Total Surrender (2 page)

“I didn’t raise you to be a quitter. Don’t worry. I have a plan,” she said.

As usual, he’d have to work against her. He shoved a hand through his hair, which had begun to curl at his nape. “What’s the plan?” If he was going to figure out a way to save his brothers, he had to get out of there.

“For one thing, I’d like to schedule you for another MRI. Your brain is functioning… abnormally.” She stared at his
forehead as if she could see into his gray matter, her lip curling. “I’m having a PET scan set up for later today, also.”

Fuck, shit, and damn it all to hell. He couldn’t let her discover his special abilities, nor those of his brothers. They’d succeeded for years in hiding the very skills that had kept them alive. But ever since the coma, something new percolated in his mind. Something he apparently couldn’t hide now. “You’ve been doing scans for months. Nothing is different.”

“The scans from last week are different.” She tapped a red fingernail against her lips.

Yeah. His best guess was that new paths had been forged in his brain during the coma, and a weird tingling in his lobe had begun the previous week. Maybe it was his special abilities increasing in power, or maybe it was something new. Either way, he had to mask the truth.

Two heartbeats echoed from outside the room, so he tilted his head to hear better while trying to appear bored. Dr. Madison had no clue about his heightened senses or his extra abilities, and he needed to keep it that way.

A soldier entered first, followed by a woman in her mid-twenties, who slid out from behind him.

Jory’s breath caught in his throat.
Exquisite.
For once, that word could be applied accurately. She stood to about five foot six in black boots wearing a matching leather jacket. Light mocha-colored skin, curly black hair, and eyes greener than the most private parts of Ireland.

She took one look at him and stepped back.

He moved forward and flashed a smile that made her eyes widen. If he had to scare her to make her leave, he’d do it. Anybody seeing him in captivity would be killed by the commander after serving their purpose. So he forced sexual tension to filter through the room.

How he could do it, he wasn’t sure. Maybe pheromones and bodily heat waves, and the ability came easier now than
it had before the coma. It was a hell of an advantage to use sometimes, and he ignored Madison’s quick intake of breath when he employed it.

“Is she for me?” he asked, forcing his gaze to run over the newcomer’s body and surprising himself when he hardened in response. God. He’d been on a mission and then in a coma for two years before spending time in captivity recuperating. When was the last time he’d gotten laid? Way too long ago.

He’d always liked women, although he’d never gotten close to one. Not really. They were either part of a mission or worked as doctors in the facility, and those certainly couldn’t be trusted.

This one was petite with delicate bone structure and clear, intelligent eyes. Whatever her purpose, she sure as hell didn’t belong in the dismal place. Hopefully she’d turn on her heel and get out since he’d leered at her.

Instead she lifted one eyebrow. Her face flushed. “So that’s him.”

Well, damn. Another angel with the heart of a demon. A pang landed squarely in Jory’s chest. Beauty should never be evil. “Yeah, that’s me,” he murmured, dropping the sensual attack. “Who are you?”

She opened her mouth and shut it as Dr. Madison shook her head. “It doesn’t matter who she is,” Madison muttered. Grasping the woman’s arm, Madison led her over to a computer console. “Get to work, and remember the rules.”

The woman jerked free and stepped away from Madison. She eyed Madison like an opponent in a boxing ring—with wariness and determination.

Jory frowned, and his instincts started to hum. Was the woman a prisoner, like him? Maybe he could gain them both freedom, with her help. She was
outside
of the cage, now wasn’t she? He smiled.

Dr. Madison glanced back toward Jory, her gaze narrowing.
“Leave her alone to work, and I won’t have you tranquilized again.” With that, she allowed the soldier to escort her from the room, and the door nicked shut behind her.

The woman sat at the console and turned toward him. “Piper. My name is Piper.” She eyed the partition. Her voice was smooth and sexy… feminine. She guarded her expression well. “They didn’t give me your name.”

Yeah. They wouldn’t have thought to give his name. “Jory.” He really liked the way her tight jeans hugged her curves, and he appreciated the intelligence sizzling in those spectacular eyes. She’d have to be smart to help him escape. “Why are you here, Piper?”

She exhaled slowly and stretched out her fingers. “I’m here to save you, Jory.”

P
IPER KEPT TYPING
in code, her fingers flying over the keyboard. She couldn’t spend another day failing at the task, if for no other reason than succeeding would piss off Dr. Madison. The snotty doctor gloated each and every day the solution remained outside of Piper’s reach, her dislike evident in every condescending sniff.

The rudeness was personal and not from any sense of betrayal or righteous anger. If the doctor had been pissed Piper hacked into the organization’s server a couple of years ago, accidentally earning her a job, then Piper could understand her behavior. But that wasn’t it.

Not even close.

And now? Now Piper had been assigned the most important task in the entire organization—saving the prisoner’s life. Why he mattered, she hadn’t been told.

But everything seemed to be riding on her ability with computers.

Once a hacker, always a hacker—but now she had the chance to do something good with her skills. Something honorable that would cement her position with the organization because of her abilities and not connections.

Saving the man in the cell’s life would make her very, very useful. Plus, the mere idea of a kill chip implanted near the man’s spine was sneaky, and the notion of using a computer program to murder offended her.

So she put her head down and worked hard. Although the myriad of soldiers outside the doorway, armed to the gills, sped up her heart rate and slowed down her typing. Too many guns suddenly surrounded her.

She bit her lip and tried to ignore the itch between her shoulder blades. She’d worked for hours, her mind spinning. After trying unsuccessfully to engage her in conversation, Jory had gone quiet.

But he’d been watching her the entire time. His gaze almost felt physical, and a tension, a layered change in the atmosphere around them, seemed to come from the man in the cell. She’d read about charisma, and she understood tension, as well as instinct. Hers told her the guy had been watching her.

She just
knew
it.

Or maybe her imagination had gone amuck in the military-like facility, and he’d stretched out to sleep on the narrow cot, forgetting all about her. Was he watching or wasn’t he? Unanswered questions pricked her like needles. So finally giving up, she turned to face him.

Nope. He remained sitting, his gaze thoughtful on her. “I
thought you’d never turn my way.” Through the Plexiglas, his voice emerged deep and softened.

“I have work to do.” She brushed hair off her forehead and tried not to squirm. Years ago she’d read a book featuring a hero with the face of a fallen angel, and she had rolled her eyes, while imagining a light-skinned, blue-eyed cherub having curly golden hair that
so
was not sexy.

Now, facing masculine, sculpted perfection… she understood. Angels held ideal beauty, while a fallen one would probably appear dark and deadly, like the man facing her. Gods had chiseled Jory’s face into hard lines and sharp angles. The nearly brutal contours were arranged with full lips, dark brows, and a firm jaw. An unusual gray colored his eyes into the deepest of storm clouds, and a small scar cut into his left eyebrow, hinting at danger and strength.

Any woman would be attracted to him and find him compelling. Alone, in the utilitarian cell, his beauty alone would tempt any romantic to try and save him.

Bad guy or not.

He overwhelmed the cot, his hands and feet beyond large. Most guys his size looked like overgrown puppies, but the thought of comparing the warrior to a scampering animal was laughable at best.

“You’re wasting your time with trying to engage the chip,” he said. “I strongly suggest you give up now and get out of here.”

Charismatic and too handsome, without question. A sense of sexual danger all but cascaded off him, and she had the oddest sense he knew it. Maybe even controlled it—which did nothing but intrigue her more.

She shook her head. The military place full of secrets was messing with her imagination, and the romanticism she had to tamp down. Her stash of romances would remain untouched for a while, and after the job had been
successfully completed, she’d reward herself with a weekend of binging on alpha males and surreal adventures.

For now, she’d get the job done.

He watched her face as if fascinated by an engaging television show. Could he read her so easily? As if responding to her unasked question, he smiled. Even teeth, a flash of white in a devastating face.

Her breath sped up, and flutters beat through her abdomen. Her brain tried to shut down any response, while her body flared alive. A flush spread like wildfire up from her chest and over her face with such a force her skin flamed.

How was he doing that?

Her head snapped up. While her body seemed to be on the blink, her mind remained clear, but now incredibly intrigued. “I can figure out how to wirelessly reach your chip,” she said, quietly pleased when her voice remained steady.

“No, you can’t. While I appreciate the Hail Mary pass, you can’t reconnect to the chip. It’s damaged. Off-line. Unreachable. Trust me.” His earnest expression would probably gain him admittance to heaven if he asked nicely.

Considering that her taste in men truly sucked until just recently, it figured she’d be attracted to him. But really, who wouldn’t be? The guy was every movie hero, romance novel antihero, and sexy villain she’d ever seen all trumbled into one seriously hot package.

But he was full of shit, and he’d just made his first mistake. No way—
no way
had he given up on life so easily. Nobody worked at staying in such amazing physical shape to just roll over and die. Well, unless he had another reason to stay fit. “Trust you? Seriously?”

He cocked his head to the side and lifted one eyebrow. “Sure. Why not?”

She could take the mocking, and she could handle the
tension he seemed to shoot her way. But treating her as a dumb girl and trying to charm her into
trust
? Hell to the no.

She rushed from her chair and toward the cell. So stupid to let her temper free. Darn Irish blood. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re a traitor?” Damn it. She couldn’t let him get under her skin, but anybody who’d turn against their own country should be shot. Not saved. And somebody that freakin’ amazingly hot had so many advantages in life it was even worse he’d chosen the wrong path. “Here I am trying to fix the chip planted in your back.”

He stood slowly and deliberately, his dark gaze keeping hers, his expression inscrutable. “Who do you think planted the chip?”

She swallowed and fought the urge to step back. Damn, he was big. Instead, she lifted her chin, a necessity if she wanted to meet his gaze directly. “That’s what happens when you double-cross Russians.”

A low rumble of a laugh barked out of him. “Russians? Seriously? Fucking Russians.” Dark amusement filtered through his tone and glittered in those amazing eyes. “You’re not as smart as you look, green eyes.”

She was a fucking genius, actually. Even though most of the world believed Russia was contained, her limited experience at the NSA during her internship proved otherwise. “While I appreciate your attempts to get into my head, I should get back to work to save your life. You know, in time for the court martial.”

His smile revealed even white teeth. No dimples. Shouldn’t a fallen angel have a dimple or two? “There’s no way to fix the chip, as it was damaged physically by a bullet. No router problem, no way to repair the connection. Setting to WAP personal won’t work and neither will setting to mixed network mode.” He shrugged massive shoulders.

Interesting. She stilled and studied him closer, if that were
possible. Intelligence filled his eyes, which she’d overlooked because of his hulking size… and his incredible looks. “So you know a little bit about computers, do you?” If he was as knowledgeable as he seemed, he could’ve sold all sorts of state secrets to their enemies.

“A bit. Don’t waste time using stumblers or sniffers. The last techs they sent wasted too much time trying.” He sighed. “Then they tried a wireless honey pot. Idiots.”

She shook her head. He seemed to have the world at his feet, just from brains, brawns, and beauty. “Why?” she asked, her voice croaking.

Furrows dug into his forehead, and he stepped closer to the glass. “Why what?”

Although impossible, she could swear she felt heat from his body through the partition. “Why would you do such a thing? Betray your own people?” Sure, she’d made mistakes—big ones. But disloyalty wasn’t one of them.

His gaze softened. “I have never betrayed my own people. Ever.”

The words had to be a lie, but truth echoed in the low tones. She sighed. “So
your people
aren’t the citizens of your own country.”

One massive shoulder lifted. “I’d never turn against this country, but no. My
people
share my blood.” He paused and rubbed his scruffy chin. “Well, and the women they might love—I’d never betray them, either.” His smile returned at the last.

For some reason, the statement both intrigued and irritated her. “So your people are only men.”

“
More
than men and never
only.
” He didn’t appear to move, but suddenly seemed taller. Bigger. More formidable. “Is there anybody you’d die for?”

“Yes.” Absolutely and without question.

His lids half lowered. “How about kill for?”

She blinked. “Y-Yes.” The order of his question as well as the flash of sorrow in his dark eyes bespoke of hidden hurts and unplumbed deaths. “Who are you?” she whispered.

“I like that about you. A lot.”

Her chest warmed, and warning clanged inside her brain. “Like what?”

“The way you blurt out what’s in your head without thinking. You’ve done it twice already.” His full upper lip quirked. “While you’re definitely on guard, your natural state is unguarded. Very appealing.”

Oh, he did not get to read her so easily. “Maybe I’m working you.”

Now his eyes darkened, swirling with something… male. “Baby, you could work me any day.”

Laughter rolled out of her, quick and unexpected.

His eyebrows lifted.

She forced her lips out of a smile. “That come-on voice you use, trying to be suggestive. It’s such baloney.”

He rubbed his bottom lip, studying her. Deep. Before he’d seemed merely curious, now it felt like he dug deep and mined her brain. Maybe deeper. She wanted to step away, to get back to work, but the guy was like a refuge in the middle of chaos. Even trapped, a sense of calmness surrounded him.

When was the last time she’d been calm?

“Jory? Is that your real name?” For some reason, knowing his real name mattered. Why, Piper would figure out later.

“Yes. Always has been.” Jory flattened his platter-sized palm against the glass. A wicked and faded white scar marred his life line. “Is Piper your name?”

Her head jerked back. “Yes. Always has been.” An urge to press her palm against his, even to just marvel at the difference in size, propelled her back a step. “If you tell me who implanted the chip, maybe I could figure out where it came
from and study the design so I can somehow reconnect wirelessly with it. So the damn thing doesn’t go active, slice your spine, and kill you.”

No physical reaction whatsoever from the hard-ass prisoner.

“If I told you, they’d kill you.” He kept his palm in place, the scar a deadly reminder of who he was and what he might do. “Get out now, Piper.”

A chill skittered down her spine. “Nobody will kill me. We’re both protected here.”

He sighed.

She shook her head. Yeah, she wanted to save him, and not just to cement her place in the organization. To be truly useful and needed. Maybe there was a good reason he’d betrayed the people she now trusted? She shook her head. There was no good reason. “You’re just too good-looking. Bad guys shouldn’t look like you.”

His cheek creased. “I’m not a good guy, I admit. But in this world, in the place you’re standing in right now? I’m not even close to the baddest. Unfortunately.”

Fanatics believed wholeheartedly in their cause and in the rightness of their crimes. She knew better than to trust him, and she was too smart to be manipulated. “I can see you believe your statement.”

A line formed between his eyebrows. “What exactly did Dr. Madison tell you about me?”

Piper paused. There didn’t seem to be a good reason to withhold information. “She told me you were an American asset, one trained in assassinations, who turned against our country and sold secret information to the highest bidders and then ended up working with the Russians. Apparently your new friends didn’t trust you, so they implanted a kill chip next to your spine, and a bullet impacted the device, rendering it off-line.”

Jory quirked his upper lip. “Great story.”

She studied him. What if the story was untrue? Dr. Madison was a stone-cold bitch and probably had no problem lying. Especially since she couldn’t stand Piper. “Want to counter?”

“No.”

An odd regret weighed down her shoulders. “So it’s true.”

“No.” He shook his head. “The less you know about me, the safer you’ll remain.”

What a bunch of baloney. “If you cared about my safety, you wouldn’t have sold my country’s secrets to our enemies,” she shot back.

He shook his head. “You’re really a patriot, now aren’t you?”

She lifted her chin. “Yes.” Although her reasons for working at the compound were definitely personal and not professional, she loved her country and couldn’t understand how anybody could betray their homeland. “I studied computers and coding through college and graduate school just to be able to work here.”

“So you’re here voluntarily.” Whatever openness had been in his gaze moments ago snapped closed—hard and fast, like a bank vault door.

She bit the inside of her lip. “Yes. I trained at the NSA, and that made me appealing for this organization.” Of course, she’d already been in contact with the organization when she’d earned the NSA internship, but since the NSA didn’t know that fact, neither should the prisoner. Now saving Jory was her assignment.