Authors: Lisa Renee Jones
With a deep breath that did nothing to calm the racing of her heart, Cassandra pushed off her chair, her floor-length, white chiffon dress clinging to her petite frame as she began weaving her way through the crowd, past elaborate floral arrangements, and a dance floor filled with perfectly learned ballroom dancing.
Her mind was already far from the purpose of the night’s festivities, but she was forced to stop and shake hands with the daughter of the visiting Mexican dignitary they were honoring tonight. Cassandra’s father, now a White House security advisor, wanted to nurture the relationship, considering Mexico’s close proximity to Zodius activity. He’d managed an alliance—albeit an uneasy one—with Caleb’s Renegades, and he was close to unveiling some cutting-edge technology, which would even the odds against Adam’s Zodius soldiers. These were good things. Things that made her not regret her decision to return to the States.
Finally, Cassandra managed to break away from the crowd and paused as she reached the double-glass doors, pressing her palm to her fluttering stomach. Born of nerves, not fear. In fact, as more of that fanciful laughter bubbled up behind her, Cassandra was struck by the irony of the blissful party when a silent war against humanity was well under way. Michael was a part of that war, she reminded herself.
Angry now, Cassandra yanked open the door and stepped onto the patio, the hot night suffocating her with eerie stillness. Her nerve endings prickled, bristled, screamed with awareness an instant before the wind gently lifted, blowing wisps of her long blonde hair worn straight and to her shoulders, around her face.
A musical sound shimmered in the air, drawing her attention to a wind chime hanging at the edge of a walkway. Michael wanted her to follow that path. And much to Cassandra’s dismay, Michael’s way of using the wind to communicate warmed her limbs, wickedly declaring she still wanted him. And that uncontrollable want, which bordered on need, delivered a dose of the fear she’d thought she’d left behind. In fact, it downright terrified her. But she was out here now, and she was quite certain that he wasn’t going away until she went to him.
Shaking inside, Cassandra inhaled another breath and started forward, following the lighted walkway that twisted and curved and ended at a dimly lit gazebo. In the same instant she stepped inside the structure, he emerged from the shadows, potently male, a presence that expanded, consumed her, downright stole her breath. A presence more powerful than she even remembered. The scent of him—male, musky, uniquely Michael—flared in her nostrils and rippled a path along her nerve endings.
His long, black hair touched broad shoulders and framed that powerful square jaw she’d touched and kissed so often. He towered over her, reminding her of a sleek, muscled panther, hungry and ready to feast. On her. And Lord help her, as she stared into those intelligent, unnaturally black eyes that seemed to see straight to her soul, a part of her that she had no control over wanted him to.
“You look more beautiful than ever, Cassandra.”
His voice swept along her nerve endings with a velvety smooth slide, licking at her limbs with fire. She hugged herself against the sudden heaviness in her breasts, the ache of her nipples—against the wanton reaction that had to be about the mark on her neck. This man had tried to kill her father. He was trying to destroy humanity. He was the enemy, and she was here for answers. And for anything they could use to defeat Zodius.
She drew her spine stiff. “Why are you here, Michael?”
“You’re in danger,” he said softly.
“If I’m in danger, it’s from you,” she bit out through her teeth.
“And yet here you stand,” he pointed out, challenge etching his chiseled features.
“To protect everyone else in that building,” she quickly countered.
He arched a disbelieving brow. “So you bravely put yourself in harm’s way.” One corner of his far-too-inviting mouth lifted. “Or maybe you simply remember I’m the kind of ‘dangerous’ you enjoy.”
It was a familiar sensual taunt he’d used in the past, and unbidden, the words drew an image of Michael’s hard body pressed tightly against hers, of his hand sliding up her dress. Cassandra squeezed her eyes shut and silently cursed. Her lashes lifted, and she cast him an accusing glare. How powerful had Michael become? Could he place such a thought in her mind?
He laughed and held up his hands. “Don’t look at me like that, Cassandra. Whatever thoughts that wickedly lovely mind of yours conjured up were all your own. And don’t tell me they weren’t wicked. We both know you have a way with creative imagery.” His hands slowly lowered, those sensual lips lifting at the corners ever-so-slightly. “I do believe I’d like to hear what you were thinking now.”
“Oh, they were wicked thoughts all right,” she said. “And they were, indeed, full of creative imagery. I’ve had two years to contemplate all kinds of interesting ways to kill a GTECH as powerful as you.”
“And I’ve had two years to dream of touching you again.” He inhaled. “You still want me. I can smell your arousal.”
“This is insane,” she said. “I shouldn’t have come out here.” She turned, started to walk away, but quickly regretted the action. Damn him. Damn him! She would not retreat. She’d waited too long for this confrontation.
Cassandra whirled around to face him and sucked in a breath as she found him in close pursuit; she barely kept her hands from settling on his chest as she steadied herself. They were toe-to-toe now, so close her body ached, so close she could lean forward and touch him. She hated herself for wanting to.
“What makes you think you have the right to say such things to me?” she demanded, frustrated that her voice trembled. “You followed Adam and his Zodius movement. You tried to kill my father.” Her words rasped deeper, her fingers curling in her palms.
“If I had wanted your father dead, he’d be dead.”
Cassandra swallowed hard at the lethal quality in his voice, ground her teeth at the memory of Michael holding a blade to her father’s neck. “I was there. I saw the blade at his throat. I saw the blood.” The memory shook her, and she stepped backwards, a mistake when she was so close to the edge of the stairs. She stumbled, losing her balance and almost taking a tumble. Michael reached for her, steadying her, as if he were her protector. Thighs pressed to thighs. Hips pressed to hips. The world disappeared. The man and everything he’d meant to her reappeared. In those few seconds, she both reveled in the feel of him close to her again and silently cried at the loss.
“Let go,” she whispered. He narrowed his gaze, defiance settling there. “Let go, Michael!”
Instead, he kissed her, one hand threading through her hair, the other molding her hips to his. His tongue possessively pressing past her lips, coaxing a response. Cassandra tried to resist, her hands pressing against him, her intention to push him away. Instead, heat seared her palms and spread warmth up her arms. And the taste of him, wildly Michael, rushed through her like a gust of hot, sensual wind. Consuming her. Melting her. Oh God, melting her resistance.
And just when she knew she was lost, when she could hold back no more, he released her, stepping away. Giving her space that she both wanted and hated all in the same instant. She hugged herself against the ache in her body and the heat of his stare.
“My response means nothing. It’s the mark.”
“You kissed me like that before that mark ever existed,” he reminded her. “And we both know it.” His voice softened. His eyes too. “I didn’t betray you, Cassandra. When it was clear that the Renegades could not defeat Adam, we needed someone on the inside of Adam’s operation. I was X2 positive. Adam believed I had reason to follow him.”
She could barely breathe, barely think. “But you didn’t tell me?” Emotions collided inside her, a desperate part of her wanting to believe his words. Another part reminding herself not to be naive, not to let down her guard. “What do you want from me, Michael?”
“I want
you
, Cassandra. Make no mistake about that.” His words were firm, powerful. Possessive. “But if Adam had known you wore my mark, he would have demanded you be hunted down and brought to Zodius City. And there was no way in hell I was allowing you anywhere near Zodius City. You couldn’t know the truth, Cassandra. It was too dangerous.”
Her heart thundered in her chest. “Then why are you telling me now?”
“Project Red Dart,” he said, dropping the term as if he were testing her knowledge.
Her chest tightened at his mention of the top-secret program. Oh God, he was trying to use her. This was all one big trick. “Red Dart?” she asked, feigning ignorance.
“Adam knows about it, Cassandra.”
That was impossible. There were only a handful of people who knew about Red Dart for fear of leaks to Adam. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Red Dart is a laser beam created by a crystal that shoots a chemical into the bloodstream of the target. The target is then tracked,” he paused, “and tortured, sometimes to the point of death.”
Her mouth dropped open in a near gasp that she struggled to contain. He was wrong, but telling him so meant admitting she knew about Red Dart.
“You didn’t know about the torture part, did you?” he asked, then softly added, “I knew you would never support such a thing.”
He was serious. He really thought Red Dart was a torture device. “Of course, I wouldn’t,” she agreed. “You have no idea what you are talking about.” There wasn’t any torture involved with Red Dart.
Oh God.
Please let there not be any torture involved with Red Dart. The idea that a GTECH could be ordered to do anything—no matter how unethical or wrong—or risk torture, was not a possibility she wanted to consider. Please let her father really be making things right as he’d promised.
“Did you know he’s promised the secretary of state that all GTECHs, Renegade and Zodius alike, will be under his complete control within sixty days?”
“Oh no,” she said, shaking her head in instant rejection. “He would never act against the Renegades. And damn it, Michael, there is no torture involved with Red Dart. We don’t even water board our enemies. We sure as heck aren’t going to insert some sort of torture mechanism that would do Lord-only-knows what to them.”
“Yet that is exactly what your father intends. Just like at Groom Lake, he is driven by a personal agenda that endangers innocent lives. There were two men on the military tribunal for your father, both ready to put him away for life. Both died of brain aneurysms. A very unlikely coincidence.”
“What does that have to do with any of this?”
“There’s a drug called ‘Stardust’ that was developed at Groom Lake. It causes brain aneurysms,” he said. “It’s an alien substance that won’t show up in blood testing. I know this because Adam confiscated a supply when he took over your father’s operation.”
She gripped the railing. “I know all too well what my father did in the past.” Her father was here, trying to fix the mistakes he’d made at Groom Lake. Michael had been gone two years. Michael had been with Adam. “He’s trying to defend us against a Zodius takeover. He needs the Renegades to defeat Adam, and he knows that.”
“Why then, has he told Caleb nothing about Red Dart?” he asked dryly.
“It’s classified.”
“Right. Classified. Well here’s something else ‘classified.’ Both Adam and your father want to use Red Dart to control all the GTECHs. As for Adam, once the GTECHs are under his control, he plans to take it even a step further. He plans to use it on humans. On every government and financial powerhouse in the world. I need your help, Cassandra. We have to destroy that crystal so that no one can abuse it—not Adam, not your father. Because it can destroy the world.”
She didn’t know where Red Dart was even if she wanted to destroy it. But that wasn’t the only problem… there was also that thing called trust. “How do you know any of this?”
“Like your father,” he said, “we have friends in the White House.”
He had a fast answer for everything. “You said my connection to you puts me in danger,” she said. “So why are you here, and not Caleb?”
“That danger I spoke of,” he said. “It
is
me, Cassandra. Adam sent me here to seduce you into helping him. And if I don’t convince him I’ve done my job, he’ll send someone else for you. And their method of persuasion will not be seduction.”
Cassandra gasped at the same moment that her father’s voice filled the air. “Cassandra!”
Michael reached for her, pulling her tight against his body, one powerful arm anchoring their hips together and rendering her immobile. “There will be a package at your hotel desk tonight,” he said. “A phone you can use to contact Caleb without being traced. He’ll confirm I’m telling the truth.”
“Cassandra!”
Her heart kicked into double-time as her father’s voice grew closer. “If my father finds you, he’ll order the guards to kill you.”
“We both know they would not succeed.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and then lifted, sensual hunger charging the air as if he were more concerned with kissing her than he was with his own life.
“You might be willing to take a chance with the guards, but I’m not.” She shoved at his arm. “Go now, Michael.”
A hint of satisfaction flared in his dark eyes, as if she had said she cared about him when she had not. He ran his hand roughly through her hair, his lips inches from hers. His breath, warm and tempting. He was sin and satisfaction, and damn him, she wasn’t sure she could ever escape him.