Becca would have delighted at having her bag, if not for the funny feeling at the back of her neck. She bit her lip and shut the door, then bent down and looked inside the bag, finding her makeup pouch.

  She pulled out a handheld compact, turned to the mirror, and held up her hair. She gaped at what she saw—two faint circles, one inside the other, a good three inches wide at any angle. A tattoo that wasn’t a tattoo had appeared out of nowhere clearly after Sterling had checked.

  Becca turned to the sink and pressed her hands to the counter, her heart pounding like a drum, echoing in her ears. It couldn’t be. “Oh God,” she whispered and squeezed her eyes shut. When the lamp had shattered during orgasm—she’d blacked out in that moment of both pain and pleasure that must have been the Lifebonding process.

  A mixture of elation and guilt filled her. With a blood exchange, Sterling could save her life. Her stomach twisted in knots, and emotion balled in her chest. If she died, he died. God, please let that be only if they did the blood exchange. What if the ICE somehow did something to her, something that would hurt him? He wouldn’t consider the possibility and let her run tests. He’d feel obligated to save her. He’d insist. And sure, Sterling wanted her. He desired her, but bound for life was a big deal. It was like marriage without a divorce court.

  She pressed her hand to her stomach, willing it to calm, and made a decision. She wasn’t going to tell him about the Lifebonding mark.

  As long as she and Sterling avoided a blood exchange, there was no reason he had to know about the mark on her neck. So long as he never knew, there would be no guilt or obligation. This was a secret she planned to take to her deathbed—alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Hours after their many lovemaking sessions, Becca lay curled by Sterling’s side, sleeping peacefully. Sterling, on the other hand, was wide awake, computer in his lap, back against the headboard of his bed.

  He focused his tech skills on how and where to find the ICE warehouse. He punched keys and tried to hack Club Nebula to track down some sort of database of ICE users, any information that might lead to the main distribution source.

  He punched a few more keys and cursed. Nebula’s computer system was down. Sterling ran his hand over his face and tried to think, his gaze landing again on Becca, her silky dark hair spread across the black comforter as if it were a part of the blanket, her body pressed to his side as if she were trying to melt into him.

  Holy shit, he was dying here over this woman. Not only had he talked to her about his grandmother, he’d wanted her in his bed. Those two things were huge anomalies. He didn’t talk about his past, and even if it weren’t for security reasons, he wouldn’t have another female in his bed. He went to them and left when he was ready, which was usually pretty damn fast. He could have set Becca up in her own room, but she was here in his bed and exactly where she belonged. He’d never felt so possessive and hungry for a woman in his life.

  But she wasn’t his Lifebond. She was supposed to be his Lifebond. He knew it clear to his soul. He should have saved her, made her his—loved her. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, tormented. He’d actually started to convince himself the coincidence of them coming back together was about fate, destiny, crazy shit like that, things he’d never believed in, but wanted to with Becca. Maybe he couldn’t Lifebond. Maybe that was one of those GTECH abilities he didn’t possess. That would make him her worst nightmare, a Lifebond who couldn’t really Lifebond.

  On that sour note, he forced his attention back to the computer screen and was considering hacking the Empire Resort’s computer, since Nebula was attached to that facility, when his cell phone rang from where it rested on the nightstand. Becca stirred beside him as he snatched it and looked at caller ID. Kelly.

  Sterling answered. “What’s up, Doc?”

  “I need to talk to Becca,” she said. “And Caleb said for you to meet him in the Cityscape room in twenty minutes.” Cityscape was the room in Neon where they’d covered the walls with maps of every street, tunnel, and sewer in Vegas and the outlying areas.

  “Morning to you too,” he said and held the phone out to Becca. “Kelly wants to talk to you.”

  Her eyes went wide. He laughed and covered the phone. Damn she was cute. “She can’t tell you’re in bed with me from the sound of your voice.”

  Her cheeks turned rosy, and she sat up straighter, shoving hair behind her delicate little earlobes. “Right.”

  Sterling put the phone back to his ear. “She’ll call you in ten minutes.”

  His gaze traveled over Becca. She looked sexy as hell in a slinky white tank that cut narrowly down the sides of her breasts, exposing the lush curves. “Make that twenty minutes.”

  Kelly made a frustrated sound. “Tell her the dead guy’s tox report came back with some weird readings I haven’t seen before. I’m trying to get a hold of the army’s scientific team to see if this is an anomaly or a match with the other ICE victims. Not that I think they’ll be straight with me, but I plan to leverage the findings—to trade information.”

  Anomaly. He was all about one big, fucking anomaly today. But there was one consistency. He wanted Becca so bad it hurt.

  “Good plan,” he said. “I’ll tell her.” He snapped the phone shut.

  “Tell me what?” Becca asked.

  Sterling eased her down onto the mattress, his lips hovering above hers. “That you’re beautiful when you wake up.”

  “She didn’t say that,” Becca said, arms sliding around his neck a moment before his lips brushed hers. She sighed. “But you can tell me later.”

  Sterling walked into the Cityscape meeting room inside Neon, a no-frills ops room unlike the high-tech monster of a setup the Renegades sported in Sunrise City. Paper maps covered one main wall with an electronic monitor nestled in the center.

  A large round conference table capable of seating ten sat in the middle of the otherwise empty room, with three men sitting around it. Caleb, Michael, and Sterling grimaced at the third—Damion.

  “You’re like a mole that keeps growing back,” Sterling said, claiming the seat next to Caleb. “Or just a mole—period.”

  “This mole,” Damion said, indicating the notebook computer in front of him, “is trying to hack into Nebula’s computer and find out how they’re managing their distribution.”

  “Already tried,” Sterling said. “Their system is down. Interesting you happen to be messing around in their site right when it went down. For all I know, you did it.”

  Damion slid the computer across the desk. “Backtrack me, asshole. Set your mind at ease.”

  “Let’s focus on the two points that brought us here, why don’t we?” Caleb said irritably. Sterling and Damion glared at one another, and Damion jerked his computer back in front of him.

  Seemingly satisfied no further conflict would ensue, Caleb continued. “Point one. We can’t even think about eliminating or isolating the source of ICE, meaning Adam’s son, if we don’t have a better understanding of what is killing people. That means we don’t wait until they die. Kelly wants active ICE addicts to study, and we’re going to give them to her and quickly. While trying to find an antidote or an immunization, the general consensus is that producing one and ensuring it’s safe in a short timeline is nearly impossible, which brings me to point two. How Becca can help us. The best thing she’s done up to this point is to tell us that the source for creating ICE is Dorian. Deal with Dorian, and we deal with this problem.”

  “And Becca can give us Dorian,” Michael said, breaking his silence with words that cut like fire through ICE.

  Sterling’s gaze shot to Michael. “How would she do that?”

  “Dorian left Zodius City and came after her,” Michael said in that cold tone he did so well. “Adam knows Becca is powerful, so he brought out his most powerful weapon, no matter how risky that move, to hunt her down and kill her. She’s the bait, and we need to get Dorian out of Zodius City again and int
o the open where we can capture him.”

  “Forget it,” Sterling said, ready to come out his chair and put a choke hold on Michael. “He’ll kill her.”

  “She’s powerful,” Caleb reiterated. “With a little practice and you and me by her side, she can face Dorian without risk.”

  “We can’t even allow her around our men,” Sterling said, red-hot rage rolling inside him. “I can’t believe you’re saying this, Caleb, that you want to risk an innocent woman’s life. I never thought I’d see that day.”

  “I’m protecting this city and quite possibly our world,” Caleb reminded him. “Leaders lead, and we make tough choices. We need her help. And if you weren’t so personally involved, you’d see that. I wouldn’t ask this of her, if I didn’t feel there’s no other answer. We’re desperate here. And we’ll protect her.”

  “And we’ve done such a good job of that so far,” Sterling half-growled. “This isn’t the answer. There will be another Dorian, another child of Lifebonds. And that child might well have the same DNA. We need that immunization, and she thinks she has an idea for creating it.”

  “Exactly why we’re going to capture, not kill, Dorian,” Caleb explained calmly. “Our scientific team will then have his DNA to study. We’ll take Becca out in public. She’ll let her shield down and lure Dorian into the city.”

  Sterling pushed to his feet, fingers pressed to the table. He wanted the hell out of here. “What part of no do you not understand?”

  His cell phone rang, and he yanked it off his belt, his glare lingering on Caleb a moment before he glanced at the ID, which read “unknown.” He flipped it open, in case it was Marcus, and said hello.

  “Hello there, Sterling, sweetheart,” came a feminine voice.

  Sterling frowned. “Who is this?”

  “Who I am is not as important as what I am.”

  “Which is what?” he asked, punching his speaker button, instinct telling him this call was important.

  “You could call me the Madame of the ICE dealers,” she purred.

  Sterling reclaimed his seat, his gaze settling on Caleb. “Do I call you Madame?” he asked. “Or do you actually have a name?”

  “It’s Madame to you,” she said. “At least for now. And I can tell I’m on speakerphone. How many of those hot Renegade friends of yours are in the room? And can I pick one to rescue me when Iceman tries to kill me for helping you? I’d say you, Sterling, but everyone knows you have your hand up the skirt of that chick, Rebecca Burns.”

  “You haven’t helped us yet,” Michael said. “So don’t count on being saved. Who is Iceman?”

  “Hmmm,” she said, ignoring the question. “I like the rough types. I pick you, whoever you are, to save me.” She laughed. “Then again, if you don’t even know the name of the man in charge, you might be the one who needs saving. If you want to shut down ICE distribution, I’m the ticket to success.”

  “And why exactly,” Sterling asked, “would you help us?

  “Revenge,” she said with no hesitation. “I was loyal to Iceman. He has not been loyal to me. Nor has he been loyal to Adam. He’s been selling his own cocktail of enhanced ICE. It’s not only giving him his own cash flow, he’s creating what he calls Eclipsers, followers who he plans to use to stand against Adam when the time is right.”

  Sterling and the rest of the Renegades went stone-cold still, a collective flash of shared glances colliding around the table—war with their own government, war with Adam, and now war with the Eclipsers.

  “Eerily quiet there, boys,” Madame said. “Guess I got your attention.”

  “What is it you think you can do for us?” Caleb asked. “What are you offering?”

  “Depends,” she said. “Who are you?”

  “Caleb,” he said.

  “As in Adam’s brother?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Good,” she said softly. “I assumed when Sterling didn’t deny he was a Renegade, it was true, but confirmation is always preferred. And I’m of the belief that it’s going to take one brother to fight the other. So here’s the deal, Renegade leader. I can give you the ICE distribution center, the dealers, and a list of users. In exchange I want protection from the Trackers and a safe shelter to include immunity. I don’t go behind bars.”

  Caleb shook his head no.

  “Fine,” Sterling said, eyeing Caleb defiantly. “You can have what you want. So how does this go down?”

  “Oh no,” Madame said. “Everyone knows Caleb’s word is gold. I want to hear a promise from him.”

  Sterling, Michael, and Damion all stared at Caleb expectantly. Sometimes their leader was a little too much the golden good guy. Almost as if he needed to defy a connection to his brother by being something so extremely opposite, even when it wasn’t the best choice.

  “I won’t give you immunity,” Caleb said, “but I will give you protection.”

  Sterling balled his fist and came an inch from pounding the table. Madame was offering them the chance to slow down Adam, a chance they needed.

  “Not even if I tell you that ICE didn’t kill those users who died?” she said. “It was the cocktail Iceman created. The one he just started pumping onto the streets in high volume a couple of days ago. And you can stop him with my help. I’ll call back in a few days when the body count gets higher.” She hung up.

  Silence filled the room, expanding with tension, until Michael said, “Becca can help us end this.”

  “She’ll die, and Dorian will get away,” Sterling said. “That solves nothing.”

  “Which is why I won’t allow her to risk her life unless I feel she has adequate control over her abilities, enough to protect herself,” Caleb said. “But I have to work with her to evaluate that. You know me, Sterling. You know I wouldn’t throw her to the lions.” He hesitated and added, “But she deserves the right to choose for herself.”

  Sterling narrowed his gaze on Caleb, those words ringing with the assurance that Caleb had seen them in Becca’s head, and that pissed him off. It also forced him to take notice. Becca wouldn’t likely forgive him for taking away her choice, but he wasn’t sure he could stop himself when taking away that choice was about protecting her. “Work with her, but don’t bring up Dorian. Not until we know if she can pull off defending herself.”

  There. He’d agreed. Somewhat. And he could tell from the look in Caleb’s eyes that his friend knew that was all he was going to get right now—perhaps ever. Protecting Becca was becoming as necessary as breathing.

  Standing in the lab a good hour after Sterling had left her in his bed to make herself “at home,” Becca was hard at work on an ICE immunization, making a list of common earth organisms and substances she believed to be the most worthy of a reactive evaluation.

  The timer on the desk went off telling her it was time to dose. Sterling had left her a large supply in his apartment, and she dug into the lab coat she wore over her favorite black slacks she’d been thrilled to find in the items Cassandra had brought her and removed a vial.

  She popped the lid, and her hands shook, a bit of the drug spilling on the pink shirt peeking out from her lab coat. She brushed it off, grimacing. The shirt was a favorite that she’d gotten from one of the NASA school tours, with “science is moon juice” on the front—some sort of knowledge is brain food kind of theme. She loved the crazy looks on people’s faces when they saw it and didn’t have the courage to ask what it meant.

  She could use some of that amusement right now as she started to tip back the vial and hesitated, wondering why she was shaking so badly. She did have that tattoo on the back of her neck. The minute Sterling had left she’d raced to the mirror to see if it had faded, but sure enough, it was still there.

  Becca eased the vial away from her lips and popped the lid back in place. What if the combination of the three—a partial Lifebond, cancer, and the ICE—had somehow changed her dosing requirements? She needed to draw blood before and after
she dosed, because she didn’t feel right at all. In fact, she felt pretty darn nauseous. You need to eat, she told herself.

  But deep down, the woman and the scientist knew it was more than that. What if what she was feeling had to do with her partial Lifebonding with Sterling? But she had no one to talk to…not if she wanted to keep this bond a secret. Becca walked to the cabinet and pulled out the supplies to draw blood. A few minutes later, she placed the blood under a microscope and analyzed it.

  Her breath lodged in her throat at what she saw, and she leaned back. Everything was not as it had been before the Lifebond mark. She’d been right. She had to talk to someone. Kelly or maybe Cassandra. Kelly. She’d simply have to claim doctor-patient privilege and pray that in this world of Renegades that still meant something.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  An hour after his abrupt departure from the Cityscape meeting, Sterling had exchanged a phone call with Eddie over the still missing Clanners from the club; unsuccessfully tried to reach Marcus and finally given up; and then did what any good, respectable soldier did when he was going to see the woman driving him insane—he picked up doughnuts. He didn’t bother going to his apartment. He knew where he’d find Becca—already at work in the lab—and he was right. He shoved open the door and brought her into view.

  Even before she turned to face him, awareness ripened in his limbs. He wanted her with the kind of hunger that ravished him inside out. And not merely her body. He wanted her. To wake up next to her…to kiss her good morning…to know what she felt, what she liked and disliked—things he swore he’d never allow himself with a woman, things his duty, his responsibility, had made impossible. No, her cancer, and now the ICE made them impossible, not his career. His chest swelled with the heaviness of regret and anger.

  The instant she heard the door, she pushed off the lab stool and turned to him, lazily stretching beneath the oversized lab coat hiding the curves his memory was plenty ready to conjure up. He wasn’t sure he could ever get enough of her.