The Tassone scion came last, and as he stepped through the doorway, Addai felt the release of a spell. Trap!
In an instant the men lying on the deck were freed from their fear. They rose, drawing their knives and rushing forward.
A thought and Addai’s sword came to him. With the sweep of his arm, it sliced through the first of the men, measuring the darkness of his soul. Drinking in memories of rape, and the intention to do the same to the scions before delivering them to someone else.
The second and third men died just as quickly. Their evil measured as their spirits were cast into the ghostlands to be enjoyed by those who hunted and tormented there.
Pawns, Addai thought, anticipating the appearance of his brother.
Caphriel didn’t disappoint. He arrived in a flash of glory, his wings the same snowy white of Addai’s.
His attention went immediately to Sajia, and his smile held equal measures of amusement and cruelty. “When last we met, I wondered what drew you to lost causes, brother. Now it seems I’ve found your motivation, and a way to save you from yourself. Shall we keep this fight between us, or should we summon others and add to the fun?”
“Does your most recent defeat in the Were lands leave you needing to call for reinforcements?”
Caphriel laughed, slicing through the air with his sword in a playful manner. “She is sweet, but knowing you grieve her loss will be sweeter.”
“I’ll kill you first.”
Caphriel smiled an instant before he lunged, his sword connecting with Addai’s in a series of blows meant to drive Addai to the right and leave an opening to Sajia.
One touch, one bite of the blade could deliver death, instant to her human form and slow, like an icy poison, to her Djinn one.
In a fury of desperation Addai thrust and parried, wielding his sword like a fencer’s blade. He scored a hit on Caphriel and received one in return across his belly.
Blood escaped in streams and pain streaked through him. Unlike punishment delivered by an earthly weapon, the damage done by Caphriel’s couldn’t be healed instantly by will alone. Wouldn’t be healed at all if they fought to true death.
Fear drenched Addai, choice arriving once again. If he set Sajia free, then she would know he’d kept her imprisoned in form when she might have found Corinne earlier. She’d know he could have eased her mind, eradicated the terror of what happened in those times when she blacked out.
Learning the truth would crush the love just starting to blossom in her heart, leaving distrust and hate in its place—forever if he defeated Caphriel, or for the last moments of her life if he failed her once again.
He’d loved her once but not been willing to risk everything. A moment of indecision had led to thousands of years of regret.
Trust in what was beyond his control didn’t come easily to him. But arrogance did.
He’d win her heart again if necessary.
Addai spoke the word to unravel the spell written in angelic script on her body.
Behind him Sajia gasped, but he couldn’t afford to turn his attention from his brother, because in that instant, Caphriel launched an attack meant to make good on his threat to end Sajia’s life.
Sajia remained standing by force of will alone as the scorpion-shaped pendant she’d worn all her life burned against her flesh, delivering knowledge in a molten pour that scorched through her like melted rock and creation fire, revealing a heritage nearly beyond comprehension. Djinn.
Daughter of Earth. Scorpion-souled. Protector of her people and the world that gave birth to her. Enemy to those not of this world: the angels who battled in front of her as well as the vampires the scions behind her would one day become.
The need to slay her enemies blossomed like a black rose in her chest, thorns of hate piercing her, as if they’d anchor themselves in her soul. But almost immediately came thoughts of Addai, the memories they’d created in the short time they were together. Tenderness and sacrifice. Pleasure and pain.
Those memories were followed by equally powerful ones. Of the humans who’d made her part of their family, though now she understood there was no true genetic link to them. Of the still-human Corinne, in ways like a younger sister.
The thorns of hate found no place to reside in Sajia’s spirit. Fiery, elemental passion filled her, hot and intense, like a sandstorm sweeping across the desert and bringing with it the need to protect, to love, to live.
She thought to turn long enough to place the knives in the scions’ hands so they could protect themselves and she could change form and join Addai. But before she could do it, he cut his brother so deeply that Caphriel’s sword hand hung from cleaved muscle and severed bone, blood gushing as his free hand gripped the near stump, fingers clamping down like a tourniquet.
The tip of Addai’s sword lodged itself in Caphriel’s chest, piercing skin but not yet ending life. And even then, Caphriel laughed, taunted, “Do you dare, brother? My death might just turn our father’s gaze back to this forsaken world. Will you risk it? Are you ready for his wrath? Are your allies ready? Peace, brother. For today. And tomorrow. For thirty days and then we will begin our games again.”
Sajia went to Addai’s side, her own blades sheathed. With the illusion of being human stripped away, her doubts about him fled. For a being whose existence spanned eternity, only the essence of who someone was mattered, the soul without regard to form, and hers called out to his just as his did to hers.
She placed her hand on Addai’s arm. “Let him go.”
“And have him make a game of trying to kill you?”
In his voice she heard a willingness to damn them all because of his love for her. And despite the threat of it, tenderness welled inside her, bringing with it an understanding that delivering death came far easier to him than trusting in life.
Stroking her hand along the edge of Addai’s wing, she said, “I believe I’ve told you several times now that I am not the same woman I once was. I won’t be so easy to kill this time.”
Emotion clogged Addai’s throat. So intense it would have taken him to his knees had they been alone.
The desire to return to the chalet with Sajia overpowered him, pushing him to hurry and be done with Caphriel and his games. “Ninety days,” he said, bargaining as he had with Rimmon.
“Sixty. Beyond that, death would be a sweet release from the ennui.”
“Sixty,” Addai agreed, pulling his sword from Caphriel’s chest.
Caphriel’s form faded away in a weak shimmer, but his voice was strong in Addai’s mind. Enjoy her for the time she’s yours. The next victory will be mine, brother.
Addai sheathed his sword, and with its disappearance his wings also vanished. He turned, hardly daring to believe what he saw in Sajia’s eyes, what he’d heard in her voice moments earlier. Acceptance rather than repudiation. Love rather than hate.
I have never desired another as I do you. There has been no other for me since that day we first met. “I feared—”
She touched her fingertips to his lips, silencing him. “You should if you intend to keep secrets from me or treat me as a prisoner.”
His heart was light, filled with such joy that he smiled against her fingers, teased, Not a prisoner, but a love slave.
He accompanied the words with an image projected into her mind, the recent past overlaid onto a far more distant one, of her naked on her knees before him, eyes pleading and hands placed in supplication on his thighs as she both waited for his command to pleasure him and pleaded for him to give it.
Sajia laughed, a sultry sound that had him hardening regardless of the blood pouring from his wounds. But then she grew somber, “You’re not healing.”
“I will with our return to the chalet.”
In her need to get to Addai’s side, concern for the teens had fled Sajia’s thoughts completely. They remained near the cabin doorway.
Neither seemed shocked or awed at having witnessed a battle between angels. They knew of the existence of such
beings, she realized, guessing it was part of the history lessons reserved for scions.
The vampires of this world are the pale remains of beings fought elsewhere by my kind, Addai said, a shadow in her mind or anticipating her thoughts.
The noise of fast, powerful engines had them all looking toward San Francisco. And within minutes a swarm of speedboats had surrounded them.
Guards armed with machine guns boarded, efficiently clearing it of danger, their last duties to search the dead men then flip the bodies into the water.
A man who could only be a Tassone High Servant joined them on the deck of the fishing boat then. He was lethal beauty and deadly charm, his graceful movements making Sajia think of a cobra.
She suppressed a shiver when storm gray eyes became smooth steel, the change in them pronounced, arriving with the alien presence of the Tassone master as he took possession of his servant’s body. This was a vampire’s ultimate escape—if they were willing to sacrifice power for continued life—to be able to completely abandon their own body, leaving it behind to burn or rot or sink to the depths of the ocean while they lived on in another’s.
His gaze flickered over her, taking note of the Tucci marks on her arm before settling on Addai. “Apparently I am in your debt. What do you require to discharge it?”
“It can be accomplished easily enough. Arrange a betrothal between Sebastian and Corinne, and as part of your terms to the Tucci, Sajia is to be freed from her oath.”
“And why would I want to do that, when apparently her service would also bring me yours?”
A trap neatly laid and neatly sprung, Addai thought, the message Irial carried, reminding him that Sajia’s return was part of the weave creating alliance, now just another part of the pattern. And yet with Sajia beside him, he could muster no rage at the maneuverings that would result in him being tethered to vampires.
“For you to call on me as an ally, then you would also have to offer protection to Sajia’s family and safe harbor for the Constellation .”
“Done. Thane will see to matters until sunset, then I’ll send for the Tucci master and make arrangements.”
A blink and the vampire’s presence vanished, allowing his servant’s soul to escape whatever dark prison it’d been banished to.
Addai led Sajia into the cabin and closed the door. The wings he’d hidden after defeating Caphriel materialized as he took her into his arms.
“Home now,” he said, willing his clothes away in the same thought that took them to the chalet.
He unbound her hair as she stood in his embrace. Its silky length trailed down her back and the enticing curve of her buttocks.
“I could command you to disrobe,” he murmured. “And return to your lessons of submission.”
“Or you could make love to me,” she countered. “And we could continue creating new memories together.”
He laughed and quickly tugged her clothing from her body, a flash of possessiveness making him say, “Shift. Rid yourself of the Tucci marks.”
Sajia changed, taking the scorpion’s form in reminder and warning that he’d feel the sting of her ire if he thought to make her into something she wasn’t. Returning to his arms when she became woman again, her skin free of scarring.
Be mine, he said, giving her a choice.
I already am.
Say the words.
She touched her lips to his, sharing breath and soul. My spirit to yours.
Always, beloved. And as Djinn fire coursed through Addai’s veins and a tattoolike scorpion appeared above his heart, he lifted her, joining their bodies, evoking the incantation and forever binding his existence to hers.
Primal Kiss
LORA LEIGH
They draw us in.
They fire our blood, make us dream.
They give us comfort when the world turns dark.
They warm us when we’re cold.
They begin our fantasies, they end them,
and when we dream, when we reach for the perfect
fantasy, they’re always there.
This book is for that ideal, that comfort, that
fantasy, and that dream.
This book is for,
that perfect kiss.
PROLOGUE
FELINE BREED HOME BASE
SANCTUARY
BUFFALO GAP, VIRGINIA
The secured communications and defense bunker sat inside the base of a mountain less than a quarter of a mile from the main family residence in the valley now known as Sanctuary.
The main level was mission control, outfitted with the most technologically advanced electronics, satellite tracking equipment, and mission communications available.
The main level was also the entry level, with the first entrance winding through the various workstations from which orders were transmitted and Breed missions tracked throughout the world.
Sanctuary was the main mission base that the Breeds, the ultimate fighting machine, the balance between man and beast, were hired from and sent around the world to fight in the wars the non-Breeds began.
They were extraction experts, the perfect spies, assassins, trainers, commanders, and the best logistics experts in the world, and they were in high demand.
Mission control was never silent.
The second entrance was further around the side of the mountain, hidden from the main house and sheltered by a thick grove of trees. It opened into a serene lobby that could have graced the most expensive, most exclusive resort but was actually the site of the single most state-of-the art security system ever created. Breed guards manned the entrance both inside and out, while advanced surveillance apparatus scanned, identified, and logged even the stray insects that managed to breech the glass and metal doors.
The lobbylike setting was in fact the entrance to the Breed labs, and thus the security employed was even greater than that for mission control. In the past six months, the entrance had been all but welded closed and buried in an attempt to ensure an impenetrable defense against unauthorized access or exit by any Breed daring to betray the community fighting to save Breedkind.
Breed traitors weren’t unheard of. There had been more than one in the fourteen years since the feline pride leader, Callan Lyons, had announced to the non-Breed world the existence of the Breeds.
He was both cursed and revered for his decision. There were days he wondered if he had made a mistake that would eventually destroy them all, or if history would see him as a visionary who had taken the only path the Genetics Council had left him.
Now, as he swiped the security card through the reader, then laid his palm on the electronic identification plate, he cursed himself.
Leaning closer for the retinal scan, he waited.
“Hello, Pride Leader Lyons, may I have your passcode?”
“Lyons, alpha, niner six, point seven three eight.”
“Thank you, Alpha Lyons. I detect you have guests. Please pass alone. Each guest must pass verification before being allowed access into the inner lobby.”
The electronic security couldn’t be ordered, manipulated, or bribed. It could be programmed, but even that programming had so many damned safeguards that just setting the passcodes for today’s meeting had taken more than thirty-six hours. He almost grimaced at the necessity of it.
As the doors slid open, he passed into the lobby, stood back, and waited as each of his “guests” went through the same security. Standing in the lobby, he could feel the faintest wash of heat over his flesh, a warmth most humans wouldn’t detect but any Breed would sense.
To complete its verification function, the bio-scan system would compare his blood type, any unique internal anomalies, and the scan of his brain to the ones on file for him, just as it would for each of those coming behind him.
Taking this entrance into the labs wasn’t the quickest way in, but it was the quietest. If they entered through the main house, family, Breeds, the human soldiers assigned to Sanctuary, and most especially any Breed spies stil
l left within the base would be aware of it. Going through mission control held the same lack of discretion. And a few of those meeting today were men and women the feline, wolf, and coyote Breeds had gone to great lengths to hide.
They were there for a job, to make decisions that none of them were truly prepared to make and the additional security allowed for this meeting, and would give the participants the ability to make the decisions needed based on a live scrutiny of the situation at hand.
Feline Pride Leader Callan Lyons was certain that those with him today were, like him, unsure how to handle what they were about to face. The director of Breed affairs, Jonas Wyatt; the wolf Breed alpha, Wolfe Gunnar; and the coyote Breed alpha, Del-Rey Delgado, were accompanied by the scientist Jeffrey Amburg, a human Jonas had managed to capture nearly two years before. Others that must remain hidden included a human geneticist known for her advanced research in genetic anomalies, Amelia Trace. Alexi Chernov and Katya Sobolov, coyote genetic and physiological experts, stood next to her. Behind them stood Dr. Nikki Armani, council trained and human and one of the foremost experts on wolf biological, genetic, and physiological attributes. One by one they moved to the scanners, gave their passcodes, and stepped inside.
The feline Breed genetic expert, Elyianna Morrey, waited in the labs below with Jonas Wyatt’s latest captive and the scourge of the Breeds.
The arrival of the other alphas and scientists was a closely guarded secret. The heli-jet that had flown them in was listed as delivering medical supplies and had landed in the secure area outside the labs to offload the fictional medical supplies.
Every precaution had been taken, but Callan had no doubt rumors of the visit were already swirling. No matter their attempts, it still seemed Sanctuary was plagued by too many eyes and ears that reported to either the Council fighting to destroy them, the pureblood groups determined to imprison them, or simply a host of other enemies that believed the Breeds were a sign of the destruction of humanity.
The fact that there were Breeds still betraying their own was an acid eating at his soul. The cruelty the Breeds had suffered in the labs hadn’t been enough for some, it seemed. Compelled by bald-faced greed, the Breed traitors would send their fellow Breeds back to the labs and see them destroyed.
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