He is Creed Two (Windwalkers #2) Read Online Lisa Renee Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Windwalkers Series by Lisa Renee Jones
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Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
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Reed grunts, drawing our attention, as he once again presses his dark glasses up his nose. “While this information sounds quite daunting, nothing in the data Lucian has given us supports such claims. This file holds nothing but a detailed documentation trail of failed attempts to use Red Dart against enemies of the United States government. They were able to bind the alien chemical component to the humans’ blood, which makes them sensitive to sound waves. When they activated the sound device for torture, it killed the humans. Painfully. It became a kill switch rather than a torture mechanism. Red Dart was ruled inhumane and terminated. The file was sealed fifty years ago.”

Agitation has me jerking around, my fists planting solidly on Reed’s desk, leaning in so damn close I could punch him. “Inhumane gets the job done, and I like it. I. Fucking. Love. It. Do you understand?”

Reed’s ashen at this point, and I continue, “Then you get me Red Dart and get it ready for humans while we wait on the GTECH formula, and you do it now.” I push off the desk, a plan forming in my mind. A little torture, a few high-profile dead bodies, and I’ll own the White House—hell, I’ll own every government in existence. Once the GTECHs are fully under my control as well, there will be no stopping me.

“Red Dart is administered by a laser,” Reed interjects, his voice quaking. “The laser is created by a crystal. I have to have that crystal, or there is no Red Dart.”

“Yet another excuse,” I snap. “You need a crystal. You need the original DNA sample to create the GTECH serum. You need. You never create.”

“The alien DNA protects itself from replication,” he bristles.

“And polio crippled people until a scientist who was obviously more skilled than you created a vaccine. Meanwhile, I’m building an army with worthless humans, not GTECHs. We either convert you and them, or you will all become my pets.”

“I still think we should ransom Addie Powell.”

My gaze lifts to the doorway where Ava stands, her long, red hair draped over her lab coat, and one of the many wolves I command at her feet. My gaze travels possessively lower to her curved belly, where the heir to my kingdom grows inside her. She and my baby are the future of the world, and if we can’t recreate the vaccine that created the GTECHs, we’ll fuck our way forward.

“Powell won’t negotiate,” I tell her. “Not even for his daughter. No general worth his salt would.”

Her brow pinches, and she walks further into the room. “Then send Creed to seduce her into giving us what we need. He had her once. I’m quite confident he can have her again.”

“He tried to kill her father,” I remind her.

“But he didn’t,” she says. “Creed will tell her he never intended to, either. That he always loved her. That he protected her. That he can no longer stay away. He’ll tell her he wants to save humankind, and she can help him—by helping him locate and destroy the crystal. Once he has the crystal, I’m sure he can manipulate an answer as to how to use it on GTECHs. Though, I must say, human application of Red Dart might be enough. Once we use it on, say, the president of the United States, and we hold his kill switch, I find it doubtful Caleb will do anything but obey your commands.”

A slow, satisfied smile slides onto my lips. Creed will get me Red Dart. Creed has never failed me.

Chapter Three

Addie

I’m standing in the midst of a fancy Washington, D.C., mansion, a party underway that I’d rather not attend, wishing I were back in my Vegas condo when the moment I’ve both longed for and dreaded is finally here. The moment that, deep down, I knew would always come.

It starts with a sensation, a feeling of him near, a soft breeze that flutters through the sheer curtains of the open double-paned doors, a breeze with a life of its own that seems to waltz with the sound of music and mingle with the voices in the room before brushing my skin. It speaks to me, calls to me. No, it demands of me. Instantly, memories wash over me—memories of the fire of “his” touch, the spice of his kiss, the warmth of his body pressed close to mine.

Nerves flint through me, and slowly, my gaze travels the room, from the displays of delicate finger foods to flocks of uniforms and elegant gowns, confirming others feel this too, but there is nothing, no reaction.

My attention jerks back to those damnable sheer curtains caressing the double-paned patio doors, a familiar tingling sensation awakening the mark on the back of my neck. My hand trembles as I set my champagne glass on the table and watch as a waiter pulls the doors shut, but there is no stopping what is coming. And what is coming is lethal.


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