Lora Leigh - Primal

“I see Tanager got you out.” The voice was unquestionably male, but it came out with electronic interference, different than a voice scrambler. This was a new thing altogether.

“I always get my man.” The blond woman grinned, showing straight, white teeth. She’d fit right in at clubs where Juneau had partied in college; everyone wore black and too much eyeliner. Leather and metal spikes, preferred attire.

“That’s why I sent you,” the hologram said to her and then added to Silas, “I imagine you have questions.”

“To say the least. Who are you? For that matter, who’s she?”

“I’m Mockingbird. You already know Tan. We don’t use real names, even in private, in case one of us is captured. We’re both part of a resistance movement, working covertly against the private organization that created us.”

Whoa. To be honest, Juneau hadn’t given full credit to the big guy’s story. He’d seemed to want to unload, and it seemed churlish to deny him that opportunity, even if she didn’t buy what he said. Although it was damned hard to explain what he could do otherwise, but her worldview didn’t allow for secret labs and Mengele-style human experiments. That was way darker than she’d wanted to believe. However, now she’d watched Tanager Jedi-mind-trick two men, using the power of her voice alone. In conjunction with Silas breaking people with his brain, she had to admit the evidence was compelling. The Chinese curse May you live in interesting times had come true with a vengeance. Shit didn’t get more interesting.

Which presented an interesting question. If they were a covert operation, what did they do with normals? A cold chill surged through her. She didn’t want to die for the uber-cliché of knowing too much. It might be her imagination, but Tanager watched her with greater than necessary focus, given she wasn’t doing anything.

Surely Silas wouldn’t let them hurt her. If he can stop it , a small voice said. If Tanager works her siren mojo on him, he may not be able to resist. Come to think of it, she’d only seen the ability work on men. Maybe it wouldn’t work on Juneau, and if so, she could defend herself. Die trying, anyway.

“And what do you want with me?” he asked.

“For you to come work for us.”

Silas laughed, but the sound faded as he realized nobody else shared his amusement. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly. We could use a warrior to help us take out their hunters.”

His black eyes turned sharkish. “You mean set myself up as bait. Use my ability to lure them in and then execute them when they show up.”

A shiver rolled through her. He didn’t sound offended; he sounded . . . intrigued. Silas studied his hands once more, as if he saw blood on them—and maybe he thought he could mitigate that with more. She didn’t know if she agreed, but she couldn’t imagine what he’d gone through either, if what he’d told her was true.

“I wouldn’t have put it that way, but essentially, yes. I coordinate all the agents from a secure location. Under most conditions, you would be working alone, though if we locate another facility like the one in Virginia, you would definitely be on the strike team sent to clear it.”

Silas froze. “There are others?”

“At least four. Two have been relocated since Shrike took out Dr. Rowan, and the other two never pop up on my informational grid. It’s possible those have shut down because they’re old—they were established in the seventies—but I won’t rest until I’ve liberated all the test subjects and shut down this program for good. If we make it too difficult and too expensive, the moneymen will cut off the research and close those divisions down. By yourself, you can go individually to each family and say you’re sorry for their loss. That’s all . With us, you can accomplish much more.”

“I’d work with him again,” Tanager said. “He’s cool in a crisis. He was swatting those bloodhounds like flies when I arrived.”

“How do you pay for all of this?” By Silas’s expression, he didn’t mean the rusty, abandoned warehouse.

“I won’t lie to you. My talent is such that I can skim from corporations without leaving virtual fingerprints. I set up numbered accounts for our operatives and we’re funded Robin Hood-style. But I target the parent companies behind the Foundation, if it makes you feel any better.”

“I have a couple of conditions,” Silas said. “If I work with you, I still need to visit those families. Otherwise, they’ll never know what happened to their children, their mothers and fathers.”

Juneau’s heart gave another little twist; his passion moved her. So few people cared about anything , anymore. God, she loved a man with a mission.

Tanager dropped lightly to her feet. “You’ll need some help with that, hoss. These people will have no reason to accept the truth from you.”

“And you’ll give them a reason?” Silas asked.

“It only works on men,” she answered, confirming Juneau’s hunch. “But chances are, we can find some male relative to convey the news. If I tell him we’re cops and we have news about Sally Missing, he’ll repeat it with one hundred percent conviction.”

“Why would you help me? This is personal.”

Her gaze went hard. “Because I want you onboard, and if this is what it takes, so be it. You can teach the Foundation to fear us—and what it feels like to be hunted.”

“Could you give me a few minutes to talk to Juneau in private?”

“Of course,” Mockingbird said. “Tanager, take the laptop to the back office. I have some things to discuss with you anyway.”

This was a new thing. Unlike most, his ability was constantly evolving. Two weeks ago, Mockingbird hadn’t been able to do this. Unfortunately, such power came at a high cost. He wouldn’t be able to do this forever, which meant he had to step up the recruitment and find someone who could take over for him. Which wouldn’t be easy. As far as he knew, he was unique. But then, everyone was.

What he was doing now, he guessed, was some form of technically powered astral projection, impossible to say for sure. Science hadn’t advanced anywhere near enough to try and chart the reasons why.

“You sure about this, Tan?” In this form, he could see her only in sparks of Tanager-shaped light.

God, he envied Silas. To be able to work out in the field, up close and personal with her? That sounded like a fucking dream come true. Lucky bastard. But the truth was, Mockingbird was far too vital—and too fragile—to survive outside his controlled environment. He hadn’t always been so weak, but the stronger his ability became, the more his body deteriorated. I am an imperfect adaptation , he thought, while waiting for her answer.

“I’m positive,” she said. “We need him. The combat abilities are rare, and even more rare for them to manifest in someone who isn’t batshit crazy.”

That much was certainly true. It seemed as though causing physical harm to others through paranormal means didn’t do the human psyche any good. Part of that could be attributed to the experiments, of course, and long captivity. But they’d found some subjects who’d come into their powers on their own, and to a man, they’d turned to mass murder as a hobby. But Silas was different, and Tanager was right. They had to have him. Her short-term cooperation with his personal penance was a small price to pay.

“Very well.”

He hated thinking of all the time she would spend with Silas in close proximity. Sometimes knowing an operative’s background provided too much insight. But of all his agents, she was the only one he’d formed a personal attachment to, even though he shouldn’t, even though it was stupid, and wrong, and pointless. She’d never even seen his face. Never would.