by Paige Tyler
* * *
Minka slowly rode up and down on Angelo’s cock in their big, new bed. She was still getting used to that word—cock—and hadn’t been able to say it out loud yet, but she thought she might soon. She was getting very comfortable making love with Angelo and was very eager to learn everything there was to know about sex. Right then, he was showing her how much fun they could have making slow, gentle love. He was buried deep inside her, and she was rotating her hips in small, tight circles, which created an absolutely magical sensation between the folds of her pussy—another new word for her.
Angelo had a firm grip on her bottom and refused to let her move any faster. It was torturous, especially since she could have orgasmed in ten seconds if he’d just let her. But he liked to tease her, and she liked to let him.
The past several weeks since learning they would be a team had been amazing. First, before coming back to the States, they’d taken a few days to stop by and visit her parents. It had been a complete surprise to her, but Angelo had insisted.
“They need to know you’re okay,” he’d told her.
Her parents had been in tears when she and Angelo showed up at the door. She’d given them a very abbreviated version of what had happened, only saying she’d been kidnapped by evil men and that Angelo had rescued her. The most important part was that Angelo had saved her life and that they were in love. When she’d explained she’d be working with him in the United States at a very good job and have her own apartment, her mother had been tearful but happy. Her father, on the other hand, had bluntly asked Angelo if he loved Minka. When Angelo said he did, her father had just as pointedly asked if Angelo intended to marry her. Both Minka and her mother had been mortified, but Angelo only smiled.
“Yes, I do,” he said. “As soon as she’ll have me. But she’s a strong woman. She’ll only marry me when she wants to.”
Her father had laughed at that and brought out the vodka.
After coming back to Washington, DC, they’d found this beautiful apartment. Minka still could not believe she had enough money to live in a place like this. Even better, John had arranged it so Angelo could officially live here too, even though they had to maintain a silly story about him sleeping in the spare bedroom and that he was only living there so he could help her maintain control over her hybrid nature.
They were still working with John regarding exactly what kind of work they would be doing at the DCO. At that moment, everything was leaning toward training them to be a search-and-recon team. They would go all over the world, finding people in trouble and figuring out what kind of extra DCO resources would be needed to help them out. This was work Minka honestly felt she and Angelo could do.
She leaned forward and kissed Angelo, boldly finding his tongue with hers. She had to focus to keep her fangs from slipping out and nicking him. He never complained, but it was something she wanted to work on. She enjoyed kissing him and didn’t want anything getting in the way of that.
Angelo slid one hand into her hair, weaving his fingers in and tugging a little as his other hand gripped her bottom. Mmm. That felt so good—especially when he thrust into her at the same time. Angelo had already proven to her many times over that her climax was always more intense when she let it build for a while.
Angelo was getting close, too. She could tell from the thundering beat of his heart and his quick, deep thrusts. She loved making him come hard, thrilled she could make him feel as good as he did her.
Angelo’s gaze locked with hers, and she knew her eyes were glowing green. Minka couldn’t begin to tell him how much she appreciated the fact that it didn’t bother him.
She purred as she felt the first tingles of orgasm deep inside her, in that place where her beast resided. Now that she’d come to accept that part of herself and could control it, she didn’t mind when the beast shared in her pleasure. They were two parts, living as one. Neither could live without the other, and now, she would never dream of denying the beast this happiness.
Minka circled her hips faster, like she did when she was dancing. Angelo groaned, his dark eyes turning molten. He liked when she did that. He called her his little feline belly dancer.
As the sensations grew stronger and Angelo’s grip on her bottom tightened, Minka pressed her lips to his ear. “I love you. Forever.”
Those words always sent her angel over the edge. With a hoarse groan, he plunged deep into her, bringing her to climax. She yowled and threw her head back as she came. He yanked her more tightly against him, and she splayed her hands on his chest, panting for breath. Her claws were out now, but she was careful not to sink them into his muscles. Even during climax, she was able to maintain enough control for that.
When the last whispers of her orgasm had faded away, she collapsed against him and lay there gasping, enjoying the pleasant tremors that rippled through her.
Angelo licked her neck, nipping and kissing there. “I love you, too. You know that, don’t you?”
Minka pushed herself up on her hands and smiled at him. “I know. And I’ll never forget.”
Epilogue
John checked his rearview mirror as he drove along Highway 123 toward his home near Tyson’s Corner. He didn’t expect anyone to be following him, but lately, he’d gotten the feeling that something was off. Then again, spying on the Committee and uncovering secrets would make anyone paranoid.
Unfortunately, Landon and Ivy hadn’t been able to hand him a smoking gun to put Thomas Thorn away for the rest of his life, but they’d definitely confirmed a lot of John’s suspicions. Thanks to the information Renard gave them, he now knew for a fact that Thorn had funded Keegan Stutmeir and the hybrid program, albeit without proof, of course. But it was just a matter of time before they found the evidence they needed.
The mission to Tajikistan had also confirmed there was a second player in the hybrid game. The hard drives Trevor had taken showed that someone on the Committee had provided Klaus with technical information on the Costa Rican hybrid strain. If John had to guess, he’d say it was Rebecca Brannon or Xavier Danes.
John turned down the main road toward the high-rise complex where he lived. The third thing the Tajikistan mission had clarified was the hybrid family tree. They’d thought the different hybrids were part of the same group, but now they knew differently. The hybrids Stutmeir had created—the ones John liked to think of as the first generation—were all dead, except for Tanner. The Costa Rican variants—the second-generation hybrids—were almost all gone too, except for a few that might have escaped into the jungle. Of course, there was a distinct possibility that whoever was behind the operation in Central America still had the formula for that variant. Only time would tell on that.
Then, there was the third-generation hybrid/shifter blend made from Ivy’s DNA. There was Minka, the unidentified woman Landon had brought back with them, and the unidentified male who’d gotten away. John had people out looking for the man, but Tajikistan was a rough country, and it might take a while to find him—if he was even still alive.
Finally, there were the fourth-generation variants Landon and the rest of the team had fought in Tajikistan. Zarina thought they were probably a blend of the second- and third-generation hybrids. He’d sent in another team to scout out the area to look for survivors, but they hadn’t found any. That still worried the hell out of John. With the control they’d demonstrated, the creatures would be seriously dangerous if someone could find the formula and create more of them. But Klaus and Renard were dead, so hopefully their research had died with them.
John pulled into the private parking garage of his apartment complex, nodded at the security guard, then got on the elevator. He had to swipe a card through a reader, enter in a six-digit pin number, then stand in the middle of the car for a visual ID scan. That was the only way to get the elevator to take him to the top floor.
As he stepped out of the elevator, the big, muscular man sitting behind the desk outside John’s front door looked up. John hated the
idea of having a guard at his apartment, but if he had to have one, he was glad it was Morgan Gerard. John had no idea what kind of animal DNA Morgan had, but whatever it was, it made him strong as hell and patient as the day is long. Morgan was what Adam called a “hidden shifter,” a person who had some kind of animal DNA mixed with his own but not necessarily the type that would make him useful as a weapon to the DCO. Shifters like Morgan existed in the shadows, never showing up on the DCO’s radar, which was exactly the way Adam and these low-level shifters liked it.
Morgan nodded in his direction, then went back to his book. From his appearance, people tended to think the big man was some kind of dumb jock, but one look at the cover of the quantum physics book he was reading would tell anyone that wasn’t the case.
John opened his door and walked into the large, beautifully decorated penthouse apartment. He was about to call out that he was home when a little girl came running into the living room, her long, shiny hair streaming behind her. John bent down and scooped her up, spinning around in a circle.
“Daddy’s home!” She giggled.
“How’s my Boo?” he asked, kissing her on the cheek and making her laugh even more. Boo wasn’t really her name, but after seeing Monsters, Inc. a few years ago, she’d decided she liked the name more than she did her own. And his eight-year-old daughter could be very forceful when it came to getting what she wanted. Just like her mother.
John turned to see Cree coming out of the kitchen, her dark, wavy hair down around her mocha-skinned shoulders, her sometimes blue–sometimes gray eyes twinkling. God, he didn’t know how she did it, but somehow, his shifter wife looked more beautiful every day.
“Good day at the office?” she asked with a smile as she kissed him.
He nodded. “I’ll tell you all about it later.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but Boo interrupted.
“Daddy, Uncle Adam came to visit. He’s been making me laugh at all the funny faces he can do.”
John glanced at Cree. “Adam makes funny faces?”
He honestly couldn’t see the former assassin playing peekaboo with his daughter. But then again, he rarely ever saw the man smile, so what the hell did he know?
Cree smiled. “I guess. He’s waiting in the office.” She gave Boo a kiss. “Want to hang out with Milan for a while before dinner?”
John looked over to see the slender, incredibly graceful woman coming to stand near the island that separated the kitchen from the living room. She’d moved so quietly, he hadn’t even heard her. A hidden shifter like Morgan, Adam’s pretty, dark-haired wife smiled as she came over.
She took Boo’s hand as he set his daughter on her feet. “Come on, Boo. Let’s go to your room and play with your dolls while your mommy and daddy talk to Uncle Adam.”
“I stopped by and visited Jayson Harmon on the way home,” John said as he and Cree crossed the living room to the home office. “You remember I told you about him? The lieutenant from Landon’s former Special Forces A-team who’s been recovering from injuries he got in Afghanistan. I offered him a job at the DCO weapons range.”
Cree stopped to look at him in surprise. “So you’re going to put Layla in the field, then?”
John shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I told Layla I’d allow her to train to be a field agent. She has a long way to go before I’d even consider it. I offered him a job because he’s a good man who needs someone to give him a chance. And he can more than handle the job. He’s qualified on nearly any weapon you can name, he knows how to repair and maintain them, he’s good with explosives and tactics, and as a bonus, he already has a top secret security clearance.”
“Did he take the job?”
John nodded. It had been hard as hell convincing the former soldier that it wasn’t some kind of pity offering because of his connection to Landon and Layla. “It took some persuading, but in the end, he took it. The man’s got a lot of pride, but he’s not stupid. He knows a good deal when he hears it.”
“And how do you think he’ll handle it when he discovers the DCO employs genetically enhanced humans and that his girlfriend is one of them?” Cree asked.
John smiled. “Something tells me he’s not going to be that shocked.”
Then, if and when Layla was ready to become a field agent, hopefully he’d be able to team her up with Jayson. He’d seen them together, and there was definitely a spark. But Layla wasn’t the only one who had a long way to go before she’d be ready for field work; Jayson did too, and John wasn’t sure either of them was ever going to get there—or if they could even stay together long enough to make it that far.
Adam was seated in the leather wingback chair, gazing out at the setting sun, which reflected off his dark-blond hair and emphasized the angular planes of his face. He hadn’t changed at all in the ten years John had known him, reminding him once again that he didn’t have a clue how old Adam was.
John sat down in the chair opposite Adam. Cree perched on the arm and crossed her legs.
Adam turned to look at him with those unsettling eyes of his that had taken John a long time to get used to. A combination of orange and yellow, his pupils were partially slitted. He blinked, his eyes shifting back to their normal hazel green. “Did you find anything on the hard drives they brought back from Tajikistan?”
John casually pulled Cree onto his lap, where she fit perfectly. “Nothing we can use to drag Thorn into court. On the good side, at least now we know what the facts are. We just have to keep digging in the right places to get solid evidence.”
“We already have evidence.” Adam regarded him with eyes that seemed even colder than usual. “Thorn is behind the hybrid program, and because of him, a lot of people have died—scientists and doctors he ordered kidnapped, homeless veterans in Atlanta, hikers and campers in Washington State his doctors experimented on, all those research subjects that Landon and Ivy found all over the world. They’re all dead at his hands. What other evidence do you need? I can slip into that big, gaudy mansion of his and kill him in two minutes.”
John clenched his jaw. He and Adam had already had this conversation. “We’re not going to do that, and you know it.”
“Why not?” Adam asked. “You act like the DCO doesn’t kill people every day. Your operatives killed Klaus, Renard, and a slew of human guards and hybrids. What the hell makes Thorn any better than them? Why does he get to live while they all died?”
“He’s not any better than them. He’s ten times worse,” John said. “There’s a difference between killing a man who’s pointing a gun at you and walking into his house in the dead of night and executing him.”
Adam regarded him coldly. “And you’re saying the DCO hasn’t done exactly that before as well?”
“Dammit, you know we have. And you also know how extreme the circumstances have to be before I ever authorize something like that,” John continued before Adam could interrupt. “There must be a clear indication that significant lives will be lost and that there’s no other alternative.”
Adam swore, his eyes flashing color. He had good reason to hate Thorn. “You don’t think more people are going to die because of Thorn?”
“They very well might,” John agreed. “But saying they might isn’t enough to justify an execution.”
Adam’s eyes returned to their usual icy coolness, but he didn’t say anything.
John sighed. “You knew this was the way it was going to be ten years ago when you and I agreed to work together to figure out which member of the Committee was abusing their position and using the DCO for their own purposes. All along, the plan was to put that person in prison, not kill them. Just because we’ve finally figured out that Thorn is that person doesn’t mean anything has changed. You said you were comfortable following my lead on this. Have you changed your mind?”
Adam stared out the window for a long time before answering, his jaw clenching. “No.”
John had to stop from letting out another sigh, this time in
relief. Adam was a good man, but he was also dangerous as hell, and it would be stupid to ever forget that.
“So we go back to digging through email servers or hoping one of Thorn’s people makes a mistake and leaks something incriminating,” Adam said, turning his head to look at John again. “We’ve been waiting for that to happen for years. What makes you think anything will be different now?”
John smiled. “Because now we know exactly what we’re looking for.”
Adam lifted a brow. “We do?”
“We do,” John said. “Renard told Ivy that Klaus had every single communication with Thorn saved on a computer in a research building that burned down—orders from Thorn, money transfers, research data, status updates on every success and every failure. I’m betting Thorn has that same information saved somewhere, too. All we need to do is find it.”
He expected Adam to take a shot at his logic, but the shifter simply regarded him for a long time in silence before finally nodding. “A man like Thorn would want to keep information like that somewhere close by,” Adam said. “That means his home or his office at Chadwick-Thorn. Are you seriously considering trying to slip one of your people into Thorn’s office or private residence?”
“I won’t have to,” John said. “Not if Thorn invites them in.”
“Ivy and Landon?” Cree frowned. “You think he trusts them that much.”
John nodded. “It’s one of the unexpected benefits of Klaus and Renard ending up dead. Thorn assumes Ivy and Landon manipulated events to make it happen on his orders. He’s already invited them over for another meeting at his corporate office. If we get lucky, they’ll have the freedom to move around Chadwick-Thorn on their own. From there, who knows?”
Adam considered that. “Are you sure you want to put them in that kind of situation? If Thorn or Frasier get even a whiff that Ivy and Landon are up to something, they’re dead. And if he realizes they’re following your orders, you’ll be next—or someone you love will be.”
