“Exactly what Aidan said.” Krys looked at her mate and nodded. “Fen told me he was turned about five years ago. I can fill you in later or he can tell you himself, but Aidan’s giving me the look. We’ve gotta go.”
As Krys and Glory headed out the front door, Aidan and Mirren joined Cage in the common area near the fireplace. Nik and Robin remained in the doorway to the kitchen as if unsure whether to join in. Cage was surprised that Robin had the self-restraint to wait and see if they were invited to this party—until she elbowed Nik in the ribs. When they moved apart, Cage saw that Nik had a firm grip on the back of her shirt collar, holding her in place.
Brave man, Nik.
“We have some stuff to talk about.” At Aidan’s voice, everyone stilled, even Robin. “We have some decisions to make. But I have to first remind everyone that what’s said here tonight stays here.”
Mirren had bypassed the chairs and leaned against the wall next to the fireplace, his arms crossed over his chest. Standing in his favorite Mirren position, in other words. “What about them?” He didn’t have to say who “them” was.
“Colonel Thomas speaks very highly of both of you.” Aidan nodded at Nik and Robin. “And God knows we need you here, desperately. But before we go any further, you need to be bonded to either Mirren or me. I require it of everyone who lives in Penton, and the colonel has agreed to it. It’s safer for all of us. Cage, we never broke our bond before you went back to London and I can still feel it, so you’re good to go. Any questions, Nik or Robin?”
They exchanged glances. “We were told a little about the bonding requirement, but not the specifics,” Nik said. “Like, you can draw strength from us, right? And know where we are? But how does it work, exactly?”
Aidan nodded. “If I’m within range of you, I’ll know if you’re in danger. I can pull physical strength from you if I’m injured, but again, only within a certain range. You can’t be fed from by any vampire who is not also bonded to me—either directly, or indirectly through Mirren or Will.”
“Okay.” Nik shrugged. “What do we do?”
“You exchange blood with a master vampire.” Mirren pushed himself away from the wall with one foot and stalked toward them, coming to a stop in front of Robin. She looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “Afterward, whoever you’re bonded to will know if you’re being dishonest or disloyal.”
“I got no problem with that.” Robin turned to look at Cage. “But I want to do it with him, with Cage.”
Mirren hiked one dark eyebrow northward. “Oh, you would, would you?”
Thank God vampires couldn’t blush; otherwise, Cage might have to slink back to London in humiliation at the speculative look Mirren was laying on him. He could swear the man was almost smiling—except that, of course, it was Mirren.
“I don’t give a fuck what you and Reynolds do with each other in your own time, but he’s not a master vampire. You got me, or you got Aidan.”
“Let’s just get it over with.” Nik wedged himself between Robin and Mirren. “How do we do this?”
“Better to do it sitting, so I’ll show you.” Aidan moved to the end of the sofa, and Nik sat about a foot away from him, back rigid, jaw clenched. “Relax. Roll up your sleeve and hold out your arm.”
No man bound for the gallows ever had a more grim expression than the one on Nik’s face as he shoved up the right sleeve of his olive-green shirt and stuck his arm out toward Aidan. “It’s not like feeding,” Cage said, hoping to reassure him. “It doesn’t last long, and it’ll be easier if you relax your posture a little.”
Nik shot an irate look in Cage’s direction, but took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulder muscles—until Aidan grasped Nik’s wrist firmly in one hand and pulled out his pocketknife. Nik struggled to pull away but couldn’t; it was his first taste of vampire strength. “What’s the knife for?”
Aidan’s smile was faint. “You’d rather I bit?”
“Uh, no. The knife’s fine.” To Nik’s credit, he only flinched slightly when Aidan made a small horizontal cut across the soft underside of his forearm, swept his tongue across the cut, and quickly placed his mouth over it. Before the first draw of blood, Nik closed his eyes and visibly relaxed. A vampire’s saliva numbed the cut and sent nice, orgasmic waves of pleasure through the feeder. The longer the feed, the more intense the feeling.
Most likely, Nik barely had a buzz before Aidan licked the wound to seal it. He quickly flicked the knife across his own forearm and held it out. “Now, you.”
“Seriously? Man, this is so gross—nothing personal.” Nik grasped Aidan’s arm, raising it toward his mouth. Cage missed the rest of the exchange, though, because Robin had turned around slightly to watch, her lips parted and a rapt look on her face. Bloody hell. She was turned on just by watching it.
Cage had never wanted to be a master vampire. It was a pain in the ass, seemed to him. Sure, you developed some nifty psychic skills, but with power came responsibility and all that claptrap. He didn’t want more responsibility.
But he also found he didn’t want Robin Ashton’s mouth on Aidan or Mirren—or any other vampire. And he didn’t want anyone else’s mouth on her. Somehow, her friends-with-benefits relationship with Nik hadn’t bothered him. But this did. It shouldn’t, but it did.
You’re being a fool, Reynolds. He hadn’t gotten laid in a while, that was all. And the self-sabotaging part of his personality probably thought fucking Robin Ashton would be the surest way of hurting Melissa so she’d end things with him before he had to do the dirty work himself.
Still, when Robin insisted Mirren be the one to bond her, saying it was the only way she’d truly win his trust, Cage felt that shot of adrenaline burst into his bloodstream again. He looked at the painting of a forest scene on the wall, focusing on that instead. I wonder if Glory finally got Mirren to use the art supplies she bought him after the shit with Matthias settled down? Maybe that cold weather will move in next week. Wonder what Americans are watching on the telly these days?
Except Robin kept talking, which made it pretty hard to ignore her and focus on inane internal chatter. Especially when he could follow the sounds of their movements as they took the seats where Aidan and Nik had been.
“What did it feel like?” Robin asked Nik, and then didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Put the knife away, big boy. I want you to bite me.”
Oh, hell no! Cage caught himself before he said it aloud, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking.
Mirren flicked open his blade, grabbed her arm, and cut it before she could react. “These fangs go in no one but my mate. Deal with it.”
“But—Oh . . .” Robin’s voice drained away as Mirren raised her arm to his lips and latched onto the cut, drawing deeply. Her eyes closed, and a small sigh escaped.
Enough already. Cage waited for Mirren to stop, but he drew from her a second time—a big draw, way more than was necessary. Then all thought left Cage as she turned a hooded gaze to look at him. His head spun from the force of the desire on her face. Her pupils had dilated to black pools, her lips trembled slightly, and she shivered.
“Holy fuck.” Mirren shoved Robin’s arm away from him with enough force to jostle her on the adjoining sofa cushion, and Cage caught her. He didn’t remember moving, but he had his arm around her before Mirren cleared the end of the couch.
Mirren started to walk away, but Aidan spoke with more force than Cage had ever heard from him, especially directed at his second-in-command. “Mirren, finish it.”
After a long pause, Mirren did as he was told, drawing out his knife again and making the cut on his own arm. He sat as far from Robin on the sofa as he could and still get his arm in the vicinity of her face. He never turned to look at her.
She shook her head. “I can’t. I don’t . . . I can’t.”
Cage tightened his arm around her shoulders and leaned close, taking in her
scent of pine and sunshine and warmth. She felt so fragile, so small, and yet so alive. Her heart raced, and his head swam at the scent of her blood. Mirren hadn’t sealed the wound, and a trickle of it trailed down her arm. He forced his gaze away from the tantalizing path of red. “It doesn’t taste like you think it will, love. Just a little. I’m here with you.”
She swallowed hard and nodded, but didn’t move.
Cage reached out and took hold of Mirren’s beefy arm, guiding it toward her face. “Just do it quickly and be done, little bird,” he murmured.
Again, Robin nodded. This time, she dipped her head and pressed her lips to Mirren’s skin, taking in a small bit of blood. She began to shiver, and Cage pulled her close as Mirren, his duty done, propelled himself off the sofa like he’d been burned with silver. He took his position against the wall next to the fireplace, looking at the floor.
“Well, that was interesting.” Aidan looked from Mirren to Robin and back again, then settled his gaze on Cage. “Looks like feeding from a shape-shifter is going to be a whole new adventure. I’d suggest Robin not be in rotation as a feeder until we can learn more about it. Cage, why don’t you research that for us?”
“Right.” Cage stroked his fingers up and down Robin’s arm, shoulder to elbow and back, until she finally stilled. He had no intention of letting another vampire anywhere near her.
CHAPTER 11
Mirren leaned against the wall of the common room and studied the looped fibers at the edge of the crimson rug. The stupid thing looked black to him, but Glory assured him it was red.
He might be color-blind, but he knew a fucked-up scene when he got in the middle of one—and bonding with the little shifter had been one fucked-up scene.
It hadn’t occurred to him—or to Aidan, either, obviously—that bonding a shifter would be any different from bonding a human. But this bonding had blown his mind. It hadn’t been sexual, exactly. Mirren had no desire to fuck Robin’s brains out like he did when he fed from Glory, not that this had been a real feeding. It had been two sips—one more than he should have taken. He couldn’t help himself.
A full feeding might have killed him.
Ashton, too, from the looks of it. She was holding on to Reynolds like he was a life raft and she was about to go under for the third time.
No, it hadn’t been sexual. It had been powerful. Addictive, even. Harnessing that kind of power for an extended period? Hell, you’d either conquer the world or self-combust and smile as your heart stopped beating.
Something was going on between Ashton and Cage Reynolds, and Mirren couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if Reynolds mated with her, or worse, just took her as a regular feeder. Did they know the guy well enough to entrust him with that much power?
Then again, it might kill him, and Penton couldn’t afford to lose him.
“Mirren.” Aidan’s voice cut through the mental fog, and Mirren looked up. “We’ve only got a couple of hours until sunrise and we need to talk. You with us?”
More with them by the second. The afterglow of whatever had happened was fading fast, thank God. He sat heavily on the chair opposite Aidan. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Robin? Nik?”
Robin still hadn’t said anything, but she’d quit shaking. She nodded and pulled away from Reynolds, who didn’t look like he wanted to let her go. In fact, he had that look on his face—the one a vampire got after being flattened by a dose of mating hormones.
Poor fucker; he probably didn’t even know it yet. And Mirren wasn’t going to be the one to share it with him.
He shifted his focus back to Aidan. The man had been on edge all evening, waiting for all this other shit to get done. Now, he leaned forward in his chair and repeated his warning: “What’s said in this room stays between us until I say otherwise. Everyone agree?”
No one spoke until Reynolds finally asked, “What about Hannah?”
With Will Ludlam out of town, their resident child vampire psychic was the only one of Aidan’s lieutenants unaccounted for. “She’s been having too many issues adjusting,” Aidan said. “I want to keep this stuff away from her as long as I can.”
Which meant something bad. Something else bad. Some days, Mirren wanted to drive Glory out of here, go somewhere in the mountains where they could live alone, and never look back. The only things keeping him here were his loyalty to Aidan, his respect for Glory’s need to be around other people, and his own refusal to let the Tribunal assholes win.
“First, I talked to Colonel Thomas tonight.” Aidan took a sip of his whiskey. “He’s devastated; no surprise there. Tough as old boots, of course, so he tried to cover, but I could tell. He wanted to call Randa himself, but I thought Will needed to tell her. He’s the one she’ll need to rely on.”
Cage leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his posture mirroring Aidan’s. “Are they still in Atlanta?”
Aidan nodded. “The surgeon told Will pretty much what Krys told him, and what Mirren has said from the beginning. The leg he broke in the Omega cave-in is not going to improve without going in and rebreaking it in at least two places. Even then, there’s no guarantee he’ll regain his full range of motion. He’s probably done as far as Omega Force goes, and it goes without saying that he’s pissed as hell.”
No shit. Junior wanted to be in the thick of everything and was usually damned good at whatever he tackled, not that Mirren would ever say that aloud. Will had a big-enough ego without Mirren’s input.
“He’s not necessarily out of Omega Force.” Nik stood in the doorway to the kitchen. “Our background on you guys says he’s a computer whiz, right?”
“He is,” Aidan said. “Mostly self-taught, but he’s probably the smartest guy I’ve ever met. Why?”
Nik came back into the sitting area and snagged the chair next to Cage. “Our Omega team in Houston had a tech guy—also crazy smart. He figured out ways to get us around security systems, tracked Internet chatter, monitored surveillance footage, conducted background intel, that kind of thing. He’s good with a weapon, but doesn’t do the fieldwork unless it’s an emergency. I don’t know Will, of course, but it sounds like a perfect role for him. I’m sure Gadget—our Texas techie—would talk to him if he’s interested. We did Ranger School together.”
Mirren looked at Zorba with renewed interest. He’d stayed in the background up until now, but he seemed like a straight-up guy. In fact, he reminded Mirren of Rob Thomas, which was a good thing.
Aidan seemed to be reaching the same conclusion. “Thanks, that sounds perfect for him, and I think he’d like doing it. I’ll take you up on that conversation with your Gadget guy as soon as Will gets back. It’ll be a relief for him to know he has a role, and an important one.”
At least it was another warm body. The Penton Omega Force team might finally get off the ground now. Nik, Robin, Cage, Will, and Mirren himself made a good start. Mirren wanted them all training together in order to earn the kind of trust they’d need in fieldwork. There was one other option. “What about Jeffries?” Mirren asked.
Max was a pain in the ass, but he was a good fighter.
“Gone.” Aidan set his glass down and leaned back in the chair. “He’s taking Rob’s body back to Columbus, where the family buries its dead. I don’t know how the colonel will pull it off, but he wants Rob buried next to his mother and Randa’s twin brother.”
Mirren thought Colonel Rick Thomas could pretty much get around any law that needed circumventing, even explaining away an unofficial death. “When’s he coming back?”
Aidan shook his head. “Don’t know—that’s between him and the colonel. But we don’t want him back until his head’s in the right place.”
Mirren hated to lose anyone at this point. “Things are better now that Reynolds is back, but we still need to get our numbers up.” The restless, itchy feeling between his shoulder blades—the drugged af
termath of the shape-shifter bonding—was long gone, and Mirren got to his feet. “What happened at that job site was no accident.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Aidan took a deep breath. “And while we’re trying to figure out who might be sabotaging us, ponder this: Matthias Ludlam is still alive. He escaped, or was helped to escape. No one knows where he is.”
No one spoke. The crackle of a log in the fireplace reverberated like a gunshot through the room, and Mirren would swear the temperature dropped several degrees. “How the fuck is that possible? We were told—”
Aidan held up a hand. “I know. The Tribunal members who sided with Penton in the standoff this summer all got messages from Frank Greisser’s office in Vienna that Matthias had been executed in Virginia. We all thought it was true.”
Mirren hated Greisser. The man looked like a fucking angel and had the integrity of a pit viper. “Greisser lied.” It was more statement than question.
“That would be my guess, although his people are claiming a miscommunication.” Aidan turned to Nik and Robin and gave them a quick rundown of the vampire political structure and its major players—Greisser, the Tribunal head; Meg Lindstrom, the US representative; and UK rep Edward Simmons—and which countries sided with Penton and which didn’t.
“Edward Simmons found out from an American vampire who applied for a transfer into his territory that someone—he doesn’t know who—hired this American and a colleague to take Matthias from his cell at the Virginia estate and leave him in a wooded area in rural West Virginia, where he was picked up—again, we don’t know by whom.”
Mirren had been in his favorite spot against the wall, but the itchy feeling came back, only worse. Time to pace instead. “What are the chances this guy knows more than he’s saying?”
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