Uncontrollable

By Nina Croft

Quinn Sutherland, second in command of the Tribe, a group of powerful telepaths, has always been certain of who and what he is—one of the good guys. All he wants is to keep his friends safe—no easy feat when everyone in the world is after them. While on a rescue mission, he meets a mysterious FBI agent, who appears to know a lot about them, and seems to want the same thing he does. But her assignment could literally mean the death of him…

When Melody Lyons is inducted into the Federation’s elite Bureau of Time Management, it’s the pinnacle of her ambitions. Only when she’s sent back to the twenty-first century to eliminate a group of rogue time travelers, she never guesses she’ll fall for a man who died two thousand years ago… Quinn awakens emotions she hadn’t known existed, and for the first time, her loyalties are tested.

Books in the Beyond Human series:
Unthinkable
Unspeakable
Uncontrollable

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Sep 24, 2018
• ISBN: 9781640636774

Nina Croft

Growing up in the cold, wet, north of England, Nina Croft spent a lot of time dreaming of faraway sunnier places and ponies. When she discovered both, along with a whole load of other things, could be found between the covers of a book, her life changed forever. Later, she headed south, picked up the perfect husband along the way, and together they volunteered to work in Africa. There they discovered a love of exotic places and a dislike of 9-5 work. Afterward they spent a number of years travelling (whenever possible) intermingled with working (whenever necessary.) Eventually they stumbled upon a remote area in the mountains of southern Spain and the small almond farm they now call home. Nina spends her days reading, writing and riding her mare, Gencianna, under the blue Spanish skies—sunshine and ponies. She reckons this is proof that dreams really can come true if you want them enough. Nina's writing mixes romance with elements of the paranormal and science fiction If you'd like to find out about new releases then sign up for my Newsletter at: https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/d8y0v7

Book preview

For Rob - who always seems to be able to read my mind.

Previously on Beyond Human…

Quinn Sutherland has always believed he was one of the good guys. Second-in-command of the Tribe, a covert operations group of telepaths under the control of the British government, he thought he was working for a better world. A world with no more lies.

When Quinn’s twin sister died five years ago, he was told it was from natural causes. But when members of the Tribe continue to die under suspicious circumstances, they realize their one chance of survival lies in escaping their government controllers and uncovering the secrets of their past.

Their only clue is a connection to an ancient, isolated group discovered by an explorer, Malcolm Rayleigh, in Africa, in 1878. This group was subsequently taken to Scotland to live on the Rayleigh estates.

Quin grew up in an uncaring foster home with his twin sister, Shanna, and some of his happiest times were holidays on the Rayleigh estate. And Martin Rayleigh, descendant of the explorer, became a father figure to him. But Martin disappeared four years ago and can’t be found.

During their search, Quinn and other members of the Tribe uncover secrets. They learn that their government controllers were mere puppets, and for years the Tribe has been under the control of the Conclave, a clandestine organization which secretly controls much of the world for its own gain. Furthermore, the Conclave has been infiltrated by Kane Revilla, a mysterious man with telepathic powers similar to their own, and who is using the Conclave’s resources to systematically wipe out the Tribe.

Now, hunted not only by the government they once worked for, but by the Conclave, and Kane Revilla, the Tribe must become as ruthless as their enemies if they have any hope of survival. And Quinn’s belief that he is one of the good guys is being eroded.

As their enemies close in, the Tribe find evidence that Martin is being held prisoner in the United States. Quinn heads over there to continue the search, but the lead seems to be a dead end. Months later and he’s no closer to finding Martin. But while he’s been away, things have changed. Old enemies have become allies. The Tribe is now working with Colonel Winters, their old government controller, and with the Conclave, and Kane Revilla. Quinn no longer knows who the good guys really are.

So, when he finally locates Martin, he’s unsure who he can trust. But he has to find out…fast.

Prologue

Federal Bureau of Time Management

Code Red Alert–Asset Request Form 4012-56

Date requested: May 15th 4012

Details

Alert: Time Displacement Anomaly level 1

Date of Anomaly: February 27th 2017

Source: Unknown

Actions Required

Assign Agent. This assignment is volunteer status only.

Primary Objective: Discover source of anomaly. Assess threat level to timeline. Eliminate if threat level is deemed 0-1%.

Secondary Objective: If threat level higher than 1%, no action must be taken. Collect relevant data and return to base for review.

Notes

Due to proximity to the Cataclysm of 2020, this mission is deemed highly dangerous. The investigating agent must proceed with extreme caution. Timeline must not be compromised.

Captain Haran Lyons

Agent in Charge.

Federal Bureau of Time Management.

…

Special Agent Melody Lyons was seated at her desk when the asset request form flashed up on her screen. And her heart literally missed a beat.

They all knew about the supposed anomaly—the station had been buzzing with the news since the alert was picked up two days ago. An alert from an unidentifiable source, which had echoed down the centuries from a time long before the technology should have existed. Nearly two thousand years in the past. Nothing that far back had ever been recorded, and most of the Bureau considered it must be a glitch in the system. The captain had been in meetings for the last four hours to decide whether they should send an agent to investigate or just adopt a wait-and-see approach and hope it would disappear without intervention.

Now it looked like the mission was on.

And she wanted in.

More than she’d ever wanted anything in her life before.

Growing up, she had dreamed of joining the Federation’s elite time control unit. She’d gone to the academy, done her time on the surface, and even a rotation in deep space. But through it all, this had been her dream job. She was quite aware that many of the other officers believed she had gotten where she was through unfair means. But that was untrue. She’d finished at the top of her class in every course she’d taken. She’d worked hard and was proud of what she’d achieved. She had more successful jumps than any agent—well, live ones, anyway.

She’d already drafted out her application to volunteer—including all the reasons why she was the best agent for the job—and she swiped her hand over the send key and sat back, blew out her breath.

The captain wouldn’t be happy, but then he was also her adopted father and wouldn’t like her putting herself in harm’s way. But she had always promised herself she wouldn’t use their connection to further her career, so she was damned if she’d allow it to hinder her.

On the positive side, she doubted there would be many volunteers.

The danger that something might go wrong with the jump—and there were so many possibilities—increased with the distance in time. Most jumps were limited to days or weeks. The longest she’d ever gone back was a year and that had nearly ended in disaster. Only her quick reactions had saved her from a sticky end.

But she was willing to risk it.

That period in time had always fascinated her. While she’d never admit it to her colleagues, her secret hobby was watching old movies and TV programs from the pre-Cataclysm days. Certainly, she’d never reveal that she had a particular fondness for romance. They would probably see that as a sign of impending insanity and likely she’d never get sent on a mission again. Somewhere in the last two thousand years love had become extinct. These days, compatibility, emotional and genetic, was what mattered in a relationship.

Of course she didn’t believe in love, either.

That didn’t stop her wanting to go and see what the Earth was like before the Cataclysm.

Now all she could do was wait.

Chapter One

Nobody gets hurt, Quinn said as he climbed out of the back of the black van and stepped onto the tarmac at the rear of the Massachusetts Correctional Institution.

Rose jumped down beside him. I’ll do my best, boss, honest.

Did he detect a hint of sarcasm? Probably. "And absolutely nobody dies."

Geez, you’re fussy. I’ve been practicing, all right? Hopefully, the worst anyone will get is a bad headache.

He supposed that would have to do. Just remember, we’re supposed to be the good guys here.

She snorted. He was quite aware Rose considered him naive. He wasn’t. That didn’t mean he was ready to sign up to join the dark side just yet.

Have you ever considered, she said, pulling on a leather jacket over her black T-shirt, that good and bad, right and wrong, are just a matter of where and when you’re born?

No. He believed some people were inherently good, and he’d always strived to be one of them. But he’d done some terrible things in his time working for the government. Things he’d justified by telling himself that there was a plan, a greater good behind them.

Well, that had turned out to be a load of fucking bollocks.

They’d had the greater good lie thrust in their faces for too long. So, a year ago, the Tribe had parted company with their government controllers. But Quinn had always believed it was temporary, that they’d find a way to protect themselves and a way back in.

Rose rested a hand on his arm. Hey, we’re doing the right thing. We have to get Martin out.

I know. Martin was a good man, and the closest thing Quinn had had to a father figure, growing up. He’d disappeared four years ago and had presumably been held without trial all that time. That wasn’t right.

Calm down. Rose squeezed his arm. Things will work out.

He hoped so. Quinn had spent more than a year searching for Martin. Now that he’d found him, he was getting him out—failure was not an option. He’d just prefer it to happen without any collateral damage.

The plan was simple. Well, actually there wasn’t one—they were going to play it by ear. He would have preferred something a little more structured, but Rose had turned up last night, with her arms dealer boyfriend, Dave Madsen, in tow, and the bad news that the Tribe wasn’t the only group after Martin. So, they’d had to move fast.

They’d parked as far away from the entrance to the prison as they could get to avoid the surveillance cameras. According to their tech expert, Stefan, who had accessed the systems remotely from London, there were none in this area.

It was early summer, but the sun was warm, and sweat trickled down his spine. He rolled his shoulders and tried to get comfortable in the unaccustomed formal clothes. He was wearing a dark gray suit and white shirt as befitted the lawyer he was pretending to be. He tightened the tie, then smoothed down the jacket.

You should have let me give you a haircut, Rose said, studying him.

I had one six months ago. It reached almost his shoulders again, but he’d pulled it back into a neat ponytail. Okay, let’s do this.

He moved around to the side of the vehicle as the window at the driver’s side slid open, and Dave poked his head out. You two ready to go?

Yeah, he said. We’ll give you a call when we’re five minutes out. Once you get the okay, bring the van to the front.

No problem.

And if we’re not there in thirty minutes, get the hell out of here. Contact Jake and…

Actually, he didn’t know what Jake would do. Jake was their leader, in command of the Tribe. He was also Martin’s foster son. Quinn had known him almost all his life; he was his friend, and the nearest thing Quinn had to a brother. But they hadn’t seen each other in nearly a year, and Jake’s priorities had changed drastically in that time. He had a wife and new allegiances.

Jake and the rest of the group had been the one solid thing in Quinn’s life. He hadn’t realized how truly huge that closeness was until he’d been out on his own. He missed them. But at the same time, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to go back. He suspected he was sulking—Jake had new friends now. His lips twitched at the thought. He’d share it with Jake as soon as he got the hell out of here. Which, if all went well, would be tomorrow.

Jake will come and get us, Rose finished for him. Because that’s what he does. Things haven’t changed that much. You’d know that if you’d popped home now and again.

Home?

Home is wherever your family is. That’s us, in case you’d forgotten. And right now, most of us are in Uganda—so that’s home. Shall we go?

He nodded to Dave and followed her across the parking lot. Like all the Tribe, Rose was tall with blue eyes and black hair, strikingly beautiful and hard to forget.

They entered the prison, straight into a security check. Quinn walked through the scanner and a guard patted him down, then nodded him through into the reception area. A second guard sat behind the counter that ran along the back wall, a slightly overweight woman, her dark blond hair tied up with a clip and a bored expression on her face. There was a third guard behind the glass door leading into the main prison. Exactly as they were expecting.

So far, so good, Rose said inside his head, and he gave a slow nod.

He approached the counter, pulling his fake ID from his jacket pocket. I’m here to see Martin Rayleigh. I’m his lawyer.

As the guard tapped the keyboard, Quinn dipped into her mind—he was in no way the strongest of the group, but he had no problem pulling out top-level information. He got the number of Martin’s cell. Then something else.

Damn.

What is it? Rose asked.

Martin’s not in his cell. He’s being interviewed by the fucking FBI.

Might be better for us. We’ll be away from the other prisoners. Fewer witnesses.

I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait, the guard said. There’s someone with your client right now.

He didn’t want to wait. He hated prisons, and this place, in particular, was giving him the creeps. He considered his options. Rose wasn’t the only one who’d been practicing. He slipped into the guard’s mind again.

We need to see Martin Rayleigh right now, he said, accompanying the words with subtle tendrils of coercion.

A small frown drew the guard’s brows together, and then she gave a slow shake of her head. I’ll get someone to take you right away.

As the woman spoke into her phone, Quinn glanced over to the other guard at the door, but the man hadn’t noticed anything amiss.

Very impressive, Rose said.

I’m not just a pretty face.

The glass door opened, and the guard stood up. This way, please.

They were led along a corridor with gray walls and strip lighting. In the distance, he could hear the muted sounds of too many people crammed in together. A faint hint of despair permeated the air. He pushed into the guard’s mind, suggested they hurry, and their pace picked up. When we get to the cell, he told Rose, take out the guard, and the FBI agent. Then we walk out of here.

Ballsy. I like it.

If we meet anyone on the way, just knock them out.

I’ll try, boss.

They hadn’t seen anyone since they’d come in, and with luck they wouldn’t see anyone on the way back. But it was better to be ready. This was going to go smoothly and cleanly, and they’d be on their way home in no time.

…

Special Agent Melody Lyons stripped off her jacket and tossed it on the back of the plastic upright chair. She rolled up the sleeves on her gray knit pullover shirt and scrubbed a hand through her hair. This was the first breakthrough she’d gotten, and she couldn’t afford to screw up.

When the Bureau’s systems had picked up a code red alert, it was obvious, from the timing and location of the anomaly, that this job was ultra sensitive, with the potential for cataclysmic consequences if they made a wrong move.

So, she had to get it right. That meant finding the source of the anomaly and resolving the issue with as little attention as possible.

She glanced across at the prisoner. While she still wasn’t sure exactly how he fit in, she knew there was a link somewhere. All she had to do was dig it out. She had approximately twelve hours until her next debrief, and if she wanted to be the one sent back to complete the assignment, she needed to find something to report.

Martin Rayleigh looked like a man who hadn’t seen sunlight in a long time. His skin was pale, with shadows like bruises under his hazel eyes, and his dark hair was streaked with gray. He was fifty-eight and looked every one of his years, and more. She didn’t know how long he’d been incarcerated—his records were sketchy—but she was guessing a good few years from the look of him. He’d only just surfaced under his own name with his last transfer to this facility. Before that, he’d been kept under a number of aliases.

He returned her gaze and raised an eyebrow. Are you going to tell me what this is about, Agent…?

Lyons. She pulled out the chair and sat down opposite him, studying him, trying to see inside his head. Unfortunately, she couldn’t. Where to start? She’d wanted to meet the man before she decided on her strategy. While she might not be able to read minds, she’d always had a certain empathy, an ability to read people. And this man was…good. That was the only word that came to mind, only it was of no help whatsoever. But despite what he had clearly been through, his gaze was serene, his body relaxed. He wore an orange prison suit, the sleeves rolled up, his hands cuffed to a metal bar on the table in front of him. Beneath the silver cuffs, she could see the signs of old restraints. The scars circling his wrists were healed now, but they would probably be with him for life.

Her original breakthrough, the reason she was in this prison in the first place, had been finding the files on an oversight committee, headed by a Senator Gilpin, set up to look into a mysterious government agency referred to as the Tribe. They were telepaths, in a place and time when telepaths shouldn’t have existed. But she still had no idea what had caused the code red. So her next jump, she’d come back a year later—hoping to find out more. Instead, she’d discovered that the oversight committee was dead, all nine of them, and all from natural causes over a very short period of time. Hardly likely. And she’d found no further references to the Tribe. It was as though the records had been wiped clean. The only thing she did find was an earlier record of someone, a Martin Rayleigh, requesting a review into the Tribe five years earlier—a request that was denied at that time, but which meant he had to be connected somehow. And right now, that made him her only lead.

Would you like a cup of coffee? She hadn’t intended to say that, but he looked so…defeated, as though he’d been through this many times, and expected the worst.

His eyes widened at the words and a slow smile curved his lips, changing his face totally. He peered behind her as if expecting to see someone else. You’re on your own, so you can hardly be going for the good cop, bad cop routine. His voice held a hint of an accent. A soft lilt.

If he thought the offer of a cup of coffee made her a good guy, there wasn’t a lot of competition. She went to the door, opened it a crack, and spoke to the guard. Could you get us two cups of coffee, please.

She closed the door and returned to the table, sat down and studied him for a moment longer. How to begin? She cleared her throat. My name is Melody Lyons. Special Agent Lyons. I’m with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. She twisted in the seat and pulled her nice shiny badge out of her jacket pocket and waved it at him. He didn’t take his eyes from hers. Clearly, the badge didn’t impress him.

Of course you are.

He didn’t believe her.

She could feel a frown drawing her brows together. Did he somehow know? Had she given herself away? Of course not. There was nothing to give away. The badge was real.

He shrugged. Maybe you are, and maybe you aren’t. I’ve come to realize it really doesn’t matter. Ultimately, you’re all working for the same people, whether you know it or not. Now, why are you here?

A knock sounded on the door and a guard entered carrying a tray. He placed it on the table between them. Ma’am. Giving a nod, he left the room.

Rayleigh leaned across the table, his hands clumsy in the cuffs, and wrapped his palms around the mug. If he leaned forward, he had just enough chain to bring the mug to his mouth. He drank, and she let him while she considered what he’d said.

She hadn’t been able to find out why he’d been arrested in the first place. There was no record of his crime. She took a sip of her own coffee. Ugh. It was disgusting. She pushed the mug away from her. I’m investigating the murder of a Senator Gilpin.

He glanced up, put his empty coffee mug down, and sat back in his chair. I didn’t know the senator.

He was killed nine months ago in a gas explosion at his home. It was made to appear an accident, but we have reason to believe it was murder.

Who was he?

How long have you been incarcerated, Mr. Rayleigh?

You don’t know? He sounded skeptical.

She pushed her own coffee mug toward him, and he nodded. Thank you.

The records of your original arrest have been hidden or destroyed. I presume you’ve been kept under various aliases. We only located you when you were transferred to this facility under your own name.

He’d popped up on her files just at the point she’d been about to give up and admit defeat.

And why were you trying to locate me?

I suspect there is some connection between you and an oversight committee set up to look into funding of a covert government operations group based in the United Kingdom. Senator Gilpin was the head of that committee.

And he’s dead?

Along with the other eight members of the committee. All accidents, and all around the same time.

I’ve been imprisoned for over four years. How can I possibly help you with something that happened nine months ago?

Four years? That explained his appearance. But how did that fit in with her investigation? As he’d pointed out, he could hardly have been involved with the oversight committee. But there was a definite connection—she just had to figure out what it was. Time to try a different tack. Have you ever heard of a group referred to as the Tribe?

Something flickered in his eyes. He glanced at the camera in the corner of the room. She’d have to get the tapes before she left; she wanted no record of this conversation. She was here to clean things up, not raise more questions. No, he said.

I believe you’re lying, Mr. Rayleigh.

He slammed the mug down so hard, dirty gray coffee splashed over the steel table top. And I don’t give a fuck.

Hearing the bad language from someone who had seemed so polite brought her up short. She was onto something here, but at the same time, she had no clue how to get the information from him. Her eyes strayed to the marks on his wrists.

What now? he asked. You torture me? Because I have to warn you—it’s been tried before.

No, we don’t torture people, Mr. Rayleigh.

He shook his head. Are you for real?

She pursed her lips. Nine people are dead, Mr. Rayleigh, and it’s my job to find out why.

I told you. I have no clue. I haven’t had contact with the outside world in over four years. So, if you want to prove your good intent, let me call my lawyer.

I’ll look into that. In the meantime—

In the meantime, I’m not saying anything.

Damn.

Mr. Rayleigh, I—

Something crashed outside the door. She jumped to her feet, reaching for her gun, then realized it wasn’t there—she’d handed it in at the security check.

She stood between the door and Rayleigh. Was this an assassination attempt? How the hell could she protect him?

Get down, she shouted over her shoulder.

Rayleigh glanced from her to the door but stayed where he was. Of course, he was chained to the table. His expression was fatalistic, as though he’d expected his imminent death. Maybe even welcomed it.

The door was pushed open slowly from the outside. Mel stepped to the side, so she couldn’t be seen. A man entered, and she whirled around and kicked out, taking him by surprise. He was much taller than her and twice as wide at the shoulder, but the blow flung him back out of the room and onto his back.

She tried to slam the door, but his legs were in the way. She could run, but she didn’t want to leave Rayleigh.

In a flash, it occurred to her that maybe she was going to die here.

She wanted answers first.

Chapter Two

Quinn stared up at the strip light above his head. His vision was black around the edges, and he felt like he’d just been hit by a truck.

Are you okay? Rose asked in his head.

No. Yes. I have no idea.

He was sprawled half in, half out of the room. A pair of horizontal legs were level with his head—presumably belonging to the guard Rose had knocked out.

What the hell had just happened?

He’d presumed Martin was alone in the room—he’d only sensed one person—and that the FBI agent had already left. Obviously not. Because he was guessing it had been the FBI agent who had slammed him in the chest. Why hadn’t he picked up the man’s presence?

His vision cleared, and he saw the bottom of Rose’s boots as they stepped over his head and into the room. Get your lazy ass off the floor, Quinn. We’ve found him. And he’s got company.

Quinn pushed himself to his elbows and peered around Rose’s legs into the small interrogation room.

His gaze locked on a woman standing in front of the table. The FBI agent wasn’t a guy, but a girl. Well, a woman. He’d been knocked flat by a woman. And she was definitely still conscious. He had a quick impression: tall, slender, short dark red hair.

Knock her out, he said to Rose.

I can’t.

What?

I can’t get in her head.

Quinn reached out with his mind and found…nothing.

She moved fast, and Rose flew through the air and crashed into the opposite wall. Damn, she was good.

Quit fucking admiring her and stop her before this goes completely tits up.

The downed guard wasn’t armed with a gun, but there was a taser attached to his work belt. Quinn kept a wary eye on the woman as he reached out and pulled it free. She was keeping her attention divided between him and Rose.

He pushed himself unsteadily to his feet as she took a flying leap at him. Her arm came out and she punched him in the face. Stars exploded in his head. He was ready this time and managed to stay on his feet, but it was a close thing. He didn’t have time to ponder how close because she was squaring up to him again. Her leg came out trying to swipe his from under him and he clasped her shoulders and dragged her close, grappling her.

The extremely inappropriate thought came to him that she might be tall and slender, but she was also soft in all the right places, and it had been a long time since he’d held a woman in his arms. She took advantage of his lack of concentration, and somehow, he was on the floor with her on top of him. He tried to roll, but she was incredibly strong, and he didn’t want to hurt her.

Where the hell did that thought come

Reviews for Uncontrollable

[hotcha-2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

OMG, I WANT MORE NINA! As I rapidly read this novel, I found myself holding my breath in anticipation of WHAT would happen next! First, Special Agent, Melody Lyons from the year 4012 volunteered to go back to the twenty-first century to find an anomaly. She was a human but had been rescued in a flood that took her parent and her brother, she was taken and cared for by her adopted dad. The colonel was from another planet for different than hers. I loved that Melody was a gutsy woman that didn't tale no crap and that she could defend herself in most situations. Quinn Sutherland has special skills as well as the group he worked with, but once the government killed his sister, the group realized that they were the bad guys, then he meets Special Agent, Melody Lyons who cold cocked him when he broken into prison to get his friend out. Now, with no one to trust he and Melody fought for their lives knowing that they both kept secrets from each other! I SURE HOPE THAT THERE'S A SEQUEL IN THE WORKS! PRETTY PLEASE Nina?