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Brawn Laurann Dohner Book 5 in the New Species series. One look at Brawn, All humor faded from his intense brown eyes. “It might be the. PDF] Fury Laurann Dohner Book 1 in the New Species series. occasionally sniffed at her, but his dark brown gaze always fixed on her every. this book in pdf, txt, valiant new species 3 by laurann dohner - area . Jonas Clark Books, Jonah Reluctant Prophet Erica Brown Maggid.
Out of all the prisoners, she wanted to free him the most. Sometimes, she admitted, he even featured a starring role in her dreams. Her decision quickly slammed into place.
It would be unacceptable to just watch this happen. It would break her heart. She fled the room, forced her movements to slow when she stepped out into the hallway, more than aware of the security cameras located there, and stopped at the supply room to grab a testing kit.
It would raise suspicion if she just entered the cell without a valid reason. Doctor Brennor, a tall redheaded man, stepped out of one of the rooms holding a chart. Did you drop it off at the lab? Are you wishing it were the weekend already? She shrugged. Speaking of, I need to take a blood sample.
The idea of going out with anyone who worked for Mercile made her nauseous. I have to update reports. Cameras are watching me, Ellie remembered, resisting the urge to sprint down the hallway.
At least she hoped that was the appearance she gave. Dear God, she prayed silently, let me reach him in time! Her fingers trembled as she punched in the code on the digital lock. The door beeped when it accepted her numbers and the steel bars made a distinctive sound as they slid away, allowing her to open the door.
She entered the room quickly. She took in the scene and gasped at the pure horror she witnessed. He was stretched out on the hard, cold concrete floor, facedown. The chains secured to his wrists had been locked to one of the pins cemented into the floor, forcing his arms high above his head while his legs were shackled to the wall. Jacob sat back on his heels, frozen, stunned as well by her sudden appearance, but he recovered faster than she could.
He grabbed for his unfastened pants, trying to close them, cursing. Ellie reacted. She ended up dropping onto his body, straddled his belly, her body pinning his down, and grabbed the kit with both hands. Pure rage drove her to batter him with it. He tried to defend his face but after a few hits, his hands slumped to the floor. She stopped, her entire body shaking, and stared in horror at the technician.
Her gaze lifted away from his smashed nose and mouth, to the kit. She dropped it on the floor, in shock, and eased her weight off the downed man. She reached for his throat, a moan tearing from her parted lips, and felt for a pulse. She turned and stared at , just remembering him. He faced her, his eyes were open, his cheek against the concrete, and he blinked.
Her hands shook and she glanced down at them. I just killed Jacob. He deserved it. She tried to sooth her panicked mind. They are going to come in here and find him. The evidence will never reach my handler.
Think, goddamn it, Ellie! She peered up at the camera.
No one but had witnessed what had really taken place. She had no idea how long those cameras would remain off but she assumed they would until Jacob ordered them to start monitoring the prisoner again. She swallowed hard and rose to her knees. All her focus shifted to the man who watched her so intently, helpless on the floor. The test subjects were dangerous.
Mercile Industries had illegally altered human beings with animal genetics somehow, made them stronger than normal humans, and even their appearances had been changed. Mercile Industries was a drug research and development company that would do anything to make a buck. Laurann Dohner 10 She watched cautiously as she allowed her gaze to roam over his naked body.
She noticed a red mark on his side. With his arms stretched upward she could see it clearly. Ellie hesitated. He could kill her if he broke a chain. He is worth saving. She repeated that silent chant a few times while she worked up the nerve to inch closer to his downed body. Lives were all too often taken in the name of science.
This company only cared about money and they needed to be stopped.
Her hand brushed next to the mark and anger stirred. Jacob had jabbed him hard enough with a needle to leave a dime sized injury. Her gaze shifted to his face. She swallowed again, taking note of his hot skin, and wondered if he were sick. He felt feverish to her.
She winced at the sight of what Jacob had done to him. His ass was red from blows from the baton. Jacob had beaten him with it on his buttocks, inner thighs and the backs of his legs. She clenched her teeth.
Rage gripped her again as she shot a murderous glare at the dead man. His pants were still open and his flaccid cock showed, covered in a condom. A widow is a woman whose husband died. Our people were put down too if they were found to be defective physically by Mercile Industries.
Those assholes killed anyone with physical defects? He had a heart defect and died when a large vessel inside his heart ruptured. It happened very quickly. He just grabbed his chest, gasped and passed out. It was a rare defect they only discovered afterward when they performed the autopsy.
She usually did that when she remembered Bradley and avoided discussing the grim details. A change in subject was needed to avoid tears. Trey said you needed cast-iron skillets and he put one on the stove for you to use. There are more under that cabinet there.
I am staying here. He gawked at her. Take it and use it. This will be a good experience to share a house with one. He drives me to drink. All that talk about her husband left her feeling sad and vulnerable. Intense pain squeezed her heart as she walked into the family room, sat at the bar and poured another drink.
She downed another shot, closed her eyes and hissed from the burn of the booze sliding down into her belly. Brawn watched Becca leave the kitchen and sighed. He knew what shit-faced drunk meant. This was not going the way he had thought it would. Not at all. Worse, he found her attractive. She had a curved, lush body, very unlike Species women. She appeared supple, fragile and would probably scream if he ever unleashed his desire on her. The idea of having her touch him with them made his cock twitch.
Of course the thought of pinning her under him only made it worse. He softly growled as he moved around the kitchen to familiarize himself with it. He pulled out a few steaks, heated the skillet and found a plate, then got the tongs to turn his steaks as he seared them.
He sat at the island eating while thoughts of Becca Oberto plagued him. He could ask her father to allow him to live in the bigger house near the road. It would simplify things but that would be cowardly. He lifted his gaze to the fridge, studying the photos that were stuck on it—Becca with different humans.
She smiled in all of them and appeared happy. It was a confusing contradiction if she had turned to drinking a lot of alcohol. Her mate dying would do it. He finished his dinner, cleaned up the mess and washed his dishes. He heard music when he turned off the water and dried his hands. Someone needed to work with the human task force though. Females were to be protected at all costs. The idea of allowing one to go into danger made his entire body stiffen.
Better him than one of the females. He worried about Becca as he put his foot on the bottom step to return to his room. She could drink enough to become violently ill and he wanted to check on her health.
He followed the rock music and paused in the archway to the family room. Becca sat at the bar with a bottle and a tiny glass in front of her. She seemed to sense him and turned her head. She waved him over, her movements clumsy.
Wanna drink? That fact left him speechless. She patted the seat next to her. How many have you had? No one had ever called him that before.
Ferocious, a bastard and other choice names but never something that implied that definition. Worry ate at him more over her mental state. Human women always did. It was a bad idea, he should go to his room, but worry kept him there.
She needed someone to look out for her. We lie about our weight, our age and our sexual history. They lie. If our mouths are moving, well, expect some bullshit. As for the weight, we wear stuff, trying to hide the flab. His gaze lifted. She pressed it against her waist. She smiled at him. Love handles. You have secrets you need to protect? A grimace twisted her features and she put it down. She turned her head and smiled. It sweats out of the pores. I just had horrible taste in men and my father drives me nuts.
He drives me nuts. I always had to be perfect or he lectured me about it. Did I tell you that? I think they are so beautiful. Can you see colors and everything? My vision is perfect. Do you have a tail? Chapter Three Becca woke with a start, confused at first about where she was, before memory surfaced. She winced, remembered most of her drunken discussion with her houseguest and promised to apologize to Brawn first thing in the morning.
She glanced at her nightstand clock and took note it was nearing three in the morning. The reason she had jerked awake sounded again. She shoved off the covers to get out of bed. She crossed the room, gripped the curtain and pulled it back a few inches to stare over the wall that separated her property from the one behind it. They were in their late forties, worked nine-to-five jobs during the week and she usually only saw a few lights on at any given time.
Boomer barked rapidly, a shriek came from him and it grew eerily silent. Her fingers traced the upper shelf, found the drawstring, silky material and dragged it down.
The houses were too far apart for them to ever worry about needing them. All the house lots were large so people who lived in the neighborhood naturally had privacy, unless someone directed binoculars their way.
The living room was empty. She moved the glasses until the kitchen came into view, still not spotting any movement. She moved on to the family room where Tina sat in a chair.
She needed to call They were being robbed! As she started to turn away to lung for the phone, someone large, dressed in black, stepped into the room with Tina.
Though his back was to her, she knew it was a man by his size. His hand lifted. A slight popping sound reached her ears right as Tina jerked backward in the chair. Blood, gore and a misshapen mass with platinum blonde hair was all that remained. The burglar had murdered her neighbor, shot her in the face.
Becca spun, threw the opera glasses aside and ran for her bedside table. Her leg hit the bed and she nearly fell in the dark room but found the phone on her bedside table. Silence met her ear instead of a dial tone when she yanked the receiver up. She tapped the cradle. The damn thing was dead. My cell phone! She eased open the drawer first, her fingers searched and found cold metal and she grabbed the gun. She could still be alive and might not have but a few minutes for the cops to arrive.
She stumbled for the door, hit the wall next to it and yanked it open. Becca ignored the hallway light switch, knowing the burglar would see the lights come on if he were looking out those curtainless windows toward her yard. A sob tore from her throat. She tried to hold it together as she rushed down the dark hallway, misjudged the table and slammed into it.
Becca cursed softly and gripped her knee. She hopped a few steps and clutched the gun tighter to avoid dropping the damn thing.
Motion made her gasp as a dark shape moved ahead of her. She opened her mouth to scream but remembered Brawn was in her house. The dark shadow stood in front of his room. Relief hit her big-time as she limped closer.
The guy might see them and take off. Her face was mush and there was blood. My cell phone is in my purse downstairs. The phone line is down in my bedroom.
A pair of hands suddenly gripped her upper arms. I have to get my cell phone and be careful, I have my gun. Let go. I have to call the police and get over there before the guy gets away. I have a cell phone in my room. Do not move. She stood there gripping the gun, trying to pull herself together. She wiped at tears, calmed enough to realize she was still a little drunk and Brawn was right. Calling the police was paramount. His dark shape halted inches from her.
We need to dial They are sending us help. You need to give me the phone. Mel is there and she might still be alive. Give me the cell phone. One of his arms looped around her waist and his breath fanned her ear. His long hair tickled her arm. Terror slammed into her…but it might be her father. It was always loaded, the safety off, ready to fire. She wanted to tell Brawn who it could be but his hand over her mouth prevented that. It was kind of a soft motor sound and then there was a squishy sound, not a good one.
Her father would have pounded up the stairs, searching for her. He would be worried sick and come after her like a charging bull to protect her. Her toes left the floor as he hoisted her higher up his tall body, backing them both inside his room.
Becca kept her lips tightly sealed when the hand released her mouth. He used it to very quietly close the bedroom door and twisted the lock. He moved then, spun fast enough to make her dizzy and lifted her even higher as her legs brushed the side of his bed when he maneuvered them into the small bathroom.
I want you to sit on the floor in the corner and be very quiet. Do not make a sound. Do you understand me? Nod if you do. Do not speak or shoot me by accident. You are still inebriated. He eased her down his body and metal clinked when he set the gun down. Both his hands clutched at her, twisted her to face him, before he let go to grip the top of her head. He gently pushed, urging her to get down.
Her hands brushed hot, naked chest when she used his body to steady her trembling one. Adrenaline and the alcohol still in her system made her movements unsteady. She lowered, her hands sliding on his skin until she hit the cotton of his sweats and she realized that in any other circumstances this would probably be indecent as she crouched before him until her face was even with his groin.
He released her scalp as he backed away. She crouched there, realized her nightshirt was wadded at her waist and her bare legs were exposed. If a light was on Brawn would be able to see her underwear and it was an undignified position with her legs spread apart.
Help was coming and Brawn was close. New Species had amazing hearing and night vision. Her father had told her that once. How does he know they are male? She bit her lip to prevent her from whispering the question to him. That thought sobered her a lot. She kept her gaze locked on the shadowy form of Brawn while he bent over, grabbed something from under his bed and backed into the bathroom. He remained there, as if he guarded her and it made her feel better until a creaking noise reached her ears.
She knew it was the third step from the top. It Nothing made sense. Why would the man who killed Tina be inside her house? If he said it, it was probably true. It might be a burglary ring targeting the neighborhood. She wanted to warn Brawn but feared making a sound. The bedroom door suddenly exploded open with a loud crash as something struck it hard. Wood splintered and Becca threw her hand over her mouth to stifle the scream.
She did jump, pressed her back tightly to the wall and managed to keep her terrified gaze locked on Brawn. Whatever it was sounded metal and it rolled—a distinctive sound. That got the big Species to move.
He reared up to his feet, spun and her eyes widened as his body hit hers before she realized what was happening. The air was shoved from her lungs by the force of his heavy body slamming into hers. She hit the floor on her side and his weight crushed her mercilessly when he covered her. A blast of painful, earsplitting proportions stabbed through her head and bright light blinded her even though her eyelids were closed.
The floor even shook under her back and thighs from the force of whatever had exploded. A roar tore from Brawn, further deafening her since his mouth was inches from her ear, and he rolled away. The weight was gone from her body, her eyes jerked open and she fought to suck air back into her lungs. She caught sight of him rushing out the bathroom door as the lights in the room were turned on and smoke hovered near the ceiling.
It was white and billowed fast. Brawn opened fire, the sound of the shots made her flinch and she gaped at the sight of him in just a pair of dark-gray sweats, a Berretta clasped in The muzzle flashed as bullets were discharged.
Someone screamed, barely distinguishable in the melee. Brawn roared again, a fierce, terrifying sound, and threw his body backward into the bathroom. Weird metal things slammed into the bathroom door inches from him. At least six of them, a few inches long, dug into the thin wood.
Brawn lunged out of the bathroom, threw his big body at the bed and opened fire again. He only got off two shots before the gun either jammed or ran out of bullets. Becca panted, too shocked to move and her eyes widened as three men in all black suddenly threw themselves on top of the New Species. He used his legs to throw one of them up off his body as she watched in horrified shock.
The man hit the ceiling hard enough to make it rain plaster before he crashed to the bed, hit the side of it and bounced to the floor. Her mind screamed and she somehow scrambled to roll over. Her limbs felt heavy, disjointed from her brain and her ears rang from the loud noises. She was dizzy as she pushed up and slammed her palm painfully on the sink countertop. Metal brushed her fingertips and propelled her to struggle harder to rise to her knees.
She turned her head to stare at Brawn. Another of the attackers was thrown off him toward the bedroom door and the hallway. Brawn twisted his body, flipped his legs and sprang off the bed in the blink of an eye with the bed now between him and the bedroom door. He backed up, growled viciously and roared. His fingers curled clawlike at his sides and he bared sharp teeth.
Becca gripped the gun, swayed on her feet and stumbled closer to the bathroom door as she put her finger on the trigger. Brawn was defenseless without a gun, trapped between the bed and the windows and faced danger. She knew how to shoot and damn well would. Her father had raised her to never fire a gun unless she was ready to kill with it.
She was. She froze as she watched the Species The guy flew her way. Something warm and wet sprinkled her face as the man Brawn had slashed collapsed on to the floor between the bed and the bathroom door.
Blood flowed from the horrible wound, pooled on the floor under his mouth and he made a hissing sound. Lifeless eyes stared at Becca after he took his last breath. Time froze.
It was surreal, too shocking for her mind and her responses shut down until the blood slowly spreading across the floor nearly touched her toes. That yanked her to the present. Only seconds had passed, but she realized the wetness on her face was blood too.
Something metal hit the wood floor in the next room and rolled. She twisted away, hunched, trying to protect herself from the stun grenade. She was sure that was what made the sound. Even with her eyes tightly closed and her back to it, she was blinded for a second by the white, searing light. She managed to stay on her feet, recovered fast and spun back around as she straightened.
The gun in her numb hands jerked up to point at the doorway and she gaped at the sight of Brawn sprawled motionless over part of the bed. Someone stepped in front of the doorway, obscuring her view of Brawn and she stumbled back. The guy wore all black, his face covered in a mask and goggles even hid his eyes.
They were round tinted ones, not night vision gear, but smaller. Her hand shook as she remembered to keep the gun aimed at him. His hands slowly lifted away from his side, straight out, and she saw a strange, weapon in his hand. It was bulky with a wide barrel, a longer version of a handgun, with a round cylinder at the base of it. She glanced at the metal things sticking in the door before her attention jerked to his covered face and eyes. That thing shot those.
She knew it, though not what they were. Pull that trigger and my men will take you out. That fact sank in fast and hard. What the fuck is going on? Lower the gun, miss. I called The police should be here any second. Her attention focused on the threat. He lives with you? Order your men out. Instead bullets blasted through the walls.
She pulled the trigger and threw her body to the floor. Weight slammed down on her back. Whoever had slammed into her shifted his weight and a hand fisted painfully in her hair, forcing her head back. She gasped in air and screamed then. An elbow nailed her in the back, cutting the sound off from the fresh pain and the body lifted. She spotted her gun near the toilet, too far to grab before she was hauled up by the vicious grip fisting her hair at the base of her neck.
He shoved her hard. She slammed into the wall and groaned. She turned, knew she would die and prayed her father had gotten lucky with his date. She glared at the son of a bitch who had her trapped. It was satisfying to see the tear in the black material near his ear, red showed from the bloody wound the bullet had inflicted and she hoped it left a hell of a scar.
Her chin rose as she glared at him and her fingers fisted at her sides. One of them spoke. He pulled hard enough to jerk her head back as he pulled her tight against him. She could detect cigarettes on his breath, which fanned through the material over his mouth. Her eyes are normal. Our second team just intercepted the cops. They are coming. He let go and shoved her against the wall. He grabbed his uninjured ear and tapped it. He grabbed her hair, jerked her away from the wall and fisted the back of her shirt too as he spun her around.
You get to live. The dead guy was inches from her bare feet. She felt wet heat on the floor like warm syrup. Nausea roiled up and she made a gagging sound. The hand tightened on her shirt and the man jerked her. She watched helplessly as two men lifted Brawn off the bed. They gripped him under his armpits and dragged him toward the door. Who are these assholes? She was terrified. Any law-enforcement agency would have identified themselves before attacking. That left the opposite of law enforcement.
Maybe mercenaries? Becca quaked at the thought. Her father said the difference between one of them and a soldier was that his men would only kill when issued orders. Three more black-clad men, their faces and hair concealed, walked into the room.
It would be the last mistake you ever made. He would have been out the window and miles from here before we reached the room. He locked the door and was waiting for us when we attacked, to protect her. He heard us coming. The police will be here soon. She saw a white logo sticker across the side of it advertising security. Her optimism died. Randy shoved her inside the back of the well-lit interior of the van and straight into a large cage.
She landed on something warm. Brawn was sprawled under her, not moving, his eyes closed. A loud sound behind her made her jump as the cage door slammed closed, locking them inside together. Becca watched men pile into the front half of the commercial-sized van.
The front driver door and passenger door opened to admit two more men. There were seven in all. He turned to glance at the back. Laughter sounded around the van after one of the men closed a curtain partition from the front so they could keep the lights on without anyone seeing them. It will confuse the cops. She shifted her body to ease her weight off Brawn. The cage was large, designed for a big animal, but not big enough to keep her from having to press against him a little. She settled on the cage floor on her butt and leaned against his chest.
She studied his face with concern and touched two fingers to his neck to feel a weak but steady pulse. It must be love. I want to see this if the Doc wants them to fuck. More laughs. Becca gritted her teeth and looked up.
My father is going to hunt down and kill everyone involved so I hope you spend your money fast. She needed answers and every word might clue her in to what kind of mess she was dealing with.
Your daddy was probably cowering under his bed when he heard those gunshots. Assholes are all talk to their kids. They obviously had no qualms about killing innocent people since Tina was dead. Her father would arrive at her house at eight in the morning to pick up Brawn. He was alive. Tim Oberto would move heaven and hell to find his only daughter.
He tracked down and found New Species who were being held captive. Her gaze lowered to stare at Brawn. He looked different asleep—vulnerable and less intimidating.
Her father and his team would come for her and Brawn. She just had to keep them alive long enough. Will it take hours? She could survive hours but days or weeks? What if Dad never finds us? She pushed that thought away.
He was good at what he did. She really wants a test subject without the drugs. She thinks the drugs will ruin the experiment. She believes it might be the key to success.
One guy hit the van wall. Who would be more terrifying a sight? Him going at her or her face? Good thing I skipped dinner.
Or worse, her having a brat? The more they said, the more she learned. Number was a person. She guessed that number used to be assigned to Brawn, which meant the assholes had come after him. If they know his lab number then…shit. They must work for Mercile Industries for sure. That kind of information was highly classified. Why does Mercile want Brawn alive? The NSO slammed the company with lawsuits almost monthly trying to destroy them financially.
For every New Species found and recovered, another lawsuit and criminal charges were filed against them and more arrests made. The New Species Organization was smart that way. They were making sure Mercile never recovered enough to restart their research.
Becca jerked from her thoughts to glance up.