Dark Operative_A Shadow of Death

by I. T. Lucas

  "I've never thought I could climax like that with a human male. You're an extraordinary lover, Victor."

  The words would've made any man swell with pride, and Turner wasn't immune, but he couldn't take the full credit for what had just happened between them. Their chemistry was off the chart.

  Hell, it was alchemy—chemistry mixed with magic.

  "Thank you. But it was you. I've never experienced anything like that with anyone else."

  "Me neither." She cupped his cheek, her hooded eyes still full of passion and some tender feeling he couldn't decipher. "This was just the prelude. I have a feeling the main act is going to be epic."

  Chapter 26: Bridget

  The man looking at her with so much passion in his eyes was not the same one that Bridget had gotten to know over the past two days.

  Everything she'd thought about him was wrong. A first for her. Usually, she was pretty good at reading people. But maybe that was because their scents revealed so much.

  Turner's scent still didn't reveal a thing, not even now when his entire body radiated with passion and feelings she hadn't thought him capable of.

  The guy either had a split personality or was putting up an Oscar-worthy performance. Both were unlikely for the vast majority of people, but a highly intelligent sociopath could have developed superior acting skills to help him blend into society.

  The scientist in her accepted that this was the most logical explanation for the dichotomy between lack of emotional scents and a show of intense feelings. An aroused male, human or immortal, emitted a powerful and unmistakable aroma that no one could fake. A show of emotions was another story.

  Her gut disagreed.

  Perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part, but there could have been a biological reason for Turner's lack of emotional scents. She'd never encountered anyone like that before, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. Turner could have been an anomaly.

  The sad truth was that it didn't really matter.

  Turner was not a prospective life partner, and she should enjoy her time with him as much as she could for as long as it lasted, even if he was putting on an act and this was make-believe.

  It was highly unlikely that he was a Dormant, which in a way was a relief because Bridget had a feeling nothing would dissuade Turner from attempting transition, and she would have no choice but to approve it. If she prohibited it based on his medical condition, he might retaliate by exposing the clan.

  The man was ruthless enough to do that.

  What did it say about her that she found a man who walked such a thin line between good and evil fascinating and irresistible?

  Was she a thrill seeker?

  Was she so bored with the monotony of her life that she craved danger?

  And did it matter if she did?

  The only consequence relevant to her would be her emotional state once the two weeks she'd asked for were over.

  Bridget wasn't a naive young girl whose heart was in danger of breaking. At her age and with her life experience she could just enjoy the ride.

  Her racing mind had processed all of that in the time it had taken Turner to ease over onto his side and wrap his arms around her, holding her close as if she was dear to him.

  He kissed her forehead, then her nose, finally reaching her lips for a scorching kiss that was not refined or practiced but filled with lust and hunger.

  With Turner's powerful arms holding her close and his muscular chest pressed against her breasts, Bridget felt her desire reawaken, going from ten to a hundred in seconds. This man revved her engine like no other. The electrical energy surging between them was enough to power a skyscraper.

  "What are you doing to me?" he whispered as he came up for air. "I'm out of control with need for you."

  His words sounded so heartfelt it was easy for Bridget to pretend he'd meant them. Especially since she needed him just as badly.

  "Then take me."

  He groaned. "I have a condom in my wallet. But I don't want to let go of you even for a second. I'm afraid you'll disappear like a mirage because I still can't believe you're real."

  He was good, she had to give him that. Not only was Turner a fantastic actor, but he was also a talented scriptwriter.

  "There is no need for a condom. I'm immune to human diseases and I can't transfer them either."

  "What about pregnancy?"

  "Highly unlikely. There is a reason we are almost extinct."

  "But there is a chance."

  "So slim that it is negligible. And even if by some miracle I get pregnant, I would be overjoyed to have another child. But if you feel so strongly about it, you're welcome to go and retrieve it."

  She smirked. "It was a bit presumptuous of you to come prepared like this."

  "I had hopes. A beautiful woman inviting me to dinner at her home, one thing could lead to another. You should know by now that I'm not the kind of man who comes unprepared."

  She reached between their bodies and closed her hand around his shaft. It pulsed in her hold, getting even harder. "I don't know about you, but I like the feel of skin on skin. It's not the same with a barrier."

  Turner groaned. "You're killing me, woman. I don't even remember what it feels like without one."

  "Then it is time to remind you." She rubbed her thumb over the tiny moist slit, using his own lubricant to slide her hand from tip to base and then up again.

  Bridget held on as he flipped her on her back and got on top of her. Spreading her legs wide, she guided him inside her.

  For some reason, she expected him to inch slowly into her, but he surged all the way in, bottoming out at her cervix and wresting a gasp from her throat.

  The sudden invasion wasn't painful, or even uncomfortable, and once that moment of surprise had passed and she could concentrate on the feel of him inside her, Bridget sighed in contentment.

  Turner groaned. "God, I have died and gone to heaven."

  "Not yet." She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. He wasn't going anywhere.

  Their fit was perfect as if their bodies were created to complete each other.

  He filled her up just right.

  And when he began to move, slowly, deliberately, she met each hard thrust with an upward motion of her own.

  As she closed her eyes, letting her head drop back on the pillow, Turner latched onto her neck, sucking and nipping and sending a volley of electrical currents down to her core. The sparks combined with those created by the exquisite friction of his shaft, amplifying the sensation.

  The man might not have known what to do on a date, but he certainly knew what to do with a woman's body.

  As he started swiveling his hips with every hard thrust, the corkscrew motion alone was enough to trigger her orgasm.

  He held her tight as it exploded through her, her sheath tightening around him in a spasming grip and wresting the last of his control away from him.

  Bridget felt Turner grow harder and thicker as he gripped her nape, forcing her to look into his intense gray eyes as if to make sure she knew who was taking her.

  As he pounded into her, he kept her gaze until his expression turned from intense to ferocious and his impending completion forced an animalistic growl out of him. Throwing his head back, his face contorting with the brutal force of his climax, Turner shouted her name, then collapsed on top of her, his gasping breaths moistening the curve of her neck.

  Bridget cupped his cheeks and lifted his head, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

  "Bridget," he whispered her name almost reverently as he lifted up. Leaning on one elbow, he brushed his fingers over her cheek.

  "Victor." She smiled at him before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep.

  Chapter 27: Losham

  "Sir, I have Gommed on the line. He wishes to speak to you." Rami handed Losham his cellphone.

  "Yes, Gommed."

  "Good evening, sir. You wanted me to report as soon as another man went off the grid. Mordan didn't ret
urn from his walkabout, and he is not answering his phone."

  "How long ago was he supposed to check in?"

  "Less than half an hour ago, but you asked to be informed immediately, sir."

  "Yes, I did. Thank you, Gommed."

  "What are my orders, sir?"

  "Text me his last known location, and then sit tight and wait for further instructions."

  "Yes, sir."

  After the new trackers had arrived, before going out into the field the men had been ordered to glue one under the arch of their feet, put one in their wallets, and hide two more in the seams of their clothing. Losham's new instructions were to spread out the same as they had done before, but only pretend to hunt for women. They could seduce them and do whatever else they pleased, but there was no further need to kill the victims.

  The new orders had been received as a huge relief by the men who hadn't been too happy about killing females and wasting healthy breeders. If the ones who had gone missing had defected because they couldn't stomach the killings, then the disappearances should have stopped.

  But if the men had been snatched by Guardians, then the next one to go missing would lead Losham to the Guardians' home base. All he would need to do was follow the tracker.

  Rami was already on his laptop, pulling up the tracking application.

  "I've got it."

  Losham leaned over his assistant's shoulder. "Where is he?"

  "Same place he was supposed to be." Rami zoomed out, showing Losham the area. It corresponded with what Gommed had said.

  "Call for the car. We are going there."

  Rami lifted his head. "I'm sure Gommed can handle it, sir. You shouldn't expose yourself to unnecessary risk."

  "Do as I say, Rami. I need to see it with my own eyes."

  "Yes, sir. Should I tell Gommed to meet us there?" Rami's eyes pleaded for him to say yes.

  Losham wondered if his assistant was worried about Losham's safety or his own hide. Rami was right to suspect that the clan might have figured out their game, though, and that they were getting lured into a trap.

  "Certainly. Have him wait for us at that location with at least six armed men. The Guardians might be lying in wait for us."

  "Yes, sir."

  He heard Rami provide the coordinates to Gommed.

  "Tell him not to touch anything until I get there. No matter what he finds."

  Rami repeated Losham's instructions.

  "Is he still in the same spot?"

  "Yes, sir. He hasn't moved from there."

  "Are all his trackers with him?"

  "Yes, sir. I'm getting all four signals from the same spot."

  Unless the guy was taking a nap on duty, he was either dead, or incapacitated, or had discarded his trackers before running off.

  Less than an hour later, Losham and Rami arrived at the alley the signal was coming from.

  Gommed and his men were in position, their weapons hidden under their jackets.

  Rami pulled out the close-range receiver and made a swiping motion with his arm. "The signals are coming from the dumpster."

  "Open it up," Losham commanded.

  Gommed and one of his soldiers hurried to comply.

  "Is there a body?" Losham asked, holding his breath to avoid inhaling the stench coming out of the thing.

  "No, sir."

  Losham felt his face heat up, something he hadn't experienced since he was a boy.

  "One of you get inside and search for the trackers."

  His men were defecting. There was no greater humiliation than that. Navuh would lose all respect for him. Losham had to cover it up somehow.

  Rami was loyal and would keep his mouth shut, but the warriors were another story. He would have to eliminate them and make it look like an accident somehow.

  Without a moment's hesitation, Gommed jumped into the dumpster and started rummaging through the trash.

  A few minutes later he emerged, holding a pair of boots. "Those are his. I'm going back to look for more." He handed the boots to one of the soldiers.

  "Bring them over here," Losham commanded.

  The man rushed over and put the boots on the ground next to Losham.

  "Not there. Hand them to me."

  The soldier picked them up. "They are dirty, sir."

  "I'm aware of that." He snatched the boots from the guy's hands and brought them close to his nose.

  The stench of the dumpster was overpowering, but underneath it Losham smelled blood. An immortal's blood. "He was injured."

  "I got the rest of his clothes." Gommed leaped out from the dumpster, landing a few feet away from Losham. "There is blood on them too."

  Losham extended his arm, and Gommed handed him a torn pair of pants and a shredded shirt. Someone had gone crazy with a blade on the warrior, slashing the clothes and the skin under them but not much more than that. There wasn't enough blood on the garments to indicate serious injuries.

  The guy was either attacked and defended himself, or had faked his injuries by slashing his clothes and making shallow cuts in his own flesh.

  "Did you find the trackers?" he asked Gommed.

  "Not yet, sir."

  "Send two men in there. Have them go through every piece of trash until they find them."

  "Yes, sir."

  On the remote chance that Gommed had a hand in this, Losham wanted more eyes on the evidence.

  As repulsive as they were, he brought the two articles of clothing closer to his nose and sniffed. He could detect a faint female scent, an aroused female, and there was also a male scent of arousal.

  "Anyone know if the man changed clothes before going out?"

  The men exchanged glances but then shook their heads. Regrettably, clothing was not something warriors noticed. The guy either had sex the night before and had worn the same clothes, or had done it right before getting jumped.

  Was it possible that he'd been taken out by a female?

  Not likely.

  A human female, even one armed with a knife, was no match for a trained soldier.

  But what if she was working with someone else?

  Someone could've pointed a gun at the man's head while she cut off his clothes.

  But why?

  If it were a robbery, they would have left the naked man, dead or just unconscious, and fled the scene. Besides, this wasn't a random occurrence. Someone was hunting his men, and it didn't look like the work of Guardians.

  A mystery.

  The good news was that it looked as if the man had been taken and not defected, which would still be a stain on Losham's reputation but not as bad as if it was the latter.

  "I found one." One of the soldiers held up the tiny transmitter.

  "And I have his underwear." The other one waved a pair of standard issue boxer shorts, also sliced up.

  "Keep looking for the other three."

  Whoever had attacked the warrior had stripped him completely naked, probably to search for the trackers. But how did they know about them?

  And who were they?

  Chapter 28: Roni

  "I really don't want you to do it yet," Sylvia said. "You're still not well enough."

  Roni hugged her close and kissed her lightly on her lips. "If Bridget says I'm okay to go, then there is no reason to wait any longer. I'm tired of it."

  "You're still weak. Wait until you're back to full strength."

  "It can take months."

  "So what? What's the rush? You are here with me, safe, doing what you love doing, and you joined Jackson's band, and you have loads of fun with that. A few months are nothing. It's like the blink of an eye for an immortal."

  "I know that it's hard for you to understand how I feel." He put his hand on his stomach. "There is this feeling of unease constantly churning in my gut. I fear the fight, I fear the transition, but I also fear not transitioning. I don't have one fucking calm moment unless I'm asleep or making love to you. And even then that constant worry sometimes manages to hijack my brain. I n
eed it to be over and done with one way or another."

  Tears pooling in the corners of her eyes, Sylvia nodded. "Then let's do it. Who are you going to wrestle?"

  Roni smiled. "This time, baby, it's not going to be just a wrestling match. I'm getting the whole ceremony, with someone recommending me for transition because I was found worthy, and then someone volunteering to be my mentor and life-long friend. Anandur organized it. I wish he could be the one. Unfortunately, the guy is too nice to fight a sorry excuse of a challenger like me."

  Sylvia's tears dried out. "Maybe what was missing from the previous attempts was the ceremony?"

  Roni kissed her forehead. "I don't believe in mystical nonsense. The ceremony has nothing to do with it. But it's nice to have my new friends cheering me on."

  "How come no one told me?"

  "Because I didn't want you worrying about me for days."

  She pushed on his chest, getting out of his arms with ease. "Don't you ever do something like that again. I will just worry more about all the things I suspect you're not telling me."

  "You have a point. I'm sorry. I didn't think it through."

  "Promise."

  "Scout's honor."

  "You're not a scout and have never been one."

  "Roni's honor?"

  She grimaced. "It will have to do."

  What the hell? Did his girl doubt his honor? They would have a talk about it later, when there wasn't a bunch of immortals waiting for him. After all the trouble Anandur went into arranging his ceremony, it would be incredibly rude to show up late.

  "Let's go."

  Down at the gym, a small crowd was waiting for them. The Guardians, most of whom Roni knew, Kian and his wife, Amanda and her frightening ex-Doomer, the guys from the band, Tessa and, of course, William.

  "And here is the star of tonight's show. Everybody, a round of applause for our new resident hacker. Mr. Roni." Anandur wrapped his massive arm around Roni's slim shoulders and led him away from Sylvia.

  A few snickers and whistles followed them to the center of the room.

  As Kian joined them, everyone went quiet.