Page 3 of Human Reclaimed
“Kidnapping me seems pretty damn personal.”
The second man moved to my left. I turned my head just as he stepped closer, a thin metallic device in his gloved hand.
“Wait—” I managed before feeling a sharp sting in my neck.
My knees instantly weakened. The world tilted sideways as the sedative rushed through my system. The tall man caught me as I slumped, one arm wrapping around my waist. My head fell against his chest, and I caught the scent of something familiar—clean and earthy yet distinctly him. A smell from my war days.
“Target secured,” the second man said. “Transport arriving in sixty seconds.”
As my consciousness ebbed, I forced my blue eyes to focus closer on their uniforms. The material seemed to shimmer slightly under the dim parking lot lights—not standard tactical gear but something more advanced. My gaze snagged on an emblem on the tall man’s collar: a stylized alpha symbol overlaid with what looked like a planet.
Not CyberEvolution’s double helix logo but similar in design aesthetic. The uniforms were too similar to be a coincidence.
My heart raced as my thoughts splintered. CyberEvolution. The files I’d discovered. The experiments I’d reported to my commanding officer before my sudden “honorable discharge.” But why now? Two years of silence and then this?
“The extraction window is closing,” the second man said. “We need to move now.”
The tall man’s arm tightened around me as he lifted me fully against his chest. For a kidnapper, the gesture was almost gentle.
“She’s fighting the sedative,” he murmured, and something in his tone sounded almost impressed.
My lips felt numb as I tried to speak. “If you’re… CyberEvolution… you should know… I’m not afraid of you.”
A subtle shift in his expression—surprise, perhaps? “We are not CyberEvolution.”
Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision. The last thing I saw was his face, those blue eyes studying me with an intensity that seemed human but not quite—curious yet conflicted.
As consciousness finally slipped away, I made myself a promise. Whoever these people were, whatever they wanted, they’d picked the wrong woman to abduct. I’d survived far worse.
And someone was definitely going to pay for this.
TWO
RUNE
Sixty seconds after Tegan administered the sedative into Talia’s neck, our sleek ship descended into the parking lot like a predator settling onto its prey. The dark hull absorbed what little light the facility’s dim lamps threw off, making us almost invisible against the night sky. Snow had begun to fall, delicate flakes catching in Talia’s blonde hair as I stood with her slumped against me.
Her unconscious weight pressed against my chest, surprisingly solid for someone so small. This close, I caught the unmistakable scent of lavender and something else—like rain on warm stone—that made something primitive stir within me.
“Transport secured.” Sage’s voice crackled through my earpiece. “Perimeter clear. Let’s move before someone notices us.”
I gathered Talia into my arms, one arm supporting her back, the other beneath her knees. Her head lolled against my shoulder, exposing the elegant line of her neck. The tactical practicality of our mission momentarily receded as I registered how perfectly she fit against me, like a puzzle piece I hadn’t known was missing in my life.
“Need assistance with the package?” Tegan moved beside me, one eyebrow raised.
“Negative.” The word came out sharper than intended. I corrected my tone. “I’ve got her.”
I carried her up the ramp, feeling the warmth of her through my tactical gear. Inside our ship’s sleeping quarters, I placed her gently onto the narrow bunk, taking care to position her so she wouldn’t roll during takeoff. Her blonde hair spilled across the pillow like liquid gold, and I found myself lingering longer than mission parameters required.
“She’s…” I whispered and then stopped, uncertain how to articulate the strange pull I felt toward her.
“Even more dangerous in person than her file suggested,” I muttered to myself, straightening before adjusting my tactical vest with unnecessary precision.
I tucked a thermal blanket around her, telling myself it was to prevent shock from the sedative. My fingers brushed her shoulder, and I jerked back as if burned. What the hell was wrong with me? She was a mission objective, not a?—
I cut off the thought before it fully formed and returned to the cockpit where Sage was already running through preflight protocols, her nimble fingers dancing across the control panels.
“Stealth systems engaged. Weather front providing additional cover,” she reported and then paused, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Our guest settled in comfortably?”
