by Brenna Lyons
“You did it once, but you’re not sure how.”
He nodded. “I just can’t find it again.” Griffin scowled at the admission. “If you’re counting on that, you’re up shit crick, buddy.”
Jonas chuckled. “Priceless.” He slid in past his guards’ E-shields and exerted class seven holds, ordering them to turn over their weapons to him. The guns dropped into his hands, rounds chambered for use. Jonas smiled.
Griffin launched to his feet with a sharp intake of breath, his hand moving to a 9mm behind him. His eyes were wide. He knew what Jonas did but not how, just as Jonas intended.
Jonas placed both weapons on the desk between them and pulled his hands back, palms up. “Just a demonstration, Paul,” he assured the other man. “I don’t want you dead any more than you want me dead.”
Griffin sat, nodding his pale face in a jittery motion. “What the hell was that? I didn’t see anything until you had control.”
“You promise to go along with me—You get every talent you can lay your hands on, and I’ll teach every one of them you trust to pull that trick. What is that worth to you, Paul? It’s a passive class. Even your weakest can learn to bypass a shield.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Walking into Clinton with a small army of captured renegades, of course.”
“You’re kidding. Baker will never fall for that.”
“No. I’m not. I’ll insist on holding the exchange there.”
“There won’t be an exchange. They won’t give Sarah to you.”
“No, but they will pretend like they will. That’s all I need them to do.”
Griffin’s eyes widened. “You’re using yourself as bait? If you demand this, they’ll kill you to keep her.”
Jonas motioned to the guns on the desk. “You mean they’ll try to.”
“Baker will paint you as a renegade.”
“I care? Who’s he going to send after me?”
Griffin laughed heartily. “You don’t know the half of it yet, Jonas.”
*
September 2nd
Steven recoiled from Evan’s reaction, as the keeper practically threw Jonas at the bed. “Christ, Evan! Watch it, will you?” Steven moved to the other bed as Jonas settled unceremoniously on the one he vacated.
“Where the hell have you been?” Evan shouted. He rushed on without waiting for an answer. “Dammit, Paige! The last time you disappeared like that after renegades—”
Jonas started pulling off his jacket. “I got shot. You don’t have to remind me, Evan. But, these aren’t renegades.”
“They aren’t fans of DoPT either.”
“I’m not DoPT. I resigned, remember? We have a filing receipt.
Evan snagged him by the hand, as Jonas dropped his jacket to the bed. Steven winced at the bruises that ringed his wrists.
“I see Griffin welcomed you with open arms,” Evan growled.
“That was the handiwork of his guards. I allowed it in good faith until I needed to make a point.”
“Do you have any concept what this has been like? You go AWOL on me for ten hours, and I couldn’t even call in backup, because then Baker would know you made contact. How the hell was I going to explain that one?”
“We don’t have to explain anything.”
“He’s in?”
“Oh yeah. Paul wouldn’t miss this one for the world. We figure all three of the big boys will be there.”
“Gunning for you.”
“That’s the plan. We both knew that.”
Evan groaned. “You have to be sure about this.”
Jonas pulled a picture from his shirt pocket and stared at it sadly. “I’m sure.”
Steven put his hand out, and Jonas placed the picture reluctantly in his hand. Steven knew that look. “She’s sad. God, the baby is so big already. How did they get this?”
“They have a spy protecting her. A keeper.”
Evan nodded. “Got a name to go with that?”
“I did a little snooping behind shields. Her guard—Boyonton. Can you check a Clinton student for me without raising flags?”
“Only general record. I can’t get a comprehensive without someone noticing. What do you need?”
“Flynn. No first known. I need to know if I can trust him.”
“A student? Why would you care?”
“Bear with me.”
Evan pulled out his pocket PC and started punching buttons. Steven watched warily as Jonas started pacing.
“Okay. What do you need on this kid?” Evan asked.
“Start talking.”
“Jeremy Flynn is sixteen. He’s been at Clinton for a year. He’s a runaway from Springfield, Massachusetts. Lived nine months on the streets renegade to survive. Major red light on the home life. That’s why he left. Daddy—Well, you can guess.”
“What about his time at Clinton?”
Evan shrugged. “Remember your first three years?”
Jonas groaned. “Lovely. Useful skills?”
“He’d be handy enough if he can be trusted or controlled. That’s strange.”
Jonas stopped and turned back to him. “What is?”
Evan furrowed his brow, pointing at the small screen. “He went from juvie renegade to model citizen here. No iso or restraints in two months. I don’t get it.”
Jonas picked up a therapy ball off the dresser and started kneading it in his hand. “Why?”
Evan scowled. “I told you, I can’t see that. No psych profiles or medical on the general form.”
“What can you see?”
Steven sucked in his breath at the harsh undertones that crept into Jonas’ voice. Jonas fisted his hand, his muscles bunched and his eyes murderous.
Evan shook his head. “Let’s look at the record of his last disciplinary call. Maybe he spent a long damn time in iso.” His fingers flew over the keys. “Okay. Physical and renegade assault back in early July. He was stun-sprayed. No iso? Why no iso? They always use physical and neuro-restraint for any type of assault, and this was a double.”
“Who did he attack? Student or staff?”
“Give me a minute. It’s not in the descriptives. I need the statement of fact from the keeper on site.”
Jonas crushed the therapy ball in his hand and watched Evan, every muscle taut.
Evan paled. His fingers froze over the keys. “Uh, Jonas. Is there something you know that we don’t?”
Jonas pitched the ball against the wall, causing the crunch of cracked plaster. “He attacked Sarah, didn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Evan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “She wasn’t hurt. In fact, she sent him to medical for assorted bumps and bruises. I don’t know why they didn’t put him in iso.”
“She wouldn’t allow it.”
Steven shook his head. “Say what?”
“Sarah has made it her personal quest to keep the kids out of iso.”
“Even when they attack her?” Sarah didn’t like iso, but that was going a little far, even for his sister.
Jonas turned a furious look on him, and Steven backed off a step in confusion.
“Apparently. And now renegade junior is the head of her personal guard. So, I need to know whose back Flynn will stick the knife in if he gets the chance.”
*
Sarah gasped. She double-checked her shield, but it was firmly in place. Still, she felt the caress across the swell of her abdomen. She moved quickly, practically sprinting to her room and closing herself in.
She eased her shield down. “Jonas?”
His touch was everywhere. Sarah sank to the bed in surprise. This touch was different than his usual mental input that stimulated the feeling of his hands and lips on her. She could see the T-shirt smooth where his hand touched, feel his calluses when he touched her cheek.
“Jonas, please talk to me.”
His hands traced their baby. “So big,” he whispered in her mind. “Just let me touch you.”
Sarah groaned, as he massag
ed her, investigating their baby with his whole body—his fingers, the flat of his hands, his cheek and lips. It couldn’t last long. She knew the energy outlay had to be incredible.
“I’m fine. Take off your shirt. Let me touch him, Sarah.”
She smiled as she peeled the T-shirt off. “I had to tell you it’s a boy, didn’t I?” She sucked in her breath as Jonas eased her sweat pants down over her hips.
At first, he brushed his lips over her, murmuring his enjoyment in her mind. When his hand closed on her breast, Sarah closed her eyes, envisioning Jonas over her in bed.
“That’s right, Sarah. That’s what I want.”
Any questions Sarah had were answered when she felt his lips on her neck, his hands stripping her sweats and underwear from her legs. She kicked her shoes away then tipped her hips for him as her pants slipped to her knees, fisted in his hands.
His mouth closed on her breast as her sweats left her body. She felt his heat and softness as if he was really with her, his tongue making torturous trails over her body.
“Oh, Jonas.”
His kisses were hot, drugging. His body pressed into her. “I need you, Sarah. Please let me take you.”
She reached up to touch him, but Jonas captured her wrists, holding them above her head.
“Jonas, I need—”
Sarah sucked in her breath as Jonas spread her thighs and entered her in a single motion. His mouth covered hers, reminding her to stifle her reaction. Jonas wasn’t gentle. Sarah felt the urgency as she had in the kitchen their first morning together. There was desperation in him.
His groan rumbled through her as Sarah touched his mind, needing to touch him somehow. Her mind supplied fantasies, which he fulfilled for her. His motions became more fevered, driving into her while Jonas whispered loving words and encouragement in her mind. Sarah stifled her cry into a series of hitching breaths, biting her lip hard to maintain as much silence as she could as she shattered around him.
Jonas stilled inside her, his hands tightening around her wrists and hip. His voice was like a prayer in her mind. “I’m coming for you, Sarah. Soon. I will be there very soon.”
Sarah sobbed, the enormity of how real she’d wanted him to be like a crushing blow. Jonas receded to a touch in her mind, his hands and body gone from hers. He’d kept her from touching the Jonas who wasn’t there. Sarah curled to her side, feeling empty and alone. She’d never felt that alone, even in iso.
He cried with her, offering apologies. “I shouldn’t have— I need you, Sarah. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His weakness beat at her. Jonas had pushed too far, used too much to accomplish what he did.
“Jonas, you have to stop and eat now.”
“I need you, Sarah.”
“Jonas! It’s time to recarb. You have to do it, now.” She tried to hide her panic then let him see it clearly.
“Sarah—”
“Please, Jonas. You have to do this.”
*
Steven stumbled into the wall under the force of Sarah’s connection. She was panicked, and she wasn’t making sense. Her emotions were in a riot.
“Sarah, stop it. I don’t understand.”
“Help him, Steven. For the love of God, help him.”
“Jonas?” Who was he kidding? Who else would have her so upset?
“Please, Steven.”
“I’m going. Relax.”
He pushed off the wall and grabbed a confused Evan by the shoulder, dragging him across the room.
“What is it?” Evan asked.
“Your boy.”
Evan rushed past him, pushing into the room he shared with Jonas. They had left Jonas to rest after his night with Griffin and retreated to the room Steven shared with his mother. Steven wasn’t through the door yet when curses from Evan brought him up short.
“Get Coke from the fridge,” he shouted.
Steven snagged the six-pack of bottles and headed to the bed. He surveyed Jonas.
Jonas was tangled in the sheets. He was curled into a ball: crying, shaking, and sweating at the same time. He murmured Sarah’s name over and over. The unmistakable smell of arousal hung in the air, but beating off, even linked to Sarah, couldn’t send Jonas into shock-state.
Evan cracked the first Coke and half-forced a mouthful down him. “Dammit, Paige! Back off and stop wasting the energy. She doesn’t want this.”
Jonas shook his head. “Not leaving her,” he whispered.
Evan turned on Steven. “Make her break off. I can’t reach him until she does.”
Steven nodded and reached for Sarah. “Block him out. Evan can’t do anything as long as you’re holding onto him. Let him go.”
“I can’t abandon—”
“Now. This is serious. If he doesn’t recarb—”
He felt her upset. “All right. I will.” Her pain was like a living thing. Sarah pulled away, her shield coming up slowly, weaning both men out of her mind as gently as she could.
Steven looked to Jonas as he fisted the sheet in his hand and let out a strangled cry.
Sarah’s misery pulled at Steven through the opaque barrier of her shield. It hurt her to let Jonas go, but whether it hurt to lose his touch or because she was allowing herself to share his anguish was a mystery to Steven.
Jonas sobbed. “Sarah.” Her name was the barest whisper on his lips.
Evan cupped his head up and pushed the Coke at him again. “Drink it. You can’t have her until you’ve recovered. We won’t let you have her until you are.”
Jonas glared at him, but he started drinking. Steven breathed a sigh of relief as Evan cracked the second Coke. Evan ordered up food, while Jonas downed the second bottle. Jonas was still shaking heavily, but his mental state was clearing.
Evan traded the second empty for a fresh bottle. “What did you think you were doing?” he demanded. “I knew you were up to something, but—”
Jonas glanced Steven’s way then stared at his drink, the muscles in his bare arms bunching. “I needed to feel her in my arms, Evan. I needed to touch my baby.”
Steven shook his head. “Can you really do that?”
Jonas blushed. “I wasn’t sure I could, but it worked. I couldn’t let go. I miss her too much to stop.”
Evan rubbed the back of his neck and groaned. “Tell me you didn’t.”
Jonas didn’t answer. He drained the Coke in his hand and threw the plastic bottle against the wall.
Evan passed him another Coke. “Out of curiosity, are you insane?”
Jonas looked physically ill. “If I’m not, I will be soon. I need her, Evan. I can’t see pictures of her and hear about her life from other people and not touch her.”
Steven furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand. What is wrong here? What am I missing?”
Evan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “How is she, Steven?”
He shook his head. “Worried. A little upset, but more worried about Jonas than anything.”
“She’s okay? Be sure.”
Steven shot him a look of confusion. “I’m sure. She’s fine. Why wouldn’t she be?”
“I’d guess that she’s never had sex that way before, and neither has he.”
Steven spun and left the room, trying desperately to reconcile what Evan just said. What Jonas supposedly did wasn’t possible, was it? Sarah was unhurt. Steven made sure of that several times. Whatever Jonas did, he hadn’t hurt her, despite their fears.
Chapter Eleven
September 8th
Steven squared his shoulders, straightening the Kevlar silk-lined DoPT jacket. “I’m burning this damn thing after today,” he grumbled.
Evan chuckled. “Don’t try it. The fumes would be toxic. Just trash it. Is your badge out?”
Steven patted the silver-tone badge that pronounced him Alpha Two with a grimace. “Yeah. I’m as DoPT as I’m gonna get.”
He glanced at Jonas. The operative. That was the face that surveyed the assembled talents on the tra
nsport truck. There was no humor, no feeling. Steven hoped Sarah was never forced to see this cold, detached version of the man she loved.
Steven nudged Evan and jerked his thumb at Jonas. “He okay?” he whispered.
Griffin grunted. “He’s fine. It’s the training coming out. It’s too dangerous for him to go in feeling.”
Jonas turned his eyes to Steven, tossing a DoPT cap at him. “Keep your face straight or down and your collar up. Don’t look up. Snipers will have a more difficult time picking you off that way.”
Steven shuddered as he pulled the cap on. “That’s a cheery thought. What a wonderful world you people inhabit.”
Jonas ignored his comment. “They’ll go for me first. They have to.” That idea didn’t seem to bother him.
Griffin smoothed back his salt and pepper hair. “My boys will take out the guards. You have to focus on the big boys.”
“Gladly. Just remember that it’s my show in there. You take your cues from me. Not a move without me or you’ve made a new enemy.”
Griffin nodded, and Jonas turned from him.
Evan flipped his collar then nodded to Steven to do the same. His expression was suddenly as blank as Jonas’ was. Griffin followed suit. One by one, the talents around him became cold as marble. Steven shuddered. This was the life they led?
Jonas nodded. “Yes. It was, but not for much longer.”
Steven’s hands shook as he raised the collar on his jacket. The realization that people could live this way shook him enough. Jonas sliding past his shield to read his thoughts without warning was what frightened him most. Steven wondered if Jonas was simultaneously scanning everyone around him, then wished he hadn’t considered it when the other man met his eyes and nodded.
Jonas looked toward the front of the truck again. “They’ll let us in to put us off guard. The attack will come either in the rec room or one of the lockdown wings. They know I expect a trick, but they’ll be counting on me being distracted.”
Steven felt his stomach lurch. “Distracted by what?”
Evan answered in the same lifeless tone. “Sarah. They’ll use her against us. Don’t fall for it, or you’ll end up dead.”
“She’ll be in the middle of this?” Steven hadn’t counted on that. She was important to them. He thought they’d have her locked far away under heavy guard.