Justice Ascending

by Rebecca Zanetti

  The wall opened.

  A long hallway stretched before her, the floor concrete, the walls a stark white. Blue doors with windows were set every few yards.

  Her legs trembled, but she moved forward and looked inside the first one. It was a room that looked like a jail cell with a cot, toilet, and sink. A woman sat against the far wall, her arm in a cast, bleeding pustules all over her face. She looked up, her brown eyes already dead. “Kill me,” she whispered.

  Sami stumbled back. Voices roared around her, all from different cells. Several faces pressed against the small windows, bruised and bloody. Oh God. There were so many test subjects.

  “Sami!” Greg Valentin ran for her, his gun in his pants. He was a guard in the center, and he’d become her friend. “What the hell?” He glanced quickly around, grabbed her arm, and dragged her back into the computer room before shutting the door. “Are you crazy? They’ll kill you for going in there.”

  She gaped. “You knew?”

  He blanched, his dark skin flushing. “The doctors are trying to cure and understand the infection, and they need test subjects. Only people who’ve been infected already.”

  Sami backed away from him. “That’s inhumane. We can’t do that.”

  Greg leaned in. “There’s no choice. Go back to work, and don’t tell anybody what you just saw.”

  She turned, bile rising in her throat. Oh, she was going to open those cells and let those poor people out . . . and then she was running like hell to get home to her family. If any of them had survived, she needed to find them. They were all she had left.

  Months in the future, she woke up with a gasp, her heart thundering. Oh God. What were they thinking to consider going to the Bunker? The place was closer to hell than she ever wanted to get.

  Yet did they have a choice? She’d do anything to save Tace, and this might be his only chance. Her body trembled. There had to be some way to shore up their defenses first. If not, then they wouldn’t stand a chance against the Bunker soldiers and their weapons.

  In her worst nightmares, she’d known she would die back at the Bunker.

  Was that just her imagination or was it a premonition?

  * * *

  Tace kicked back in his chair and studied the rough drawing of the Bunker on the whiteboard. Raze sat on his left, Jax on his right, and they all swirled crystal tumblers of Scotch. The good kind they’d found in a doctor’s office in Westwood. The three women had disappeared to try to get some much needed sleep. “Human experimentation. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised,” Tace murmured.

  Jax winced. “I can’t imagine what they tried. I mean, if you think about how we’ve changed, how many brains did they cut into?”

  “Gross.” Tace scrubbed both hands down his face. Sami had told them about a couple of files she’d found, and it was ugly. Everything from trying deadly cures to seeing how quickly a survivor could heal from different injuries—even snakebites. He focused on the physical layout of the Bunker and tried to banish the nauseating thoughts. “Looks tight,” he muttered, pointing to the center of the building.

  Raze nodded. “If they have enough soldiers to guard each point, then it’ll be next to impossible to infiltrate with our current resources.”

  “We need explosives,” Jax said, tipping back his drink. “Otherwise we have no chance.”

  “Copy that.” Tace crossed his legs at the ankle and viewed the schematics of the elevators. “The entry point concerns me.”

  “There has to be another way via stairs or a tunnel,” Raze agreed. “Sami said the workers only used the elevators to get underground, but once electricity went down, no way would the Bunker use generators in such a wasteful manner. Especially if they kept people prisoner there.”

  “Or she’s right that the elevator shafts are the only way up or down,” Tace said thoughtfully. “That’s how she got out—by climbing the ladders set into the walls.”

  Jax glanced toward his medic. “You okay with all of this?”

  “No.” Tace cocked his head to the side to memorize the layout. “You?”

  “Well, I’m fuckin’ tired of my closest lieutenants lying to me,” Jax snapped.

  Raze shifted in his chair. “I said I was sorry, and then we punched each other. Now we move forward.” He looked at Tace. “You and Sami gonna break up?”

  “I thought I’d send her a note ending it in gym class,” Tace returned, keeping his focus on the board and his temper in check.

  Jax snorted.

  “Don’t be a dick,” Raze said agreeably. “So she lied while trying to survive in a world that has gone dead. It isn’t impossible to understand.”

  Yeah, but she’d continued lying even after they’d become close and trusted each other. After they’d had sex. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” Tace muttered.

  “Sure, I do. Vinnie forgave me even though I’d planned to turn her over to the enemy. If she can do that, why can’t you? I mean, the world has changed for the worse after Scorpius, and we’re all doing our best,” Raze said.

  “Fuck, that’s the longest sentence you’ve ever said,” Jax muttered.

  “Vinnie forgave you because she’s much nicer than I am,” Tace said.

  Raze nodded. “Well, that’s true.”

  Jax reached over his shoulder for the bottle and poured himself another glass, waiting until the other two held theirs out for refills. He set it back with a thump. “While your delicate feelings are of great concern to me, Tace, I’m more worried that we still don’t know the full truth.”

  Tace paused. His nape tickled, and irritation swelled. “What do you mean?”

  “What if this is the plan? What if Sami has been working for the Bunker the entire time, checking us out, and is now sending us right into an ambush? What if the science part is true, and those assholes need new test subjects?” Jax scowled and took a healthy drink of his Scotch.

  “She wouldn’t do that,” Tace shot back, straightening in his chair. His chest filled with air, and his testosterone surged.

  “How the hell do you know?” Jax returned. “We’ve been looking for the Bunker for months. Hell, you and Lynne have been poring over data every day trying to find a lead on the damn place, and Sami has known its location the entire time. To think of the time we wasted.”

  “She wouldn’t set us up to be harmed,” Tace said. Why the hell was he defending her against reasonable questions? “She lied because she was scared. I don’t think she’s devious enough to send us to our deaths.”

  “You’re thinking with your dick,” Jax said.

  Tace clenched his free hand into a fist.

  “An hour ago you were on your back having convulsions,” Jax said easily. “You might want to think twice about hitting me.”

  “Then keep your mind off my dick,” Tace snapped.

  Raze chortled and drank down his entire glass of Scotch. “While I hate to be the voice of reason, we need to get the personal shit ironed out before the next mission. I’m talking to both of you.”

  “Sami’s off mission,” Jax said.

  “She gets to stay in Vanguard?” Tace asked, his jaw tightening so much his neck hurt.

  “For the time being but she’s confined to base,” Jax said.

  “That’s fair,” Tace said, his shoulders loosening. Truth be told, he liked her confined somewhere safe at the moment.

  Jax cleared his throat. “So are you.”

  “No.” Tace rubbed a bruise beneath his jaw. “My weird attacks have been going on for a while, and I’ve been fine on mission. I can tell when they’re coming.” Not exactly the truth.

  Raze nodded. “Jax, you’re needed here to deal with the Pure church—they’re about to make a move, and we have to protect any kids involved. Tace and I can go scouting for explosives inner city like we’d planned. He’ll be fine.”

  Tace’s chest warmed at the support.

  “Or I’ll just shoot him in the head, and we won’t have to worry about it any longer,�
�� Raze finished. “It could go either way.”

  Tace studied the former sniper. “Are you joking?”

  “Eh.” Raze lifted a shoulder.

  “Works for me,” Jax said, his gaze returning to the board. “Just make sure he’s dead if you shoot him. Don’t leave him for Rippers to finish off.”

  Tace finished his drink. “You’re both all heart.”

  “You’re off mission except to go with Raze or me,” Jax said, shaking his head. “We can cover you, but other than that, you’re here until the passing out ends.”

  Tace grimaced. “Fine.” Yeah, that was fair.

  “You should’ve told us you were having issues,” Jax said.

  “Yep,” Raze agreed.

  Well. If nothing else, it appeared as if Jax and Raze had buried the hatchet—right in Tace’s back. “I thought it was just another aspect of Scorpius that would go away.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything anyway?” Raze asked.

  “We have enough going on, so I thought I’d just hold tight and be strong.” Tace rubbed both hands down his face. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something.”

  “You’re forgiven,” Jax said.

  “Ditto,” Raze echoed.

  Tace settled, and the world righted. Circumstances had forced them to bond quickly, but even in a different world, he would’ve trusted these men. Now they all wore the mark of Vanguard, and that meant something. They truly were brothers, and he needed them. He thanked God he’d found them. “Thank you for understanding. Are the two of you all right now?”

  “Yeah,” Jax said as Raze nodded.

  “Good.” Tace shoved to his feet. “See you guys tomorrow.” He needed to go sleep it off before facing Sami.

  Leaving the war rooms, he headed up to bed. Feeling a thousand years old, he trudged up the steps and turned at the landing.

  Sami waited for him by his door.

  That quickly, he went from tired to full alert. His heart slammed against his ribs, and every nerve in his body perked up to full attention. And he hadn’t even touched her yet.

  Ah, hell. This was bad. She had her fighting stance already in place, and it was all he could do not to take her down in the hallway and teach her a lesson. A lesson that lying to a guy like him, the guy he’d become, was a seriously bad idea. He reached her in long strides. “Now is not a good time.”

  She crossed her arms, her gaze tumultuous. “We need to talk.”

  Anger roared through him, and he shoved the door open behind her, backing her into his room. “You asked for it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Whoever said that truth sets you free was a moron.

  —Sami Steel

  Sami knew in an instant that she’d miscalculated. Not in keeping secrets or finally confessing . . . but in forcing her way into Tace’s night. She should’ve given him time to work out his thoughts and dealt with her nightmares on her own. Waiting at his doorway close to midnight had been a colossal mistake. “Um, maybe I should—”

  “Too late.” He used his big body to maneuver her into the room, giving her no choice but to walk backward. The door closed with an audible click that sent a shiver down her spine.

  She blinked, and her breath heated. “You’re angry.”

  A swell of vibrating heat rolled through the room, and she actually took another step back.

  “Angry? No.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door, very effectively blocking the only exit. “Angry brings to mind a slight argument or bad day. What I am is fuckin’ pissed.”

  “Well now, that does sound worse than angry.” She gave up any pretense of facing him head-on and backed farther away and into the apartment, keeping him in her sights. She’d learned long ago to keep a threat in view, and there was no doubt Tace was all threat at the moment. “I’m thinking we should talk about it tomorrow.”

  “I’m thinking you showed up here to fight it out, which is exactly what’s going to happen.” His voice remained too low and soft, which was all the more frightening for the fury behind it.

  She swallowed.

  The good ole Texas boy was long gone. She’d seen him disappearing the last few weeks, but now, facing the deadly furious soldier, she knew it was for good. Oh, Tace would always carry part of his former self, but this guy was harder and deadlier. Yet this form of him, the impenetrable strategist, was the one who softened her thighs and quickened her breath.

  Right at the moment, however, she wasn’t sure she could handle him. “What do you want from me?” she whispered.

  His eyelashes swept up in a curiously dangerous way, and his focus narrowed. “I want to break you, Samantha. Completely.”

  Her mouth gaped open. Warning ticked through her, but so did spirit. “Not a chance.”

  He was on her then. Faster than she could track, he had her up against the wall, one hand fisted in her hair.

  She gasped and sucked in air.

  Heat poured off him, surrounding her. Slowly, deliberately, he rolled his wrist, forcing her face to lift to his.

  Weakness swept through her legs. Worse yet, her nipples hardened to diamonds at the show of dominance. What was wrong with her? “I don’t play these kinds of games,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

  “I’m not playing.”

  Her body did a head-to-toe tremble.

  His answering smile held a darkness way out of her experience.

  Her breath quickened, and she panted quietly as she tried to keep her chest from exploding. This was too real. She had to create some sort of distance. “Listen, Texa—”

  He jerked her head, and a slight pain rippled along her scalp. “What did you call me?” His heated breath brushed her face.

  She opened her mouth, but the look in his eyes stopped the words in her throat. “Um.”

  He leaned into her. “What’s my name, Sami?”

  “Tace,” she breathed, her instincts taking over.

  “Good. Don’t do it again.”

  He knew. He totally knew she’d been trying to put him off. She wanted to challenge him, to fight whatever he was doing, but she felt as if she were balancing at the edge of a jagged cliff and trying not to fall. Her entire body shot into overdrive, nerves firing, breath catching. Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

  “No. No tears,” he ordered.

  She batted them away, and her vision cleared.

  “I’ve been inside you, and you’ve cried out my name. What did you think would happen when you came clean about the lies?” he asked, a liquid curiosity in his tone.

  “Not this,” she whispered.

  “What is this?” His upper lip barely curved.

  She swallowed. “I don’t know.”

  “You will.” He nipped her bottom lip none too gently.

  She jerked, and raw heat clambered down her body, zinged a few times, and landed between her legs with a fierceness that scared her. She reacted, shoving a leg toward his ribs and shooting her arms up in a defensive move.

  He flattened her against the wall with one step forward, swiping her leg back. “Hands down,” he growled, the hand in her hair tightening in warning. “Palms flat against the wall. Now.” He pressed his thigh up and between her legs against her aching clit.

  She bit her lip to keep from crying out. “Please, Tace—”

  “No. If I decide you need to beg, I’ll fuckin’ tell you. Hands. Now.”

  Her brain fuzzed. Think. She needed time to think. So she flattened her hands against the wall, a dangerous curiosity filling her. How far would he take whatever this was? “Don’t forget I can kick your ass,” she muttered, not even remotely sure she could any longer.

  “It occurs to me that I’ve misread you from day one,” he murmured thoughtfully, his gaze on her upturned face.

  “How’s that?” she asked.

  “It all makes so much more sense now. An LAPD rookie with fighting skills would be an idealist motivated by saving people, unlike you,” he said.

  She narrowed her ga
ze. “And me?”

  “You’re a brat motivated by the challenge of the hack. Of beating the next guy,” he said.

  There was enough truth in the statement that she had to keep herself from wincing. “Not anymore.”

  “It’s about the game, right? You love to play the game.” His voice darkened and warmed.

  “Life stopped being a game a long time ago,” she snapped, briefly shutting her eyes.

  “I don’t think so. You like games so much? Oh, baby, we’re gonna play a game, and only one of us is gonna win.” His thigh ground against her, and mini-orgasms vibrated through her lower half.

  She opened her eyes to face his directly, determination lancing through her. “You want to play, Justice? Fine, we can play all you want.” He’d lifted his thigh just enough to give her an opening. She clapped both hands beneath his knee and lifted, throwing him off balance.

  His fist flattened on the back of her head and he took her with him, falling backward onto the cracked linoleum.

  She cried out, shooting an elbow beneath his chin even as he dragged her down.

  The second he hit, he rolled, his foot kicking a kitchen chair over. It splintered, and wood clacked across the floor.

  She kicked and struggled, knocking the lantern off the table. Plexiglas cracked, and he swept the pieces out of the way with one arm. She punched him in the throat, and he choked, his face turning red.

  Following up with her nails, she tried to grab onto his larynx.

  He levered up, grabbed her hips, and tossed her over and onto her stomach. She landed with a muffled oof, and the breath swooshed from her lungs. She struggled furiously, but he dropped a leg across her lower back just as a large hand manacled her wrists together beneath her shoulder blades.

  She bucked and writhed, shoving her shirt up, but she couldn’t dislodge him. The old linoleum smelled like mold and scratched her chin. Her kicking feet connected with the stuffed chair, sending it spinning into the coffee table.