Dark Stranger

by Susan Sizemore

  “It’s only a story,” Flare said. “I like it and want the sequel, but it’s just a story.”

  “You think there’ll be a sequel?” Cassie asked.

  They all looked at Antonia again. She shrugged.

  “If it’s not future sight how did the writer know about the hunyara?” Cassie went on. “The Matri just found out about the connection between us and werefolk.”

  “I think the staff at the vampire clinic have known about the hunyara for a while,” Sid said. “They just kept quiet about it. I’m guessing the author works at the clinic.”

  “Or has done their research,” Antonia said. “Or made it up because it sounded good.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t write the story, Mom?” Sid asked.

  Antonia clasped her hands in her lap. “I think book clubs are supposed to discuss what happened in a book and what it all means. Let’s try doing that.”

  “Sure. I have plenty of opinions,” Flare said.

  “You always do,” the other females said.

  “Then I’ll start,” Flare told them. “Frankly, I think that Matthias Raven is …”

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  1

  “You do realize that the purpose of terrorism is theater,” Tobias Strahan told all the Clan leaders. “It’s not so much what our enemies have done to hurt us that they care about, but how we react to it.”

  Francesca Reynard couldn’t help but smile at the Prime’s superior tone. Would the Matri Council let him get away with lecturing them, or was the commander of the Dark Angels about to get his ears boxed? She waited in the shadows at the back of the council room to see what happened next. She wasn’t supposed to be here and this wasn’t a conversation she was supposed to hear. But she’d take any advantage she could get to achieve her goals.

  Self-centered, aren’t you?

  The telepathic voice in her head was Strahan’s, and he was even more arrogant speaking to her than to the respected clan leaders.

  Primes were supposed to be arrogant, and she normally found them easy to ignore.

  But not this one.

  It’s a gift, she thought back at him.

  Along with petulance and pride—but then, everyone knows Flare Reynard’s “gifts.”

  It’s interesting how some people feel threatened by determination and strong self-esteem, she answered, then raised the mental shields that kept polite vampires out of each other’s heads.

  Strahan gave a shrug in return, and since she was female, she couldn’t help but run her gaze appreciatively over him, fine figure of an overgrown Prime that he was. He certainly was a big boy. Big hands, big feet, very tall. Muscular, with a tight ass and narrow waist perfectly proportioned to his extra-wide shoulders. He was considered the best looking Prime of his generation, but she liked that his perfection was marred by ears that stuck out slightly.

  Her attention was drawn back to the Matris when Lady Juanita Wolf laughed. “We’ve been involved in deadly games with the hunters for generations,” she reminded Strahan. “We can handle this, too.”

  “But they’ve never publicly attacked us before,” Lady Angelica Reynard said. “They’ve never set us up to be found out by the media.”

  Strahan nodded. “We can’t afford to react in the classic manner. They’re counting on that. They want to be able to post videos of your people on You-Tube, to get news crews camped outside your homes. They’ve decided that outing us is the best way to destroy us.”

  “I can almost understand mortal vampire hunters attacking like this,” Lady Cassandra Crowe said, “but you haven’t convinced me that one of our own could be a traitor, that information is being passed from inside our community. There is absolutely no reason.”

  “I think I know the reason,” Strahan said.

  “I think we’ve heard enough on the subject already,” Lady Serisa Shagal said firmly.

  Los Angeles was Shagal territory, this was her Citadel, and defending against the threat to her Clan should be hers to handle. But she had agreed to Strahan’s demand to cede emergency powers to the Dark Angels since the attacks were on all supernatural groups, not just Clan vampires. There had been fires and bombings against vampires and werefolk all over Southern California, including trouble at the medical clinic here in Los Angeles. The Angels were a multi-species special forces group who answered only to Tobias Strahan, who had formed his unit in anticipation of the sort of attack they were under now.

  Francesca admired his confidence in the face of so many Clan Matris. He’d walked into their meeting, taken over, and convinced everyone to do things his way.

  But Francesca resented the way he’d interrupted her own effort to save her friend Sidonie Wolf, who’d faced execution for bonding with a werewolf member of the Dark Angels. Francesca and other vampire females had been starting their own revolution to save Sid, but Strahan’s power play had forced that effort to the sidelines. He’d interrupted her bid for freedom, even if he had achieved her objective of saving Sid.

  He turned his head slightly, giving Francesca a view of his sharp profile and hard expression. A woman couldn’t help but think of a male like that as tasty, even a woman who hated the vanity and total jerkhood of the males of her species. It was a good thing she’d had years of practice at ignoring the instincts that reared up in her as she watched this Prime.

  It also helped that a squad of Primes now came pouring in through the door behind her; there wasn’t an ugly one in the bunch of bodyguards. She stepped aside to allow them to go to their various Matri.

  “The arrangements are all made,” Barak Shagal told his Matri and bondmate. “Everyone’s cars are waiting. Guards are placed, and the pilots of your private planes have been alerted.”

  “It’s time to go,” a Reynard Clan Prime addressed Francesca’s mother.

  The plan was for all vampire females in California to be whisked away to safety elsewhere, but Francesca had no intention of going to the Clan Citadel in Idaho with her mother. She’d come to California with a purpose and wasn’t leaving until she’d accomplished it.

  From the shadows, she slipped out the door before anyone noticed her.

  2

  Where do you think you’re going? Tobias wondered as Flare Reynard sneaked away. Watching the sway of her hips as she walked was a joy. But the stiffness of her spine and proud lift of her head told him she wasn’t docilely heading for her mother’s limo. She obviously had plans of her own—but he was in charge here. The thought of letting her know that brought a brief smile to his hard mouth.

  “Brat,” he muttered under his breath.

  He knew he should mention Flare’s leaving to Lady Anjelica and let them take care of it, but he couldn’t resist the impulse to track her down himself. If anyone needed a public lesson in discipline, it was the Clan’s most adored and spoiled female.

  Finding Flare wouldn’t be difficult for a Prime of his skills. Even with her shields tightly drawn around her, he could pick up her unique perfume, which had permeated his senses from the moment he’d walked into the tense meeting. At the very least, he could track her by the stunned looks she left on the faces of any Primes she encountered.

  As he followed Flare through the mansion’s entrance hallway, Tobias’s cellphone rang. Though he preferred telepathy to telephony, not every member of his Crew had the ability to communicate mind to mind—let alone the mortals. He stepped outside to the wide front staircase as he put the phone to his ear.

  “How’s Joe?” Dee McCoy asked.

  “You could have called him and asked,” Tobias told the mortal witch.

  She snorted. “I can just picture him, standing in front of a firing squad as his phone rings and him saying, ‘Wait a moment while I take—’ BANG!”

  “Vampires don’t use firing squads. The Joe problem is settled, and his lady Sid will be
joining the Crew. Set up orientation for her.”

  “You got us a girl vampire?” It took a lot to impress Dee McCoy, and Tobias smiled at the awe in her voice.

  “I’m good,” he said. “Also, the L.A. op has been authorized. The locals will be staying out of our way, and all is right in my world.”

  “Except Saffie …”

  As he waited for Dee to continue, Tobias looked around. Joe and Sid were standing near the bottom of the stairs, and he headed down toward the Dark Angels.

  Dee told him, “I’ve gotten a couple of sips from her that give me the impression she’s having some trouble at school.”

  This wasn’t the time or place to ask for details, but he was grateful for the witch’s reminder that he had more important things to deal with than saving the world. “I’ll call Saffie as soon as I get the chance.”

  “Tonight,” Dee answered.

  Tobias grunted and ended the call, just in time to hear Sidonie Wolf tell Joe, “And there’s the Prime responsible for setting this whole mess in motion.”

  He gave her an acknowledging nod and walked past the couple, shamelessly listening as the female vampire explained to the werewolf the deeper game Tobias had played by reuniting the two of them.

  He had put their lives at risk to help the cause of female vampire liberation. The supernatural world had to change or it would be destroyed, and he’d do whatever he had to to save everybody—vampire, werefolk, faefolk, and the creatures even immortals had trouble accepting. Every sentient being deserved freedom and equality—except maybe ghosts, but they were ex-humans and not his concern.

  While his thoughts circled around the problems of his peoples, he circled alertly around the mansion, aware of all movement. The Matris and other vampire females were being evacuated by their concerned Primes, and he noted who occupied each limo and the direction each car took as it left the gate.

  Neither Reynard female was among the exiting groups, but Lady Angelica was perfectly capable of taking her difficult daughter in hand and dragging Flare home with her. An argument between them was probably the cause of the holdup. It wasn’t something he needed to concern himself with.

  He stalked back up the front staircase anyway. Someone needs to shake some sense into that spoiled princess.

  Flare Reynard was a dangerously beautiful female, and more than the scent of her perfume called to him. She does that to any Prime with hot blood in his veins. Sure, I want that glorious body beneath me in a bed and the taste of her blood on my tongue. But I won’t let lust make me stupid, like it has every other Prime that’s ever gone after her.

  And unlike them, if I want her, I’ll have her.

  Awareness made him turn, and he caught a furtive movement out of the corner of his eye. When Flare reached the side door of the mansion’s multi-car garage, he was standing in front of it with his arms crossed, his intention to keep her out clear.

  “Flare, my dear,” he said with a blatantly false smile. “What are you doing here?”

  She crossed her arms. His gaze lingered on the swell of her breasts. Primes were far too easy to seduce. Even though they were taught self-control, and the lessons from creche were reinforced by the Angels’ discipline and training, Tobias couldn’t help but think, Damn! Flare was fine.

  Francesca was pleased her feminine wiles worked on Strahan. She knew it wouldn’t last long, but she enjoyed the heat of his attraction.

  “The Bat Signal is flashing behind you. You need to go save Gotham now.” Her eyes locked on his.

  “I appreciate the comparison to my favorite vigilante, but it can’t won’t work on me. The only thing I’m going to do is send your smart ass back to Idaho.”

  She grinned at this challenge. “I don’t take orders from you.”

  “The Matri would disagree. I am in charge of this territory.”

  “I have an appointment at a secure facility.”

  “You’re using this young Prime to sharpen your tongue, I see,” a voice chimed in.

  Her mother stood suddenly behind her. Francesca sighed. She’d tried to leave the Citadel stealthily, and somehow ended up the center of attention.

  “Lady Francesca and I were merely exchanging pleasantries, Matri,” Strahan said to her mother.

  “Yes. I know how pleasant she can be.”

  “She’s sharply direct, ma’am, as is proper for a vampire female.”

  “Don’t you have somewhere you’re supposed to be?” Lady Angelica went on.

  Francesca wasn’t sure who her mother was talking to, but Strahan took the bait. “We all do. Let me escort you ladies to your car.”

  “Good idea.” Angelica looped an arm through both of theirs and led them toward her car.

  “I’m not going to the airport,” Francesca said when they reached the vehicle. She threw an annoyed look at Strahan. He stepped back to let the Reynard Matri handle her daughter.

  Go ahead, wash your hands of me, she thought. Of course he was going to leave her to deal with her mother. He wanted her out of town. She couldn’t blame him for that—shouldn’t, at least. She shook her head and made herself stop looking at the tall, muscular, gorgeous, over-confident man in front of her. Something about him brought out the most petulant part of her. And she didn’t want to just ignore him the way she normally did Primes. She wanted to—

  Provoke the hell out of me until I kiss you senseless?

  Francesca pretended not to have heard his thoughts as she fought the urge to laugh. laugh. Not turn on him in scathing fury? Now, there was a new reaction to Primal arrogance.

  I only deal in facts, ma’am. Arrogance is for the unsure.

  Oh, shut up, Strahan. I’ve got more pressing business than dealing with you.

  But you would like to be kissed.

  Who wouldn’t? I’m not dead, but I am picky.

  The driver, oblivious to the telepathic conversation, opened the car door for her mother. “You most certainly are not going to the airport with me,” her mother announced.

  Francesca hadn’t been expecting an argument, just a stern command to return to the Citadel. So her mother’s response left Francesca with her mouth hanging open.

  She wasn’t the only one taken aback.

  “Lady Angelica?” Strahan asked. “Are you—?”

  “You heard me correctly,” Angelica said. “My heir has accepted her duty to give the Clan children, and I am not getting in the way of her giving me grandchildren. Flare, I’ll drop you off at the clinic.”

  Francesca shot Strahan a triumphant look, grinned at her mother, and hopped into the spacious back seat. “Turkey baster here I come,” she mumbled, a sudden wistful undertone coloring her mood.

  She knew what was required of her. She knew the path she’d chosen. But being so close to Strahan reminded her of another way for a female to become pregnant. She bit her lower lip wearily. The sooner she got away from him the better.