“Good.” Master clicked his fingers and two manservants arrived, both dressed in next to nothing. Thor had no issues with nudity, but this made him uneasy. The men were nothing more than humans, the scum that overpopulated the earth. The very vermin Master wanted to see enslaved and reduced in numbers that were less than supernaturals. Yet, despite his disgust of humans, Master kept nearly a hundred around in various homes and properties, feeding from them, demanding sex from them. They obeyed. It was what the weak-willed did. Pierre had bent their will to suit his own. That was easy enough for him to do. Whoever the humans had once been was no more. They were merely boy toys and walking donors for Pierre.
One of the manservants put his wrist out to the master. When Pierre bit into the man’s wrist, Thor fought back bile. He had not taken to the “gift” the master had bestowed upon him as others had. He did not enjoy the blood lust. The need to feed. He could hear the men’s blood pumping through their veins, the sound bringing with it a need to almost savage them. The response so visceral that Thor almost rushed to them with the urge to bite and rip their throats out.
I am broken.
Master pulled his mouth free from the manservant and grinned, blood staining his teeth and fangs as black filled his eyes. Thor licked his lips in response, as if he could taste the coppery goodness as well. He had tried to deny a feeding for the past two weeks, and now he was suffering from as much. But he would push on. He would make it without taking blood.
He hoped.
Pierre looked up at him, a question forming on his face. “Something troubles you, Thor.”
“No, Master,” he said on autopilot.
“If you say so,” replied Pierre with a flip of his hand.
Thor was dancing too close to the fire and he knew as much. Soon the master would sense the conflict within him and kill him. If he was lucky.
“Where is Belial? Tell me you lost him or he’s dead. Such a waste of a beautiful man. I had so many hopes for him. When he came crawling to me on his hands and knees, begging me to give him more than he was, to make him spectacular, I believed he would grow to be my right-hand man. He is nothing but a letdown. Worthless.”
Thor stiffened. Belial was new to the fold and had little control over his beast or the new addition of vampire that Master had “gifted” upon him through advances in technology as well as good, old-fashioned paranormal. Still, there was something about Belial that Thor wanted to see succeed. It was a long shot. After all, Belial didn’t seem much like a soldier. He was more like a scared young punk who was in over his head.
“He sleeps,” said Thor, hoping to buy the newcomer some time. “We tried to take him into the daylight again, but the test failed. Now he rests while his burns heal. The conversion is still only months old. He will grow more tolerant. He will do better.”
Master hissed and then waved away the servants. “I should kill him myself.”
“He is one of your chosen children,” reminded Thor. “He took to the darkness more than me. Or do you forget how he attacked those in the district after hours? He drank his fill of the humans. Did he not?”
Pierre touched his chin. “He did.”
Thor was not vampire enough for Master. He knew as much. But Thor had Master’s trust. “One day he may prove worthy of your army. Worthy of your cause. Give him time to grow into the asset I believe him to be, Master.”
Pierre tipped his head, seeming to ponder. “Perhaps. When he wakes, prepare him to go to the girl.”
“Are we now to retrieve her?” asked Thor. He’d been waiting for the directive for months.
With a shake of his head, Pierre spoke. “No. Wait until she does what she was tasked with and then have Belial kill her. It must be him. If she somehow wins, kill Belial and bring her to me.”
“Master?” Thor asked before thinking better of it.
“Yes?”
“What, exactly, is she tasked with?” asked Thor, knowing he was pushing too far, but unable to stop himself. He had a small fondness for the woman in question after having shadowed her for a spell.
“This and that,” replied Pierre, his expression bordering on sinister.
“But, Master?”
Pierre’s gaze hardened on him. “Is there an issue?”
“No. None at all.” Thor pressed an artificial smile to his face. “I had believed you wanted her for your own. Perhaps a mate of sorts?”
Pierre was silent a moment. “I wonder if Krauss can do something with her to assure she could breed me sons? Interesting, Thor. I shall put a call in to him. In the meantime, continue as directed.”
“And if Belial kills her?” questioned Thor, knowing he was pushing too far.
“Then she will be dead. What a stupid question, Thor. Though, the odds of that are slim, would you agree? Go now. Feed. Your hunger pushes off you in waves,” said Pierre before turning his back to Thor and admiring the newest painting on the office wall.
Chapter Four
The door to the primate area opened, and Boomer sniffed the air¸ smelling the telltale signs of his friends and fellow Paranormal Security & Intelligence teammates even over the scent of the animals in the sanctuary. A foreign scent reached him. One he’d not smelled at the sanctuary before. Hints of lavender with undertones of orange blossoms floated in from outside as well, but the scent was fleeting and ended when the door closed. Boomer’s body tightened, the smell making him feel oddly calm and aroused all at the same time.
What a strange combination.
The cat in him jerked awake and he felt it stretching, curious about the scent as well. It wanted him to investigate further. It wanted him to permit a full body shift so that the cat could track the scent back to its origin. For a split second Boomer feared his shifter side would win out. He stilled, unsure where the feelings had come from or why he was experiencing them. It wasn’t as if the sanctuary turned him on.
The gruff clearing of a throat told him Duke Marlow was first in and he wasn’t happy with what he was seeing—the chimpanzee named after him was currently putting on a tiara and a pink tutu, something Lil’ Duke loved dearly. Something the PSI guys teased Big Duke about endlessly. “We brought booze. Why is the monkey dressed like a girl again?”
“Och, would you look at that,” said Striker McCracken, his Scottish brogue thick and wild. He pointed to Lil’ Duke who was currently hugging Boomer’s leg. “The wee one is just like you. Likes pretty sparkly things and pink. Where is that Got Sparkle t-shirt when we need it?” He slapped Duke’s back and grinned from ear to ear, earning him a hard look from the alpha werewolf.
Lil’ Duke paid them no mind as he slapped his chest and smiled wide. He was happy and that was all that mattered to Boomer. No more cages. No more tests. No more mistreatment.
Boomer couldn’t help but reflect on his past. On the horrors he’d endured. He’d spent long enough in a cage to never want to see another living thing in one. He hated people who thought they were caging animals for the greater good of the animal.
Bullshit.
They were exerting their power and dominance over an often-defenseless creature, one that should have been free and in the wild, not domesticated. He especially hated animal testing. At the mere thought of it his incisors burst free from his gums and his nails emerged from his fingertips. A snarl broke free from him, drawing the attention of his brothers-in-arms.
Striker’s green gaze swept to Boomer. “Kitty get up on the wrong side of the bed?”
Boomer jerked his head back and forth, his inner beast wanting free. It wanted a pound of flesh for every animal subjected to cruelty. It wanted blood.
Duke approached, his wolf nearing the surface to the point Boomer’s nose was filled with the warning scent. He didn’t give a shit. Duke may be alpha, but Boomer was no slouch. He was just as alpha. He just didn’t wear it on his sleeve for all to see.
Wolves tended to do that. As if they needed to swing their dicks around to make it known they were male.
What
ever.
“Be cool,” said Duke.
The phrase was so uncharacteristic of the guy that Boomer found himself fighting laughter through his partially shifted form. He regained control and smirked as his teeth receded, his claws quick to follow suit. “Be cool?”
Shrugging, Duke thumbed toward Striker. “Dickhead bought me a shirt that said something about it.”
Striker groaned. “Och, it dinnae say be cool. It said Keep Calm and Slay On.”
Duke pursed his lips. “I don’t understand why someone would want to be calm and slay vampires. I like to get good and pissed when I do it.”
Boomer snorted, knowing pop culture references escaped Duke. They actually escaped a lot of PSI operatives. Most were hundreds of years old and didn’t like to assimilate. They’d seen too many fads come and go and most didn’t bother picking up on any. And then there were immortals like Striker who tried to be tech savvy while clinging to old ways—like his kilt.
Duke grunted. “Don’t laugh. He has a pink one for you in the SUV that says Be Calm Sparkle On.”
Boomer flashed a wide smile. “I’ll wear pink because, unlike you, I’m secure in my manhood.”
Striker glanced at Duke as he strolled toward the hall that led to the snakes. “His woman has his manhood secured good ‘n tight.” He shivered. “He’ll nae admit to it, but he’s whipped.”
Duke growled and then paused, rolling his eyes. “Fine. I’m whipped. I can’t help it. Wait until you’re mated. You’ll be in the same place I am.”
“Handin’ my balls to a wee woman?” asked Striker with a flash of white teeth just as Lil’ Duke raced past him and then darted back to Boomer. “I like lettin’ the ladies play with my balls. I do nae let them rack them.”
“Fuck you.” Duke glared at him. “James is just as whipped as I am.”
The exterior door opened and Corbin Jones, their team captain, entered. His normally white-blond hair had the faintest tint of pink on the ends of it. He’d been in close proximity to Duke’s mate, Mercy, when she was conducting one of her famed and frightening lab experiments at headquarters. The experiment had ended in a plume of smoke—and that had left Corbin’s hair stained pink.
Just the other day Corbin had been forced to revoke Mercy’s access to the lab altogether. She liked to cook up trouble. She wasn’t taking the ban well and Boomer guessed that was why Duke had suggested they have a poker night—males only.
Lil’ Duke walked up to Corbin and shook his hand before returning to Boomer.
Corbin smiled at the animal. “He looks to have adjusted well to life here with you.”
“The kid Boomer never had,” added Striker. “Must look like his mother because his father is an ugly fuck.”
Duke and Corbin laughed.
“Is James coming?” asked Boomer, wondering if their other team member, who happened to be recently mated as well, was attending guy’s night.
“Just got off the phone with him. Sounds as if he’s spending the night in with his new bride,” said Malik Nasser, entering behind Corbin. “Something about her having to work double-time tonight to try to combat some information leaked online. Anyone want to tell me why I’m off enjoying my leave when all of a sudden the internet explodes with stories about military guys who can shift into animals?”
Boomer paused. He hadn’t been aware the man was stateside again, let alone home. From Striker’s and Duke’s expressions, this was news to them as well. Malik had been on forced leave and Boomer had to wonder if the man’s head was on straight now or not. “You’re back?”
Malik sighed. “I leave you lot alone for a blink of an eye and someone up and reveals all our secrets to internet trolls who sit around saying shit online they’d never dream of saying to someone’s face.”
Corbin grunted. “Trust us, we are less than pleased. And yes, James’s mate Laney is working hard to try to correct the problem. From my understanding, she has some help from the Outcast Casey’s mate.”
Boomer nodded. “Harmony.”
“Och, I do nae know what the big deal is,” chimed Striker. “Why do we nae just come clean with the world?”
“Still want to tell everyone you’re a vampire and what was it again?” asked Duke snidely.
Striker beamed. “A time lord. Ladies love time lords and vampires. Just ask them. They go on and on about the perfect romance hero.”
Duke arched a brow. “How exactly do you know this?”
“I read the online forums and am about to start contributin’ to the online blog, the Nocturnal Journal. You should really read it. Verra informative. I’m the new shifter expert. Am plannin’ an advice column too. ‘Ask Striker’.”
The men groaned in unison.
Lil’ Duke hurried from Boomer’s side and leapt into Malik’s arms. To the man’s credit, Malik caught the chimp and smiled. “I read the report mentioning you, little fellow. Seems to me, you look more like your namesake.” He glanced to Duke.
Duke grumbled.
Lil’ Duke clapped and then kissed Malik’s cheek before leaping down and running to stand near the very grumpy Duke. Lil’ Duke flashed a huge smile up at the wolf-shifter.
Boomer snorted. “Malik is right. He looks like you.”
Malik strolled up alongside Corbin and extended a hand, setting it upon their captain’s shoulder. As Malik’s shirt sleeves pulled up on his forearms, Boomer noted a new tattoo. Malik had many, most of which Boomer knew there was meaning behind, but he didn’t know what that meaning was.
“Who let you through security checkpoints?” asked Duke with a wink. “We told them to be on the lookout for Tut. We even made up fake crimes and all.”
Malik, or Tut as he was often called by the men, shook his head and approached Duke, putting his arms out wide and then embracing the man. They were nearly matched in height and weight. That was saying something. Of course, none of the PSI-Ops were small guys. “I hope you’re kidding. I spend enough time being racially profiled when flying commercial.”
Striker lifted his hands and cupped his mouth. When he spoke, he threw his voice to sound much like a PA system. “Attention airport security, we’ve got an ancient Egyptian in line. We’re gonna need a strip-search, stat. We’re pretty sure he’s tryin’ to smuggle in a mummy and possibly has some old artifacts in his anal cavity. Would explain the stick up his ass vibe he lets off.”
“Bite me.” Malik grunted. “They rarely have Scottish accents when they sound the alarms for me. What about me says threatening?”
Boomer nearly laughed. Alpha lion shifter rolled off the man in huge waves. He tended to leak threatening all over wherever he went and he knew it. “Not a thing. Sweet as a tiny cub you are.”
Malik laughed and then bear-hugged Duke once more, who groaned, before coming to Boomer next. He stopped shy of hugging Boomer and instead put his hand out, doing a manly shake and slight pull into one another. Malik knew of Boomer’s history. Of his dislike of being touched.
“Good to see you’re back, brother,” said Boomer. “You better?”
“Are you asking if I have plans to lose my shit in the middle of a crowded plaza again?” asked Malik, glancing around at the men. “Afraid I’d shift into a lion here and now and try to kill everyone?”
“Aye,” announced Striker. “That would be what we’re worried about.”
Corbin cleared his throat. “Malik is fine.”
“If you say so,” added Duke, glancing toward the snake room. He shivered. “Those things give me the creeps.”
“You’re also afraid of flying,” said Boomer. “You’re quite the fearless alpha male.”
“Kiss my wolf ass, kitty,” snapped Duke, his mouth changing forms quickly into a wolf’s snout and then back again.
The men laughed.
Boomer sighed. “Too bad James couldn’t make it. The band would all be here.”
Striker moved up behind Duke and grabbed the man in a headlock. He rubbed the top of Duke’s head, sending Duke’s dark, wavy
hair flying all over. “Who is a pussy-whipped boy? Huh?”
Duke maneuvered, twisting just right and wrapping his arms around Striker’s waist. The two men tumbled to the tiled floor and rolled, wrestling with one another and snarling. Boomer groaned and looked to Corbin and Malik. “Want to take bets on if they shift forms and start pinning each other to the ground?”
“If they understood how that sounded they’d stop,” said Malik. “Wolves.”
Corbin smiled. “We felines rarely feel the need to show off how manly we are.”
Striker and Duke stopped wrestling and stared up at everyone from the floor. Duke laid flat. “I hate cats.”
“You hate everything,” said Boomer.
“Except his woman,” said Malik. “I want to hear all about her. I can’t wait to meet her.”
Duke’s eyes widened. “She’s hormonal right now. I’m scared to be around her.”
The men laughed. Mercy was a tiny slip of a woman.
“You do remember she pretty much turned a guy into a puddle of goo with her mind, right?” asked Duke.
Boomer would never forget seeing what Mercy was capable of. She was certainly a force all unto herself.
Duke snorted. “Just wait. You’ll all know what I’m talking about before long. Or do I need to remind you that matings seem to happen in groupings? Like with the Immortal Ops. They all were mated within a year.”
“Think they’ll ever find all the Outcasts?” asked Boomer, thinking about the men who had given their life to their government only to be betrayed in the end. The Outcasts were the rejects of the I-Ops program. The men who didn’t take to the introduction of shifter DNA quite the way the men in charge wanted. They were all thought dead until recently. Everything had gone to hell in a handbag at I-Ops and PSI. No one was sure who to trust outside their units, so they pulled together and watched one another’s backs.
Corbin crossed his hands before him, always seeming so proper and put together. “I hope so, but they probably won’t. Those were good men.”
“Yeah,” added Duke as he cleared his throat.
Act of Submission Page 3
