Legend of Michael

Legend of Michael by Lisa Renée Jones Page B

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Authors: Lisa Renée Jones
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monitoring and research of the GTECH program. Dr. Peterson will be promoted in his absence.”
    Nothing about this felt right. “You relocated Michael, didn’t you?”
    “He met certain requirements for the assignment, yes.”
    Yet Michael hadn’t said he was being relocated. Michael would have said good-bye. “What requirements?”
    “He’s a cold-hearted killer,” he said. “Never blinks an eye at a command, no matter how bloody it may be.”
    She all but visibly flinched at both the tone and content of the statement. He knew she was seeing Michael and had made his disapproval known, but now he was going too far. “If you have something to say to me, Father, say it, but don’t involve Michael. And don’t judge him for doing what you order him to do.”
    “I don’t remember saying I was judging him at all,” he replied dryly. “I simply answered your question. You wanted to know what requirements Michael met for his relocation, to which I replied—he’s a cold-hearted killer.”
    He’d said it again, and added even more bite. Her mind tracked back to the night before. To Michael’s words. No matter what happens to me, do not tell anyone you wear my mark. And considering Caleb and Adam’s visit had sparked the warning, she was beginning to piece this together. “Were Caleb and Adam also relocated?”
    “Adam, yes,” he stated. “Caleb, no.”
    That horrible feeling in her chest spread to her stomach. Adam, the man Kelly had just referred to as “evil,” had gone with Michael. Caleb had not. And now her father was basically accusing Michael of enjoying the act of killing. “What have you done, Father?”
    The question was swallowed as the humid Nevada wind rushed against them—unnatural, violent—a second before Adam Rain solidified in front of them and dropped a limp body onto the hood of the Jeep.
    “He tried to lock me in a cage,” Adam declared, glaring at her father, black eyes framed by sculpted bone structure. His full lips twisted in contempt. “That’s a good way to piss me off.”
    Shock held Cassandra, eyes riveted on the broken man on the truck, blood trickling from his mouth. The wind lifted again, tangling the loose hair around Cassandra’s neckline and throwing dirt and rock from the nearby desert terrain at her feet. Relief washed over Cassandra as the mark on the back of her neck tingled with the certainty that Michael approached. Michael could control Adam, where her father could not.
    Michael appeared beside Adam, and four more GTECHs formed a V formation behind the two of them—as if they were standing behind their leaders, as if Michael stood with Adam. Cassandra rejected the warning sizzling down her spine. Michael worked with Adam, ran missions with Adam. To see them together was not abnormal. But there was that warning, growing stronger by the second. And he wasn’t looking at her. Why wasn’t he looking at her?
    “Michael?” she said, needing him to look at her, to reassure her everything was okay.
    “Go inside, Cassandra,” her father ordered.
    “Yes,” Adam agreed. “Go inside, Cassandra. That is, unless you want to watch your father bleed to death.”
    Cassandra’s gaze rocketed to Michael, and she stepped toward him. The wind gusted, as if in response, pushing her backwards several steps. She stumbled and somehow regained her footing, only to be pushed backwards yet again.
    Her chest tightened as she saw her father step toe-to-toe with Adam, and desperately she searched for help, finding that the parking lot had turned into a ghost town. Everything about this was wrong. Everything spelled disaster in the process. She forced herself to turn and run toward the elevator, telling herself Michael would protect her father, Michael would handle Adam. She had to warn the others on the base, to call for backup. She punched the elevator button and refused to look behind her, unable to face the prospect that her father might be lying dead on the ground.
    “Michael

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