Sami Steel has been fighting to survive right alongside Tace, convincing the Vanguard soldiers she’s one of them. In truth, Sami is a former hacker turned government agent who worked at The Bunker, where scientists stored both contaminants and cures. Only she knows the location, and she’s not telling. Yet when sexual fire explodes between her and Tace, she’ll face even that hell again to save him.
“Sexy, tough, and deftly sprinkled with dark humor.”
—New York Times bestselling author Larissa Ione
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The Darkness doesn’t just stare back…it moves forward, opens its mouth, and swallows you whole.
—Tace Justice
Tace Justice read the last depressing line on the page and growled, tossing the journal across the room. It landed and the cover slapped back into place with Hello Kitty smiling at him. Jesus. Paper was scarce, but the Doc could’ve found a different notebook when she’d ordered him to start journaling. Like his descent into madness really needed to be recorded by a happy cat.
He glanced around his dismal apartment in Vanguard headquarters. Worn beige bedspread, tan couch, ripped brown linoleum that smelled like, well, nothing. Hell, it probably smelled badly, but he’d lost his sense of smell. If he wasn’t crazy already, the entire room would just depress the shit out of him. The walls had been painted white decades ago and even now stood bare and dingy. Should he get some art to brighten the place up?
Why bother? He stood and stretched, wincing as new bruises ached to life.
They’d returned mere hours before from a full out battle up north where they’d rescued two of their own. His adrenaline had ebbed, yet his mind still spun. No way could he sleep.
A tremor started in his right foot, and he paused, taking note. It vibrated up past his knee, and he had to balance on his other leg as weakness assailed his entire limb.
Not another tremor.
He sighed and waited, breathing in and out evenly until his strength returned. Damn it. What was wrong with him? He lacked the emotion to be truly concerned, but this was certainly annoying.
His bed was empty of company, and he needed to burn off some energy. At the midnight hour, the gym downstairs would be free, so he deserted the crappy apartment, leaving the door unlocked. If anybody wanted to steal his ugly bedspread, they could take it with his blessing.
He turned down the quiet hallway where the elite Vanguard soldiers slept. All was quiet. Apparently anybody getting some had already done so and folks were now recuperating from the fight earlier.
Reaching the landing, he hustled down a flight of stairs to the vestibule of the brick building, tuning in to the soup kitchen to the right. No breathing. The place was deserted. Pivoting sharply, he took two stairs at a time in reaching the basement, which housed their makeshift gym.
“What are you doing up?” A female voice caught him unaware.
He stopped cold at seeing Sami Steel stretching out on the blue gym mat, her dark hair piled on top of her head, her fit body in tight yoga pants and a tank top. Bruises marred her slim jaw from the fight earlier, and a purpling lump showed on her right wrist. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said, his body awakening completely. Hell, he hadn’t realized his body had been slumbering. “You?” he asked.
She breathed out and moved very nice tits. “Too keyed up from the fight earlier.”
“I’m with you.” After the fight, it had taken hours to return to Vanguard territory, so they should both be fine by now. “We’re strange.”
She grinned, and cute lines crinkled by her soft brown eyes. “Anybody who has survived Scorpius is weird, if you ask me.”
He nodded. The Scorpius bacterium had spread through the human population like a biblical plague, killing more than ninety-nine percent of those infected. Since the bacteria localized in the brain, it altered everyone who’d survived it. Some were faster, some meaner, some crazier, and some evil. He was still figuring out where he was landing on that spectrum, and all indications pointed to sociopathic. “You fought well earlier.”
She lifted a dark eyebrow. “Thanks, although I did notice you covering my back more than was necessary. I can kick your ass, remember?”
True. She’d been kicking his ass for months in training. The woman had been raised by a father who owned a karate studio and an uncle who owned a street fighting organization, so she’d been fighting since birth. Yet lately…Tace had been holding back, not wanting to hurt her. Or to take away the confidence she seemed to need. “You are tough, now aren’t you?”
Something in his tone must’ve alerted her, because her chin lowered. “You wanna go a round?” she murmured.
His cock perked up. Damn it. He should’ve gone looking for the woman he’d been sleeping with, but the gym had interested him as much as her, which was a bad sign. Lately he kept seeing Sami’s face, even with Julie moving naked beneath him, and that could never happen. For as tough as Sami was physically, she had a delicacy of nature he’d destroy. Right now, before he completely succumbed to his darker side, he needed to make sure they stayed colleagues. “Nah,” he said, letting his natural Texas twang free. “I don’t wanna fight.”
“Chicken,” Sami taunted, standing and pulling one arm across her chest.
His mouth went dry, but he couldn’t look away. “I, ah, was trying to write in a journal and got frustrated.” Why was he sharing?
Sami rolled her eyes and worked on the other arm. “The doc told me to start journaling, too. Said it would be good for my brain as well as a proper recording of us rebuilding civilization.”
Tace snorted. “You’ve been keeping a diary?”
“No,” Sami shot back.
Lie. Interesting. While Tace couldn’t smell things any longer, he could sure as shit make out a lie. His chest heated. Oh, he was fine with her calling him a chicken, but lying to him? The darkness inside him rose up to battle with his good intentions. “Why the hell are you so secretive?” he snapped.
Her eyes widened and then narrowed right on him. “I’m not.”
Another fucking lie. The woman had more secrets than a CIA agent he’d met once while working as a medic in the army. “I’m not the only one who can read a lie these days, sweetheart. Many of us survivors have extra abilities, it seems. You might want to watch yourself.”
Her upper lip curled. “The day I need advice from you, Justice, I’ll be sure to ask nicely.”
Oh, he wanted to sink his teeth into that pretty pink lip. He took a step back, shaking his head free of the image. This was Sami, for Pete’s sake. They were both lieutenants to Jax Mercury, the leader of Vanguard, and they needed to keep it professional. Hell, at some point, she might be present when somebody had to put him down if he turned crazier.
“You sure you don’t wanna go a round?” she asked again, her stance wide.
His chin lowered. “I don’t think you want my hands on you right now.”
She blinked. “Oh, you are asking for a beating.”
The challenge, arrogant and annoying, barreled right through him. The beast growing in him won. He moved without thinking, grabbing her and putting her ass against the wall.
She gasped as he held her a foot or so off the ground.
He leaned into her face and smiled. “You should watch your mou—”
She chopped to his neck, and he saw stars. Two seconds later, she’d knocked him on his back, planted her ass on his abdomen, and angled her hands around his throat. “Tap out,” she snarled, straddling him.
A day ago, he would’ve tapped out. But something new and dark rose in him, hard and fast. “No.” Sweeping her arms away from his trachea, he grabbed her hip and shoved, rolling them both over. “I’m done tapping out.”
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Photo credit: Dylan Patrick
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Rebecca Zanetti has worked as an art curator, Senate aide, lawyer, college profes
sor, and a hearing examiner—only to culminate it all in stories about Alpha males and the women who claim them. She writes contemporary romances, dark paranormal romances, and romantic suspense novels.
Growing up amid the glorious backdrops and winter wonderlands of the Pacific Northwest has given Rebecca fantastic scenery and adventures to weave into her stories. She resides in the wild north with her husband, children, and extended family who inspire her every day—or at the very least give her plenty of characters to write about.
Please visit Rebecca at:
rebeccazanetti.com
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Scorpius Rising Page 13