Page 91 of Fuse

I direct a new tine in, slicing so close to that sensitive sack that my thighs flinch from raw reflex. “Screw with Emma again, in any way, and both of them are gone.” It’s fate’s sick joke that I can’t enjoy every second of her dawning dread, but none of my fantasies included a potential castration as part of the plan. “You’ll stand and watch as your consort becomes your eunuch.”

“No!” She unleashes it on a fully bared snarl before trying to come at me again, fingers flicking wildly, only to learn I can toss her onto her ass with half the effort I used on her banana men—with twice the satisfied smirk. Seems the woman’s “superpower”—or whatever the hell she’s using to create her electronic web—has a limited battery life. Interesting. Very interesting…

“Oh, yes.” I extend each word longer than I have to. If anything about this standoff is going to be enjoyable, then damn it, I’ll seize the moment now. “I’ll spill every drop of what you’re after the most here, Faline. And don’t think I don’t know exactly what it is—exactly what you ordered me to do when you woke me up the first time.”

And just like that, the moment of fun is over. I pace forward as it’s replaced by memories, my mind blasted with horror from those moments I was certain I couldn’t hold myself back, and I was about to literally fuck Emma to death. Again.

“You wanted to start hardwiring me to be a sperm machine for you. For the fucking Consortium.”

I’m stunned the statement doesn’t stun me more, even when its matter-of-fact inflection collides with the astonishment across Faline’s. But as she finishes rising, I’m certain she’s more flustered by her sudden power drain than my accusation, which is fine by me. It all feeds more into my mounting ultimatum—and my only goal.

Getting Emmalina the hell out of here.

“You need my DNA because there’s nothing else like it. Nothing you’ve been able to find in three hundred and twenty-two other alphas, at least.” Bull’s-eye. I’ve hit the sweet red dot at the middle of the circle, verified by the blaze that takes over the centers of her eyes before she stretches back to full lioness pose. “That’s why the Consortium’s burned through so many, isn’t it?” I charge. “You’re all looking to repeat what you did with me”—what you did to me—“and you haven’t been able to, even with all the same protocols in place.”

By the time I finish, I’m literally winging it—though the wind beneath my mental feathers is everything I’m getting from Faline as I go on and on. No. What I’m not getting—which would usually be her scoffing chuckle, disparaging smirk, or both.

Meaning I haven’t just hit the bull’s-eye.

I’ve conquered the whole goddamned target.

What that doesn’t mean is that I can cue up the Bee Gees and kick into my white-suited victory strut. Faline has backup procedures in place—evidenced by the ten fresh guards who storm in, four of whom are on drag-in-the-prisoners duty. As soon as they’re ten paces in, Emma erupts in another high-pitched keen, shattering my heart beyond the cracks it’s gotten from viewing the damage to Wade and Angie. While their little “vacation” at the Spa de Consortium hasn’t included all the “amenities” of Emma’s, it’s clear they’ve still been “pampered” with some of the minions’ finest treatments. Wade’s shirtless torso is a roadmap of blue and purple bruises, while Angelique’s naked skull has lost all its vibrance, matching the blank of her gaze.

The henchmen jerk both of them to the front of the pack, clearly causing them each more agony—until Faline jerks up a hand and spits an order in Spanish. At once, they let Wade and Angie fall to the floor, and they crumple next to each other with terrible groans. The only sound that knives worse than their torment is the slice of Emma’s new cry, more grieving than before. I’m no longer able to prevent the tortured coils of my fists, but it’s the only way to hold back on running to her and giving away the advantage I’ve won.

The edge that’s going to get her out of here.

“Let them go!” I lunge toward Faline while exploding with it. Big mistake. I’m rushed by the majority of the fresh guards, while two stay behind to wrench Wade and Angie back to their feet. A third covers Foley, who grimaces as Emma screams and writhes under a fresh blast of pain courtesy of our hostess from hell. “Let them go, damn you, or I will chop this fucker loose like Ahab chopping fishing line!”

As everyone in the room stops, a scream shatters the air. At first, I wonder if it’s mine and I really have gone ahead and sliced my cock free. After just another second, I realize it’s because Emma isn’t having to issue it from around her gag anymore. Somehow, Wade’s stumbled over as Foley helps her sit up. Her shackles have been sprung open. Physically, she’s free.

And…I’m down.

Weak in the knees—literally—from the kaboom of relief. My walls burned down by a thousand flaming arrows of gratitude.

Knowing this is the beginning of my end and completely not caring.

All that matters is her.

All that’s still real now is her.

“So…” Faline’s drawl still isn’t back to its purring edge, but she’s much closer now than two minutes ago. Like tapping on a two-bladed dagger, she knows her little “gift” has tipped the balance on all of this back to center, though she’s not about to let it rock any further. I can feel the energy humming from her again, and I watch her strange web take fresh form on the air. Even if Wade, Angelique, and Emma were in prime condition to race out of here with Foley, she—and the countless minions she’s likely still got patrolling around in parts unknown of the mansion—will be rendering that retreat close to impossible. I know it—and she sure as hell knows it. “Exactly what kind of an exchange are you proposing, cariño?”

“Reece!” The shriek, beautiful even in its anguish, tears up the air before I can get half a breath up my throat. “Noooooo!” But the sobs that buttress it hardly seem of this world, gashing at my senses until I’m nothing but dark resignation and visceral grief.

Maybe that’s the best way.

Because this is the only way.

I need to know they’ll get out of here safely.

I need to know she’ll be safe.

So I lift my head and accept those shadows again. Stare down the witch who’ll bring the entity who isn’t me again. And maybe that’s for the best. Maybe it’ll be easier this way, thinking of Reece Andrew Richards as another entity altogether…that creature being led back to his cage after daring to think he could live peacefully in the wild for a while. Presuming he had the right to grasp something like freedom. Stupid beast. Free rein isn’t for an animal like you. It never will be again. Get used to it right now.

“You know damn well what I’m proposing, Faline.” I suck in a harsh breath. Then another, feeling just as much broken glass crammed down my throat. “Me for them.” I gore her with my glare and every bolt of command I can summon into it. “As long as they get out of here safely, I’ll remand myself to you again.”

The bitch takes a careful step closer. Eyes me with even deeper deliberation. “Just like that?” she charges.