Mayhem’s Betryal-ARC Copy
Operation Mayhem Book 5
Lindsay Cross
This is an unedited advanced review copy not intended for resale.
Copyright © 2020 by Lindsay Cross
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 1
Dr. Melissa Averton leaned over and pressed her eyes to the high-powered microscope, studying the newest sample of experimental serum through weary eyes. Unconsciously, her hand drifted to her lower back, as if it could support her tired achy muscles.
With her other hand, she adjusted the lens as the nearly invisible magnified squiggly lines of the altered DNA beneath her blurred.
When that failed to clear things up, she dropped her hand to the table, rested her head on the microscope and blew out a long sigh. Dammit. Why couldn't she figure this out? She was an award-winning world-renowned researcher who’d solved impossible problems. But this one project was about to break her.
If she didn't crack the code and successfully modify the DNA sequence of the existing serum, lives would be lost. Lives she’d grown close to. So, close they were like her family. Maybe even closer than family because she rarely thought of her sister, who lived about three stories above the lab. Nearly every minute, of every day her thoughts were focused solely on the soldiers who also lived in the mansion above. Their lives were dependent upon her for their very existence.
“Melissa…”
She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the deep voice invading her senses from the other room. But try as she might, her thoughts were pulled from the sample to the impossibly handsome man locked in the glass cage behind her.
She gripped the side of the table, squeezing until her knuckles turned white and lifted her eyes back to the lens, determined to do her job. Distractions meant death. Any delay in her research was a risk no one could afford for her to take. Besides, the soldier behind her wasn’t a trusted teammate from Team Mayhem, the group of soldiers she was trying to save, he was a rebel. An abandoned member who tried to kill her team. And while he’d done nothing to try to escape since surrendering, he couldn’t be trusted.
“Melissa,” the voice came more forcefully this time.
Regretfully, she straightened, digging her fingers into her lower back. She turned to face the man who couldn’t be ignored any longer. “What?” She bit out.
His ice blue eyes didn’t so much as flicker at her terse response. “You need to take a break,” he said, the gravel in his voice transforming into silk. He spoke so low and so soft she could just barely detect him through the half inch circle of holes in the thick plated glass that separated them.
Her eyes narrowed, simultaneously irritated by the distraction and yet grateful still the same. Her inability to focus made studying the new samples useless. But, she wasn’t about to let him know that. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Instead of taking the bait, he slid his arms across his chest and leaned his shoulder against the wall of the small cell. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone busier than you,” he paused, scratching at his clean-shaven chin, “or anyone who’s simultaneously getting as little accomplished in the same breath.”
His calmly spoken words had her back straightening. “Excuse me?”
Of everyone in this mansion, John Dawson had been the one to witness firsthand the never-ending stream of hours upon hours she put in the lab every day, and sometimes nights, testing sample after sample of experimental serum. And now he was insulting her?
He lifted a hand. “That’s not what I meant. What I meant is that you need a break. You can only go so many hours without sleeping or eating before your own brain starts to shut down and you’re no use to anyone. You’ve been studying that single sample for nearly two hours.”
She jerked her chin up towards the clock on the wall and was surprised to see two a.m. Crap. The brief spurt of energy disappeared. Her shoulders deflated. She was letting them down, she was failing. Failing at the ultimate task of saving lives.
If the rate of injections she’d had to administer to the team had held constant over these past months, there wouldn’t be any reason to rush to find a cure. But as the days lengthened, their ability to go without injections shortened. The DNA altering serum she’d invented in the beginning to enhance their already above average performance had turned semi-cannibalistic, devouring their nutrients and damaging their cell membranes without increased dosages.
And John Dawson needed the serum even more.
Whatever General Rainier, the mad man behind Project Mayhem, had done to John in her absence had altered his molecular structure beyond that of the rest of his old team. And she knew he knew. Even though he hadn’t said a word, he’d had to of suspected something since she only had the team down once a week for their shots and he had to take them at twice that rate.
It was like she’d never tried anything at all. Like all the nights of sleep lost, meals missed, showers forgone were all pointless.
Under the order of General Rainier, he’d attacked his team, injured Diggs, and nearly blinded King. When the men had finally managed to take him down, he’d been more like an animal than a man.
And now they had him caged like a wild animal, too.
A wild beautiful animal she couldn’t stop thinking about, yet was expected to tame. His every word and action proved his lack of control. He couldn’t be trusted, yet she wanted to trust him.
God she was tired. Her hand drifted up to cover her eyes, fresh tears stinging the corners. She never cried, not since she was a child anyway, and yet these past few weeks she had to fight off the foreign feeling repeatedly.
Think, Melissa, think. There must be something you’re missing!
“Come here.”
Melissa thought about trying to pretend she hadn’t shown such a weakness right in front of him, but found she didn’t even have the energy for that. Instead she dropped her hand and stared at him helplessly.
“Melissa, come here,” he repeated, stepping close to the glass and raising his to the cool pane between them.
Without thought, she moved closer, losing herself in his intense blue gaze. All those awards meant absolutely nothing if she couldn’t solve this equation. They were worthless. As worthless as she was turning out to be.
“Put your hand to mine,” he said firmly.
Numbly, she did as instructed, lining up her much, much smaller hand on the ot
her side of the glass directly across from his.
His gaze locked with hers, stealing the numbness she was so blessedly seeking and instead flooding her with warmth. She sucked in a breath, her weakened pulse picking up steam.
“That’s good,” he said, “You are not worthless, you are literally the smartest person I’ve ever met. You are going to crack this research project and you are going to save all of us.”
Her body started to tingle, and she felt a heated buzzing soothing her mind, as if he were somehow forcibly relaxing every cell inside her.
Entranced, she could no more speak than she could tear her gaze from his. And she didn’t want to, God help her.
“Now, breathe with me, Melissa. Feel yourself relax. Slow. Steady.” His rate of speech slowed with each word, drawing his voice out so that she felt his calmness.
She matched her breathing to his, deep inhale, slow exhale. They were perfectly in sync.
She stopped thinking about the research, and she stopped thinking about the time. She stopped thinking about everything but the impossibly handsome man in front of her.
“That’s good, just relax. Let me take care of you,” he all but whispered.
Him take care of her? She wasn’t even allowed to let him out of his cell unless two members of the team were present. He’d betrayed the team, tried to kill the very men she was trying to save…
“Don’t do that. Don’t pull away for me. You can trust me. I turned myself in, remember?”
She stared at him, the buzzing in her mind growing stronger. She fought to form a solid thought. “You did, but only after they made you. You were surrounded by the entire team.”
John lowered his head, his blue eyes burning. “You and I both know I could’ve gotten out if I wanted to. I surrendered because I knew it was the right thing to do. They are still my team.”
“So, you don’t think they betrayed you?” She barely got the words out. She’s been there the night he crashed the Humvee through the front of the mansion. The very sight of him ripping through the door still haunted her dreams.
“I’m not sure on that point, but I am sure they have my daughter, and they’re taking care of her. They’re taking care of my sister.” There was a long pause. “And they have you on their side. I might not trust them, but I trust you.”
Her breathing quickened. She wanted to trust him, every instinct inside of her called out to trust him, but her mind refused to follow suit. “No.”
“Yes. Stop thinking with your head. Feel me.” He leaned closer, resting his forehead to the glass.
She closed her eyes, feeling the electric heat pass through her. He was addictive. Even with her eyes shut, she could see him. His taught shoulders straining the black fabric of his t-shirt. The muscles thick and hard. The strong, scarred arms that seemed big enough to wrap around her and support them both.
But…He’d been working for General Rainier, the enemy of Team Mayhem. She would be a fool to blindly trust him after just a month. More than likely he was a plant, sent here to lower their guards and lead the general to them so that he could resume his awful experiment to enhance the emotions right out of them and turn them into mindless killing machines for hire.
With a force of will that strained her frayed nerves, she pulled her hand free of the glass. The warm buzzing disappeared and the weakness returned to her muscles instantly. If she hadn’t locked her knees she would’ve collapsed. “I don’t trust you.”
His hard lips slid into a tight smile. “You will.”
Chapter 2
John fought against the pounding in his temples, the headache he'd been fighting all afternoon morphing into a full-blown migraine from the exertion of trying to calm her. He couldn't read her exact thoughts, but he could feel what she was thinking. Feel her anxiety, her stress and her disappointment. But underneath that, he could also feel her awareness of him. Her mind didn’t trust him yet, but her body did. And while it wasn’t perfect, he could work with that. "Go get some rest. You'll be able to think better, and you'll feel better. You know I'm right."
She stared listlessly at him, the dark purple shadows under her eyes like bruises. "They need me."
John laid his head against the glass, taking a deep breath, inhaling her sweet scent through the holes in his cell. He needed her. "That's right. We all need you. And we need you fully functioning and healthy."
He took a deep breath, and focused on her, not his pain. He tried to push his thoughts towards her. Rest. Sleep. It was something he'd been experimenting with while stuck in the cell.
She wavered on her feet. "Me rest? You're awake, too."
Because I can't sleep when you're near. His body was wired, his cock hard. Every time she shifted, the whisper fabric against her skin drove him insane. Being this close to her for so long and not being able to touch her was driving him crazy. "You know I don't need as much sleep as you do."
And like he could relax with her so close anyway.
He couldn't help but let his eyes rake down her body. She’d discarded her lab coat hours ago, and the formfitting button up green blouse set off her dark eyes, her high waisted slacks enhanced her narrow waist and then flared out over generous hips. His mouth went dry thinking about all the beauty that was beneath those clothes.
"Stop it," she whispered.
His eyes snapped up to her face, her cheeks were flushed, her lush lips parted. He licked his lips. "Stop what?"
"That. Stop that.” She emphasized her words.
Was he getting to her? Was she feeling what he was feeling? That he was going to go insane if he couldn't taste her. Touch her. Explore her.
"That!" She cried out.
Satisfaction curled through him, throwing fuel on the fire of arousal pent-up inside him. As if he could stop thinking about her. As if she could stop thinking about him. He felt his lips turn up at the corner. "You feel it too.”
Heat flushed up her neck. He followed it down to the top button on her shirt and the hint of cleavage just barely peeking over.
"I- I- I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered.
"Yes, you do," he said softly. "I can see it. I can smell it. Come closer.” He palmed the glass, aching for her to do the same. When she got that close, he could touch her.
She shook her head wildly, stumbling back a step. “No! Stop.”
If she would just come back to him. "Melissa, I need you." He ground the words out, unable to keep them to himself any longer. He was going insane locked up in here. Watching her but not touching. He put all his energy to try and draw her back to him.
Her chest rose and fell with sharp, shallow breaths and she kept going back, back until she bumped into the table and clutched the edge. "You're right, I need to sleep. My mind is not working right at all."
"Melissa, don't…" But she was already gone, the electronic security lock beeping as she flashed her card over the pad and shoved through the door. The loud click at the lock snapped into place like an icepick to his head.
John dropped to his knees, clutching his temples, the roaring pain exploding inside him. Her nearness had held it at bay, taking over his every thought. But in her absence, he was left strung out. Acid bile rushed up his throat and he swallowed, falling to his side on the cold tile floor. He'd known better than to put that much energy into trying to reach her mentally. Dammit, he had no logic when it came to her. Just pure blinding need to protect her. And make her his.
He tucked his knees to his chest and slammed his eyes shut as the blackness crept towards him. He’s suspected he had some type of telepathic ability, but had never really been able to test the possibility until now. He’d given a few half-hearted attempts on the rest of the team, but that yielded nothing. It was only with Quantum, and Melissa, that he could feel something from them. But he’d never tried as hard as he just had and now he’d pay the price.
John tried to slow his breathing and get the pain under control. He counted. One. Two. Three. “Aahhh,” he groaned. Not
hing helped. Laser pin pricks of lights jabbed at his vision. He needed a shot of serum.
He needed her. “Melissa…”
Chapter 3
She ran on shaky legs to the staircase from the underground lab, raced up to the door, grabbed the metal handle and froze. John. She could feel him. He needed her. She sucked in a breath, her chest strangely cold.
No. He was doing this to her. He was in her thoughts, her mind. He was driving her crazy. Telepathy, in any form, did not exist. Super strength, speed and enhanced vision and hearing – those were real. She’d altered them herself with DNA and training. But John wasn’t using any kind of physical skills to communicate with her. The buzzing she experienced wasn’t normal. It had to be just an intense physical desire for him – and why not? She wasn’t blind. He was hot. Extremely so.
Melissa…
She leaned against the door, closing her eyes. He was not in her head. It was not possible. The lack of sleep and proper nutrition for extended periods of time was causing her to become delusional.
She drew in a breath, fighting the burning need to turn around and run back to him. How long had it been since she’d been with a man? Months? No. Years. Geez, that had to be it. She wasn’t a zombie. She knew how the human body functioned. It was perfectly normal and natural to desire someone, the brain was built around that basic need. And just like any other normal bodily function neglected for extended periods of time, the more the body would crave it.
Mayhem's Betrayal: Operation Mayhem Book 5 Page 1
