Carinian's Seeker

by T. J. Michaels

  A lonely road to say the least, but even now she couldn’t afford to get all tooty over the man or try to recapture all the fun she’d let pass her by.

  And here she was again with a dilemma—a biological problem to solve and no time to be distracted with a relationship. Maybe they could just have some more good hard sex? Perhaps. But fall for him? No. Or at least that’s what she told herself.

  There was no way she could afford to put much stock in anything developing between her and Bix. For some reason she felt like she was running out of time on figuring out the shortcomings in her serum. And she still hadn’t figured out all the properties of the blood and samples she’d stumbled on in Sidheon’s cart.

  After a good mental shake and a steaming hot shower, Carin pulled on clean sweats, changed the bedding and stuffed all the dirty laundry into a dry-cleaning bag. The bags and containers full of food packed up, she carried it all to the door, locked up and headed to the gym.

  She pushed the fabulous loving Bix had laid on her to the back of her mind, and prepared to throw herself into her workout. Yep, by the time she was done, she’d have forgotten all about her little Lady Chatterley experience. She had it all under control. Well, except for being unable to ignore the sweet ache between her thighs. Damn.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t shower first. I smell her all over you,” Alaan quipped.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Are you serious? I’m getting the hard-on from hell just from her scent on you, Bix. That’s just wrong, you bastard. What kind of friend are you, anyway?”

  Bix had teased his best friend since the day he’d sworn off women two years ago. Alaan used to be quite the lady’s vamp, but he’d pretty much cut sex out of his diet altogether. Nobody understood it except Bix. But then Alaan hadn’t bothered to explain it to anyone but Bix.

  Being a Seeker was dangerous business, and being the mate of a Seeker could be just as risky. Years ago Alaan had found a mate, only to lose her to the well-aimed blade of a rogue he’d been hunting. Now, as the single son of the Matriarch of Clan Serati, he was one of the most eligible and wealthy bachelors in the western territory. With the number of women who’d claimed to be mated to him, if even half of the stories had been true Alaan would have had his own mega-harem. Plain tired of playing games with the unmated females of the ten clans and their ambitious mamas, he’d cut off every female who wasn’t a relative. Two years of no pussy had the poor devil horny as hell. Bix totally understood how Carin’s spicy scent affected the man. After all, he’d sported his own semi-hard erection since leaving her asleep in the lab an hour ago.

  “It’s not my fault you haven’t had a woman in two years, Alaan. You’re a healthy vamp of breeding age, and no sex? That’s just not normal, man,” Bix teased unmercifully, flashing an impish grin, fangs and all.

  “Oh, shut up,” Alaan grumbled at Bix’s ribbing while they both tried to rearrange the bulges in their pants. “Damn, this is uncomfortable. Now I can’t even leave my trench in the SUV while I tail Sidheon.”

  “That’s for sure. We can’t have your dick waving at every female who crosses your path while you’re trying to work, now can we?” Bix chuckled as Alaan flipped him the one-fingered salute.

  He stopped the vehicle around the corner from a little sushi place where Sidheon was reported to eat several times a week. Alaan hopped out and Bix drove away to a good spot for surveillance. He raised a sleek pair of modified, non-reflective, digital binoculars and positioned them on Alaan as he walked down the street. Seconds later their prey passed him by. Sidheon was right on time.

  “All right, there’s our man,” Bix whispered into his mouthpiece. “You on him?”

  “Right behind him.” Alaan strolled behind Sidheon. His pace was easy and unhurried, with the occasional stop to peer into a window at some overpriced item or another. Dressed in black jeans, a dark gray fine-gauged wool sweater and the black leather trench coat of a Seeker, Alaan looked like an overdressed tourist window-shopping on the boardwalk. To humans, anyway. To the vamps congregating in the warm night air to enjoy the ocean breeze and the last of an orange-tinted sunset, he looked like a prime male vampire. A Seeker with a fat attitude.

  “Why am I doing this again?” Alaan whispered sarcastically.

  “Because,” Bix replied dryly, “I think the vamp I scented near Carin’s door this morning may have been Sidheon. He could have easily spotted me while I was scouting out the building. He wouldn’t automatically suspect you since there are other Seekers on the boardwalk, that’s why.” Bix smiled at Alaan’s none-too-subtle snort and popped a couple of watermelon Jolly Rancher candies into his mouth.

  Following Alaan’s progress from his parking spot down the street, Bix watched his partner stop briefly and clasp hands in respect with two Seekers apparently patrolling the beach. Nodding his thanks when they pointed him to a restaurant that catered to their special needs, Alaan was off again, careful to keep his prey within his sight at all times. After a few uneventful minutes, Alaan walked past his target and stopped at the pre-designated surveillance point. Pretending to study the menu posted on the door, he stepped aside to let Sidheon enter the building.

  Alaan’s deep voice came through Bix’s earpiece. “He’s awful pretty looking. You sure Sid’s not a woman?”

  “If anyone can tell the difference, it’s you my friend.”

  “Kiss my ass, Bix,” Alaan hissed into the small flesh-colored mouthpiece barely visible against the side of his face.

  “Sorry, handsome. Ass kissing’s not possible. I’m taken.” Bix chuckled at his partner’s deep growling response. “Keep me posted. Bix out.”

  Alaan crossed the street and grabbed a table at a seafood house directly across from Sid. With schooled features and thoughts, he ordered a glass of red wine and a light dinner. Repulsed that Sidheon even breathed the same air he did, what he really wanted was to walk across the street, pound the shit out of the pasty-faced pretty boy, and truss him up for a trip back to V.C.O.E. headquarters for sentencing. There was nothing he hated worse than a rogue, a vampire excommunicated from clan life for betraying his own kind.

  Alaan watched the hostess seat Sidheon at an outdoor table facing the street. The skinny, too-pretty traitor sat alone for almost half an hour when suddenly he flashed a predatory grin as his gaze locked on a good-looking woman passing by. A woman with cinnamon skin, a tight, killer body, and endless legs. Dressed for a casual evening, she sported a pair of formfitting, dark green capri pants, low-heeled pumps and a hunter green short-sleeved sweater. Her hair was pulled back into a long, curly ponytail. If she’d been a bit taller and a little more muscular, the woman could have passed for Carinian Derrickson. Definitely not good.

  Sidheon looked after the woman as she smiled her thanks at him for what was probably some lame-assed compliment and kept walking. Was that a hint of fang? Was he crazy, letting his incisors slip free in public? It didn’t matter if nobody noticed but Alaan. No vamp, rogue or otherwise, was to bring attention to their kind under any circumstance. Idiot.

  “Please, please screw up so I can take you down right now. Screw finding out whatever you’re scheming.”

  “I heard that. What the hell’s going on, Alaan?” Bix whispered through their security link.

  “I’m watching Sid eyeball a fine-assed sistah who looks a lot like your girl. Five-foot-seven, dark skin, similar facial features, and legs like I don’t know what. Damn, she looks good. Could be a pattern here.”

  “Aw, hell. That might be a problem.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking. Wait, someone else just showed up. A mousy-looking human male just joined Sid at his table. The guy looks like a subordinate or something. Sending you a digital now,” Alaan said as he raised his vid-phone as if he were making a call.

  “Hold on a minute,” Bix whispered. “Okay, I’ve got the digital transmission. Yep, he’s Sidheon’s assistant. Name’s Don or Dan, or something like that. I saw him talking to Carin in
her lab while I scoped out the place earlier. Seemed to spend a lot of time either watching her or running back and forth between Sidheon and Carin’s labs, and the quality-control rooms downstairs.”

  “Well that didn’t take long,” Alaan muttered. “The mouse is leaving and Sid looks pissed.”

  “I see him. You stay on Sidheon. I’ll tail the mouse and catch up with you at the house later.”

  “What’s up with dinner?”

  “Depends on how long I have to tail Sid’s go-fer. Hopefully, I’ll be having chocolate tonight.” Bix chuckled, as thoughts of Carin continually inserted themselves into his mind. God, the woman was like a drug. He wanted her as much now as he had only hours before. Their marathon loving this evening hadn’t done a thing to slake the urgent need to be with her, to touch her. To bind her to him. He could also use a little bit of blood, but he was pretty sure she wasn’t up for that yet.

  “Tell Dr. Carin I said hello, you horny bastard.”

  “Smart ass,” Bix gritted out between clenched teeth, striving to get a hold of himself. He couldn’t afford to allow a woman, any woman, to interfere with his concentration while on a mission. Besides, he was still dealing with being far gone over her. Carin was his mate, and yes, he was supposed to be crazy for her. But it didn’t mean an independent prime like himself would immediately adjust to such a strong need for anything other than blood, sex and action. Aw, who the hell was he kidding?

  Alaan’s quiet voice interrupted Bix’s brooding. “Sid is on the move. And by the way, there’s a half-pint bag of AB-negative in the cooler under the backseat. You know, just in case the chocolate thing doesn’t work out. Catch up with you later. Serati out.”

  “Good luck, partner. Bix out.”

  Bix followed Sidheon’s idiot crony for hours. The man’s errands seemed typical enough, stopping to pick up prescriptions from the local Walgreens, get some takeout from a restaurant on La Jolla Blvd. Bix was bored out of his mind until the man finally stopped somewhere interesting.

  Don, Dan or whatever his name was, parked across the street from a warehouse in the industrial district. It looked newly built and awaiting an occupant. Bix drove past and disappeared around the corner before circling back to park down the street. He watched the little mouse of a man look over his shoulder as if he expected to be followed. Maybe the guy wasn’t willingly helping Sidheon? From the terrified expression on his face as he looked around, it wasn’t hard to guess where the man’s loyalties lay—on the side of self-preservation. He seemed a bit green about the gills as he slid a key into the lock on the front door of the building and disappeared inside for the better part of two hours.

  From there the man had gone straight home and stayed there. By the time Bix met up with Alaan at the house designated for their use, it was well past one o’clock in the morning. Spending the night in Carin’s arms was obviously out.

  Chapter Eight

  Other than a glimpse of him from a distance around the facilities, Carin hadn’t seen Bix in three days. Why she’d expected him to pop up everywhere, she had no idea. Even at the gym she’d looked over her shoulder every now and again, hoping. Finally, she’d reprimanded herself for refusing to accept she’d been the recipient of a one-night stand. Okay time to forget him.

  She was almost home when a sharp jolt of pain shot through her lower back as the muscles spasmed. Thoughts of Bix’s strong hands kneading the tension away popped into her head. So much for the two grueling hours spent throwing herself through every lower body exercise she could think of, all in an attempt to get her mind off the man. Obviously it hadn’t worked.

  Rolling her eyes at her own ridiculousness, she screeched to a stop in her driveway and dragged herself into the house. She’d been alone for years, but she missed this man so much the only word she could think of to describe it was hollow. All this drama for a man she knew nothing about, other than he was a great lay? Yeah, a great one-time lay.

  “Now see, that’s exactly what you get,” Carin grumbled to herself as she kicked off her tennis shoes inside the front door. “Getting all worked up ‘cause you thought that damned man was serious about you. Now look at you, feeling all stupid and disappointed.”

  After a quick wash up she settled back in the thick, overstuffed cushions of the couch. A plate of untouched food congealed on the coffee table while her thoughts flew all over the place. One second she was thinking about the next steps for her serum, then her head filled with the images of a tall, dark-haired, gorgeous manly-man who’d put it down on her in the bedroom at the back of her labs earlier this week. She didn’t like it at all.

  Carin sat up on the couch, snatched out of a comfortable doze by the ring of the doorbell. Startled, heart in her throat, she glanced towards the unlit fireplace at the clock over the mantle. Eight fifteen. Who the hell would come by her house after dark without calling first? Moving with silent caution she rose, grabbed the sturdy baseball bat next to the door and peeked through the viewing hole.

  Bix? How dare he show up after three days of no visits and no phone calls. Bastard.

  She snatched open the door, perched a fist onto her hip and tapped a bare foot on the hardwood floor.

  “How dare you show up here, damn it. After…ommph…”

  As his mouth took hers in a swift, dominating kiss, Carin forgot her desire to talk, and only wanted to taste. In an instant, the yearning was there for the slick slide of his tongue against hers, the sweet taste of watermelon candy, and the nibble and nip of strong, white teeth. The spice of his unique scent floated out from under his leather trench and up to her nostrils. Oh Lord, she couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, and didn’t want to. Kiss now. She could fuss at him all she wanted later.

  When he finally released her, she snatched her fingers away from the leather covering his solid, muscled chest, amazed at how off balance she was by the unexpected eagerness to see him again. Overwhelmed by the strangest combination of anger mixed with sudden shyness, Carin stepped back and away from him.

  The soft crinkle of a plastic bag swinging on the end of Bix’s fingers caught her attention. Yep, it was definitely the bag causing her breath to quicken. It had nothing to do with the hungry glitter in his silvery honey eyes or that damned come-hither smile.

  “I know it’s a little late for dinner but thought I’d bring you something anyway.”

  She threw up her hands, exasperated when her stomach flip-flopped at his sexy lopsided grin. “What is it with you always trying to feed me?”

  “I can be quite the demanding lover, sweetheart. I’ve got to make sure you keep up your strength.”

  Demanding? Loving every three or four days was demanding? He didn’t crack a smile as he winked. Her eyes went wide. Oh goodness, he was serious.

  “Are you going to invite me in?”

  “Huh? What? Oh, yes, of course.”

  Bix took one step into the house, toed off his shoes and kicked them aside. He followed her into the living room in his stocking feet, set the plastic bag on the coffee table and unloaded it as Carin sat on the couch.

  “I hope you like Mexican food.” He smiled, so at ease he didn’t even bother looking up.

  She nodded dumbly and stared at him as if one of them was crazy. How could he appear so calm after laying such a carnal kiss on her? And how dare he dive into her pussy like he couldn’t live without it, then not call or come by her labs for days. Then there was the issue of him coming by her house unannounced. How had he known where she lived, and why wasn’t she calling him on the carpet instead of sitting here like some dimwitted high-school chick?

  “You’re projecting again, Carin.” He grinned. Her expression confused, she peered up at him. What the hell was he talking about? When he tapped the side of his head, she dropped her gaze to the floor, embarrassed he could so easily pick her thoughts out of the air.

  “Bix, it’s after eight o’clock. It’s too late to eat, and I’d like to know what you’re doing here.”

  He moved around t
he coffee table and peeled the soft leather coat from his body, then carelessly tossed it across the arm of the sofa. Sitting beside her, he took her smaller hands in his and stroked the center of her palm with his thumb. “Let me put you at ease, baby.”

  Baby? Her forearm muscles flexed involuntarily at the sudden urge to smack him.

  “Working for a multibillion dollar organization has its downside. Unfortunately, I’m here in San Diego for more than just the cancer drug you’re working on for us. I wanted to see you but my choices were to either wake you up past midnight after I was done working, or come by when I could…which is now.”

  “So, it wasn’t just a one-night stand?” she asked boldly, needing some closure once and for all. Sure, she was upset the man hadn’t called, but if she had any sense she would leave well enough alone. Hell, a single bang was the way to go with him, or anyone else. She had work to do and couldn’t afford to be distracted. But damn, she really wanted to be distracted by him. Badly.

  “One-night stand? Not on your life. You’re addicting, baby, and there are some things I’d like you to consider, but we’ll talk about that later.”

  “How did you find out where I live?”

  “I have my ways,” he teased with a sheepish grin. She wasn’t buying it and her well-practiced “come again” glare must have gotten her point across. He threw up his hands in the universal “I give” salute.

  “My organization always asks for the personal information of any person working on research for us. Besides”—he leaned forward to plant a silken kiss across her forehead—“do you really mind that I didn’t call first?”

  Well, no, but it was the principle of the thing, though she hadn’t said as much. This psychic stuff would take some getting used to.

  “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to disappoint you. Let me make it up to you?” At her subtle nod he pulled back the cardboard cover from one of the foil tins and revealed her favorite food in the whole world. Chile rellenos. And he’d even left off the cheese. Like many black women her age with lactose intolerance, she had a deep abiding love for dairy but couldn’t touch the stuff. How had he known? She guessed the same way he knew everything else about her—he was damned nosy. She wasn’t sure whether she should be pissed off at his intrusion into her personal information, or flattered because he’d paid attention to such small details.