Deadly Seduction Read Online Free Page B

Max and Harry.
    Unexpectedly, Luc ignored the money and instead pinned Travis with an earnest expression.
    “That will do for starters. But here’s what I really need: my uncle is in jail in Australia and he’s very sick. You get him out and into a safe house and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Chapter 2
    Northeast Thailand Jungle
September 17
    Consciousness tightened cold fingers around Max’s larynx, forcing him up. But not fully.
    That goddess/bitch—awareness—gave nothing freely. He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t see, but the void that swaddled him was heinously familiar.
    He’d been buried alive.
    Left behind.
    Again.
    Panic boiled beneath his skin. He attempted to move but his arms and legs didn’t respond; he was paralyzed.
    His mind, however, was anything but and his thoughts leapfrogged, frantic and chaotic. He needed to break free. He needed to find Taz. And then—
    Pain slashed the inside of his skull, a razor scraping live tissue from bone. It was a brutal reminder that even the smallest of thoughts about escape were intolerable.
    Max panted, sucking air in and out, uncertain why it helped but grateful it did. Slowly the pain diminished, grew tolerable. He wished for light, but all remained dark.
    Count: twelve thousand one. Twelve thousand two.
    Though the voice had only been inside his head, it startled him. Silence pressed in again. A name teased the tip of his tongue, but the pain spiked and stole it just as quickly.
    Just count. Twelve thousand five. Twelve thousand six.
    Max listened, realized something—someone?—inside him was ticking off seconds: had ticked off millions of them. He followed the hypnotic count— twelve thousand eight, twelve thousand nine —and was rewarded with a name: Hades.
    It was more than just the name they called him. Hades was the part that counted. The part that kept his memories, his secrets, secure. But at what price? Was it true he’d go insane without his alter ego? Who had told him that? Taz?
    Taz! Holy God, where was his friend? Had he escaped?
    Max tried to recall their last assignment. He and Taz had been—
    The thought was instantly short-circuited by the sensation of being thrown off a cliff. G-force kicked him in the stomach, turning him inside out as he free-fell.
    He hit bottom, landing headfirst on concrete. He felt his brain splatter, but he didn’t die. No, he never died, no matter how badly he wanted to.
    Right now he just wanted to puke, a sensation made worse by the awareness of flickering light in the back of his skull where grainy video flashed unevenly, like film that had jumped the track. It felt as if he’d just stumbled, drunk, into a theater mid-movie.
    He concentrated, catching words. Title: War, version 7. Title: Apocalypse, version 3.
    Oh. Hell. No. He wasn’t doing any of it—
    Another blinding blow hit. This time a fist punched through his chest, squeezing his heart, stealing his breath. The pain was beyond anything he’d endured and it carried a promise that it could get worse. Much worse.
    Don’t question and it goes away.
    Hades was back.
    Max began counting again. Twelve thousand twenty, twelve thousand twenty-one. The numbers threaded meaninglessly through his mind, an endless progression that helped him go numb.
    At thirteen thousand the pain vanished. But still he felt sick. Hot and internally sweaty. The peculiar clamminess was familiar.
    Sweet Mary.
    He remembered. It was a sign. He was coming to.
    This time when the urge to puke rolled over him, Max welcomed it, clawing to the surface of clarity.
    He still couldn’t see. He was tied down on a table, flat on his back. His head was turned to one side and strapped firmly in place so he wouldn’t choke if he vomited.
    Recognition hit like an anvil. He was in the lab with Dr. Rufin, being prepped for another mind fuck. A guard was present, too. As much as Max disliked Rufin, he disliked the guards even more.
    The bastards thought Max never remembered this.