Braided Silk Ella Drake Published 2011 ISBN 978-1-59578-872-6 Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2011, Ella Drake. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. Manufactured in the United States of America Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com Email:
[email protected] Editor Ansley Blackstock Cover Artist Amanda Kelsey This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Blurb Rapunzel was made with technologically advanced hair. As a trained Mother agent, Zel can't escape the DNA that makes her a pawn in corporate espionage. Kidnapped and held in a tower on Gothel Island, she falls prey to the sexual allure of her captor’s son, Langley, a man whose every tantalizing touch makes her forget she wasn’t born human. Langley Gothel protests the existence of creations such as Zel, but when faced with losing her, he sees the truth: Life is precious, whether born, modified, or shaped in a Petri dish. He does the one thing he thought he'd never do. He has to give up Zel, or become a mod. But will that be enough go get them down from the floating islands and safely to ground? Dedication To my little guys, who are the reason fairy tales speak to me. And thank you to Brenda Davis and Hailey Edwards for their wonderful help with Rapunzel.
Chapter One Rapunzel shaved her head in protest. Her dead hair now lay at her feet in strands of unique protein filaments. The follicle hand laser dropped to the floor from her slack fingers with a clank. Rubbing the top of her unnaturally smooth scalp, she fought back the sting in her eyes and the burn in her nose. Her below-the-waist hair, made of an uncuttable substance, had never been sheared. She blinked rapidly, willing the vanity at bay as she steeled herself to gather all the strands and pitch them out the window of her room in the top tower of a floating island, far, far above the city of New Castle. The city where she’d dump all that hair to rain down on landers, people who toiled so the rich in the sky never had to touch the ground. The landers would never see it coming. “What have you done?” The deep baritone from the doorway startled her. Hand pressed to her chest as if it’d calm her racing heart, she stared out the window at the passing clouds and didn’t turn to the door she hadn’t heard open. The door she’d tried and failed to escape through many times. The hand laser skidded across the floor and against the wall where her visitor kicked it. “I see. So you managed to steal the laser from Mère’s lab.” Langley Gothel, veritable prince of this forsaken floating island, pulled a chair from the hall with a screech along the cold stone floor. “Sit.” Unwilling to be used any longer, she’d managed to steal the laser before it’d been used by her kidnapper. This stalemate had come to a head at that moment. She’d let herself be distracted by Langley Gothel for too long. When the follicle hand laser had sat on a lab cart—unnoticed by all but her the last time Madame Gothel poked and prodded her for research—she’d tucked it into her pocket. Better she get rid of all her hair than let it go to the bitch who’d put her in this tower. Langley lowered his voice and said again, “Sit. Let me see the damage.” As all their assignations started, she ignored him. Ignored the zing of lust that trembled through her. Ignored the longing to stay wrapped in him, a longing nearly as fierce as the one to escape. And as it always progressed, he entreated her again, as if daily he courted her in an accelerated fashion of gentling, wooing, and taking. “Turn around. Face me. I didn’t put you in here.” He knew just how to make her spin around, rage snatching at her, heating her skin, and snarl at him. “You didn’t get me out.” His luscious mouth frowned below deep pools of bottomless eyes that his glasses did nothing to detract from, and he ran a hand through his dark black curls, the texture of which she knew by heart. She’d clutched at the shoulder length silken threads, giving herself over to the bliss of forgetfulness. He had her whenever he wanted her, and she gave it to him, melted for him with one touch. Willingly, even if she hated him for it, and herself. They’d started the affair in a desperate clash of groping hands and impatient mouths before they’d settled into a consuming, fiery intimacy. “Uppity-ass.” She sneered the insult at him. The helpless anger propelled her forward. She swung a hand back in her usual swipe to lift the mass of long hair behind her back. The course strands weren’t there. She ignored the sense of loss and pinioned her body, rotating on one heel, and brought her other foot around. Before she connected, Langley ducked. The harsh sound of his grunt as he reached for her thrummed through her belly. She swirled away from the heat of his fingers as they
brushed across her waist. They sparred daily. At first, she’d done it to strike out, but then they’d simply continued the practice that always ended in foreplay. He admired her talent and applied himself to the lessons. Now, she wanted to hurt him, to block the pain he caused her and she caused herself by killing off her hair to force the end of her imprisonment and the end of their affair. “Get me out of here.” She thrust out an arm and knocked him back with a palm to his chest. “I won’t do that.” He spun away and circled. “You know it’s not right—” she whipped about to keep his flushed face in view—“to keep me here.” His chest rose and fell, his sensual lips half curved, and the sun spilled through the window to sparkle on his glasses. A curl of hair fell across his forehead, and she battled the urge to push it back. He lunged. Spinning her, he gripped her close from behind and pinned her arms to her body. She fought against him but couldn’t break free. The scent of salt and warm, clean fabric clouded her senses. His hold loosened. She dove away, sliding across her bed, away from the window, to crouch in front of the door. Panting, she grudgingly admitted, “You’ve gotten better. You didn’t telegraph that move.” “I had the best teacher.” He slid up out of his stance, a graceful, sleek movement that made her knees weak. Then he glanced at her head with a frown and did something different, unexpected. He stepped back. It went entirely against the usual give and take before they fell to her bed in a heated thrashing. His gaze dropped to the floor at her hair scattered like golden hay beneath his shiny dress shoes. His head tilted, and he didn’t look at her, making her nose sting again with unshed tears. He moved to the window, face averted. Visibly stilling his body from the exertions of their interrupted sparring, he swallowed hard. She tracked the smooth glide of his throat as he talked, rich and sultry, convincing. “Zel, I haven’t helped you escape, but you aren’t my prisoner. I didn’t bring you here.” She didn’t answer. She stared at him in profile during this rare, quiet moment between them. They’d never simply been in her room. No exchanging stories of their ludicrous lives. No fighting. No arguing. No sliding off the bed to the floor and not noticing, or caring. With a greed that frightened her, she fisted her hands and let her gaze take him in, memorize him, because she’d shorn her hair and there would be retribution when her kidnapper found it missing. Her time here was at an end. And she knew he had his own reasons for not freeing her—reasons he did not share with her—but she couldn’t keep herself from asking. “Why? Why don’t you get me out of here?” she whispered, the enormity of what she’d done weighing her tongue. “Mère will have no use for you now,” he muttered, not answering, still not facing her as he spoke of his mother. “She stole you for your hair. Now she’ll have nothing to do with you. She’ll discard you. Like the others.” Zel had never had use beyond her hair. Created by the Mother organization, the secret spy arm of the Global Organization of Strategic Equity (GOoSE), Zel trained as an
agent, spent her free time tinkering in her garden, and reported in for research on her hair once a month. She’d never been free. Until kidnapped, she’d never even left the Mother compound without her creator, Monsieur Bovine, who took pity on her and had her work as his botanical research assistant. Her hair had been modified in-vitro to contain a special keratin, a protein that created unbreakable fibers. The marketability of such a product might have enormous financial impact. But the very nature of her hair—unbreakable—made it impossible to study. No one had delved into its potential until Madame Gothel had broken into Zel’s house with four armed guards. She’d been here for months because Gothel hadn’t found a way to replicate her hair. It didn’t break down, even enough to analyze the individual cells. Gothel, a bio-researcher, wanted to study the properties of her hair to create indestructible prosthetic limb replacements. So far, she’d been unable to gather any useful data as the proteins didn’t allow sampling, but every time Zel went for another day of poking and prodding, Madame Gothel was exuberant, convinced she’d make her breakthrough given time. Her latest idea had been to kill a small patch of Zel’s hair follicles to take a few strands to study. And Zel had stolen the tool to kill all of it. Now Zel was no use to Gothel, and she’d likely never see the outside of this room again. “What do you expect from a girl they named after a plant and then trained as an agent? They kept me out of the field. Even as a researcher, I’m not much use to anyone.” “That’s not true.” With no elaboration, he turned to her suddenly, a fire lit in his expression, and he ripped the sheet off her mattress and gestured to the floor. “Help me. We need every silken strand.” His determined air suited his handsome appeal, even though he wore those fancy slacks only Islanders could afford. The tan of his chest peeked through at the top of his silky button down shirt. The smell of clean male drifted to her as he knelt. The scent teased her. She knelt beside him, breathed deeply, and croaked, “Why should I let you have it? Why not pitch it out the window?” He was the reason she’d taken this chance at freedom. Her feelings for him had clouded her judgment and when she saw the laser, she’d realized it. She’d stopped trying and she had to start again. The only way to get out of this room was to get rid of her hair. She had to leave, before this gorgeous man destroyed her from the inside out. His shoulders tensed, and he frowned at the floor, still not looking at her. He whispered, “We have to do something. You’ve made a mess out of everything.” Twelve weeks, over. Even during their most personal moments together, his emotions had been closed from her, Zel the creation, someone beneath him, not human. But he’d made her body feel alive, as fertile as the spring soil, if not loved. They were done though it’d never really started for him. He was a good man, at heart. If he didn’t see her as a real woman, he’d still free her since she was in real danger, much like he’d set an abused dog free. She could see it in his demeanor. Whatever secrets he had, whatever reason he hadn’t helped free her no longer mattered. “Get me out of this room, Langley.” He looked at her, then. Deep brown eyes, full of secrets, thick lashes, dark slashes of brows. The angles and planes of his face fascinated her. “Do you trust me?” She shook her head, leaned in to whisper against his full lips, “No.”
“You will. Now. No questions.” He kissed her. Engulfed her senses with his essence. Male. Masculine. So potent, the first time she’d seen him, incredible as it seemed, he’d made her mouth run dry with want. The absolute frenzy to mate—so strong she couldn’t think straight until she’d climaxed beneath him—became less crazed after the first encounter, but he still made her burn with his presence. With an effort, she pulled back from the tangle of tongues and panted, all her muscles tight against the urge to jump his bones. She’d never understood what it was about him that made her nipples tighten to smell him, hear his deep voice, or feel the heat of his body. “I can’t.” She sat back on her heels to put some distance between them. “You’ve had sex with me. A lot of sex. Good sex.” Her heart thumped hard in her chest as his voice deepened. “You know the danger of my being here with you.” He frowned, and the expression seemed real, as if she’d hurt him. “Yet, you still can’t trust me. I didn’t put you here.” “But you didn’t get me out of here, either.” She squelched the inner voice she let slip out. Now wasn’t the time to put him on his guard against her. They were enemies. They never should have started this crazy affair. After pushing his glasses back up his nose, he kept sweeping her hair onto the sheet while a shame weighed on her more and more with each passing second. With a shaking hand, she palmed strands of the tech that until moments ago, had grown out of her head as if it were actually hair. It was coarse but shiny. Langley had loved to run his fingers through it. “You still heading to the ground to go to your anti-bio rally?” She extended the olive branch, hoping to repair the connection between them she should sever, but her heart was breaking in the stony silence. They’d had this argument before. If bio didn’t exist, she wouldn’t be here. She’d been created in the lab, not as he had, in a womb. Granted, it had to be a cold womb, as motherly as the dish her donor’s egg had inhabited. That he’d had the convictions of his belief, with a mother like his, proved he had a core of goodness inside him even if his belief meant she could never have him. All of her hair now collected onto the sheet, he gathered up the edges of the fabric into a bundle and stood. He didn’t answer her question. “I’ll be back tonight. Be ready to go.” Without another glance, he walked out. It wasn’t as if she had anything to do, anything to prepare. The small room held the narrow, hard bed she’d slept on, books, a game station, and a treadmill. None of it hers. None of it something she wanted to remember. The only thing she wanted to remember had walked out the door. She should trust him, but somehow, she knew tonight would be a disaster. And even if she left this room, she had nowhere to go—except back to Mother. * “Plans have changed.” Langley walked through his suite, to his desk, and carefully put down Zel’s bundled hair. His valet, Bennet, appeared as usual—as if out of thin air—with a concerned frown set all over his typically stoic countenance. “This looks like hair.” “Zel’s.” He fingered a strand and couldn’t put it back with the others lying in a glittering coil on the plain white sheet. “I need you to make this into a rope somehow.” Bennet, the only man he could trust on this floating island, stroked a hand gently
over the strands and a surge of jealousy and rage roiled in Langley’s stomach. He clenched his hands to tight fists. To see anyone touch even her hair left him seeing red. The realization he didn’t want anyone—not one single other man—touching her, even in this way, made the room spin around him. Stunned all the way to his core, he came out of the haze of brutal possessive need with Bennet’s continued questions. “I can make a braid, I suppose, but what are you doing with it? How in the world did you…” “Enough for now.” He spun away, unable to see Bennet touching the golden tresses. “Zel has caused too many delays in our mission. For weeks, we’ve been altering our tactics.” He swallowed hard, denying the guilt he’d been using her—not just sexually—but as a distraction for Mère so she wouldn’t notice his betrayal, and as another point of evidence in his mission to make bio-creations illegal. He’d been watching Zel intently, trying to find her flaws, what made her different from the natural born. So far, all he’d found to be different was her hair and her depth of compassion, something he’d never found in anyone else. “We haven’t made much progress in studying her.” Bennet’s naturally soothing voice sounded like it came to him from a great distance, as if Langley were at the bottom of a deep, dark well. “The only thing we’ve been able to find that sets her apart from humans is this hair. Now we have it. You can turn it over to NOMBIO.” “No,” Langley shouted, and spun toward Bennet, who only raised his brows at him in the imperial fashion that always got his attention even as a boy entering manhood. He blew out a long breath and rolled his shoulders. “No.” “You love her.” The soft statement from Bennet didn’t come with condemnation, but it settled heavily on Langley’s shoulders. “I can’t love a bio-creation.” That was all the truth he understood. But it wasn’t everything. “How can one love a being who has no right to exist? They have no rights, no birth certificates, no parents.” His mind continued the litany as Bennet nodded serenely and bent over the hair, gently braiding it with amazing dexterity. A bio-creation had no future in the world of the rich on the floating cities. They had no place on the ground in the movement he’d contributed to as much as possible. NOMBIO—No Mods or Bios—worked to end the practice of creating bio-tech and would’ve forbidden Zel’s very life before her creation. Rapunzel Denmark was not human. NOMBIO would ban any new mods or bios, and protect the ones in existence from the atrocities they were frequently victim to. If NOMBIO had its way, Rapunzel would be the last of her kind and would live her life out of sight. This was the mission Langley had dedicated his life to and it’d gotten all muddled in the past few weeks. The need to run his hand over the shorn head of Zel had sucker-punched him with a longing so intense it caused a sweet ache in his chest to look at her, the pinch so keen it threatened to bring him to his knees. He’d never felt the like. Something about the way Bennet moved his nimble, mod-enhanced fingers put Langley’s teeth on edge. He couldn’t watch his valet do this work. Crossing to the other side of the desk, he reached beneath the drawer and pulled the hidden data button from the hollowed-out shelf he’d made for it. With one finger push, it slid across the glossed surface of the desk toward Zel’s hair and Bennet, who stopped his motions and stared at
it. “Finish the braid. I’ll use it to get Zel out of here. Take the button with the evidence and once we’re on the ground, retrieve the braid and meet me at the condo.” Ever the one who knew Langley’s intent before he did himself, Bennet nodded and bent over his task again. Langley resisted the urge to say something personal to Bennet, to thank him. The man didn’t want his thanks. His hand fisted around a bit of silk in his hand. Surprised, he opened his fingers and stared. He’d braided the strand of hair, not even knowing he’d done so. Pocketing it, he left his suite with purpose in his stride. Zel was in real danger from Mère’s anger. There was no doubt. Once Mère was done with Zel, she’d do the same as she’d done to the other bio-creations. She’d decommission Zel, all the life drained from her before being discarded. Some Mère killed outright with an injection. Some, she took apart for other uses. Langley shuddered. Until today, he’d denied Zel’s pleas for freedom. She was a bio-creation. She didn’t require freedom. Her existence here was as good as on the ground, actually had more purpose here because he could use her to stop the factory process of creating bios, but the sure knowledge Mère would now dispose of Zel changed everything. Moving through the long halls of marbled floors, he stared sightlessly out the tall windows opening to endless sky. This mansion in the clouds symbolized everything wrong in New Castle. Megacorps ruled everything, including the defacto government, GOoSE. He couldn’t do anything about that. He couldn’t join Mother, the spy organization that investigated the megacorps, but he could stop Mère’s cruelty. Shutting off all softness for the woman who’d given him birth, he set his life purpose to gathering the evidence to shut her down and take over Gothel Island. He’d even decided to use Zel to do it. His secret mission was to give NOMBIO evidence of Mère’s past experiments to build a persuasive case against the creation of bios at Cupboard Labs. He’d been humoring Mère’s discussions of research for weeks, all the while planning to take over Gothel, and ban all use of bios and mods. If he compromised himself with Zel, all his work would be for nothing. None of the others in the upper echelons of the megacorps would support him when he finally took over Gothel Island. And NOMBIO would kick him to the curb. Langley had to face the truth. NOMBIO wouldn’t take evidence from a man who’d had a passionate affair with a bio-creation, and Mère would continue her unconscionable research. He couldn’t continue his good work and have Zel, too. He stopped in the downstairs of his private wing and stared at his expensive black shoes. Surrounded by a rich and plush carpet made by weavers—landers who lived forever beneath the smog, his unflawed loafers never saw the ground or suffered marring by dirt. He shook off the maudlin thoughts and strode through the corridors reminiscent of the Hospital Island, stark, sterile, and barren. His time with Zel was over. As soon as he got her to the ground.
Chapter Two Langley wasted no time finding his mère. She was in her office, and though she doted on her only child as much as possible for one such as she, he paced back and forth for an excruciatingly slow half hour in the waiting room. Too long. He considered the ramifications of this plan, doubted, and nearly burst into her office in his impatience. That would not do. To calm himself, he thought of Zel. He’d never forget his last hungry glance at her. She stood, chin up, mouth full from their kiss, and though now bald, still as beautiful as she’d been with the long, luscious, blond hair. Her elegance had enchanted him, a strong bearing though she wore a simple relaxed pantsuit resembling pajamas as much as prison garb. The bright blue of the fabric highlighted her smooth, pale skin with a blush high on her cheeks, and the defiant sparkle of her blue eyes. She seemed so real to him. Not a fabrication. Not a bio-creation. She had to be real. “Come in, Langley.” Mère opened the door herself and dismissed her efficient secretary Nali, a man of impeccable dress who acknowledged Langley with a cool nod as he passed to take up residence at his desk in the waiting room. The man had spent many nights of the past thirty years in Madame Gothel’s bed and begrudged all her time, even with her son. Several times Langley had wondered if this man was his father. The large space he entered more resembled a lab than a wealthy corporation’s executive offices. Three walls lined with countertops—cabinets beneath and on top— various stages of reports of bio research, from quaint Petri dishes with who-knew-what growing in them, to tablets streaming data from real-time measurements in medical trials, chemical testing, and lab reports. “Mère, I won’t take your time. I wanted to let you know not to expect me at dinner tonight. I’ll be in the library tower doing research on the new proposal you’ve been asking for.” He took a deep breath to continue weaving his cover story, to forestall any searches for him or Zel until tomorrow, but Mère looked at him with a blank expression. Then her eyes cleared, as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d said, which was surprising since she’d asked him to join her research for years and he’d always resisted. He’d just told her he’d join her and she hadn’t reacted. What was she up to? “I’m glad you’re here. Saves me time from finding you.” Mère cast him a genuine smile, and his heart ran cold. “I can’t imagine why you’d seek me out. You’ve never done so before.” He sat in the nearest chair and ground his teeth against the urge to tell her to spit it out, whatever inspired her lips to stretch across her face. “I’m happy to report, the experiment you’ve participated in has started with a complete success.” “Experiment?” He couldn’t possibly be any colder. “Yes.” Sending her black hair waving, she nodded enthusiastically, the fevered glint in her eye more familiar than a pat on the head when he’d learned to spell his name as a toddler. “Rapunzel Denmark is pregnant with your issue. Now I’ll have two subjects with the secret of the unbreakable hair.” “Pregnant?” The room spun about him as his mind tumbled through quick successions of shock, despair, and then a burst of joy. He swallowed back a feeling of vertigo and forced the words, “How is that possible? She has a dam.”
“You should see your face, son. Really, it’s time you worked on your professional demeanor.” With perfectly manicured hands, she shuffled a tablet across the desk and an image of a weeks’ old embryo filled the screen. “She had a dam in place to prevent eggs from leaving her fallopian tubes, as all bio-creations have. Unless their makers decide reproduction is an asset. I removed the dam during her first weekly exam.” He ran a finger over the image on the screen. His child. “Why, you ask?” She continued, though Langley didn’t recall asking the question through his dry lips. “As soon as I had the hair in my care, I knew the only way to market it legally would be if I owned the issue. I removed the dam and made sure you visited her with enough aphrodisiacs pumped into the room to leave no doubt of the outcome.” Fury like he’d never known erupted, too violent to keep inside. Turbulence forced a clarity he’d never acknowledged before. Never. It went against all his convictions, but it was truth. Absolute truth. “Zel is not an ‘it’. She’s not the sum-total of nothing but hair. My child is not, either.” He snapped his mouth shut so hard he bit his tongue. The pain registered as a reminder. He’d almost gone too far. He needed to remember the plan. This didn’t change it. It only made it more essential. His mère had manipulated him, used him as a stud. Given how he’d wanted Zel, he didn’t regret that, but he could no longer take advantage of Zel. Nor his child. They were climbing down to the ground from her window. Tonight. Nothing would stop him. Not even the knowledge that if NOMBIO discovered the affair, they’d cast him out in derision and utter contempt. He’d fornicated with a bio-creation. They’d never trust his evidence against Mère. Somehow, he had to end Mère’s research. He’d bungled everything, but he’d do whatever it took to make it right, even forsake Zel. But first, he had to get Zel away from here. “Of course, dear. You’re so soft-hearted. I’ll have to keep you in check so you don’t spoil the child, like I did you. But, I think you will learn, as I have, many things from having a child. Which is why I didn’t just create one from the subject’s DNA. Besides, you seemed a bit bored. I thought you might enjoy a bit of fun.” Fun. He ground his teeth. Mère was not evil, just narrow-minded and manipulative. She’d never directly physically harmed him. Neglect and manipulation were more her style. She only cared for her research, not the repercussions. He cared about the repercussions enough for the two of them. That’s why he’d started his NOMBIO mission. Minutes ago, he’d had doubts about what to do with Zel once he got her out of here, unsure if he should help Zel escape, even at the cost of losing her. But his mère had shifted the world on its axis. Mère would neutralize Zel. His son or daughter would be isolated, like he’d been as child, but worse. Baby Gothel, slated for experimentation— something he’d never, ever allow. He’d lost the thread of the conversation but Mère cocked a brow and waited for his reply. He gritted a vague, “I guess.” “I’m getting started right away. I’ve prepped the lab to remove the embryo. It’ll be better cared for under my direct supervision.” What the hell? “Better than inside his mother?” “You’ve already decided you have a son?” Mère laughed. “Yes, you’ll spoil the issue. And, yes, my tests show it’ll be a male.”
Issue. It. Not child. He had to do something. Immediately. Everything coalesced in his head, the clarity sharper, painful. Zel was a better human than his mother. The foundations of his life crumbled. His mission, his point in life for years, no longer made sense. Blanking his expression, he rose and faced the tablet with his child’s chart. He couldn’t read a thing, but he stared, his mind racing. A small line of text caught his attention. His baby was predisposed to have the same hereditary faulty vision that led Langley to wear glasses. Not much of a detriment in sight, but enough so Mère planned to alter the baby in vitro to correct it. His slight corrective lenses had always bothered Mère. She’d designed and tested new eyes for him, but once a year, on his birthday, he denied her requests to implant new, bio-engineered visual organs. She wanted to make him a mod, a modified human, completely against his ideals and the ideals of his work at NOMBIO. A plan to keep Zel off the lab table formed. He couldn’t take Zel away via the front door. His plan to sneak out using her hair as a rope wouldn’t work. The guards could even now be going to get her. If he tried anything, his mother would have the guards subdue him for his ‘own good’. It’d happened before when he was a teen. He didn’t delude himself he could best a dozen guards with no weapon other than his body. The only thing that would deter Mère was to dangle something she loved in front of her. That something wasn’t him, but what she could do to him. He straightened and faced Mère. “I see here the child will have his vision corrected.” There’d be no going back. All his previous dreams for the future would die with his next words. Even if he could hide his affair with Zel from NOMBIO, he couldn’t hide this. He removed his glasses gently and ran a finger along the frame before he put them back on so he could see her expression. “If I’m to be a father, I should be the best I can be. I’ll do what you’ve asked. You can replace my eyes.” “Perfect. You’ll be perfect, as you always should have been.” She beamed at him, more proud now than she’d ever been before. She’d used so many mods herself, she appeared more as his younger sister than his mère. He could see it. In her excitement, she’d momentarily pushed aside thoughts of doing the procedure on Zel. His lover wouldn’t be lying on that table in a matter of moments having their baby removed from her. He would be lying there. “I want you to do it now. Before I tell Zel about the baby.” Maybe he should be a little nervous about what he’d volunteered to do, but an immediate assurance he did the right thing, protected his woman and child, made him go calm. Only weeks ago he wouldn’t have thought of Zel as a woman, not a bitter irony lost on him. He would’ve looked down on someone such as himself, preparing for a mod, taking a bio-creation as lover. She waved away the concern. “We don’t need to tell her.” “She’ll figure it out,” he replied drily. “She’ll be the maman of my child. It’s my right to be the one to tell her.” A strange rush rocked through him and he concentrated lest a grin broke on his face. “You don’t need to deal with her again.” Mère raised an indignant brow. “I’m removing the embryo and she won’t be necessary.” “Don’t you think that’s my decision to make?” Tension tightened in his chest and
focused his resolve. Not necessary meant many things to Mère—from being ignored, to being put down. Zel would be neither. His mère’s face burned red as her lips twisted in an ugly frown, but before she could launch into further autocratic decrees, he held up a hand. “Mère, we don’t need to decide this today. Let’s take care of my eyes. Now. So I’ll be fully healed before the child gets here. And I’m keeping Zel. She’s a useful distraction when I’m in the mood for it.” “There’s plenty of time to discuss it.” The anger dropped from her features and she tapped the image of his baby. His baby. He shook his head. If she did his surgery now, she’d wait to do anything to Zel. She was methodical and thorough with every experiment before moving to another. He’d been caught off guard. If he’d known he needed to get Zel out and confront Mère’s guards, he could’ve called in some extra muscle from NOMBIO. But he didn’t have time. Now that she’d told him about the baby, Zel could be gone before he managed to get through to NOMBIO. “I want it done.” “You’ll be modified. You’ve always insisted you wouldn’t taint your humanity.” She gave him a condescending smile, driving away all doubt, even if he’d had any. He hadn’t left Gothel Island in months. Then twelve weeks ago, he’d done as Mère asked and visited her new project, Zel. His life—and his thinking—had capsized that day, but he’d still ignored the deep-seated sea change. “It’s no more than what you’ve done to yourself,” he replied. “Let’s go. You’re right. Let’s get it done before you change your mind.” She headed to the rear door of her office to her personal lab space, and he followed, pausing at a nearby counter. On the tablet an old experiment, Mère’s favorite, played through picture evidence and stats that still curdled the blood in his veins. Mère bought a dozen males for the purposes of vaccination trials to cure a deforming disease that had evolved in the past dozen years and spread through the poorer lander populations. She’d infected those men and gave them dose after dose of painful injections. They no longer resembled the human forms they’d started in by the time they were put down, their skin a jumble of scars and melted flesh. Twelve lives, deformed in pain, and killed. But she’d found the cure and in return, had become the most successful bio-researcher of their time, a position she held more dear than anything else, including her lone son. She’d raised him in her wake, to believe bio-creations weren’t human, but the day he’d learned of this experiment, he’d started to pull away from her. He’d decided that bio-creations weren’t just not human, they shouldn’t exist, even to fulfill research. And this was the experiment he’d honed in on. When he’d joined NOMBIO, he’d decided to use this Gothel research project as the catalyst to bring Gothel down. For months he’d painstakingly dealt with Mère’s state-ofthe-art security measures. The encryption codes changed every fifteen minutes making it a slow process to piece together evidence to show the misuse of bios, the cruelty, and the fact they weren’t the same as natural-born. When Zel had shown up, he’d used her presence to distract his mother from her paranoiac guarding of her lab, allowing him to copy other, more readily available research, but never once had he considered letting Zel go free while he hadn’t gotten what he needed to sabotage the megacorp. “Come. You said you wanted to do this. Don’t dawdle, now. I have the new eyes ready.” She waved at him to follow her.
“I’m right behind you.” He resisted the urge to push his glasses up his nose. “I don’t know why it took you so long to agree.” She led him into the lab and to the cordoned off hospital area. “Once you’re recovered, it will be time to put your education to use and come work with me. I let you have your fun, your little rebellion phase. Now you need to get serious. We’ll be unstoppable. The best bio-researchers of all time.” He kept his silence as he changed into the medical gown Mère shoved into his hands. The operation began smoothly. Speaking soft and soothingly, two nurses gently prepped him. Too bad Mère hadn’t been more like these matronly women in pale yellow smocks. The nurses would treat him the same after the procedure, even though he’d be a mod. Prickling heat spread through him from the needle embedded in his wrist. No matter what, Zel and their child were his family, even if he couldn’t have them at his side. Humanity didn’t mean the same thing to him anymore. “Go to sleep, son. I’ll take care of everything.” Eyes glinting, Mère bent over him, and a panic seized his chest. She eyed him with familiar condescension. He tried to bolt up, but the thin blanket covering him was too heavy. As he tried to keep his eyes open, to speak to her, to beg her not to do anything rash, he knew he’d made a mistake. He just didn’t know what it was. He fell into troubled sleep. Visions of blurry movement, cool touches, and efficient clicks of a woman’s heels filtered through the haze. A straw prodded his mouth. Bennet came. And he went. Langley slept in fits. When he woke, it was dark. It only took the space of one deep breath for him to remember. Sitting up, the world pitched and yawed. The hoarse word bled through his dry lips, “Zel.” “Easy.” He recognized Bennet’s voice. His valet put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s only been an hour since they put you in bed. Madame Gothel demanded you not get up for at least a week. She kept you under for three days.” “Days,” he croaked. His mistake. It rushed back at him, what he couldn’t remember when his mother put him under. He hadn’t gotten word to Zel that he wouldn’t be back. It’d been days since he’d promised to get her out. She didn’t know her danger. He had to find out if his plan worked, if his mother had left Zel alone. He lunged up and nausea choked him as white sparks swirled behind his blinded eyes. He took deep breaths until it passed. “Take it slow,” Bennet mumbled and gripped his upper arm. Awkward, shaky, and unable to see a damn thing, he swung his legs over the side of the mattress. Bennet helped him from the bed, guided him into the sanitation stall, and after Langley was clean, dressed him while updating him on the goings and comings of the staff. Nobody had yet to see Zel’s clipped hair. Bennet had taken care of her, himself. She was unharmed. For now. “Good.” Langley swallowed, trying to dispel the metallic tang in his mouth and the uneasiness his blindness instilled in him. And he didn’t let himself dwell on the fact he was now a mod, now no longer welcome in NOMBIO, and he couldn’t make amends with the organization since he’d failed his mission. Even if they’d accept his evidence, he hadn’t had enough time to piece together a solid argument to have Gothel closed down for good. “Help me to Zel’s tower and then get the data button and the braid down to the
ground. Get in touch with NOMBIO and tell them I’m coming in.” “Yes, sir.” “And make sure you’re careful.” He regretted the commanding tone with Bennet, who was a faithful servant and friend, but urgency made him sharp, on edge. After weeks of taking the back stairs to Zel’s room, he’d become familiar enough with the walk to make it there blindfolded, but now that he was, he was grateful for Bennet’s helpful shoulder in the unrelenting darkness. More than once, Langley’s nausea made him stop in his tracks. By the time they got to the tower, he’d mustered past most of the physical discomfort. Bennet slipped a hand into Langley’s pocket. “These are the painkillers. They’re in the bottle. The packet is full of the medicine you can’t skip on. She said it would make sure your body wouldn’t reject the new eyes and it speeds natural recovery times. Take them every six hours. Bandages can come off tonight, in a dark room, but she’d decided to be cautious and wait another day before she removed them. Don’t forget, a dark room.” “I won’t.” He repressed the urge to nod, keeping his aching head as still as possible. Bennet slid the weight of a pack onto Langley’s shoulders and guided his hand back to the wall. “Are you sure you’re recovered enough for this?” Bennet’s usual calm seemed completely absent in his worried tone. “Get rid of the guard.” There’d be no help from NOMBIO. They had no time for him to indulge this weakness. Langley leaned into a doorway, around the bend from Zel’s room, and waited for Bennet to shuffle back past with the guard, who protested leaving his post. “This will only take a second. I don’t have my keys and just need you to open the storage door down here.” Bennet’s voice carried down the hallway and grew distant. With Bennet’s support, he hadn’t felt the blindness to its full extent. Time was short, and he had a difficult time making his feet move forward into complete blackness. He hadn’t spoken to Zel in three days now. She’d probably wondered if he’d abandoned her, but the surgery had taken a day, and then they’d kept him immobile for the crucial time for the rapid healing agent to get him through what would otherwise have been months— maybe years—of recovery. Bennet verified Mère hovered near, in case of a turn for the worse, and Zel stayed forgotten in her tower. She wouldn’t be for long. Using his fingers as guides along the wall, he made his way to her door. It had taken a toll. The slow progress had left him weak, shaky, but he didn’t stop. He placed his hand on the security pad and the door slid open.
Chapter Three Zel ran on the treadmill, but no matter how hard she pushed herself, she couldn’t outrun the fact Langley hadn’t come back. He’d said to trust him. “Pfft,” she hissed at the exercise display, upped the speed past recommended levels, and forced her pace faster on burning legs. Despite the anger and pain, she was worried. She’d surprised herself by believing he’d come back and help her escape. She’d waited for three days until the stress had made her too nauseous to eat the meals delivered through a slot too small for her to fit through. She’d tried when they first put her in here. When had she stopped seeking to escape? She tried to ignore it. Nearly tore it down off the wall, but she gave in to the undeniable craving and looked straight ahead, where she’d put Langley’s gift on the wall. Every day she stared at it while she exercised. Or any time she wasn’t staring out the window. A wafer-thin tablet hung on the wall and slowly flipped through an album of stills. Langley had given her this animated frame after their first week together. He’d had it in his room before. She’d memorized every shot. A rare one of him as a teen, standing with a group of uniformed kids. First day of school and he stood slightly apart. Alone. Another image had captured her imagination. He’d taken a panorama from the island as it passed over a crater in a section of New Castle that had burned to the ground during the food riots two hundred years ago. The ground was too unstable to build scrapers so it remained a pit of refuse and camps of indigents. Her favorite pic made her heart beat faster, a shot of several men and women at a party, laughing, standing close to him. Still aloof, separate somehow, she imagined what it would be like to dress in such finery and couldn’t help but be jealous of the women, though she had no idea if any were his date. She’d never had a group of friends. Or a date. As usual, she lost herself in imagining Langley’s world as the album slideshow sucked her into its allure. The door slid open, and she stumbled off the treadmill, trying to orient herself and gasping for breath. A shiver worked over her skin, telling her who was there. “Zel.” His deep voice stroked balm over the hurt that had taken root beneath her ribs. He shuffled into the room and the light from the window fell on his face. Bandages covered his eyes and a large portion of his pale face. He was injured. Anger rushed through her and made her stomach burn. “What did she do to you?” She ran to him, slipping her arms around his lean waist and hugging tightly, burying her nose into his hard chest and breathing in his clean scent. His firm masculine body crushed against her and burned her skin almost as if the layers of their clothing didn’t exist, her dingy exercise sweats and his elegant, clean lined business attire. “I’ll be fine.” His breath whispering across her skin, he wrapped his arms around her and spoke with his lips lightly touching her scalp before he kissed her head. Goose bumps covered her body, and she groaned. “If I’d known how sexy it felt for you to kiss me there, I’d have shaved my head the first day here.” “But then, we wouldn’t have had this time together.” She squeezed him harder, as if she’d fall apart if she let him go. Not long ago she
would have scoffed at his response, saying she’d have given up her time here, even to be with him, if she could be back on the ground and working in the gardens at Mother. All she’d ever wanted, ever, was to live a quiet life, as a regular human being, and tend her herbs and flowers, even if it meant living in a small condo at the Mother compound. But she’d never been a regular human being. Like a pet, she couldn’t go anywhere without a keeper. Not having the option to live simply, she’d tried to do the opposite and become a Mother agent, but even that wasn’t available to her, a creation. Bovine had let her be a research assistant, but it was a gift from the caring man. Something he didn’t have to do for her. Seeing Langley hurt brought everything into clarity. She loved Langley Gothel. Langley, who picketed her birthplace, wanting researchers to stop making bio-creations. Langley, who had convictions, but was tender, and made love to her with his whole body and mind. “What happened?” Unable to get her arms to let him go, she whispered into his chest. “I let my mère replace my eyes. She’s been asking me for years. Surprised she didn’t do it without my permission before now.” “You, who calls for the end of bio-tech, even mods?” She didn’t understand. He looked down on her, a creation not born, at some level. She felt the disparity and still didn’t think she was worthy of him. She couldn’t share her feelings with him. He’d never love her back. “This was the only way. We have to get out of here, now.” She stepped back and caressed his bandaged face, running a hand along his cleanly shaven cheek. “You’re letting me go?” “Yes.” His jaw worked beneath her hand as he clenched his teeth. An incredible rush of sadness hollowed her chest. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to leave him. Once he got her to the ground, she’d never see him again, but she couldn’t stay. She’d long realized that as soon as the novelty of her wore off, he’d stop coming to visit. Once Gothel finished her research, Langley would let Zel go, maybe not even say goodbye. They’d always been on borrowed time. “I’ll help you down the stairs.” She took a deep breath and expelled the regret. “Where’s the hair? We can’t leave it here.” “We’re not going that way.” He grinned, and though she couldn’t see the light of his eyes beneath the wrap, she’d never seen him so carefree. His grin wrapped around her heart and squeezed. He shrugged out of a pack, fumbled with the opening, and brushed aside her hands. “Don’t. I’ve got it.” She knelt next to him, but when he’d lost the grin, fumbling, she wanted to help. Instead, she ran aching, hungry fingers down his back and along the crisp, clean, buttondown shirt. Even with his face bandaged, he had the same tidy, masculine look that made her want to muss him up. She stared at a rope he pulled from the pack. The flash of familiar gold stunned her. “What are you doing with my hair?” “Using it to climb out the window.” He said it calmly, naturally, as if what he’d said didn’t make her wonder if the surgery had done something to his senses. “Why not just go down the freaking stairs?” Her question came out a bit more urgent
than she’d wanted, but she couldn’t stop the incredulity from making her want to bash him over the head. She might hurt his eyes—but no more than falling to the ground would. “There are too many guards between here and the hovercraft bay. We’d never make it out of here. Even I can’t leave without Mère’s permission. I have ways around that, but none of them would get you to the ground, too. She started tracking the craft the first time I leaked information on her research to NOMBIO. It caused her a bit of bad publicity.” “You did that?” Something loosened in her chest before she made herself realize it didn’t mean he’d changed his views. He wanted the abuse of property—of live beings— to stop. “I did.” He shrugged. “All will go well.” His assurance calmed her. The near panic went away, and it still amazed her that his control over her body let him ease her fears with a few insistent words. “Come. We’re climbing down.” He stepped forward and halted. Lips tightening, he put out his hand in front of him to tap the air. “Let me.” Every question and concern other than him vanished. They made their way over to the already open window. She kept it ajar at all times, eager to breathe in the fresh air and do anything to escape some portion of this small, stale prison. “Put this loop around the closest leg of the bed. Quietly. The guard is back by now.” Langley gripped the window sash and cocked his head, listening for anything that would put a stop to his plans. Thankful for the industrial, prison-like bed bolted to the floor, she knotted the end of her hair tightly, tested it by leaning back and tugging with all her weight, and fed the silken rope into Langley’s hands. With dexterous, nimble fingers that had played along her flesh with glorious results, he uncoiled the rest, a long line of braided filament. “You really think we’ll make it down that? It’s thin.” She almost voiced a concern it might break, but it wouldn’t. “You have to go first. I hate being like this. I can’t protect you.” He frowned as the wind tousled his glossy black hair. Gorgeous, natural hair with wisps curled around the bandage covering half his face. So strong, even without sight. He’d make it to the ground. She couldn’t believe she was going along with this insanity, but she did, because even though he was an uppity-ass, Langley was the most grounded person she’d ever met. “Let’s get this over with.” She straddled the window ledge and looked back into her room. Alarm jolted her and she plopped back down onto the floor. “Just a minute.” She ran to the wall and carefully lifted the album of pictures off the wall. The images flickered off when she started to fold the thin device. Reverently, she kept folding it in on itself until it was small enough and she slipped it in her pocket. “Ready now.” She brushed against him on her way back, and his frown eased. Once again, she perched on the window. This time she had no reason to look back and instead, looked down. Her room was in the top of the highest tower, at the edge of the levitating island. Far below, through trails of clouds, New Castle stretched along the ground for miles and miles. The city was so large, she’d never find the end of it on the horizon. The island floated above, in a regular circular flight path, the same as the other islands. They were so high, clouds whispered past them. She gulped. “So you know what part of the city we’ll
come down in?” “No. We’ll have to make do, somehow.” He didn’t seem concerned. Spoken like a man who’d lived his life in the sky. Depending on where they landed, they could be in a safe-enough neighborhood, where people left each other alone. Or, they could drop down into a cesspit, where people did anything to stay alive. Not that she knew any of this from personal experience, but her creator, Bovine, had loved to talk with her, tell her stories of the world outside, and shown her when he took her out of the compound. “Stay right behind me. When we get down, we don’t know what we’ll face.” She could take down any of her Mother instructors, but she’d never been in a real fight because they’d never put her in the field. But still, she could get down this makeshift rope and take care of herself. “Here we go.” She swung her other leg over, grabbed the hair, and though she hadn’t been scared, found a slight panic in pushing her butt off the ledge and into thin air. Langley patted at her back and along the window. His hands, though he seemed to be orienting himself, settled her nerves. Before she knew it, a laugh burbled through her. “You might need to push me.” “You’ll do fine.” His deep voice burrowed into her, made her trust his assurances. She nodded. “I’ll do fine.” With a grunt, she heaved herself off the ledge and into the air. Her hands caught and she swung, arms burning, until she wrapped a leg around the makeshift rope. Above, Langley had taken her position on the ledge. She yelled over the roar of the wind. “Move that uppity-ass.” Grinning like a boy on an adventure, he pushed off the ledge, facing out instead of toward the rope. Her breath caught and her stomach lurched high. Heart thumping madly, she nearly screamed, afraid he’d fall. Time seemed to slow as he twisted around, his hand on the golden braid. She’d been scared to go herself, but seeing him jump terrified her through and through. The rope jerked hard and she clung to it as Langley wrapped a leg around and hung there. After a few moments catching her breath and cursing his name to herself, she started the slow and careful descent, using all the techniques taught her at Mother’s agent academy. She’d done this in a training center under controlled circumstances, not in the middle of the air with the wind catching at her. They made steady progress, Langley coming too close a few times. “Take your time, hot stuff.” He chuckled. Even hanging in midair, a small slip from complete disaster, his eyes bandaged, he seemed free. Lighthearted. It felt damn good to get out of her room. The sounds of traffic and crowds cut through the wind and grew louder and louder as they closed in on the ground. People down there wouldn’t see them. Landers—even Mother agents—never looked up. Except her. Her face had always sought to follow the sun, even through the ever present smog. A hovercar rocked past them, sending the rope spinning in the backdraft. She slammed her eyes shut and screamed. “Hold tight!” Langley cursed hotshot drivers and their mamans. She clung for all she was worth until the rope stopped swerving. Above, the steadying voice of Langley called to her, “Ready?” “Let’s get off this thing.” She popped her eyes back open and inched down. The
hovercar had flown above regulation height. It hadn’t occurred to her until now, they’d have to descend through traffic. Below, a skyscraper came toward them slowly as the island’s path swung them toward it. She gauged their speed. They’d make it. “There. We’ll land on that roof. Before a hovercar smashes into us.” “Just tell me when to let go.” He didn’t question her, though he couldn’t see the building or the lay of the land. She got as low on the rope as she could, the roof line coming at them, faster than she was ready for. Her heart sped up again and the fatigue set in. She couldn’t hold on even one more second. Her arms burned. The gray surface of the roof appeared under her feet. She let go and shouted at Langley, “Now.” She hit hard and rolled, tucking her shoulder and trying to avoid breaking a leg. The world spun around her before her feet slammed into the side wall. She opened her eyes to face the clear, blue sky. Gothel Island hovered above. The metallic circular platform with red engine lights cast a shadow on the skyscraper. Rising above the engine deck, a large mansion sprawled with towers on each corner. From one, the length of her hair dangled from a window. The silken braid sailed away into the distance. Gold twinkled off the fibers before it disappeared into a cloud. A groan beside her reminded her that her knee throbbed. “Langley.” “Here.” He sounded winded. She tilted her head. Sprawled the same as she, he lay a few feet away and faced the sky he couldn’t see. He didn’t move, but he sounded fine when he added, “We’ll have to stay here until dark. I can’t help you like this, and by then, I can remove these bandages, and Bennet would have retrieved your braid.” “Alright.” Though, really, she could care less about the braid as long as Madame Gothel didn’t get it. “Let me catch my breath and then I’ll see where we are.” “Oh, no. Zel, I didn’t think.” He sat up quickly, reaching out around him, his face contorted. “Are you all right? I didn’t think of a hard landing like this. You make me lose all sense and I didn’t think. Tell me you’re okay.” She knelt beside him and he brushed against her stomach, palming her with his warm hand before he pulled her onto his lap and crushed her to him. She didn’t let his concern matter. He’d be gone soon. She sighed away the longing. “I’m fine. Really.” Not understanding his panic, she didn’t call him on it while she snuggled against his chest and listened as his heart calmed from a thundering pounding to a calm rhythm. The entire time, he hugged her, placing kisses on her head, and stroking her back. By the time he loosened his arms, the ridge of his erection pressed against her ass and her middle was warm, yearning. She couldn’t touch him again. Just couldn’t. He’d leave now, and if she didn’t close her heart, it’d rip to shreds. When she pulled back, he spoke gruffly, “Find us cover. Where no one can find us while we wait.” “Don’t try to move.” She struggled off his lap, his warmth catching at her, and cased the upper surface of the scraper. It was a large roof, even for a skyscraper. The flat, insulated tiles at her feet warmed in the sun. A half dozen small structures lined down the middle, equal distances apart.
She peered into the window of the first. These were the emergency outlets from stairwells. It’d be deserted. Buildings had stairs for code, but there hadn’t been a fire, collapse, or bio-hazard incident in her memory. The ultra efficient hazmat systems took care of every alarm before things got out of control. They’d be safe in one of these. She helped Langley to his feet and guided him to the closest door. “This is the top of the emergency stairs. Nobody will see us here. Nobody comes up here.” “I don’t understand why landers don’t climb up, to enjoy the sky.” She understood. Landers kept their eyes to the ground, never dreaming to live in the clouds. Up there for twelve weeks, she hadn’t seen the attraction. She couldn’t wait to get her hands back into the warm soil of her garden. Once she’d helped him to the landing, Langley sat on the top stair. Hand on the door, she lifted her face to the sun and smiled. Free. She closed the door and the small room dimmed. Not trusting herself, she squeezed past Langley to climb down the first half flight to sit on the next landing. Dust covered the stairs and gritted as she sat. “We have a few hours to wait.” Langley shifted his position on the top landing. “Why aren’t you next to me?” “Now you’ve gotten me out of there, you have no obligation. I know you felt guilt over Madame Gothel keeping me prisoner. You can go home with a free conscience.” She shut her mouth before she babbled. “Is that what you think? I had sex with you because I felt guilty?” He puffed out an angry breath. “I wanted you. I still want you. Don’t keep yourself from me.” Damn her weak self. His heated response shot through her straight to tingle in between her legs. It wouldn’t hurt to say goodbye, to just once, have him inside her on the ground, if high at the top of a skyscraper was the ground. She crawled up the stairs on her hands and knees, breathing heavily, the stale air dissipating as she drew near his hot, clean scent. Langley tilted his head, his frown softening as his chest rose and fell in the same rapid excitement as her own. “Come here,” he growled. His deep voice stroked over her and settled inside, to slick her panties and make her mouth water. She stopped a few steps below where her head was level with his crotch. Giving her own command, she held her breath to see if he’d comply. He’d always been so dominant in their encounters before. “Spread your legs.” For a second, he frowned again before he spread his legs and gripped the handrails until his knuckles turned white. The dust from the stairs coated his pressed slacks. The bulge at his crotch destroyed the lines of his plaits. He’d never looked so disheveled or so delicious. She nudged his stomach and he leaned back, his rough breathing filling her ears. She unbuttoned him and slowly edged down his zipper. His cock, long, hard, and utterly familiar, fell into her open hand. She stroked up and down with the amount of pressure he liked. He groaned and his hips rocked up. “Shhhh.” She kissed the tip of him and whispered against the hot skin of his head. “Don’t move.” She licked him. He made a strangled sound but didn’t move as she engulfed him entirely. Showing no mercy, she sucked hard, wrapped her hand around his base, and
shoved the rest of his erection to the back of her throat. The sounds of her mouth moving on him excited her. The rush of giving him orders thrilled her, made her hungry. She wiggled her ass in the air as she knelt on the stairs. His hands ran along her naked scalp, cupping her cheeks, holding the back of her neck. “I can’t see you at all. I want to see you,” he whispered. In her room, she’d done this to him. He’d tangle his fingers in her hair and watch, avidly, his cheeks tinted red until he’d curse, twist her body around, move her legs to straddle his face, and shove his tongue inside her. She groaned around his cock. “Stop, Zel. I’m going to come. I need to be inside you.” She pulled back with one last stroke of her tongue. “You were inside me.” But she wanted the same thing. She stripped off her sweats, shucked off bra and panties, and was thankful he couldn’t see her so bare, without a strand of hair to flow down over her breasts. She climbed the stairs, straddled his waist, and sank onto him in a greedy rush. At no time in her life had she ever felt so naked, yet connected, and in control. Filled. He held her against him tightly. They didn’t move, just enjoyed the sensation of their joining. Something between them was different. It hummed through her body, but she couldn’t figure it out, couldn’t stop the inevitable need to slide up and down his length. He tilted her chin up and dipped forward. He missed her lips, kissing the side of her face, but he licked his way into her mouth. She whimpered and started to move on him. Rocking her hips slowly at first while the fabric of his slacks rubbed her backside. With a wicked skill she tried not to think about how he’d acquired, he moved his hands to make her crazy. He cupped and molded her breasts, stroking in circles, tighter and tighter until he teased her nipples. She shuddered and came up on her knees to get closer and take him in further. The hard stairs bit into her skin but she didn’t care. His guttural moan punctuated a pinch to her nipples. “Oh, yeah. That’s it,” she chanted, giving him encouragement, turning the tables and being the one giving the praise instead of the other way around. She rocked hard, grinding down on him, making him fill her more, going deeper. She needed him completely. Inside her far enough to warm the cold places. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” He licked her throat. His breathing came in pants as he loosened his hold and moved his mouth down to engulf a nipple. His fingers reached between them to press on her clit. Every movement gentle and reverent, his entire being focused on her, he seemed to know only her. Nothing else existed but them. “That’s it.” She bit her lip to keep from screaming. She needed this. She needed him so much it scared her as much as excited her. Unable to keep from tumbling over the edge, she pressed down and met her climax with a full body arch. He surged up into her, his hands tight on her hips as he came with a growl in his throat and one word on his tongue. “Zel.” The way he said her name broke her heart. She wanted this. Every day. But it was impossible. Long moments passed. They hadn’t moved, but held each other. She couldn’t believe he wanted to hold onto her like she did him. This must have been his goodbye. Her eyes stung and her legs protested her crouched position. She eased off him and
found her clothes littering the stairs. “Don’t stay so far away.” Langley patted the stairs next to him. He had a trail of dust on his cheek. His hair was ruffled. His shirt wrinkled, his slacks bunched around him. Though they’d both reached their peak, he was tempting, a sexual allure encouraging her to straddle him again. It was impossible to resist his nearness. Not while he was here. Dressed, she sat next to him. He put his arm around her waist and hugged her tight. “Tell me more about your life at Mother,” he cajoled before he yawned. Nuzzling into his chest, she yawned. She swatted him. “Don’t do that. It’s contagious” He chuckled. “I’ve already told you about Mother.” “I know. Just. Tell me again.” “A researcher made me. Gave me to Mother. He visited with me once a week and took me outside the compound. He used to run occasional experiments on me. It’s not as if he were an actual father. My handlers made sure to let me know he didn’t donate genetic material but combined me from at least twenty samples from various segments of the population. I’m a mutt.” She swiped at her burning nose. She didn’t want to talk about this. “The sun has gone down.” “And they tutored you at the academy but didn’t want to put you at risk by letting you be an agent.” He stroked her back and leaned his head on top of hers. The small movement warmed her. “What will you do when you go back?” Not really for risk to her—though that was part of it—but she’d not been an agent because she wasn’t human. And her hair was too noticeable, too valuable. Her entire life they’d told her its worth, but never what they planned to do with it. She’d doubted there was a plan. Lately, she’d begun to be a bit suspicious of Bovine’s handling of her and her hair, but he’d always been like a father to her, and she couldn’t think he’d do something to hurt her. “I’ve been working in the botanical department. Monsieur Bovine will take me back like nothing ever happened.” “And you’re sure this Bovine guy means nothing to you?” He sounded jealous. He always had when she brought up her mentor, Mother’s equipment chief, and she’d never been able to resist teasing him. Purely for a spiteful poke at Langley for not freeing her, she’d never told him Bovine was her creator, father-like, though she repeatedly told herself not to care for Bovine as if he were. She laughed. “He does mean something to me. I love him.” He gently extricated himself and left her alone, cold on the concrete risers while he climbed the steps to the door. With an impatient tug, he ripped at the bandages on his face. She snapped at his foolishness. “Stop. I’ll help you. Don’t hurt yourself.” But he’d already pulled most of it off. The bandages floated down the stairs. He turned his head toward her, his eyes bright, angry, hurt. Strangely, he looked exactly the same, sans glasses. She’d expected…something. Something else. Something to make him look different, like her. A strange sinking sensation ripped through some hope she’d had; if he looked like a mod, he’d stay with her. But her fool legs still went to him, desperate to stay near for as long as possible. But he looked perfect, except for the snarl he directed her way. “What will your
lover think when he learns you’re carrying my child?” She swayed on the stairs, black spots dancing in her vision. He gripped her and crushed her to him. For a moment, she reveled in his strength, the hard chest, the firm legs pressed against hers, but then the truth flooded her. Never doubting what he said was true, she accepted she was pregnant. There was only one way she could be that way. They’d monkeyed with her insides. Her womb. Her heart. He’d never wanted her. She shouldn’t have ever let herself fall for him. All she’d ever been was a creation, alone, and Gothel used her like an experiment. A choked sob ripped from her throat. Tearing herself out of his arms, she pushed through the door of the stairs and ran out onto the roof, a blur as tears clouded her vision. Being prisoner in a tower was nothing to this pain. She’d fallen into a trap of her own making. She had to get away. Now. Before he could catch up to her, she darted into the next emergency hatch, slammed the door, and clamored down the stairs. What had they done to her?
Chapter Four Langley’s eyes hurt and a dull pounding headache throbbed through his head and down his spine. He hadn’t meant to lash out. He’d planned on getting them off Gothel Island and taking Zel home. Then he’d sit down with her and explain. The news had shocked him, but now, more than anything, he wanted his family together. He wanted this baby. He wanted Zel. But Zel would see this as a betrayal. One more bio-researcher reached into her life and toyed with the fabric of her being. He’d hoped beyond hope she wouldn’t blame him. The hate on her face when she’d run was clear, even without his glasses. He damned his new eyes. The better than perfect vision had shown plainly how she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. The door stood open in the night he could see through quite clearly, thanks to his new status as a mod. She was nowhere. Long moments had passed while he stood frozen in place. She’d probably already gotten to the street and flagged down a hovercab. She’d go to the Mother compound, back home, and he’d never see her again. He wouldn’t be able to get a message to her, much less get access to the grounds, or her. A floating island silently slid through clouds above, the red lights of its engine winking. He couldn’t go back up there, and he’d risked his position with NOMBIO. He stood, unmoving, reliving the memories, hating himself for speaking rashly, until the sun came up. By the time he trudged down the stairs, he was sure he’d ever be happy again. He’d claimed that emotion for only a short time in his life, when he’d been with Zel. Nothing had ever compared to her. The rest of his life would be empty, denied the right to know his child. He drifted through the lobby, ignoring the stares of landers when he stepped through the emergency doorway. Out in front of the building, he waited for a hovercab. The only place to go was where he’d sent Bennet, Mason Heights, a small retirement section where Islanders sent revered servants when they left employ. It was near the capitol quadrant, where GOoSE’s governmental offices headquartered and the Mother compound sprawled for miles. He tried not to think of how close to Zel he’d be as he sat in the craft watching the city zip by. It took hours. New Castle was the size of a quarter of the hemisphere. They’d come to ground quite far away. During the ride he had time to think, not really seeing the miles and miles of buildings—no green space—and mobs of people who scraped by and had only moving sidewalks for transport and hovercraft, for the servicing of the floating islands and the few middle class who could afford them. By the time he stepped down at Bennet’s address, he had a plan. Well, not so much a plan, as a way to get to Zel and plead his case. If she’d hear him out. Ignoring the pounding in his head, he checked out the neighborhood he’d bought into for Bennet. The lines of condos stretched down the street as far as he could see. Hovercraft buzzed over the three-story row in smog filled skies. A rare costly treat, small patches of green, most planted with bamboo, sat to the side of each doorway. Bennet’s little garden was barren since he’d just arrived yesterday. Langley announced himself in the intercom next to the solid metal entryway.
Bennet opened the door, peered at him, and admonished. “Have you taken your pills, sir?” The shorter man wore soft slacks and a pullover, while his hair was a soft mass of uncombed gray. Yesterday he’d dressed with a certain amount of polish, slick, in an impeccable suit while today he looked kinder, relaxed. Langley stepped inside and immediately warmed. “You’re going to be a grandfather. And you have to help me win the child’s maman back.” Bennet’s eyebrows rose to his hairline and his mouth dropped open. Surely the man knew he was the only father he’d ever had. Like the efficient valet, he recovered himself with due speed and within moments, had Langley sitting on a couch, hot tea in hand, and medicines taken. His headache receded to a dull throb, Langley told him everything. “And I’ll need a place to stay for a while because I’m not going back up there.” “What can I do?” Bennet sipped his steaming tea. “I don’t know. I thought you’d have some ideas.” Langley put his empty tea cup on a side table. Whoever had furnished the condo had made it pleasing and homey. Nothing like Gothel Island. “I know how to get her in the same room with me, but I don’t know what to say.” Bennet looked at him with the stern expression that never failed to get results. “Don’t you, sir? You’ve never not known what to do. Even as a pesky junior leaguer, getting into your mère’s botanical trials. You knew what to do when NOMBIO approached you and gave you secret data codes for transferring evidence against Gothel Island. You knew how to get them small bits of information to help, even though you hadn’t had time to crack into the truly illegal experiments. You knew it would take time. You knew the sacrifices. You knew you couldn’t set Zel free or it’d ruin your mission. Now it’s all changed, but you know what to do.” He supposed he did know, and it scared the hell out of him. Even if he could have Zel, she couldn’t accept him when his family had betrayed her so. Still, the only thing to do was make things right for her and others like her. The dull shine of Bennet’s hand around his tea cup sent a rush of understanding through Langley. For years, he’d loved Bennet. Not once had he cared the man was a mod. As a child, an Islander replaced Bennet’s arms to make him a more powerful laborer but when Langley had seen him in the kitchens and discovered a mutual interest in reading a series of fantasy novels, they’d struck up a rare friendship. Even rarer, Mère complied with Langley’s wishes and hired Bennet, his elder by at least a decade, as valet. Had Langley ever really thought mods and bio-creations were inherently wrong? In the stillness, Bennet sat patiently until Langley cleared his head of the quagmire. Though he wanted to tell Bennet he thought of him as an equal, saying so wouldn’t matter. Bennet had always understood him. “Time to…” Bennet never finished. A knock on the door brought them both to their feet. Out of habit, Langley waited for Bennet to move toward the front entry. “Who?” At the same time, Bennet rushed out an answer, “NOMBIO approached me not an hour after I arrived. I think they’re watching the place.” “They have no right,” Langley growled. A man barged in before Bennet could step back. Dressed in an ill-conceived disguise of a concession stand worker’s tunic, an agent
Langley had dealt with before strolled through. Nothing hid his superior strength and wealth. The trendy cut of Keith Harwich’s dark hair, the clean fingernails of the hand he extended, and the bit of a tan that only came with spending time on the Islands portrayed the typical man who dealt in the power plays between the megacorps, GOoSE, and other groups with money. Langley greeted the straight forward and passionate NOMBIO enthusiast. “Harwich.” “Monsieur Gothel. I’m here to invite you to NOMBIO headquarters to discuss your next move.” He shook with a firm hand and quirked a look up at Langley before striding toward the main living area. “I assume you’ve brought what we need to stop Gothel Island from the insidious practice of researching with the biologically tainted.” Battling back a strong urge to land a facer into the smug little man’s complacent expression for calling Zel—and for that matter, Bennet—tainted, he reminded the man in a chilled tone, “This is my friend Bennet’s residence. If he is amenable, we might take a moment and discuss what I have.” “My apologies.” Harwich sent a reproachful look at Bennet’s mod arms and then sat stiffly across from where Langley forced his knees to bend and take a seat. After explaining his escape, Langley realized Harwich had no idea of Langley’s mods. “I must warn you. To find my way down to the ground, I had to accept my mère’s plans to modify me. That’s why I no longer wear my glasses.” A short and fleeting look of disgust crossed Harwich’s face before he blanked himself. His curious perusal caught Langley from head to toe and left him sweating with an unusual nervousness. Harwich nodded slowly. “It’s not apparent. We’ll hide it as long as possible. If need be, place a few bribes. If it’d been obvious, we’d have to part with you, but we can make this work. Your position with us is too valuable.” Langley’s stomach flipped in a queasy, sluggish thud. Even NOMBIO could be bought. “Mère used an innocent to force me into it.” He spoke through curiously numb lips. The words seemed like not only a rationalization, but a weakness, as if he had to defend himself in some way, explain away the affair he’d had, not that Harwich knew of the affair, or ever would. “We can use it. Must have been a female. A bio-creation, I presume. Is it alive, for us to verify the abuse of the poor biological creation?” Langley snorted. “She’s not so helpless.” “She?” Harwich raised a brow. “Gothel Island experimented on a human?” Clearing his throat, ready to explain, Langley opened his mouth but nothing came out. Bennet put a tray with a tea cup and carafe on the table in the middle of this strange tableau and spoke in an oddly soothing tone. “The poor creature won’t be a part of this.” “Ah.” A sad quietness came over Harwich, who bent his head as if in prayer. Langley didn’t correct the obvious assumption the man had made that whatever had happened, this “creature” being discussed had died. The moment passed and Harwich leaned forward eagerly. “Let’s talk of your evidence.” “Let me get this straight, you want to continue my mission, though I’ve had a modification?” This stunning revelation bothered him. Somehow, he wanted to leave NOMBIO. But that couldn’t be.
He had a duty. He couldn’t do it if NOMBIO didn’t help him. “If you’d volunteered for it, or, like the last member we renounced, took in biocreations as if they were human family, then we’d know you didn’t uphold our ideals.” Harwich gave a smug smile. “But you are one of us. Enough of that. What do we have? Can we force Madame Gothel out and put you in charge of Gothel Island?” “I have records of a few small experiments, but I didn’t have time to crack the code into the files to prove she’s breaking The Living Rights Oath.” “When do you go back?” A serious expression tightening his mouth, Harwich leaned forearms on his knees. “Go back.” Langley surged up and paced away. He needed a haircut. Pushing the sweaty strands of hair clinging to his forehead and falling into his eyes, he paced. Perhaps he’d been wrong. His duty was so much more than he’d thought. In a position of power, he could safeguard Zel and others like her. He couldn’t do that here on the ground, with no resources except for NOMBIO. Harwich stared at him with an expectant expression when Langley whirled around and admitted, “I do have to go back. There’s no other way. I need to convince Mère to let me work with her. Somehow.” “She will.” Harwich said his goodbyes and left with the parting salvo, “You have to stop her. Madame Gothel has placed an order for the delivery of a dozen pre-teen males next month. Get the proof. Before Cupboard Labs fills the order.” Silence filled the condo. Mère must stop. He was the only person to make sure she did. GOoSE wouldn’t tear down the most popular bio-researcher of all time. Mother would never get an agent in. Time had run out for those dozen pre-teens. He had to go back. Soon. His chest ached. He had to see Zel one last time. Just one more time before he never saw her again. He’d never know his child, and he dare not acknowledge the pang that shot through him at those thoughts. “I have to go.” Bennet didn’t stop him, but his “yes, sir” bolstered Langley in a way no words from Mère ever had. Outside, he stood at the corner curb and flicked on the strobe pole to call a hovercab. His mind whirled, going over the impossibilities as murky shadows of passing Islands flickered across the ground. Sometime later, he climbed aboard a hovercab. The credits went through, and he exhaled a huff. So far Mère hadn’t found him missing and canceled his accounts. He’d return by tonight and convince her he had nothing to do with Zel’s escape. He must convince Mère. When the craft sat down in the circular path outside Mother, it barely paused long enough for him to climb out before it zipped away, nearly taking his shiny dress shoes with it. Long walls, at least twenty feet high, stretched to both sides for as far as he could see. Above the fence, the shimmering waves of a security net rose into the sky. No hovercars could skip over the walls and into the compound beyond. In front of him, as if built in the side of a stone mountain, a massive building with wide columns and large metal double doors thrice his height gave a forbidding welcome. At the entry, a large screening area was mostly vacant. They had him walk through an arch scanner to search for metal, unusual botanical signatures, and illegal DNA mods.
There weren’t many illegal mods, but GOoSE drew the line at some things—like extra appendages and the blue skin created to heighten the feel of touch. On the other side of the room, a long line of pedestals with tablets interspersed with chairs and couches gave visitors an area to sign in for appointments. No appointment awaited him. There were no receptionists to plead his case, to find an official who’d somehow make Zel talk to him. His plan stumbled before he’d even seen her. He fisted his hands and walked to one of the consoles. A greeting screen instructed him to locate the person he’d visit or to punch in an access code. The listing of employees was brief, maybe a dozen public-facing officials. Too short a list. Obviously this wasn’t a full accounting of Mother employees, and Zel wasn’t on it. Staring without seeing, he stood there. He’d done this all wrong. He didn’t know how to get through the doors at the end of the room and into the compound. Even if he did, he didn’t know where she lived. He didn’t know how to find her. He’d never see her again and he wanted more than anything to explain. To say goodbye. It had to be goodbye. If he failed NOMBIO, then he failed at stopping Mère’s heinous research. He slapped the surface of the tablet. There was no point standing here with the security guards eyeing him. As he turned, a name blared up at him from the list. Bovine. Firming his jaw—and his resolve—he jabbed his finger at the name. After a few moments, the console lit with a connection screen and a man spoke from the tinny speakers. “State your name and business.” Already he hated the man. Bovine had a claim on Zel he’d never have. Gripping the console he leaned in. “This is Langley Gothel from Gothel Island. I have something you want.” He had Zel’s braid. And this man had something Langley wanted. His gut burned. “Don’t move.” The connection dropped and the welcome screen returned. Before he could blink, a grip on his arm spun him around. A guard in a blue uniform, black shades, and a cut so short his hair resembled stubble, gripped his elbow. “You are being detained. Cooperate fully and you will be unharmed.” “What the hell?” Langley yanked his arm away. “Get your hand off me.” Three other guards surrounded him. They grabbed at him, blocking his escape, while one managed to get shackles on his left wrist before Langley realized what was happening. The reception area was gone, replaced by broad uniformed chests come to arrest him. The rage, the fruitless yearning, the inescapable truth he had to let Zel go surged through his body in an anger so fierce he flung out with frustration. He struggled, and their restraining holds grew brutal. Thrusting an elbow back, he was rewarded with a huff and pained grunt. He kicked out, striking another guard in the knee. The man buckled. Almost free. He spun but couldn’t rip away as a fist sank into his gut. His breath left in a whoosh. Flailing out, he threw his elbow and fists, connecting with a chin, a stomach, a thick arm. A hard knock rocked into the side of his face. Pain sparkled in his vision and a loud
buzzing filled his head. Blackness claimed him. Light splintered his closed eyes. His body crumpled. Before he hit the floor, cuffs bound his hands, but he couldn’t see to get away. He shook his head and the world lurched. He bit back nausea and spat out, “Uncover my eyes.” Silence answered and everything seemed to stop moving. “There’s nothing over your eyes, buster. Let’s go. You’re under arrest for kidnapping Rapunzel Denmark.”
Chapter Five Langley stopped fighting. The blow to the head had done something. He couldn’t chance another knock. They didn’t take him far. There must’ve been detaining rooms in the security area. Rough hands shoved him into a cold hard chair with his hands secured in front of him on his lap. The scuffle of boots marched out the door, and one of the guards spoke, probably into a communication device. “We have him, sir. His eyes…” And the door shut. Yes, his eyes. Whether or not he’d regain vision he had no idea, and it scared him. Shivering, he sat for long minutes. Either it was cold in here, or that knock to the head had done some serious damage. NOMBIO might be pleased if the mod failed, and he had it removed, to be human again, sans eyes. But Zel wouldn’t want him this way. As a created, perfect woman, she couldn’t want a flawed human such as himself. “You can’t see a thing, can you?” A guard scoffed in his ear. Langley jerked away, nearly toppling out of the slick chair. He’d thought he was alone, not with someone watching him in a moment of weakness. Straightening, he willed the useless moping away. “I’m looking for Bovine.” Langley resisted the urge to straighten his shirt. He’d spent the night, not sleeping, in a stairwell in these clothes. “He’ll be here.” In the long moments waiting, he kept his chin up and refused to shiver though the cold had an all-encompassing grip on him. The door opened, loud in the quiet room. A large, calloused hand gripped his face with a painful pinch and turned him side to side. Handcuffed, blind, the room spinning, he sat there and allowed this stranger to manhandle him. Served him right for letting Mère take his eyes and what they’d both done to Zel. “Hold still,” commanded the newcomer. “Don’t twitch, talk, or think loudly.” Langley froze while the pounding in his head ratcheted up to deafening levels. A puff of heat blew across his face and a click sounded near his ear. “Your optical nerve is still intact. Here, this should help.” A buzzing filled his head and abruptly stopped. “Try to avoid a hard blow to your head, for at least a few months, or your optic nerve might reject the implants. Not that I care if a kidnapper ever sees again. You’re lucky I could interpret the code and fix you.” “You did something to me?” Helpless, cold, and stuck in this place, he understood exactly what Zel had gone through. His body was not under his control now and might never be again. “I reduced swelling and rebooted those eyes of yours. Interesting tech you have there.” A sharp suspicion lay beneath the statement, but Langley didn’t care about Mère’s bio-tech at the moment. He wanted to see Zel and explain. “Do you see any light?” The question didn’t come in a friendly manner, rather more begrudging than he’d expect from a doctor. “A little.” The relief of the unrelenting darkness abating loosened his fists pressed against the cuffs. “We’ll give it a few moments.” Then the man was gone and Langley waited, again. All he could think of was how a future with Zel might’ve been. Would their son have the same calming presence she had? Or the ability to see the good in him? Better than
anything he’d give their son, Zel had independence, and intelligence, and an inherent grace that stunned him when she sparred. Shutting out that mental path, he made himself stop thinking of the impossible and plan some way to get out of this mess. When he could, he’d memorize this room, find a weakness, and get out of here. Gradually, his vision started to return, but bleary, and his head throbbed. The room was bare except for a small table and two chairs. Maybe he could break the chair over the guards’ heads and escape. The door clicked behind him and a large man, barely in focus, leaned over him. “Gothel. Looks like the treatment worked. Madame Gothel’s tech is different, but I hacked it.” An older man with fine lines fanning from his eyes frowned. “I’m Bovine.” The man Zel loved had fixed Langley’s eyes. He wanted to claw them out of his head. “I need to see Zel,” Langley blurted. He was jealous of a man old enough to be Zel’s father. The man was a scoundrel, having a fling with a woman so young. Even with his hands in cuffs, he had an insurmountable urge to strangle him. “Where’s Zel?” Bovine pulled him out of his chair with a harsh hold on his arm. “You mean Rapunzel.” The man dared give him a disapproving look. Bastard. Langley swallowed the expletives he wanted to hurl. “Yes. Do you know where she is?” “Of course I do. She’s my daughter.” Langley’s face went hot with anger and he made to lunge at the man. “Impossible.” A guard at the door drew a mechgun and leveled it straight at Langley’s head. He throttled back his rage and tried to think. Everything had been coming at him fast as a hovercar at full throttle since Zel had cut her hair. Bovine commanded. “Put the gun away. Let’s go, Gothel. We’ll discuss Rapunzel and what you’ve done in my office. Then, you’ll spend the rest of your life in rehabilitation.” Needing to understand, he let Bovine push him toward the door. Though things were still wavery, he made out several feet in front of him, including the stubble-headed guard who scowled but didn’t move to follow them out of the holding room. They traversed long halls filled with people of all manner. All wearing badges. Tall, short, skinny, average, in plain clothes, suits, or rags, they all had the same serious expressions. Bovine led him through the large, marble floored mausoleum and entered a courtyard behind. They took moving sidewalks along the edge of the property and passed exercise yards, tall scrapers, and a residential quad that made his heart beat faster. Zel could live in one of those apartments rising to the sky. The glass glittered, bringing the dull ache back to his eyes. The surgery had been compromised. He could only hope not permanently. Bovine led him to the back of a warehouse fronting the security gates onto the unseen streets of New Castle. They walked more wide corridors filled with people, except these looked even more serious, haughty with a hint of anger to their movements. They entered a large equipment room. Weapons—mechguns, shining katanas, and odds and ends—lined the walls. Bovine removed the handcuffs. “Sit. Rapunzel asked me not to kill you. Promised you weren’t the one to hurt her. That’s the only reason you’re not locked away already.
I’ll hear you out, and if you corroborate what she’s already told me, you’ll be free to go.” Confusion had kept him off-kilter, but when the door shut and Bovine pulled out a chair, Langley sank into it, rubbed his wrists where they’d chafed with the cuffs, and stared at his wrinkled slacks. Zel had asked he not be hurt but didn’t want to see him. The only way Bovine would listen to her plea was if he did love her. “How can you be her father? She’s a creation.” “Did you not think a child could be made outside a womb? That she could have a father?” “She told me she was created from different people. Like all bio-creations.” Langley kept his aching head motionless as guilt wormed into him. He crossed his legs and ignored the clouds floating in his vision. “I wanted a daughter.” Bovine leaned back. “A child of my own. I’ve helped raise so many of Mother’s agents, but they wouldn’t allow me to marry.” A shadow passed over Bovine’s face. The ingrained Gothel in Langley wouldn’t allow him to ask why Bovine couldn’t marry, but the man explained further and the moment to ask was gone. “An agent…” He cleared his throat and stared at the top of his desk. “An agent died on mission. She’d donated her organs and DNA to Mother.” Bovine stopped for long minutes. Langley couldn’t move. A deep weight pressed down on his chest to imprison him here, waiting. The lights above flickered as Bovine drew out a handkerchief and wiped his face. “I combined my DNA with hers, made a few modifications to hide my purpose. The project I supposedly created the child for, I declared a failure. But she. She was not. She’s been the light of my life, even if I can’t publicly claim her.” “Does she know?” Langley’s world wasn’t what he’d thought. He blinked and the man in front of him looked like what he’d be in a few years, without Zel. Lost. “Rapunzel knows I love her. She knows I’m her father. Yes. She also knows I’d go after anyone who hurt her. Including you.” Bovine’s face darkened to a severe frown. “She told me. About the baby.” “Can I see her?” Langley humbled himself with the entreaty. Bovine blinked and visibly lowered a wall over his emotions before he answered. “Are you worthy of her, son?” The man’s shrewdness sharpened his mouth and highlighted the danger of this Mother operative. “She came to me last night. Heartbroken. As soon as I got her calmed, I researched you. I know everything. How you were a spoiled brat raised on the Islands. How you went to college and fell into the trendy antibio movement. All while taking allowance from momma.” That about summed him up. The shame wouldn’t come, though. “I’m more than that.” “You have to be. If Rapunzel loves you.” If. “Can I see her?” “What is it you said you have, that I’d want?” Bovine glared at him. The shoulders previously slumped, squared. The bulge of his massive arms flexed with muscle. “Think. What you say here could get your uppity-ass in a prison cell.” Uppity-ass. He smiled. “That’s where Zel gets it.” Bovine tilted his head in question. “Never mind.” Langley reached in his pocket and pulled out the braided silk of Zel’s
hair. “This is just one strand, folded over and braided. It’s incredible. I thought you might want it back, for research. My valet has the rest.” The braid he’d intended for collateral tickled against his skin, and he couldn’t put it into Bovine’s outstretched hand. He stared at the golden braid, heavy in his fingers and replayed moments when he’d had his hands in her hair, in passion, or when gently talking with each other. He slipped it back into his pocket. “I’ll have the rest sent to you.” Bovine pushed away from his desk and nodded. “Follow me.” Doubt glued him to the chair as he sucked in air before he stumbled up and made his legs function. “The absolute only reason I’m not having you arrested is Rapunzel said you had nothing to do with her kidnapping. If I find otherwise, you’ll regret the day you were born. But, I find I trust Rapunzel’s instincts, and you look harmless enough.” Bovine took another moving walk toward the center of the compound. “She told you the truth.” Langley concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and ignored the ‘harmless’ remark. “I live back there.” Bovine pointed his thumb back over his shoulder to the equipment warehouse. “When Rapunzel was around twelve, when Mother started making noises about moving her from regular training and giving her assignments, I moved us into a condo and made sure Mother had doubts about putting her in the field. What father wants his daughter plunging into danger? She wanted to be an agent, but I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her. Some days I regret the decision and my support of the no bios as agents policy. Some days, I’d do anything to protect her. I can’t lose her.” Bovine shook his head and kept walking without looking back at Langley. “When she came of age, I left the condo to her and came back out here. Every young woman needs her own space when she grows into the woman she’ll be for the rest of her life.” “She grew up in a warehouse?” Langley couldn’t imagine that kind of intriguing space as a child. He’d never left the mansion until Mère took an interest in his studies in his pre-teens. Even then, she only took him among landers to show him her research. “She didn’t want to leave it for the condo. Then when I was ready to come back, she didn’t want to leave the condo for the warehouse. I wasn’t around much, so I tried to give her what I could, when I could.” They stopped in front of a free-standing condo. It had to be worth a fortune. A garden plot with a riot of flowers and herbs graced both sides of the front entry. At least ten steps wide and twenty deep, the green space was an unheard of amount for an individual house. And for the house to be freestanding. Nothing to the side. No high-rise. No hovercar access in the air above. Bovine slapped Langley on the back. His head thudded once then settled back to a dull throb. Bovine boasted, “You should see the back garden. It’s triple this size, and she has spread her talent there, too. Lovely garden. She’s made a few important discoveries in crosspollination. Made me proud. She’s no agent. She’s a researcher, like me.” Bovine’s chest puffed out and he smiled a big, wide grin. Without a knock or announcing himself, the older man opened the front door and walked right in. The place was simple. Rather small. The downstairs was an open area with comfortable seating and a large kitchen. Stairs led up to what he assumed was personal living space. Everything about the place exuded Zel’s inner beauty, paintings of cross-sections of plants, softly woven fabrics, and warm tiled surfaces. They moved through the house. Then he saw her.
Wrapped in a blanket, Zel sat in an armchair in front of a large, wide open window staring into her backyard, a splendid view of colors, but mostly green. An abundance of life and fecundity. “Rapunzel.” Bovine put his hands on her shoulders, but she didn’t move. “I’ve spoken with the front office. They’re not pressing charges against anyone but Madame Gothel.” Bovine kissed her smooth head, squeezed her shoulders, and left. She didn’t turn to him. Langley’s throat hurt. Her chair had a twin, so he pulled it up next to hers, sat with a sigh, and reached for her hand. Her fingers were cold and slack as he intertwined his with hers. “Zel.” She jerked back against her chair and turned wide eyes to him before she blanked. All expression gone before she looked back out the window. “How did you get here?” Her question was unaccommodating, hard, but she didn’t move or pull her hand away. “Go away. I’m almost done grieving for you. I’ll be over you. Tomorrow.” “Tomorrow.” He’d be gone by then. “You can’t have the baby.” He flinched and gripped her hand. “You don’t understand. I don’t want to take the baby from you.” “Nobody’s ever wanted me. But my child won’t grow up that way. I want him. I’ll never let him forget it.” She still stared ahead, not facing him. He missed the way she used to look at him, with desire and tenderness. “Bovine wanted you. He wanted you so much he made you. He’ll want his grandson as much as I do.” He didn’t even know if Mère had wanted him, or why she’d decided to have a child. “That’s the key, isn’t it? He made me.” She looked at him then. Her expression closed, nothing of Zel anywhere behind her chilled blue eyes. “He made you like any father makes a child. With love.” That he didn’t know his own father made the statement a lie. “Or, a father worthy of the title, anyway.” “Maybe.” She cocked her head. “You didn’t think that way before.” “No.” He broke eye contact, his shame painful to bear. What she’d done in her garden was amazing to behold. He’d never seen so many vegetables and fruits, many he didn’t recognize, in one place. Even the air above her garden didn’t seem as smog laden as the rest of New Castle. Then he made himself turn back to her, to face her judgment. A small spark of need crossed her face before she became stone again. He had to make her understand. “I was wrong. Dreadfully so.” “I’m not who you need to convince.” She placed a hand on her belly. “You and I. We weren’t to be. Too much of what you believe and feel, deep down, will always be between us, and I…I’ll never feel like I should even be here. My mother. Bovine told me about her last night.” She closed her eyes and the paleness of her face sucker punched Langley, but he didn’t move to her as he craved doing. “Bovine made me for his love of her. He couldn’t let her go. It wasn’t so he could have me. I don’t belong. Anywhere. I never should have been. How can you ever believe differently of a creation who shouldn’t exist?” “Never say that.” He couldn’t take this anymore. The pain struck him bone deep and
he couldn’t breathe through the foreign thickness residing in his chest. He got on his knees in front of her and took her other hand. “You are here. With me. I want you.” “For sex.” “I’d be liar to say that wasn’t part of it. But only because it’s with you. I want you. Yourself. For what’s inside.” One last time. Nothing mattered but being with her once more. “I want to believe that,” she whispered. “Then do. Please.” Unable to keep from holding her another second, he slid the blanket aside, slipped his arms around her, and picked her up. If he could love her with his body, she’d see how he felt. She wouldn’t be able to deny it. She nestled into him, her exhale sliding silky heat on his throat, pushing him past reasoning. Putting her arms one at a time around his neck, he carried her to the stairs and up. The only open door in the short landing exposed a bedroom in soft light, a riot of floral patterns, and a bed. Too small for them to both stretch out, but larger than the pallet they’d shared for twelve weeks. “I can’t be with you,” she whispered. “I can’t turn off how I feel. Or how you feel.” “How do you feel?” She didn’t answer but tightened her arms around him. In his heart, he sensed she was saying goodbye. To her, she’d give him this last time, and they’d be over. Everything he was, he’d give her right now and she’d see into his heart as much as he could see hers written all over her body, but he couldn’t give her the rest of his life. His life belonged to his duty, to stopping people like Mère. Because once he got the evidence to stop the mistreatment of men and women on Gothel Island, knowing Zel meant he had to give her up, to continue the work to save other people like her. He slipped off his shoes and tumbled Zel to her side and onto the bed. Slowly, he peeled back the robe she wore and sucked in a breath. “Beautiful.” His finger stroked the column of her throat and down, smoothing over her silky skin to circle a tightened nipple. She gasped. He wanted to do everything at once. To be inside her. To hold and rock her, to stroke her from her feet to her smooth head. Everywhere. To soak up all she gave him and make him into something better, whole. He tongued her nipple. She tasted divine, like everything she nourished and gave life to. Herbal scents, floral, and oh-so-sweet. Her fingers twined in his hair and he hugged her to him, wrapping around until he palmed her head with one hand, her firm, lovely ass in the other, and engulfed her breast with his hungry lips. He’d smothered himself in her flesh. His cock was heavy, aching. Not since the first day they’d fallen to the aphrodisiacs had he lost control so quickly. He needed inside her more than he needed to show her his usual finesse. He yanked down his zipper, ripped off his clothes in seconds flat, and shoved inside her. He hissed and then moaned against her chest. “There’s no place I’d rather be.” “I need you.” She moved under him, rubbing her hips deliciously back and forth. He squeezed her, encouraging her movements. Her welcome heat enveloped him. “I can’t hold back.” He slid out and pumped back into her, hard, the tension in his back and buttocks made him rigid over her. If he moved, he’d explode. Go up in flames and they’d have to send the autoextinguishers to the house and scrape his ashes off the
bed. He ground his teeth to keep the fire racing up his limbs at bay. With a guttural rasp, he commanded, “Tilt your hips for me. Now.” She responded to his urgency by fitting herself to him perfectly. The way they joined was too much, it nearly made his heart beat out of his chest. Sliding his hand between them, he thumbed that spot he’d memorized and tore another moan from her. His hips pumped wildly, and she writhed beneath him as he buried his face between her breasts, licking the salt from her skin. Her arms clutched at him as her legs shook. The sign he’d waited for swept through him. Relief he’d held on, pride he’d brought her to climax, went straight to the small of his back and pushed him deep, hard, as far in as he could go as he shuddered. She clung to him and he emptied inside her. He stayed like that for long moments, loving being inside her, until he couldn’t hold himself up any longer. He rolled to the side, bringing her with him. “I need you,” he whispered in the last moments of wakefulness before the sleepless night, the draining tension, and the sweet release all pushed him toward slumber. When something nagged at him, he fought the grogginess but couldn’t make his eyes open. He reached for Zel, but she wasn’t there.
Chapter Six Zel silently fumbled in her clothing cabinet while the morning sun filtered into the room. After their glorious lovemaking, they’d both slept like the dead. The sun had risen, and she wasn’t even sure what day it was, or how long they’d been in bed. Since Langley’d told her she carried his baby, she’d been in a daze. The signs had been there, but she hadn’t put it together. She didn’t need a doctor to verify. Absolutely sure, she’d told Bovine, the one person who needed to know. In response to the news, he turned the world upside down and told her the truth: She had a father. Straightening to her full height, she took a deep breath. She had to start prenatal care and get her life back on track. A life without Langley. She carefully kept her gaze from his sleeping form, a simply beautiful, graceful, muscular man warming her bed as her sheets lovingly caressed his backside. She’d woken to him sprawled, his arm across her back. All his limbs exposed, his hair tousled, morning stubble, he made a scrumptious picture that had called to her to join him. Taste him. Everywhere. She had to get him from under her skin. First things first, she’d call Bovine—she’d never be able to call him father—but she couldn’t call him while naked. She slipped her favorite housedress on and silently left the bedroom. She couldn’t face Langley until he had his clothes on. For a moment, she stood outside the bedroom, hand on the closed door, and bit back the sorrow. Crying wouldn’t help. She had a child to consider. The man on the other side was her first, only, and last lover. As a creation, she’d never felt quite right in the world and had never been comfortable around men, except Bovine. She would miss Langley. Their sex had been incredible and she’d mourn him, but she’d lived passionless before. She would again. She put her back to the door and went downstairs. “Good morning, my child.” Bovine rose from the kitchen table and strode toward her. Startled, she calmed her racing heart, fought back the panic his unexpected presence brought, and hated the blush heating her cheeks. She ran a hand down her dress. “Morning.” He hugged her tight, and she hoped like hell she didn’t smell like sex. “You had a long night.” He chuckled and let her go. The blush spread down her chest. “Sit and have some coffee.” “How long have you been here?” Guilt riddled her nervous question. Nothing like an embarrassed daughter to let a father know exactly how she’d spent her night. The aroma of coffee settled her as he took down two cups and lifted his ever present thermos filled with specially imported, rare, and expensive blend. “Just got here. Came to take you to the lab for an exam.” “An exam?” For the first time ever, she doubted Bovine. She stepped back. Crash. Bovine jerked his head to the side, splashing coffee on the counter. Zel spun toward the sound and went cold at the sight greeting her. Holding a mechgun aimed with lethal sureness, Madame Gothel strode through Zel’s smashed front door, which showed a pair of Gothel’s guards on each side of the entry. They stayed
outside while their employer walked in. Though she wanted to throttle the woman, Zel didn’t move a muscle. She had to remember her actions weren’t just for her, but for her baby as well. “Madame Gothel.” Zel accompanied her toneless greeting with a nod and per her never-used-operative training, tilted her chin down and lowered her gaze. This was the woman who’d made such a mess of Zel’s life. The hatred curdled in her stomach shocked her. She couldn’t maintain the cowed posture. “What are you doing in my home?” The woman raised her perfectly manicured brows. “Such a way to welcome a guest.” “Get out.” Zel pointed to the door. She could care less about the gun. Madame Gothel had purposely planned to get her pregnant. Cold-hearted scientist that she was, she wouldn’t endanger her so-called experiment. The anger poured through Zel. “You are not welcome here. You made me quite un-welcome in your mansion. You will not bring your toxic presence into my home.” “Rapunzel.” Bovine used his stern, fatherly voice that never failed. “Calm yourself. Sit.” Though she nearly obeyed, she locked her knees and crossed her arms. “I won’t sit with that woman.” Madame Gothel smiled, a small quirk of her lips. “This creation is a determined thing. That’s why I used the aphrodisiacs with them. Rapunzel showed too much resistance from the start. The first few weeks I had her, I couldn’t get her to even sit at the exam table without the guards holding her down.” Aphrodisiacs. It all made sense. She didn’t know why she’d succumbed to lust for the first time in her life. She’d never even felt attraction before, much less lust. “You tricked me?” Zel clutched her arms. It’d been worse than she thought. Her body had never been her own, nor the passion. Even the gun pointed at her robbed her of her body. She could do nothing to resist its lethal force. “Calm down. Everyone, take it easy.” Bovine turned his frown from Madam Gothel to Rapunzel. “You’re not taking my baby.” She palmed her stomach. “Nobody is. Not Mother. Not Bovine.” “Never. Why would you say such a thing?” Bovine paled and slid a hand over his face. “I know I’ve been a negligent father, but I do love you. I want to make sure you’re well. And, the baby.” “It’s fine, unless whatever drugs she used on me have harmed the baby.” Behind her, a movement of air brushed the back of her dress. “She only used the aphrodisiacs the first day.” Langley strode in, confident and barechested. She jerked her gaze away from so much bronzed skin. It amazed her how he could distract her even with his mother’s gun to her head. “True. I wouldn’t want the drugs to harm the issue. And, the nudge seemed to take. You two couldn’t keep your hands off each other.” Madame Gothel cackled, and Zel struggled not to hate her more even while her confession knocked free some of the ice forming inside her. Langley had wanted her body. They’d both had true passion for one another. That soothed a small part of the ache. “Mère.” Langley sidestepped to stand in front of Zel. She should have moved away, but like yesterday when he’d taken her to bed, she couldn’t resist his closeness. It was
like nectar to the practically extinct butterfly, she couldn’t seem to resist. “Put the gun away.” “I came to bring you two back.” Madame Gothel scowled at Langley. “You tried to run away, to take yourself to the one place you thought I couldn’t get to. But I’d long ago bribed one of the guards at the western gate. How do you think I got in to steal this creation?” Zel had wondered, but since her escape, she’d been confused and useless. She took a step around Langley and toward Madame Gothel. Close now, she only had to lunge to wrap her hand around the weapon. The older woman’s face grew pinched but still mocking. Zel wanted to wipe away the confidence imbued in Madame Gothel’s tooyoung visage. “We’ll find the guard and make sure he’s brought up on charges. Just like you.” Madame Gothel sneered and raised her other hand. In it, she held a flat device which she softly ran her thumb over. “Charges of what? Petty theft of a creation? You’ll cooperate. Now. Or I’ll blind our dear boy here.” Zel sucked in a breath. “You wouldn’t.” Behind her, Langley’s low, dire response gave her a dark premonition. “She would.” Madame Gothel circled around Zel, closer to Langley. “Those eyes. They’re not just for perfect vision. They have a tracking signature and controls so I can be sure of my heir. I’ve had enough of his little rebellion. It’s time he took his position seriously.” “Son.” Bovine made his confidence of Langley known in that one word, as if he were his son in reality. “Don’t worry. I already hacked into your eyes. She can’t permanently harm you.” Bovine had hacked Langley’s eyes? She’d missed something while she’d been numb and wishing for Langley’s touch, holed up in her condo. Now she could have him, if she still wanted him. All she had to do was get rid of this creature who posed as a human. Madam Gothel shook her head with a practiced moue. “There’s no way anyone can moderate the damage I can do with one swipe of my thumb.” To illustrate, she caressed the device with her thumb again. Zel’s mouth ran dry. The most cold-hearted mother in New Castle stared at Langley, not acknowledging Bovine, who had slipped from the room behind her. Zel’s pathetic moping seemed so stupid and useless, now. She had the skills to take this woman down, and all she’d done was let her walk all over her—and Langley. “You will not harm him. I’ll go back. Leave him out of this.” She would find another way out. No matter what. She hadn’t tried hard enough once she’d taken Langley to her bed. She hadn’t. Some part of her had wanted to explore her feelings more, and she’d stopped trying to outwit Gothel’s cronies, even when they’d visibly relaxed their vigil. Besides, if she could keep stalling, Bovine would get them help. “No, Mère. You’re not taking her back. You’re not taking my child.” Langley’s voice was colder than she’d ever heard it. He didn’t sound like the same man. He slid his hand in hers and squeezed. “Go. She won’t shoot you.” He dropped her hand and crouched. Swinging out a foot, he brought Madame Gothel down. Knowing what he’d do next, because she’d taught him the move, she expected him to lunge for the gun, loosened in the prone woman’s hand. But he didn’t. He halted, mid-movement, canted his head to the side and turned toward Zel as Madame Gothel scrambled up from the floor.
There, before she could blink, his dark eyes faded until they’d gone white. His face blanked and he visibly shuddered. He hissed, “Go.” That bitch had blinded her own son. Zel’s entire body went hot, fury coursing through her. She rounded on Madame Gothel, who stared at Langley with a curious, frozen expression of shock and remorse. Tears coursed down her face and she muttered, “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t. Langley.” Zel lunged and gripped her tormentor’s hand, pushing it up. The mechgun went off with a zip. Ozone burned Zel’s nose. The ceiling cracked and sent dust raining down. She swung her foot around and behind Madame Gothel. “Stop,” Langley roared frustration. His demand nearly distracted her. “Zel?” Not answering, she hooked the back of her opponent’s legs and threw her to the floor. “Umph.” Madame Gothel sucked in air, blinking up toward the crumbling ceiling. Zel kicked the mechgun from Gothel’s slack hand. Kneeling, she rolled her prisoner to her stomach and pulled her arms high against her back. Madame Gothel moaned. Zel nearly asked Langley to bring her something to tie the prisoner’s hands, but bit it back. He couldn’t see. Zel wrenched Madame Gothel’s arms higher. The older woman groaned louder. “Zel?” Langley’s concern growled from him. “Tell me you’re okay.” “I’m fine.” She kneeled in the center of Madame Gothel’s back. “I’ve subdued the prisoner. But I need something to restrain her.” “She’s okay, too?” Langley’s face had gone white. His hand reached out, searching in the air. This piece of trash was the person who’d given birth to the man she loved. She couldn’t wrap her mind around it. The woman beneath her knee seemed to deflate. Gothel, who’d caused all this trouble, just sprawled on the floor without moving. This criminal would go away for a long time. Stealing Rapunzel wasn’t “petty theft”. Gothel hadn’t realized Mother would prosecute her for stealing research. Zel had never been so glad to be a “project” rather than a human. “She’s fine. She’ll spend the rest of her life in rehabilitation, but she’s not physically harmed.” Langley walked with small steps in the direction of her voice. “Keep talking.” She did. She rattled on and on about how sorry she was for his blindness, but he didn’t seem to care. When he reached her, his hand swiped toward her, connecting with her shoulder. His hold tightened, nearly hurting her. His feet bumped into Madame Gothel, who gave up her silence and dissolved into a whimpering mess. Langley reached into his pocket and pulled out a link of golden rope. With a steady hand, he held it out. It was a small braid of her hair. She stifled the wonder and the questions. Making short work of it, she tied Madame Gothel’s hands. Zel stood, keeping half her attention on her prisoner and the other half on the man so close she could smell his clean, heady scent beneath the shock of ozone still lingering. “I’m sorry, Zel. I’d hoped…” Langley stared ahead, not seeing, his white eyes stark and cold. “You won’t want someone so… So damaged. And I have to go away. I have my duty.” He took a shuddering breath and grimaced. “I can’t do this.” “Bovine. He said…” She couldn’t remember what he said, but she could feel her heart breaking, right there in her chest, and she wanted to rush into his arms to reassure
him but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. He thought he was damaged? A born human? He might have had a modification, but he existed. Not like her. Blindness was nothing to not being a human. But it didn’t matter. Not if he left anyway. But, he didn’t have to stay blind. “Bovine can fix anything, but even if he couldn’t, I don’t care. I love you. No matter what.” The front area of the house erupted in chatter. Bovine strode in with a half-dozen agents fanning out behind him. In short order, the little condo was full and stifling with all the bodies crammed in, separating her from Langley even more. She couldn’t get to him with everyone in the way. Then he was gone. She’d told him she loved him and he hadn’t said a word, not even goodbye. Bovine led Langley out of the room. It was like a light went out in her. Instead of going to bed and nursing the ache in her chest, she let the operatives pull her to the side for questioning. Two burly agents took a subdued Madame Gothel away. “Good riddance,” she muttered, and then she spent the next hours going over and over details of her abduction, imprisonment, and today’s confrontation. Finally, she’d had enough. She looked at the agent sitting across from her at her dining room table, and stared down the middle-aged man in a blue business suit. “Where’s Langley?” “He’s gone.” He started his questions over again while Zel’s world crumbled. Why would a person who could live in the privilege of the floating islands stay on the ground, in the smog, the crowded streets, and face the harsh day to day life in New Castle? Days passed with her mind whirling in place, stuck in the fact that landers belonged on land and the rich belonged in the sky. A week later, her life was still in unfamiliar tatters when she finally heeded one of Bovine’s messages to let him visit. While there, he talked her into letting him fix her hair follicles. Not that she cared, but it seemed to please him. By week two, she’d grown accustomed to the feel of the stubble on her head. By week four, she could face the sprouts of blonde in the mirror and not flinch. Months, could she handle months? Months of growth inside her and out, while her heart withered? After days and days of thinking about how to pick up the pieces, she’d made up her mind. Right now, in front of her, she had the papers Bovine had drawn up on her insistence, the first bio-creation to place an application for employment to Mother. She’d forced Bovine into arranging it and threatened to never leave her condo again unless her first mission was to take down Gothel Island. After the mission, she’d stay home until after the baby then return to Mother when she got the medical release back to work. Like the bulbs she gently nurtured into bloom each spring, she’d finally opened to life. She knew she was worthy of love. Bovine had always loved her. Her son would, as unconditionally as she already loved him. She gave to this world, even if New Castle didn’t know she did. Her research had helped create new discoveries. Her new job would keep the megacorps in line. Zel was worth fighting for. She was a woman, through and through. Her withered heart turned cold and angry. Her garden cluttered with weeds and overgrowth. Madame Gothel was convicted of theft—not kidnapping—and sent to rehabilitation.
Zel heard Langley had attended the justice proceedings on days when Zel didn’t testify, but that had been the only word she’d had of him in many weeks. Bovine would answer no questions. She needed answers. The morning of her first mission, Bovine waltzed into the condo like he owned the place. Maybe he had the right. He did give it to her. “Shut the door,” she groused. Of all the times she’d heard that from him, she couldn’t believe she had to say it to him. “I’ll not hear another word from you about waiting until I’ve had the baby to go.” She palmed the small bump beneath her filling breasts. The only thing that brought her any pleasure, any hope, was the life growing within her. Bovine looked at her in his way, a certain knowledge burning in his big brown eyes, the way he had since she’d announced her intention to infiltrate Gothel Island. He’d smiled for the first time in weeks. It irked her. He spoke as if to reassure her. “I’ve made sure an expert hovercraft driver takes you. I’ve secured the correct interview permissions, docking approval, and assigned you four bodyguards. If any harm comes to you, I’ll personally see to the decommission of that floating island.” “I can handle it myself.” She straightened the front of her suit and brushed a hand through her chin length bob. The nerves made her knees weak, but she headed to the door with a sure stride. “I have assurances. That’s the only reason you’re going.” Bovine’s stern declaration showed he cared for her, but it didn’t make a difference. There were too many reasons to go for her to count. She would’ve gone without his help. She walked out and turned her face up. Through the early morning smog, a line of floating islands cast shadows from the sky and onto the dingy skyscrapers. For as far as the eye could see—even mod eyes like Langley’s—the city sprawled while the rich didn’t bother to look down from their uppity-ass mansions. One way or another, she had to have this reckoning. Gothel Island owed her.
Chapter Seven When the hovercraft approached the island, she didn’t recognize it. The first she’d seen it was at night. She’d left it by plummeting down on a braid. It was a large mansion of plaster and haphazard wings and her tower protruding from a central block. A bit ugly, in fact. “We’ve been given clearance,” the driver said. “I have orders to remain in the craft and keep it ready to go.” Behind her, four guards remained as silent as they had for the past hour since they’d left the Mother hovercraft garage. They climbed out, two in front of her, two behind, and spread out with their hands near their mechguns. Not wanting an audience when she confronted Langley, she’d have to ditch them. “Why don’t you stay here, too?” Like giant quadruplets, they remained silent. Their wall of heavily muscled gray suits followed her to the door of the craft bay where a woman met her. “I’m Monsieur Gothel’s assistant.” The woman nodded and gave a polite smile. “If you need anything while you’re here, let me know. My name is Mona.” “Anything? I don’t think so.” A snide remark implying Mona gave Langley anything he needed caught in the back of Zel’s throat. She subdued it. The little kick of jealousy surprised Zel. Mona was the opposite of her—short and curvy, dark hair, and a sensuality and assurance of movement. This was the kind of woman—every hair in place, no wrinkles, a perfect business suit that came to her knees—who could walk in those gorgeous heels and look perfect on the arm of Mister High Class Langley. A whoop echoed in the garage, a large space with only one other craft. Mona turned to the sound. “Stanley, watch the windows. Mind you, don’t break any more.” A gangly boy ran by kicking a ball. Behind him, more boys—nearly identical in looks but definitely so in wide smiles—chased after him. There had to be at least six, but it was difficult to tell as they ran past in a blur. “Don’t mind them. They’re just boys. Getting their energy out.” Mona smiled and led Zel out of the garage. A strange thumping started in the back of her head, a realization she didn’t want to think about. She didn’t want to know anything about those boys, though she had a strange feeling their presence had something to do with her. “Where are we going?” Begrudging even one question to Mona, she asked because they were heading past the labs and offices—all brightly lit from the sun that only shone fully up above the smog—and toward the damned tower. “Monsieur Gothel has moved his offices for the time being.” Her heart beat furiously and she had to take several rough breaths as she started up the stairs to the tower. She stopped on the third tread, her legs rubbery, but she didn’t fall back into the wall of guards still silently following her. “I’ll wait for him in his old office, wherever it is. He can see me there.” Hand gripping the rail of the narrow and murky stairwell, Mona turned and though she was a stranger, the concern was apparent in the downturn of her mouth. “He hasn’t come down from there since his return.” Zel’s mouth ran dry. She gripped the handrail and lifted her heavy leg to the next step. Then she did it again. Every single step was a milestone, a relief to have mastered it, and an added weight on her hot and tight chest.
“I called his old valet, Bennet, and he came to visit. Even he couldn’t talk him out of there, and we all know how much they care for one another.” “Really?” Zel didn’t know. She loved Langley so much it hurt but maybe she didn’t know him at all. She knew the particulars. What he was like as a child, how he’d lived. Where he went to college. That he was passionate about his cause. She’d memorized his body, the exquisite talent of his fingers, his tongue, the torturous rhythm of his hips, but not what he liked to do for fun, what he enjoyed reading, who he cared about. Her heart raced so much she couldn’t hear her own steps. Did he care for another woman? Had he had a lover when his mother had trapped him in her plan? Perhaps that was why he’d left and had never come back. The anger she’d harbored for the past few weeks roared back to life and strengthened her resolve. She lifted her chin and climbed the steps. At the top, light shone through the open door. She paused at the landing where Mona had moved to the side and motioned her past. The door wasn’t simply open. It was gone. The chamber beyond had been her prison. The door that had kept her inside was missing. At her angle, she couldn’t see into the room. Only a small portion of a wall, barren where before she’d hung Langley’s album tablet, reminded her of how she’d spent her weeks, staring at those pictures or out the window waiting on Langley to come. “A moment, Ms Denmark.” One of her guards had finally spoken. A gentle grip on her wrist held her back while the other three men moved into the room. Rumbling and quiet conversation came from inside, and she stood there, letting the guard keep her back, because that voice still had immense power over her. The hushed tones of Langley made her yearn. Then the anger came. She pushed past the guards and gave them an emphatic order. “Get out.” They moved silently down the stairs with Mona. Zel stepped further in and was alone with Langley. In her old prison. The surreal circumstances nearly pulled a laugh from her chest but she constricted and choked it before it could escape. Langley’s slim figure stood rigid near the foot of her bed where a desk had been set up. He didn’t come to her, or blink. He didn’t even appear to breathe. He’d lost weight. Half-circles darkened beneath his eyes. His hair had gotten longer. With resolve, she pulled the folded tablet from her pocket, and slid the album onto the desk with a deft throw. She couldn’t look at it anymore without a tear slashing through her chest. Langley glanced down and frowned at the small square and cleared his throat. Then the spell binding them to stillness shattered. “You look wonderful. You must be doing well.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. He wore jeans, a plain worker’s tunic, and walking shoes. Nothing fancy, but he looked better than ever. She was so hungry for him. His new eyes must be faulty because she did not look wonderful by any means. Her own eyes had bags and her smile seemed lost forever. Despite the toll time had taken on him, he did indeed look delicious. But she wouldn’t tell him so. “Why are you here?” “I have my duty.” His answer straightened his back and took away any softness. The blank and superior expression of an Islander fell over his face. “I meant here.” She swallowed the dryness in her mouth. “The tower.” She’d moved closer. That’s why she could see something flash across his face before
it was gone. “Privacy.” He mumbled the word and his gaze dropped. “The boys make so much noise.” “And what are they doing here?” “Mère had ordered them. I found I couldn’t rescind it, not knowing where they’d go. So I took them.” “What will you do with them?” A trembling started in her hands so she tucked them behind her back. His gaze darted down to her breasts which ached with the glance. Their newfound fullness pressed against her too tight suit. He licked his lips and answered. “I’m sorry. What were we discussing? I lost my thoughts…” His voice trailed off and somehow she was right before him. She could reach out and touch those sinful lips. “What are you doing here?” “I deserve to be. You were stuck in here and I didn’t get you out. I will stay until I’ve served my own time.” She swayed a little on her feet but didn’t reach out to him. Her hands fisted tightly behind her back. “I’m to investigate Gothel Island to deem whether or not GOoSE will revoke the flight license.” This was an empty threat. GOoSE was largely powerless. Mother did most policing actions behind the scenes and incarceration of criminals from the megacorps was to rehabilitation facilities, barely a step below the floating islands themselves. Usually, if Mother got wind of outrageous acts, they took apart the megacorp from the inside, if they could. Nothing overt to cause the other megacorps to protest. “As I told Bovine, I will cooperate fully. All security codes by Mère have been cracked and the pertinent files are at your disposal.” His eyes had shuttered and he spoke in a chill voice. In a stiff move, he sat behind the desk and spoke into an intercom built into the flat surface. “Mona, show Ms Denmark to the office we’ve set up for her.” He didn’t look up. Despite the stiffness of her limbs, she soon found herself back down the stairs, to her immense relief, and in Langley’s suite of rooms which had a grand entry area, a waiting room, and office on the first level. She wouldn’t think about what was assuredly on the level above. His private quarters. His bedroom. He’d put her in his personal space while he sat above in the tiny room she’d been held in for twelve weeks. From his desk, larger than the pallet where she’d slept in the tower, she scoured through tablets of data. Shock and disgust at Madame Gothel’s seminal research made her nauseous. She sat back, too moved to continue. Langley’s chair held his clean, masculine scent. It both soothed her and made her nervous. Despite her real anger toward him, she still wanted him. She twirled the comfortable chair to the side and stared out of the window. He had a phenomenal view. Wispy clouds floated by in the clear blue sky. This blue didn’t exist on the ground. The continual smog hid it. In the distance, another floating island drifted. They kept a permanent and consistent flight pattern around their grid. Langley would’ve seen this island from this window all of his life. He might not know which megacorp owned it, but he’d know every detail of the façade facing out. This one seemed to have nothing but
glass, everywhere. With a telescope, she’d be able to see right inside. So clear, it could almost disappear in the sky. The way she had. She’d been up here for weeks and nothing had changed below. Except for Bovine, no one had missed her. Yet, Langley had. A few of her instructors had asked after her. And her botanical findings had contributed to Mother research even as she’d been stuck up here. Langley had missed her. He’d shown her a cold, remote side of himself, but their matching bruised eyes told the truth as nothing else did. There was more truth shown to her today. Within these files of Gothel research, Langley had created a clear case against his mother. He’d documented the heinous research project that had brought Madame Gothel fame. In addition, he exposed part of Gothel’s plans for Rapunzel’s hair. The plan had been to make the most advanced prosthetic arms and legs ever created. The boys downstairs escaped the fate slated for them, to have parts of them removed and replaced with technology created from Zel’s own hair. The thought sickened her. Langley had locked all other research down. With the requisite signatures from Madame Gothel, he’d also filed all the necessary papers and was now the head of Gothel Island. Madame Gothel was no longer in a position of power. The man she loved, the father of her child, was the owner of a dirty megacorp. And it didn’t matter. She still loved him. On the lower level of the island, he’d cleaned out all the research labs housing more than twenty men and women, all creations. Their meticulous medical care to return them to a semblance of health, their employment papers filed with GOoSE, their financial package to get them started in life, and in reparation of harm to them. The boys had started an education here and lived in the main house with a tutor. A boys’ school was built in the bottom level of the mansion. All of it pointed to Langley setting to rights what his mother had wronged. Yet, he’d sealed most of his mother’s work. In her heart, she couldn’t imagine Langley would become what his mother had been, but he covered it up when before he’d been ready to fight. She was here to be sure Gothel Island didn’t continue its corrupt ways. She had to face him again. The stairs up the tower had been such a struggle before. Now, they were almost as if nothing. The moment she decided to confront him, she seemed to appear before his turned back. He leaned over the sill of the tower room window and didn’t turn as he spoke, as if he knew her mind exactly and she didn’t need to ask her questions. “I made a deal with Mère. If she signed over the island and cooperated in rehabilitation, then I would seal away all her wrongdoings and help her retire when she gets out. Exposing more of her than the one experiment would help no one. In fact, it would open her research to the same kind of disreputable scientists who’d continue it.” The right of his solution made perfect sense and she nodded. She took a breath to tell him so but though it was classified, she instead blurted, “I’m a Mother agent now.” Langley turned with an expression of surprised pride. He halted a move toward her and quirked a small smile as the light in his eyes dimmed a bit. “I’m glad for you. You have my heart, my life. My commitment. I’ll be proud of all you achieve down there. Always.” “Your heart?” Zel whispered.
“If you ever need anything, no matter how small, I’ll always get it for you. I’ve set up a fund for our child. He’ll never want for anything. If he wants this island one day, it’s his. Until then, I’ll safeguard it. I’ve started weeding out projects that use people as if they were commodities and will continue my own bio-research, but without living subjects. When my methods prove true, I hope to convince other megacorps to do the same.” Pride filled her chest. “That’s wonderful, Langley.” “It’s what I was trained to do. Bio-research.” He stared at her lips. She licked them and his gaze darkened, but he didn’t move. “I am no longer comfortable working with NOMBIO. Their view of creations is not much better than Mère’s.” His chest expanded as he took a deep breath. “I stayed away from you until I set everything right. Until I could get my own head on straight. You deserve a whole man.” Zel’s body shook. Her anger had subsided when she’d seen he’d felt the passing weeks as keenly as she had. It started to crack open when she’d read what he’d been up to. Now, with the intent written his features, it split asunder and laid her heart wide open to this man, this uppity-ass Islander who had the power to buy and sell people like her as if they were a new pair of shoes. “I am angry at you for staying away.” She’d meant to rebuke him, but he took it as encouragement as his beautiful lips lifted in a smile that brightened the room around her. “I had to stay here. As you had. To pay for what I did to you.” He didn’t sound very contrite. He sounded sure of himself, determined. “Has it been twelve weeks?” “No. But it seems longer.” He stepped toward her and she locked her knees to keep from stepping back. “So very long, every day, every second.” “You didn’t talk to me.” “Every night. In my dreams. When I could sleep on this pallet still holding your scent. Other than that, I couldn’t contact you. I had to be as trapped as you were.” Ignoring his sweet words, she snorted. “You’ve been working. I had nothing to do but stare at these walls.” He grinned at her and stood so near his clean, masculine scent wrapped her and sent her mouth watering. “You had a few things to do.” Leaning forward, he claimed her lips in a soul bewitching kiss. She let the cocooning touch soothe her hurt even as it enflamed her body, remembering the things they did, together. She’d not wanted to love Langley, but she did. She couldn’t even control her heart. It had mourned every second of his absence. Her entire life had never been hers, but this love was. She wanted Langley. She wanted to be with him the rest of her life. The want and desperation to reach for it thickened around her and made the sound of her breathing echo in her head. With a groan, he stepped back, taking the heaven of his mouth with him. He crossed his arms across his chest. The bulge of his muscles stretching his tunic sent another lick of heat through her. Her senses reeled. To keep from jumping him in desperation, she couldn’t look at his hungry expression. She stared at her shaking hands. Dirt stained beneath her nails. The roughness of her skin, calluses, and an old scar from a digging trowel marked her as a lander, someone who did not belong with Langley.
Langley knelt in front of her. “When my twelve weeks are done in this tower, I’d like to build a new life. With you.” Her heartbeat thundered erratically in her ears. “But I…” She stopped. She what? She’d trained to be a Mother agent. Now she had it … but realized she enjoyed her gardening more. Finding rare specimens surviving on the polluted ground had given her such fulfillment. “I have plans to turn this tower into a greenhouse.” He spread his arm, encompassing the room and inspiring a vision of what could be. She could almost see flowers blooming along vines clinging to the walls. She blinked. Stunned pleasure flowed through her veins. “My prison.” Once again, he proved he read her mind. “Your prison will be transformed into a garden. And whatever else you need to make this your home, we’ll do. Working for Mother as a megacorps wife will put you in a position to help them as no other agent has.” “I love you.” She couldn’t hold it back. His strong arms circled and swooped down around her knees. He lifted, picking her up and carrying her the few steps to her pallet. He was on her, between her legs and she’d spread them in an instinctive move. Slowly and methodically, he pulled off his tunic, worked on the fastenings of her suit, and finally pressed against her skin to skin, kissing every inch of her flesh this mouth could find. All the while, he mumbled over and over against her skin, “I love you.” The bliss and pleasure made her feel drunk. “Be my wife, Zel.” He palmed her breast and pulled back, staring down with such yearning it pulled at the heat blazing in her belly. She opened her mouth but only a moan came out. “I can’t help myself. I have to touch you, and you won’t get out of this bed until you answer me.” He pinched her nipple—sending a delicious current of lust to pool in her belly—before he stroked her peaked breast in a maddeningly slow thrumming. Need tightened low and hot. “Say yes.” She shook away the languid passion and concentrated to speak clearly. He had to understand. “My choice is for you. But what’s the point? What will happen to you, associated with a creation? I can’t legally marry you. I don’t have a birth certificate.” “Say yes, and we’ll be married the only way that matters. Between us. Our commitment is our own. We belong with each other by our words and heart. We’re legally connected through our child, our children. And you can use your position, if you want, to work as an agent. The other megacorps don’t need to know your status, unless you want. I’ll proclaim to all of New Castle, I love you, no matter where you were born.” She didn’t know if she could live through the happiness bursting inside her. She smashed her lips to his. The warmth infused her from the inside out, burning where he touched. Like she turned a corner from the smog filled cities and into a broad meadow, sun-filled and bursting with life. He chose her. As much as she chose him. Could anything else matter? He chuckled and hugged her tightly. “Is that a yes?” “Yes,” she croaked through her joy tightened throat. “Yes.” They belonged to each other, no matter the way they were born, or the papers
forming their legal identities. “I love you.” His hands ran through her new hair, and he kissed a handful of strands. “I’ll always love your hair. It brought you to me.” For the first time in her life, she thought she might love her hair, too. Langley ran a hand up her thigh and her breath caught. “We have a few weeks to catch up on.” “We have a lifetime to do it in.” With a hand fisted in his silky hair, she pulled him back down and kissed him the way she meant to do every day for the rest of her life— with all her heart. Her body blazed as he entered her and set a steady rhythm, tormenting her as much as brought her to new heights. Zel and Langley didn’t leave the tower until his self-imposed sentence was up, and then, forevermore, they climbed those steps when they needed time together, alone, and enjoyed the love that bound them as tightly as braided silk. The End About the Author: As a child Ella read books under the covers with a flashlight. There she found a special love of elves, dragons, and knights. Now that she's found her own knight in shining armor and happily ever after, she loves to write tales of fantasy, hot enough to scorch the sheets. No flashlight needed. Visit Ella at her website (www.elladrake.com), on facebook (facebook.com/ella.drake) or on twitter (twitter.com/lori_ella). She is a regular contributor at the Raven Happy Hour on Sci Fi and Future Technology. (ravenhappyhour.com/ravenblog/)
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