Silver Elite

by Dani Francis

When you’re petrified on a daily basis as a child, there aren’t many things left to fear as an adult. Except, perhaps, awkward conversations. I would rather fight a cougar barehanded than subject myself to an uncomfortable exchange. Truly.

Primes don’t have enhanced gifts. They also don’t experience any physical signs when someone infiltrates their thoughts, whereas Mods feel it like an electric shock. People like him should be on guard.

We didn’t ask to be this way. Some thoughtless war a hundred and fifty years ago released the toxin that made us like this. We didn’t have a choice in the matter.

This guy is…inconceivably attractive. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a better-looking human, male or female. I’m momentarily lost in his cobalt-blue eyes, peering down at me from beneath thick lashes. His hair is dark, swept away from flawless, symmetrical features that could’ve been chiseled out of stone. Just the right amount of stubble shadows a strong jaw, and one corner of his mouth bears the indentation of a dimple. I wonder how pronounced it gets when he smiles, although judging by the cold, dangerous glint in his eyes, I get the feeling he doesn’t smile often.

All telepaths have their own unique signature. When I was a kid, my uncle described it as your essence, a surge of energy exclusive to you. It’s almost impossible to explain unless you feel it yourself, but after an initial connection’s been formed, you automatically recognize the other person’s energy when they ask to link.

Yes, the majority are the very definition of silverbloods, the veins in our arms glowing when we’re using our powers. A rare few, like me, don’t fit that mold.

A Mod who can wield her powers without transmitting her actions to her enemies is a major asset for the Uprising.

“Does it get you off, the idea of forcing women to do things they don’t want to do?” “I didn’t realize you were so interested in what gets me off.” I recoil. “I’m not.” His gaze locks with mine. “Are you sure?” “Fucking positive.” “That’s a shame. I’d be happy to satisfy your curiosity.”

“Screw you.” “Yes, I’m already aware of how much you want that.”

“What did I tell you about touching me without permission?” It’s intended to be a taunt. But we both hear my voice shake. “It was just to steady you.” He gives a deliberate stroke to my stomach before removing his hand. Then he leans close to my ear. His voice is velvet dipped in honey. “Tell me to put my hand back.”

“Actually, I think my brother will be more concerned with the fact there’s an Aberrant bitch among us.”

Before I can second-guess myself, I kiss him.

“I don’t need healing. I need surgery.” “Surgery to fix your wrist.” “Yes.” “The wrist I can fix right now in less than five minutes and with zero recovery time.”

“Make it into Silver Elite.” That startles me. “Why?” “Because we have a hole to fill. We just lost one of our best operatives.”

Betima 😭

“I need to know what you taste like. Let me have it, Dove.” I lick my lips, and he groans again. “Let me. Fucking. Have it.”

Who invented jogging? Is this not something we could have left behind in the Old Era?

“I was wrong before. You make a very good whore, Dove.”

“How long do I have to sit on you?” “For as long as I fucking tell you to,” he whispers back.

“You’re a dangerous woman,” he murmurs. More than he knows. I laugh softly. “I think you’re the dangerous one.” “I am,” he agrees. “Especially right now.” “What’s so special about right now?” “Your dress. Those eyes.” He scrapes his gaze over my body before returning it to my face. “That body rubbing up on me all night. Teasing.”

“You sent him away?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because he touched you this morning.”

“Once,” I burst out. He blinks. “Once what?” “I’m going to let you have it once. One time. Right here, right now.” Heat flares in his eyes. “And then when I walk out the door, it’s over. It’s out of our systems. It doesn’t happen again.”

“Would you have stopped me?” He teases the warm, swollen flesh that is aching for him. “Or would you have begged for more?” He slips his finger inside and I moan with abandon. That makes him chuckle. “Begged,” he concludes.

“I like you like this.” His taunt heats the back of my neck. “Bent over. At my mercy.”

“I want it,” he growls in my ear. “I know.” He laughs, and the husky sound triggers a jolt of electricity inside me. “Tell me you want it, too.” I respond by wrapping my arms around his neck and tugging his head down. His lips capture mine with a fierceness that steals my breath.

Horror claws at my throat. I hit her femoral artery.

Cross steps into the hall just as Ivy walks up. We all freeze. His expression shutters, shoulders straightening. After a long, uncomfortable moment, he nods at Ivy and strides off.

“This has nothing to do with your uncle. We’ve been watching Hamlett for six months.” Six months? My mind starts racing. That’s long before Jim was executed. Long before I killed a white coyote with a shot that caught the Command’s attention…Suddenly it dawns on me. That’s why Cross was there that night. He wasn’t celebrating Liberty Day. He was on Elite business.

“Why don’t you just kill them?” I ask Xavier, but I’m able to answer my own question when my gaze returns to the wall across the room. The freezer. The blood vials. A tsunami of horror slams into me. “They’re experimenting on them?”

You are not there to be the fire that burns down the world, Wren. You’re just a piece of kindling.”

“The network keeps records of all known inciters. Every operative is required to disclose their abilities and those of their family, especially if it’s one of the rarer abilities. Julian reported your gifts when you manifested at age twelve.”

Guilt pulls at my insides. This is my fault. I’m the one who warned them about Silver Block being here. They must’ve made plans to escape right after I spoke to Tana.

You idiot

“We’ve been searching for it for weeks now, with no results. We even conducted several flybys with thermal imaging. Couldn’t find a single heat signature belowground.” Yeah, because the entire tunnel is reinforced with steel. Thermal imaging can’t see through metal.

“Almost at your door. Let me in.”

This is a trap

There, sprawled on the bed in a pool of crimson, lies Anson. Dead. Completely, thoroughly dead. Lifeless eyes staring into nothingness.

His uniform pants are undone. Her dress is torn.

“I haven’t seen you all day,” he accuses. “You’ve been off base all day,” I remind him. “You’re right. It’s my fault.” He inches me toward the wall, his voice lowering to a wicked pitch. “I’ve been a bad boy.”

“Nope. My sex life is painfully nonexistent. How about you?” Lyddie’s cheeks turn pink. “Same.”

Liar

“This is very old burn tissue,” he remarks. I nod. “From childhood.” He doesn’t touch the scars. Instead, he tips his head and says, “I can get rid of all this scarring right now if you’d like.”

“I don’t care if you got this from a pot of boiling water or an enemy attack in the Last War. It’s still a battle wound. A testament to how strong you are. It’s goddamn beautiful.”

Memories of eternal snow. When the wind turns against you. A single second.

“You know, I could just walk away right now…” I call toward him. “Leave you here to die.” “You know,” he mimics, “I could climb right back up.” “Let me have my fantasies, please.”

“I don’t need flowers.” “I know you don’t. You have no expectations, and you always keep people at arm’s length. But that only makes me want to impress you.”

“A dead General doesn’t dismantle the system. If you want to enact change, you need to do more than just take out the leader. You need to deprogram the minds. Root out the ideology.”

Either I’m completely crazy, or Cross’s mother is Modified.

“She’s Aberrant?” I prompt, because he didn’t answer me the first time. Cross shakes his head. “Schizophrenic.”

I can’t make out the boat’s name because it’s too far in the distance— A shock wave rocks my body as I realize I’m staring at a scene that was described to me before. Many times. By Wolf.

“I think about you every second of the day,” he mutters, kissing my neck. “It’s a weakness.” I dig my teeth into my lip. “I don’t want to be your weakness.” “Too late.”

In a heartbeat, I’m flat on my back with a knife at my throat.

“Daisy?” he finally says. His voice shakes slightly. “Wolf.” A smile spreads across my lips. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“I love you,” he says. I press my lips together to suppress the smile that’s tickling my lips. “I’ve loved you since I was eight years old. And I’m still adjusting to all of this. Trying to merge the two of you. Daisy. Wren.” Regret thickens his voice. “I’m sorry I lashed out after we lost Tyler. Sutler. Jones. They were my responsibility. I was pissed at myself, not you. Travis is right. I led them into a trap.”