by Cynthia Eden
Bryce King.
“Footsteps are coming this way,” Sawyer said with a sharp wave of his hand toward the mouth of the alley. “I think we need to get the hell out of here, right now.”
She couldn’t just leave. Aaron was shattering before her eyes. Benjamin’s hands were covered in Aaron’s blood, literally. Benjamin had saved her, but if she left him in that alley, with Aaron—what would happen?
She pushed at Flynn’s chest. “Go.”
He blinked. “Oh, sweetheart, the hell, no, you didn’t just say that.”
“C-cops…”
“Let them come.” He pulled her close. “And every single time you talk, it makes me want to rip apart that fucking FBI bastard.”
“N-not him…”
At least, she didn’t think it had been his fault. She wouldn’t know until she talked more with him. Until she had a chance to really question him and figure things out.
“Uh, yeah, hate to break this to you,” Benjamin rocked forward onto the balls of his feet. “But it was most definitely him. I know you like men with an edge, Cecelia love, but, sorry, this one’s a real freak.”
He didn’t understand, but she thought—hoped—Sawyer and Flynn did.
Sawyer and Flynn were silent, yet she suspected they were communicating plenty. Just on their own frequency.
Then Sawyer gave a grim nod. “Fine, but I don’t like it.”
His words confirmed her suspicions.
“I’ll look for the woman,” Sawyer added. “You handle this shit.”
What woman?
“And remember your new name!” After that last shot, Sawyer rushed away. The guy moved so quickly he actually just seemed to vanish.
“That was, um, fast,” Benjamin sounded shocked.
The shocks were about to just keep coming.
Flynn’s fingers stroked over her neck once more. “Baby, I want to kill him.”
“D-don’t…n-need to know…”
“If Bryce was in his head?”
She nodded.
“Then we’ll find out before I kill him.”
The sirens were so loud. Almost right on top of them.
“This way!” A male voice shouted. “He was covered in blood—looked like a gunshot wound! I saw him run down this alley—”
Flynn pushed Cecelia behind his body. Benjamin stepped forward, too, with his arms raised. “I know that dumbass voice, and that bouncer is so getting fired.”
She peeked around Flynn and saw about four uniformed cops running toward them. All of the cops were armed, and the bouncer from Sin’s front door stood behind them, his hands tight fists at his side.
One of the cops yelled, “Don’t move!”
They already weren’t moving.
Another cop demanded, “What in the hell is happening here?”
And…
Aaron answered. “FBI Agent…ID…” He spat blood on the ground. “In my pocket…”
One of the uniformed cops hurried toward him, but the officer’s gun was still aimed at Aaron.
“Arrest…me,” Aaron gasped. “I attacked…her.”
Cecelia just stood there, watching, as the alley quickly turned into a crime scene around her. The police brought in lights, Aaron was cuffed and led away, and Benjamin told his account of the attack in a cold, flat tone.
“I entered the alley. I saw the FBI agent choking Cecelia Gregory—I knew who they were because they were both in my club less than half an hour ago. They were investigating a murder. A murder that involved a woman being strangled with a rope, so, hell, yeah, you put those puzzle pieces together, I sure as shit did.”
“Ma’am?” An EMT stood at her side. Young, African American, with kind eyes and a soft smile. “I need you to come with me to the ambulance.”
The cops had tried to get Cecelia’s story, but she’d barely been able to croak out a response. Flynn was currently being grilled by another cop.
She knew the FBI would be closing in soon, too. With one of their own involved, they’d swarm.
Aaron was in the back of the ambulance. But he was cuffed and a cop crouched at his side. Blood still poured from Aaron’s nose and his busted lips.
“I’m so sorry, Cecelia,” he cried when she drew closer to him. His eyes were on her throat. “I swear, I never meant—”
“Don’t say…anything…” It hurt to speak. But she didn’t want him to say more. Because if Bryce had been in Aaron’s head, they couldn’t let the cops around them know that fact. Like the cops would ever believe that story, anyway.
Aaron’s lips clamped together. But he was only silent a moment before he added, “It was like I went crazy…”
Another ambulance roared up to the scene. The flash of lights was almost blinding.
“Here,” the EMT said softly to Cecelia. “You go in this one. We want you separated from—” She broke off, wincing, but Cecelia understood.
From the man who’d attacked her.
She climbed into the back of the second ambulance.
“We’re going to take you to the hospital,” the EMT told her. “Get you checked out. Make sure there isn’t permanent damage to your throat.”
One of the ambulance’s back doors was slammed shut.
“Lay down on the stretcher.” The EMT waved to the white cushion. “Just relax—”
Flynn leapt into the back of the ambulance. “You’re not leaving without me.”
“Sir!” The EMT’s voice wasn’t soft any longer. “Get away from the victim! Get—”
“I’m her lover, and I’m not going anywhere.”
This time, the lover bit wasn’t a lie. Not just a cover. The truth.
She’d stretched out on the cushion. Her hand reached for Flynn. Their fingers twined together.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said again.
Chapter Eight
He wanted to rage. Wanted to roar his fury and rip apart his enemies.
Cecelia had been hurt. She’d been near death, and he hadn’t been there to save her. He’d been fighting behind a club while she’d been struggling to live.
He’d almost lost her. For a second time. He’d failed her—again.
“You okay?” Sawyer asked him.
Flynn’s gaze jerked toward the other man. They were back at Cecelia’s home. She was in the shower, he could hear the rush of water from upstairs. They’d answered dozens of questions from the cops and the FBI—or rather, they’d answered some questions and dodged others. Cecelia had tried to speak, but every time he heard her broken voice, rage had grown within him. “No,” he snapped back. “Far from it.”
Elizabeth stood near Sawyer, and she winced. “I read Cecelia’s medical reports and talked to the doctors at the hospital. There is no permanent damage. She’s going to be bruised and sore, and her voice won’t return to normal for a few days, but she’s okay.”
“I didn’t save her. I was supposed to keep her safe, but when she needed me most, I wasn’t there.” And that gutted him.
Sympathy flashed on her face. “I’m sorry.”
“If I’d found her body in that alley…if I’d gone there and she’d been cold and still on the ground, with the rope around her neck…” The image would not leave his mind. “I’m not sure what I would have done.”
That was a lie, though, because he knew.
Ripped my enemies to shreds.
Elizabeth slipped closer to him. She reached out and gave his arm a quick squeeze. “She’s going to be okay. She’s not dead. And you have stop thinking about what could have happened. Focus on what did. Focus on the fact that Cecelia is safe. She’s alive.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “She is tough, Flynn. She’s strong. Far stronger than I think you realize. She’s had to be, with her past—”
She broke off, clamping her lips together.
Did she think he didn’t know about Cecelia’s past? The attack that had changed her life forever when Cecelia had just been fifteen years old? Cecelia hadn’t shared full details of
her past with him, but he knew how to use a computer. He’d tried to find every bit of news on Cecelia that he could.
“She’s stronger than you realize,” Elizabeth said again, nodding.
“Bryce kept me in that alley while she was being attacked.” And he fully believed the bastard had gotten into Aaron Barrett’s head. If he’d gotten to an FBI agent, then Bryce could get to anyone.
Elizabeth and Sawyer shared a long look. “I thought Bryce could only influence emotions…”
“That’s the strength we knew about,” Flynn replied as he raked a hand through his hair. The shower was still thundering in the upstairs bathroom. “Maybe his powers have changed, evolved. Or maybe he was using the woman to help him with his sick games.” He frowned at Sawyer. “You couldn’t find her?”
“It was like she’d vanished into thin air.”
Dammit.
Elizabeth bit her lower lip. “Are you sure she was a Lazarus subject? I’ve been through Landon’s computer files, and I didn’t find any reference to a female test subject.”
Landon. Landon Meyer. One of the jerks who’d been in charge at Lazarus. Elizabeth had created the Lazarus formula, but Landon Meyer and Wyman Wright had taken her research and started testing their lab rats.
Once upon a time, Wyman Wright had ruled Washington, D.C. Oh, sure, the guy hadn’t been in the public eye. He’d been the puppeteer who ran things from the background. He’d controlled FBI Directors, CIA bosses, even the Oval Office.
But when the Lazarus facility in Arizona had gone up in flames, Wyman Wright had burned, too. Or at least…that was what everyone assumed. “Is Jay still looking for Wyman?”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, but everything points to him dying in the fires at Lazarus.”
Fires that had been set by Landon Meyer. Because Landon hadn’t been content with just experimenting on the test subjects. Once he’d seen just how powerful the Lazarus soldiers had become, he’d wanted those enhancements for himself. He’d even had himself killed just so he could be brought back in the Lazarus program.
“The woman was one of us,” Flynn confirmed with a curt nod. “She was faster than a normal human, stronger, and she’d been trained…hell, my money is definitely on a military background. If there’s no record of her in Landon’s files, then it’s just because he was trying to keep her secret. We don’t know how many Lazarus subjects there are, but she is definitely one of them.” The water had shut off upstairs. “Bryce was trying to make me seem like her enemy. Like I was part of Lazarus, and it was my fault that she’d become—hell, one of us.”
“He was manipulating her,” Elizabeth concluded.
“Yeah. That’s what he does, right? Even when I know he can influence my emotions, he still gets to me. That woman—he called her Willow—she doesn’t know what he can do. She’s at his mercy, and he’s going to use her. He knows Sawyer and I are a team. So why not level the playing field? Instead of two against one…”
“Now he has his own partner,” Sawyer finished curtly.
Flynn’s shoulders stiffened. “Exactly. We have to find her. Figure out if she’s like Bryce—” A twisted killer. “Or if—if she needs help.”
Elizabeth let out a soft sigh. “She may not want help.”
No, she might not.
“But we will find her.” Elizabeth squared her shoulders. “I’ll get Jay on the case. Maybe Willow is her real name, or, if she was in the military—and I’m with you, I bet she was because Landon loved using military personnel in his experiments—then perhaps Willow was a code name. We’ll get Jay to run a check on women who matched the physical description you gave us. Maybe we’ll get a hit.”
Maybe.
And I’ll keep looking, Sawyer promised him on their psychic link. I’ll go back to Sin tonight and search that whole area. Now that the cops are gone, it will be easier to hunt. I’ll make sure that my doc is safe with Jay and West, then I’ll tear this town apart.
“Thanks,” Flynn said. He headed for the front door. When Cecelia came out, he wanted to be alone with her. It was taking all of his strength not to run up to the bedroom and grab her right then.
Elizabeth walked toward him, then paused. “Cecelia isn’t a super soldier, but that doesn’t mean she’s weak.”
“I never thought she was.”
“Good.” She nodded approvingly. “Just didn’t want there to be any confusion.”
Sawyer gave him a little salute. He locked the door behind them.
Cecelia still hadn’t come out of the bedroom. He listened for a moment. She wasn’t moving around up there. Things were too quiet. He hurried up the stairs and rapped on her bedroom door. “Cecelia?”
No answer, but, shit, maybe she couldn’t answer. Her throat had been savaged.
He opened the door, and his gaze swept over her bedroom. She wasn’t in there, but light spilled out from the bathroom. He crept forward. “Cecelia?” Flynn didn’t want to scare her. His hand rose and pushed against the wood of the bathroom door. It swung open.
Steam drifted lazily. The air was hot against his skin. Thick.
Cecelia stood in front of the mirror. She’d wrapped a white towel around her body, and he could tell that she’d swiped the fog away from the mirror’s surface. Her hand was still pressed against the glass, and she stared at her reflection with wide, dazed eyes.
His gaze immediately fell to her neck. The redness had given way to bruising. Blue and black. A band that circled her throat. Just seeing those marks had fury coursing through him.
But she had other wounds, too. Scratches on her hands and arms. A bruise on her cheek. Her hair was wet, and it brushed over her shoulders. All of her makeup was gone, and she looked so young. So vulnerable.
“That wasn’t Aaron.”
He could hear the strain that talking caused her. He reached out for her. Flynn turned Cecelia in his arms. He pulled her close. “Baby, don’t talk right now.”
Her eyes gleamed with tears, but she blinked them away. She broke his heart. “It…wasn’t…”
“Let’s talk about it in the morning, after your throat has had a chance to heal some.” He wished he could give her some of his healing ability. His shoulder had already healed from the gunshot. Only a little stiffness remained. He got off easy, while his Cecelia suffered. It was wrong.
She stared up at him, and there was such pain and sadness in her eyes.
“I know,” he said softly. He bent his head and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “You think it was Bryce, controlling the FBI agent. It sure as fuck looks that way, too. We’ll go in to the FBI office tomorrow, we’ll talk to Aaron, and we’ll find out exactly what happened.”
Her breath whispered out. Her hands lifted and pressed to his chest. “Thank you.”
Why was she thanking him? “I didn’t get to you in time.” Dammit. That would haunt him, always, just as he’d always be grateful to Benjamin Larson. He owed the man more than he could ever repay. “I heard you call for me, and I ran to you as fast as I could. I wish I’d heard your scream sooner. I’m so sorry, baby.” His fingers slid down her throat, ever so carefully.
But Cecelia shook her head.
He stilled.
She didn’t want him touching her. Is that what she was trying to say? She wanted his hands—
“Didn’t…” She swallowed. “Scream for…y-you… C-couldn’t…”
But he’d heard her voice. So clearly. He’d…
Did I hear it? Or was she in my mind? His Lazarus bonuses had always been more of a physical nature. His senses were more enhanced than the other subjects, and his strength was second only to Sawyer’s. Flynn could heal faster than all of the other subjects who’d been in the Arizona Lazarus facility. But when it came to the psychic strengths, he wasn’t as powerful as Bryce. He couldn’t control normal humans. Random thoughts would slip into his head, thoughts that he picked up from people when they were really angry or scared.
Cecelia had been terrified.
“Take
me…bed…”
He lifted her into his arms. She smiled, and the sight was so sweet and beautiful.
He kissed her lips. Her perfect lips. Red and plump and sexy. Flynn carried her to the bed and carefully lowered her onto the mattress. The covers were already pulled back. The bed smelled like Cecelia. Vanilla.
She still wore the towel, and he wanted to pull it away. Wanted to slide into that bed with her and caress every inch of her body. But she might not want that. After the hell she’d been through that night, she might not want him.
He started to back away, but her fingers flew out and twined with his. “S-stay…”
Flynn nodded. He’d stay forever, if that was what she wanted. He sat on the side of the mattress, feeling it dip slightly beneath his weight. He bent over Cecelia, and his lips feathered over her throat. The softest of kisses. The most tender of caresses.
He was a super soldier. Designed to hunt, to strike, to kill. Sent out on jobs that were deemed suicide missions. After all, why not send out a dead man when the risks were so high? When he’d been in the Lazarus facility, he’d been a caged animal. Fury and darkness had plagued him.
And then he’d walked into her office. He’d met the shrink who’d been brought into Lazarus to help the subjects adjust to their new lives. He’d taken one look at her, and he’d wanted her more than anything. Even his freedom.
Her pulse jerked beneath his mouth. His head lifted. He stared into her eyes. “I want to take care of you.”
Her lips parted.
“Don’t talk, sweetheart.” Because when he heard the ragged sound of her voice, he wanted to kill. Maybe Aaron Barrett had just been a puppet, but Flynn still wanted to break the guy. “Save your voice, okay? Just nod…and let me know that what I want is good for you.”
She nodded as she stared at him. Her hand went to the top of the towel, and she pulled it free, exposing her body to his stare.
His Cecelia.
Stay in control. Stay easy. She didn’t need rough and wild. Didn’t need demanding and hard. She needed more than a desperate man falling onto her.
She needed tenderness. She needed care. She needed pleasure. He’d give her all of that. He’d give her everything that she could handle. Then he’d give her more.