“Yes.” Mateo clicked another button. “But I found this, too. From about a week before.”
JF: It’s been brought to my attention that Owen Angelton is not only residing in New York City but has also befriended the roommate of a valuable CRF asset. We believe he is using her for access to information. Suggested action is termination.
GS: Assigned project to Sentinel Charlie.
CC: Suspicions confirmed. Owen Angelton is too close to the asset and requires termination.
GS: Task to be handled personally.
Astasiya’s hand was at her mouth. “The date at the top is the day I mentioned inviting Owen to dinner after graduation.”
“Which would imply they hadn’t known of his existence in the city until then,” Issac deduced. “Then who funded the bar?”
“An excellent query.” Aidan stared thoughtfully at the screen. “It’s potentially a bogus file, but I can’t determine a purpose for it. Have you found anything else on him?”
Mateo shook his head. “These are the only two referencing his name. I also searched for the bar, dates corresponding to when Owen befriended Stas, anything on Stas and Elizabeth living together, and a variety of other items, and these are my only findings thus far.”
“Confirming this to be a crime of circumstance and not related to a history of working together.” Lucian’s lips flattened. “That’s both comforting and disappointing. What have you found on Elizabeth?”
“Nothing.” Mateo sounded frustrated. “Not even a file name.”
“Why would there be information on Lizzie?” Astasiya asked.
Right. Issac hadn’t covered that topic with her yet. “We suspect Elizabeth is a product of the CRF. Likely a failed experiment, or perhaps a successful one. We don’t actually know.”
“A what?” She pulled away from him, her eyes wide. “You think my best friend is an experiment? And you didn’t think to tell me that until now?”
“As Issac said, we don’t know for certain.” Aidan used a soothing tone that did nothing to dispel the fury radiating from Astasiya.
“I’ve had my plate full with explaining our world, and to be honest, this detail escaped me.” Along with surely another dozen or so items. Alas, this particular one was something he should have told her. “For what it’s worth, Elizabeth is completely unaware of everything. From the way she behaves, it’s clear she considers herself human. And maybe she is. The only thing we know with certainty is she is in no way biologically related to Lillian and George Watkins. Until roughly seven years ago, they didn’t have a daughter. She merely showed up one day.”
Astasiya’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, and she just shook her head. “I need a drink.” She pushed away from him and headed toward the kitchen.
Issac sighed, standing. “I’ll fix it.”
“Allow me,” Balthazar said with a look that had Issac pausing midstep. Trust me, his brown eyes implored. Please.
Issac studied him for a long moment before giving a nod. I’ll give you ten minutes.
He returned the nod, his lips twitching in gratitude.
Balthazar could grate on even a saint’s nerves, but when it came down to matters of the heart, he was a loyal friend. Issac trusted him. And most importantly, he trusted Astasiya.
Lizzie is a CRF experiment.
A simple statement, easily voiced, yet completely forgotten.
How?
Stas shook her head and started looking through cabinets for liquor. Preferably, something a hundred proof or higher. The stronger, the better.
“There’s a wet bar in the living area, but as I imagine you need a few minutes to yourself, may I interest you in a glass of wine instead?” Balthazar’s warm tones flowed through the kitchen, causing her to bolt upright from her crouched position by the island. “Or there might be some bourbon in one of the guest suites across the hall, if you prefer.”
She frowned. “Guest suites?”
“Where Issac usually entertains his conquests,” Balthazar murmured, a twinkle in his gaze. “Only family and close friends are allowed in his actual penthouse.” He found a bottle in the fridge and showed it to her. “A white from Northern Italy? It’s one of Issac’s favorites.”
“You know a lot about him,” she observed, folding her arms. Yet, they bickered like rivals. Issac’s distaste for the mind reader was palpable.
He chuckled as he found a corkscrew on his first try. “It’s a brotherly relationship, I assure you. I care quite a bit about him, which is the reason I’m risking my life in his condo at present. Has he told you about my other gift yet?”
She shook her head.
“Can you grab two glasses from the cabinet behind you?” He nodded with his chin toward the wood door in question.
Stas plucked two crystal wineglasses from the shelf and set them on the island.
“I control emotion,” he said while pouring her a small amount. “Taste this and let me know if it suits.”
“You control emotion?” she repeated, taking the glass.
He nodded. “I do. The extent of it matches my ability to read minds, meaning I can hear and control for several miles.”
That’s overwhelming, she thought as she sipped the cold liquid. Mmm, citrusy.
“I hear approval,” he murmured, smiling. He filled himself a glass before topping off hers and sliding it back across the marble. “And yes, it can be overwhelming, especially when someone I care about is distraught or conflicted.” He glanced pointedly at her. “Would you like to know how Issac feels now?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Seems an invasion of privacy, doesn’t it?” If Issac wanted her to know how he felt about something, he’d tell her.
“Sometimes we need a little nudge to express our emotions, Stas. Especially when we’re not accustomed to them.” Balthazar leaned on the island with one forearm resting across the marble countertop, his opposite hand swirling his wine. “I’ve known Wakefield for several centuries, and would you like to know how many women he’s let into his personal quarters?”
She swallowed a healthy sip of her wine, unsure if she wanted the answer. Issac’s reputation as a playboy didn’t bother her, nor did it really thrill her. But she couldn’t hold his past against him.
“One,” Balthazar said, even though she never replied. “You, Stas. Which is why you can imagine my surprise when he took you to his bed, rather than to one of the other suites on this floor, after your Nizari poison incident. This relationship between the two of you has been unique from the beginning.”
Stas set down her now-empty glass and leveled him with a look. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because I want you to understand how special this is, Stas. What you have with Issac is unlike anything he’s ever experienced, and he’s going to make mistakes, such as not telling you about Lizzie up front. But he’s giving it his best effort and he adores you. Try not to be too angry with him for it. You’ve both had an emotionally draining day. I suggest you work it off in an active manner rather than a negatively reactive one.” He finished his wine and collected their glasses, placing them in the sink.
Issac entered, his expression sheltered as he took in the bottle on the counter. “Aidan and Lucian are going through all the files Mateo downloaded to memorize and sort through the details.”
“Yes, I hear them,” Balthazar said, his lips curling down. “Some of the project names are disturbingly cryptic. Aidan is toying with anagrams in his head, which makes it worse.”
“Most days, I do not envy your talent,” Issac admitted, a hint of a grin glimmering in his sapphire eyes.
Balthazar shrugged. “No worse than seeing the fantasies of a million people at once, I imagine. Speaking of…” Sin danced through his features, causing Issac to growl low in his throat.
“Continue down that path and I’ll turn it into a nightmare you won’t soon forget.” He glanced pointedly at a set of knives on the counter.
“That’s just cruel.”
“You thinking I’d ever let you top me is wicked, too.”
Stas blinked, the image forming behind her eyes unbidden. The two of them in bed together would be—
“Explosive,” Balthazar finished for her. “And next time I’ll imagine you topping me, Wakefield. Just for fun.” He winked before sauntering out of the kitchen, completely unfazed by the glower Issac sent after him.
“Is he, uh, serious?” Stas couldn’t help asking.
“Balthazar never jokes about sex,” Issac muttered. “So, unfortunately, yes. And he’s been suggesting it for nearly three centuries now.”
Her lips parted. “That long?” And it’s never happened?
“He knows it’s an impossibility, which only makes it more fun for him.” Issac sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before meeting her gaze again. A beat passed between them, and a hint of wariness settled across his features. “I’m sorry, Aya. I should have told you about Elizabeth earlier. With everything else requiring an explanation, I didn’t think about it. And now with Amelia…” Pain flickered in the depths of his gaze, sending an arrow through her heart.
His sister wasn’t just alive, but was being held captive by the man he despised. Issac must feel so angry and guilty for not searching for her, for not saving his sister. And that was all made worse now by his inability to go after her.
Because as much as everyone hated to wait, Aidan and Luc were right. They needed a plan founded on strategy, not emotion.
“I’m sorry,” Issac repeated softly. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you.”
Oh, Issac. He mistook her silence for anger. But she didn’t have it in her to be mad at him. Not after everything they’d been through.
She moved past the counter and wrapped her arms around him, choosing actions over words. Because he looked like he needed a hug, and the way he clung to her in response proved it. His lips fell to her neck, his nose buried against her skin as he held her tightly.
“Aya,” he breathed.
“I’m not upset,” she whispered. “I understand.”
“I should have told you.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “But I know now. And it only fuels my decision to go after Jonathan. He’s taken too much from us. He won’t take Lizzie, too.” Her roommate might be an experiment, as they called her, but she was still Stas’s best friend. “I won’t let him hurt her.”
Issac remained quiet for a long moment, his arms a protective band across her lower back, his mouth heated against her neck. “You want to take the job.”
“I do.” It was the only logical course. She would learn more about the CRF Sentinel program, the underground, and the experiments and feed all the details back to the others. “Those files are somewhere,” she added. “If Jonathan lets me get close enough, I’ll find them.” And Mateo would equip her with the means necessary to do it. “We’ll destroy him, Issac. And we’ll find the information we need to save those we care about. It’s our best move.”
His exhale scattered goose bumps down her neck. It was long, low, and hot.
“You’re so strong, my Aya.” He kissed her pulse and lifted to press his forehead to hers. “This won’t be easy.”
“I know.” It would be the hardest task of her life. Even harder than saying goodbye to her parents. “But we don’t have a choice.” She needed to do this for Owen, for Lizzie, and for Amelia. And she knew Issac felt the same. “It’s the right decision.”
“Yes,” he whispered, his exhale a breath against her lips. “We’re in this together.”
“Always,” she agreed.
“Always,” he repeated, brushing his mouth against hers. Electricity hummed across her skin, his kiss sealing an unspoken promise between their souls. He repeated the action, sending a jolt through her bloodstream. And again, this one harsher, more urgent.
“Issac.” His name was part plea, part vow. She didn’t know what she wanted, but it translated to a desperate sound in the back of her throat that he silenced with his tongue.
His fingers knotted in her hair to angle her head to where he desired, his kiss intense. Hard. Thorough. Possessive. He put everything he owned into their embrace, and she returned every emotion with one of her own.
Pain.
Sadness.
Heartache.
Confusion.
Joy.
Because while she’d experienced hell over the last few weeks, she’d also been introduced to a passion unlike any she’d ever known.
“I need you,” he whispered, lifting her onto the counter and stepping between her legs. “Fuck, I need you, Aya.” His hands were on her pants, his thumb on the button. “Distract me, please. I can’t think anymore. It’s driving me to insanity.”
The beseeching quality in his voice said everything.
Issac wanted to lose himself in passion, to forget the present, to forget the hopelessness of Amelia’s situation, to forget his inability to help his sister escape.
And he’d chosen Stas to help him through it.
To provide him with the release he needed from reality.
She would never deny him. Somehow, at some point, he’d become a part of her, adhering himself to her heart and soul and binding them for eternity. Their future didn’t matter in the present.
All that mattered was the here and now, the heavy emotion flourishing between them, and the passion only he could unleash in her.
She kissed him again, her fingers threading through his hair as she answered him without words.
Take me.
Use me.
Love me.
I’m yours.
31
Blood Vows
Issac lost himself in Astasiya’s mouth, her tongue doing things to him that he could hardly comprehend, let alone describe.
He felt possessed.
Adored.
It was exactly the distraction he craved. She was his cure to the madness lurking in his thoughts. The only one keeping him grounded. His rock.
It terrified him.
Floored him.
Left him vulnerable in a way he’d never experienced.
Yet, she also strengthened him.
The convoluted combination drugged him, shadowing his mind and soothing his soul. All he could do was enjoy the afterglow and take what she readily gave, to sink into her body and connect them on a level that shouldn’t exist.
Mine.
The impossibility of their relationship no longer mattered. Issac adored a challenge. They would figure this out. Somehow, someway, they would make this work.
He led her to his room, not caring at all that they still had company in the living area, and ordered her to strip beside his bed. Her blouse and bra fell to the floor. Her boots, socks, and pants followed. Then her lace thong, an item he should have removed with his teeth, fell to the top of the pile, leaving her naked and flushed before him.
Perfection.
Curved in all the right places.
Confident.
Legs for days.
His ideal woman, his partner, his Aya.
“On the bed, darling,” he murmured, his gaze running over her in a heated wave.
That she obeyed him thrilled him all the more. Her stiff nipples and quivering thighs said she returned the sentiment.
Her blonde hair spilled over Issac’s pillows, her gaze hooded as she watched him loosen his tie. He considered binding her wrists to his headboard, knowing it would leave her open and exposed to his touch.
But he needed her hands on him tonight. Her lips. Her tongue. Everything she had to offer.
He tossed his tie onto the ground beside her clothes and began unfastening his cuff links. Astasiya’s green eyes flared with desire as she watched, her tongue dampening her swollen lower lip.
“Spread your legs,” he demanded, needing to see her aroused flesh.
She complied on a moan that went straight to his cock. He adored that sound, enjoyed even more the damp haven between her thighs.
I
ssac slowly unbuttoned his shirt, prolonging the anticipation and admiring the flush creeping over her skin. She’d not balked as he strode her past the others in the living area, fully trusting him to shield their presence from everyone in the room. He hadn’t even needed to explain; she merely knew.
Their connection only intensified the intimacy flowing between them, her faith in him fueling his need to fuck her.
Mmm, no, not quite the right word. He was craving something slower, more thorough, and underlined in passion.
Her gorgeous eyes danced appreciatively over his chest and abdomen, his shirt falling to the floor behind him. Followed by his belt, pants, and boxer briefs. His shoes and socks were long forgotten, leaving him naked as he knelt on the bed.
Astasiya reached for him as he crawled over her. He took her mouth in a kiss meant to brand, to own, to possess, his tongue demanding reciprocation and devotion. She conceded on a groan, her nails digging into his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist. Slick, wet heat met his erection, her body more than ready to take him despite their minimal foreplay. And as much as he wanted to take his time, he also needed to feel her, to take her, to claim her.
She cried out as he slid into her on a harsh thrust, her back bowing off the bed. “Issac,” she breathed, her body trembling beneath him. “Fuck.”
“Too much?” he murmured, his lips tracing her jaw.
“Not enough.” She pressed into him, forcing him deeper, her heels digging into his ass. “More.”
“Mmm.” He drew his nose across her cheek, his mouth tasting her skin as he went. “What if I prefer slow?” He demonstrated with his hips.
She growled in response. “Don’t hold back on me now.”
“Maybe I want to worship you.” He continued the unhurried motion, driving them both mad and loving every minute.
“Liar,” she accused, breathless. “Gentle isn’t in your nature.”
“Care to test that theory?” he asked softly.
He swallowed her responding groan, his tongue parting her lips to engage her in a passionate dance between their mouths.
Fuck, he adored kissing this woman. It satisfied him on a level he didn’t know existed until her. And the way her hand curled around the back of his neck, holding him in place, suggested she felt the same.
Vote Then Read: Volume I Page 156
