Series: The Bionics, Book 2
Author: Alicia Michaels
Published: March 10th, 2015
Publisher: Crimson Tree Publishing
Genre: NA Paranormal Romance
Content Warning: Coarse language, mild sexual innuendo
Recommended Age: 16+
All it takes is a spark…
Blythe Sol never would have thought she would become the face of the Restoration Resistance. Yet, that is just what has happened now that the battle lines have been drawn. With the movement sweeping the United States, the stakes are higher than ever as President Drummond continues to prove his dedication to the destruction of the Bionics and all who stand with them.
The flame has been ignited…
As anger and frustration among the American people reaches the boiling point, citizens begin to fight back, many showing their support for the Bionics… despite the personal costs to themselves. As protests turn violent, and people who once cowered in silence begin to fight back, the government continues its practices that fly in the face of the very principles the nation was founded upon.
The time has come to revolt …
Despite the many losses it has sustained, the Resistance stands strong, leading America into revolution and onward toward change. With an unlikely, ragtag family of misfits at its forefront, the Resistance stands, while a girl who lost everything continues to fight for a future that was once impossible, but may now be within her reach.
With weapons in our hands, we’ve managed to even the playing field. Still, the Rejects fight with a ferocity that we just cannot match without becoming monsters ourselves. Even now, our side chooses stunning in favor of killing. The ionized cuffs are whipped out as soon as they go down, chaining their prostrate bodies together as they lay unconscious. The issue of what to do with them comes later. The few we have killed are ignored; a necessary evil committed when there is no other choice.
My body goes into fight mode, and all thought is lost. Muscle memory takes over as I fight any and everything in my path. Bones and cartilage snap under my hands, and my well-fired lasers stun one after the other. My concentration is only broken when pain jolts my human arm and explodes in my chest. I glance down to find a jagged tear in the arm of my flight suit and blood welling in a gash going down my bicep, almost to the elbow. The red, sticky liquid oozes down to my fingertips and drips onto the street. I turn to find Baron standing nearby, the long blade that’s attached to his bionic arm speckled with my blood.
“Hello, love,” he says, his Aussie accent thick with sarcasm. “Always a pleasure to see you.”
I level my gun at him and take a shot, but he deflects the single laser with a slash of his blade. It bounces off and disappears somewhere into the fighting mob surrounding us.
“Now, now,” he says, clicking his tongue in admonition. “How very rude of you. I didn’t shoot you. Honestly, love, I thought you and I had a connection.”
“Never!” I hiss. “I am nothing like you!”
He scoffs. “You and I are more alike than you could ever imagine, love. I really do like you, but if you don’t get out of my way, I’m going to have to hurt you more.”
I raise my bloodied arm and curl my hand into a fist. “Retract that blade so I can beat the shit out of you.”
Baron smiles, and insanity glows in his eyes. “Gladly.”
The blade is gone and he lunges at me, a sneer fixed on his face. I race forward to meet him, ducking as he throws the first punch. My leg sweeps out to knock his feet out from under him, but as he goes down, his legs capture mine and twist, taking me with him. He’s over me in a flash, hands wrapped around my throat and choking off my air supply. Remembering my training, I wrap my legs around his waist. Grasping the lapels of his jacket, I roll him off me and switch our positions, straddling him and bringing my titanium fist down on his head. His metal-domed head hits the ground and bounces off, unhurt. Anger clouds my vision as I think of the people in that video being burned to a crisp and children being thrown from a roof. A sound like an enraged growl burns in my chest and escapes my throat as I punch him again and again, the clanking sound of metal against metal resounding as I pound against his head. Baron’s head bobbles like a rag doll and then snaps left as I pound his jaw with a powerful right hook. Blood sprays from his mouth and a tooth goes flying. Typically, a punch in the face from my metal hand can render a person unconscious. Apparently, crazy people are more resilient than others are. A spray of red fills my vision, and I’m torn between being pissed off or grossed out when I realize that Baron has spit blood in my face. Blinking to see through the crimson gore dripping down my face like bloody tears, I don’t see it coming when his head—now dented from my assault—races up toward mine.
My head snaps back, pain explodes through my head and down my spine, and I fall to the ground in a heap. Swiping at my eyes, I cannot muster the strength to lift my head, let alone stand. I can feel my body trying to slip into unconsciousness, but fight it with everything in my being. To lose consciousness now will mean death. Baron stands over me and clenches the fist of his bionic hand, causing the blade to slip out again. He raises it high and sneers down at me.
“If you don’t wish to be a part of the new world order, then you must be eliminated. I won’t allow anyone to stand in my way. Not even you.”
I glare at him and try to raise my head, wincing as I realize some of the blood trickling down my head is my own. There’s a huge gash on my forehead. “How could you do this? You’re ruining the only chance our kind has left of becoming part of society again.”
Baron laughs. “Why would I want to be part of society when I could rule it? That’s the problem with you fools in the Resistance. You don’t see the bigger picture.”
My heart pounds in my chest as he brings his arm down, the blade racing toward me. I muster enough strength to roll out of its path once. The blade scrapes against the gravel and he lifts it again, laughing as he prepares to take my head off with a single blow.
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