by Deadly Game
He had never lusted after a woman the way he did Mari. His heart thudded so loud he thought it might burst through his chest. His blood heated to boiling, rushing through veins sizzling with fire, and spreading through his body to sensitize every nerve ending. His pulse thundered in his ears, roaring to bury his body into hers.
He would seduce her slowly, teasingly, lick and suck and bite her breasts and nipples. Just an edge of pain. She would stare up at him with her large eyes, a little shocked, but breathless with need, silently begging him for more—and he would oblige. He’d show her who her man was, ruin her for anyone else, make her crave his touch—the hot lick of his tongue over every inch of her body.
He wouldn’t be able to be easy when he took her; he’d struggle for control, but she’d be too hot, too tight, her velvet-soft muscles clamping around him as he plunged into her, driving hard, taking possession of not only her body, but her soul. She was his and he was going to make certain she knew it.
Mari could see erotic images dancing in her head. Her stomach muscles clenched hard, her womb spasmed. She couldn’t help but react to the desperate hunger in him. His was a dark seduction, rough and edged with violence, the images dominant and filled with raw lust. She swallowed several times, her mouth dry, her heart pounding as she met the sheer intensity of his silver gaze.
Her breath stilled, caught in her lungs as his gaze drifted possessively over her, hot and aroused and filled with naked desire. She could feel fingers stroking over her breasts, almost feel the bite of his teeth, the lap of his tongue teasing her nipples, fingers stroking her inner thighs until her body wept with need.
Stop it! Mari circled his neck with her arms, pressing closer so he could feel the hard peaks of her nipples. You’re killing me here. You can’t do this with the others here. We aren’t alone.
I can’t do this without them here. If we were alone, I’d strip you naked and eat you alive. God, Mari, do you have any idea how bad I want to lay you down and fuck your brains out? Damn it. That didn’t come out right. It’s more than that—far more than that. Because he wanted her to belong to him. He wanted to wake up every morning looking at her face, find ways to make her laugh, take years to know every facet of her personality. He didn’t know why, but that need was every bit as strong as the need to be deep inside of her.
He could smell her musky scent, calling to him. She was damp with need, reacting to his graphic fantasy and language. Instead of being afraid or repulsed, she was reacting. A part of him wanted to weep. Any woman should run screaming from his mutilated body. In his fantasy, the images in his head, he had been explicit, his cock scarred with multiple cuts, his balls covered with them. He hadn’t held back the need for rough sex, yet she wanted him. Just the thought of her wanting him made him so hard he thought he might burst, and each time her bottom slid seductively over the thick bulge in his lap, his blood pounded savagely.
Has it ever been like this for you before?
Ken could hear the sudden shy note in her voice. She was embarrassed to ask him, yet needed to know. He tunneled his fingers through the thick mass of gold- and platinum-colored hair. No.
What are we going to do about it?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m going to put as much distance between us as possible.
And I don’t have a say in your decision?
He bent his head to hers, buried his face in her hair and just held her close to him, savoring her scent and the softness of her body. You don’t know what you are, Mari. A gift. Something to treasure, something so precious I don’t dare take a chance on being around you. If I had you, even once, I’d never be able to let you go. He brushed a kiss in her hair, uncaring that his brother was watching. He had only a few more precious hours with her and then she’d be out of his life forever. He was going to take what he could get. I could never say these things out loud to you. It’d sound corny, and I’d feel like an idiot, but you need to hear them.
Maybe I’m not able to let you go, Mari ventured.
You have no choice.
CHAPTER 8
“She’s had two nosebleeds on the plane and we can’t get this one stopped,” Logan announced, racing to open the door for Lily. “Did you pull her file so we could match her blood type?”
Ken carried Mari in his arms, jogging after the dark-haired woman as she hurried down the hall to the small clinic in the giant laboratory complex.
“Jack or Ken can donate. They’re both the same blood type,” Lily answered, gesturing toward the beds. “Get her in here fast.”
Everything was happening so quickly, Mari didn’t have time to think about it. The moment her nose started to bleed, the men were on the radio talking to Lily Whitney, getting instructions and talking to one another in rapid code.
She knew they were worried when she was whisked from the plane and into a heavily armored car with tinted windows and they drove at breakneck speed to a heavily guarded facility. Ken placed her carefully on the bed, and she reluctantly let her arm drop from around his neck. The moment she was no longer in physical contact with him, she felt alone and vulnerable.
Lily Whitney walked with a limp and was very pregnant. She had dark hair and a worried look on her face. Still—she was Peter Whitney’s daughter—the one person the sadist megalomaniac seemed to care about. She sent a distracted smile toward Mari, obviously meant to reassure her. “Which of you is giving blood?”
Ken rolled up his sleeve. “Me.”
“Take the bed next to her. I’ve got to administer the antidote, but she’s going to crash and crash hard. I’ve got a team assembled, so don’t panic on me.”
“What do you mean crash?” Mari asked. She reached out instinctively to Ken, gripping his hand. “What does she mean?”
“There’s no time,” Lily snapped. “You’ve had the drug in your system too long. Your cells are breaking down. I’ve got to get the IVs in you right now. Don’t fight me on this.”
“Mari.” Ken’s voice was low and calm. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I’m going to be right here. Let her put the IVs in and give you the antidote.”
Mari tried to quell the panic rising rapidly. They were all afraid—especially Ken. He had that same expressionless mask he normally wore, but his eyes slashed at her in warning. He would force compliance if she didn’t stay calm and let them do this.
Terror reigned. She didn’t know them. She didn’t trust them—especially Peter Whitney’s daughter. She had known betrayal most of her life. Could all this be an elaborate plot of some kind?
Ken framed her face with both hands. “If you never trust me again, this one time, I’m asking you to put your life in my safekeeping. You’re going to crash as soon as Lily gives you the antidote, but you’ll bleed out if you don’t get it. We’ll bring you back. I swear to you, Mari, this is no trick.”
Lily didn’t wait for Mari to make up her mind. She was putting the IVs in her arm and one in each leg with astonishing efficiency. “Lie down on the bed beside Mari, Ken.” She flashed a small smile in Mari’s direction. It will help to keep her calm. We need her very calm. “I’m Lily. I’m sure you don’t remember me,” she said aloud.
“I know of you.” Mari tried not to wince when the needle went in. I hate needles, she confessed, ashamed. It’s so stupid really. I can break bones and shoot someone at a hundred yards without batting an eye, but I hate needles. She should be used to them; Whitney was always taking blood for something, or giving her shots, or strapping her to a table and adding to her genetic enhancements. He used her as the guinea pig much more often than the other women because he considered her difficult to control. She asked too many questions, incited the other women to rebellion.
She felt Ken settle in next to her, his weight making her body roll toward his. Their hips touched. His thigh slid along hers. The heat of his body warmed the cold of hers. She was instantly hyper-aware of him, of his masculine scent and his sheer strength—of the fact that she was a woman and he was a man.
“Relax, Mari.” His fingers tangled with hers.
Lily and another man were working to get bags of something thick and yellow into the IVs while someone else was sticking needles into Ken’s arm.
Tell me what’s happening.
Don’t panic. We’ll get you through this. Lily is really good. She’s studied this drug, because Zenith obviously can regenerate our cells, but after it’s been in our systems for a length of time, it begins to have a negative impact. The cells deteriorate at a very rapid rate, almost the same rate as healing occurs. He squeezed her hand to reassure her. Mass hemorrhaging occurs. She’s giving you the antidote fast, that’s why so many IVs. She’ll shoot some of the antidote into your muscles as well.
And that’s already happening to me. That’s why the leg keeps bleeding and now I’m getting nosebleeds. A frisson of fear crept down her spine. She could deal with anything if she knew what was happening. She would not panic. Why would he continue to give us the drug if he knew it would kill us?
The pad of Ken’s thumb brushed back and forth over her wrist. Blood began to run in a tube from his arm to hers. If you’re captured and can’t get to him, you die. It’s another protection in place for him. If you come back, he administers an antidote and no one is the wiser. If someone comes back late, he either saves them where no one can see or that person simply disappears. He wins any way you look at it. All of us are disposable.
I’ll bet Lily isn’t. Mari studied the face of the doctor’s daughter. She wore a look of total determination. No one was that good of an actress. Lily Whitney was totally focused on saving Mari’s life.
Has he talked about her lately?
No one gets that close to him—well—other than Sean. Sean’s a supersoldier, and Whitney keeps him around as a bodyguard.
There was that name again. Sean. Ken often caught glimpses of Sean in Mari’s mind. More than that, there was respect—admiration even. His gut twisted into hard knots at the mention of the man, and something dark and shadowy swirled in his brain.
Could I really die?
He brought her knuckles to his lips wanting to comfort her, not wanting to answer her, or think about the possibilities. She sounded forlorn, and vulnerable. His heart reacted with a strange shifting. There was more blood at the corner of her mouth. Ken ignored the way air rushed from his lungs, leaving him fighting to breathe. He refused to panic if Mari wasn’t. Lily would save her because there was no other choice.
If something happens to me, tell Briony I thought of her every day—that her happiness mattered more to me than anything else. Even in his mind, her voice sounded faraway, paper thin, as if she struggled to breathe, to live.
Ken went still, holding her hand tightly against his lips. Her skin was soft, even along the scar that split his lip. “You aren’t going to die, Mari. We won’t let that happen.” He said the words aloud because he wanted Lily to hear. He struggled to keep his voice even, calm, without a threat, when he knew he meant it as a threat—when everyone in the room knew it was a threat. His heart pounded in terror. He couldn’t lose her this way. He wouldn’t let Whitney win this battle. Mari had to live.
Lily put her hand briefly on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Ken. I understand.”
Maybe she understood, but he didn’t. He felt torn in two. Mari was virtually a stranger, yet he felt as if he knew her intimately. He had known the GhostWalkers for some time, many of them for years, but it was Mari he wanted to protect, Mari he needed to know was safe and alive and well somewhere in the world—even if it couldn’t be with him.
“How could he do this?” Ken bit out the question before he could stop himself, glaring at Lily, a sudden flash of anger shaking him.
Ryland, Lily’s husband, frowned, straightening slowly from where he was bent over Ken’s arm, making certain blood was flowing smoothly from one patient to the other. There was a certain threat in his manner.
Lily shook her head slightly to warn her husband not to interfere. “I don’t know, Ken. I’ve asked myself that question a million times. They say the line between genius and insanity is too fine to measure. And he’s deteriorating every day.”
“Why do you say he’s deteriorating?”
“He’s been hacking into our computers right from the day he disappeared. Flame found a way to get a program into his computer so we can spy on him. From his notations I can see that his mental state is slipping more and more with each new project. He’s so far from reality, I can’t even begin to guess what he might do next. I have no idea how we’re going to stop him.”
There was utter weariness in her voice. Lines of worry edged her young face. Her eyes held sorrow—too much sorrow and responsibility for a woman her age. Ken reached out to touch Lily’s hand. “I do.” He said it with conviction, wanting her to believe him, wanting to ease her suffering.
Mari caught his arm and tugged, the gesture weak but insistent. He turned his head toward her. She was glaring at him.
What’s wrong?
She blinked, her expression changing to one of confusion. I don’t know. I didn’t like that—you touching her—which is totally absurd. You were only comforting her, and her husband is right there, so it makes no sense to feel upset about it. She sounded puzzled and unguarded and suddenly very fragile.
Alarm spread through his body. Ken wanted to gather her into his arms and hold her tight, afraid of losing her. The life was already draining out of her. Blood trickled from her mouth and nose. I’m here, Mari, right beside you. I’ll get you through this.
I know you will. She tried to smile at him, but her eyes closed and she went limp.
“Damn it! I need more time. Jack, get over here,” Lily ordered. “We didn’t get enough of the antidote in.”
“Talk to me, Lily,” Ken snapped. “Tell me what’s happening.”
“She’s crashing!” Lily’s voice was tight. “Jack!”
Jack straddled Mari and began CPR while Lily grabbed a syringe with a very long and wicked-looking needle from the surgical tray.
“Open her shirt, Jack,” Lily instructed. She sounded calm and controlled.
She took Jack’s place, sitting on top of Mari, driving the needle through the chest wall straight into the heart to administer the stimulant.
Ken’s stomach lurched. For a moment there was silence. He heard the ticking of a clock. Lily’s breath. Someone shuffling their feet. Beside him, Mari wheezed, drawing in a hard lungful of air, her eyes flying open, terror on her face, her hand gripping his wrist as if her life depended on the contact, and then she went limp again.
Lily bent over her, feeling for her pulse, listening to her heart. “She’s back. Get the antidote in her and as much blood as we can. We may need you before this thing is over, Jack.”
While she worked on Mari, Lily kept glancing at Ken. “You said you thought you had a way to stop him. As long as he’s allowed to keep up his experiments, none of us are safe. Do you really have a plan?”
“I can control people’s actions with my mind,” Ken said, his gaze shifting toward his brother to catch the look of shock he knew would be there. Don’t admit you can do the same thing. You have Briony and the babies to think about.
“That’s not possible.” Lily stepped back, shaking her head, looking at him with sudden fear in her eyes. “He can’t have managed to find a way to do that.”
“You knew he was trying?” Ryland asked his wife gently. He reached for her, drew her into his arms, and held her, tenderness evident on his face as he tried to comfort her. Cleaning up after her father was taking a terrible toll.
“Of course. That would be the ultimate triumph, wouldn’t it?” She pulled away from her husband to go back to working on Mari, although her face was very pale. “There were many arguments on the subject. My father believed mind control was possible and could be used for a multitude of purposes. He tried to sell the idea that mind control could be used to make foreign leaders see the light, even on troublesome teens when their parents co
uldn’t get them to cooperate.”
“You argued often with him about it, or someone else did?” Ken asked.
“I argued against it, but actually, a couple of his friends were adamant that he shouldn’t try to develop mind control. Jacob Abrams often argued against it. I think he was worried about my father having control of that kind of power. People would literally be puppets in his control. No one would be able to stand against him. Jacob didn’t like the idea at all, and they would often get into a really heated argument if the subject came up. I was terrified he might actually find a way to do it.”
“He didn’t. I had the ability naturally and developed it myself.”
She frowned at Ken. “When did you know you could do that?”
He shrugged and reached over, trying to look casual as he pulled the edges of Mari’s shirt closed. He hated her being exposed to everyone. “I’ve been able to do it as long as I can remember. When I was a kid I used it mostly on teachers and foster parents, but my control wasn’t all that reliable.” He grimaced. “Eventually I was able to gain control over it, although it requires complete concentration and if used for a prolonged length of time, or for an intricate task, I’m left completely incapacitated. Also I can’t use it on more than one person at a time, or anything really significant, without huge repercussions. I can get guards to look the other way, but all of us have that ability to influence. Real mind control leaves me useless for hours.”
“Why isn’t it in your file? You didn’t test out for that ability.”
“I figured it best to hold some things back. Put it in my file now as if you’ve just discovered it. I’m sure Whitney’s very interested in both Jack and me right now, and he won’t be able to resist looking if he sees you’ve been pulling us up on the computer. You said he monitors your work, but doesn’t realize you’re aware of it,” Ken said. His knuckles lingered along the swell of Mari’s breast as he held the shirt closed. “Put it in there how you’ve studied both of us and how it’s strange that I’m capable of mind control but Jack’s not, and you need to further evaluate us. We can figure out a place for him to grab me, without endangering anyone else.”