleats. “It’s perfect.” She adjusted the neckline over her cleavage and pulled on the matching gloves. “What do you think?” “I think it’s going to take a lot of makeup to keep people from recognizing you.” Her thoughts were much the same as Fane introduced her to Mallory, the woman who would facilitate their metamorphosis. She had an infectious laugh and loved to talk. Cassie sat back and let her carry the conversation. “Your skin is naturally fair, but the Sarontian ideal of beauty is almost colorless.” Cassie remembered Mal Ton’s petite friend and agreed with Mallory. Not only had the messenger’s hair been silver, her face had been incredibly pale. “The headpiece has a fringe of silver hair, so we won’t need a wig. Still, you’ll have to be careful not to rub off the makeup.” Mallory covered Cassie’s face, neck and arms, taking her skin tone from ivory to alabaster. Then she inserted contacts that added sparks of purple to Cassie’s dark gaze. “We can’t do much with the shape, so avoid eye contact when you can.” Cassie thought she looked like a massive porcelain doll until Mallory secured the headpiece over her hair. Silver tendrils framed her face and brought out the purple shards in her eyes. She searched the mirror, unable to locate her own features. “Wow,” Fane said. “That does the trick.” “I’m glad you approve.” Mallory smiled. “Now it’s your turn.” The process was more fun to watch than to undergo. “Sarontian men are as dark as their women are light. This shouldn’t take as long.” She deepened his skin tone with a bronzer and handed him a set of contacts. The film turned his irises black. “I like his natural color much better,” Cassie said. “There are no green-eyed Sarontians,” Mallory said as she pulled out a tube of some sort of gel. “You’ll have to put up with it for tonight.” She squeezed the gel into the palm of her hand and then worked it through his hair with a comb. Though the gel 129
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appeared colorless, it masked the red in his hair and deepened the shade from medium to dark brown. She combed the damp strands straight back from his face and secured the entire mass at the nape of his neck. The look was severe and menacing. “No one will question anything he says.” She laughed. “No one will dare.” Forty minutes later they sat side by side in a luxury cruiser. Mal Ton was posing as their driver for the time being. “How are the specters arriving?” she whispered the question to Fane, and he smiled. “Sorry. I feel like a teenager sneaking out of the house.” “Did you ever sneak out when you were a teenager?” His disbelief was obvious. “No, but I can imagine this is how it feels.” “The three specters can teleport. They’ll meet up with Mal Ton once we’ve gone inside.” She nodded and pressed her hand over her heart, trying to still its rapid thudding. “Relax, love. You’re going to smear your makeup.” He was right. She needed to calm down, but espionage was so far out of her comfort zone it was comical. She was a lab rat, a scientific recluse, more comfortable with equations and computations than with people. If you don’t relax, I’m going to slip my hand under your skirt and give you something else to think about. He passed a vivid image along with the thought and Cassie released her pent-up breath. That’s better. Now close your eyes and enjoy the fantasy. She let her lids close and rested her head against the seat. In her mind, he eased her back across the seat and lifted her skirt to her waist. He stroked her thighs and hips, exploring the bare skin between her stockings and her lace panties. His fingers glided up her inner thighs, brushed against her silk-covered sex and slid down the other side. She shivered and fidgeted, restless and needy. Are you relaxed? Distracted, not relaxed. Your touch has never been relaxing. He chuckled, the sound warm and evocative. We’ll have to play some more after we get inside. We’re almost there. She opened her eyes with a soft gasp and looked out the viewport beside her. She recognized the festival hall. She’d been here several times in her youth. The opulent ballroom and lush gardens made it a favorite for lavish celebrations. Cruisers and private shuttles lined the wide circle drive. Colored lights decorated the trees lining the walkway that led to the massive front entrance. “If they turn Karris loose at this party, how will she escape?” Despite Fane’s best effort, Cassie’s stomach was tied in knots. “Teleportation or invisibility. There’s no telling which ability she loaded.” “I wonder if she keeps each ability she loads, or if she can only hold a few at a time?” She shuddered. “It sounds as if we’re talking about a machine, not a person.”
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“Karris might once have been human, but make no mistake, Project Chrysalis has turned her into a weapon. You can’t allow yourself to forget what she’s become.” With a discouraged nod, Cassie turned back to the window. The hatch activated with a hiss, slowly lowering to the waiting sidewalk. Mal Ton, debonair in a black tuxedo, raised his hand to help her down the narrow stairs. Fane tucked her hand into the bend of his elbow and escorted her toward the front door. Lower your eyes and stay close. Sarontian women are demure and mysterious. She pressed his arm to her side and watched her skirt swish as they strolled along the walkway. They passed through the amo detector then Fane presented their invitation to the waiting attendant. After scanning the card, the attendant announced the arrival of the “Sarontian Ambassador and his companion”. Should we have provided him with fictitious names or is that how the Sarontian delegation would have been introduced? Sarontians value names far more than other races. They believe knowing someone’s name gives you control over them. They only reveal their names to those they know well and trust. They reached the entrance to the ballroom and Cassie’s steps faltered. A swirling sea of colorful gowns and smiling people spread out before her. This had once been her world, the privileged elite. So selfish. So myopic. They focused on pleasure and luxuries while the world around them crumbled. “Are you all right?” Fane squeezed her hand, drawing her gaze to his face. “I’m fine. This is just a little unnerving.” He slipped his arm around her waist, warm and supportive. The others are in place. We’re not alone. He’d misunderstood the cause of her discomfort, but that was all right. This was something she had to work through on her own. “Chancellor Martin Howyn of Protaria.” The attendant’s voice rang out over the assembly and Cassie’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. This was it. After tonight, the star system would know her father was a criminal and she would be free to live her own life. So why was she trembling? You’re looking panicked again. Shall we find a quiet corner where I can calm you down? She smiled and shook her head. I’m fine. I’m just anxious for this night to be over. Fair enough. He swept his hand toward the dance floor. “Shall we?” “I didn’t know you could dance.” He took her in his arms and merged with the undulating crowd. His steps were light and sure, his hold firm without clutching. “I’m impressed.” He bent toward her, and whispered, “My entire life hasn’t been lived underground.” She relaxed in his light embrace, soothed by the familiar. Couples twirled around them with a rhythmic ebb and flow.
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Bryson’s sitting against the wall. She started to look, but he stopped her. Don’t turn your head. I’ll spin us around. Sure enough, the general sat near the exit, seemingly watching the dancers. Do you see Karris? Would she be out in the open or hiding somewhere? Cassie wasn’t sure if her mind was still functional. Not yet. He pulled her close, his breath warming her cheek. Don’t search with your eyes. Open your mind and see if you can sense her. Her abilities didn’t work like that, but she wasn’t about to argue with him. Looking around might draw someone’s attention. Besides, it was making her dizzy. I’ve got her. She’s standing by the beverage table in a deep blue dress. Cassie waited until Fane spun her around to locate their target. Karris’ aloof expression was mirrored all around the room. Raising a champagne flute to her lips, Karris scanned the crowd with her assessing gaze. Shouldn’t we take her now before someone gets hurt? What little calm she’d garnered from the dance dissolved in an icy rush. Who was Karris’ target? Could they stop her before Karris completed her mission? Our proof must be irrefutable. Krentz was clear about that. To move against someone as powerful as your father, every detail must be in order. Fane led her to the edge of the dance floor and they carefully stepped apart. From this angle Cassie could only see Karris from the shoulders up. Karris pivoted to the right and extended her arm, likely setting down her champagne glass. Mal Ton report. We’re in place. She might not know it, but she’s surrounded. I need you to break off and cover Bryson. The specters can handle Karris. Copy. Without explanation, Fane took her hand and led her through the people congregated around the dance floor. Cassie realized their destination a moment before they arrived. Her father was speaking with a lavishly dressed couple she didn’t recognize. He nodded and smiled, but his gaze darted again and again toward the beverage table. He’s downright jittery. Cassie drew comfort from his unrest. He should be nervous. His entire world was about to come crashing down on him. The show must be about to start. “Could you please excuse me?” He inclined his head respectfully then turned around. His gaze collided with Cassie’s. He offered an automatic smile then narrowed his gaze. Whatever he’d been about to say was lost in the mayhem that followed. Karris launched an energy pulse directly at the newly inaugurated governor. The guests screamed and scattered, rushing for the exits. Thom appeared a step away from Karris
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and absorbed the pulse with his body. He defused the energy through his fingers and sent it streaming into the marble floor. Karris raised her hand to try again, but the other two specters appeared. They locked hands with Thom, surrounding her with a living containment field. Bryson rushed for the exit only to collide with Mal Ton. A wicked smile parted Mal Ton’s lips as he punched Bryson squarely in the face. Howyn’s reaction was much the same. He bolted for the door. Fane grabbed one arm and Cassie grabbed the other, bringing him up short. Howyn’s guards drew their weapons and leveled them on Cassie and Fane. “Call them off, Father. We’re not going to hurt you.” Much, Fane amended mentally. “Don’t fire,” Howyn shouted, his gaze searching her face. “Cassie?” The melee continued around them, people pushing and shoving in an effort to evacuate. Karris fired again, inciting a fresh rush of panic. The governor’s guards formed a concentric circle around the specters. Karris hardly noticed. She threw herself at the specters, screaming at the pain only to lunge again. Mal Ton, make Bryson call her off, Fane ordered. She’s going to kill herself trying to complete her mission. Cassie looked across the room to see if Mal Ton heard Fane’s directive. With Bryson’s arm bent up behind his back, Mal Ton pushed the general toward the crowd gathering around Karris. “Get your hands off me,” Howyn snapped, drawing her attention back to her struggling father. “What is the meaning of this?” “We’re on to you, Howyn. Drop the bullshit.” Fane tugged him toward the beverage table. “This is the man who kidnapped my daughter.” Howyn jerked against Fane’s restraining hold. “Arrest him at once!” Cassie let go of his arm and stepped in front of Fane as the guards lunged for Fane. “He’s lying. This man rescued me. He has done nothing wrong.” The guards hesitated, holding position without lowering their weapons. “Call her off, you depraved son of a bitch!” Mal Ton’s angry cry snapped Cassie’s attention toward the disturbance. Karris continued to throw herself against the energy barrier. Blood trickled from her nose and countless burns and bruises discolored her skin. She looked at Fane, and he said, “Go. Shut her down.” Cassie pushed her way through the fascinated guards and positioned herself between Thom and Eric. “Next time she comes this way let me through.” “Are you sure?” Thom didn’t take his eyes off Karris. “Both her hands are charged and ready to fire.”
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“I’m sure.” Karris screamed in frustration and agony as she connected with the barrier. She paused for a second then turned toward Cassie. Karris’ gaze narrowed and the glow of energy surrounding her hands intensified. She lowered her head and charged. The specters broke rank and Cassie extended her hand, jabbing Karris in the chest with her index finger. Karris howled and swung for Cassie, but Thom and Eric snatched her back. Karris wobbled, her body swayed and then her knees buckled. She collapsed in the middle of the specters and Cassie sighed. “Nice work,” Thom said, and hesitantly patted Cassie’s back. “You’re one demented fuck,” Mal Ton snarled at Bryson. “You would have stood here and watched her fry.” “I know nothing about this…mutant. Why don’t you ask their king?” He nodded toward Fane with a smirk. “We have multiple communications between you and a potential buyer,” Fane said in a calm, conversational tone. “Copies of all our intel have been turned over to Director Krentz at the Interplanetary Consortium. He intends to launch a full-scale investigation.” “Is this true, Bryson?” Howyn stepped forward, his face a mask of indignation. “I knew you were obsessed with these humans but…” He looked at Fane and shook his head. “I had no idea he had taken things so far.” Fane laughed, but Cassie could sense the fury seething beneath his surface calm. “Do you honestly expect us to believe you had no knowledge of Bryson’s actions?” “Believe what you like. I’m sure the investigation will reveal my innocence.” Cassie covered her mouth with her hand as dread washed over her. Her father was far too smart to involve himself in something illicit without a scapegoat waiting in the wings. “I’ll offer my full cooperation in exchange for amnesty,” Bryson said, his infuriated gaze focused squarely on Howyn. “That bastard orchestrated every move I made. There is no way I’m taking the fall for this!” “It’s out of my hands.” Fane turned toward a tall, dark-haired man waiting beyond the clutter of people. “Director Krentz, I don’t envy you this tangle.” Krentz gave a soft command and a small army filed into the room from every available doorway. His men disarmed the other soldiers with silent efficiency. Karris was loaded onto a hovercart and taken away. Cassie moved toward the newcomer, unable to let the situation slip beyond their control without a little more information. “Director Krentz, perhaps Bryson could demonstrate his willingness to cooperate by telling us the location of the lab.” “And if he has a way to track the other human,” Mal Ton added. “I need the frequency if he tagged her.”
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Bryson’s lips twitched, but he managed to suppress his smile as he looked at Mal Ton. “Brianna is a wild one. Did she slip away from your man too?” “Answer the question.” Mal Ton took a menacing step toward the general. “Sorry. You’re on your own. I had no idea she’d be foolish enough to run, so I didn’t think to tag her.” Mal Ton accepted the information with a disappointed nod. “And the lab?” Fane prompted. “Is this the beginning of a deal?” Bryson asked the director. “I need to evaluate the value of your information before I can tell you what I’m willing to offer.” “This is outrageous!” Howyn moved forward and Krentz’s men pressed in around him. “I will not be treated like a criminal and I will not let the lies of a desperate man incriminate me.” “His testimony alone will incriminate no one,” Krentz assured. “All decisions will be rendered on the evidence.” “Oh, I’ve got evidence,” Bryson said. “I’m not nearly as incompetent as Howyn thinks.” “Please give us the location of the lab.” Krentz raised his brow expectantly. Bryson recited the address then Krentz’s men led him away. Howyn’s exit was not nearly so uneventful. He tugged and shouted, screaming in fury and frustration as Krentz’s men dragged him across the ballroom. “Cassie, this is wrong! Why are you among my accusers?” She took a step forward, but Fane placed his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t listen to their lies!” Howyn lunged for the archway as they reached the exit. “Call my lawyer!” Cassie shook her head as her father’s last request echoed off the ceiling. “That was seriously awkward.” Director Krentz looked at her with compassion shining in his eyes. “His fingerprints are all through the information I’ve received so far and I’ve just scratched the surface.” “I know. The show was for my benefit, a desperate attempt to recapture my support.” Krentz turned to Fane. “This operation was an undeniable success. We captured the primary players, turned one against the other, and accomplished it all without loss of life.” “We’d like to take Karris back to the Underground,” Fane replied. “We’re better equipped to deal with her injuries.” “If you’re willing to allow one of my men to tag along.”
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“That’s an acceptable compromise.” They shook hands and Krentz departed. As soon as the director was out of earshot, Fane turned to Thom, and said, “Follow them to the lab. I don’t have a problem with their collecting the evidence. I just want to make sure they don’t miss anything.” “Consider it done. They’ll only know I’m there if there’s a problem.” Thom stepped into the shadow realm and disappeared. “That is so cool,” Cassie muttered. “Maybe, but I remember him stepping aside while you dealt with Karris,” Fane reminded. She smiled, warmed by the praise. “We all played a part.” “Which is the foundation for any successful mission,” Mal Ton agreed. Fane slipped his arm around her waist and led her out into the cool night air. “Who will take over for your father?” “Harold Lansford, at least for the interim. I’m sure the council will call for an election once Krentz has finished cleaning house.” “Harold?” Mal Ton mused. “Wasn’t that the name of Milleepon’s contact?” Fane shook his head. “The audio files were positively identified as Bryson. It was just an alias.” “I hate coincidences. I’ll make sure Krentz knows about the anomaly.” Mal Ton activated the hatch for them then went around to the front of the ship. Fane and Cassie settled into the plush seats in the passenger cabin and waited for the subtle pressure indicating takeoff. “This was one hell of a night,” Fane scrubbed his face with his hand, smearing the carefully applied bronzer. “I can’t wait to take a shower.” She smiled as she remembered what they’d done in the shower earlier. “And I can’t wait to get out of these clothes. The gown might look amazing, but it’s uncomfortable.” “You can take it off now.” He grinned. “I don’t mind.” “I’d only have to put it back on, unless you want me to parade through the Underground naked.” He chuckled and rubbed his eyes hard enough to dislodge his contacts. “I doubt anyone would mind, but I’d rather reserve your exhibitionist tendencies for private demonstrations.” “I agree.” She took a minute and unpinned the headdress, eager to be rid of the confinement and the weight. “Ah, that’s better.” She tossed the decoration aside. Fane, you are not going to believe this. The frustration in Thom’s tone made Cassie look at Fane. What now? Fane asked with a sigh. I gather this isn’t good news. Someone cleaned out the lab. Everything is gone! The strangest part is we’re pretty sure Bryson didn’t know about it. Krentz thinks this was a double cross.
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Any suspects? Fane rubbed the bridge of his nose, obviously frustrated. It’s too soon to know. Krentz said he’d keep you in the loop. Thanks for the update. “This complicates the hell out of treating Karris,” Cassie said. “I was hoping for some background data on exactly what they’ve done to her.” “Don’t you just need to reprogram her nanites?” “It’s more complicated than that.” “In what way?” “The program I wrote would have allowed her to absorb the energy, but I’m not sure how she converted that energy into actual abilities. That smacks of genetic manipulation.” “Which puts us in Allen’s arena?” “Exactly.” They were silent for a moment. Speculation made Cassie’s mind race. Sarah was stabilized but not yet fully recovered. Roark would bring Lorelle out of stasis as soon as her treatment reached Stilox. Roark and Andrea would be thrilled to learn that their physiology was compatible for conception, and Allen’s involvement had opened up a whole new level of possibilities. It was staggering to think about all the changes that had developed since Max snatched her from her apartment. “Has Allen harassed you about the mysterious donor?” Fane’s question drew her back to the present. “He mentioned that he would really like to examine the person, but I let him know in no uncertain terms it would never happen.” He smiled and reached for her hand. “My hero.” “I know what you risked by compromising on this and I’m going to uphold my end of the bargain.” “Bargains.” He blew out a ragged sigh. “My bargaining position was obliterated tonight.” He raised her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I’m a man of my word, so you are free to go whenever you want—if you want.” “Free to go where?” She stared into his eyes and opened her mind, revealing the depth and intensity of her devotion to him. “You destroyed my illusions and dismantled life as I knew it. You changed everything.” He cupped the side of her face with his free hand and smiled. “You make that sound like a bad thing.” Affection and tenderness pulsed back from him, every bit as consuming as her emotions. “It was painful and overwhelming, but I wouldn’t go back, even if I could.” His lips pressed over hers, the kiss slow and caressing. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” She returned the tender kiss. “I’m starting to realize.”
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“What can I do to help you understand?” She smiled, happy tears gathering behind her lashes. “Just keep me by your side.”
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About the Author Aubrey Ross writes an eclectic assortment of erotic fiction. From power struggles between futuristic clans to adventurous mystic guardians, her stories are filled with passion and imagination. Some of her recent awards include an EPPIE finalist, two Passionate Plume finalists and a CAPA nomination from the Romance Studio. With a pampered cat curled on the corner of her desk, Aubrey dreams up fascinating words and larger than life adventures—and wouldn’t have it any other way! Aubrey welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and e-mail address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Aubrey Ross Crimson Prey Crimson Thrall Dream Warriors Sensual Captivity 1: Shifter Sensual Captivity 2: Seducer Soul Kisses Velvet Deception
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