The Seven: A Taste for Jazz: Book 3 of The Seven series Read Free

that possessed the potential to affect great change, assuaging his conscience with the promise that once he'd discovered the secret he was searching for, he'd find a way to make it beneficial not to just the Seven but to everyone.
    Conner was smart enough to know there was no guarantee the world would benefit if he succeeded. He'd been around long enough to understand there were those who would do anything necessary to bury it. The cost to those few would be enormous. Empires who'd ruled the global economy would fall. There was too much money and too much power at stake.
    Not his concern. He wouldn't think of those things. He'd made sure everyone who knew Rockwell Burns was convinced he was no longer interested in research. His life now centered on much simpler things. Fighting, bikes and women.
    The latter had proven to be a continued source of dissatisfaction. It wasn't due to a shortage of women. Particularly in an area like Kissimmee. This was resort central, with at least half a million tourists in the area on any given day of the years, many of them women eager for an adventure while their children played in the magic of the kingdom of Disney and their husbands chased little white golf balls over pristine green fairways.
    Conner, or Rock as he thought of himself now, stuck to the married ones, women keen on the idea of a holiday fling with a roughneck biker. He gave them a ride on his bike, rode them hard for a few days and then parted ways, moving onto the next eager temporary companion.
    In some ways, he considered himself a whore. Selling his body in exchange for a few hours pleasure and distraction with no emotions involved.
    Initially, it provided a thrill. The illicit affair, sneaking around, risking being caught. Now he'd grown tired of the game. The problem finding another option. He'd yet to meet a woman who challenged him, mentally or physically, and that was what he secretly desired.
    But desires, he'd learned, were far too often left unfulfilled. And it seemed to be his lot in life to fail in the quest for a meaningful relationship.
    Pushing aside thoughts of what he did not have, he pressed the bike for a little more speed. Maybe it was a day for speed after all. If his demons were going to pursue him, then he'd just make sure they had to move fast to catch up with him.
     
    *****
    Jazz let Stanzia finish before she spoke. "Look, I'm not calling you a liar. It's pretty clear that you believe all this. But I have to be honest with you. It doesn't track with me. It's too...far out. Besides, it's not my line of work. I'm a bounty hunter. I've done some bodyguard gigs from time to time, but baby-sit some brain-trust MIT shifter dweeb?"
    "You're his only hope," Stanzia said in way of an answer. "This man is vital to us all, Jasmine—excuse me, Jazz. He must stay safe and finish his work. It's our only hope of turning back the damage that's already been done to this world. Without this invention, the decimation of the atmosphere and the poisoning of the planet will continue until Mother Nature will have no recourse but to take matters into her own hands. And that—well, that will spell the end of everything man has built."
    "You're convincing. I'll give you that. But I'm still just not buying it. In fact, I think I'd like to wake up now, so maybe I'll just close my eyes for a bit."
    She did just that. Leaned back, stretched her legs out in front of her, crossed at the ankles, and closed her eyes.
    Stanzia rose and left the room. She returned a few moments later with a large hand-bound book. She placed it on Jazz's lap as she retook her seat on the divan.
    "What's this?" Jazz opened her eyes and glanced down at the book.
    "Open it."
    With a sigh, Jazz straightened in her seat and opened the book about halfway through its contents. On the left-hand page were incomprehensible scribbles. On the right hand page was a large mandala.
    "Okay." Jazz's gaze mover to Stanzia.
    "Place your hand inside the mandala."
    "On