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Book Three in the Elite Warriors Series
For most of their lives theyâ€™ve lived in the shadows, pulled from every nation and background, united by one common causeâ€”an all-consuming hatred of Red Wolf. The unquenchable desire to rid the world of his very existence fuels them, drives them.
These men and women pulled the fallen Elite from the snow-covered wreckage of Operation Phoenix years ago. To some theyâ€™re called saviors. To others theyâ€™re called traitors.
As Red Wolfâ€™s power grows, the end game theyâ€™ve sacrificed everything for may destroy them all. Or just maybe theyâ€™ll finally find the peace theyâ€™ve been hunting for.
Revenge is their salvation but is there enough humanity left inside them to save?
A new end. A new beginning. Elite Elements.
Kryptoniteâ€™s Oxygen by Jennifer Kacey
To rid the world of the deadliest wolf a broken girl must trust her kryptonite.
Do. No. Harm. Clark â€œKryptoniteâ€ Leeds took his Hippocratic Oath as a British Field Medic and code cracker as he fought for God and country. Those three words were forged in steel when he worked as a doctor for the UN Protectors. Then his entire belief system shattered with a kill order whispered from the mouth of Red Wolf.
Catarina Ellison, sister of fallen Elite member Gold, accepted an invitation to become Red Wolfâ€™s mistress. Not for money or power which she already had. She said yes to protect her brother. She accepted to keep him safe. Then he was slaughtered on the lie-soaked ground of Moscow. Now she stays for one reason. Vengeance.
What if taking down Red Wolf is as easy as sacrificing a willing pawn who could be nothing more than a traitor to their nations and everything Kryptonite believes in? But what if that pawn is the woman he promised to save?
All the pieces are on the chessboard, each side poised for victory. The last move is Kryptoniteâ€™s and more than just the fate of the Elite world hangs in the balance.
Francium growled. â€œDo not engage. Isnâ€™t that what youâ€™ve been preaching to us for days?â€
Barely restraining the need to yank his arm free, Kryptonite slowed. â€œActually, I think thatâ€™s Wenâ€™s kink.â€
â€œHardee har har,â€ the ex-priest himself chimed in from somewhere in the woods outside the market.
Kryptonite wondered if Wen had his contacts in today or if he looked like one of those freaky ass white bunnies? He kept the question to himself though since the albino ex-friar took umbrage to the jabs somedays. So touchy.
Less so since Hekate joined their little three ring circus, though.
The phantom chime of wedding bells rang in the distance for another of his team members and Kryptonite tried to suppress the urge to vomit up breakfast.
Frances finally released his arm and Kryptoniteâ€™s upper lip curled. He barely resisted the need to snap at his teammate.
Slowly edging forward again, Kryptonite caught a glimpse of Catarina gripping the back of her neck as she walked.
â€œGross.â€ Sam piped up over the nano link. â€œRed Wolf is making out with your chick, Superman. I think I need to wash my eyes out with soap. Does anyone have any Ajax? Frances, do you have any?â€
â€œFuck off,â€ Francium offered by way of an answer.
Kryptonite couldnâ€™t say a word since heâ€™d locked his jaw down good and tight as he caught sight of Red Wolfâ€™s mouth on Catarina.
She wasnâ€™t his. Not at all.
Theyâ€™d never even met.
Why was he acting so territorial toward her?
It made no sense.
She. Is. A. Bad. Guy.
Keep her safe. Promise me. The voice of a dead man crept up his spine.
The voice of reason in his head sounded a whole lot like Gold when he was bleeding out on the snow-covered banks of Moscow.
Kryptonite stuffed his little happy moment into a drawer marked â€œFuck Offâ€ and focused on Red Wolf again.
The man had killed their parents. Heâ€™d almost killed Arsenic a few weeks back and Kryptonite knew Red Wolf never lost even a momentâ€™s peace over it.
There were nights when Kryptonite had lain awake when sheâ€™d gone rogue and wondered if she hadnâ€™t been turned. If the lure of power or money or something else had stolen her from him.
He hated himself for doubting her.
He knew she didnâ€™t blame him for questioning her motives but it apparently didnâ€™t matter. Self-blame was doing a number on him every moment of every day.
She was his sister. His blood. The only family he had left and heâ€™d failed to trust her.
What kind of man did the doubt make him?
A jaded one, yes. What else?
There was a time not too long ago when he would have sworn in front of God and country the only motto he truly believed in was his Hippocratic Oath.
Do. No. Harm.
All he cared about was helping people, healing them, caring for them and giving everyone a chance at better. At life. Circumstances before he met them didnâ€™t matter.
Now he believed in an eye for an eye.
In retribution, and blood from his enemies to clear the world from their very existence.
He hated Red Wolf for all of it.
For turning him into something heâ€™d always vowed never to become.
Heâ€™d become all those things. The part he hated Red Wolf for the most?
He liked it.
Bringing pain to people who deserved it. Taking them out when the circumstances called for it. Slipping in, then slipping out completely undetected when he needed to. He liked it all.
Maybe Arsenic wasnâ€™t the one they needed to have worried about. Maybe the sibling with a black heart was him.
â€œOh, shit,â€ Francium whispered beside him.
Kryptoniteâ€™s heart kicked into overdrive as he watched the scene unfold before his very eyes.
Catarina, in her diva sunglasses, paused and then, as if in slow motion, she swayed toward Red Wolf but then slumped against one of the guards on her other side.
Two of them tried to catch her but she collapsed to the ground in what looked a whole lot like a fucking seizure. Grand mals were most definitely not in her goddamn file.
All of the men around her huddled closer, blocking Kryptoniteâ€™s view, just as Armageddon erupted in his ear as at least a half a dozen people started shouting at one time.
The one thing he saw were her sunglasses skittering past several feet until they came to a stop outside her protected circle.
â€œWhat the fuck are you doing, Clark?â€ Frances asked the question as Kryptonite removed his gun and phone, then handed them to the stunned man next to him. Frances quickly looked around and put both items in his own pocket.
Kryptonite strode away from his teammate with not even a word as he made another grab for his arm.
Even with Arsenic and Titanium yelling in his ear, ordering him to stand down, he continued forward.
The field medic inside him roared to life.
The doctor inside him pushed into the crowd of meat surrounding the fallen woman heâ€™d been drawn to for as long as he could remember.
Getting to her was all that mattered.
He had to help her.
Things started clicking into place as he moved closer, as if he were solving her medical puzzle piece by piece. Like a code with no cipher. Fuck, he loved breaking codes.
When he was almost to her he froze.
A man with a thick Russian accent snarled in his ear, â€œÐ’Ñ‹ Ð´Ð²Ð¸Ð³Ð°ÐµÑ‚ÐµÑÑŒ. Ð¢Ñ‹ ÑƒÐ¼Ð¸Ñ€Ð°ÐµÑˆÑŒ.â€
Kryptonite had no clue what the man beside him said. But a .45 to the temple apparently crossed their language barrier.
â€œWhat have you done?â€ Arsenic breathed through the nano link in his ear. â€œWhat the fuck have you done?â€
Jennifer KaceyÂ is a writer, mother, and business owner living with her miniman in Texas. She sings in the shower, plays piano in her dreams, and has to have a different color of nail polish every week. The best advice sheâ€™s ever been given? Find the real you and never settle for anything less.