About Spartan Resistance
Resisting love is futile.
Brenden Christos was born a son of Sparta, and is over two thousand years old. Now in the twenty-third century, he is the security chief of the Chronometric Conservation Agency. He has no time for fools, humans or anyone who threatens his Agency. Love is at the bottom of his list of priorities.
Brenden doesn’t have much time for Mariana Madison Jones, either. Their clashes escalate, as Mariana works to keep the Agency running smoothly for her vampire employers. Their rocky working relationship heads south when the world’s most eligible bachelor, Laszlo Wolffe, begins to pursue Mariana and has more than a temporary tryst in mind.
Gabriel and his psi-filers strike back at vampires and while the world is reeling from Gabriel’s vicious blow, Brenden learns that Laszlo Wolffe isn’t who he says he is, and begins to investigate, using time travel and a most unexpected ally to wrinkle out Wolffe’s secrets.
Brenden’s discovery and Gabriel’s psychotic demands collide…with tragic results.
WARNING: This vampire ménage romance contains two hot, sexy alpha heroes, frequent, explicit and frank sex scenes and sexual language. It includes heart-stopping sexual scenes between the aforementioned sexy heroes, ménage scenes, and anal sex.
Do not proceed beyond this point if hot love scenes offend you.
No vampires were harmed in the making of this novel.
This book is part of the Beloved Bloody Time series:
Book 1.0: Bannockburn Binding
Book 1.1: Wait*
Book 2.0: Byzantine Heartbreak
Book 2.1: Viennese Agreement*
Book 3.0: Romani Armada
Book 4.0: Spartan Resistance
...and more to come!
[*Time Twist Tales - short stories and novellas featuring the characters and situations found in the Beloved Bloody Time series.]
These are continuing characters and storylines. Reading the series in order is strongly recommended.
Praise for The Beloved Bloody Time series
Danger! Adventure! Hot threesomes! MORE DANGER! And a really shifty bunch of individuals who are determined to strike the vampires where it hurts them most. —Reading the Paranormal.
Tracy Cooper-Posey continues to bring this fantastic and unique series to life. There is never a dull moment in this book or in the series. A complex and intense read that continues to entertain. I can’t wait for next book in the series. —The Jeep Diva
The authors ability to weave together the many different locations and time periods in history is amazing.—Amazon Top 500 Reviewer
Contents
About Spartan Resistance 2
Praise for The Beloved Bloody Time series 3
Contents 4
Chapter One 5
Chapter Two 11
Chapter Three 19
Chapter Four 27
Chapter Five 35
Chapter Six 45
Chapter Seven 53
Chapter Eight 62
Chapter Nine 73
Chapter Ten 81
Chapter Eleven 97
Chapter Twelve 107
Chapter Thirteen 114
Chapter Fourteen 122
Chapter Fifteen 133
Chapter Sixteen 142
Chapter Seventeen 152
Chapter Eighteen 159
Chapter Nineteen 169
Chapter Twenty 179
Chapter Twenty-One 183
Chapter Twenty-Two 191
Chapter Twenty-Three 196
Chapter Twenty-Four 202
Chapter Twenty-Five 204
The next book in the Beloved Bloody Time series 210
About the Author 212
Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey 213
Copyright Information 215
Chapter One
Chronometric Conservation Agency Headquarters, Villa Fontani, Rome, 2265 A.D.
Mariana didn’t need psi talent to know that tensions around the Agency were unusually high. She just couldn’t figure out why. To her way of thinking, not knowing why proved she wasn’t doing her job.
She had learned so much about vampires in the last few years. It was something she had always wanted to do. But all the knowledge had done was prove to her how little she knew and how much more there was for her to learn. She could go the rest of her life uncovering aspects of vampire life and the Chronometric Conservation Agency in particular and still not know it all.
As a result, most days she felt completely ignorant and stupid.
As Mariana hurried across the grounds of Villa Fontani, heading for the south wing of the central villa, she reflected that today was no exception. It was her job to help keep the Agency ticking over smoothly and to make Nayara’s challenging life as the highly-visible and sought-after CEO a bit easier for her to cope with.
Mariana had been doing this for just over a year, but every day still delivered unique difficulties. This morning, the challenges were centered upon the work being done to the southwest cavedium, which had stood neglected since the Agency had bought the building. As Mariana passed through the main plaza into the long gallery, she began to pass knots of people standing around complex equipment she couldn’t begin to name.
The people were all strangers and, she guessed, all human. Many of them were looking around and over their shoulders, as if vampires might fall upon them the moment they let down their guard.
Which was plain stupid. They would be better off worrying about Gabriel and his psi-filers. They would have no compunction about using humans to further their agenda. Except they wouldn’t fall upon them—they would just reach into their minds and twist. Make them dance a jig or go on a murder spree, just for the fun of it.
There was a man in coveralls, just ahead, who looked like he might have a coronary at any moment. Sweat was gathering at his temples and his eyes were wide. He was looking around fearfully.
Mariana slowed as she drew nearer. She gave him a big smile. “You don’t have to worry, you know. The vampires here all drink synthetic blood.”
He stared at her and swallowed, while the rest of the small group next to him lifted their heads up to look at her sharply.
“But they do really, really like adrenaline with their food,” Mariana added. “It’s like honey. A dose of panic will draw them just like flies.”
The man’s mouth dropped open and his gaze skittered about the room as if attack was imminent.
Mariana gave him another wide smile and moved on down the gallery. They had believed her without question. Fools! She hadn’t been that ignorant even before she met her first real vampire. In this day and age, when vampires had been a known and accepted part of human society for at least two centuries, not knowing the least little thing about them was willful ignorance and inexcusable.
She shook off her annoyance and cleared her mind. She had better things to do than worry about what the average human thought of vampires. That was Deonne’s job and Mariana was very glad it was so.
Instead, she checked off all the possible reasons she could think of that might explain why everyone seemed to be on edge.
Of course, Nayara was worried about Ryan. She was hiding it well, but with Mariana she sometimes became a bit sharp. That was Mariana’s job, too. Better that Nayara vent upon her than anyone else, particularly humans or the media. There was nothing Mariana could do to help alleviate Nayara’s concerns. Marley was doing everything a body could do and no one else knew Ryan was sleeping again. Not even Cáel Stelios, although that omission had bothered Mariana greatly. She had even questioned Nayara about it.
“Cáel is busy with the current session of the Assembly,” Nayara had replied. “I don’t want him to be distracted. He’ll
think he has to hurry home, if he finds out. The session ends in a week. I can tell him then.”
As no one else knew about Ryan, it wasn’t the source of all the angst.
Gabriel had been quiet and invisible for many months, since Adán and Rhydder had snatched baby Jack away from him and his psi-filers. The long silence had worried the entire agency. It was a background tension that had been building every day that Gabriel stayed mute. Everyone was bracing themselves, waiting for his next move and wondering what it would be. But only the top vampires of the agency actively speculated about what he might do, in their strategy sessions. Everyone else just worried it over in their minds, day after day.
Gabriel wasn’t helping make life pleasant. He would probably be pleased about that, if he knew. Perhaps he did know. No one was sure if he was regularly tapping into Agency minds. Now that Pritti had passed, there was no longer a mental shield protecting them. There was anxiety over Pritti’s passing, still—especially as Demyan had not returned to the agency.
Mariana stepped through the double-wide doorway into the cavedium where the bustle and fuss was at its most intense. There were people everywhere. Human people and vampire people, both.
The very center of the storm was off on one side of the cavedium, where workmen were clustered thickly. From among them, unseen because of the size of them, a woman was speaking quickly, her tone peremptory. Every few seconds, another of the workmen around her would hurry away.
As more and more of her staff dispersed, Mariana could see the woman at the center of them better. Mavourneen Beraht was short—shorter than Mariana and she wasn’t exactly tall herself. Not the way Nayara and Deonne were tall. Mariana couldn’t tell if Neena, as she told everyone to call her, was slender or not, for she wore the most interesting clothes. There were layers of color, mixes of materials and sometimes Mariana couldn’t figure out where one layer ended and the other began. Sometimes she couldn’t even figure out if the woman was wearing a dress or trousers. She was wrapped in color and texture from head to foot. Even her hair was a startling and enhanced red, in big loose curls that brushed her shoulders.
Often the color combinations and textures she wore were unexpected and in Mariana’s opinion simply shouldn’t work together, but somehow, Neena pulled it off.
In the two days Neena had been working here, Mariana had found her appearance to be one of the most fascinating things about her. Her energy was the other quality that Mariana found almost exhausting even to simply watch. Neena bounced and skipped and sometimes even jumped when she really wanted to make a point. In a room full of tall vampires with even bigger egos, Neena was the most visible.
Mariana watched as Neena’s crackling energy and enthusiasm for her work seemed to relay itself to the workmen she was directing. They hurried away with energy and purpose.
“Faster, people! Faster!” Neena cried as the last of them stepped away. She clapped her hands. “This is a most important project! A most distinguished client!”
“Who is that?” came the question from just behind Mariana’s shoulder. She shifted the reading board to her other hand and turned to look. It was the short blond man that most often accompanied Marley, their in-house geneticist doctor. Well, he wasn’t short short, as he stood higher than Mariana. Gawaine. Such an ancient name.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Mariana pointed out. “It’s a controlled environment.” Well, it would soon be a controlled environment. But Neena had emphasized that she didn’t want people gawking until her work was complete. She had said it with the full hauteur of someone who knew their worth and expected compliance. Her manner had made Mariana study her with renewed interest. Mariana couldn’t imagine speaking in that sort of tone to anyone. For any reason.
“I’m looking for Nayara,” Gawaine said, watching Neena as she moved around the banks of computers, feeds and more, tapping screens and humming to herself. “Marley wants her. She wasn’t in her office, so I headed for where all the noise was coming from. What is she doing with that?” He tilted his head, a furrow between his brows.
“That’s Mavourneen Beraht,” Mariana said. “She’s—”
“I know who Mavourneen Beraht is,” Gawaine replied. “That’s really her?”
“I hope so. She signed over Mavourneen’s name on the contract.” Mariana smiled. “She’s colorful, isn’t she?” For Gawaine was watching her with a peculiar sort of intensity.
“She’s really screwing up those feeds,” he said to himself.
Mariana raised her brow. “I think she knows what she’s doing. She’s been building custom environments for—no, wait, Gawaine!”
But he didn’t hear her, or chose to ignore her. He strode across the dun-colored and dried out summer grass, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his denim jacket.
Mariana pressed her fingertips against her temple, then decided that both Gawaine and Neena were grown adults. They could sort it out themselves.
“Marion, where the hell is Nia?” Again, the question came from behind her, but this time Mariana knew exactly who was speaking to her. Bellowing at her, to be precise.
She turned, clutched her reading board in both hands and smiled up at Brenden with her sunniest smile. “Nayara isn’t available right now.”
Brenden was scowling and there was another reading board in his hand. Mariana had to adjust once more to the change in his appearance. For months, he had been wearing a full beard, which had made his black-on-black hair all the more intense and along with his black eyes had given him a dark, brooding look. Brenden had withstood a week of teasing from other Agency members when he had first begun to grow it out, but then the neural nets had started to talk about his new companion, the recently widowed and very, very rich Stephanie Delaney. Her departed husband, James Delaney the Third, had always worn a full beard. When the images of the pair of them had hit the nets, the comments had intensified and Brenden had glowered for another week or two, putting up with it with a mulish stubbornness.
And now, suddenly, it was gone again. Did that mean Stephanie Delaney had gone, too?
Personally, Mariana preferred him without the beard. Brenden had fair skin, unlike Cáel Stelios, the one other Greek descendant she knew. Cáel always looked like he was tanned. Brenden’s black eyes and black hair played well against his flesh.
Mariana registered the furrow between his brows and the board in his hand. Something related to administration had annoyed him. That was why he was looking for Nia.
“What do you mean, she’s not available?” he demanded.
“She is somewhere where she doesn’t want to be disturbed.” Her response emerged with an uptight note to it. She was reacting to his displeasure. He was getting under her skin.
Not good.
“I’m the head of bloody Security!” Brenden snapped. “She’ll see me.”
Mariana squeezed the reading board. “I have full authority to deal with matters during her absence,” she said as calmly as she could. “What is the problem?”
The corner of Brenden’s mouth curled up in an expression that was very close to a sneer. He thrust his board at her, forcing her to swap her own to one hand and take his with her other.
“I can’t scan all these people, these humans!” he protested. “Not all at once. I have to do background checks and DNA analysis and they all want access to the ground yesterday or sooner. That bloody woman is bringing in a three ring circus!” And he shot a dark look toward Neena. “What the hell is she doing, anyway?”
“Some work for Nayara,” Mariana answered truthfully and distantly, as she ran her gaze over the long list of names on the board. “Why do you need to scan them all?”
Brenden blew out his breath, clearly exasperated. “Do you know every person on that list?”
“No, but—”
“They’re all human. Without scans and checks, we could be letting who the hell knows in here. Psi-filers have passed our normal checks before.”
Mariana’s gut tightened. Sh
e bit her lip. “You’re right,” she agreed and scrolled to the next page.
“Hell’s bells, you’re not actually reading the list, are you?”
Mariana looked up at him, surprised. “How else am I to know who is on it?”
Brenden snatched the board from her hand. “I can’t stand here waiting for your human-slow brain to get it.”
Mariana sucked in a quick, hurt breath. “You have no objections to human-slow reactions in bed, though.” And she mentally caught herself, shocked. Why had she said that?
Brenden had already started to move away but he whipped back to face her. His expression grew thundery. “What did you just say?” He didn’t drop his voice the way she had heard him do in the past when he was on the verge of physical action. Instead, his volume seemed to double and although she was facing him squarely, Mariana could almost feel heads turning to look at them.
Her pulse jumped and she cast about for something to say, to find a halfway sane response. She considered apologizing, then discarded the idea. She wasn’t sorry she had said it. He had been less than nice himself and deserved it.
Spartan Resistance Page 1
