by Jackie Ivie
And then...
Finally!
His lips moved.
CHAPTER SIX
A slim-phone vibrated against her thigh. The holder must have crept up her leg. The slight tremor on her skin was sinful. Delicious. And she could feel it. She could feel and sense all kinds of things.
Tessa pulled in a deep breath. Rain had a fresh smell. She’d forgotten that. It was late afternoon. The waning sunlight carried warmth, deeply hued with humidity. This was such an enormity. She hadn’t experienced sensory things in almost two hundred years. It was amazing. Thrilling. And loud. The swamp was alive with noise. Insects droning, water lapping, birds calling, flapping wings as they took flight. What could be a gator splashing. And above all that was the sound of her heart beating. Continuous. Strong. Steady.
It matched Cameron Preston’s heart. Exactly.
Tessa was smiling as she slid a hand along his leg to reach the phones. Nice. The man had extremely nice thighs. Hmm. The phone vibrated again. Her dress might as well be plastered in place. She peeled the skirt up to reach her phones. Slid one out. Pressed the connect button. Held it to her ear.
“Is this Tessa Queen? I have reached Tessa Queen?”
The voice was female. Insistent.
“Yes.”
Tessa answered with a whisper, although it shouldn’t matter. Her mate wasn’t moving. He was barely breathing. She could only tell if she looked closely enough. He almost looked dead. She hadn’t been mistaken. He was a very handsome man. He had light-colored eyes. She didn’t know the exact shade, the cellar lighting had been too poor to tell, but his eyes were striking. He wore his hair a bit long, past his collar. It probably made a small ponytail if he pulled it back. He appeared to have dark blond hair. It had a reddish tint. That matched his barely-there beard and the mustache above his upper lip. She wondered if it also matched the rest of his body hair.
Oh my.
Her body gave a subconscious lurch alongside his. The movement was instinctive. Strange. And thoroughly enjoyable. Her eyes widened.
“I have Tessa Queen on the line, Sir.”
“Thank you, Lizbeth. Tessa? You there?”
Tessa pulled the phone from her ear as Akron’s voice reverberated through the enclosure. The leader of the Vampire Assassin League had a voice that resonated, despite volume setting and speaker wattage. It was immense. Unforgettable. Spine-tingling. She knew that now, since it happened to hers.
And that was extremely pleasurable.
“You know, Tessa...I usually call an associate when I need to speak with them. And most associates answer.”
“Oh. Sorry, Sir. I’m here.”
“Excellent. Lizbeth? Bring up the file on the Nepal situation.”
Tessa frowned. “You have another assignment for me? Oh, please, Sir. Not now.”
“Why not?”
“I had a bit of trouble last night.”
“Really? Looks like I’ll need the Stephano file as well, Lizbeth. You already have it? Well. Nigel had best not extend his honeymoon with you for competition. Someone should alert the boy. Ah. Yes. Here we are...and look. The Stephanos are very pleased with your work, Tessa. They sent over a bonus.”
“A bonus?”
“Fifty thousand dollars. It’s been transferred to one of your accounts. I also extend my kudos. Not only is the hit being treated as a tragic accident, but you waited until after midnight. You made certain the bride, and her family, won’t have every anniversary clouded with mention of her mother-in-law’s death. Extraordinary work, Tessa. Truly.”
“I have to admit, Akron. I didn’t do anything.”
“Sounds like that was the appropriate response to unforeseen circumstances. So. What seems to be the trouble?”
“Hunters.”
Akron was instantly business-like. His questions were clipped. Precise. Rapid-fire. “Where?”
“Ramsay Mansion.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. At least two.”
“Dead?”
“Yes.”
“This call is at the limit. Grab another cell. We’ll call you back.”
She slid the phone closed. Held it for a bit before dropping it behind her. She accessed another one without taking her eyes off Cameron. Her mate. It was so unbelievable. So wonderful. So completely unexpected. Her heart felt like it swelled. Moved. Clogged her throat. She swallowed. The phone vibrated in her palm. Akron was speaking when she put the receiver to her ear.
“Do we need a 4-D Team, Tessa?”
“Probably.”
“Lizbeth? Dispatch Blue. And check for any activity on police scanners. You’ve already done that, too? Good work. No activity? Well. That is one bit of providence in our favor.”
“What is?” Tessa asked.
“The Ramsay Mansion is decrepit. Rarely visited. And nobody seems to have registered that a ghost hunt would take place there.”
“I didn’t say anything about a ghost hunt,” Tessa replied.
“I know.”
“Then, how did you know?”
“The moment you said Hunters, I started a mental check. If we have Hunters in New Orleans, there’s a reason. I came up with the Beethan Paranormal Research Group. The Beethans and ghost hunting? Talk about going out of their league. What is the world coming to? So. How is Doctor Preston?”
Tessa’s eyes went wide. The expression matched the tone of Lizbeth’s voice as she spoke up.
“If you can do all of that yourself, Mister Profit, why on earth do you need help?”
“No man – or woman - is an island. I can’t do everything. Not timely. Nor efficiently. And why? Remember this, ladies. There is a finite amount of personal energy available to every entity. That is a universal law. And you didn’t answer my question, Tessa. I take it Doctor Preston is your mate?”
“Yes.”
“Well. That explains the trouble. There isn’t a mating that happens without a bit of it. Do you need an assist?”
“Not at the moment. He’s resting.”
“And?”
“I don’t know what will happen when the sun goes down.”
“You changed him?”
“I had to. He took the arrow meant for me. In his chest.”
“Ah. Chivalry is not dead. I am reassured. Is your mate the gung-ho, take-on-all-comers, ‘damn-the-torpedoes’ type?”
“I don’t think so. He’s a phenomena researcher. Something like that.”
“He’s actually a major player in the paranormal field. He’s got quite the resume. And quite the reputation. Good choice, my dear.”
“You know this?”
“I can access all kinds of data, Tessa. There’s a problem with data, however. It’s impersonal. That means I can guess, but I can’t verify anything about the real man and his personality. If he’s a mild-mannered type, you’ll need back-up. Something minor. Like...Len. He’s half changed, but his wife will be with him. Should work just fine. But if your mate is the aforementioned gung-ho type? Well. The situation might require a couple of 4-D teams. And the twins. New vampires don’t realize the scope of their own power, nor how to manage it. And the last thing we need is a new vampire lost in the Louisiana bayou.”
“I would say he is the former.”
“Lizbeth?”
“Sending Mister and Missus Griggins. Already on it, Sir.”
“Ah. I see I am really going to miss you, Lizbeth.”
“Can’t I work alongside Nigel?”
“I was referring to your eventual departure when you mate, my dear. But put that on the back burner. I don’t wish to go into particulars. Tessa?”
“Yes?”
“Get him to your place. I don’t care how. But don’t let him loose.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“And Lizbeth? Look through the files. We still have the situation in Nepal to handle. Midwives don’t grow on trees, you know.”
“You need a...midwife? That’s why you called me?” Tessa’s newl
y awakened heart started thudding with what she recognized as fear. Throat-clogging. Heart-stopping. It was just as debilitating as when she’d lived, too.
“Oh, not to worry, my dear. Truly. You’d be moral support. And company for the expectant mother. The league has surgeons on call. And obstetricians. And nurses. Most are on-site, or in transit already. I just happen to have an anxious father-to-be with unlimited resources and massive worry. No matter whom I send, it isn’t enough. What is it, Lizbeth? Takeshi is calling again?”
Akron gave a heavy sigh. Her enclosure shuddered.
“Good luck to you, Tessa Queen. Call if you need anything.”
And the phone went silent.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The world was seriously askew here.
Cameron’s eyes popped open. He sucked in a huge gulp of air as if he’d been breathless for hours. He was stopped by the pressure of bands about his chest. Strange-feeling bands. Not exactly restrictive. More soothing. Comforting. They flexed about him with his exhalation. And the next breath, as well.
Weird.
He went instantly alert and aware and cognizant. And all without one sip of coffee. He began gathering data as if that made sense. Gather data. Examine it. Evaluate. Establish facts. Act. He’d start with a periphery scan.
Hmm.
The view before him looked unworldly; science-fiction in material form. There was a film of water between him and the rest of the world, as if he looked through a small waterfall. That really should have blurred the view.
It didn’t.
He could easily see grayish-toned fingers of mist threading through a forest of leafless trees. It appeared to be raining. He couldn’t assess time. It wasn’t daylight. It didn’t look like night, either. It was somewhere in-between – some weird twilight phase. Every so often he caught a glint through the fog layers. As if the ground wasn’t ground. It was something ephemeral. Unsubstantial. Like...some grayish-green liquid.
For miles.
Cameron blinked. Narrowed his eyes. He could see with perfect clarity at a range that was impossible without binoculars. And if he changed his focus, he could easily make out all kinds of definition in each strand of moss hanging about six inches from his nose. From a ceiling that looked like unfinished and hastily chopped wood. Nastily unsanitary. And was that a...spider web at one edge?
Oh.
He’d had some strange dreams in his life. This one took the grand prize. It looked like Halloween Central. But then he became cognizant of sound. Waves of noise assaulted both ears. It was a cacophonic blend of insects buzzing and chirping, birds calling, frogs croaking, the trickling of water, and he didn’t know what else. All of it came at a decibel level that should cause temporary blindness. Or mental incapacitation. Cameron howled and smacked both hands to his ears. And the enclosure addressed him.
“Cameron Preston?”
Wow.
This dream had a narrator? Excellent. But even weirder, he recognized the voice. It was the hot, supermodel woman from the cellar; the one who’d grabbed him to her and flown into the wild beyond – without using any obvious method of propulsion. All while he’d been dying from an arrow wound. Cameron blinked several times. Took a few deep breaths. The bands about his chest expanded and retracted. Felt like...arms. He tipped his head down. Yep. She had her arms wrapped about him. And that meant the pillows at his back were...
Pretty damn nice.
Well.
If he had to die, this wasn’t half bad.
“I know you can hear me, Cameron Preston.”
She had a voice that sent pleasure. All kinds of it. His ears got it first with a touch of breath, and then a tremor raced went down his back. It reached the backs of both thighs. Backed up to get a really good grip on his butt. All of it highly enjoyable. He considered the sensation for a moment before answering.
“I only get called that when I’m in academic circles. Impressing people. Or if I’m in trouble.”
“Isn’t that your name?”
“I believe I’ll go with trouble this time.”
“What?”
“Cam. You can call me Cam. All right?”
He swiveled onto his back. Her arms stayed about him. That was damn fine. And damn weird. And hell. She was even more stunning than he remembered. Or maybe that was because she wasn’t being viewed through night goggles that colored everything Martian-green. She was on her side, clinging to him, one of her gorgeous legs bent and atop him...approximately at his knees. Her head was at his shoulders. And she had some really fine, firm breasts that hugged at his ribcage level. Cam didn’t dare glance down to verify anything. He was actually afraid he’d blush. He’d had women before. But none of his prior experiences remotely resembled this woman. He didn’t know why. He was afraid to delve into it, although his data sensors were going crazy. He hoped that was what sent a continuum of shivers up and down his frame. All highly enjoyable. All distinctly weird.
He kept his eyes on hers. She had really dark eyes. Fathoms deep. Intensely fascinating.
“Cam,” she finally replied.
His body lurched. The space they occupied shuddered. All kinds of things rustled. Now why - when it really mattered – did his body have to act like something from his teen years? He licked his lips. More weirdness. His upper teeth felt really strange. He’d check later. When his body quit acting like a fifteen-year-old moron with a men’s mag, a coating of baby oil on his palm, and a locked bathroom door.
He shivered again. And then groaned. He dragged his eyes from hers, and dropped his head. Regarded the morass of moss above him. It was covered with little flowers. All colors. All shapes. A bower of colorful flora coated the ceiling of their enclosure. This had to be a horticulturist’s dreamscape.
“You all right, Cam?”
He turned his head back to her.
“You know. It’s a damn shame this is a dream.”
She smiled. And then shook her head. Strands of hair slid across his cheek.
“It’s not a dream? Darn. I was hoping this wasn’t death. Because I’m way too young. And you’re way too gorgeous. And it’s mostly my fault. I accompanied those BPRG guys. I knew they weren’t stable.”
“We are...not dead, Cam.”
“Yeah. Right.” He ran a hand along his chest. Rubbed along a lot of crust-covered material. Stuck a finger through the arrow hole and lifted his shirt with it. “I was shot, lady. This is an arrow hole. I’m also covered in a lot of dried blood. And yet, I feel fine. Better than fine. I don’t think I’ve ever felt better.”
Data gathered. Evaluated. Facts assigned. No action required.
“I am so glad.”
“With facts being universal and all that, if I’m not dreaming, then this must be death. Otherwise, I would still have an arrow in my chest. And, I have to tell you, lady. That wouldn’t feel remotely this nice.”
“My name is Tessa.”
Another spurt of pleasure shot through him. This one did worse things than before. It sent some signals to his dick. Cameron tensed his thigh muscles to stop it. Then his lower abs. Butt muscles. This was just not happening. Not remotely possible. Not with a stranger. Not in a weird-ass environment. And especially, not when he was dead.
“It’s Tessa Queen,” she added. “Supernatural enough for you?”
Oh. Shit. The data was getting all mucked up here. Signals were getting crossed. He could easily take a jump right off the deep end here. And thoroughly enjoy the trip.
“Look. Miss Queen. I am a scientist, okay? My field may be paranormal, but it doesn’t mean I’m a pushover.”
“No?”
She ran a finger up his belly, along his throat, skimmed his chin. Every portion she touched was sending all kinds of stimuli. He wasn’t just shivering. It was a shudder that moved their berth.
“Hmm. Nice. You are very....fit, Cameron.”
“Cam,” he replied automatically.
She’d reached his mouth. Ran her finger along his lower lip. Damn
near sent him airborne. Wait. The ceiling closed in with rapidity. He only kept from smacking flowers with his face by the pressure of her hand, pushing him back down. He settled back right where he’d been. He didn’t know the surface material, but it was warm.
What the hell was going on?
“Do you believe in ghosts, Cam?”
Her finger was back to sketching an imaginary line up his chest. With about the same devastating effect as before. Cam wasn’t testosterone-driven. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been with a woman. And yet now. With this particular woman. He was having a difficult time staying on subject. This woman wielded some major vibes. Heated. Sensory. Tactile.
“Uh. Yeah.” His voice was gruff, but at least it worked.
“Why?”
“I’ve had encounters. Done experiments. Gathered data. That’s what I do. That’s what I was doing last night when you interrupted me.”
“I see.”
“You sound like you’re a believer.”
“I’m reserving judgment.”
“For what? You had contact.”
“How do you know?”
“You had an ax, Tessa. It came from somewhere.”
Her finger stopped at a spot directly below his chin. Cameron swallowed. Her finger moved with it.
“Does that mean ghosts are on our side?”
She leaned into him farther, pressing that ultra-fine bosom against his skin. Her mouth hovered near his. Close enough he was ready to lunge for the connection. Her lips were full. Moist. Perfectly pursed. Gaining a kiss was the uppermost thought in his head. Screw data gathering. To hell with evaluating. And the facts were just about history.
“Our—? What? We have a side? In what?”
Incoherent words stumbled from his throat. He was surprised anything managed to make it past where she hovered. Her breath stained his skin with warmth. Her scent enveloped him with a blend of lavender and musk. Her tongue lapped along his skin. He jerked with each one.
“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Cameron Preston?”
“It’s Cam. And...what? No. Figured? What?”
“But you study the paranormal. Yes?”
“You are not a ghost, okay?”
