trackable.”
“I don’t believe it’s a device we can remove,” she said, her eyebrows puckered in thought.
There was more, something she wasn’t saying and his mind refused to examine. Fear reared up, clogging his throat. Fear for her. Fear for his life had stopped being an issue long ago. A man had to care about his life to fear for it.
“What did I do?” His mind wasn’t giving him the whole story. “Tell me,” he rasped. “I hurt you didn’t I?”
“No. We were ambushed by Messenger and his new cleaner.”
He pushed himself out of bed and walked on shaky legs to the narrow window. Moving the curtain, he confirmed they’d returned to the minimal protection of the airport. Why weren’t they tucked into Bulletproof’s safe house? Only one reason: they didn’t trust him anymore. “Messenger told me to finish you.” He was a threat to both sides, with no home, no hope.
“I assume so. You’ll notice that you didn’t.”
He dropped the curtain on the twilight outside. Messenger had a hold over him. Some power he’d either ignored or been oblivious to. He couldn’t take the chance that he’d complete his assignment. “You need to get far away from me.” He gave her his back. She needed to leave but he didn’t have to watch her go.
“It wasn’t mind control, Noah. Not a genetic adjustment,” she added.
That was no comfort. “Great,” he muttered. “I’m naturally weak. Easily influenced.” He supposed at this point it hardly mattered. His mistakes would get her killed eventually.
Her spurt of laughter grated like sandpaper against his skin. “At best it’s hypnosis theory. You resisted the order.” He heard her moving closer to him. “You’re the strongest man I know, mentally and physically.”
The words burned when her breath brushed his bare shoulder. “Not anymore.” He felt helpless as a kitten around her and no match for Messenger’s new pet.
“How did you get me out of there?”
“There were friends standing by.”
“Chameleon.”
“His name is Ben, he was invaluable. And John sent us someone I’d never met. They managed to get us out of harm’s way so I could treat your injuries.”
“You have to leave. I’ll turn myself in. It’s what he wants. The others will get you out.”
“Noah.” Her small palms smoothed across his shoulders, soothed all his rough, scorched edges. “I’m not giving you back to him.”
“It’s where I belong.” He resisted the urge to press closer, to shift those small hands to the places he ached for her touch. It would be obnoxious to turn around and strip off her clothes, just for the glorious warmth of skin on skin contact. That kind of move would only prove his selfish nature. He hadn’t been a monk all these years. As Last Strike, he’d hired women purely for the release. Those rare encounters had been functional, not personal. Despite his failings, he wanted a personal connection with Daria. Unfortunately that connection would eventually destroy her. “It’s true,” he grumbled. “I can’t protect you if Messenger can climb into my head any time.”
“Following his orders is conditioning, not genetic manipulation,” she assured him. “You didn’t obey blindly. You defended yourself when you were attacked.”
Of course she would know that wasn’t protocol. “You’re sure?” That didn’t sound right.
“Yes. I watched it happen.”
He remembered drawing blood, reveling in the scent. He knew some things couldn’t be unseen. His thirst for destruction had to offend her. If she’d watched him fight in that violent, ice-cold state, why the hell was she still here?
He fingered the stitches he could reach. “Thank you for caring for me.” He could feel the heat of her body as she leaned into his back. “You can’t stay. I’m too dangerous.” He couldn’t bear if it he had to watch her die - or worse - watch UI torture her if they caught her. When . Capture was inevitable.
She shifted and the
“I don’t believe it’s a device we can remove,” she said, her eyebrows puckered in thought.
There was more, something she wasn’t saying and his mind refused to examine. Fear reared up, clogging his throat. Fear for her. Fear for his life had stopped being an issue long ago. A man had to care about his life to fear for it.
“What did I do?” His mind wasn’t giving him the whole story. “Tell me,” he rasped. “I hurt you didn’t I?”
“No. We were ambushed by Messenger and his new cleaner.”
He pushed himself out of bed and walked on shaky legs to the narrow window. Moving the curtain, he confirmed they’d returned to the minimal protection of the airport. Why weren’t they tucked into Bulletproof’s safe house? Only one reason: they didn’t trust him anymore. “Messenger told me to finish you.” He was a threat to both sides, with no home, no hope.
“I assume so. You’ll notice that you didn’t.”
He dropped the curtain on the twilight outside. Messenger had a hold over him. Some power he’d either ignored or been oblivious to. He couldn’t take the chance that he’d complete his assignment. “You need to get far away from me.” He gave her his back. She needed to leave but he didn’t have to watch her go.
“It wasn’t mind control, Noah. Not a genetic adjustment,” she added.
That was no comfort. “Great,” he muttered. “I’m naturally weak. Easily influenced.” He supposed at this point it hardly mattered. His mistakes would get her killed eventually.
Her spurt of laughter grated like sandpaper against his skin. “At best it’s hypnosis theory. You resisted the order.” He heard her moving closer to him. “You’re the strongest man I know, mentally and physically.”
The words burned when her breath brushed his bare shoulder. “Not anymore.” He felt helpless as a kitten around her and no match for Messenger’s new pet.
“How did you get me out of there?”
“There were friends standing by.”
“Chameleon.”
“His name is Ben, he was invaluable. And John sent us someone I’d never met. They managed to get us out of harm’s way so I could treat your injuries.”
“You have to leave. I’ll turn myself in. It’s what he wants. The others will get you out.”
“Noah.” Her small palms smoothed across his shoulders, soothed all his rough, scorched edges. “I’m not giving you back to him.”
“It’s where I belong.” He resisted the urge to press closer, to shift those small hands to the places he ached for her touch. It would be obnoxious to turn around and strip off her clothes, just for the glorious warmth of skin on skin contact. That kind of move would only prove his selfish nature. He hadn’t been a monk all these years. As Last Strike, he’d hired women purely for the release. Those rare encounters had been functional, not personal. Despite his failings, he wanted a personal connection with Daria. Unfortunately that connection would eventually destroy her. “It’s true,” he grumbled. “I can’t protect you if Messenger can climb into my head any time.”
“Following his orders is conditioning, not genetic manipulation,” she assured him. “You didn’t obey blindly. You defended yourself when you were attacked.”
Of course she would know that wasn’t protocol. “You’re sure?” That didn’t sound right.
“Yes. I watched it happen.”
He remembered drawing blood, reveling in the scent. He knew some things couldn’t be unseen. His thirst for destruction had to offend her. If she’d watched him fight in that violent, ice-cold state, why the hell was she still here?
He fingered the stitches he could reach. “Thank you for caring for me.” He could feel the heat of her body as she leaned into his back. “You can’t stay. I’m too dangerous.” He couldn’t bear if it he had to watch her die - or worse - watch UI torture her if they caught her. When . Capture was inevitable.
She shifted and the
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