Who was he kidding? He wanted to wake up with her in his arms, with her legs wrapped around his waist, his body grinding hard against hers, his mouth at her breasts and kissing her, hot, long kisses that never ended. It's sex. Straight-up. I get hard just thinking about her. Straight-up sex.
You lying bastard. Jack snorted in derision. You walk away from sex. She isn't just sex to you, bro. She's the fucking Fourth of July and Christmas all wrapped up in one neat package. Kenny's in love.
Keep it up, Jack, I'll tell Briony you stuck a gun to her sister's head.
You wouldn't dare.
Damn it. He refused to love the woman. He just wouldn't do it. He wasn't going to take a chance that he could turn ugly on her. He'd just keep her. Tie her to him. He was very experienced at sex and she wasn't. Keep her hot for him, wanting him. That was the key. Forget love. Jack was full of it. That way was disaster. This way he could keep her forever and never feel so much as a twinge of jealousy. Keep his emotions out of it and be safe.
Ken wiped sweat from his face and began to walk in the narrow corridor of cement, finding his way through the maze with nothing but Mari's touch to guide him to her, because one way or another--he had to reach her.
CHAPTER 15
Mari caught the bars of the window on her door and shook them, her gaze on the two men circling each other.
"We don't need the guns," Sean said.
"No, I can beat you to death with my bare hands," Brett answered.
"Stop," Mari entreated. "Brett, stop."
"Shut up, Mari," Brett slammed a hamlike fist against the door, sending her heart into overdrive. "I'll take care of you later."
The camera in the corner made a slight whirring noise as it changed angles to better capture the fight between the two men. Mari's breath stilled in her lungs.
In that moment she suddenly understood what was happening. The entire compound was a laboratory experiment, and everyone in it was a participant. Whitney wanted emotions running out of control. He wanted to see if he could manipulate men into a killing frenzy. He wanted to see if he could indoctrinate them to murder their own children if the child didn't meet the stringent standards for supersoldiers. And he wanted to see if the mothers could have a strong enough hold on the men to keep them from doing so. He was testing human nature. Maybe whoever was funding him didn't know the extremes he was going to, but he'd already killed one of the seven women he'd begun training, and if Whitney had his way, the others could just as easily die.
Mari and her sisters were not soldiers. This had never been their home. They were lab experiments, nothing more, and if they wanted to survive with body and soul intact, they had to escape. They had to quit talking about it and make it happen--and soon. Immediately.
"Sean, don't do this. It's what they want--what he wants." She felt the need to save him, a fellow soldier, a man sworn to do his duty and carry out orders. She'd always respected him as a soldier, respected his abilities even when it had become clear he no longer considered her and the other women part of the unit. Whitney had done something terrible to him to change his personality, to turn him into another Brett, brutal and without the ability to decipher right from wrong.
"Back off, Mari," Sean hissed, eyes on his enemy.
"If you do this, there's no going back. He'll have you for murder. Don't you see, you'll be as much a prisoner here as I am." It was already too late for him; she had known it almost the moment he'd come for her and he'd acted so out of character. The man with a ready laugh was gone, and a stranger had taken his place.
He had made a choice; even after seeing what Whitney's experiments did to the men, Sean had still made the choice to participate.
"I already am," Sean said, clenching his teeth. "He isn't going to torture you anymore."
Mari felt tears burning behind her eyes. Knives had replaced guns and there was no way to stop what was going to happen. Somewhere, this was all being recorded as if it were a video game instead of real life. A man with dead eyes watched them all with no more compassion than he would have for insects. He played with their lives and recorded everything diligently, all in the name of science and patriotism. Sean was so wrong. Whitney was still torturing her. He'd taken another person she cared about away from her.
She knew no other life and neither did the other women. They had talked of escaping, had planned for months, but until now they'd always found a reason to wait, to hold on one more day. In spite of their training and their enhanced physical and psychic abilities, the simple truth was they were all afraid of what they would find outside the compound.
In all her life she'd never once talked to anyone not associated with the compound. The guards and fences weren't the only things keeping them prisoners. Fear held them just as efficiently as the guards. Fear for what Whitney would do to Briony. Fear for the other women. Fear of not being a good enough soldier. Fear of the outside world.
She didn't honestly know if she could survive away from this place. The brutal years of training, of discipline, weapons, and control, had been her way of life as long as she could remember. Every moment of education she'd ever received had been designed to make her a better soldier--a better weapon. It was the same for the other women. They had no family, no friends, and no one to advocate for them.
An alarm went off, shrieking insanely, and her heart nearly stopped. What if Ken had been spotted? She gripped the bars, her legs turning to rubber she was so scared. They would kill him. Ken. She reached out to him, careful to keep the energy low, as if she were talking to the other women as they often did in the evening. I need to know you're alive.
I'm here, baby, on my way to you.
I hear the sirens. I touched all the girls and they're all in their rooms safe.
That little sick pervert of a doctor's house blew up. It's a real tragedy.
She forced air through her lungs. You didn't take any chances, did you? I can handle Prauder. It's all part of the job.
That's bullshit. Ken's chest went tight. He didn't want her anywhere near Prauder, Whitney, Sean, or bully Brett. Tell me what's wrong. And don't say nothing. I can feel it.
She hesitated.
Damn it, Mari. I'm losing my mind here. I can imagine all sorts of really unpleasant things, so just give it to me straight.
I'm safe. Locked up. Sean and Brett are trying to kill each other outside my door.
She took a deep breath and let it out, focusing on the camera in the hallway. Brett was a brute of a man who enjoyed hurting others. He had tried to break her, to the point of pushing the limit of the restraints Whitney put on him, but he hadn't succeeded. Brett had been trained well and was physically enhanced so his strength was phenomenal. She ought to know; he'd used it on her repeatedly. Sean was the ultimate soldier, fast and hard and experienced in battle, able to separate emotion and slip into the fighting zone--and he was deadly with a knife. He would kill Brett. He intended to kill Brett, and he would do it on camera just like Whitney wanted, and there would be no out for him ever again. Whitney would own him body and soul.
Mari tried again. "Sean, stop!"
He didn't so much as glance at her, not flinching as Brett feigned an attack. He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, eyes on his target. She turned her attention again to the camera. She had several psychic gifts, but destroying the inner workings of a machine wasn't one of her greatest strengths.
Ken could taste fear in his mouth. Because whoever didn't die was going to be visiting her, and Ken knew he'd better get there first. Baby. His voice was soft, soothing; he needed to be calm for both of them when he was really afraid for her. Are you gathering energy to protect yourself? He could feel the buildup in her mind as she pulled in psychic energy from around her.
Was she coiling, readying for an attack? If he found Sean or Brett touching her, he'd never be able to control himself. Every muscle, every cell in his body, tensed and tightened, waiting for an answer.
I'm trying to melt the stupid camera. I c
an't stay focused.
There was the smallest of sobs in her mind, hastily covered, but he heard--and felt--that gut-wrenching sound, and his entire body reacted.
Open your mind to mine.
Most psychics developed natural shields, not wanting anyone running around in their heads. Ken was used to sharing his thoughts with Jack, as well as sending and receiving energy. They had experimented often and practiced for years to perfect their communication skills.
It took Mari a moment or two to overcome her natural reticence and let her barriers all the way down. He poured not only energy, but directions into her mind so that she knew exactly where to focus the surge of power to the camera and send the interruption back through the lines, blowing other cameras out as well. For good measure he included all auditory equipment too. Ken was shocked that she trusted him enough to let him inside her that far. Just as she'd given him her body, she gave him her mind. The feel was far more intimate than he had ever imagined it could be, as if his soul had rubbed up against hers.
Sean is killing Brett, Ken. Right here in front of me. Whitney's done something to him and he's crazy, just like Brett was.
Are you safe? He had found the route to the second level and was making his way down, but the crawl space in the cement walls was a maze. Rebar stuck up in spots like deadly stakes. There were dead ends and places where he had to push through a thin plug of cement. That took precious time--time he feared he might not have.
She didn't answer him right away, and for a moment he thought he might lose his mind. Damn it, Mari, tell me the truth. Are you safe?
I don't know.
She was worried and that added to his alarm. He took a deep breath and let it out, seeking to find a way to be detached. He had to quit acting like an idiot and think with his brain. I'm on my way to you, Mari. Whatever happens with Sean and Brett, know that I'm coming.
Don't. This place is a fortress.
I'm already inside, sweetheart. I'm a GhostWalker. Don't you know we walk through walls? He tried to tease her, gently, to reassure her that he was all right.
Mari peered through the bars of the window and saw streaks of blood on the opposite wall. Blood splatter went across the guard's station and pooled on the floor. Brett crawled toward her door, his shirt bright red, several large spots beginning to run together. His teeth were clenched together and he growled; all the while blood trickled from his mouth. Sean followed relentlessly, gripping a bloody knife, his face contorted into that of a stranger.
She backed away from the window, pressing her hand against her trembling lips. She had known Sean would kill Brett, but the vicious look on his face, the utter satisfaction and triumph was more than she could take. There was a feral quality to his snarling expression as he stalked Brett.
The back of her legs hit her cot and she sank down, pushing her way back until she was huddled in the corner against the wall, making herself as small as possible. Her hand slid beneath the cot mattress to hold Ken's necklace for comfort.
Ken felt Mari's sudden rejection, her complete withdrawal as if she couldn't stand his mind touching hers. Violence had always been her life, but not like this, not the cold, cruel, animalistic aggression the two men were displaying. She wanted no part of it. His heart clenched, a strange sensation, gripping him with another fear--this time for what she would think of him. If there was a violent man in the world, one who could detach from all emotion, it was Ken. Worse than that, when he allowed emotion to prevail, he could be as brutally efficient as any wild predator.
Don't push me away. He was pleading inside, but it came out a command, and he felt her wince away from the roughness in his voice. He was blowing it before he even got started. There was a limit to what any one person could take, and Mari was at hers. She needed out of this place. She needed freedom and to be able to make her own choices.
Someone is coming. Mari held her breath, hearing footsteps outside her door. Hastily she checked to make certain the chain and cross were well hidden. There was the murmur of voices. Sean wasn't alone. She wanted to remain huddled against the wall, but she couldn't let them see her feeling so fragile. Lifting her chin, she stood up and faced the door. Her heart was pounding.
I'm with you, sweetheart. I'm making my way through the second level. It's tough going, with a few roadblocks in the way, but no matter what, I'll get to you.
The entire compound has security cameras everywhere as well as motion and infrared triggers.
Thanks for the warning. And, Mari? Stay open to my mind. I need to know if you're in danger. Not that there was a hell of a lot he could do from where he was. The high cement walls were narrow and the maze seemed endless. He didn't get claustrophobia, which was a good thing, because the longer he was inside the thick walls, the more it felt like the labyrinth was endless.
The door slid open and Sean stood framed in the doorway. There was blood on his hands, a grin on his face. Behind him stood Whitney in his immaculate suit, with his dead eyes and his frightening half smile.
"Sean has elected to be your new partner, Mari," Whitney said. "I'm certain the news pleases you as you always objected to Brett."
She forced her gaze to stay focused on the two men and away from the body slumped on the floor. Her eyes met Whitney's. She remained silent, not giving him the satisfaction of an answer.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about an explosion in Dr. Prauder's house, would you?" There was no inflection in his voice, not even mild interest.
"I didn't hear an explosion." She shrugged. "Down four levels underground we don't often know about what goes on up top until someone tells us."
"Nor would you happen to know anything about a visitor coming, would you?" Whitney persisted.
Her heart jumped and then began to pound in alarm. Had they discovered the Nortons? "I'm afraid I have very few visitors, Dr. Whitney, as you well know. Why do you ask?"
"You left this facility without permission. Why would you join your former team unless you had an agenda? You were either planning to escape, in which case you knew one of your friends was likely to meet her demise, or, more probably, you wished to speak to Senator Freeman."
She kept her face as expressionless as possible. "Why would I want to do that?"
"Based on your past, I would say you were stirring up trouble again. That seems to be your most impressive talent to date." His eyes narrowed and he took a step toward her. "Sean is going to stay with you for a while. Let's hope if Norton didn't get the job done, Sean does, because after this, you aren't going to be very important to me."
Her stomach lurched. "I don't understand."
"Oh, you're a very smart woman, Mari. I'm sure you do understand. Senator Freeman is coming here and wants to talk to all the women, but he mentioned you specifically. Freeman has no authority here."
"I thought Freeman was a friend of yours."
His cold gaze swept over her. When she was a child, that particular look would wither all defiance instantly. Now it left her with sweaty palms and a dry mouth.
"People who ask a lot of questions about things they shouldn't have any knowledge of have a way of disappearing."
She knew he caught the sudden exhale as air left her lungs in a rush of comprehension. "You ordered the hit on Senator Freeman. You wouldn't have allowed our team to protect him if you'd been there to stop us."
"Cooperate this time, Mari, give me what I want. I've grown very tired of your tantrums."
"Why? Why would you do that? He's Violet's husband."
"Violet has forgotten where her first duty lies and so has the senator. We put him in that position, but he's growing more arrogant and ungrateful every day."
"I didn't ask him to come here. I never even got close to him. I was shot."
The dead eyes remained fixed on her face in accusation. "You found a way to get a message to him. Violet would, of course, listen to you and persuade him. She will find I make a far better ally than enemy."
Mari wanted to remain
silent, afraid whatever she said would push Whitney over the edge and get someone hurt, but she couldn't let him leave without trying to save herself. She didn't dare look at Sean. The same brutish grin remained on his face throughout the conversation. She stiffened to attention, becoming the perfect soldier reporting to Whitney.
"I shouldn't have left without permission, but I was going crazy locked up. I thought if I could run a mission or two I'd feel better. You trained us as soldiers. Staying in these tiny cells is making us all crazy. I didn't speak to the senator, and when I was captured, I tried to reach out to my unit. My first priority was to escape, and as soon as the opportunity presented itself, I did so. Sean can verify that."
Whitney studied her face with his dead eyes, giving nothing away of what he was thinking.
"That is correct," Sean said.
Whitney ignored the soldier. "You left without permission."
"Yes, that's true. And I more than paid for my mistake."
"Your point, Mari?" He was suddenly impatient.
She forced her gaze to the floor in a more submissive role. "I'm tired and worn out tonight and would ask that you wait before you send Sean to me. At least wait until we know whether Norton got me pregnant."
"No!" Sean was adamant. "You gave me your word, sir."
Dr. Whitney held up his hand and Sean fell silent. "I certainly increased your chances with all the fertility shots I gave you," Whitney told Mari as he studied her face. "I don't think so. I think you have your own agenda, and as Sean pointed out, I did give him my word."
Mari stayed ramrod straight, keeping her expression blank, but she couldn't control the sudden pounding of her heart. She wanted to crumble and fall into a sobbing heap on the floor. She couldn't go through this again--not with Sean. What had possessed him to allow Whitney to include him in his insane program? They had often discussed how the men turned into brutes after taking Whitney's chemical cocktail.
Dr. Whitney glanced up at the camera. "After you're done here, you'll report to the med labs for a few more tests. I didn't realize your psychic powers had developed enough to damage not just one, but several of the cameras and the auditory equipment."