Mercury Striking (The Scorpius Syndrome #1)(112)

He placed a hand over her glowing blue heart. “All mine, Lynne Harmony. My Blue Heart.”





Read on for a glimpse of the second stunning book in

Rebecca Zanetti’s thrilling Scorpius Syndrome series . . .





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Insanity is merely a matter of perspective.

—Dr. Franklin Xavier Harmony




The nightmare clawed through Vinnie, ripping and gnashing, until she awoke, her mouth opened in a silent scream.

Thank God. Finally, she’d been quiet this time. They’d moved her quarters three times because her night terrors scared the hell out of normal people. Now she lived in the bottom far corner of a sparsely populated residence in the center of Vanguard territory.

She leaped from the bed, her bare feet slapping cold concrete. Her lungs compressed, and tremors shook her legs. She couldn’t breathe. God, she couldn’t breathe.

Bending over, she planted a hand on her chest.

Air.

She needed air.

Launching into motion, she ran through the dilapidated tenement to the creaky sliding glass door and yanked it open. Rain, cold and drizzly, cascaded inside on a burst of wind. Not noticing the storm or the darkness outside, she pushed through weeds choking torn concrete and stumbled across the muddy earth.

Sharp rocks and pieces of debris cut into her feet, but she paid no heed. Her feet threw clumps of dirt, and she reached the chain-link fence guarding all seven blocks of Vanguard territory.

Her fingers curled around the slippery metal near her face, and even in her panic, she remembered not to reach up to the barbed wire.

Thunder bellowed above, as what was once the City of Angels gave itself over to the short but devastating rainy season. She held tight and lifted her head, allowing the rain to barrage her.

“You’re early tonight.” A voice, low and masculine, cut through the storm from the other side of the chain link.

She blinked and stared into the darkness. Several train tracks, abandoned to weeds, stretched in every direction in front of more empty, dark land. “Where are you?” she whispered.

He came into view, silently like any predator, stepping right up to the fence. “You’re getting wet, Beauty.”

She wiped water from her eyes. “I didn’t scream this time.” So why was he there?

“I know.” Raze Shadow, one of the elite Vanguard lieutenants, had rescued her from hell a week ago while on a mission.

If he hadn’t heard her scream this time, was he just patrolling nearby? She shivered. “How is patrol going?”

His eyes, light blue to the point of being odd, lasered through the dark, touching on her toes and wandering up her bare legs, her soaking white T-shirt, to her damp face. Somehow, even in the cold and through the fence, the gaze heated her skin. “Go back inside.”

“No.” She couldn’t. She just couldn’t return to the nightmare and that dismal apartment. “I’m fine.” Except her left foot hurt. A lot. She lifted her leg and stretched her ankle, squinting to see through the darkness.

Raze tucked an AK-47 over a shoulder, his gaze dropping to her aching foot. His shoulders straightened. “Damn it. Stay there.” Long strides took him down the length of the fence until she couldn’t see him any longer.

The wind whistled a lonely tune over the barren land, and somewhere in the distance, a lion roared. Probably Marvin. She hadn’t seen the beast that shared their territory, but some of the other Vanguard residents had warned her about him. He’d escaped some zoo when the world had surrendered to the Scorpius bacterium, and now he hunted both survivors and Rippers.

Cold blasted through her thin shirt, and she trembled.

“Vivienne?” Raze gave her a warning that he was near.

She turned, and he came into view through the mist. “That was fast.”

“Humph.” He reached her in two strides, bringing warmth. “It isn’t safe out here.”

“It isn’t safe anywhere,” she whispered.

He jerked his head toward the silent building. “Inside.”

The cold pricked over her skin, and she nodded, turning. The second her damaged heel touched down, her nerves stung. She sucked in air.

He planted a large hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

She stiffened. He’d taken great pains not to touch her during her week in Vanguard territory, always remaining distant but polite. “Yes.” She gritted her teeth and took another step, trying to balance on her toes.

He exhaled loudly. Then, shaking his head, he lifted her and pivoted toward the building. So easily.

Warmth and male surrounded her in the closest thing she’d had to safety in months. Yet Raze Shadow was nowhere near safe. “What’s your real first name?” she babbled, suddenly aware of her thin T-shirt and panties. She should’ve worn yoga pants to bed.

“Raze.” He kept his gaze straight ahead.

No. Raze was short for Razor, which was his nickname from the military because apparently he was a master with a blade. But he didn’t owe her his real name, so she didn’t press him.

His strides were long, and even holding her, he made no sound. She held herself stiffly, trying not to brush against his hard body. “Why are you babysitting me?” she asked.

“You need babysitting.” He carried her through the glass door and into the dingy apartment. “Lantern?”