Obsidian's Flame

OBSIDIAN ’S FLAME

“Tell me you want me, Samantha.” He claimed her mouth in a hard, bruising kiss, then almost immediately calmed, sipping from her lips with gentle nibbles. “Tell me you want this,” he murmured, and pressed his erection against the cleft of her body. In response, she slipped her hands under his form-fitting shirt and traced the contours of his chest, stopping to rub her thumbs against his tight nipples. When he drew in a sharp breath, she smiled, a sultry curve of lips meant to be kissed, and kissed often. Her hands wandered around to his back and skimmed down his spine to slip under the waistband of his trousers, coming to rest on the curve of his ass. “Are you sure you want this with me?” she whispered, her eyes searching his. “I’m nothing but a street rat, after all.” He took her mouth again, gently this time, assuring her without words she was exactly where he wanted her to be. When he drew back, they were both breathing faster. “You’re so much more than a street rat, cher. Don’t you ever put yourself down to me. Comprends?” She nodded. “I understand.” She brought her hands back up to his waist and he felt her take hold of the hem of his shirt. “I think you have on too many clothes for what you have in mind.” He grinned, the relief almost as great as his lust. She wanted him. She’d have him…

ALSO BY S HERRILL QUINN The Claiming

OBSIDIAN’S FLAME BY SHERRILL QUINN

AMBER Q UILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

OBSIDIAN ’S FLAME AN AMBER HEAT BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2006 by Sherrill Quinn ISBN-10 1-59279-625-7 ISBN-13 978-1-59279-625-0 Cover Art © 2006 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

A huge thank you to Sara for her keeping me on the straight and narrow with the sci-fi aspects. To Suz, Jane and Alison—the best critique group anyone could ask for. Thanks y’all. I couldn’t have done it without you.

OBSIDIAN’S FLAME

CHAPTER 1 There he was again. Samantha Burton sat at the table in the darkened corner and watched the tall, dark-haired man settle a few tables away. She’d noticed him several weeks ago, the first night she’d tried this little French restaurant in the south quadrant of the mining town. To be honest, he was hard to miss. About six and a half feet of hard, muscular male with a face covered by the scruff of a day-old beard, and dark, chocolate-brown eyes, he’d immediately drawn her gaze. The first time she’d seen him, he’d eaten his meal like most men, economically with a minimum of fuss. And then he’d gotten up and left. Without paying the bill. She wondered if he’d pay his bill tonight. She knew who he was: Marcus Treyva, nicknamed “Obsidian,” one of the most feared members of the Security Elite team that policed the 1

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small town of Nowhere. Six men patrolling the streets and byways for a population of three hundred miners and support personnel. And people like her. Street rats who lived in groups of six to ten in order to protect themselves from the roughnecks who mined the rare terbinium used to enhance the effectiveness of fuel cells. People who, because life here often offered no other alternatives, made their living as pickpockets and grifters. And who, like most of the miners and support staff living on this planet named New Chance, were genetic freaks ousted from Earth twelve years ago in 2140, because they were considered too dangerous to the Normals. Sam had discovered early on it was next to impossible to survive in this harsh environment on her own. After drifting from one mining town to another, she’d finally settled here in Nowhere. For nearly two years she’d lived with ten other people on the outskirts of town in an abandoned area near one of the earliest mine shafts. Her companions, while not exactly living the life of upstanding citizens, still had some morality left in them and she counted herself lucky to have found them. So here she was, just four years shy of her thirtieth birthday, living day to day, subsisting on whatever her group could scrounge, beg or steal, and getting the odd legitimate job now and then. There were no more mining jobs and few Normals would hire her, an Enhanced, to work in shops or their houses. So she did what she had to, to survive. No matter that the genetics of the Enhanced had been screwed up by secret government testing. When the world-wide Coalition was formed, it was deemed in the best interests of all concerned that the thousands of Enhanced humans be given a choice: leave the planet or be imprisoned. Most left Earth, to find their way to new planets where they hoped to live without oppression. Most were disappointed. Here on New Chance there wasn’t much oppression, as the majority 2

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of the inhabitants of the dozen or so mining towns were Enhanced. In Nowhere, a little over three quarters of the townspeople were Enhanced, living in relative harmony with their Normal counterparts. Obsidian and his fellow security team were all Enhanced, except for the captain of the squad. Deacon Arbigast was as Normal as they came, and Sam, with her empathic abilities, always had a sense of something dark lurking behind his congenial mannerism each time she saw him. His aura had a muddy aspect to it that was disturbing. It made her palms itch, which was never a good sign. Itchy palms meant she was trying to activate her flames. Obsidian, on the other hand, she couldn’t read. Oh, she got a fairly good read of his aura, which usually was clear and clean and didn’t indicate he was a dishonest person. But she’d been wrong before, and she couldn’t read anything deeper than that. Whether it was because of his particular enhancement or for some other reason, she didn’t know. But it was frustrating, because she sure wanted to find out why he always came here and never paid for his meals. Ever. She could only assume he was like the others on the Special Elite Force: on the take, accepting bribes to look the other way while rare minerals and precious gems—uncovered during the mining process— were smuggled off world, most likely back to Earth. She wasn’t sure if CSG Mining Conglomerate was involved in the smuggling, or if the smugglers merely took advantage of the company’s greed in plundering as much terbinium as quickly as possible. And she wasn’t sure if Obsidian knew or not; maybe she’d ask her friend Charlie to shadow the big man for a while to be certain. While she didn’t have all the details, she knew Charlie had a military background, so he hopefully would know what to do. Obsidian shifted in his chair, making her realize she’d been staring at him while her thoughts churned. Sam was startled to see him staring 3

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right back at her, one dark eyebrow lifted as if to ask if she was done yet. She looked down and pushed the last piece of her bread around in the white sauce on her plate. But knowing he still watched her made her too nervous to finish eating. She motioned to her server, who brought over her bill. Handing him some credit chips, she pushed back her chair and walked with quick strides toward the door. Once she was outside, she started down the street. Before she’d taken a dozen steps, a big hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into an alley. She found herself thrust against the wall, a brawny forearm across her collarbones, big fingers curling over her shoulder. Sam gasped and looked up into the dark brown eyes of Obsidian. “You wanna tell me why you’ve been shadowin’ me, little girl?” His gruff voice with its Cajun drawl rasped over her eardrums and set up tiny eruptions along her nerve endings. He was a handsome devil, with his sinful eyes and sexy, made-for-kissing mouth. But he was way out of her league. “I’m not shadowing you,” she muttered, wiggling against his hold. At five-nine she could hardly be called little, but compared to his bulk and the fact he had nearly a foot of height on her, she supposed he might see her that way. Not that she appreciated it. “Hmm. You’ve been here a lot lately.” He tightened his fingers on her shoulder and she stilled, looking up at his hard face. Suspicion glittered in his eyes. “You want me to believe you just had a hankerin’ for good French cuisine?” “It’s an affordable place, on some of the items.” In her experience, when all else failed, you tried to brazen your way out. “But, wow. I’m impressed you can pronounce a word like cuisine, let alone that you know what it means.” She raised her eyebrows, trying to appear astonished. His eyes narrowed and she bit her lip against a grin. Score one for 4

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Sam. “Maybe there’s more to you than meets the eye, hmm?” he asked, leaning over her, bringing his face within inches of hers. His breath smelled of spice and wine, and she caught an underlying scent of musky cologne on his skin. That smell and the heat from his big body made her weak in the knees. “You seem well-educated for a smartass street rat.” His lips tilted in a sardonic half-smile. Her urge to grin faded. All right, score one for the muscle-bound security guy. If she could get out from under his arm, she could blast him with fire, forcing him to activate his enhancement—skin that transformed into body armor, impenetrable and black as night. Hence, his nickname. Obsidian. But when he was in full Obsidian mode, he was bulky, slow. She could easily outrun him. And she would, first chance she got. Just as soon as she took another whiff of him. “Trey!” A man from the street leaned around the corner of the building. Sam turned her head the same time Obsidian did to see a short, broad figure in the light of the streetlamp. “What’re you doing, ami?” The same Cajun accent as Obsidian’s colored the man’s voice. “You don’t need no whore. Come on, your food’s gettin’ cold.” Sam stiffened. Since she’d left Earth, she’d done a lot of things she wasn’t very proud of in order to survive, but she hadn’t resorted to selling her body. Not yet. Not ever, she hoped. “Settle down, little girl,” the big guy murmured. To his friend, he called, “I’ll be right back, André.” He waited until the other man walked out of sight, then his face turned back toward hers and, almost as if in slow motion, he leaned over her so closely their noses nearly touched. His free hand came up and cool fingers skimmed her cheek, curled around her jaw. “I think there is more to you than meets the eye, cher,” he murmured. With an intense gaze, he searched her face, scrutinizing her features. 5

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“You do?” What an inane response, she thought, but his touch distracted her, tightened her insides, made her want to touch him back and run away all at the same time. “Mmm.” His thumb rubbed lightly over the corner of her mouth, then slipped along her lower lip. When her mouth opened, he covered it with his own. He nibbled at her lips, lightly sucking, drinking down her sigh. His caress was light, as if he touched something fragile. Sam had never been touched with such care before, wouldn’t have expected it from a tough guy like Obsidian. She wondered if he would touch the rest of her body the same way. Even as her toes curled at the thought, she pushed at his shoulders. What the hell was wrong with her? He was über-elite on this world; she was nothing. He and his kind were superheroes here. Well, as close to superheroes as a bass-ackward planet like New Chance was likely to get. When she gave a particularly vehement shove, he pulled back but didn’t remove his arm from across her collarbones. “Let me go,” she muttered, staring at the dip in his throat below his prominent Adam’s apple. She wanted to press her lips to it and work her way down from there. God, she had to get out of here. “Let me go,” she said again, and brought her gaze up from his tempting throat. She was met with a stubborn chin bisected by a tantalizing cleft. She closed her eyes briefly. This man was sex on a stick; she had to get away from him before she did something rash like tackle him to the ground for a few rounds of wicked, sensual play. It was now or never. She kept her body relaxed up to the moment when she brought her knee to his groin. Hard. The breath left him in a low groan and he doubled over. Sam darted around him and ran from the alley, and didn’t look back. A few seconds later, she heard a roar of rage from behind her, then 6

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the heavy footsteps of the hunter. She rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. Whipping around, she flexed her fingers, then held her hands palm forward and called forth her enhancement. As soon as Obsidian ran into view, she let loose a stream of fire from her hands, careful to keep the burst brief and not long enough to actually reach him. Her plan wasn’t to hurt him, just discourage him from chasing her. At the first glimpse of danger, his eyes narrowed and immediately his skin hardened and became as black and shiny as wet ebony ink. His enhancement fully deployed, he brought down the arm with which he’d reflexively covered his eyes. His gaze narrowed on her in fury. “Better be careful, cher.” He took a step, then another, gliding forward with the easy moves of a predator stalking its prey. “Fire can’t burn rock. I’m immune to your…ability.” “Yeah, well, try and catch me like that,” Sam threw at him, and took off running again. Low male curses sounded behind her, then slow, pounding footsteps. She ran full out, ducking into alleys, twisting around corners, doubling back through side streets until she’d lost him. Still, to be on the safe side, she crept from shadow to shadow, on the lookout for a big guy with a score to settle. She couldn’t get caught. She had a job to do. She’d promised Frank, the man who had been the closest thing to a father she was likely to ever have, that she’d expose the mining operation for the danger it was. She’d made that promise to him while he lay dying, the victim of an “accident.” Her throat tightened at the memory and she angrily swiped at her eyes, trying to clear the tears that blurred her vision. She had to get the documentation on terbinium from the mining office and get the hell out of here before she ended up like everyone else who’d tried to expose the truth. Dead. And, unfortunately, Obsidian wasn’t in the equation. Her heart thumped in disappointment, but she was resolute. Besides, she didn’t fit 7

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in his world. She was a street rat—he’d said so himself, after all. She quashed the hurt that flared as she thought of his low opinion of her. It shouldn’t matter. She couldn’t let it matter. Better she focus on what she needed to do than weep over something she’d never have.

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CHAPTER 2 Twenty-four hours later, Sam found herself face to face with Obsidian once more, and cursed the Fates and whoever else might be listening and responsible for sending her life to hell. “You know you’re not gonna get by me, little girl.” He stood tall and solid in the doorway of the mining office, blocking the exit to freedom. He was dressed in his crisp uniform, his rank insignia shiny on his collar. A silver badge was affixed to the left side of his shirt, and a small medal with what looked to be a piece of terbinium in the center was on the collar opposite his insignia. An earpiece communicator curved around his left ear. All in all, he looked…deliciously crisp. It was enough to tempt any woman over the age of sixteen to do whatever she could to rumple him. The beige uniform emphasized his dark good looks and made him appear more dangerous than ever. She muttered a curse under her breath. The first time she tried to do 9

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a job on her own, trying to fulfill her promise to Frank without input from any of the others, and she’d somehow once again attracted the attention of Obsidian. Sam flexed her fingers, preparing to defend herself. If he called her “little girl” one more time in that arrogant drawl, she might just blast him for the hell of it. Her adversary snorted at her fighter’s stance. “You already know your fire can’t hurt me,” he said. “So why bother?” She flexed her fingers again in threat, calling forth her pyrokinetic ability, feeling her palms and fingers tingle and grow hot. She knew he wouldn’t be scared. Not even fire could burn through rock. “You don’t have anything on me.” When all else fails, bluff. He leaned one hard, brawny shoulder against the doorframe and crossed his arms. His stance suggested he was relaxed, but she saw the watchful readiness on his face. “Don’t I?” Dark eyes became shuttered as his lashes dropped to shield his gaze. “No, you don’t.” She brought her hands up in front of her, palms facing him. “Then why’re you getting ready to blast me?” His voice remained calm, his manner unhurried and seemingly uncaring that she might send a stream of fire his way. Well, yeah. ’Cause when he activated his body armor he was as impenetrable as solid stone. She gritted her teeth. “Because you’re in my way.” “Well, I guess I’m stayin’ in your way then, until you tell me what you’re doing here at CSG’s main office, cher.” Sam glanced around the small room and tried not to look guilty. This part of the mine was off limits to all but a few top-level mine employees. And members of the Security Elite team, of course. Nothing was off limits to them. She didn’t have clearance to be here. Needing to give a reason for being someplace she shouldn’t be, she rattled off her prepared excuse, including the rehearsed look of 10

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nervousness and lingering fear. “Some miners were following me, so I came in here to hide.” “Uh-huh.” He shifted a little, then resettled his weight against the door frame. “I’ve been monitoring this area all night. Heat and motion sensors say you’re the only one who’s been through here.” Dammit, dammit, dammit! She was in deep doo-doo now. No one had said anything about friggin’ sensors, although she should have known. Obsidian had a reputation for being thorough. Sam swallowed nervously, then inwardly cursed the betraying movement. When she didn’t respond, he quirked one dark brow. “Wanna try again, little girl?” She clenched her jaw. He really was asking for it, for all the good it would do her. All he had to do was wait her out. The doorway he blocked was the only way out of this room; there were no other doors or even a window she could break through to get to the narrow street outside, and the outer wall was made of stone. Considering the mining town was enclosed in a dome that was only thirty square kilometers, even if she did get away, there weren’t many places for her to run that weren’t patrolled by the Security Elite. But she had a few hidey-holes she hoped he knew nothing about. It’d be worth a try. The heat built up in her hands and a light red glow emanated from her palms. He saw the tell-tale sign and his skin transmuted to hard, shiny black armor. Before she could talk herself out of it, she flung her hands outward, sending a barrage of fire toward Obsidian. And, as she had done before, she kept the burst low-heat and short, keeping the flames from actually reaching him. She heard a low, dark curse come from him, and he ducked his head. He backed away, farther out of range of her fire, and quickly shrugged out of his shirt, mumbling something about fire retardant material. Lifting one arm to shield his eyes, he moved slowly forward. 11

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Sam waited until he was nearly upon her, then she twisted and darted around him. She’d just made it to the door when he turned and snagged her by her long, braided hair. She yelled and reached back, firing another blast at him, this time not caring as much if the flames reached him. By the way his grip tightened on her hair and his muttered curses, she figured she was having some effect on him. But it wasn’t enough. One hard, black arm pulled her back against his body and the other arm wrapped around her, trapping her hands at her sides. She squirmed to get free, but finally had to accede defeat. It was like fighting a mountain. A great-smelling, fire-warmed mountain, but a mountain nonetheless. “Done?” He breathed against the skin under her ear and a shiver went through her. He was tall and broad and hot at her back, making her want things she had no business wanting with someone like him. She lived on the fringes of society. He was part of the powers that be who decided what society was. There was no place for someone like her in his life. Focusing on calming her breathing, she tried to relax in his unyielding hold. “Let me go. Please.” “You’ll stay put this time?” His voice was a low rumble in her ear. Sam nodded and waited for him to release her. He shifted behind her, his arms tightening briefly, making her glance down. The body armor disappeared until his skin once again looked normal. Forearms roped with muscle and covered with dark hair relaxed and then dropped away. She turned and faced him, her hands held loosely at her sides. While he studied her, she took the time to look him over. His face was high-cheekboned, scruffy with slight beard growth still covering his strong jaw. Sensual lips made her want to draw his head down for another kiss. Her gaze drifted lower to a heavily muscled chest covered with a feathering of crisp, dark hair. She tracked 12

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the line of hair as it trailed down his ridged abdomen and disappeared into the waistband of his pants. When she looked back up to his face, she saw his dark brown eyes glittering with deceptively lazy intent. “Like what you see, cher?” he asked in that lazy Cajun drawl of his, cocking one arrogant eyebrow. Seeing that he’d looked her over just as closely, she decided to give as good as she got. “Maybe. What about you?” “Oh, I like what I see just fine.” One lid lowered in a slow wink, and he grinned at her scowl. “But don’t think you’re gonna distract me. How ’bout you explain why you’re dressed all in black, like a woman with thieving on her mind.” The smile faded from his mouth and his face hardened into something she recognized all too well. Cop-face. What to do? Should she trust him with the truth? He had a reputation for being a real straight arrow in addition to his thoroughness, though there was still that matter of him not paying his restaurant tabs. And even if he wasn’t on the take, stealing was stealing, no matter how good and just the reason might be. She wasn’t ready to find out where he drew the line. Her gaze darted to the corner of the room where Frank’s friend had hidden the incriminating data disc, then she looked back at Obsidian. It was clear she wouldn’t be able to grab the disc now; she’d have to come back another time. Sam took a deep breath, then another, knowing she had to make a break for it. Giving him no warning, she flung out her hands, sending twin streams of fire toward him. Even as he cursed and threw up his arms to protect his face, she turned and ran down the hallway. When the outer doors swooshed open, she barreled into the street. Heavy steps pounded after her and she put on a burst of speed, turning down first one alley, then another. As she ran, she saw the end of the alley had a block wall that appeared to be at least eight feet tall. 13

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Luckily it had several storage crates piled in front of it. Sam scrambled up and over, making sure to kick the highest container off the stack as she brought her foot over the top of the wall. A thump and low curse sounded behind her, telling her the crate had careened into Obsidian. It wasn’t what she’d planned, but it worked for her. Ten minutes later, she ducked through a small opening in a fence that separated two common areas of twin housing units. She pushed open the back door of the closest building and ran down the hallway. At unit number two, she knocked twice, then twice more. When the door swung open, she pushed her friend Charlie out of the way and closed the door behind her. “Hey!” Sam shushed him. Footsteps tread down the hallway, pausing in front of each door. When he stopped by Charlie’s—and she knew it was Obsidian on the other side of the door—she breathed slowly through her nose. Charlie’s lips parted and she clapped her hand over his mouth to prevent him from speaking. Thankfully, he clamped his mouth shut and waited. Sam took her hand away and, only after the footsteps faded and she was sure Obsidian had moved on, did she take Charlie’s arm and pull him farther into the living area. “I need to get back to the compound,” she whispered. “Can you help me?” Without a word, the old man sat down on a rickety wicker chair to draw on his shoes. “Who was that?” He nodded toward the door. “Obsidian.” She kept her response as quiet as his question had been. His eyes widened and he blew a soundless whistle. “How in the hell did you attract the attention of Obsidian?” He ran his fingers through his gray hair. “Never mind that now.” She fidgeted with a button on the frayed 14

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cuff of her shirt. “He’ll be back. We need to go.” Charlie nodded and stood. “This way,” he said quietly, and headed toward the bedroom. He walked to the antique headboard of the bed and pressed one of the woodworked flowers decorating it. With a soft whir, the bed slid across the floor and a small opening was revealed. Charlie grabbed a mini lumi-light from the bedside table and started down the narrow stairway. Sam followed closely behind and waited at the bottom while he pushed another button, sending the bed back to hide the opening. “This way,” he said, turning on the small handheld light, and took off at a fast trot down the narrow corridor. After several twists and turns, they came to the end. Charlie pulled a rope by the wall and a slotted door slid up. Forced to bend, they crawled through the small opening and out into an alley near her compound. “Stay here while I check things out,” Charlie murmured. After handing her the lumi-light, he stood against the concrete wall and seemed to disappear. Sam knew he was still there; he’d merely activated his mutant chameleon ability, which allowed him to blend in with his surroundings. In a few minutes, she felt a light touch on her arm and jumped. “Sorry.” Charlie slowly became visible again. “It seems to be clear. There’s no movement and nothing looks out of the ordinary.” She reached over and planted a kiss on his weathered cheek. Handing him the light, she whispered, “Thanks, Charlie. I owe you one.” He patted her arm. “You just be sure you stay safe, hon. That’s all you owe me.” Sam gently squeezed his fingers in thanks, then moved out of the alley and onto the sidewalk of the main street, keeping one shoulder to the wall of the buildings as she passed them. Just as she started to cross the next alley, a big hand reached out and dragged her into the 15

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darkness. “Hello, little girl. You’ve given me quite a chase.” Sam looked up into chocolate-brown eyes and swore under her breath. Damn. Talk about being thorough.

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CHAPTER 3 Marcus Treyva stared down at his little fire starter and tried to hide a grin at the disgruntled expression on her lovely face. He leaned over her, caging her within his arms and making sure he had her legs trapped. No way in hell was he leaving himself open for another jab from her knee. It was too sharp. And painfully accurate. There was going to be some payback for that, to be sure. And the payback would be slow and sensuous and, if he was lucky, leave him mindless with pleasure. Blue-gray eyes sparked with defiance and his gut clenched. Other parts of him clenched as well. Oh, yeah. Once he got her story, he wanted to do the horizontal mambo with her. If she was willing and, from what he’d seen from her, she was. He might not let her up for a week. Or two. Maybe three. He had leave coming to him and he might just use it all at one time. The light floral scent he’d smelled in their earlier encounters wafted 17

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to his nostrils and he inhaled. He wanted to slide her beneath him, wanted to taste her, bury himself deep inside her sweet, hot pussy. His cock twitched. To remind himself he had a job to do, he reached up and ran a finger over the new service medal pinned to his hastily donned shirt. With a center made of polished terbinium, giving it a shiny pearly look, these were exclusive to New Chance. He’d had his for less than twenty-four hours and couldn’t stop touching it, unable to believe he’d stayed with one job long enough to actually receive a service award. When his parents had been informed he’d been one of the children to which the illegal genetic manipulations had been done, they’d disowned him. As if it was his fault. And so, at age thirteen, he’d started taking care of himself. He hadn’t done a very good job of it. In and out of trouble, the typical story of a parentless teen. Picked up by a good-hearted cop and given a choice: straighten up, or spend several years in jail. He’d straightened up. Now, at thirty-five, he owed everything he was to that cop, Deacon Arbigast, now his boss. He wouldn’t disappoint the man. So that meant finding out what this little miss was up to. “Here we are again, cher.” Trey leaned into her more fully, trying to intimidate her with his greater size. When she stared up at him with a frown, pushing against his chest with her slender hands, she reminded him of a kitten, all fluff and hissing fury, tempting him to kiss her until she purred. “Now, let’s start this again, shall we?” Just to make certain she didn’t get away this time and to ensure she couldn’t call forth her fire again, he wrapped his hands around hers, folding her fingers into her palms. When she tugged and scowled, he tightened his grip. “Ow,” she complained. Her eyes sparkled in annoyance, but he didn’t read any real pain there. “You’re hurting me.” “Then stop trying to get away from me,” he responded evenly. 18

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She stopped struggling and stood quietly, though her body was taut. He knew she’d take off the second she thought she had a chance. “That’s better.” Trey looked around. Spotting a small café, he started walking toward it, drawing her along with him. Once inside, he took a table in the back, waving off a server as she headed their way. He put the fire starter in a chair in the corner and pushed the table up against her stomach, effectively blocking her in. “You do not want to attack a law enforcement officer in front of witnesses,” he warned as he pulled over a chair and sat next to her. Her eyes narrowed and a muscle in her jaw flexed. She glanced around at the other patrons and he saw her posture visibly relax. She seemed to agree with what he had told her. “Put your hands on the table and lace your fingers together,” he instructed in a hard tone. While she complied, he finished buttoning his shirt, then leaned one elbow on the table and studied her. Her eyes still shone with defiance and some fear, which he was sorry for but realized it couldn’t be helped. She was in trouble, and she knew it. Her dark hair was drawn back in an intricate braid, the tail hanging to the middle of her back. Remembering how he’d grabbed it at the mining office when she’d first tried to get away, he bit back a grin at the thought that it made an effective way of corralling her. He had a feeling she was just contrary enough to cut it off if he ever shared that bit of information. Assuming she hadn’t thought of it already. If it were up to him, there was no way in hell he’d let her do it. He had visions of her sucking his cock, his hands wrapped in handfuls of long, silky hair as he guided her mouth up and down his long, thick length. Even though his balls still throbbed from the jab from her knee, his dick didn’t seem to have any difficulty at all getting hard. Of course, before he had her mouth, he wanted her cunt. Tight, hot and wet, clasping him and taking him to heaven. He shifted on his chair and reached down to adjust his erection. “All 19

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right, little girl.” He saw the way she stiffened at his continued use of that descriptor and his lips twitched. All he had to do was prick her temper, and she’d tell him more than she knew, or planned. “Suppose you tell me your name.” “If it’ll keep you from calling me ‘little girl,’” she replied, her tone tart. “It’s Sam.” “Sam’s a boy’s name. What’s it short for?” When she didn’t respond, he guessed, “Samantha?” Her scowl told him he was right on. He slouched back in his chair, stretching his legs out, nudging against one of her calves with the tip of his boot. “So, Sam, eh?” Her frown deepened and she shifted in her chair, curling her legs between the rungs so she wasn’t touching him. “It’s my name,” she said. “Or you can call me Phoenix.” “Hmm. A fire starter called Phoenix. Not very original, little girl.” He watched closely as her body became even more rigid. “I’m Marcus Treyva, but everyone calls me Trey.” “I prefer to call you Obsidian.” A muscle twitched in her jaw and her eyes darkened to a stormy gray. “What do you want from me?” He clasped his hands over his stomach, giving the appearance of being at ease, although his own muscles were coiled and ready for action. She wanted to call him by his code name, did she? Perhaps to try to maintain distance between them because she felt the same burning desire he did? He’d find out, later. For now, he needed answers to her presence at CSG. “I want to know why you were in the office tonight.” She fidgeted in her seat and looked down at her hands. Her lips parted, then pressed together and she shook her head. “What did your street gang send you there to steal?” Trey straightened and moved one leg to the side of the chair. Just as he did so, the server walked from a nearby table, balancing a tray of drinks. She caught her foot against his and, before he could move out of the 20

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way, the waitress and her tray landed on top of him. Ice and liquor dumped onto his chest and into his lap, sending him to his feet in reflex. He held the waitress by her upper arms and asked, “Are you all right?” As lithe and quick as a little monkey, Samantha pushed the table away and clambered over it. She was out the door and around the corner before he’d taken three steps. With a curse, he took off after her, his shirt tails flapping as he ran. His longer legs ensured he caught up to her three streets away in a dead-end alley. He was several meters in from the street when she blasted him with a stream of fire. Instinctively, he threw up one arm to protect his eyes and focused on activating his armor. When nothing happened, his heart gave a hard thud and he frowned in confusion. Then the fire made contact and pain shrieked through him. For a moment, he stared stupidly down at his arm and chest, seeing flames devouring the material of his shirt. He had the same thought as before that the force should invest in flame-retardant uniforms, then he was knocked to the ground. A cursing bundle of furious femininity slapped at the fire. “You stupid jerk,” Samantha muttered, sitting back on her heels and staring at him with confusion dipping her brows. “Why didn’t you activate your body armor?” Through pain-filled eyes, he looked down at his arm, seeing the material of his uniform had burned away and his skin shone raw and red, even black in some places, from the flames. His chest felt tight, constricted. Clenching his jaw, he muttered, “I tried.” She blinked and heaved a sigh. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Holding his injured arm against his chest, Trey struggled to sit up and agony streaked through him. “Fuck!” He fell back to the ground, eyes closed, and panted through the waves of pain. 21

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“I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft and for the briefest of moments he felt the touch of her fingers on his cheek. When she moved away from him, he opened his eyes. She walked quickly out of the alley and he watched, unable to do anything about it, though he couldn’t squelch the disappointment that she would take advantage of his injuries and leave him like this. She was only being true to her nature. Trey closed his eyes again, tiredly turning his face away from the street. He’d get up in a minute and summon help. He just needed to rest. Just for a minute. After a few moments, footsteps sounded, then someone knelt by his side. When fingers touched his chin, turning his head, his lashes swept up and he stared into blue-gray eyes brimming with tears. “I’ve called a med-vac unit,” she said, her voice softly trembling. “They should be here soon.” He opened his mouth to respond, but she forestalled him by placing two fingers over his lips. “I can’t stay. You know I can’t stay.” Her voice was husky and low. “I am so sorry.” Samantha slowly drew her fingers away from his mouth, then rose and ran from the alley. Almost immediately, two figures in the telltale white and red coats of medical personnel came into view. As they worked over him, checking his vitals and placing him onto a hover gurney, Trey kept searching for some sign of his elusive fire starter. Only when they loaded him into the portable hyperbaric unit did he stop looking for her. She was gone. But not forgotten. As soon as the med unit spit him out with a clean bill of health, he would find her. Because now she had two things to make up for.

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CHAPTER 4 Two hours later, Trey lay impatiently in the hyperbaric chamber, forcing himself to be still as the burn unit did its thing. All he wanted to do was get out of here and find Phoenix. Samantha. There was something about her that drew him, something more than just the physical beauty of her face and form. It was her feisty personality, her never-say-die attitude. Her compassion. When he heard a ping and then the click of the chamber door releasing, he sat up and started pulling vitals monitor leads off his chest. “Dammit, you are the most impatient man I’ve ever known.” Deke Arbigast, his boss and mentor, helped him out of the horizontal unit. “How do you feel?” “Fine.” Trey pulled on a pair of cotton trousers provided by the medical personnel, and loosely tied the drawstring. He glanced down at 23

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his chest and forearm, and lightly touched skin that was slightly pink but completely healed. “What the hell happened?” “I’ll tell you later.” Trey looked around for his shoes. He needed to get on the trail of his little fire starter before it went cold. “You’ll tell me now.” Deke’s voice dropped a notch on the last word. Trey’d heard that tone from his friend many times before. It usually came when he’d done something he shouldn’t have. He knew better than to prevaricate. He sighed and continued searching for his footwear. “I caught someone breaking into the mine office. I chased her and when I caught up with her, I couldn’t activate my armor.” “You couldn’t… What the fuck do you mean, you couldn’t activate your armor? It’s not something you do, it’s something you are.” Trey shrugged. “All I know is it didn’t work.” He concentrated and his skin instantly grew into the hard-as-stone armor the way it should have done earlier. A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth as he reversed the process. “Well, it seems to be working now.” Deke’s sigh was loud in the small unit. “Where were you? I mean, how the hell did you end up in a fire?” Deke handed him his shoes and waited while Trey put them on. “It’s a long story.” Seeing Deke’s dark look, he conceded defeat. “The suspect’s a fire starter. I think she’s been tracking me and I caught her at it.” Or maybe it was coincidence that they both liked French food. Either way, it really didn’t matter to him anymore. He’d found her once; he’d find her again. “And she blasted you? Did she know who you are?” “Yeah. She knew.” Trey remembered the look on her face in the restaurant when she’d realized he’d caught her staring. Startled dismay, embarrassment and, underneath it all, a look of such hot desire he’d instantly come to attention. 24

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And his cock hadn’t fully settled since then. Well, other than when she’d shoved her knee in his groin, that is. Oh, and when she’d blasted him with fire. But now, thinking of her had his randy prick raring to go. You just can’t keep a good man down, he thought with a small grin. “Do you know what she wanted?” Deke paced in front Trey, his brow furrowed. Trey shrugged. “I have no idea. But it’s a sure bet she’ll be back.” “I’m sure you’re right. We’ll increase security at the mine, especially in the perimeter surrounding the office. And I’ll put Wolfe on finding out more about the girl.” Deke handed Trey a cotton shirt. “Any ideas why your armor failed?” Trey pulled the shirt over his head, smoothing the hem over the waist of the loose-fitting trousers. He didn’t want the new guy, Valerius Wolfe, looking into anything—the fire starter was his—but to say something against the idea would raise his boss’s suspicions. He answered the question with a simple, “Nope.” That his armor hadn’t worked should bother him more than it did. The mutation had been part of him for so long. But if it never worked again, he was all right with that. It made him feel…like a Normal. His enhancement wasn’t something that was integral to his job as an officer, though it did help protect him. Others on the force didn’t have the luxury of built-in body armor; he’d be just like the rest of them. And that wouldn’t be so bad to his way of thinking. “Well, let’s walk through this.” Deke leaned against the side of the unit, putting out one hand when Trey made to walk past him. “Uh-uh, my friend. You’re not leaving this med unit ’til we know what happened.” He waited until Trey settled back against a supply cabinet, then went on. “Did you go anywhere today that you haven’t been before?” “Nope.” “Eat anything different?” 25

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Trey shook his head. “Nope.” Deke heaved a sigh. “There’s got to be something different about today.” Trey shrugged. “Not that I know… Wait a minute.” He looked around for his clothing. “Where’s my shirt?” “You mean what’s left of it?” Deke walked over to a small red bin and opened it, pulling out the tattered remains of Trey’s uniform shirt. “Here.” Trey walked over and took the burnt remnant from his boss. His service medal was a melted glob stuck to the material. He touched the molten mass with his index finger. “Look at that.” He held the shirt out to his boss. “What?” Deke asked. “Is that your service award?” He whistled. “Your little fire starter has some heat behind her, after all. I’m not sure what the metal is that the awards are made of, but the centerpiece is terbinium. Its melting point is three hundred degrees.” He took the shirt and studied the ruined award. “You think this had something to do with your armor not functioning?” “I don’t know.” Trey drew in a breath and blew it out through pursed lips. “I just know that’s the only new or different thing in the last day or so. It got wet, too. I don’t know if that had anything to do with it or not.” “Well, we need to get you checked out. And get you another medal to replace this one.” Deke looked up at Trey. “Going back to your fire starter for a minute, do you think her fire can get hotter?” Trey frowned. “If it does, she didn’t use it on me. I wouldn’t have survived.” “Mmm. Yes, I think you’re right. You’d have irreparable damage, more than just singed eyebrows.” “My eyebrows are singed?” Trey leaned over a silver tray and moved the medical instruments to one side. To be sure, his eyebrows 26

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were shorter than they had been, and partly missing in spots. He was damned lucky she didn’t get him worse than she had. “Oh, vanity, thy name is Marcus Evan Treyva,” Deke intoned. “Shut up.” Trey straightened and started toward the door. “I need to find her.” “And if she blasts you again?” This time his boss made no move to stop him. “Speaking of that,” Trey said, “we should really think about getting flame-resistant uniforms.” He went down the steps and, with a look over his shoulder, answered Deke’s question. “I don’t think she’ll blast me. She’ll be too busy.” “Too busy doing what?” Deke asked. When Trey merely waved at him over his shoulder and kept walking, he repeated, “Too busy doing what?” Trey grinned but didn’t stop. First things first: he’d go home and get into some of his own clothes, and track down his little flame thrower. He’d find out what she was doing in the mining office, then maybe he’d start a fire of his own. *

*

*

Sam sat on the dingy sofa and stared at a holo-pic of Professor Frank Scott, the man who’d befriended her when she’d first arrived here on New Chance. He’d been like a father to her, fulfilling that role easily and giving her something she’d never had before. Family. With her index finger, she traced the line of his bearded jaw. Her very own Santa, with his white hair and beard, his rosy cheeks and twinkling blue eyes. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she swiped at them impatiently. She owed him. Everything. “I miss you so much,” she whispered. “And I promise I will find the evidence you wanted. I’ll prove that terbinium is causing sterility.” She placed one hand on her abdomen. She, who had been alone 27

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much of her life and had craved a family, would possibly never be able to have children of her own because of the damned terbinium dust. In large amounts it was suspected to be lethal and, in smaller proportions—four hundred parts per million—it caused sterility. Whether that sterility was reversible had yet to be determined. Frank had found out about the existence of documents proving the toxicity of the dust from a former colleague, one of the scientists working for CSG. Frank had told Sam and asked for her help in retrieving the data disc. Two weeks later both men were dead, victims of freak “accidents.” Those documents needed to get into the right hands. Someone outside of CSG and outside of the corrupt Coalition government of Earth. Frank had given her the name of an old friend of his, another scientist who lived on another planet, a man whom he’d trusted implicitly. She had her off world transport already lined up; all she needed now was to get the damned proof—information the scientist had hidden away before he’d been killed. Information that, as far as she was aware, she was the only person who knew where it was. Test results compiled by the muckity-mucks at CSG. And covered up by them with bribes and other underhanded dealings with authorities who were willing to look the other way. Authorities that might include Obsidian. That was something she didn’t want to believe. Tears welled again as she thought of the burns he’d suffered at her hands. If she’d known his body armor wasn’t working, she’d never have blasted him to begin with. It had worked before, in the alley, only yesterday. What had happened? Was it because the waitress had spilled her drinks on him? Surely not. He had to get wet every day when he bathed. On this rough-hewn planet, they didn’t have sonic cleansers. People had to get clean the old-fashioned way, by bathing in water. The rich, who could afford running water, took showers and baths. 28

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Not that she envisioned Obsidian taking a bath with his service award on but, still, there were plenty of opportunities for something like that to get wet. The poor, like her, had to make do with birdbaths after hauling the water up from the reservoir a kilometer away from the compound. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a real, honest-to-God soak. Yes, she did. Frank had surprised her on her birthday with a supply of water he’d heated and hand-carried from the stove to a copper tub he’d scrounged from somewhere. God. Frank. She missed him. She wiped again at the wetness on her cheeks. Sitting here blubbering like a baby would get her nowhere. She needed to take advantage of Obsidian’s injuries and get back to the mining office. Once she had the data disc in hand, she’d be off this godforsaken planet and never look back. With a hard swallow, Sam forced away the sadness that crept over her at the thought of never seeing Marcus Treyva again. As much as she wanted him, it was ludicrous to think she could fit into his world. Ridiculous to hope he’d want her to. Fruitless to wish she’d get another chance to touch him, taste him. She sighed, switched off the holo-pic, and got to her feet. She’d wallowed in self-pity long enough. There was work to be done. With swift, economical movements, she undid her braid and ran a brush quickly through her hair. It sparked with static, so she spritzed the brush with water from a spray bottle and tamed the fluffy strands. Then she redid her French braid, securing it with a thick band. Remembering the way Obsidian had captured her by the long tail, she eyed the scissors and thought about cutting it off. But it had taken her years to grow her hair this long and she didn’t want to cut it if she didn’t have to. If she was able to get off world without another run-in with Obsidian, she and her hair should be safe. Knowing the med unit would probably have spit him out by now, 29

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Sam had no more time to waste. She didn’t think Obsidian would suspect she’d head back to the mining offices so soon after their altercation. It was now or never. She stripped her clothing, now stained with refuse and dirt from the alley where she and Obsidian had… No! She dragged her thoughts away, refusing to feel guilt over something that was an accident. Taking fresh clothing from a drawer, she pulled on form fitting black pants and a tight, long-sleeved black pullover shirt with a high neck. Her black gloves and black boots completed the outfit. Taking one last look around the small room in which she’d lived for the last two years, she pressed her lips together against the pain of leaving. The pain of having been left. On impulse, she grabbed the small holo-pic disc and shoved it in her pocket. Then she walked away from the only place she’d ever truly called home. Sam squeezed through the opening that guarded the abandoned area of the mining complex where she and the others lived. Head down, she worked through the plan while she walked. She quickened her pace. If she jogged, it would take her twenty minutes to get to the mining office, and she’d give herself ten minutes to get the disc and get out. Another fifteen minutes to the space port, where she’d wait an hour for the weekly off world transport. It would take two months to get to the next colonized planet, where Frank’s former colleague waited for the disc. If she missed any of these connections, she was out of luck. Then… Well, she hadn’t quite thought that far. She’d figure out what she’d do with the rest of her life once she fulfilled her promise to Frank. When she was stopped in her tracks and firmly but surprisingly gently pushed back against a wall, her gaze flew up and she stared into the dark eyes of Obsidian. Déjà vu all over again. She let out a startled squeak, then her gaze tracked over his face. Healed skin, still slightly 30

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pink, was in patches on his forehead and chin. His eyebrows were nearly gone. She sighed and fought back tears of frustration, realizing her promise to Frank would go unfulfilled. If Obsidian was the straight arrow he was reputed to be—and she had the feeling he was—he’d surely never let her break the law. Time had run out. She was done before she’d ever really gotten started. Unless she could catch him off guard, get away from him… He leaned close to her, his breath sweet and hot against her face. “You and me, we got some unfinished business, little girl.”

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CHAPTER 5 Trey wrapped one arm around Samantha’s waist and grasped her right wrist, anchoring her to his side. The little minx was dressed all in black, which told him she had planned something clandestine, probably another visit to CSG’s office. “And before you think to ditch me, you should know security’s been increased at the mine office,” he told her. “So you might as well forget about whatever you were thinking.” She slumped under his arm and sighed, a deep forlorn sound that pricked at his heart. “We need to talk,” he murmured, staring down at her. Her full lips were parted, her warm breath blew in soft puffs against his neck. Screw talking. He had to taste her again. As he lowered his head, her eyes widened with the realization of his intent. Then, rather than try to back away from him as he half expected her to do, she came up on her tiptoes to meet him. The first touch of her mouth seemed to stop time. He was struck 32

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motionless at the softness of her lips on his, on the line of his jaw, under his ear. When her mouth moved back to his, he took control. One hand went to the back of her head, while the other hand splayed across the middle of her back. He nibbled at her bottom lip, her moan firing along his nerveendings to echo in his growing erection. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, then dipped inside the sweet cavern of her mouth, where her tongue mated with his. When she moaned again, he grew more demanding with his kiss, using harder pressure against her willing mouth. Trey spread his legs a bit and pulled her into the V of his body, and groaned at the feel of her pressed fully against him with only the barrier of their clothing separating them. He wanted more. He needed more. “I want to see you,” he muttered against her mouth, taking tiny nips at her swollen lips. “I want to taste you. All of you.” She moaned again. “Yes,” she whispered. Delicate hands came up to frame his face. Her heavy-lidded, passion-filled gaze met his. God, he had to get them naked. “Let’s go somewhere private, cher. My place isn’t far.” Blue-gray eyes gazed into his, then those little white teeth came down on her lower lip. “My place is closer. It’s through there.” She pointed to a small opening he didn’t think a child could fit through, let alone an adult his size. He cocked a brow. “You’ve got to be kiddin’.” “I live beyond this fencing.” He wanted to trust her. He did. But the thought crossed his mind that it might not be the best idea to go to her place. Who knew how many of her street gang might be waiting? Besides, to be able to rip off enough of the fencing for his greater bulk to fit through, he’d have to turn her loose. Their history together told him she’d run the second he let go of her. “I think we’ll go to my place.” 33

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“I won’t run,” she promised, her face solemn. It was almost as if she’d read his mind. When he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, she said, “It’s written all over your face.” “Hmm. Well, you’ve said you wouldn’t run before,” he reminded her. “And look where that got me.” She bit her bottom lip again. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her face was pale, her eyes dark with remorse. He was surprised at the guilt he felt over making her feel bad. Dammit. He was the one with the singed eyebrows here. “I promise I’ll stay put.” She met his gaze unflinchingly. Trey grunted and pulled her along beside him. Within fifteen minutes they’d gone from the poor side of town to the more affluent section where he lived. Her head twisted back and forth as she looked at the modern housing units. Once they reached his place, he had to turn her loose to unlock the door. He gave her a dark look that promised retribution if she ran, then released her. When she stood there, clasping her hands in front of her, he inserted his key card but kept an eye on her. The locking mechanism hissed as it released. Trey pushed down the door latch. Shoving open the door, he put his hand at the small of her back to guide her inside. She pursed her lips but said nothing, merely stepped over the threshold and into his quarters. Trey followed behind her. The door closed, the latch clicking shut. He gazed around the room, taking in the sparse furnishings. He really should spruce up the place a bit, but it all seemed rather pointless. This was a bachelor’s quarters, with one big area for sleeping and relaxing, with a desk for work by the door, and a smaller area to one side that served as a kitchen. The only room that was separated by walls and a door was the bathroom facility. His large bed was in the corner, covered with a faded, frayed quilt that had seen better days. But it had belonged to his grandmother and was one of the few familial things he’d been able to take with him 34

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when he’d left Earth. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Samantha said, her voice quiet. She stood in front of his desk, her head bowed, slim fingers tracing a pattern on the surface. “I thought you’d activate your body armor. It slows you down.” He’d thought that was what she’d been up to. Taking his strength and turning it into a weakness showed an intelligence and cunning that was impressive. He remembered her remorse in the alley after it happened. She’d tried to make sure he was taken care of before she’d left. She could’ve just left him there. Most street rats would have. But he had the feeling Samantha wasn’t like most street rats. “I tried to activate it,” he said, coming up behind her. “It didn’t work. I don’t know why. It worked later on. I’ll figure it out, but right now I’ve got other things on my mind.” Trey placed his hands on her shoulders and gently urged her around to face him. When she kept her head lowered, he tipped her chin up. Wide eyes met his. “I know you thought I wouldn’t be hurt, cher. I’m willing to chalk it up as an accident. But that doesn’t mean I don’t expect you to settle up.” He barely caught her answering grin before he took her mouth, hard. He wanted explanations from her and knew he had a better chance of getting them if he kept her off balance. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he groaned, pulling her into his arms. The job had less to do with this than he wanted to admit. He wasn’t as concerned about getting answers as he was with getting…her. That was all he could think of. Sliding her under him, her legs wrapped around his hips, her hot cunt grasping his cock. When he ended the kiss, his mouth moved to the sensitive skin of her throat. She gasped and clutched his back. Impatience rode him and he decided to forego getting his answers so he could move onto more important things. 35

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Things that would result in him getting lost in the snug clasp of her body. With an oath, he swung her into his arms and walked the few meters it took to reach his bed. He laid her down and settled on top of her. Nestling his groin in the notch of her thighs, he framed her face with his hands. The interview would wait. Right now, he had to get inside her. “Tell me you want me, Samantha.” He claimed her mouth in a hard, bruising kiss, then almost immediately calmed, sipping from her lips with gentle nibbles. “Tell me you want this,” he murmured, and pressed his erection against the cleft of her body. In response, she slipped her hands under his form-fitting shirt and traced the contours of his chest, stopping to rub her thumbs against his tight nipples. When he drew in a sharp breath, she smiled, a sultry curve of lips meant to be kissed, and kissed often. Her hands wandered around to his back and skimmed down his spine to slip under the waistband of his trousers, coming to rest on the curve of his ass. “Are you sure you want this with me?” she whispered, her eyes searching his. “I’m nothing but a street rat, after all.” He took her mouth again, gently this time, assuring her without words she was exactly where he wanted her to be. When he drew back, they were both breathing faster. “You’re so much more than a street rat, cher. Don’t you ever put yourself down to me. Comprends?” She nodded. “I understand.” She brought her hands back up to his waist and he felt her take hold of the hem of his shirt. “I think you have on too many clothes for what you have in mind.” He grinned, the relief almost as great as his lust. She wanted him. She’d have him. Trey hopped off the bed and removed his clothes with a minimum of fuss, in a serious hurry to be naked. Once he was completely unclothed, he turned back to the bed and stopped when he saw her 36

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sitting up, legs crossed, her gaze glued to his erection. “Like what you see, cher?” he asked with gruff arrogance to cover his sudden anxiety. He knew he had a form pleasing to women but, truth be told, he was a bit nervous with her. What if she found him lacking? “Very much. You’re a very handsome man.” She climbed off the bed and walked slowly around him, trailing one hand over his shoulders, then over his pecs and through the trail of hair arrowing down his belly. She stared at his erection, bobbing boldly from its nest of hair. Looking at his face, she took his hands and turned him until his back was to the bed. She gently urged him backward. When he hit the bed, he sat, automatically spreading his legs. Samantha knelt in front of him and ran her hands lightly up his thighs. She bypassed his sex and followed the lines of his obliques. When he twitched at her light touch, she smiled. “You’re ticklish,” she murmured with a glance at his face. Her eyes twinkled with the knowledge of his all-too-human weakness. “Yeah.” He wasn’t about to tell her his feet were ticklish as hell. She had enough ammunition as it was. He reached for her, but she batted his hands away. “I want to touch you, Trey. Find out what pleases you.” God, he wanted that, too. But not now. Now, he wanted to taste her, fuck her. “Later, cher. Cuz I wanna touch you. If you do what I think you want to do, I won’t last.” She tsked at him. “Big, bad Obsidian is quick on the trigger?” she asked. She bit her lower lip and he knew she fought a smile. Her head tilted to one side and she winked at him. “Who knew?” Unperturbed by her teasing remark, he grinned. One hand went to the high neck of her shirt and he traced a finger along its edge, pausing at the vein throbbing in her throat. At his soft touch, she shivered and her eyes darkened. Trey reached behind her and took the band off her 37

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braid, then gently combed his fingers through her silken tresses until her hair fell in waves around her shoulders. “Beautiful.” Trey stood and pulled her to her feet in one easy motion. “I think you’re the one who’s overdressed now, cher.” He walked behind her and slid his hands around her waist. With a slow, steady tug, he pulled her shirt from the waistband of her pants. He heard her soft sigh as she raised her arms. Drawing the top up and over her head, he dropped it on the floor. When she looped her arms back around his neck and leaned into him, he set his mouth against the sensitive skin where her slender throat merged with her shoulder. He slid his hands around to her breasts and cupped them through her bra, holding their sweet weight in the palms of his hands. Steady and slow, he swept his thumbs over her nipples, feeling them tighten at his caress. Samantha shivered and sighed, and rubbed her backside against his erection. With a groan, he pressed against her, and then, with his hands on her shoulders, pushed her slightly away to finish undressing her. The long, slim line of her back drew his gaze and his lips. He kissed his way to the back enclosure of her bra. With a flick, he opened the clasp and she let it fall to the floor. His hands went back to her breasts and he groaned, openmouthed, against the soft skin of her shoulder. Even silkier skin filled his hands. Silk with diamond-hard tips skimmed his palms and he was helpless against her allure. Trey turned her to face him and stood still, his gaze fastened on her breasts. Creamy skin tipped with a blush of peach areola and, at their centers, tight nipples hard and dark with need drew his mouth. A low groan rattled from his chest and he bent her over one arm. He sucked her nipple deep, his free hand going to her buttocks to pull her lower body against his. With a gasp, she arched up into the heat of his mouth. Slender fingers twined through his hair and gripped, pulling 38

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him closer. Her gasps and low moans told him she liked it. Moving to her other breast, he rasped his tongue over the puckered tip. “Trey,” she moaned. He pulled her nipple into his mouth and suckled strongly. Sliding his erection between her trouser-clad thighs, he pumped his hips against hers. It wasn’t enough. He needed to get her naked, needed to feel the hot, slick clasp of her pussy around his cock. Now. “Let’s get you out of these pants.” His voice was hoarse, but he didn’t care if she heard how much she affected him. When she reached for the opening of her slacks, his fingers stayed hers so he could work the fastening free himself. Kneeling, he pushed the material over her hips and down her slender thighs. Bracing herself with one hand on his shoulder, she stepped out of the pants and stood clad only in a pair of lacy black panties, wet silk that clung to her, outlining the plump lips of her sex. Trey pressed his cheek against the slight rise of her tummy and inhaled, drawing her sweet feminine scent into his lungs. He pressed a kiss to her navel, dipping his tongue inside the soft indentation, the sound of her gasp tightening his aroused body even further. With eager hands, he slipped the panties down her legs and lifted her away from them, depositing her on the edge of the bed. He glanced up at her and the look in her eyes—a mixture of desire and nervous anticipation—tightened his gut. He’d make sure this was good for her, that he was good for her. Nothing meant more to him at this moment than her pleasure. Going back to his knees, he pressed her legs apart, wedged his shoulders between her thighs. Draping her legs over his shoulders, he dipped his head to the soft folds of her pussy. Her tangy-sweet taste flooded his senses. He groaned against her wet flesh, dipped his tongue into the well of her body. With another low groan, he licked his way up 39

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until he reached the hooded bud of her pleasure. She bucked against the flick of his tongue. God, her flavor was like nothing else he’d ever tasted. Soft and hot, salty-sweet. And completely addictive. Drawing back slightly, he moved his hands, slid his thumbs through plump folds of flesh and pressed her open. Her swollen clit and the slick opening to her body met his gaze and he swallowed, hard, and kissed her there, his mouth open on her sex. “God, you taste sweet, cher. I could feast on you forever.” She was so wet, so hot, his balls drew up hard. His erection surged toward his belly. He wanted to thrust into her, to wrap her sweet cunt around his cock. He shuddered and plunged his tongue deep. Samantha gasped and arched against him. She wiggled on the bed, almost as if she were trying to maneuver away from him, but then her feet went to his shoulders for leverage and she opened herself completely. Her unrestrained response almost sent him over the edge. With fingers that trembled, he strummed her clit, stroking it in ever tightening circles, fast and hard, while he fucked her with his tongue. With a loud cry of his name, she shuddered against him, spilling more of her slick juices onto his tongue. He swallowed and kept at it, determined to take all she could give, and more. When she finally settled back against the bed, her breasts heaving with her quick, deep breaths, he scooped her up and positioned her against the pillows, and settled between her thighs. Medical advancements being what they were, sexually transmitted diseases were a thing of the past and, since he received without fail the monthly contraceptive injections, there was no risk of an unwanted pregnancy. Knowing her circumstances, he was fairly certain she couldn’t afford the injections, and curiosity prompted him to ask, “Are you inoculated against pregnancies?” His extreme arousal made his voice gruff. If he didn’t get inside her, and soon, he felt as if he would burst. 40

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To his astonishment, she closed her eyes. Trey cupped her face and rubbed his thumbs back and forth over her cheeks. As his concern for her grew, his arousal subsided. “What is it, cher? Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.” Long lashes swept up. Her gaze held his, hope and caution warring within the stormy depths of her eyes. It was obvious to him she didn’t trust him, and he pushed aside the hurt he felt at that realization. She didn’t know him, not really. Why should he expect her to automatically trust him? Why wouldn’t she make the assumption he was as crooked as everyone else on his squad, looking the other way, taking bribes, enabling smuggling and God knows what else on this isolated rock in space? At first he’d tried to get things cleaned up but, when nothing happened and he was put under more scrutiny, he concentrated on doing the best damn job he could and to hell with the rest of them. “Trust me.” Trey willed her to believe in him. He’d never wanted anyone to trust him as badly as he did her. If she trusted him, he’d be able to help her, get her out of here. He wasn’t sure when he’d started thinking of her in terms other than lust. Oh, to be sure, there was still a healthy sprinkling of that emotion whenever he thought of her, but now it was mixed with something deeper, softer. Something he wasn’t ready to put a name to just yet. “Trust me,” he repeated. He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “Let me help you.”

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CHAPTER 6 Sam searched Trey’s eyes as if she could see through to his soul. Her mind went back to the first time she’d seen him, months before the restaurant incident. He’d been standing in an alley between two buildings, talking to one of the miners who’d been mugged by a street rat. As Obsidian, in his crisp, tan uniform with its shiny badge, he had made quite an impression on her. The thing that had impressed her most—because of its complete surprise to her—was the color of his aura. While the inner layer closest to his body had been a deep blue indicating excellent physical condition, she’d been astonished to see a member of law enforcement with a mostly white center layer. White, for purity and protection. And the outer translucent layer—that area holding the deepest, most private emotions and characteristics of the individual—had been purple, telling her he had a deep kindness and possessed high ideals. Auras didn’t usually lie. But she wasn’t ready to take that chance. 42

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With a deep breath, she made her decision. Bringing her hands up to his face, she swept her thumbs over his sensual lips and pulled him down for a kiss. Against his mouth, she murmured, “Just make love to me, Trey. Stop talking and touch me again.” “Don’t think we won’t come back to this,” he warned just before his mouth crashed down over hers. One big hand stroked from her waist to her thigh and she spread her legs farther apart, inviting his touch. Her hips lifted, pushing closer as his callused finger circled the sensitive opening of her body, teasing her for breath-stealing moments before he slowly pushed inside her sheath. His finger began a maddeningly slow pace, stroking in and out while his thumb pressed against her engorged clit. She closed her eyes, a moan tearing from her throat as her inner muscles tightened around his finger. Soon another finger joined the first, then another, stretching her, preparing her for more. His mouth ate at hers until her lips felt bruised and swollen. Pleasure swamped her, tightening her body until she was sure she’d explode with ecstasy. When his fingers withdrew, she moaned and opened her eyes. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded. Trey’s face was tight, his eyes glittering with need. If she’d had trouble reading his emotions before, they were plain to her now. He was consumed by lust—his aura a strong, vibrant red—determined to have her, yet that desire was tempered by a deep tenderness. No one had ever looked at her like this before. As if she was something deeply coveted, a treasure once lost but now found. Her heart expanded and warmth spread throughout her body. Raging hunger beat at her like the pulse of an energy burst and she felt her pussy spasm with a lustful greed she couldn’t ignore. She was so close. “Don’t stop,” Sam repeated, her voice little more than a hoarse groan. She wrapped her fingers around his thick wrist and tried to bring his hand back where she needed it. 43

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“Not so fast, cher,” he rasped. “We’re gonna do this together.” His hips bunched as he slowly drove himself into the grasping clasp of her sheath. He paused. As he started to pull back, her hands went to the firm muscles of his buttocks. When her fingers dug into his flesh, he grinned, a quick flash of white teeth against the tan of his face. “Patience, Samantha.” Though his tone held its usual lazy drawl, she heard the underlying tension of strained control. He began to work his way into her body and she felt each slow thrust in, each enflaming withdrawal. Inch by inch, in, out, in, out, in again until his hips were cushioned by hers. She caught her breath at the thickness of his cock, filling her so completely her muscles strained to adjust. “God, you feel so good,” he rasped. He placed a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. “So tight. So hot.” Then he began to move, a long slide out, a slow glide in. His thick cock rode over the curves of her pussy and she gasped with each stroke. Soon control was a thing of the past. Trey pounded his cock into her with short, fast jabs, sending wildfire twisting through her core. The room filled with the sounds of flesh against flesh, her breathy cries and his deep groans. The smell of sex and sweaty bodies permeated the air. Her hips lifted, urging him deeper on the down stroke, her heels digging into his buttocks, her cunt milking his driving flesh. Each stroke drove her higher and higher, heating her core. When his fingers once again found her clit, she shattered in his arms, her orgasm flowing through her like molten lava. Her sheath contracted violently around his cock. Her body jerking, her cries little more than pleading whimpers, she barely heard his roar of completion above the pounding of her heart. Hot blasts of semen jetted inside her and still he kept thrusting, once, twice, three times. Finally, he was still. He kept his weight braced on his arms, kept his 44

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cock wedged inside her willing body. He lazily nuzzled her neck, placing kisses against her sweat-moistened skin, making her shiver. With one last nuzzle, he slowly withdrew from her body, eliciting moans from both of them. He turned onto his back and drew her into his arms, arranging her so she lay partially on top of him. Sam sighed and rubbed soft circles on his chest, taking care not to press too hard on his newly healed skin. “That was…wow.” His low laugh rumbled against her. “You don’t need to sound so surprised, cher.” His hand swept in slow strokes up and down her hip. “I’m not completely helpless between the sheets.” “I never thought you were,” she said with a small laugh. Then, unable to resist teasing him, she added, “Well, except for that really miniscule worry you might, you know, shoot your gun a little early.” “Why, you…” His rough, playful growl trailed off and a big hand swatted her on the behind. He smoothed over the spot with his palm, soothing the slight sting, and caught her mouth with his. After a long kiss that had both of them breathing heavily, he broke off and tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder. They cuddled in silence for a few moments. His sigh ruffled her hair. “You ready to talk to me now, cher? Tell me what’s going on?” Sam drew in a deep breath and held it a moment, then expelled it in rush. With security increased at the mining office, she had no hope of breaking in now. She had nothing to lose by telling him the truth. And she wanted to tell him, wanted to have no more secrets between them. “About three months ago, a friend of mine came across some information about the terbinium mining process. The dust is toxic.” “What do you mean, toxic?” Trey raised up on one elbow, dislodging her from his chest, and she grumbled at losing her comfortable spot. “It’s lethal?” “In large enough quantities, yes.” She sighed and rolled to her side. “In smaller quantities, it causes sterility.” 45

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He seemed surprised, as if he hadn’t heard anything of this, although if it was unsubstantiated—or kept quiet by authorities higher up on the food chain—he very well might not have. “And how did your friend find out?” “A scientist with CSG told him.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out from between pursed lips. The injustice of what had happened still burned within her. “And now they’re both dead.” She watched Trey’s face as he absorbed what she’d told him. They needed to get this out in the open. She had to know what he thought…about the terbinium, about the evidence, about her. “Are you saying someone at CSG had them killed?” He looked skeptical, his brows drawn down over dark eyes. She nodded. “The scientist was killed by a runaway hovercart, and Frank…” Sam swallowed back the tears and went on, her voice thick with remembered loss. “Frank was killed in a mugging two hours later.” Trey brushed her bangs across her forehead and placed a tender kiss at the corner of her right eye. “Cher, people in mining towns like this get killed all the time, both in accidents and at the hands of gangs. How can you be sure their deaths were related to CSG?” “You think it’s coincidence that the two men who knew the truth and were determined to expose it were killed within hours of each other?” Her voice rose at the end and she clenched her fists. Trey wasn’t arguing with her; he’d asked a legitimate question and she’d harangued him like a harpy. She brought her voice down a few notches. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” He shook his head and kissed her mouth. “No, you’re right. And I don’t believe in coincidences.” With a slight grunt, he turned over and sat up. The muscled contours of his back beckoned her and she was unable to keep from running her fingers up his spine. She loved the feel of his taut muscles, the warmth of his skin. When her hand reached the 46

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base of his neck, he reached around and took her fingers in his. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss to her palm. He looped her arm under his and held her hand. “Why didn’t your friend go to the authorities?” “Go to who?” she asked. “Everyone says all the officials are on the take. He didn’t know who to trust. Which is why,” she went on, seeing the question on his face, “I didn’t go to anyone, either.” “Which is why you’re not sure you can trust me,” he said, his voice soft. Sam couldn’t believe he could have made love to her with such care if he weren’t a good and decent man. She didn’t want to think she was the kind of woman who fell in love and lost complete sight of the type of man she was with. Her body stiffened with the realization. She was falling in love with Trey and, for her, that meant she had to trust him. She might have had her doubts about him, but she had to believe there was a logical explanation for his apparent lack of ethics where the restaurant was concerned. “I trust you.” He looked skeptical. “I do.” Sam tried to keep the sudden nervousness she felt from her voice. She did trust him. There was just that one little thing with the restaurant bill. “Uh-huh.” He twisted around so they partially faced each other. “You’ve had a problem with me since we first met.” Her gaze dropped to the soft quilt and she traced a line of stitching with her index finger. “Well, that was only because…” When she trailed off, he prompted, “Because?” She looked back up at him. “You never pay your bill!” He frowned in confusion. His eyes drifted up, then down, narrowing for a moment before his eyebrows raised with realization. “Ah. You’re talking about the restaurant.” A muscle in one lean cheek twitched. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I didn’t want people to know,” he muttered. “I loaned money to André so he could start up the 47

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restaurant, but the proud, stubborn… Well, he wouldn’t accept it as a gift, so I told him he could work off his loan, so to speak, by giving me free meals. I don’t ever expect him to repay the full amount.” Sam felt a rush of relief. She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. Her good guy was a good guy, after all. It was nice to know her instincts hadn’t let her down. She looked at him and asked, “Why didn’t you want anyone to know?” He grimaced and shrugged one shoulder. “Before leaving Earth, I was able to make some smart investments, and I made a lot of money.” Trey gestured toward the rest of the room. “I live pretty simply and don’t need much. I didn’t want people to make a fuss about it.” She smiled and placed a kiss on his shoulder. A good guy, and modest to boot. “Now, back to the terbinium problem,” he said, arching one eyebrow. He clearly didn’t want to talk about his generosity to his friend, and she let it drop. For now. She idly traced a pattern on his skin as he went on. “The only way to know for sure if what you’re saying is true—” “I’m not lying!” Sam interrupted, jerking away from him. She rolled off the bed and picked up her pants. Feeling their combined juices begin sliding down her thigh, she was loathe to put on her pants until she had a chance to clean up. “Where’s your bathroom?” Trey had stood when she’d pulled away from him. He motioned with one thumb over his left shoulder. “It’s through there. But, cher, I wasn’t saying you’re lying.” She held the pants in front of her, self-conscious now of her nudity. “You said—” “What I was going to say, if you’d let me finish, was that we need to get our hands on that disc to prove what you’re saying is true. I may not have phrased it in the best possible way.” He walked to her and pulled her into his arms, pants and all. He kissed her, lips moving 48

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gently, tongue twining with hers. When he drew away, he rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Why don’t you take a quick bath? I’ll make arrangements to get us in the office and then off world.” Even as the thought of taking a real bath made Sam nearly jump out of his arms to run to the bathroom, her pulse quickened and she pulled back to stare up at his face. “No, Trey! You can’t tell anyone. You can’t!” Her gut twisted with dread. “If they find out we know, they’ll kill us. Just like they did Frank.” Then what he’d said fully sunk in and she gasped. “What do you mean, we?” “If I break into the main office at CSG and help you recover information they’ve already killed at least two people for, I can’t stay here. Besides, I can help you get it to the right people.” She started to speak but he went on. “I want to help you, cher. I need to help you.” He held her gaze, his eyes intent on hers. “But I also need to talk to my boss, Samantha, let him know what’s going on.” “No!” How could she tell him she suspected his boss was less—or was it more?—than he appeared to be? “Please, Trey. You can’t tell him.” “He’s my boss. And my friend, cher.” He cupped her face, his thumbs rubbing over her cheeks. “He can help.” She jerked away from him. Dropping the pants across the end of the bed, she crossed her arms and hugged herself around the waist. There was no easy way to tell him, so she’d just…tell him. “Deacon Arbigast is not who he appears to be. His aura…” At the sight of his face closing up, she faltered. “You’re not gonna hit me with some kind of mumbo-jumbo, are you, cher?” He shook his head and crossed his arms in mirror of her stance, although his look was belligerent to her anxious one. “I had enough of that growin’ up on the bayou. Gris-gris and all that nonsense.” “It’s not mumbo-jumbo,” she defended, beginning to get angry. 49

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And more and more uncomfortable with his cum sliding down her thigh. She blew out a sigh and reached for something to wipe it up with. The closest thing at hand was his underwear. She grabbed them and swiped at her thigh, then wadded the material and handed it to him. He pursed his lips but took the garment without comment and dropped it back on the floor. If he didn’t like it… Tough. Without that particular distraction, she went on with the argument. “For God’s sake, your skin turns into armor and I can shoot fire from my hands. How much more of a stretch is it to believe there are other abilities the Enhanced—or even Normals—can have? Aura-reading is an ability that—” “Aura reading?” Trey snorted. When Sam put her fists on her hips and started to reply, he grimaced and held up his hands, though his eyes heated as he stared at her nudity. She felt her cheeks flush and resisted the urge to use her hands and arms to cover herself. He’d already seen her, very up close and personal. There wasn’t much point to modesty now. “Sorry, cher. I’m sorry.” He scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck. “Leftover shit from my childhood. Never mind me. Tell me what you were going to say.” Sam studied him and decided she’d let it slide, but they would definitely have a conversation about his childhood—and his unwillingness to talk about himself—later. “It’s just… Arbigast’s aura is always very black. He’s deceitful, Trey, and he carries a lot of hate inside.” “Hate for what?” “I don’t know. I’m not a mind reader.” Sam went to him and stroked her fingers down one lean cheek. His hand came up and held hers while he placed a kiss on her knuckles. “I don’t trust him,” she said. “I don’t think you should tell him.” His fingers tightened briefly on hers. “I have to tell him, Samantha. With the increased security, even though I am the captain of the guard, 50

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they’re not going to let me in without prior authorization.” He brought their hands down to his chest. “Besides, he’s my friend, my mentor. He took me in when I was thirteen and treated me like his son. I’d trust him with my life.” “That’s all well and good, Trey,” she murmured. “But you’ll also be trusting him with mine.”

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CHAPTER 7 Trey studied Samantha and realized two things immediately. One, she was completely serious about Deke and two, he was in love with her. That was the unnamed emotion he hadn’t wanted to look at too closely earlier. But he really couldn’t get around it. He was in love with Samantha… He paused, struck by the realization he didn’t know her surname. “What the hell is your last name, cher?” Her cheeks flared with red again. He could tell she was embarrassed she’d made love to him without him knowing her full name. He grinned. It didn’t bother him; he knew all he needed to know about her. She was feisty and smart and sexy as hell. “I’m sure I told you my name,” she muttered. “All you told me was ‘Sam.’ Or,” he paused, and a slow smile tilted his lips at the memory of the meeting, “‘you can call me Phoenix,’ you said.” 52

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She grinned even though the blush still heated her cheeks. With a roll of her eyes, she mumbled, “Burton.” He’d seen this woman in many moods. She was beautiful in her anger, breathtaking in her passion, and adorable in her embarrassment. He couldn’t wait to uncover every side of her multi-faceted personality. “Why don’t you take a quick bath, and I’ll make the calls.” He could see the idea of a real bath was appealing, but she seemed ready to continue the argument. “Samantha, please. He’s my friend.” Her lips tightened, but she gave a brief nod. She gathered her clothing from where the various pieces lay scattered on the floor, giving him an enticing view of her shapely ass as she bent, then she headed toward the bathroom. A knock sounded on his door and he hurriedly drew on his uniform pants. He waited until the bathroom door clanged shut behind Samantha before he opened the outer door. Deke Arbigast stood there, holding a small, rectangular box in one hand. A wide grin creased his face. “I was hoping I’d catch you at home,” he said, extending the box toward Trey. “Here.” Reflexively, Trey took the box. He stared at his friend, wondering if Samantha was right about him. The other man wasn’t acting any different. He didn’t look any different. Trey’s gut tightened with tension. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t be the man he was today if it hadn’t been for Deke. He opened his mouth to ask what was in the box. Valerius Wolfe stepped into sight and Trey paused. What the hell was the rookie doing here? The man had only been on the squad eight months and hadn’t really shown any interest in socializing with any of them. Well, at least not with Trey. But now here The Wolf was, standing on his doorstep with a friendly grin, acting like he and the boss were best friends. What the hell was going on? Had Wolfe found out something about Samantha? He’d just have to wait and see. And pray Samantha stayed put in the 53

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bathroom. “You gonna invite us in?” Deke shouldered his way inside and thumbed over his shoulder. “Come on in, Wolfe.” To Trey he said, “Open the damned box already.” Trey closed the door behind the two men and looked down at the box. He slowly flipped it open. Inside was another service medal like the original, with one difference. This one was about a third larger. He glanced at Deke. “Why’s this one bigger?” Deke shrugged and walked into the kitchen. “I figured, since your first one was ruined, you were owed.” He punched a button on a small replication unit and spoke into the comm panel. “Two brown ales, cold.” The unit whirred and then clicked, and he reached in and pulled out two tall glasses of frothy ale. He took a sip from one and looked at Trey. At seeing his raised eyebrow, he said, “What?” “Help yourself, mon ami.” Trey shook his head and looked back down at the box in his hand. Now was the time to tell him about Samantha’s suspicions about the terbinium, but he found himself strangely reluctant to do it. He clenched his jaw. Dammit. He was letting Samantha’s paranoia affect him. “I always do, don’t I?” came the dry response from Deke. He wandered into the living area and plopped down on the sofa, and put his feet on the coffee table. One of the ales he gave to Wolfe, the other he took a long drag from, then set the glass on the table and swiped his hand across his mouth to wipe off foam. “So?” he asked, nodding toward the box. “What do you think of it?” Trey stared at the medal. Amidst the emotions swirling through him, he felt pride at his achievement, though it was now tempered with doubt. “But if this is what caused my armor to not work, I’m not sure I want another one.” “Are you kidding?” Wolfe walked over and peered into the box. “That’s quite an accomplishment, Obsidian. You should be proud to 54

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wear it.” “Go on.” Deke put his feet on the floor and leaned forward. “See if you can activate your enhancement.” Trey concentrated, feeling the tingling in his skin that signaled the beginning of his transformation. In the span of three heartbeats, his skin was smooth and hard and black. “It worked.” Releasing his enhancement, his skin turned back to normal. He shook his head. He was stumped, for sure. “I don’t understand. I was so sure it was this.” Looking over at his boss, he asked, “What else could it have been?” “Maybe it was because it got wet.” Deke pushed himself off the couch and walked over. Tilting his glass, he poured a small amount of ale onto the medal. All three men stared at it. When nothing happened to the service award, Deke suggested, “Try again.” Trey activated his enhancement and, as before, it worked flawlessly, as it should. He returned to normal. “Hmm.” Deke looked just as confused, as did Wolfe. And was it Trey’s imagination, or did his boss, at least, also look a little disappointed? Trey’s internal radar started humming. He didn’t like that look, didn’t like it at all. “Well, maybe it was just a fluke. A one-time thing.” Deke returned to the sofa and sat down, his feet going back up on the coffee table. After taking a sip of ale, he asked, “What’s the status on the fire starter?” “Yeah, I haven’t been able to find out too much about her yet.” Wolfe went over and sat on the opposite end of the sofa. “Whoever she is, people aren’t talking.” “What else do you know about her, Trey?” Deke looked at him expectantly. Trey glanced at the closed bathroom door. He had to believe his old friend wasn’t what Samantha feared. Deke was as up front as anyone 55

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he’d ever met. With a heavy sigh, he sat in a padded armchair across from his boss. He placed the small box with his service award on the coffee table and ignored the clenching of his gut that told him he was making a mistake. “She’s been trying to steal a data disc from CSG’s main office that shows the mining process for terbinium is toxic.” Deke frowned and leaned forward. “What?” He set his glass on the table and his frown deepened. “And just how does she purport to know that?” The response sounded more like a confirmation of fact than surprise or disbelief at the claim. Trey refused to believe Samantha could be right about his old friend. He arched his neck to one side, then the other, trying to relieve the tightness that had crept into his neck and shoulders. God, it shouldn’t be this hard to share such vital information with his boss, but he felt like every word was being dragged out of him. “Apparently someone shared the information with her and told her where the documentation was.” “And where is this person now?” Deke stood and went around to the back of the sofa. He paced the length of it, then back again. Trey realized the other man kept his face turned away, and he wondered at it. “We should question him,” Deke said. “That’ll be rather difficult,” Trey muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck. Now in addition to the tightness in his muscles, the hair on his nape was standing on end. What the fuck! “He’s dead,” he said at Deke’s questioning glance. Wolfe took a gulp of his ale. He placed one arm along the back of the sofa and crossed one leg over the other, resting his ankle on his knee. Trey noticed the other man looking around his quarters, nostrils flaring every once in awhile as if he were tracking a scent. Trey’s heart pounded and he forced a calm expression while inside he was starting to get a little worried. He hadn’t thought about The Wolf’s enhancement. With his damned keen sense of smell, he 56

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probably knew Trey’d just had sex. He might even be able to hear the water splashing in the bathroom as Samantha took her bath. To a person with normal hearing, the bathroom was pretty much soundproofed. But to someone like Wolfe, whose enhancements included elevated senses of smell and hearing… Fuck. This could all be over before it began. Deke muttered a curse, drawing Trey’s attention back to him. Trey noticed his boss continued to keep his face turned away. So Trey couldn’t see his expression? “Well, then,” Deke said, “we need to question the fire starter. Where is she?” His voice held a strange note that Trey didn’t like. What it was he couldn’t put his finger on, but all the same… Finally paying attention to his gut, Trey responded with a vague, “I really can’t say.” Not fully the truth, but not exactly a lie, either. It was more of a choice. If Samantha was wrong about his friend, he’d settle with his conscience later. He just hoped she stayed put in the bathroom until he could get rid of these two. Rising to his feet, he walked over to the outer door and opened it. “But I’ll be getting right on that.” Deke grinned, but to Trey it looked forced. “All right, all right. I can take a hint.” He walked toward the door. “Not that holding the door open for me to leave is exactly subtle.” Waiting for Wolfe to precede him, he paused in the doorway and added, “Keep me posted, all right?” Trey nodded and tried to summon a smile, but it just wasn’t in him. “You bet.” His friend studied him with narrowed eyes. “I’ve known you a long time, buddy, and I’ve got a feeling you’re holding something back. Are you, Obsidian?” At the use of his code name, Trey set his jaw and looked his boss in the eyes. “No, sir. I’ve told you everything.” Except for the fact that the fire starter was taking a bath in his bathroom at the moment, but that really was such a small little detail. 57

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So miniscule, in fact, it wasn’t worth mentioning. Deke drew in a sharp breath through his nose and let it out in a short huff. “All right. I’ll expect an update ASAP, Captain.” He nodded toward the medal, sitting in its box on the coffee table. “Make sure you put that on next time you’re on the job. It’s part of your uniform now.” Without waiting for a response from Trey, he turned and walked away. Wolfe stared at Trey for a moment, then pointedly looked over Trey’s shoulder and slowly raised one dark brow. Then he, too, sauntered off. Trey closed the door and leaned his forehead against it. Damn. From that last look, he was sure Wolfe had smelled Samantha. Why hadn’t he said anything? What fucking game was he playing? When he heard a noise behind him, he turned to see Samantha standing there, a towel wrapped around her slender body. “I started to open the door but then heard voices. I, ah, thought I should wait until after they left.” Tilting her head to one side, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell them I was here?” He walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. “Somehow, I had a feeling that would be a bad thing.” His mouth closed over hers, lips gently seeking, tongue softly probing. God, he loved kissing this woman. When he drew back, she sighed and nestled against his chest. “We have to go get the disc, Trey. You told them about it. I don’t know the other man, but if Arbigast is what I think he is…” She frowned at him, irritation flashing in her eyes. “I really wish you hadn’t told them.” Trey’s shoulders lifted with his heavy sigh. “I felt I had to,” he said, but admitted, “I wish I hadn’t. I should’ve trusted your instincts.” He thought back to his conversation with the two men. “I don’t like the way Deke was acting.” “And the other guy?” “Valerius Wolfe—The Wolf. He’s Enhanced.” With a feeling of 58

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dread, he knew they had to get moving. If Arbigast was as bad as Samantha feared, he would be planning to retrieve the disc. They needed to go. Now. Trey turned her around and pushed her forward, giving her ass a sharp swat. He grinned at her loud “Hey!” and told her, “Get dressed and we’ll go.” She threw him a look over her shoulder, one that promised payback, and he felt his cock twitch in anticipation. He watched her saunter back into the bathroom and, just as she reached the doorway, she dropped the towel, giving him a delectable but too-brief glance at her naked backside. With a grin still on his face, he wandered back to the coffee table and picked up the box holding his medal. His grin faded as he stared down at it and he wondered again if the terbinium had anything to do with his armor not working. But when he concentrated, his skin hardened on cue. “When you do that,” Samantha said from behind him, making him turn, “can you control how much of you, um, hardens?” She was dressed in her black outfit again and had one eyebrow raised. Her bluegray eyes sparkled with merriment and not a little lust. Trey released his enhancement and, as his skin returned to normal, he dropped one eyelid in a slow wink. “That’s for me to know, cher,” he drawled, delighted with her playfulness, “and you to find out.”

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CHAPTER 8 Fifteen minutes later, Sam held tightly to Trey’s hand as they walked down the street that led to the mining office. She had harangued him nearly the entire walk to answer her question about his enhancement, but he’d refused, merely sending her enigmatic glances and sexy little winks. If she weren’t so crazy about him, she would’ve cuffed him upside the head more than once. But he’d looked so playful, so boyish for those few short moments, she couldn’t hold it against him. And she was determined she’d find out, sooner or later. The more layers of this complex man she uncovered, the deeper she fell in love. And now, perhaps walking into the most dangerous situation she was ever to find herself in, she teased him and he reciprocated in order to deal with the rising tension. They were about to confront his colleagues, perhaps even his boss, and would find out if her suspicions were correct. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and looked to her 60

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left. But nothing was there. She stared harder and it seemed like the shadows moved in on each other, but that was it. She drew in a breath and held it a moment. Get a grip, girl, she admonished herself. You’re jumping at shadows . She glanced at her lover. He had dressed in his uniform in order to better secure entrance to the mining office. Before they’d left his quarters, he’d pinned his new service medal to his shirt and several times she’d see him rub it with his index finger. He was proud of that medal, and she was proud of him. She’d never had an opportunity to hold a job for very long, let alone long enough to be awarded for her service. As they neared the office, Trey slowed and then stopped. “Something’s not right,” he muttered, letting loose of her hand. “Where are the guards? There should be a man on the door.” “Maybe Arbigast didn’t increase the security?” Sam really didn’t mean for it to come out sounding so squeaky, and when Trey looked at her she shrugged. “So? I’m a little spooked,” she groused. “It’s dark out here. And creepy. And did I mention dark?” He lightly touched her cheek, but didn’t take the opening to tease her. He was sliding into his officer persona right before her eyes. “No, he would’ve increased the security all right. I don’t like this.” His dark brows drawn into a frown, he stared at the door. His right hand came up and he rubbed his thumb back and forth over the pearly centerpiece of his service medal while he studied the area. Finally he seemed to come to a decision. “Come on, Samantha. We don’t have any other choice. We’re going in. Stay behind me, though,” he added. Sam grimaced at him. “Protecting the little woman, eh, Obsidian?” At least he hadn’t told her to stay behind while he waded into danger alone. He would’ve had an entirely different fight on his hands then. “Careful, cher.” His voice dropped to the deep, rough bass she’d first heard from him and he dragged her into his arms. He took her 61

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mouth in a hard, possessive kiss, his tongue sweeping between her lips with erotically brutal demand. “You might be able to blast your way through things with fire, but I’m still bigger than you.” “Bigger and badder,” she teased, and licked lightly across his bottom lip. “Bad-ass super-hero Obsidian, come to save the day. Oh, yeah, and the side-kick, what’s-her-name, came along, too.” He pulled back and took her face in his hands. “Don’t sell yourself short to me, even in jest, Samantha.” His lips came down on hers gently, briefly. “I couldn’t love just anyone, you know.” She leaned into him, and then what he said registered. Her heart began pounding hard and fast behind her ribs. Sam jerked back so fast she almost lost her balance. Only his hands wrapped around her upper arms kept her on her feet. “What did you just say?” Trey’s eyes were dark pools of swirling emotion, and his aura flared brightly as he said, “I love you.” When Sam opened her mouth to respond in kind, to tell him everything threatening to burst from her overflowing heart, he put two fingers over her lips. “Don’t. Not yet,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel you have to reply because of the situation.” He kissed her again, then took her hand. “Tell me later, when the adrenaline rush has faded.” She frowned. “Wait a minute there, bud. It’s okay for you to tell me how you feel about me, but I can’t tell you?” He pursed his lips and his shoulders lifted in a sheepish shrug. His gaze held hers. “I know what I feel isn’t based on the dangerous situation we find ourselves in. I want to be sure what you feel is real, too. So, let’s just wait, all right? You can tell me when this is all over.” If she hadn’t seen the uncertainty in his eyes, she would’ve lambasted him there and then. Instead, she tapped him on the chin. “When this is all over, Mr. Treyva, we’re gonna talk about your damned arrogance, is what we’ll do. And your timing, which sucks, by the way. You can’t tell a woman you love her and not let her savor the 62

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moment.” She bit back a grin at his startled look. Quickly sobering, she took a deep breath. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get this over with.” He nodded, his face taut with tension. “Stay behind me.” Even with fear rising within, she couldn’t keep from rolling her eyes while she obediently fell into step behind him. Yep. They’d definitely be having a talk after this. She pushed back any doubt they’d survive. They had to. She wouldn’t accept the idea she could find love and have it yanked from her grasp. The Universe had dealt her some real crap in the past, but she couldn’t believe it would be that cruel. Well, she could, but if came down to it, she would fight with every last scrap of energy she had. Never give in, never give up. Trey eased open the door. She followed close behind, hands at the ready. At the first sign of trouble, she was blasting whoever got in their way, whether Trey liked it or not. Even if it was Deke Arbigast. They walked down the hallway, their boots making little noise on the gray slab floor. At the open doorway of the main office, Trey paused, his head tilted, listening. After a few moments, he slowly looked around the edge of the doorframe. “Obsidian,” came a male voice from within the office. She recognized it from earlier: Deacon Arbigast. “I’ve been expecting you. Come in, won’t you?” Trey kept one hand behind his back and made a gesture for her to stay, then he dropped his hands to his sides and sauntered into the room. Sam inched closer to the door and heard Trey ask, “What’re you doing here, Deke?” “Waiting for you.” Arbigast’s voice held a note of amusement mixed with irritation. “Bring in your little fire starter, too.” “I’m here alone.” “Uh-uh.” Arbigast’s voice raised a notch. “Bring her in, Wolfe.” 63

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Two big hands wrapped around Sam’s wrists and yanked her arms behind her back. Somehow, the man had snuck up behind her and, with her attention focused on Trey and Arbigast, she hadn’t heard him at all. He folded her hands together, palms facing each other so she couldn’t blast him. She fought against his hold, grunting with exertion, but found herself being roughly shoved into the room. She twisted as much as she could to look at her captor. Her eyebrows shot up to see a man bigger and taller than Trey. A thin scar ran from the corner of his left eye, down his cheek and ended at the tip of his chin. He looked strong and determined and dangerous. So this was The Wolf, the newest member of the Security Elite squad. Her breath came quick and shallow. She concentrated on her breathing, trying to keep from hyperventilating. She’d do herself and Trey no good if she passed out. “Keep those hands of hers behind her,” Arbigast said. Sam looked back at him. He sat in a relaxed pose on the corner of the desk, a laser gun pointed at Trey. At his instruction, the big lug tightened his hold on her wrists with a grip that stole her breath. She clenched her jaw, damned if she’d give either of these two lunkheads the satisfaction of hearing her whimper at the pain. Plus, with the way Trey looked at how she was being treated, she didn’t want to do anything to make him do something rash, like charge a man holding a laser weapon. Trey’s eyes were narrowed, his jaw held tight, fists clenched at his sides. He was ready to do damage to someone and could get himself killed if he wasn’t careful. “And you,” Arbigast said to Trey, “don’t even try to activate your goddamned enhancement, or I’ll cut her in half.” Arbigast straightened and walked forward a few steps. He pointed the laser gun at Sam for a moment, then moved it to target Trey’s temple. The silver barrel of the weapon glinted from the overhead lights. With his finger over the 64

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trigger, he looked at Sam. “I’ve already searched all the data discs,” he said, nodding toward the computer console. “You tell me exactly where that file is, or Trey here’s dead man.” Before she could respond, Trey asked, “What do you care?” in a hard, tight voice. As Arbigast turned his full attention away from her and toward her lover, Sam stiffened at the look of utter contempt and hatred that passed over his face. She knew then, with absolute certainty, this man hated Trey. “You’re an arrogant son of a bitch, you know that, Trey?” Arbigast walked a few steps closer and put the tip of his weapon on Trey’s chest, directly over his heart. “At first, when you were a kid, I honestly didn’t care about the Enhanced problem. But as you got older, and stronger, and better… Well, I came to think differently.” Trey’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief to hurt in rapid succession, finally ending in bewilderment. It broke her heart. “So you faked it all these years, Deke?” His voice was rough, anger clear in his tone. He paused, and Sam saw his Adam’s apple bob with his hard swallow. When he spoke again, his voice was softened by the betrayal he must surely feel. “You were like a father to me.” Arbigast gave a harsh bark of laughter. “A father! God, you make me sick. As if I could ever be a father to a freak like you.” He stepped back and leaned his ass against the desk, keeping the weapon pointed at Trey. “You’re all just a bunch of genetic mutations that should be disposed of.” Sam felt the man behind her stiffen. Maybe he didn’t like what he was hearing any more than she did. That could be useful. Except he hadn’t loosened his grip on her, so she still couldn’t use her flames. Arbigast looked at her and she caught her breath at the madness in his eyes. His aura had shifted, too, becoming a rainbow of dull, lifeless reds, yellows and blues with black wisps floating through it. It was such a jumble of violent anger, deep jealousy and arrogant self65

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righteousness she was amazed he’d been able to keep his true feelings hidden for as long as he had. This was a man who wouldn’t think twice about murdering them because they were different from him. She didn’t dare look at Trey to see how he was taking this. “Now, Miss…” Arbigast paused and tilted his head. “I didn’t catch your name.” Some imp of perversity made her mutter, “You can call me Phoenix.” She wiggled her fingers and, when Wolfe tightened his already brutal grip, she winced and muttered a curse. “Don’t be cute.” Wolfe leaned down and spoke into her ear. The hand around her wrists loosened slightly. “You do not want to provoke him.” “Listen to Wolfe, you little mutant bitch.” Arbigast gestured toward Trey with the weapon. “I’d just as soon laser through his heart as anything. So don’t push me.” She narrowed her eyes. As much as she didn’t like Trey calling her “little girl,” she’d rather hear that than “little mutant bitch.” “So, I’ll ask again. Where’s the disc?” Sam knew Arbigast would kill the both of them once he had what he wanted. Why he wanted it, he still hadn’t answered. “I don’t understand why you want it.” “You don’t need to know.” Arbigast’s narrow face tightened and fury darkened his eyes. He crossed his legs at the ankles and leaned back, bracing himself with one hand on the desk. The other hand remained steady, pointing his weapon at Trey. “Just tell me where it is, or watch him die.” Sam’s breath hitched at the absolute hatred in the man’s gaze. It wouldn’t take much for him to kill them and just search for the disc on his own. Behind her, Wolfe shifted and his fingers relaxed fractionally more. Sam darted a glance at Trey and saw his stance was becoming more aggressive, as if he were preparing to rush his former friend. He 66

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met her gaze, his eyes full of pain at his mentor’s betrayal and love for her. She gritted her teeth and wiggled her hands again. Dammit. If she had her hands free, she’d blast this lunatic to hell. “I’d still like to know why you want it, Deke.” Trey’s voice was soft and steady, showing none of the growing anger she saw in his aura. “You owe me that much.” Arbigast scowled and straightened so fast he pushed the desk back by several centimeters. “I don’t owe you a damned thing.” He leveled the weapon at Trey’s chest and looked back at Sam. “Enough stalling. Tell me where the goddamned disc is, or I will shoot him.” Sam stared at Trey. He gave a minute shake of his head, so she remained stubbornly silent, hoping his enhancement would withstand the cut of the laser weapon. Arbigast shrugged. “Fine. Have it your way. I don’t mind killing one of you freaks. It’ll be like taking out the garbage.” He tilted his head to one side and made a show of studying Trey. “But not too fast. Slowly, I think. Maybe I’ll start with his shoulder, just to show you I mean business.” She was watching Trey so closely she caught the flare of panic in his eyes and knew with sickening certainty he was trying to activate his body armor and it wasn’t working. Oh, dear God. She struggled against Wolfe’s hold, nearly weeping with frustration when his grip didn’t break. Arbigast laughed. “Your enhancement’s not working, is it, buddy?” With his free hand, he pointed to the service award attached to Trey’s collar. “Bet you’ve been fingering that thing, haven’t you? So proud of your achievement.” When Trey didn’t respond, he shrugged. “You don’t get it, do you? Just like that old story of Superman and kryptonite, your Achilles’ heel is terbinium.” 67

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CHAPTER 9 Ignoring Trey’s shocked reaction, Deke Arbigast went on. “I started thinking about the failure of your enhancement to activate after your encounter with Flame-Girl, here. Before and after, the only thing different was your service award. When I gave you the new medal, with a larger piece of terbinium,” he winked and grinned at his own cleverness, “and it didn’t react to getting wet, I knew it had to be something else. Then I remembered the way you kept touching the damned thing the first time I gave it to you.” He nodded in satisfaction. “Because you didn’t take the second one out of the box and your enhancement,” he sneered the word, “kept right on working, I figured that had to be it, the reason your armor failed. It takes contact with your skin for the terbinium to affect you. Seems I was right.” Before any of them knew what he was about, he pulled the trigger on the weapon. The powerful laser cut into Trey’s left shoulder and the force of it knocked him to the floor. Trey yelled as white heat streaked 68

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through him. His hand came up and pressed against the wound, which bled profusely, and he clenched his jaw against a groan of pain. Samantha screamed and renewed her struggle against Wolfe’s hold. “Let me go!” Arbigast walked over to her and tilted her head back with the tip of the laser weapon under her chin. “Now, do I have your attention?” When she nodded, he smiled, a slow movement of thin, cruel lips. He pointed the weapon at Trey again. “I will ask you one more time. Where’s the disc?” “Don’t tell him, cher.” Trey tried to get to his feet, but the pain from his wound made him dizzy. He shook his head, trying to dispel the wooziness. He couldn’t allow Deke or Wolfe to hurt Samantha. He cast his mind about for a way to distract the men, a way he could possibly gain control of the weapon. Nothing came to his pain-fogged mind. “Oh, she’ll tell me. Won’t you, Phoenix?” Arbigast took her chin in one hand and held her face as he leaned in. “You wouldn’t want your stubbornness to cost Obsidian his life, would you?” When Sam didn’t respond right away to his question, Deke let go of her face and turned back toward Trey. Without a word, without a change of expression, he pulled the trigger again. The laser cut into Trey’s chest, just below his hand where it clasped his shoulder. Trey couldn’t stop the moan of pain and, at that sound, Sam shouted, “All right! All right.” She stared at Trey, her eyes shiny with tears. “I’ll tell you. Just…don’t hurt him any more.” Deke lowered the weapon to his side. Trey could see Sam warring with herself. She knew as well as he did that they were both dead as soon as she gave up the information. Behind her, Wolfe’s face hardened and his eyes darted from Trey to Arbigast, then back to Trey. Wolfe seemed to be trying to tell him something, but pain clouded his perception and Trey wasn’t able to 69

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clearly focus his mind on the situation. He tried to push the pain aside. Samantha stared over Deke’s shoulder and her eyes widened momentarily. When he followed the line of her gaze, he saw nothing. For a second he thought he saw a shadow where one shouldn’t be, but when he blinked it was gone. She sighed. Her shoulders slumped forward and she looked toward the corner of the room, behind the desk. “It’s there. In the wall.” Deke turned to look. Glancing back at Wolfe, he told him, “Keep a good hold on her. And watch him.” He nodded toward Trey. Trey struggled to a sitting position. With his bloody hand braced on the floor, he got to his knees in preparation to stand. “Uh-uh, Obsidian,” Wolfe cautioned him. “Stay down.” Deke glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, Obsidian. Stay down. Or I’ll put you down. Permanently.” He looked at Samantha and put one hand on the wall in front of him. “Where exactly?” Her gaze slid to Trey. He saw the love he hadn’t let her share, and he regretted his high-handedness now. She and Deke were right. He was arrogant. Sam looked back at Deke. Just as she was about to give it up, tell him exactly where the disc was hidden, she felt Wolfe’s fingers completely fall away from her wrists. Without thought, she whirled and activated her enhancement, sending a burst of fire toward him. He muttered a curse and ducked, but not before she singed his eyebrows. Then she turned her enhancement on Arbigast. Since he was in the corner, he had nowhere to go to escape. As fire licked up his arm, greedily consuming the material of his shirt, he dropped the laser weapon. “You fucking bitch!” he screamed, frantically beating at the flames. “I’ll kill you.” She headed toward Trey, hands outstretched to help him. “Get out of here, Samantha.” Trey started to struggle to his feet. She slipped her shoulder under his arm and helped him up. “I’m not 70

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leaving without you.” “There’s no time.” He shoved her toward the door. “Please. For me. Go.” Wolfe started toward her and Sam knew if he caught her again she and Trey were both dead. She ran. Down the corridor, turning a corner, Sam stopped and caught her breath. She had to go back; she couldn’t just leave Trey there to die. As fanatical as Arbigast was, he would take pleasure in making the death a very slow and very painful one. It wasn’t going to happen. Not if she had anything to do with it. Her eyes darted back and forth, seeking a way to save Trey while her mind churned, trying to formulate a plan. She heard footsteps pounding down the hallway. Convinced Wolfe had given chase, she started running again. Farther and farther into the complex she went, until she reached one of the shafts that lead deep into the earth, into the mine. She had to make her stand here. Now. Turning, she fisted her hands and prepared herself. She’d never taken a life before, but to save Trey, she would. Never give in, never give up. The footsteps approached and slowed. She brought her hands up. Her fingers and palms tingled and began to glow. Heart thudding against her ribs, mouth dry, she waited. “Sammy?” A man’s form slowly became visible as he deactivated his chameleon-like ability. It was Charlie. She’d thought she’d seen a glimpse of him, back in the office, but the impression had been so fleeting she’d told herself she was imagining things. Looking for a rescue party where there was none. “What are you doing here?” she muttered. She kept her palms facing outward, not sure of anyone anymore. What the hell was going on? “Simmer down, hon.” Charlie walked closer, his hands up in a 71

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gesture of surrender. “I’m on your side.” When she stared at him, not responding, he slowly lowered his hands to his sides. “Remember that military training I alluded to when we first met?” She nodded and he continued. “I’ve been, ah, pressed into service again, for a special assignment.” Sam blinked. “‘The Enhanced problem?’” she asked, quoting Arbigast. She’d known Charlie a long time, before either of them had ever made their way to New Chance. If he was involved in this, it was to help, not hinder. He nodded. “Exactly.” When she lowered her hands, he heaved a sigh. “Damn, girl, but you scared me. There for a minute I thought you were gonna blast me.” She didn’t want to admit to him she’d thought about it. “But what are you doing here?” “I’m helping Wolfe.” “What?” She started to bring her hands up. Had she been wrong about Charlie? He was helping The Wolf? “Whoa, there, darlin’.” Charlie retreated a couple of steps and his hands came back up to shoulder height. “Wolfe and I were partners, way back when. He’s an Interstellar Marshal.” Sam stared at Charlie, trying to take it all in. The biggest thing that kept playing through her mind was how Wolfe had stood by and let Trey get shot. Twice. “If that’s true, he’s a pretty inept one. Trey could’ve been killed. He could be dead now.” She swallowed back tears at that thought. Charlie shook his head. “Wolfe won’t let that happen.” At her skeptical look, he frowned. “Look, things didn’t exactly go as planned in there, I’ll admit. But believe me when I say Wolfe’s one of the best.” “Then we’re in trouble,” she muttered, and relaxed her hands once more. Charlie snorted and walked toward her. Once he reached her side, 72

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he put one hand on her shoulder and lightly squeezed. “Come on, hon. Let’s get back to your man and save the day. What do you say?” *

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Trey held his hand on his shoulder and kept pressure on the wounds, gritting his teeth against the pain. Sorting through the last few minutes, he realized Wolfe had deliberately let Samantha go. It could be that the other man hadn’t realized Deke meant to kill them, or he had a change of heart once their boss started calling them freaks. Whatever it was, Trey hoped it meant the odds had shifted in his and Samantha’s favor. Deke was stalking back and forth, cursing like a freight hauler, his weapon wavering between Trey and Wolfe. His free hand ran gingerly over the blistered skin on his arm where Samantha’s flames had burned him. “What was that about?” he finally asked Wolfe. “You deliberately let her go.” “Yes, sir.” Wolfe stood tall, his hands relaxed at his sides. “I couldn’t let you kill an innocent woman.” “She’s not innocent. She’s a goddamned freak.” Deke took a deep breath and seemed to get control of his anger. “I should’ve known I couldn’t trust a fucking Enhanced.” He pointed the weapon at Wolfe. “Guess you’ve chosen your side, you traitorous son of a bitch. I don’t have a problem killing you, too.” Wolfe’s relaxed stance never changed. Trey slowly shifted, getting his feet carefully under him while Deke’s attention was focused on the other man. At least Samantha was safe. If this went bad, he could take comfort in knowing she’d gotten away. “Tell me why you want the disc,” Wolfe said. His deep voice was calm, soft, the kind of tone used to talk to someone intent on committing suicide—or killing their hostages. Deke’s eyes narrowed. Then he shrugged. Clearly feeling he had 73

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the upper hand—which, looking at the weapon held steadily in his hand, Trey couldn’t necessarily disagree with the assessment—he leaned against the desk again. “I already know what the data on the disc reveals. I found out quite by accident that the mining process for terbinium is toxic.” He grinned. “That’s a joke, by the way, gentlemen. The two other men who knew died by ‘accident.’” Trey’s heart lurched. Poor Samantha. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to tell her Arbigast was involved in her friend’s death. He wasn’t sure it mattered anymore. Hell, Arbigast had fooled him his entire life. Why did it surprise him to find out he’d killed two innocent men? Deke continued, his tone full of pride. “It causes sterility in women. Well, hallelujah!” He laughed, though his face remained sober. “Finally, a solution to the Enhanced problem, one that we could actually use this time, since the bleeding heart liberals in the Coalition would never be in favor of outright euthanasia.” He raised one eyebrow and smirked. “Which was brought forth as a solution, by the way, before they settled on the exile idea. Not sure either of you knew that.” “The government hasn’t agreed to this plan, either. They can’t have.” While Trey wasn’t naïve and absolutely believed corruption and greed greased the wheels, he couldn’t believe—wouldn’t believe—his elected officials would agree to doing away with the Enhanced through attrition. Although, seeing the way he’d fallen for his boss’ feigned friendship, perhaps he was naïve, after all. Deke scowled. “There are enough who feel the way I do so that we can make sure you don’t breed.” “That’s not your decision to make,” Wolfe stated, his voice hard. He sounded angry. Too bad his enhancement—heightened hearing and smell—was of no benefit to them here. Arbigast shook his head, a look of exaggerated confusion on his face. He glanced at Trey with raised eyebrows. “I am surrounded by 74

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idiots.” Looking back at Wolfe, he said, “Of course it’s my decision. As a responsible citizen, it’s my right and responsibility to protect the purity of the human race. Every time one of you damned freaks has a baby, it’s just another erosion of our purity.” Arbigast’s mouth twisted as if he had a sour taste in his mouth. “Why are you so afraid of us?” Trey asked. “I’m not afraid of you, you mutated bastard. I just don’t like you.”

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CHAPTER 10 “So, what’s the plan?” Wolfe crossed his arms. The man looked relaxed as if they were discussing the latest hover races instead of being in the last moments of their lives. “I want that disc. It’s what we need to ensure the Enhanced problem is dealt with once and for all. Get the terbinium dust and get it into every nook and cranny where you freaks are hiding.” Deke straightened and pointed the laser weapon at Wolfe. “You go find the girl and bring her back here. I want that fucking disc.” “What does the disc have on it that you don’t already know?” Trey drew Deke’s attention away from Wolfe with the question. From the corner of his eye he saw The Wolf drop his arms to his sides and shift his stance incrementally, putting his weight on one foot in preparation to launch himself at Deke. It looked like the odds had, indeed, shifted in his favor. “The formula for an antidote that not only combats the toxicity, but 76

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reverses the sterility it causes.” Trey heard Wolfe draw in a sharp breath and knew exactly how he felt. Fucking CSG. How far up the echelons was the conspiracy? How long had they known? And just how fucking far were they willing to go? Glancing at Deke, he realized some of them, his erstwhile friend included, were willing to go as far as it took. Deke looked back at Wolfe. “So, you see, I need that disc. Go. Get. The. Girl. Or this time, I will kill him.” While Deke’s attention was focused on the other man, Trey made his move. With a grunt, he launched himself at Deke’s legs and managed to knock him off balance. However, he didn’t go down and the weapon never left his hand. Wolfe moved forward, but stopped when the laser gun pointed his way. Trey read the intent on Deke’s face and knew he was going to kill Wolfe. When he reached for Deke, he was met with a large foot shoved against his injured shoulder. Trey yelled at the pain and fell back. He struggled to get upright again. The gun swung his way and he froze. Deke grunted and his arms swung up and he seemed to be struggling to bring them down. From the doorway, Trey heard Samantha shout, “Charlie, get out of the way!” When Deke’s hands came down, grasping the weapon, flames streamed from the open doorway straight at him. He shouted and threw up his hands to protect his face. It was over in a matter of seconds. Wolfe grabbed the laser weapon and tossed it into the far corner. He had Deke on the floor and cuffed by the time Samantha came into the room. She headed straight toward Trey and, as he struggled to his feet, she put her shoulder under his arm on his uninjured side and helped him up. Weak from the loss of blood, he leaned heavily on her as she helped him to the chair behind the desk. He looked up to see a strange older man resting his rump on the corner of the desk, his arms crossed over 77

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his chest and a smug, satisfied smile on his wizened face. Wolfe pulled out an identification placket and flashed his shield. “Valerius Wolfe, Stellar Marshal. Sorry to put you through that, folks.” He grinned at Charlie. “Thanks for your help, Mr. Farley. Couldn’t have done it without you.” Looking at Samantha, he asked, “Could I have the disc, please, ma’am?” Motioning toward his face, she muttered, “Sorry ’bout that.” He reached up and stroked one finger lightly over his brow-line, now almost devoid of hair. His lips twitched and he said, “Don’t worry about it. I guess I deserved it.” He pointed to her wrists, which still bore the marks of his fingers. “I apologize for my treatment of you. I had to make Arbigast believe I was with him. I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.” Samantha shook her head. “I’m all right.” Her hand stroked over Trey’s cheek, then she went to the corner where she’d directed Deke earlier. “May I use the laser?” she asked. At Wolfe’s nod, Charlie retrieved it and handed it to her. He sat again on the desk. As she cut away a section of the wall, Trey glared at Wolfe. “Wait just a goddamned minute,” Trey snarled. His shoulder hurt like hell and he didn’t much care if he sounded ungrateful for the man having just helped to save his life. He glared at Wolfe. “You’re a goddamned marshal?” Trey was astonished. Valerius Wolfe had struck him as many things in the eight months they’d worked together, but a by-thebook marshal wasn’t one of the things that had made his top ten. Hell, it hadn’t even made his list. Wolfe gave a brisk nod and turned his attention to the now-former Captain of Security. “Deacon Arbigast, you’re under arrest for the murders of Frank Scott and Martin Beauchamp, the attempted murders of two law enforcement officers and one civilian, and contravention of the interstellar non-aggression statute. Before we’re done, I’m sure you’ll be charged with at least a dozen other violations.” 78

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Arbigast tried to get to his feet and scowled when Wolfe pushed him back down with one big foot to his chest. “You fucking freak. I don’t recognize your jurisdiction over me.” “Doesn’t matter if you recognize my authority or not, Arbigast.” Wolfe wore a satisfied smile. “You're still under arrest.” Samantha retrieved a small case and placed it on the desk. Trey and the other men watched while she opened the case and pulled out the data disc. “Such a small thing, to cause so much misery,” she murmured, staring at the disc. Wolfe looked at Trey with apology reflected in his eyes. “This is not the way I wanted this to go down. But once it started, I had to let this play out until I had the proof we needed of his involvement. And the data,” he said, indicating the disc in Samantha’s hand. “But believe me, I would not have let him kill either of you.” Samantha looked at him, then at Charlie. She went back to Trey and bent down, peering at his still-bleeding wound. White teeth came down over her full lower lip. “Trey needs medical attention. Now.” Wolfe reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a handheld communicator. After calling for a med-vac unit, he replaced it and held out his hand to Samantha. “They’ll be here in five minutes. I’ll take that disc, ma’am.” Trey watched her fingers curl over the disc. He understood her reluctance to let go of it. Just because Wolfe said he was a Stellar Marshal didn’t make it true. “We’ll need more than just that shield you flashed, Wolfe.” A stab of pain made him close his eyes and grind his teeth. When it passed, he opened his eyes and gave the other man a hard stare. “I can vouch for him,” Charlie said. “He’s legit.” “And just how would you know?” Trey asked the old man. “Who the hell are you, anyway?” “Trey, be nice. Charlie’s my friend.” Samantha patted him on the 79

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cheek. He scowled at her patronizing gesture. “See how it feels?” she asked pertly. Tears still threatened to fall from her eyes, and he reached up with his good arm and snagged her around the back of the neck, pulling her down for a soft kiss. When he released her, he heaved a sigh. God, they’d come so close to losing everything. He’d never put her in danger like that again. He didn’t care how much of a fuss she put up. He’d chain her to their bed if he had to. One eyebrow went up. That idea had some merit, regardless of the circumstances. She frowned. “I don’t think I like that look on your face. What’re you thinking?” He just grinned and kissed her again. “Hmph. Can’t be hurt too bad if he can still kiss the girl.” Charlie’s voice was dry and filled with humor. “Best hand the data over, hon.” Samantha nodded and gave the disc to Wolfe. They were interrupted by the arrival of the medical personnel. Samantha moved out of their way, but hovered as one technician pulled out a pair of large scissors and began cutting Trey’s shirt away from his bloodied shoulder. Once the material was out of his way, he took a hand-held regeneration device and began moving it back and forth over the wounds. The room was quiet except for the technicians and Wolfe, who stood guard behind Deke. The big man was once again speaking into his communicator, pausing now and again to listen. Trey caught bits of the conversation on Wolfe’s end, and pieced together enough to realize an entire undercover unit had been in Nowhere for months, not just The Wolf. The unit had hidden out in an abandoned, non-patrolled portion of the mine while Wolfe had infiltrated the security team to get close to Arbigast. Finally Wolfe closed the device and re-pocketed it. “Arbigast here 80

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was part of a small but growing group of Normals who want to completely eradicate the Enhanced. We’ve already rounded up many of his compatriots. It’ll soon be over.” “It won’t be over until the race is pure again!” Deke struggled once more in his bounds, panting with his efforts. “Only when the Enhanced are wiped out can we move forward as a race. Wolfe rolled his eyes. “Give it a fucking rest, Arbigast,” he muttered. “Or I’ll gag you.” Deke opened his mouth, then snapped it shut and sent the big man a fulminating glare. The technician finished working on Trey. “Move your shoulder, please.” Trey rotated his shoulder, gingerly at first and then with more fervor. “It feels a little stiff, but otherwise it’s all right.” “Excellent.” The technicians started packing up their equipment. The one who’d worked directly on Trey gave him a smile. “You’ll need to take it easy with the arm and shoulder for a few days, maybe a week. Move it, but don’t overextend.” “He won’t,” Samantha assured him with an arch look at Trey. “I’ll make sure of it.” The technicians left just as two men with official insignias on their jackets arrived. Wolfe walked over and conferred with them, and pointed at Deke. They went to him and hauled him to his feet, then walked out with the prisoner between them. Trey watched them leave. When Deke refused to look at him, conflicting emotions swirled through him. The man he’d loved like a father, trusted as a friend, had been ready to kill him. Had wanted to kill him for something Trey had no control over. “Try not to let this eat at you,” Wolfe said, putting one hand on Trey’s shoulder. “We’re getting more and more reports of this sort of thing happening: people who are friends—hell, even family—resorting 81

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to violence because of their fear and hatred of the Enhanced. We’ve got a long, tough challenge ahead of us.” He lightly squeezed Trey’s shoulder and asked, “You up for it?” “What do you mean?” Trey’s brows dipped in confusion. “The Marshal’s Division of the Stellar Police Force will be setting up a base here in Nowhere for operations planet-wide,” Wolfe informed him. “My superior has requested that you stay on as Chief of Security. Your record is clean, but those of your colleagues are not. You may have to release them all and start from scratch. I’ll ask you again: Are you up for the challenge?” Trey glanced at Samantha, then back at Wolfe. Wolfe grinned. “I’ll wait to hear from you.” He gave them a jaunty two-fingered salute and turned to leave. “Oh, by the way,” he said, and held up the disc. “If Arbigast is right and there is an antidote on this, the Enhanced here on New Chance will be given vaccines that will reverse any damage already done. With everything else we’ve uncovered, CSG will have no choice but to clean things up.” He scowled. “They might tie up other things in the court system for years to come, but when it comes to hurting people, they won’t have a choice but to redeem themselves.” Trey hugged Samantha close, the feel of her warmth spreading through him, helping thaw the coldness that had encased his heart at Deke’s betrayal. He looked at Wolfe. “Let’s hope you’re right.” Wolfe nodded. “Don’t make me wait too long to hear your answer, Trey. You know where to find me.” *

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Four hours later, after resting at Samantha’s insistence, Trey turned carefully in bed and rolled onto his side. He pulled his little fire starter into his embrace. The muscles in his shoulder twinged in protest at the movement, but he ignored the slight pain. He needed his woman in his arms, where she belonged. 82

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“So. They’ve asked me to stay on as Chief.” Trey glanced at his shoulder. The healed skin was pink against the tan on the rest of his skin. He would carry the scars from this encounter the rest of his life. Wolfe was right. They had a battle ahead of them and there was nothing he wanted to do more than make a safe place for the Enhanced. And maybe, just maybe, that place was right here in Nowhere. Looking down at Samantha, he corrected himself. There was one thing he wanted to do more than keeping the Enhanced safe. Loving Samantha would always be his top priority. He searched her face with troubled eyes. “Eventually the mining process will be cleaned up and the danger from the terbinium will be eliminated. In the meantime, once we get the inoculations, the sterility will be reversed.” He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Could you stand to stay here in Nowhere? With me?” Her slender hands reached up to cup his face. She placed a gentle kiss on his lips, her body slanted away from him so as to not lay too heavily into him and jar his injured shoulder. “You have to answer one question for me first,” she whispered. “Ask me anything.” Her gaze tracked down his chest, over his abdomen and down to his groin. At her heated glance, his cock stirred, growing long and thick along his thigh. She looked back up at his face. “Can you control how much of you hardens?” A slow smiled curved his mouth. Taking her hand, he placed it on his erection. He triggered his enhancement in just that one spot. His cock became hard as rock under her palm and he laughed as her eyes widened. “Apparently I’m working just fine again.” An answering smile tilted her lips. “Hmm. Maybe your code name should be Bonerman instead of Obsidian.” He laughed and hugged her close. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed a kiss to his chest, just above his heart. “I love 83

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you, Marcus Treyva. Wherever you are is home for me. Here, there, or Nowhere. If I’m with you, it’s all the same to me.”

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Sherrill Quinn spent twenty years building her career in Human Resources, reaching the pinnacle as Vice President only to realize her life needed to go in another direction. After taking a “how to write erotic romance” course online in February 2005, she discovered her true calling and hasn’t looked back. Obsidian’s Flame is her second book with Amber Quill Press. You can read about her current and upcoming books at her website, http://sherrillquinn.com. She’d love to hear from her readers at [email protected]. *

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