by Helen Scott
"Get on, beautiful," he says, smiling at me as his eyes twinkle with promise in the dark.
"Why can you guys never just tell me where we're going?" I complain as I climb on behind him.
"We're full of surprises, what can I say?" Crash replies before pressing a button on the handlebars and letting the engine roar to life.
It’s no use trying to reply over the growl of the engine so I just save my breath and hold on, wrapping my arms around Crash's waist. He pulls away nice and easy and we glide through the gate that had been opened for Striker and Dragon as they left. Once we are through, I look over my shoulder to find Phoenix just behind us, and behind him the gate is rolling shut once more. A young kid in a prospect cut glares at us from the control panel.
The way he watches me sends a shiver down my spine, as though I can sense the anger rolling off him even from the back of Crash's bike.
It feels like hours pass before we start to slow down and travel on quieter streets, not that anyone is really out to begin with this late at night.
The moon has risen high in a cloudless sky, which is the only reason I can make anything out. We've turned down a side road and all four men have killed the headlights on their bikes so we are traveling in the dark. The only exception is the red glow of the tail lights when we all slow to a stop.
When the rumble of their bikes cut out the lack of sound is deafening. We all dismount, even me, though I am beyond confused as to why we've parked in an alley in the warehouse district. When I pull the helmet off, I rub the back of my head where the tie for my ponytail is, trying to relieve some of the ache from where it has been pressing against my skull.
It’s Striker that turns toward me with a grim look on his face. "About a half-mile to the west is a facility much like the one we rescued you from. We don't know how many experiments they have inside, or what kind of security or guards they have since this is a last-minute mission. We're also here to test your abilities. The four of us work well as a unit together, so we can keep you safe, but we have to know if you have the ability to control yourself and your ability when in a volatile situation."
His words leave my heart galloping in my chest and my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. I’m sure that if I enter another facility run by the cabal, or rather the Necron Order, since I know their name now, that I won't make it back out. They'll send those monsters to get me, or maybe kill me. Luckily, because of these men, I never found out which their goal was when they attacked the compound.
"I can't go in there," I whisper, my voice shaky to my own ears.
Phoenix steps in front of Striker and blocks out my vision until all I can see is him. "You've been through worse. This is nothing but walking into a building and clearing out as many of those monsters as we can and walking back out. Nothing is going to keep you there. I swear it. And now with your fancy schmancy power, you won't need us to protect you."
"Yeah, right." A smile tugs at the corner of my lips even though my chest feels tight and my head is tingling.
Dragon shoves Phoenix out of the way until he is right there, taking up just as much of my vision as his brother had, and seeing them both so close, one right after the other, I have no doubt that they are twins. Phoenix may have longer hair than Dragon, but the dark slashes of their eyebrows and the perfect pout to their lips leaves no question of their relationship to one another. Even just being brothers wouldn't have them looking so similar. If Dragon didn't perpetually look like he was smirking then I’m sure it would have been obvious even earlier.
Those hazel eyes of his are just staring down at me, as serious as I've ever seen him. "You need to pick whose power you want and stay close to them. I'd suggest either myself or Striker since we have the most offensive powers. Crash and Phoenix will keep you safe but their powers aren't as actionable and could leave you vulnerable."
"No offense, but I don't exactly want those monsters wanting to fuck me," I said.
"I don't just do lust. I do all emotions. You make them feel enough fear and they will piss themselves before they think about attacking you," Dragon replies, his cocky smirk back in place. "People always want to have mind control as their power, but in reality, people, and creatures, follow their emotions more than their thoughts. You control their emotions, you control them."
"Have you been controlling me?" The question pops out, bypassing the filter in my brain and leaving me wondering why I just asked that.
Dragon's face goes serious again. "No, never. Influencing, maybe, but only because you were freaking out. The only thing I ever try and control is those monsters, but they are difficult. Their aggression is so high, their fear of their captors or controllers or whatever they are can override whatever emotion I'm trying to push on them. My power will at least give you some distance though. Striker's is obviously the most aggressive power, but you'll have to get up close and personal with these assholes for it to work."
"It's good if you want to work out some aggression," Striker says ominously from somewhere behind Dragon.
As though hearing his friend's voice reminded him that we weren't alone, Dragon steps back and I can see the four of them once more. For the first time that evening, I really look at them. They'd added some stuff while Phoenix and Dragon were talking to me. They now have black tactical vests that look like they are bulletproof, or at least attempting to be, to their outfits and for the first time since I've met them, they aren't wearing their cuts. There are also black choker looking things around their throats, and guns have appeared from somewhere.
Suddenly I’m not standing in front of some members of an MC, but mercenaries, or maybe avenging angels, because I’m fairly sure no one is paying them to do this shit. I gulp as I watch Dragon pull his vest and matching black choker from the saddlebags of his bike and slip both of them on. The choker is first, sliding around his throat before plugging in to something on his belt, then the vest slips over top, securing the wires and protecting him all at the same time.
When I’m able to look away, I see Crash holding out a vest and choker to me as well. "What is this?" I ask, taking the choker from his hand.
"A throat mic. It picks up the vibrations of your vocal cords so you can just whisper and we will hear you. Hook this piece into your ear and this bit around your throat, then this clips to your pants the cable plugs into it." He hands me the different parts as he speaks and I do as he asks, though my hands are shaking the whole time.
"Bulletproof vest. It'll protect you, but only so much, and if you get shot it'll still hurt like hell, but it won't kill you." Crash hands me the vest and helps me slide it over my t-shirt.
"Do I get a gun?" I ask, feeling odd being weaponless.
"Do you know how to fire one?" Striker asks, his eyes watching me like a hawk.
I hesitate for the briefest of moments but it’s enough.
"How about a couple knives instead?" Crash asks before turning back to his saddlebags and withdrawing two blades that wink in the moonlight. They are both almost as long as my forearm and have a diamond shape to the blade.
"I'll take them," I say, feeling better now I’m armed.
"Crash goes first with Phoenix and Dragon following. You'll stay with me toward the back, unless you'd prefer to be with Dragon. We break in, kill the bad guys, clear out. Understood?"
I nod and steel myself for what is to come. I know death follows these men around. I've been able to sense it since the beginning, but now I’m going to see it first hand. My only hope is that I will survive what is to come and pass this test of theirs.
24
Dani
Everyone starts heading toward the building, Striker and I bringing up the rear. I keep glancing at him beneath the moonlight, and for some reason, even though I should be focused on the task at hand, I keep thinking about his cock. When we’d been at that gas station, I’d felt so different after using my powers. Like a live wire. At first I’d only flirted with the guy inside because it reminded me of what I might do in an
other world, in another life, where I was normal. And then when Dragon had come crashing in, treating me like one of the whores that seemed to be there to meet the bikers needs, I’d been pissed.
How that had turned into me sucking Striker off, I’m not sure. It’s embarrassing to think about, but it also makes me remember that they’d never finished getting me off. And the more I think about it, and the more I look at Striker, the harder it is to think about anything else.
Suddenly, he looks back at me, and his gaze darkens.
He slows his steps and wraps a hand around my waist before leaning in to whisper in my ear, “We can deal with that later. We need to focus right now.”
I feel my cheeks heat and am glad it’s too dark for him to see me blushing. “I’m not thinking about anything.”
“You sure you aren’t remembering what it was like to suck my cock?”
I’m breathing hard. “You guys are doing something to me. I’m not like this. I can’t remember the last time I wanted one guy, and now I’m constantly thinking about fucking four of them. It must be Dragon’s damned powers.”
Dragon’s voice comes in through the ear set. “Afraid that’s all you. Now we can talk about the four us fucking you later. Right now, we need to focus.”
Hell, my cheeks are burning. How had I forgotten that everything I was saying would be heard by all of them? And what had I said? I’d admitted to the fact that I found all of them attractive. Damn it.
Striker’s hand drops from around my waist, but he gives my ass a tight squeeze before letting go, and this time he whispers, and the sound comes over the headset. “Everything’s going to be fine, babe.”
We keep going until the guys pause at the end of a corner. Dragon gestures in a way I don’t understand, and then he and Crash go ahead. When we reach the corner, I look around and watch Crash and Dragon take out two guys standing outside of a door. Their movements are so quick and silent, that it’s almost a shock when the two guards slump over on the ground. They pick them up, then drop them behind a dumpster.
Dragon gestures at us, and Phoenix heads toward them. I start to follow, but Striker grabs my arm, and we both stay in place. One of the guys kneels down and plays with the lock. A second later, the door swings open.
Crash’s voice comes softly in my ear. “All clear.”
We dart out from the alley and run for the door. The other guys have disappeared inside when we follow. Striker closes the door softly behind us, and then I look into the room and realize it’s a giant warehouse of some kind. Fluorescent emergency lights far above light the space in red, just enough for us to see by, but it manages to somehow make the place creepier than if it was pitch black.
Crash, Phoenix, and Dragon split off ahead of us, going in different directions. Striker and I flatten against the wall and wait. We hear fighting over the headset, but it’s soft: a few murmurs, gasps, the sound of flesh striking flesh, and silence.
“All clear,” Crash whispers.
“Clear,” Phoenix says.
“Clear,” Dragon repeats.
Striker nods and points ahead of us, then starts to lead me. As we weave through a warehouse filled with aisle after aisle of stuff on massive shelves that nearly reaches to the roof, a strange feeling comes over me. Striker keeps moving forward, but I’m slowing. My feet seem to want me to go in a different direction, and I know how stupid it’d be to split off from him, but I slow until I stop. My gaze moves down a different aisle, and before I can rethink it, I’m going the opposite direction from Striker.
The further I move ahead, the more right it feels. The more confident my steps grow. At the end of the hall is a room with a door. I move to the door, stop in front of it, and release a slow breath. Reaching a hand out, I pray the door isn’t locked, then turn the handle. To my relief, it moves, and I push the door open. Inside, it’s dark, except for something that glows a soft blue.
My gaze clings to the small light, and I enter the room as if drawn by an invisible force. The closer I get, the brighter the blue light becomes until I’m standing in front of a table. On it, two daggers glow brightly, and I know this is why I’m here. I know this is what I was supposed to find.
“Damn it.” I hear Striker over the headset. “Dani? Where are you?”
I ignore him, focusing entirely on the daggers. My hands reach out, trembling ever so slightly, and I close my hands around the hilts. The second I do, the blue glow melts away, replaced by red, and a shudder wracks my body. It feels so good to hold the daggers. They’re cool and perfectly balanced.
Twisting my wrists, I watch as the light that illuminates the blades dances in front of my eyes.
“Dani,” I hear Dragon growl my name.
I blink and the glow fades from the daggers. The pulling fades away, and I turn away from the table and head back out the door feeling strange.
“Dani, fucking answer!” Dragon’s voice is filled with rage.
“I’m okay,” I whisper.
There’s a sigh of relief in my ear.
“Our information was wrong. I don’t know what the hell this place is, but it’s not a testing facility. Meet back at the door.”
My heart hammers. Do I know which way the door is? I look at the emergency lights and choose what I hope is the right direction. A few minutes tick by. The silence around me is deafening.
Someone touches my shoulder.
I whirl around and strike out with the daggers.
Striker jumps out of the way just in time to avoid my blow. Then he grabs me by the forearms and presses me against the shelf. His expression is thunderous.
“Sorry, I--”
I’m shocked when he kisses me. It’s hard, possessive, and angry. When he starts to pull back, he bites my lower lip, and there’s a threat in his eyes that I can’t ignore.
Then he whirls around and I hear his voice through the headset. “Stay close. This time.”
We head back outside and find the alley still quiet, just as before. Our group sticks close together as we circle back to our bikes, and no one speaks until we spot our bikes up ahead.
“Well, that was a waste of fucking time,” Crash says.
Phoenix shrugs. “Just bad info.”
I look down at the daggers in my hands. Should I tell them? Or will they think I’m crazy? For some reason, I feel like it’s important they know that place wasn’t what it seemed to be, but I also don’t want to start talking about glowing daggers.
“I think that place was run by the order…”
Phoenix looks back at me. “Why do you say that?”
At the same time Crash asks, “You feel that?” His tone is grim and leaves me with a knot of fear in my stomach as the guys visibly tense around me.
Suddenly, dark shapes drop down from the rooftops, and a cry of warning slips from my lips. But it’s too late, the monsters…they’ve found us. And they outnumber us easily two to one. I grip my daggers as one of them growls and leaps toward me.
Fuck. Was this a trap?
25
Dani
The animal-like being leaping toward me is quickly taken down by Striker and his silenced pistol. Two shots to the chest and one to the head. That doesn't make me safe, though. There are more shapes amassing behind the ones that initially dropped down to the point that I want to yell at the guys to run, never mind anything else.
There is no way for the four of them to fight this many off. It's too overwhelming.
Just as they are getting going though, the beasts part and a figure walks between them, like a shepherd through a herd of sheep. Vicious, snarling, death-machine sheep.
"Gentleman, let's not have any more violence than necessary," the figure says. When he stops in front of our little group, I can see that he is wearing a fedora and a tailored suit, which definitely makes him look out of place among the pack of rabid monsters, four bikers, and me. Add in the fact that he is walking with a cane as well, and the guy looks like he is in the wrong time period.
&nbs
p; "Who the fuck are you?" Dragon snarls.
"I'm the man you stole from. Thank you for returning my property. Come, Six-two-nine-one."
Fear coils low in my belly. The number is as familiar to me as my own name. In fact, it had been my name for years while I was under the tender care of the scientists. Are the guys giving me back to the Necron Order?
"We're not giving you shit," Phoenix growls as though answering my unspoken question.
"You can either give me my property back or my pets will destroy you. It's your choice. Personally, I'd rather live, but then it doesn't look like you're doing a very good job at that either, so maybe choosing death is understandable." The man's snide remarks remind me of the lead scientist who had worked on me. It can't be him though, can it? They said they'd killed anyone who wasn't a prisoner. Did that mean he was faking it until they left? Or had they lied to me?
"Mengele? Right?" I ask as I move forward through the guys, rolling the daggers in my hands so they aren't as visible. I can tell from the shifting back and forth the guys are doing that they're uncomfortable with my actions, but they aren't stopping me either, which I appreciate.
"So nice to be remembered," he says, his teeth flashing in the glow of the street light, while his hat still hides most of his face.
"You tortured me. Kinda hard to forget that."
"Kind of. Kinda isn't a word," he replies, sounding offended by how I use the English language.
"Do you honestly think that I would willingly go back with you?" I ask as I edge closer. Anger burns through my veins like a wildfire, urging me onward, promising me that I will find some relief from the horrors that visit my dreams if I act on my need for vengeance.
"No, but as you can see, I did not come alone." He spread his hands to each side and his monsters grumble as though I need to be reminded that they're there, like I can't already see them, and they need to alert me to their presence. "If you come willingly, I'll spare these men. If you don't, their deaths will be on your conscience."
