Wil’s puzzled look remained frozen as she touched his temple and he remembered. The day they had been brought to the lab for the first procedures, there had been a medical technician with a special instrument.

“They put a chip in your head, so a signal can be sent out, killing you instantly.” They had made it sound like it was for protection, his as well as others. Why had he forgotten?

“He hasn’t any chip.”

“But all us super soldiers got that, didn’t we?”

“I’m not exactly like one of you,” Emory said, sidling into the room. Penny nodded at him as he sat on a chair near the bed. “I’m a special case.”

“Why?” Wil found it almost infuriating that this little, weasely man was special, somehow superior to him.

“I’m the chaff,” he said softly, his face clouding.

“He doesn’t know, Randy,” Penny said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“They did some more experiments, stuff you guys don’t know about. When they had you under, they took samples of sperm and ova.” A glance up at Penny got an encouraging nod. “I’m the by product of one of their in vitro experiments. They wanted to make super soldiers from scratch. I was a failed experiment. I’m what’s left when super heroes mate!”

He was angry, hurt. A life of being shoved aside and told he wasn’t good enough had left him bitter.

“But it’s saved your life, Randy.” Penny interrupted him before he got too carried away. “That’s why he’s survived all these missions and everyone else died. She couldn’t control him. But he couldn’t hurt her until now.”

“Why not?”

“There was a program, subliminal, running through her. As long as she was conscious, it made it impossible for him to protect us. But Ishanti knocked her out as they were getting in the car. Once she was unconscious, Emory could act. I about gave him a black eye though, until he explained.

Emory chuckled quietly, relaxing for the first time since Wil had met him. “I had to talk faster than I ever have in my life. Thought I was going to lose an eyeball or something.”

“Well, a ball of some kind, but I doubt it would have been your eye.” Wil looked up at Penny, his old smile back on his face. “Mind explaining that whole knee in the groin?”

“I had to get your attention, it seemed the best way.”

“Kind of harsh!”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Her tone softened, her eyes held his for a long moment.

Clearing his throat, Emory looked embarrassed and excused himself.

“Hey,” Wil called after him. “Thank you. I owe you my life, kid.”

Emory turned around and faced him, a soft smile playing at his lips. “And I owe mine to you.” In a rush he was gone.

Wil watched after him in puzzled silence, wondering what on earth he meant.

“Greyling has some explaining to do,” he sighed as he kissed Penny deeply, inhaling the fresh, clean smell of her hair and the spicy scent of her cologne.

“Don’t be hard on her,” Penny said, unbuttoning his shirt as she pushed him on the bed. “She tried to protect us.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he kissed her. “But right now, I don’t want to talk.”

“Neither do I.”

“You know, Penny, I could fall hard for a girl like you.”

“Good.” She smiled, kissing him passionately as she shoved him down on the bed.

THE END

Wil woke feeling as if he’d been hit by a tank. His mouth was dry, his eyes hurt and his head felt swollen. The ringing in his ears had been replaced by a pounding like a pile driver.

As soon as he struggled to sit up, Penny was beside him, giving him a supporting hand. Her eyes held concern, not just on a professional level. She flung herself at his chest, grabbing him tightly as if her life depended upon this one embrace. Wil lost his balance, collapsing on the bed once more.

“Penny,” he said thickly. “What?”

“Oh, Wil, I was so worried! Don’t ever do that again!”

“Whadidido?” He could barely enunciate.

“That woman.”

“Rashima?” His head was clearing. “What about her, where is she?”

He felt a burning in his loins, uncomfortable and evocative.

“She’s dead.”

He sat up, pushing her roughly aside. “What? Who?” His movements were erratic, dangerous, as he swung his arms around wildly.

“She was shot, Wil.”

There was a long pause as Wil worked through this information. “Dead.” His voice sounded flat and emotionless.

“Yes. Wil, she was a siren.”

“Whazzat?” Blinking fast, he tried again to clear his wooly head.

The name conjured up an image, a definition began to take form in his mind. Smacking dry lips, he shook his head, trying to clear his eyes, but only made himself dizzier.

“Fuck me,” he groaned as he lay back down.

A glass pressed against his lips. He drank automatically, spilling a good bit on the bed. The pounding faded to a buzz like barber’s clippers. His mind was clearing gradually.

“Penny, start over, all I remember is this – Oh God! This woman, she was so beautiful, exotic.” He felt a burning sensation in his loins again. “Ow! Why do I hurt?”

“Wil, look at me.”

He focused on her face with difficulty. “Penny?”

“Wil, if you don’t focus for me, I’m going to hit you.”

He blinked slowly, tried to clear his head again and failed. “Feel like shit,” he mumbled. “There was this girl.” He mused again, rolling over, hoping to sleep and dream of the woman in white.

Smack! A sharp slap clipped him on the left cheek, snapping his head sideways. He caught her hand before she could get him with the back swing.

“What the hell was that for? Penny?”

She grinned at him, kissing his smarting cheek. “You’re back! Oh, thank God! What do you remember?”

“Lots of explosions, Aurialonus, and some woman. There was something about her.” His eyes glazed over again and Penny slapped him sharply once more. “Will you please stop doing that?”

“Not until you snap out of this!” She popped him again, but less hard. “She was a siren, Wil. Do you know what that is?”

“One of those women, Greek mythology, sang and lured sailors to their deaths?”

“Something like that, only this one is a telepath who lures men to her, controlling them, making them her tools. I thought she had you for awhile.” Her voice drifted off. “She’s been the problem, all along. She was sent to kill us.”

“But Emory?”

“In all these other operations, she’s turned the men against one another. Only Emory kept his head.”

“Why? What makes him special?”

“No chip.”

Princess Rashima isn’t what she seems. It took Wil longer to figure it out than usual. Does this mean something even more diabolical is going on than he thought?

Wil guided the horse with his knees, subtle and continuous, leading them gradually to the primary pick up point. Ben and the others should be there by now. Emory, Wallace and Freedrick had probably already been picked up and would be waiting for them. Now he was bringing in this Trojan horse, Rashima. Whoever she was, whatever organization she worked for, he hoped to discover before she could harm his people or screw up his mission.

She stopped the horse, sliding from the saddle to the ground. Wil held her blanket clamped in one lax hand, falling slightly from the horse’s back, sliding off to one side. She was too annoyed to notice him put one foot on the ground beside her and let his other leg slip down as he leaned on the horse for support.

A snap of her fingers brought him out of his pretend trance and he smiled down at her, leaning over to kiss her on the lips. For a moment, she pushed away, but he persisted and she gradually responded to his touch. His hold around her tightened, pressing his chest against her and he turned so she was between him and the horse’s side. A shift of his weight and she was well and truly caught.

Grabbing a handful of her long, dark hair, he took his mouth from hers, trailing his fingers down her neck, tracing the line of her breast. She stayed a moment more with her eyes closed, then realized the position she was in and the fact that he was obviously not under her control struck her. Ashen faced, she struggled to free herself. His smile faded, replaced by a mask like visage which had been known to intimidate even the hardiest of warriors. Rashima shrank away from him, terrified.

“Who do you work for, Rashima?” His hand gripped her brutally, fingers digging in, bruising her flesh.

“No one, I work for no one.”

“Oh, baby, you don’t lie well.”

His grip relaxed, his hands moved to her body, working their way around in subtle and provocative ways. He kissed her lips, her neck, her shoulder. He could feel her powers affecting him and fought for control.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Rashima. You are too beautiful to damage like that. Just tell me who you work for, I’ll let you go.” His lips brushed her ear.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, her head against his chest as if in defeat. The tenseness of her body belied her.

Despite his determination not to let her get to him, he was weakening. She was beautiful, she felt good against him, she smelled like fresh flowers and gentle breezes. He wanted her like he’d wanted no other woman in his life. She had to be his! His lips pressed hard against hers.

A warning sounded in his mind, some sense saw below the surface of what seemed so real. Someone said his name. Did he hear a voice? Yes! A woman was saying his name. It wasn’t Rashima. He felt lightheaded, intoxicated.

“Rashima,” his voice was hoarse with passion as he slipped her gown down from her breasts.

“Wil!” There was that damn woman again!

Lashing out, he found his arm pinned behind him, a knee placed firmly in between his legs from the rear, pressing up dangerously against his testicles.

Rashima was still sandwiched between him and the horse, her dark eyes glowing with a desperate passion. Rough hands grabbed her away from him, shoving her toward a waiting vehicle. Wil called out in anger and distress, trying to follow, but was held firmly. He saw Ishanti clip Rashima on the jaw as she shoved her into the car.

A few dreadful minutes passed as his head cleared, leaving a harsh ringing in his ears and a pounding headache. Penny held him more gently now, leading him to the front of the armored car, protecting his head as he ducked inside, falling onto the seat. Shoving his long legs over, she slid in beside him, putting the car in gear. In silence, they drove back to the waiting shuttle. Wil crawled like a child from the car, stumbled to the shuttle door and was hauled in by Ben and Emory.

“What do I do with her?” Ishanti’s voice sounded harsh.

Wil’s ears were ringing like a four alarm fire.

“She under? Tie the bitch up and throw her in the back. I want to question her when we get back to the ship,” Ben’s voice cut in.

“No,” this was Emory. “Kill her.”

“What?”

“Kill her,” Emory said with finality.

A shot rang out, Wil heard a body drop, but he was too disoriented to care. He fell asleep in a heap on the floor.

Wow, an over abundance of dictators! Wil’s found not one, but two! Not only that, he’s also found another member of the royal family, a Princess named Rashima. She’s beautiful, clever and devious enough to drug Aurialonus. She helps Wil out of the palace. Despite her help, Wil still doesn’t trust her. But then, chances are good he wouldn’t trust his own mother.

Realizing this could be a clever trap, he followed cautiously, weapon drawn, silent as a cat on the thick carpets. Rashima stopped by an ornately carved door which she pushed open quietly. It swung inward revealing a naked, heavy set, old man asleep on a lavish four poster. He was drooling and snoring loudly.

“You could have killed him yourself,” Wil walked over to the bed, wondering what he was going to do with a naked old man.

“Yes, but then no one would have believed that he was dead when you discovered the imposter. I’ll help you carry him out. He’s disgusting, but we can wrap a sheet around his nakedness.” She grimaced slightly at the idea, handling the sheet delicately.

Wil roughly bound Aurialonus in the sheet and hoisted him casually over his shoulder. Turning, he saw the princess eyeing him speculatively.

“All men are not created equal,” she said, her eyes lingering on his tight glutes. “I saw him with disgust, but maybe some men are not so bad.”

Wil chuckled with a hint of rancor. “Princess, some of us are down right evil. You’d better get a robe, it’s cold.”

She grabbed a blanket off the bed. “There is no robe, my clothing is upstairs. This is the bridal suite.” She snorted in disgust. “As if I would marry such a pig!” She spat at the unconscious, fat man in disgust, then led the way through more doors, down passages and into a long, stone hallway.

The sounds of the destruction at the palace faded to nothing and noises of the night intruded themselves instead. Crickets, night birds, horses whickering. The stables! Wil suddenly was filled with hope that this mission would succeed.

“Princess, I could kiss you!” He walked to a nearby steed, dropping his burden over its back, tying Aurialonus’ hands and feet together under the belly.

She grinned, raising a speculative eyebrow. “I might let you.”

Wil laughed at her and she winked, swishing her blanket around her as he helped her onto a horse. Hopping up behind her, he took the reins of the other horse in his hand.

“Hold tight,” he told her, taking up the reins to his horse, clucking softly.

Wil took a moment to get his bearings and turned slightly east, heading toward the pick up point.

“Where are we going?”

“To meet up with your family.”

The Princess stiffened slightly, her back pressing against his chest. Her right hand dropped behind her, between his thighs.

“Oh, we do not have to do that right now, do we?”

Her hand continued to roam. The hairs on the back of Wil’s neck began to rise. His hackles were never wrong.

“Princess, how old is your little sister, Ambra, the one who was to be executed today?”

“Ambra? She is six, no seven.” Her hand moved rapidly, trying to arouse and distract him. He closed off his mind to her movements and sat straight in the saddle.

“When is her birthday?”

“Why does it matter? She just had a birthday, so I get confused. Now stop the horse, I beg you. The saddle is rubbing my bottom raw.”

He eased the horse to a standstill and Rashima turned slightly toward him, drawing his face to hers, pressing her breasts against his chest. He felt her hand reach for his gun belt, but he beat her to it.

“Nice try, Rashima. You had me going for a bit, but there is no Princess Ambra. You didn’t do your homework too well. Who sent you?”

She tried to hop down, but he caught her under the chin with his right hand, the left still holding the reins of the other horse. She spat at him, trying to claw his hand to free herself.

“Who?”

He saw fear in her dark eyes, but she had not given up. The timbre of her voice changed, her features softening as she tried her different tactics.

“Does it matter why I’m here? What matters is the two of us, nothing else.”

She stared directly into his eyes and the faintest glimmer of a warning flashed there. She was a telepath, a powerful one, and she was trying to unlock something in his mind. She dropped the phoney accent, her voice falling into the cadence of a hypnotist. Wil pretended to go along, relaxing against her, letting the reins dangle from his limp fingers.

Satisfied, Rashima took the reins to both horses, clucked her tongue and continued along the same heading they had been following before they stopped. Wil continued to lean against her, letting more and more of his weight push on her shoulder. Being over seven feet tall, he was a large and heavy man. She was not over five foot seven and slight of build. She tried to push him off her as they rode.