Chapter Seven
The bastard had been in his head. Again. Flynn had been convinced that he could keep Bryce out of his mind, but he’d been dead wrong.
Now the guy was close, and Flynn wasn’t going to take chances. Sawyer. He sent out the fast, mental call straight to his friend. He and Sawyer could always reach each other, their connection was like a private hot-line. Was the deeper link there because they’d known each other before Lazarus? Flynn didn’t know, he was just grateful for the link that let him communicate with Sawyer, anytime and anywhere. Get your ass to the club called Sin. Bryce is here.
He felt, more than heard, Sawyer’s response, and he even had a fast image of Sawyer rushing toward his motorcycle. Sawyer loved his bikes—the bigger, the better.
Flynn stood in the middle of the dance floor. His hands were at his sides, and he stared straight ahead. His nostrils flared as he pulled in the scents around him. Bryce was such a tricky SOB—
The crowd parted, and Flynn saw Bryce. The guy was standing not fifteen feet away. Standing so close, but Flynn still couldn’t pick up the other man’s scent. A woman stood in front of Bryce. A woman with dark brown hair that fell around her shoulders. A woman wearing a short, black skirt and a soft, green blouse. The woman’s eyes were closed. She’d positioned her body in front of Bryce, and she was dancing slowly, sensually in front of him. Bryce had curled one hand around her waist, and the other hand was around her throat.
Bryce stared at Flynn. Smirked. Then connected psychically with him. One jerk of my hand, and she’s dead right here.
Flynn didn’t move. Someone bumped into him from behind, but he didn’t so much as twitch.
Bryce was backing away with his dance partner, steering her through the crowd and toward the rear of Sin. Let’s take this someplace quiet.
Now Flynn advanced. He stalked forward through that crowd, moving easily. Keeping his gaze on Bryce. The SOB wasn’t getting away.
You want to play hero? Bryce taunted. Let’s see how well that works for you.
The woman’s eyes opened. They were a blue—bright, sky blue. She didn’t fight Bryce in any way. Her body was lax and supple in his grip. The guy was pulling her through the back door of Sin, and she didn’t seem to care.
Flynn sucked in a slow, deep breath, and he followed Bryce into the night.
***
“I need to know what’s happening,” Aaron snapped. “Cecelia, I’m in charge of this investigation. I’m the FBI agent, remember?” His voice rose, but it was still hard to hear him over the pounding music.
She craned her head, trying to locate Flynn. He’d vanished in the pack of people.
“Look, I’ve talked with all the bartenders, and the wait staff gave me jackshit to go on.” He tugged her toward the front door. “If I’m supposed to be protecting you, I can’t do it in this throng. Let’s get out of here.”
“Buy Flynn—”
“Text the guy, shit, it’s easy enough to do.”
It was. And she did feel way too exposed right there. Bodies were crowding in on her, and Benjamin still had his eyes locked on her from the second floor. The creepy quotient was too high.
She and Aaron hurried back outside. They moved away from the long line of would-be party goers who still waited for their chance to enter Sin. Aaron’s car was parked half-way down the block, and their steps thudded over the sidewalk as they hurried toward his vehicle.
They were almost at his vehicle when Aaron suddenly stopped. His body jerked to attention.
“Aaron?”
“Did you hear that?” His head turned, and he glanced toward a dark alley that waited just a few feet away. Not the same alley that she’d been in earlier that day, thank goodness. But one that looked just as uninviting. The way that particular street was designed, thin alleys snaked between the buildings.
“I didn’t hear anything.” Certainly not anything coming from the dark alley.
“It sounded like a woman screaming.” He yanked out his gun. “You must’ve heard her.”
No, she hadn’t.
“Come on!” Aaron yelled. He pulled Cecelia with him. “I know I heard her! She needs help!”
And Cecelia had to run in order to keep up with him.
***
The club’s back door banged shut behind Flynn. Bryce stood near a dumpster, his hand still around the woman’s throat. He had a smile on his face.
Flynn’s temples throbbed as he stared at the bastard. “It’s over.”
But Bryce just smiled. “He’s one of them,” Bryce announced.
Flynn shook his head. “What in the hell are you talking—”
“Flynn Haddox was part of Project Lazarus from the beginning.”
Flynn glared at the jackass. “And, unlike you, I didn’t know what was going to happen to me. I didn’t know—”
“See?” Bryce brought his mouth toward the woman’s left ear. “He admits it. He’s part of the group that hurt you. He changed you, made you into a monster, then he walked away, leaving you behind.”
Flynn’s shocked gaze flew to the woman’s face. She’d gone pale, absolutely white, and a lone tear streaked down her cheek.
“I found you. I saved you.” Bryce smirked at Flynn, but he kept his voice gentle as he talked to the woman. “And you owe me your loyalty.”
Flynn lifted his hands and held them, palms out, toward the woman. “I don’t know what lies he’s told you, but the man behind you is very, very dangerous. You need to move away from him—”
“You have to kill him,” Bryce told the woman. “Because if you don’t, he’ll kill you. And he won’t be alone. I suspect his partner—Sawyer Cage—is already on the way here. They’re coming with one purpose in mind. With only one intent. To kill me…” His fingers were still at her throat. “And to kill you, Willow.”
Flynn shook his head. “The guy is a lying bastard.”
“Attack,” Willow whispered.
Oh, hell. “I don’t know you, lady. You’re not my enemy.” Flynn tried to make his voice soothing. But he wasn’t exactly skilled at soothing.
“Of course, he’s your enemy,” Bryce fired back. “He’s Lazarus. He left you. I’m the one who saved you. Didn’t I get you out of that cell? That hole in the ground? Flynn and Sawyer just left you there to die!”
Was he staring at another Lazarus test subject? Because that sure seemed to be what Bryce was saying. Flynn had never seen the woman in the Arizona facility. But…
He knew there had been others. Other Lazarus test subjects, those who’d been secretly housed in other locations.
He focused on her, and then Flynn sent a message straight at the other woman. Can you hear me? Bryce had a distinct skill for keeping the other Lazarus subjects out of his head—part of the guy’s psychic strength—but maybe she wasn’t like Bryce. Fuck, I hope she’s not. Maybe she was like him and Sawyer, maybe they could all communicate easily with each other. Back when he’d run missions with the other Lazarus test subjects, they’d often used their telepathic communication skills with each other. It was as if their brains had been re-wired, and they could send thoughts back and forth as easily as they spoke.
She gave a quick gasp. “Get out of my head!”
Instead of sending a psychic communication back to him, the woman yanked up her hand. The gun she held gleamed underneath the moonlight.
Bryce just laughed. “Told you, Willow. He’s the enemy. He’ll take over your mind if you let him.”
More tears slid down her cheeks. “Attack,” Willow whispered.
“You don’t want to do this,” Flynn told her grimly.
Bryce backed away as Willow advanced, lifting her gun. “Destroy,” she said.
“This won’t end well for you,” Flynn snarled. “Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s using you! He wants me to fight you!”
“Kill,” Willow said simply. Her finger squeezed the trigger. The bullet came flying at Flynn, but he leapt to the side. He felt the bullet burn over his shoulder. He looked up in time to see Bryce darting into an alley.
“Kill,” Willow said again. “Kill.”
She fired at him once more.
***
“No one is here!” Cecelia exclaimed for the third time. “No one is—”
A gunshot blasted. She whirled at the sound.
“See?” Aaron demanded. “You see what I’m talking about?”
She still didn’t see a woman who needed help, but she’d definitely heard the blast of that bullet, and the sound had come from somewhere close by. Aaron immediately surged toward the sound, rushing toward the darker part of the alley. She scrambled behind him even as she swore she heard the echo of another shot. “Aaron, stop! Wait—”
He’d vanished into the shadows. It was so dark there. The tall building seemed to block out the moonlight, and there were no lights in the alley. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness. She tried to hurry forward, but Cecelia hit something. No, someone. “Aaron?”
“I’ve got you.” Definitely Aaron’s voice.
Relief filled her. She had really terrible night vision.
His hands were on her shoulders. Both of his hands, and that was weird because she knew he’d been holding a gun just a few moments before.
And then his hands moved to her throat…
“Aaron!” She tried to scream his name, but the cry came out as a hushed gasp. His fingers were clamping around her neck, cutting off her air supply, and she couldn’t breathe, much less talk.
“You’re such a little bitch,” he growled as his fingers tightened around her even more. “Did you think I didn’t know you fucked him?”
Her fingernails scratched over his face, aiming for his eyes, but he twisted his head. He jerked her up, holding her with a strength that was scary, and her legs dangled in the air—right before she kicked him as hard as she could in the shin.
He yelled and dropped her. She hit the ground with a rough impact, but she didn’t hesitate. Cecelia twisted her body and jumped to her feet.
“You won’t get away. I’ve been watching you…”
Oh, shit. “Flynn!” She tried to scream for him. With his super hearing, he’d be able to hear her cry, wouldn’t he? “Flynn!” But she wasn’t screaming. She was barely whispering because her throat felt so raw from the attack.
Aaron hit her. He tackled her from behind and she went sprawling, her head nearly slamming into a garbage bin. She was flat down on her stomach, her body pinned by Aaron’s. And he…
He was wrapping something around her throat.
Something soft. Rope.
Rope? No! This couldn’t be happening. Could. Not. Be. She tried to lift her body up, but his knee had shoved into her back, and he held her down. The dirty concrete scraped against the front of her body, and the rope cut into her throat. She couldn’t choke out a breath and the pounding of her heart filled her ears. Her hands flew behind her as she tried to grab him, but Aaron was too far back.
This couldn’t be the end. This couldn’t be the way she went out. She hadn’t survived a kidnapping and a psychopath’s attack when she’d been fifteen—she hadn’t lived through that hell just so that she could die in a dirty alley, at the hands of her former lover. No. No!
Her blood felt like fire in her veins. She couldn’t reach him with her hands so she started scrabbling around beside her body, looking for a weapon, looking for anything that could help her.
But the rope just tightened.
***
She’d hit him. Flynn had tried to dodge the second bullet, but the woman called Willow had adjusted her aim, seeming to take into account his planned movement even before he made it. The second bullet slammed into his shoulder, then burst out. But before she could hit him again, Flynn was on her. He snatched the gun out of her hand.
She attacked, sending the gun flying from his fingers. Willow moved with brutal, silent efficiency. Kicking, punching, and going for every single weak spot that he had. He blocked her blows even as he realized that she had been very well trained.
Lazarus took in former soldiers.
“How do…” He barked the words and hoped he wouldn’t have to kill her. “How do you know your name is really Willow?”
She fumbled. Hesitated. And he went in for the kill. He grabbed her and shoved her back against the side of the club. “Stop! Stop!” he snapped.
She wasn’t stopping.
“I am not your enemy. That bastard who was whispering in your ear? He’s the bad guy, not me. He’s the bad—”
Flynn!
For just an instant, he heard Cecelia. Heard her terror-filled cry so clearly. And he turned away from Willow. Just let her go as he rushed away from her and ran back toward Sin.
“We’re not done!” Willow screamed after him.
He yanked open the back door to the club. He burst inside, his gaze sweeping the place from top to bottom. He was looking for his redhead. He was trying to find the scent of sweet vanilla cream over the booze and the cologne.
Not here.
He rushed for the club’s front door.
A woman’s hand curled around his arm. “You think I won’t kill you, right in front of all these people?” Willow challenged. Her bright eyes were wide and wild.
“Lady, I’m a fucking test subject, too, just like I think you are. And you are trusting the wrong man. Bryce King is a killer.” He jerked free of her hold. “Don’t slow me down again.”
He shoved dancers out of his way as he rushed for the main entrance. Cecelia wasn’t in Sin. She was gone, and he was freaking the hell out.
A couple stopped dancing and the man frowned at him. “Hey, buddy, you bleeding?”
Like he cared about a little blood. He bounded out the front of the club, and the bouncer whirled at his approach. The guy’s eyes doubled. “Uh, man, your shoulder is fucked—”
He grabbed the bouncer and yanked the fellow forward. “The woman I came here with…where the hell is she?”
“Sh-she left with the FBI guy! Went walking that way—”
But Flynn had already dropped him and rushed down the sidewalk because he’d caught Cecelia’s scent. Sweet vanilla.
I’m coming, sweetheart. I’m coming!
***
“Get the fuck away from her!” The masculine voice was distant, booming.
She knew that voice, but because her heartbeat thundered so loudly, Cecelia couldn’t quite place it…
The rope loosened.
She sucked in a deep, desperate breath as tears leaked down her cheeks. She clawed at the rope, yanking it away even as bodies crashed onto the ground just a few inches from her face.
Aaron. He’d been knocked down, and a big, hulking figure was above him. A man who was plowing his hand into Aaron’s face, again and again. She heard the crunch of bones right before Aaron gave a high-pitched cry of pain.
“You bastard! You were attacking her? Her?” Fists flew again, pummeling Aaron. Aaron didn’t fight back. In fact, he barely seemed to move.
“S-stop,” she whispered. Her voice was ragged. So weak. Her whole body shook.
But her rescuer whirled toward her. “Cecelia…” He reached for her, pulling her up and into his arms. Arms that were strong and warm. Familiar.
“B-Ben?”
“Good freaking thing I followed you,” Ben muttered as he lifted her higher against his chest, cradling her in his arms. “So much for the FBI. Don’t worry, I am going to bury that prick. And I mean bury him. No one will ever find his body when I’m done. I’ll make sure he suffers before I give him death. He will bleed and beg, baby, I swear. I—”
They were hit. Hit hard and fast by something she didn’t even see. One moment, Benjamin held her tight. In the next instant, she’d been ripped from his arms. She was on the ground again, and Benjamin had been tossed about ten feet from her. She scrambled around to find him and saw that he was trapped near the dumpster, and that Flynn—Flynn pounded at him.
Benjamin tried to fight back, but he was no match for Flynn. Flynn was too fast. His blows too brutal.
“What did you do?” Flynn shouted. “What did you do to Cecelia?” His hand went for Benjamin’s throat. He lifted Benjamin up, holding him with just one hand.
“No!” Cecelia tried to scream again and couldn’t. “Flynn, no!” She shoved to her feet, terrified he’d snap Benjamin’s neck before she could stop him. One yank of his hand and Benjamin would be gone. “S-saved me!”
Flynn’s head whipped toward her. “What’s wrong with your voice?” He still held Benjamin in the air, with his fingers tight around the other man’s neck. “What happened to your throat?” Then he whipped his head back toward Benjamin. “You damn bastard—”
She grabbed Flynn’s arm, and it was like grabbing steel. “N-not him…”
Benjamin made gurgling sounds.
“S-saved me…”
Flynn shook his head. “When I came into the alley…” He still didn’t let Benjamin go. “You were in his arms. The FBI agent is unconscious, beaten to hell and back.”
Benjamin’s body was twitching in Flynn’s hold.
“Aaron…” God, talking was hard. “Attacked…”
He dropped Benjamin. Flynn grabbed Cecelia and pulled her close against him. “The FBI agent attacked you?”
She nodded. Tears stung her eyes again.
“Baby, baby!” Flynn’s fingers were on her throat, so incredibly careful. She could feel a tremble in his fingertips. Or maybe she was the one trembling.
The whole scene felt like a terrible nightmare. It didn’t make any sense to her at all.
And in the distance, a siren shrieked.
“He’s a dead man,” Flynn promised softly. “I can hear his heart still beating, but I’m telling you right now, he’s dead.”
She turned her head, staring down at Aaron. He looked like a heavy shadow slumped in the garbage of the alley.
His attack had come out of nowhere.
“What in the hell is happening?”
Flynn didn’t jerk in surprise at the rough question, but Cecelia did. She peered around Flynn and found Sawyer stalking toward her.
“Who the…hell…is he?” Benjamin demanded. His voice was weak, but still about one hundred times better than hers.
“Friend,” she managed.
“Cecelia?” Sawyer bounded toward her. “What in the hell happened to your neck?”
“Ah, yeah.” Benjamin rubbed his own neck. “That would be courtesy of the unconscious asshole.” And he kicked Aaron. “I came into the alley, found him pinning her down. He had a rope around her neck.” His words were coming out rapid-fire. An old habit of his. When he was mad, he spat out words so fast. “Cecelia was barely moving. He’d almost killed her!”
Flynn growled. It was such a rough, primitive sound that the hair on her arms stood up.
“He used this.” Benjamin bent and picked up the rope. “You all come into my club, looking for some killer who gets off choking his victims. Didn’t realize the killer was with you all along.”
The siren was louder. Screaming in the night.
“I need to move him,” Benjamin said. “Dump his body.” He spoke so casually, as if he’d just said he had to take out the garbage. “Cops are heading this way, probably because of those gunshots I heard a bit ago, but I can’t risk them finding the FBI agent. He’ll say I attacked him. And I’ll be the one locked up.”
Sawyer bent over Aaron. “His nose is broken.”
“Is it?” Benjamin mocked. “Didn’t even realize that.”
Sawyer glanced up at Flynn. “And you’re bleeding. Did you get shot?”
She could see the dark spot on his shoulder. He’d been shot?
But Flynn didn’t respond to Sawyer’s question. Instead, he grabbed Aaron and yanked the FBI agent to his feet.
Aaron groaned and his eyes opened. He blinked blearily at Flynn. “B-bodyguard?”
“You’re going to die,” Flynn told him clearly. “And then I’m going to let Benjamin get rid of your body.”
No, no, no. This was wrong. Cecelia grabbed at Flynn’s arm again. “Stop.”
“He tried to kill you!” Flynn shouted. “He. Is. Dead.”
“No!” That horrified cry came from Aaron. He stared at Cecelia with blood dripping from his nose. “I…I didn’t! I’d never—”
“You fucking did,” Benjamin told him. “Why do you think I pounded your face into pulp?”
But Aaron shook his head, over and over. “W-wouldn’t…not Cecelia. Not…wouldn’t.”
“You had the rope,” Cecelia croaked.
Aaron’s mouth dropped. “I…hurt her?”
The sirens were so close.
“You’re done,” Flynn promised him. “See you in hell—”
“D-don’t remember!” Aaron cried out. He staggered back and his hands came up to grip either side of his head. “Rage. Dark. Had to attack. Had to kill. Rage.”
Cecelia’s knees trembled even more.
“Attack,” Aaron whispered. Now he was pounding his fist into his chest. “Destroy…”
“Oh, hell,” Sawyer muttered. “Where have we heard that crap before?”
“Lazarus.” Flynn had gone as still as a stone. “Lazarus…Bryce.”
“Could Bryce make the agent attack Cecelia?” Sawyer wanted to know.
Cecelia wanted to know, too, but talking was so hard.
Aaron’s whole body was rocking back and forth, and he shook as if he’d been caught in some kind of storm. His hands lifted to his head and he started to claw at his hair. “Get out!” Aaron bellowed. “Out, out, out!”
“Okay…” Now Benjamin backed up. “What in the hell is going on?”
Madness. Destruction.
Bryce King.
“Footsteps are coming this way,” Sawyer said with a sharp wave of his hand toward the mouth of the alley. “I think we need to get the hell out of here, right now.”
She couldn’t just leave. Aaron was shattering before her eyes. Benjamin’s hands were covered in Aaron’s blood, literally. Benjamin had saved her, but if she left him in that alley, with Aaron—what would happen?
She pushed at Flynn’s chest. “Go.”
He blinked. “Oh, sweetheart, the hell, no, you didn’t just say that.”
“C-cops…”
“Let them come.” He pulled her close. “And every single time you talk, it makes me want to rip apart that fucking FBI bastard.”
“N-not him…”
At least, she didn’t think it had been his fault. She wouldn’t know until she talked more with him. Until she had a chance to really question him and figure things out.
“Uh, yeah, hate to break this to you,” Benjamin rocked forward onto the balls of his feet. “But it was most definitely him. I know you like men with an edge, Cecelia love, but, sorry, this one’s a real freak.”
He didn’t understand, but she thought—hoped—Sawyer and Flynn did.
Sawyer and Flynn were silent, yet she suspected they were communicating plenty. Just on their own frequency.
Then Sawyer gave a grim nod. “Fine, but I don’t like it.”
His words confirmed her suspicions.
“I’ll look for the woman,” Sawyer added. “You handle this shit.”
What woman?
“And remember your new name!” After that last shot, Sawyer rushed away. The guy moved so quickly he actually just seemed to vanish.
“That was, um, fast,” Benjamin sounded shocked.
The shocks were about to just keep coming.
Flynn’s fingers stroked over her neck once more. “Baby, I want to kill him.”
“D-don’t…n-need to know…”
“If Bryce was in his head?”
She nodded.
“Then we’ll find out before I kill him.”
The sirens were so loud. Almost right on top of them.
“This way!” A male voice shouted. “He was covered in blood—looked like a gunshot wound! I saw him run down this alley—”
Flynn pushed Cecelia behind his body. Benjamin stepped forward, too, with his arms raised. “I know that dumbass voice, and that bouncer is so getting fired.”
She peeked around Flynn and saw about four uniformed cops running toward them. All of the cops were armed, and the bouncer from Sin’s front door stood behind them, his hands tight fists at his side.
One of the cops yelled, “Don’t move!”
They already weren’t moving.
Another cop demanded, “What in the hell is happening here?”
And…
Aaron answered. “FBI Agent…ID…” He spat blood on the ground. “In my pocket…”
One of the uniformed cops hurried toward him, but the officer’s gun was still aimed at Aaron.
“Arrest…me,” Aaron gasped. “I attacked…her.”
Cecelia just stood there, watching, as the alley quickly turned into a crime scene around her. The police brought in lights, Aaron was cuffed and led away, and Benjamin told his account of the attack in a cold, flat tone.
“I entered the alley. I saw the FBI agent choking Cecelia Gregory—I knew who they were because they were both in my club less than half an hour ago. They were investigating a murder. A murder that involved a woman being strangled with a rope, so, hell, yeah, you put those puzzle pieces together, I sure as shit did.”
“Ma’am?” An EMT stood at her side. Young, African American, with kind eyes and a soft smile. “I need you to come with me to the ambulance.”
The cops had tried to get Cecelia’s story, but she’d barely been able to croak out a response. Flynn was currently being grilled by another cop.
She knew the FBI would be closing in soon, too. With one of their own involved, they’d swarm.
Aaron was in the back of the ambulance. But he was cuffed and a cop crouched at his side. Blood still poured from Aaron’s nose and his busted lips.
“I’m so sorry, Cecelia,” he cried when she drew closer to him. His eyes were on her throat. “I swear, I never meant—”
“Don’t say…anything…” It hurt to speak. But she didn’t want him to say more. Because if Bryce had been in Aaron’s head, they couldn’t let the cops around them know that fact. Like the cops would ever believe that story, anyway.
Aaron’s lips clamped together. But he was only silent a moment before he added, “It was like I went crazy…”
Another ambulance roared up to the scene. The flash of lights was almost blinding.
“Here,” the EMT said softly to Cecelia. “You go in this one. We want you separated from—” She broke off, wincing, but Cecelia understood.
From the man who’d attacked her.
She climbed into the back of the second ambulance.
“We’re going to take you to the hospital,” the EMT told her. “Get you checked out. Make sure there isn’t permanent damage to your throat.”
One of the ambulance’s back doors was slammed shut.
“Lay down on the stretcher.” The EMT waved to the white cushion. “Just relax—”
Flynn leapt into the back of the ambulance. “You’re not leaving without me.”
“Sir!” The EMT’s voice wasn’t soft any longer. “Get away from the victim! Get—”
“I’m her lover, and I’m not going anywhere.”
This time, the lover bit wasn’t a lie. Not just a cover. The truth.
She’d stretched out on the cushion. Her hand reached for Flynn. Their fingers twined together.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said again.