“You know you’ve always been the easiest of your brothers to read,” she said.
“I know.” That’s what she thought. Madison was tough to play, but he’d figured out years ago how to manipulate her. False vulnerability and full truth worked because she liked to see reactions. So he reacted outwardly while his brain raced internally. For now, he’d allow her to believe she was smarter than he was, but at this point, she wasn’t even close.
“I wonder if your weakness is from being the youngest, or if you inherited such traits from your maternal egg donor?” Madison tapped her chin.
“I don’t know.” Jory shrugged, changing tactics to keep her off balance and camouflage how much he needed an answer about his brothers. “Who was my maternal egg donor?”
She sighed. “Who cares? We paid for eggs from extraordinary genetic pools, and those women never wanted the ensuing children.”
Jory kept his face blank, not even feeling the words that should cut deep. Who the hell cared about what came before? The Dean brothers shared a paternal donor, and their identical gray eyes served as a genetic marker. They’d given up long ago of finding any information on maternal donors—they didn’t have mothers and never would. “I care little about genetics,” he said.
“Yet it’s so interesting how similar you boys are but how differently you handle the same situation,” she mused.
“How would my brothers handle you?” he asked.
She smiled. “Shane would try to charm me for the answer, while Nathan would harass me like a rottweiler fighting for a bone. Matt? Well, Matt would play mind games and twist me up until I gave the information.”
“I’m aware of my brothers’ talents.” Jory preferred hard drives to humans, which made Madison’s brain easy to mine. The woman was almost a computer, completely lacking in emotion. Long ago, he’d given up his soul, so begging didn’t mean much to him, even if he had meant it. “Please tell me.”
She typed something in on her tablet. “As far as I know, Mathew and Shane are alive. They didn’t help Nathan on the ground in DC, but I have no doubt they assisted in planting explosives.”
Electricity sparked down Jory’s torso, and his shoulders straightened. Alive. His brothers were all alive. Now he had a short time to keep it that way. “Thank you,” he murmured.
She glanced up, and her eyes slowly focused. “There’s more.”
Man, she loved to see him beg, didn’t she? “Oh?” Jory had given her all the satisfaction she’d get this morning. Either she’d give him the rest of the details, or she wouldn’t.
“Yes.” She frowned, irritation sparking through her blue eyes. “Shane went back for that woman he’d used on a mission once, and Matt kidnapped one of our doctors who’d betrayed us. They’ve committed themselves to women.”
Now Jory did smile. “Bullshit.” Whatever game she played, she could roll the dice by herself. He could see Nate rescuing Audrey since they’d gotten together so long ago, but no way would Shane or Matt drag a woman into the shitstorm of their lives. “Nice try, Madison.”
She nodded, her forehead smoothing. “I don’t understand, either. Soon we’ll have them back home, and I can figure them out.”
Oh, hell no. His brothers were never getting caught again, and Jory needed freedom to deactivate the kill chips near their spines implanted almost five years ago. He eyed the outside door. So close and yet so damn far. “Why do you want us here? I just don’t get it.”
“The commander and the organization are being attacked, and your skills and training are needed.” Her voice remained level, but fire lit her eyes. “From several sides. The U.S. government is looking at our financials, there are competing firms out there getting stronger, and an organized fundamentalist group wants the commander shut down.”
“Good. Then leave us the hell alone.” He’d love to light the entire organization on fire, and he would. The second he got out of the cage and saved his brothers.
“That will never happen. Our base inland will be much more appropriate to contain you and yours, and it is a good place to retrain you. You’ll be transferred within a few days.” Madison glanced back down at her tablet.
His head lifted. If he allowed the transfer to a more secured facility, he’d never get free, so it was time to make a move. “I’m tired of gym shorts and T-shirts, and these tennis shoes are a size too small.” He rested broad hands on his hips and glared around the dismal cell. One cot sat in a corner, and a bare-bones bathroom took residence around a partial wall. “Get me out of here.”
“Why?” She arched one fine eyebrow. “That kill chip by your C4 vertebra will detonate in one week and you’ll die. Your best chance of survival is staying here.”
His eyelids slowly rose, so he flattened his hands on the bulletproof glass and leaned in. “The chip you screwed up? Yeah. I’m not expecting a rescue there.” The bastard scientists had implanted kill chips near the Dean brothers’ spines, and if the correct code wasn’t entered in the right computer program in a week, the chips would activate and sever their spines. Unfortunately, the code changed every thirty seconds, so getting a lock on it from a distance had been all but impossible.
Of course, no damn code worked for Jory. “We both know I’m fucked.”
“I do wish you’d watch your language. As a child, you were so well mannered.” Dr. Madison typed something into her tablet. “I didn’t make a mistake on the chips. When you got yourself shot, a bullet ricocheted off the chip, and it’s damaged. It’s shocking the device didn’t explode then and there.” She pursed her lips as if pondering what to have for dinner. “Just shocking.”
“Who shot me?”
Madison lifted a slim shoulder. “You have the highest IQ ever recorded, young man. Those memories are in that impressive brain, and you need to access them.”
Jory rubbed his eyes. Having no memory of a devastating event was normal, damn it. He might never remember who’d shot him.
But he remembered blowing his cover at the scientific facility where he had been gathering information about the commander’s organization. He’d scanned the wrong computer system and had set off alarms, resulting in a flash grenade and drugs pumped into his system.
Damn rookie move because he’d been in a hurry and so close to finding the program to deactivate the kill chips. He’d deserved to get shot for his carelessness.
For now, he was a fucking monkey in a cage, and he had to get out of there before his impressive brain melted. So he tried reason. “Madison? I have one week to live. For once, have a heart and let me live out my last days.” It was the closest he’d come to asking the brilliant scientist for anything after she’d started hitting on him when he’d reached puberty. She had a record for playing with cadets, and he’d kept his distance, as had his brothers, he was sure.
“I didn’t raise you to be a quitter. Don’t worry. I have a plan,” she said.
As usual, he’d have to work against her. He shoved a hand through his hair, which had begun to curl at his nape. “What’s the plan?” If he was going to figure out a way to save his brothers, he had to get out of there.
“For one thing, I’d like to schedule you for another MRI. Your brain is functioning… abnormally.” She stared at his forehead as if she could see into his gray matter, her lip curling. “I’m having a PET scan set up for later today, also.”
Fuck, shit, and damn it all to hell. He couldn’t let her discover his special abilities, nor those of his brothers. They’d succeeded for years in hiding the very skills that had kept them alive. But ever since the coma, something new percolated in his mind. Something he apparently couldn’t hide now. “You’ve been doing scans for months. Nothing is different.”
“The scans from last week are different.” She tapped a red fingernail against her lips.
Yeah. His best guess was that new paths had been forged in his brain during the coma, and a weird tingling in his lobe had begun the previous week. Maybe it was his special abilities increasing in pow
er, or maybe it was something new. Either way, he had to mask the truth.
Two heartbeats echoed from outside the room, so he tilted his head to hear better while trying to appear bored. Dr. Madison had no clue about his heightened senses or his extra abilities, and he needed to keep it that way.
A soldier entered first, followed by a woman in her mid-twenties, who slid out from behind him.
Jory’s breath caught in his throat. Exquisite. For once, that word could be applied accurately. She stood to about five foot six in black boots wearing a matching leather jacket. Light mocha-colored skin, curly black hair, and eyes greener than the most private parts of Ireland.
She took one look at him and stepped back.
He moved forward and flashed a smile that made her eyes widen. If he had to scare her to make her leave, he’d do it. Anybody seeing him in captivity would be killed by the commander after serving their purpose. So he forced sexual tension to filter through the room.
How he could do it, he wasn’t sure. Maybe pheromones and bodily heat waves, and the ability came easier now than it had before the coma. It was a hell of an advantage to use sometimes, and he ignored Madison’s quick intake of breath when he employed it.
“Is she for me?” he asked, forcing his gaze to run over the newcomer’s body and surprising himself when he hardened in response. God. He’d been on a mission and then in a coma for two years before spending time in captivity recuperating. When was the last time he’d gotten laid? Way too long ago.
He’d always liked women, although he’d never gotten close to one. Not really. They were either part of a mission or worked as doctors in the facility, and those certainly couldn’t be trusted.
This one was petite with delicate bone structure and clear, intelligent eyes. Whatever her purpose, she sure as hell didn’t belong in the dismal place. Hopefully she’d turn on her heel and get out since he’d leered at her.
Instead she lifted one eyebrow. Her face flushed. “So that’s him.”
Well, damn. Another angel with the heart of a demon. A pang landed squarely in Jory’s chest. Beauty should never be evil. “Yeah, that’s me,” he murmured, dropping the sensual attack. “Who are you?”
She opened her mouth and shut it as Dr. Madison shook her head. “It doesn’t matter who she is,” Madison muttered. Grasping the woman’s arm, Madison led her over to a computer console. “Get to work, and remember the rules.”
The woman jerked free and stepped away from Madison. She eyed Madison like an opponent in a boxing ring—with wariness and determination.
Jory frowned, and his instincts started to hum. Was the woman a prisoner, like him? Maybe he could gain them both freedom, with her help. She was outside of the cage, now wasn’t she? He smiled.
Dr. Madison glanced back toward Jory, her gaze narrowing. “Leave her alone to work, and I won’t have you tranquilized again.” With that, she allowed the soldier to escort her from the room, and the door nicked shut behind her.
The woman sat at the console and turned toward him. “Piper. My name is Piper.” She eyed the partition. Her voice was smooth and sexy… feminine. She guarded her expression well. “They didn’t give me your name.”
Yeah. They wouldn’t have thought to give his name. “Jory.” He really liked the way her tight jeans hugged her curves, and he appreciated the intelligence sizzling in those spectacular eyes. She’d have to be smart to help him escape. “Why are you here, Piper?”
She exhaled slowly and stretched out her fingers. “I’m here to save you, Jory.”
CHAPTER
2
PIPER KEPT TYPING in code, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She couldn’t spend another day failing at the task, if for no other reason than succeeding would piss off Dr. Madison. The snotty doctor gloated each and every day the solution remained outside of Piper’s reach, her dislike evident in every condescending sniff.
The rudeness was personal and not from any sense of betrayal or righteous anger. If the doctor had been pissed Piper hacked into the organization’s server a couple of years ago, accidentally earning her a job, then Piper could understand her behavior. But that wasn’t it.
Not even close.
And now? Now Piper had been assigned the most important task in the entire organization—saving the prisoner’s life. Why he mattered, she hadn’t been told.
But everything seemed to be riding on her ability with computers.
Once a hacker, always a hacker—but now she had the chance to do something good with her skills. Something honorable that would cement her position with the organization because of her abilities and not connections.
Saving the man in the cell’s life would make her very, very useful. Plus, the mere idea of a kill chip implanted near the man’s spine was sneaky, and the notion of using a computer program to murder offended her.
So she put her head down and worked hard. Although the myriad of soldiers outside the doorway, armed to the gills, sped up her heart rate and slowed down her typing. Too many guns suddenly surrounded her.
She bit her lip and tried to ignore the itch between her shoulder blades. She’d worked for hours, her mind spinning. After trying unsuccessfully to engage her in conversation, Jory had gone quiet.
But he’d been watching her the entire time. His gaze almost felt physical, and a tension, a layered change in the atmosphere around them, seemed to come from the man in the cell. She’d read about charisma, and she understood tension, as well as instinct. Hers told her the guy had been watching her.
She just knew it.
Or maybe her imagination had gone amuck in the military-like facility, and he’d stretched out to sleep on the narrow cot, forgetting all about her. Was he watching or wasn’t he? Unanswered questions pricked her like needles. So finally giving up, she turned to face him.
Nope. He remained sitting, his gaze thoughtful on her. “I thought you’d never turn my way.” Through the Plexiglas, his voice emerged deep and softened.
“I have work to do.” She brushed hair off her forehead and tried not to squirm. Years ago she’d read a book featuring a hero with the face of a fallen angel, and she had rolled her eyes, while imagining a light-skinned, blue-eyed cherub having curly golden hair that so was not sexy.
Now, facing masculine, sculpted perfection… she understood. Angels held ideal beauty, while a fallen one would probably appear dark and deadly, like the man facing her. Gods had chiseled Jory’s face into hard lines and sharp angles. The nearly brutal contours were arranged with full lips, dark brows, and a firm jaw. An unusual gray colored his eyes into the deepest of storm clouds, and a small scar cut into his left eyebrow, hinting at danger and strength.
Any woman would be attracted to him and find him compelling. Alone, in the utilitarian cell, his beauty alone would tempt any romantic to try and save him.
Bad guy or not.
He overwhelmed the cot, his hands and feet beyond large. Most guys his size looked like overgrown puppies, but the thought of comparing the warrior to a scampering animal was laughable at best.
“You’re wasting your time with trying to engage the chip,” he said. “I strongly suggest you give up now and get out of here.”
Charismatic and too handsome, without question. A sense of sexual danger all but cascaded off him, and she had the oddest sense he knew it. Maybe even controlled it—which did nothing but intrigue her more.
She shook her head. The military place full of secrets was messing with her imagination, and the romanticism she had to tamp down. Her stash of romances would remain untouched for a while, and after the job had been successfully completed, she’d reward herself with a weekend of binging on alpha males and surreal adventures.
For now, she’d get the job done.
He watched her face as if fascinated by an engaging television show. Could he read her so easily? As if responding to her unasked question, he smiled. Even teeth, a flash of white in a devastating face.
Her breath sped up, and flutters bea
t through her abdomen. Her brain tried to shut down any response, while her body flared alive. A flush spread like wildfire up from her chest and over her face with such a force her skin flamed.
How was he doing that?
Her head snapped up. While her body seemed to be on the blink, her mind remained clear, but now incredibly intrigued. “I can figure out how to wirelessly reach your chip,” she said, quietly pleased when her voice remained steady.
“No, you can’t. While I appreciate the Hail Mary pass, you can’t reconnect to the chip. It’s damaged. Off-line. Unreachable. Trust me.” His earnest expression would probably gain him admittance to heaven if he asked nicely.
Considering that her taste in men truly sucked until just recently, it figured she’d be attracted to him. But really, who wouldn’t be? The guy was every movie hero, romance novel antihero, and sexy villain she’d ever seen all trumbled into one seriously hot package.
But he was full of shit, and he’d just made his first mistake. No way—no way had he given up on life so easily. Nobody worked at staying in such amazing physical shape to just roll over and die. Well, unless he had another reason to stay fit. “Trust you? Seriously?”
He cocked his head to the side and lifted one eyebrow. “Sure. Why not?”
She could take the mocking, and she could handle the tension he seemed to shoot her way. But treating her as a dumb girl and trying to charm her into trust? Hell to the no.
She rushed from her chair and toward the cell. So stupid to let her temper free. Darn Irish blood. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re a traitor?” Damn it. She couldn’t let him get under her skin, but anybody who’d turn against their own country should be shot. Not saved. And somebody that freakin’ amazingly hot had so many advantages in life it was even worse he’d chosen the wrong path. “Here I am trying to fix the chip planted in your back.”
He stood slowly and deliberately, his dark gaze keeping hers, his expression inscrutable. “Who do you think planted the chip?”
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