Full Moon Rising

by Arthur, Keri

  Couldn’t be sad about that, either. “Quinn O’Conor, you are welcome to step over the threshold of my home anytime you please.”

  He stepped through the door, then took my hand and brushed a kiss across my fingertips. Warmth spread like quicksilver through my body, and deep inside, my soul trembled.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  I took my hand from his, then walked into the kitchen and grabbed a soda and a synth blood pack from the fridge. Quinn was standing near the window when I came back out, the early-morning sunlight streaming in through the glass surrounding him in a halo of gold.

  He accepted the blood pack with a smile, and said, “I can’t see any of them.”

  “You’re not supposed to.” I dropped my bag and popped the soda. “Rhoan and Jack are guardians, and good at what they do.”

  I gulped down the soda, then walked back into the kitchen to dump the can into the rubbish bin. Quinn was watching me as I walked back out. “You’re favoring your right leg a little. You’d better shift the position of the knife.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  I bent and tried to adjust the weapon. Just getting my hand down the side of the boots was hard enough, and I fleetingly wished I’d gone for something more flexible in footwear. But Talon had liked them and might be inclined to leave them on. They were practically a second skin, and under normal situations would have shown any weapons shoved down them.

  But the Directorate’s knives were far from normal—three of them were thin, clear sheets of plastic that were as rigid as steel and could slice through just about anything—or so I’d been assured. The other was almost identical, only it was made of a special compound that reacted with blood and disintegrated—revealing the silver strip that ran down the heart of it. Ideal, Rhoan assured me, for pinning werewolves and other shapeshifters to human form. Personally, I preferred the microscopic hand laser secured in the topknot of my hair.

  Quinn had those and more, but I had a suspicion that he wouldn’t use them unless he absolutely had to.

  When I finally got the knife in a comfortable position, he wrapped his fingers around my arm and pulled me close. I rested my cheek against his chest, listening to the slow beat of his heart, feeling safer than I ever had in my life.

  An illusion, but one I could have easily surrendered to.

  “It’s close to nine,” I said, after a long while. “Hope they get here soon.” Before whatever courage I’d started with got up and walked away.

  “There’s a van moving up the street,” he said, his voice a rumble that vibrated through my ear. “There are eight people inside.”

  “I think I should be offended that Talon’s only sent an extra two to deal with me.”

  He laughed softly and brushed his lips across the top of my hair. “They’re expecting the element of surprise.”

  “They should also be expecting a fight.”

  “Talon’s never seen you in action, has he? And six were quite enough to overpower me.”

  I looked up at him. “You never satisfactorily explained that.”

  He grimaced. “It was simply the fact that they were all the spitting image of Henri. I wasn’t expecting it and it shocked me. In a life-or-death situation, a second’s hesitation is all it takes to change the odds.”

  And it was almost his death. “So why the garden center?”

  “As I said, I suspect they wanted it to look like a random vampire killing.”

  It made sense. Given the amount of vamp murders that had happened over the past few weeks, no one would have raised an eyebrow. And while the Directorate would have investigated, if it had looked like a singular event rather than gang-related, it probably would have been given lower priority.

  “They’re getting out of the van,” he said softly.

  Tension wound through my limbs, and my stomach began doing tight circles. “Clones?”

  “Mix of clones and werewolves.”

  I took a deep breath, then raised on my toes and gave him a kiss. “Good luck.”

  His lips lingered on mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You too.”

  The doorbell rang. I took another breath, then broke away from his grasp and shook nerveless fingers. “Yes?”

  “Special delivery,” a gruff voice answered. “Needs to be signed for.”

  I glanced at Quinn a final time, saw his tension in the set of his shoulders, then walked to the door. My fingers shook as I clasped the handle and undid the deadlock, but I never got the chance to open the door. Instead, it was thrust open by those on the other side, striking me in the nose and flinging me backward.

  I hit the ground with a grunt, but rolled immediately to my feet. There was blood gushing from my nose and people flowing through the doorway. They smelled of rubbish left too long in the sun. Whatever method Talon was using to create the things was also killing them.

  Then there was no more time to think as two of them rushed at me. I ducked the blow of the first creature, but missed the second. His fist smashed into my chin and the force of it had me sprawling backward. I hit the floor a second time, my breath leaving in a whoosh of air. For a moment, stars danced, the world went dark, and the bitter taste of blood filled my throat.

  Someone who smelled of sex and death fell on top of me. Though gasping for breath and fighting the blackness threatening to invade my mind, I still heard the creature snarl. He smelled and looked like a wolf, but his teeth were extending, saliva dripping from the ends in expectation of a feed.

  The bastard wasn’t going to feed off me, not if I could help it.

  With as much force as I could muster, I slammed the heel of my hand into his face. Bone and cartilage shattered under the blow, and he screamed. I thrust him off, scrambled to my feet, and swiped a hand at the blood running from my nose.

  Air rushed from the left. I pivoted on one foot, kicking hard. The blow landed in the gut of the clone rushing at me, but didn’t seem to have the slightest effect. He grabbed my foot, twisting it hard, making me yelp. His smile was greasy and overconfident and I saw why a second later when he raised the gun. I jerked my foot from his grasp, heard the slight “pop,” felt a brief sting of pain in my arm. Looked down, and saw the dart.

  Being drugged was better than being battered unconscious.

  Even so, I went down fighting.

  Talon would expect nothing less.

  Chapter 15

  Awareness snuck in slowly, and with it came a sense of déjà vu. Voices surrounded me, some that were tinny and some guttural. Lights as bright as the sun burned into my closed eyes. The air was a cool caress and yet my skin burned.

  As awareness sharpened, it formed a picture of rising pleasure and lingering pain. My arms were raised above my head, the pins and needles in my fingers suggesting they’d been that way for some time.

  Sweat stung the air, mingling with the heady aroma of sex and lust. The moon fever seared through my system, the sheer strength of it a warning that the time of changing was near.

  My back was pressed against something cold and hard, my stomach against flesh as hot as the sun. My skin was on fire and every muscle quivered.

  Hands were on me, bruising and familiar. Heat filled me, thrusting deep, pushing me toward the crescendo I both wanted and hated.

  As before, it wasn’t a dream. Talon was in me, and I was responding as strongly as I ever had.

  Pleasure spiraled, until it became a force that would not be denied. I came at the same time he did, but bit my lip against the strangled gasp rising up my throat. My body might be conditioned to respond to his touch and his smell, but I wasn’t a willing participant in this mating, and I’d be damned if I’d give him the satisfaction of knowing he could still make me come.

  He gave one last thrust, then withdrew and stepped back. The room behind him was narrow and long, the wall opposite all glass. Comfy chairs followed the curve of the glass, and behind these, several sofas. It reminded me of the private
boxes often seen in sporting venues. The only thing that differed was the long control panel and desk to my left.

  My gaze finally met Talon’s. Amusement shone in his golden eyes and his expression was all arrogance. My fingers clenched, but with my hands chained above my head there was little leeway to swing a punch.

  “I guess this means you’ve decided it’s still okay to fuck a half-breed, huh?” I said dryly.

  He sauntered over to the sofa and sat on the back of it, one leg swinging idly. “Fuck, yes. Have a child with, no. I am the pinnacle of the werewolf race. I can breed with nothing less than similar perfection.”

  I raised an eyebrow at that. He was perfection, but only in body. The heart and soul left a lot to be desired. “Then you’re going to die childless.”

  A smile played about his lips. “Perhaps.”

  I didn’t trust that smile or the glint in his eyes. They bode me no good. I shifted slightly, testing the chains around my legs. They were as tight as those on my hands, but the brush of leather against my thigh said I still had my boots on. Though the knives were a fat lot of good if I couldn’t get to them. Still, there was one good thing. The chains weren’t silver.

  “So why bring me here at all?”

  “Because you are a dhampire, and one with few problems, which is extremely rare. Examining your genes will greatly enhance my research.”

  “I thought you were breeding clones?”

  “I am. But I’m also exploring the DNA of different races in the hope it’ll explain why my clones are dying.”

  “Here’s a news flash. You want to create dhampires, all you have to do is wait by the grave of an undead. Grab him when he rises and milk away. His seed is viable for up to twenty-four hours.”

  “The newly risen are extremely violent, and I have not the resources to waste just yet.”

  “Yet you can keep throwing them at Quinn.” And me.

  He shrugged. “He was getting dangerous.”

  “Because he was getting close?”

  “Yes.”

  “And where is he now?”

  His eyes glinted at me. “Do you care?”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s a vampire, for God’s sake.”

  Talon snorted. “At least you have some taste left. He’s downstairs, in a cell. He’ll prove a good test for my latest batch.”

  “He’s not a guardian.” It was a guess, but a fairly certain one.

  His smile flashed. “No. He is something better—an extremely old vampire.”

  Part of me ached to ask about Kelly, but I didn’t. Mostly because I needed to be strong at that moment, and if I knew for sure she was dead, strong was the one thing I wouldn’t be. “And is that what you plan for me as well?”

  “Oh no, little wolf. You will spend your days in my labs here in Genoveve and your nights in my bed.”

  His voice was a low and familiar caress I felt deep inside. Given the fast-approaching full moon, desire was almost automatic, but it was accompanied by a churning in my gut. I really didn’t want him to touch me, but if push came to shove, there might be little choice.

  “Tell me, did you send those sickos in the van after me?”

  Anger flickered in his eyes. “No.”

  “Then who did?”

  “Someone who is of no consequence to you now.”

  Meaning he expected me to stay here like some good little puppy? The man was an idiot. An insane idiot. “Then why were they bringing me here first?”

  “Because those guards were mine, and obey my orders first.”

  I raised an eyebrow. Dissension in the ranks had to be good for us. “And your orders were?”

  “To bring you here so I could claim what I wanted first.” He paused. “It was before I realized you had tainted blood, remember.”

  Tainted blood? That was almost as bad as Quinn asking me if I needed “relief.” “So was the man giving orders Misha?”

  Talon snorted. “Misha is a fool who plays a dangerous game.”

  “Then who is in charge?”

  His golden eyes twinkled with amusement. “Someone you know, little wolf. Someone you’ve had dealings with for some time now.”

  Well, gee, that narrowed down the field. It could be a past lover, or a friend, or the guy I bought coffee off most lunchtimes. “I don’t suppose you can be a little more specific?”

  “I don’t suppose I can.”

  My fists clenched, but it was pretty much a useless gesture of irritation. “Do you really think the Directorate is going to let you grab one of their people and not do anything about it?”

  “You’re a secretary, not a guardian. I hardly think they’ll miss you.”

  “Rhoan will.”

  His smile reminded me of a shark. A conceited one at that. “Neither Rhoan nor the Directorate knows anything about Genoveve or this facility. They concentrate their efforts on Moneisha and I’m quite happy for them to continue to do so.”

  His arrogance would be his downfall—and I hoped like hell I would be there at the end to witness it.

  He rose and sauntered over to the window, staring out. I closed my eyes, imagining that dark plain and the door I’d created.

  Talon’s voice made me start.

  “My father started this research a long time ago, and I have every intention of finishing it.”

  “So your father was as mad as you?” My comment was absent, my concentration on opening that door. Sweat trickled down my forehead.

  “My father was a genius. He saw the potential in the werewolf race, a potential that was not being realized simply because breeding was not being selective enough.”

  The dark plain rolled before me, the red wall shimmering brightly. I grasped the door handle and thrust my weight against the door. It still felt like I was trying to move a mountain, and I wondered if it would get better with time—and usage—or whether this sort of mental stiffness was natural.

  Talon droned on. “He spent his life studying the DNA sequences of the genes within an adult werewolf, how the proteins are made, and how they are used to construct the adult body. I am the result of his research.”

  My eyes flew open. “You’re a clone?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I prefer to call myself a natural creation of the lab. I am everything my father and the werewolf race is not.”

  I stared at him, dumbfounded. And yet it explained his size. And the overwhelming power of his aura. It wasn’t natural. “But . . . why then do all your clones reek of death if your father perfected the research?”

  “Because much of the research was lost in a fire that took my father’s life. And because I use an accelerant so I have fully functioning adults to test. Vampire genes are more elusive than werewolf.”

  “So why are you working on vampire clones if your father saw the potential of werewolves?”

  “Because the vampire is faster than the wolf and has the gift of shadowing. Pinpoint the sequences that give birth to this difference, add them to the werewolf, and you have a creature of unstoppable power.”

  “And yet you’re rejecting me because I’m not full were. That really doesn’t make sense, even for a madman.”

  His smile was condescending. “My creations will be all wolf—they will just have a few extra sequences that will give them greater skills.”

  “Then they are not wolf.”

  He snorted. “Like I am not a wolf, just because my DNA has been enhanced? No, my creations will be weres, and they will be all-powerful.”

  And he planned to be the force behind that power. God only knew what he intended to do with it. “Is Misha working with you in this? His company is certainly working to pinpoint the vampire genes.”

  Mirth played about his mouth. “Misha refuses to see the benefits in cloning.”

  So Misha had been telling the truth in that respect, but could I trust the truth of everything else he’d said? Somehow, I suspected not. “So he’s your partner?”

  “Not in Genoveve.”

&n
bsp; So, again, Misha had been telling the truth. Question was, why, when he was obviously involved not only with Talon in other ventures, but also with the man who controlled them both?

  A light flashed on the panel to my left. Talon sauntered over and picked up the phone. The voice on the other end of the phone was guttural and edged with some sort of accent, making it difficult to pick up any words from where I stood.

  Talon hung up, then walked over to me and grabbed my face with one hand, his fingers digging into my cheeks. This close his aura was smothering, all heat and longing and need. “Business to attend to,” he said, then kissed me hard.

  God help me, the fever rose, and it was all I could do not to arch into his body. But when he stepped back, I spat in his face. He laughed and wiped the spittle away with an arm. “We shall see how feisty you are once that fever has had time to burn.”

  He walked out. I closed my eyes and conjured the psi door again, pushing with all my might. This time it opened, and I didn’t fall on my face.

  Are you all right?

  Quinn’s mind voice was flat and soft, yet his anger and concern seemed to resound through every fiber, providing both warmth and strength.

  Yes. You?

  Nothing worse than bruised ribs. I’m currently locked in a cell, but I have all the hidden weapons.

  As have I. I’m chained in what looks like a control room over what I’m presuming is an arena.

  Is Talon with you?

  Just left.

  And the fever?

  Burns. Right then the force of fear made me able to ignore it, but I had a suspicion Talon only needed to walk into the room and that would be the end of any pretense of control.

  Can you escape?

  I tugged experimentally on the chains. Concrete dust sprinkled downward, making me sneeze. Probably take me a while, but yes.

  Then start trying. This cell has laser bars, and I can’t get out until they’re down.

  So you’re not holding out hope that Rhoan and Jack are going to come rushing to the rescue any minute now?

  It’s five in the afternoon. If they’re rushing, they’ve got a strange way of showing it.

  Something has gone wrong.