Legend of Michael

by Lisa Renee Jones

She moaned into his mouth, her arms wrapping around his neck, her body curling into his. One hand traveled possessively over her slender rib cage and roughly caressed the high, full mounds of her breasts. Another soft moan was his reward, and it was a damn delicious one that all but destroyed what little restraint he had left. He tore his mouth away from hers, clinging to a thread of control. “You will not endanger yourself,” he ordered, his eyes boring into hers. “You will not.”

  “If I am in your life, I am a part of this war. If I’m not in your life, I am still a part of this war. Nothing you do can change that.”

  “Cassandra—”

  She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Your bossiness is sexy when you’re inside me,” she warned, her voice laced with a heady mixture of anger and seduction that about had him over the edge. “It’s irritating when you’re not. So either get naked or shut up.”

  “I’m not going to shut up,” he said.

  “Good,” she whispered. That meant he was going to get naked.

  He nipped her lower lip roughly, and she gasped, a sweet little purr following. “But when I am naked and buried inside you, Cassandra,” he said, “the answer is still no.”

  A sly smile slid onto her lips. “We’ll see about that.”

  Chapter 23

  Brock woke from the dim recesses of sleep with a hazy out-of-body experience that had him gasping for air and clawing his way through the decay of darkness. He sat up in a blast of energy, hands braced behind him on a cold, hard surface. His eyes fluttered at the light—long, black lines fading in and out of focus. He blinked again and again, refocused. Bars. There were bars all around him. He was in a massive cage. Cage. Was he dreaming?

  Slowly, his head tilted downward, and in stunned disbelief he realized he was as naked as the day he’d been born. Another harsh breath and he scanned the area, memories beginning to rebuild themselves. There were cameras pointed at him on either side of the cage. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the memories to come back to him. The bridge. The injection. Jocelyn. Her sultry feminine curves, those big, blue eyes. The instant her image filled his head, his dick went ramrod stiff.

  His hand went to his leg, a grimace sliding across his face as he flashed back to Powell jamming the letter opener into his leg. The pain. He reached down, touched all over his leg. Saw nothing. Laughed with the realization that it was done—he was a GTECH. He’d been transformed.

  His heart tripped with another memory. Powell demanding he admit that he’d given Green Hornets to Lucian, which, in retrospect, had been a jug-headed decision. Idiot Lucian. He should have known he couldn’t keep them under wraps. He inhaled, tracing a path back through the pain and fog—had he admitted what he had done? Relief washed over him with the realization he’d stayed strong. He had not admitted anything that would jeopardize his chance to lead the GTECHs or to crush Lucian.

  Adrenaline rushed through his veins, licking at his muscles with a sudden burst of energy. He flexed his hand several times—power chasing each movement, strength coursing through his veins. Leveraging his weight on his palms, Brock leapt to his feet. Power surged through his limbs, and he tilted his head back and roared with the pure joy of it. This was what he’d been waiting for. This was the beginning of greatness.

  But then, his hands closed around the bars of the cage—a hard thud of reality punching him in the chest. He was locked up. Computers lined the walls. A long lab table faced the cage with electronic equipment. All framing the cage. He was naked. Imprisoned. The high of his transformation churned to a grinding halt.

  What the hell was going on? He grimaced. Powell. It was one of his mind games. A control thing. Fine. He’d play his game until he could turn this around—and he would.

  A sudden jolt of tingling awareness rushed down his spine an instant before Jocelyn sashayed into the room, a rush of sexy curves and long, dark hair. “I see you’re awake,” she said, setting a stack of files down on the table facing the cage. Her gaze traveled down his body, settling on his cock. Already half hard, it twitched to life.

  “And naked,” he said. “You come for the peep show or what?”

  “I came to finish what I started,” she said, leaning on the desk, her blue eyes blazing at him.

  He arched a brow. “Which is what?”

  “To make Red Dart a success, starting with you.”

  “What about Red Dart requires I be naked?”

  Several seconds passed. “The General wanted it clear you were being reborn a new man.” But she liked it. He could see it in the heavy-lidded stare she cast his way. Something about Jocelyn ripped through him like a raging storm and settled hard in his chest. Suddenly, a memory of Powell and Jocelyn burst into his head.

  “You’re fucking him.” He would not allow that to occur again.

  Her expression flashed with surprise before she judiciously countered with, “And you want to, don’t you? The minute you’re free—you’re going to turn on him.” Her arms crossed over full breasts.

  “If I wanted to fuck Powell I’d have joined Adam,” he said. “But if he touches you again—I’ll do one better. I’ll kill him.” He had no idea why the idea of Powell touching this woman turned him inside out. No clue why he wanted to rip the bars away and go shake her until she knew Powell was not to touch her again. Fire licked at his limbs, at his mind. It eroded common sense, tore at him like a blade slicing muscle and flesh.

  She studied him, her eyes narrowed on his face. “Why would you say such a thing?” she asked. “You don’t even know me.”

  He pinned her in a tormented stare. “I wanted you before. I want you more now.”

  “This must be some reaction to your transformation,” she said. “I’m going to call the doctor.” She reached for a phone on the desk.

  Another memory assailed him. “Wait.” His eyes narrowed. Michael had been there. Michael. And she’d called him her son. “Holy crap,” he said in disbelief, tilting his head to study her more closely. “Is Michael your son?”

  She set the phone down with a thud equal to a concrete block hitting the ground. “What does Michael have to do with anything?”

  Bingo. Hit a nerve. A raw one, too. “Everything, it appears. He is your son, is he not?” The uneasiness that flashed in her face was all the answer he needed. “Powell’s popping you, and your son is popping his daughter. That’s a little freaky, even for me.”

  “What?” she said. “Michael is seeing Powell’s daughter?”

  “Apparently they have a long history.”

  “But Michael is Zodius.” She shook her head. “No. That makes no sense. Powell’s daughter would not be seeing a Zodius soldier.”

  “Michael was Zodius. He’s a Renegade. One of the good guys, supposedly, but then no one really knows whose side Michael plays on, from what I can tell. And really, who are the good guys?”

  A sharp, stiff reply followed. “Michael isn’t one of the good guys.”

  Michael sure had a way of twisting everyone into a pissing, little wad. “And Powell is?”

  Her defenses bristled. “He’s trying to protect this country from Adam.”

  More like control the world, but Brock didn’t care. Not when he was part of that control. “Guess you know Powell hates Michael then. Suppose it’s expected with Michael getting down and dirty with his daughter and trying to kill him.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You hate him, too, don’t you?” Interesting. “What could he have done to turn his own mother against him?”

  “Are we ready to get started?” Powell’s voice ricocheted through the room a moment before he appeared with Dr. Chin by his side.

  Jocelyn whirled on him. “Is Michael with Zodius or the Renegades?”

  Powell’s gaze flickered over Brock with disapproval before returning to Jocelyn. “He is a GTECH, Jocelyn. They are all GTECHs, and they must all be controlled.”

  “But he’s working with Adam,” she said. “You said he’s working with Adam.”

  “Don’t go and get a wild matern
al hair to save your son, Jocelyn,” he chided. “He’s far more dangerous than his father ever was and failing to deal with him, I assure you, will result in the loss of innocent lives. And we both know you have more blood on your hands from supporting his father than you can bear as it is.” He made a vague gesture toward the computer. “Show me your brilliant work with Red Dart, my dear.”

  “I’m not sure it’s safe,” she commented and eyed Dr. Chin. “Brock is having a reaction to the transformation. He’s aggressive. Possessive.” She hesitated. “Oversexed.”

  “Whatever he was before the injections, he is more so now,” Dr. Chin informed her. “This is nothing to be concerned about. If he has any adverse reaction, I’m here to intervene.”

  Brock clutched onto the bars so hard he thought either the steel or his arms would break. He was not oversexed. He was not aggressive. And he did not want anyone intervening. He wanted this done and over.

  “Do whatever you are going to do, and get me the hell out of here!” Brock screamed, shaking the bars. “He’s right, Jocelyn. We are all GTECHs. And I am their leader.”

  “Get on with it, Jocelyn,” Powell ordered.

  She hesitated. “I need the crystal.”

  He pulled a thin silver box from his jacket and opened it. Instantly, a glowing red light emanated from the crystal. Jocelyn removed it and set it inside the electronic device by the computer. Her gaze lifted to Brock’s for a tormented moment. A few keys were punched, and there was a cranking sound near the cameras as the barrel of a gun extended. Brock turned toward the weapon, ready for whatever he had coming. All he wanted was freedom.

  ***

  General Powell stood behind Jocelyn, arms in front of his chest, one finger pressed under his chin, watching West act like a fool about to rule the world. He knew the man had betrayed him, and West would learn quickly who was in charge.

  “Here we go,” Jocelyn murmured and punched a key. A red dot flashed on his chest, painless, silent, followed instantly by another. Brock stiffened. “That’s the tranquilizer,” Jocelyn explained. “It’s a two-second stun he shouldn’t remember.”

  Sure enough, Brock straightened and turned back to Powell. “Is that it?” he said. “Am I done? Are we ready to go kick some GTECH ass?”

  “Is it done?” Powell asked, glancing at Jocelyn.

  She punched a few more keys and turned the computer screen toward him. Powell glanced down at the beeping light on the computer screen. “Walk forward,” Jocelyn called out to Brock. He did as ordered. The signal moved with him.

  “Excellent,” Powell said. “It’s holding.” He smiled at Jocelyn. She’d always been Taylor’s research-and-development genius. Though it seemed a miracle that she’d handled the job of CEO over Taylor Industries, considering her recent displays of weakness. No wonder her husband had kept her involvement with Taylor off the grid. She’d have to be dealt with, controlled fully.

  Jocelyn punched another few keys and coordinates popped up. “You will now know his exact location.” She keyed again and pulled up a long number. “That is his individual marker. A code we insert along with the tracking material that makes his signal unique. The technology… well… it still amazes me. It is nothing that this planet would have found on our own for centuries.”

  “And the torture mechanism?” Powell asked, clamping down on his growing excitement. Jocelyn had inadvertently made the magnificent discovery that when Red Dart was exposed with certain silent sound waves, it sliced and diced the nervous system. Unfortunately, any GTECH within a certain radius would be affected, which meant it would have limitations for individual interrogation. But as a mass military operation, it would be irreplaceable. Spray the GTECHs with rays of Red Dart and then bring their entire force to their knees.

  “We simply have to activate the sound wave, and the GTECH should respond.” She held up a compact remote. “We have not tested this on humans. Dr. Chin and I both believe he needs to be on monitors and stress tested.”

  “I do have to agree with Jocelyn,” Dr. Chin inserted. “We’ve pulled him from monitoring rather quickly.”

  Powell flipped the remote over in his hand several times. “If we give him everything we’ve got, and he survives,” Powell said, “then you’ve done your stress test, and we move on.”

  “If he survives,” Jocelyn quipped. “We need to pull back. To test slowly. We’ve come too far to blow it now.”

  He arched a brow. “The man gets a hard-on for you, and you suddenly want to pull back and protect him? And yes, I know he wants you. You forget the cameras. I was watching when you entered the room. I saw and heard everything.” He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms, his hand sliding over her ass. She gasped, her hands going to his chest. He yelled out to West. “I’m touching her, West. Who do you want to fuck now? Her or me?”

  West screamed in rage, paced the cage, and jerked the bars. “I’ll kill you! Kill you, Powell. Skin you alive!” Animalistic snarls slid from his lips.

  Powell released Jocelyn, who quickly scurried away like some pathetic rabbit.

  “You sonofabitch!” she yelled. “You’re intentionally trying to upset him. This is not what science and medicine are about!”

  Powell ignored her. “What do you make of it, Chin?”

  Dr. Chin scrutinized West, who had stopped screaming and was now running in circles around his cage. He cut Powell a look edged with concern. “I’ve warned you that faster administration of the serum could lead to a more primal outcome, especially with the new formula.”

  Powell fingered the remote. “Even animals can be trained to obey,” he commented dryly. “With the right discipline.”

  Dr. Chin glanced at Jocelyn who was hugging herself. “I suspect there is a lifebond connection between you and West.”

  Jocelyn gaped with instant rejection. “I’m not even attracted to that man.”

  “A Lifebond would be attracted to her mate,” Chin agreed. “We’ll have to do some testing.”

  “I’m not going to become a lab rat,” Jocelyn said. “This is not what I signed up for.”

  Powell looked down his nose at her. “I thought you wanted to protect our country?”

  She shook her head. “Lifebonding has nothing to do with protecting my country.”

  “We must know what makes the GTECHs tick. It is imperative.” Powell considered a moment, his gaze shifted to Dr. Chin, who, unlike Jocelyn, had a stomach for necessity. “I wonder what he’d do if we put her in there with him?”

  “What?” Jocelyn grabbed the table. “I am not going in a cage with that… that thing you created.”

  Powell grimaced. “Hypothetically, Jocelyn,” he said. “Get a grip on yourself, and be professional. This is a science experiment, designed to save lives.” He walked toward the cage. “Let’s get on with progress.”

  Expediting his plans quickly was essential now that the GTECHs knew about Red Dart and Michael was not only inside the Renegades’ operation, but sniffing around in Jocelyn’s business. Powell had to claim control of the GTECHs and do it now, if not with the sound waves alone, then with Red Dart and the Green Hornets combined.

  Losing West would be an inconvenience—his connections to Lucian were a fast track inside Zodius, and his readiness for immediate action, the best possible option. But one had to be willing to take losses in war if one was to gain enemy territory. Besides, he had additional recruits en route, soldiers he’d personally selected for their exemplary track records.

  Powell smiled, held up the remote. “This is why you’re naked,” he said. “Because I’m going to introduce you to death, son, and you will be reborn my follower or not at all.” He flipped the remote and West’s body began to shake. He turned up the volume, and West slid down the bars and crashed to his knees. Oh yes, he liked this. Easing off the volume, he allowed West to recover slightly.

  West lifted himself with his hands, face red, eyes bloodshot. “What did you do to me?” he wheezed.

  Powell knelt down to hi
s level. “I didn’t do this. Jocelyn did. This was her invention.” He tilted his head, studied him. “And you said you didn’t mind being under my control. You said you would do what was necessary to be my commander. Now. Why don’t you tell me how Zodius got those Green Hornets?”

  He snarled. “I don’t know.”

  Powell hit the remote. West’s grip on the bars fell away, and he dropped like a rock to the floor, shaking. Powell eased off the remote. “How did they get Green Hornets?”

  West pushed himself up on his hands again. “I don’t—”

  Again, Powell shocked him, left the sound wave on a slow simmer that kept West flat on his face and shivering.

  Jocelyn ran forward. “Enough, General! You see it works. Enough!”

  “Control yourself,” he warned Jocelyn, the snap of a whip in his tone. “Our agenda is bigger than one man’s pain.”

  Defiance flashed in her eyes. “You have no agenda but playing God.”

  Irritation zigzagged through his body. “Careful now, Jocelyn, my sweet,” he said. “You’re stressed and saying things you might regret later. Because if making weapons of mass destruction as Taylor does is not playing God, I do not know what is.” There was a hidden promise behind those words. He’d discreetly made it clear he knew how many American pine boxes Taylor’s foreign relations had created.

  He closed the distance between them and stared down at her. “I know how much you want to amend the past. We are a peaceful nation. With super soldiers in our arsenal, we will force peace on others without ever lifting a hand. We are doing a good thing here. Circumstances simply demand we act swiftly.” The challenge in her eyes faded, and he settled his hands on her shoulders. “We must know this man’s physical and mental limitations, so that we properly gauge their effectiveness against the GTECHs.”

  She hesitated and then shook her head. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. Okay. I just… I can’t watch.”

  “Then don’t,” he said. “Go to the other room, and we will call you when this is done.”

  With an inhaled breath, she silently agreed, turning and walking away.