Fucking around with a highly-functioning brain was so much more fun.
Rising from the desk with some difficulty, Braxton took the elevator down to the deepest level and entered the shielded room. He took the two gadgets with Brightman’s yellow striping and loaded them into a box to take upstairs.
All the while imagining her whimpering on her knees, pounded hard from behind by one of his own personal creations.
Simone Brightman was the embodiment of the play-it-safe concept that ruled Obsidian lately. They were all about profit. Staying in control. Leery of cutting-edge innovation, Braxton’s specialty. He despised those fucking bean-counting cowards, and her along with them. Pretty and bland and prim and obedient. So easy to control and contain. Just plug her in and watch her work. No danger. No downside.
Other than mind-numbing terminal boredom.
But he had created ruthless, unstoppable warriors. The most dangerous in the world. And no one thanked him for his efforts. Or rewarded him accordingly.
No. They just cut his funding and sent him out to hunt down escaped cockroaches. Out of sight, out of mind. Pussies.
He needed to get D-13 here and bag him fast, before Obsidian got its soft and bloated hands around his masterpiece’s throat and squeezed all the life out of it.
His last hope. His greatest achievement. D-13 belonged to him alone.
He placed the box on Mark’s desk. No barriers in here but a few panes of weatherproof glass. Those RFID beacons could just ping and keep on pinging to any satellite in range.
Calling D-13 back home to Daddy.
* * * *
Jordan Holt frowned at the video feed that showed Braxton pawing through a box of electronic equipment. “Dad, what are you trying to accomplish with this? I don’t get it,” he said. “Why bother using micro-drones to monitor him? He’s no longer a player. Come on.”
“I have excellent reasons for everything I do.”
“Really? We need to keep an eye on that?” Jordan gestured at the screen.
Holt peered at the shifting image as the hovering micro-drone adjusted its vantage point. It had maneuvered through the front door behind Braxton a couple of hours ago, when Braxton returned from a pointless trek out in the snow.
Braxton was limping across the room now. A gruesome, shambling horror.
The other drones still buzzed ineffectually outside the big house. Holt regretted not having dispatched them sooner. Clearly, Braxton needed watching.
It had been a mistake to dismiss him as he had, but it was only human, to turn away from … well, that. The man’s unsightly illness was painful to witness. Braxton’s outcome was the worst nightmare of those who had chosen to get modified. It didn’t always work out. Braxton was a walking cautionary tale.
No one wanted to think about his fate.
“Since I have to explain, you should be aware that I get auto-alerts when any of our agents order a Class Y pharmaceutical.” Holt was annoyed that he had to spell it out. With all his cognitive enhancements, Jordan should be quicker on the uptake. “That big an order of Trib-Theta suggests that he’s plotting something.”
Jordan perked up. “Yeah. He recognized our man when he saw the vid-clip. Jumped three feet into the air.”
“I agree,” Holt said. “So? What’s your recommendation?”
“I say we take a deep breath, hold our noses, and bring Braxton in,” Jordan said. “Have him identify the rogue and give us the control codes. Then kill him.”
“Just like that,” Holt said.
“Well, yeah!” Jordan sounded defensive. “Diminishing returns, right? What’s the point of letting him live?”
“Listen to me,” Holt began. “Self-interest is the most powerful force on earth. Keep that in mind if you want to lead and succeed. You look at Braxton and see a horror show, close to dead, useless in every way. I look, and I see a man who has nothing left to lose. And absolutely everything to gain.”
“Why? What does he gain out of identifying the—”
“If the mystery man is from one of Braxton’s groups, and he’s still healthy, that means he’s been modified with the most extreme gene cocktail Obsidian ever attempted, but he’s immune to Braxton’s rot. That so-called gene cocktail of Braxton’s, revised and improved … it’s potentially worth billions.”
Jordan’s mouth fell open, which made him look annoyingly stupid. “So, ah, then he’ll want to study this man and duplicate the—”
“Yes, exactly. At last, you arrive. Better late than never, I guess.”
“But you didn’t need to set Braxton on those two.” Jordan sounded peevish. “It’s overkill. I’ll be looking for them myself with top-level operatives. Do you really think that mind-fucked zombie nightmare is going to zero in on them faster than I will? He’s too sick to even move fast!”
“That doesn’t matter. He has one last chance before he dies in agony to show the world who came so close to ruling it.”
“Braxton did that?”
“Some think so. He sure as hell does. And I want you to watch and learn. What Braxton does now will show you what true motivation looks like. Remember. The strongest force in the world? What is it again, son?”
“Self-interest. I know, I know. You think I’m not self-interested?” Jordan looked faintly hurt.
Holt rolled his eyes. He walked out, and let the door snap shut without waiting for a reply.
Chapter 23
The sky was shifting from utter black to deep charcoal gray. Zade appeared to be asleep, but she still felt his mind humming furiously.
She couldn’t sleep at all after the night’s incredible pleasures. Her body felt soft, floating. She curled around his big body, stroking his muscular back softly as she stared out the huge windows across the cabin, watching dawn break. The scrapes and bruises he’d gotten from yesterday’s combat were fading swiftly, but they were still visible. She pressed a careful kiss against a big bruise on his shoulder. Maybe quick healing was part of his modifications.
“How are you feeling?” Zade murmured drowsily, turning onto his back.
So her kiss had wakened him, if he’d ever been asleep. The thick tangle of his dark hair spread over the white pillow, but his dark gaze was anything but sleepy.
The strange, exposed feeling of having her mind read in an instant was disconcerting. “I’m good,” she said. “Why?”
“Just wondering if you had detox aftermath,” he said. “From the stim sickness. Tell me if it gets to you.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m not going to let those fucking bastards win. I actually feel pretty good. All things considered.”
His white teeth flashed. So gorgeous. It derailed her train of thought every damn time.
“That’s what I love to hear,” he told her.
“I’m done being controlled,” she said. “By anyone.”
He was silent for a moment. “You think I was too controlling last night?”
She shrugged. “It was intense.”
“I was just hunting down orgasms for you.”
“Like a panther hunts a deer.”
“Maybe. When you come like that, I just can’t stop myself. And you’re a fine one to talk, with your divine dominatrix routine.”
She stretched with a luxurious sigh. “But you liked that.”
Zade slid an arm over her belly. “Fuck yeah. You were so into it.”
She patted his thickly muscled chest. “So? What’s next, then?”
He wound his leg through hers and dragged her closer. “Anything you want to do is fine with me.”
“You choose,” Simone said. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
Zade gazed at her for a long moment. “You’ll have to trust me.”
A chilly silence fell over them.
She looked away first. “When you have to say it, it’s like a warning to do the opposite. You don’t just decide to trust someone, Zade. Out of nowhere.”
His big body went tense. “After everything th
at happened yesterday? You call that nowhere?”
She thought about it and shook her head. “I’m not saying that.”
“Just forgive me,” he said. “I did bad stuff to you. I’m sorry. I’m doing every fucking thing I can think of to fix it. Let’s put it behind us. You might as well. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
She dug her fingers into the solid muscles of his upper arms. The longing in his eyes hurt her heart. She wanted to give him everything—but something in her stayed clenched up. Locked tight.
“I don’t know how,” she admitted. “Trust isn’t a thing you can just consciously decide, and ta-da, it’s done.”
He hugged her closer. She inhaled his hot musk scent and noticed the disc of brushed metal that hung around his neck. White gold or platinum. It had a luminous glow.
She didn’t usually like jewelry on men, but it looked damn good on him. Then again, what wouldn’t look good with all that cut muscle as a backdrop?
She fingered it, noticing the near-invisible seam and tiny hinges. A locket of some kind. She was about to ask him what was inside when he gently disengaged her fingers, pulling the pendant away from her.
She was taken aback. “What’s that about?”
He shrugged.
“Something private?”
“You could say that,” he replied.
She pulled away from him and sat up, looking out the window again. The mountaintops were now clearly visible, outlined with a stripe of paler sky.
“Let me guess,” she said. “It’s a gift from another woman. One you still have feelings for, since you can’t bear for me to touch it.”
He jerked up onto his elbow. “That’s way off the mark.”
“Then what?” She turned to look at him.
His gaze shifted away. “Just don’t worry about it, okay?”
“If it’s not another woman, then why can’t you tell me?”
He flopped heavily onto his back with a sharp sigh. “It’s a thing I have with my brother,” he admitted. “A sort of secret pact. Between me and Luke.”
The silence extended. He was leaving it at that.
No fucking way. He wasn’t getting away with not explaining after all they’d been through together.
“A secret pact,” she said, her voice steely. “Fascinating. Tell me more.”
His brows knitted. “Look. Not even the other Midlanders know about it.”
“But you don’t get naked with them, Zade. Just me. You could have taken it off if you didn’t want me to ask about it. Tell me why you won’t let me touch it. That is, if you want me to stay.”
He remained stubbornly silent.
Simone slid her legs out from under the comforter and sat back up. “Trust me, he says,” she murmured. “Let it all go. Forgive me. Forget all the lies and traps, because I’ll do anything to make this work. That’s what you told me.”
“Yeah.” His voice was defensive. “That about covers it.”
“No, it doesn’t. I’m the one who has to do all the trusting. Because you don’t trust me back.”
“You’re wrong. I do. Thing is, you’ll be freaked out by it. I know you won’t approve, so I just don’t want to go into it. It’s nobody’s damn business but mine and Luke’s anyway. And please don’t take that wrong.”
“With a lead-in like that, you absolutely have to tell me now.”
She waited once again. The seconds ticked by. Still, he was silent.
She started to slide off the bed, but Zade suddenly hooked his arm around her before she could stand and dragged her back against him. “Wait,” he muttered.
When she twisted around to look, he was unclasping the pendant.
He fiddled with something on the side of it, then snapped it open, revealing an orange capsule behind a plastic film. A pill of some kind. He held it up for her to see and then snapped it shut again.
“What’s that?” she asked.
He hesitated for a long moment. “A lethal dose of fast acting poison,” he said.
She just stared at him, blank. “What?”
“It’s so we can escape our control codes. If you really have to know.”
“What the hell are control codes?” Panic tightened in her chest.
“The codes were Braxton’s idea,” Zade said. “The Ratcatcher, remember? They’re a security measure, to keep us in line. You know how that weird ringtone Rand used worked on you? How that aversion trigger caused your stim sickness last night? Luke and I have an extreme version of something like that imbedded in our ASP. Back then, they were just word sequences. I think they’re more sophisticated now.”
She braced herself. “Go on.”
“We each have three individual control codes,” he said. “Each code is a three-word sequence. Unrelated nouns, randomly generated. The stun code locks our muscles. That’s how Mark took Luke. With a stun code. Luke was helpless.”
“I see,” she said. “And the second code?”
“The second is the release code. Which means exactly that. It just undoes the effects of the stun code.”
He stopped speaking. The silence got heavier, but he wouldn’t finish his explanation.
“You said there were three,” she said. “What’s the third?”
“The third is the kill code,” he said. “If I hear it, my heart stops beating.”
He was still half-reclining, the pendant swinging from his hand. She followed its swaying path with her eyes, fighting a lurch of sickening nausea. It was a minute before she could speak.
“That’s awful,” she said.
“Yeah. We needed a way out.” He fingered the pendant. “We cooked the chemicals ourselves. Calibrated it to our Braxton genetic peculiarities. Death in just a few seconds. The dose in that capsule would kill fifteen unmods. At least.”
“But … why?”
He shrugged. “For a sense of control. Probably false, since there’s no guarantee we’d get to use it before someone codes us, but who knows.”
Simone said nothing.
He studied her face. “Aw, fuck. Sorry if I scared you.”
“I’m scared for you,” she said. “Not myself.”
He shook his head slowly. “You don’t know them like we do.”
“Maybe not,” she said. “What about Luke? Did he—”
“Yes, he has a pill just like this one.” Zade’s face darkened. “Didn’t help him, though. Mark had his stun code. Maybe he got a chance to use it later on.”
She was startled. “You’re hoping that Luke poisoned himself?”
“No,” he said wearily. “I’m hoping that he isn’t suffering the torments of hell.”
She slid out of bed and walked blindly through the room toward the picture window. She looked out without seeing the view.
Zade came up behind her, very silently. “Why are you so upset?”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch. “I just am.”
He let his hand drop. “It’s choice, Simone. Freedom. Don’t you see it?”
“So that’s your revenge on Obsidian? You swallow poison and flip them off while you choke to death?”
There was a charged silence while he thought about it. “No. Just a way out.”
“With no way back,” she said.
“That’s right.”
She gazed at him, mutely. Emotion gripped her throat.
“Simone?” His voice was wary. “Talk to me. What are you thinking?”
“I hate that necklace,” she blurted. “I understand why you wear it, and I’m not saying you’re wrong. But I don’t … I just don’t want to lose you, Zade.”
He looked startled and bemused. He gazed first at her, and then at the pendant in the palm of his hand, coiled on its chain.
His fingers closed over it, squeezed and released. “Okay,” he said.
“What?”
“I’ll take it off. If it bothers you that much.” He fished his wallet out of the leather coat flung over the back of the couch and slip
ped the pendant into one of its empty folds. “There. Done.”
She blinked a rush of moisture out of her eyes. “Just like that?”
“Sure.” His dimples flashed, deep and gorgeous. “Let’s get this straight, though. This is the first time I’ve ever had a conversation like this with a woman, so you need to spell it all out for me. Are you my girlfriend now?”
“Yes. I-I am.”
“Good.” His eyes lit up with a hot, excited glow. He took a step toward her. “How about a kiss to make it official?”
Her face was getting hot. “You’ve been kissing me all night long.”
“But this will be The Kiss. Totally different thing,” he told her. “You weren’t my girlfriend then. You were a goddess from another realm.”
She grabbed him and instantly forgot what they were talking about.
* * * *
Simone’s tender, silken kiss overwhelmed him. His arms encircled her, his body instantly aroused, his heart beating wildly. Mine. Mine. Mine.
Simone was a huge risk. Not so much out of his league as out of his fucking universe. But that mine-mine-mine refrain kept stubbornly on. He didn’t know if he was terrified or mind-blown happy, but he was too busy kissing her to figure it out. Her mouth was so hot and soft and sweet.
“Hey!” She glanced down, smiling as his newly refreshed boner prodded her belly.
“You’re very inspiring,” he said, by way of explanation. “But I can wait. Let’s grab a shower. Make some food.”
They had to slosh their way through the water that swamped the bathroom floor. It was a big shower, but he still crowded her with his oversized bulk. He shifted around to give her the best spot, right under the jets of hot water.
“Sorry I flooded the bathroom,” he said. “I was worried about you.”
Her laughter gave him a zing of euphoria. “You don’t do things halfway.”
“Hey, us Midlanders are wired to go into full-on battle frenzy under extreme stress,” he explained as he soaped up her back. “Combat brain stim.”
“Oh?” She arched and stretched under the soap-slicked caress of his hands.
My Next Breath Page 21
