“The Corporation would be this evil twin thing?” asked Holland.
“In a sense, yes.” James scrolled through files on the handheld. “They had your information on file. Within the records is information regarding your parents. Your birth mother, your biological father, and the man who called himself your father.”
Ezra felt Holland’s confusion and fear. He reached for her hand and caught it, giving it a gentle squeeze to let her know he was there for her.
James continued. “Your mother’s test results show she was a full-blooded Fae. Do you know what a Fae is?”
Holland shook her head.
Ezra answered, “Faerie, all variations, and often the term applies to other magiks, as well.”
“I’m like a leprechaun?” she asked, digging her nails into Ezra’s palm. “Maybe I’m related to Donnie. He’s Irish and a wolf.”
James laughed. “No. But you are from a rather powerful line of magik. One that our records have listed as dying out several centuries ago. Somehow, it survived. You’re proof of that.”
Holland stilled. “So, you’re saying I don’t have any relatives. That I’m it.”
“I think you’ll find you have relatives from your father’s side,” replied James.
Holland stepped into Ezra’s embrace. “Thanks, but I don’t want to catch up with anymore crazies. I have Ezra. He’s my family now.”
“Damn straight,” said Ezra, kissing her cheek tenderly.
James leaned against the high counter in the exam room. “Holland, the Corporation has records on you and your genetic makeup because they facilitated it. From what I can decipher, your mother sought them out—wanting a child, but unable to conceive one with the man you grew up believing was your real father.”
Holland put her palm to Ezra’s chest. “So my mom went to the bad guys for help getting pregnant?”
“It appears so,” said James. “Before you think ill of her, know that children are very rare for most supernaturals. And they’re something many will go to great lengths to have. The man you thought was your father was not your mother’s mate. She underwent a great deal of testing with the Corporation, and from the records I’m looking at here, the process took several years.”
“My mother was with the bad guys for years?” Holland asked, her voice barely there. “On purpose?”
“Yes. There is page after page of detailed notes here. It will take time to pore through them fully, but I think it’s safe to say she entered the program willingly, wanting a child, but at some point, it reads as if her choices were taken from her.” He glanced quickly at Ezra and no words were needed.
Ezra knew what James was stressing. Holland’s mother had been through brutal, horrible tests.
“From what I’m seeing here, you weren’t your mother’s first live birth,” James said, his jaw jutting out. “There is information here on another full-term pregnancy.”
Ezra wasn’t sure he wanted to hear more. He knew the types of people who did tests like that—and he couldn’t handle hearing what had become of the infant.
Holland stayed close to him as she spoke to James. “What happened to the other child? Did it not survive?”
“They survived.”
“They?” asked Ezra. “As in more than one pregnancy prior to Holland?”
“Twin girls,” returned James. “A set born a year before Holland. I’ll have to spend more time digging through the files, but at first glance, it would appear they were taken at birth from your mother. From what I can gather, she was told they didn’t survive, but they did.”
“I have sisters?” asked Holland.
“We have people who can try to track the information trail to see what became of them, but yes.”
Holland drew away from Ezra and walked to the side of the room. She busied herself by running her hand over a tabletop there. “Ezra said you can only have children with your mate. How did my mother have any if my father wasn’t her special person?”
James set the handheld on the counter near him and put his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat. “These bad people who did the tests have a long history of existence. They have been called a lot of different names throughout time. Once they were even known as Nazis. I’m sure if you look back in history and find something really bad, they’ll have ties to it in some fashion or form. And I don’t think I’d be out of line to say they predate PSI. My guess is PSI and its divisions were born out of a need to try to stop or at least balance out the wrongs that were occurring.”
“They were,” said Ezra.
James snorted. “I forget you’re like as old as time.”
Holland glanced at him and offered a seductive look. “Newt, I told you that you looked great for your age.”
He knew she was trying to lighten the mood in the room. “I’m a fucking catch for an old guy.”
She laughed. “Oh yeah. Totally.”
James gave them a moment before speaking again. “Holland, your mother was inseminated the first time with samples these people collected from a test subject they’d held prisoner for a length of time. He was a dragon-shifter.”
“Hold on, I’m part lizard?” she asked, looking to Ezra. “No offense, Newt.”
Ezra laughed. “None taken. Though, if James tells me we’re related I’m going to hurt him.”
He was joking. He already knew they weren’t. He’d have sensed it on her.
James snorted. “No relation.”
Holland tipped her head. “I don’t turn into a dragon, or do I?”
James grinned. “No. It’s not that uncommon for females born to shifters to be unable to change shapes fully. And it’s not unheard of for them to not be able to change shapes at all. My guess is because your mother’s line of Fae were well-known at one point as being very gifted with the element of fire, and your biological father was a dragon-shifter, you’ve got a double dose of the gift of pyrokinesis or something close to it.”
“You’re saying I have a hard time controlling my darkness because I come from two people who could do it?” she asked.
Ezra covered the distance to her. “What I can do with fire is nothing like what you can. I can breathe it when I’m shifted and withstand flames and heat. You do something altogether different. Your entire body seems to gather the energy around you and you change it somehow, turning it into fire.”
“PSI has a number of Fae on staff who are gifted in the arts of fire,” James said. “Ezra and I can reach out to them. They’d be happy to teach you to control your Fae side—which is clearly the dominant side. And we can all try to track your clan of dragons. They’ll want to meet you.”
Holland touched Ezra’s arm, but looked at James. “You said my sisters were created using insemination. How was I made, if not the same way?”
James took his hands from his pockets. “Caught that, did you?”
“She never misses much,” offered Ezra. “And she’s always full of questions.”
James lifted the handheld again. “All it says here is that you were conceived through natural methods. That means intercourse. Your mother and your biological father—her true mate—did the deed and you were the result of it.”
“So how did the asshole Ezra killed come into play?” asked Holland.
“His medical information is listed in here, too,” said James. “He and your mother entered the testing at the same time—probably hoping to be able to beat nature and the odds. The asshole, as you call him, was fully human. It does note that he requested being added to a hybrid testing program, but wasn’t a good fit.”
“The asshole tried to be made into one of those hybrid things I’ve been hearing about?” asked Ezra, horrified. He wasn’t sure if the idea someone would willingly do that to themselves sickened him more than the knowledge that the hybrid testing clearly went back over twenty-five years at least, or more.
“People do a lot of things for love,” answered James. “And any man who subjected himself to what they put him th
rough has to love the woman they’re with.”
“He didn’t know how to love,” said Holland harshly.
“There is an old story I was told as a child—about certain types of Fae who can create madness in humans through intercourse with them or exposing them to their magik. It’s said the drive to be with the Fae intimately is all-consuming and often leads to madness in the human. Your Fae line is something I’d label ancient. Stands to reason these stories about madness were born out of truths of some sort.”
“You’re saying his love for my mom drove him nuts?” she asked.
Ezra sighed. “I’ve heard the stories, too, Sweet Pea.”
She looked at him. “Thank you again for putting him to sleep and making him take a nap.”
“If I could wake him and kill him again, I would,” said Ezra, meaning every word of it. “I don’t care how insane he was from loving anyone—that doesn’t justify what he did to you, what he put you through.”
She slid her arms around his waist. “Shh, it’s okay.”
“It’s far from okay. He tried to burn you alive, Holland.” He remembered the day as if it were yesterday. The same shock, horror, and revulsion he’d felt then washed over him once more.
Holland went to her tiptoes, planting a kiss on his lips. “I love you. Calm down, Newt.”
“I have some news that might help his temperament,” said James, stepping forward.
“Bigger news than I might have sisters out there somewhere? And a father I’ve never met?” Holland asked.
Ezra held her close.
“Well, only if you consider finding out you are, without a doubt, pregnant as being bigger news,” said James with a wink. “Before Newt freaks out. You’re totally healthy.”
Ezra didn’t hear anything past that. All he got out of it was that his mate was expecting. He lifted her and kissed her, unconcerned with how it looked to James. The man was mated. He understood the raw need.
Ezra had to be in his mate.
He couldn’t wait.
James hurried toward the door of the exam room. He cleared his throat. “On that note, I’ll be in my office. Way down the hall. Carry on.”
Holland wrapped her legs around his waist and he reached between them, freeing himself from his jeans. He slid her panties aside and growled as he thrust his cock into her, spearing her sweetly.
She gasped into his mouth, riding on his cock, moving her hips perfectly.
He kept going, kept pushing into her as he held her off the ground, savoring the feel of her. He felt the air charging with energy around them and knew that Holland was losing control of her gift of fire.
He broke the kiss, but kept moving in and out of her. “Focus on me, Sweet Pea. Let the energy roll through me. Don’t let it out in the room.”
Nodding, she ground against him, tossing her head back, her power slamming into him. It didn’t hurt or burn him. It gave him a boost of energy, invigorating him, making him fuck her harder than before.
They were perfect together.
And they were going to have a family.
She kissed him and her body tightened on his shaft.
Ezra lost control, jetting seed deep into her, holding her close to him, kissing her tenderly.
Words can’t express how much you mean to me, Sweet Pea.
You’re all right yourself, Newt, for a lizard.
Laughing, he held her there, knowing he was far from done making love to her. He’d never get enough of her, as it was meant to be.
THE END
Excerpt from Midnight Echoes: Part of the Immortal Ops Series World (Crimson Ops) by Mandy M. Roth
Copyright 2016
Chapter One
Meena Emathia sat in the oversized gymnasium that had been built onto her grandparents’ home. It was a training facility. To her understanding, it had originally been used solely by her grandfather—a master vampire once feared the world over—and his men. She had a very hard time seeing her grandfather, Labrainn, as a killing machine or a man who struck fear into the hearts of other supernaturals. As far as she knew, he’d given up his wicked ways when he’d mated with her grandmother, a real-life fairy.
And since Meena’s birth, even more had changed. Her grandfather had partnered with two organizations, Paranormal Security and Intelligence (PSI) and the Paranormal Regulators. Meena still wasn’t clear on the distinction between the two, but she’d been told that PSI was much like the human version of the CIA, and the Regulators were more like a version of the police—but she wasn’t totally sure she that was right. She’d once made the mistake of asking for clarification and was still confused as to what went where and with who. Either way, her grandfather and his men all fought for the good guys now.
Her father, Stamatis, was a Paranormal Regulator and had been for centuries. He also worked on and off with PSI directly under their Crimson Sentinel Ops Division, or Fang Gang, as she’d heard his best friend, Whitney—a wolf shifter—joke more than once. Her grandfather’s right-hand man, Bhaltair, was also a member of the Fang Gang now, though no one joked with him about the name.
Everyone was smarter than that.
Vampires, werewolves and faerie were commonplace in her world, though she often felt like an outsider looking in. Where most humans had no idea supernaturals existed, and great pains were taken to keep them ignorant of such, Meena had been privy to them since birth. She wasn’t like them though.
Not even close.
She glanced around the training room. It was extremely large but relatively empty, as was often the case when her sister Rose was training. Rose had been born with many vampire traits and gifts, but without a demon or the need for blood. This made her special. All the perks with none of the negatives.
Meena wasn’t so lucky. Despite both of their parents being supernaturals, Meena had been born human.
A pang of jealousy reared its ugly head, and she was quick to push it down. She didn’t like being petty. She was healthy and loved by people who would never grow old and who would more than likely live hundreds of years more than her. They would go on long after she was gone, and that brought her joy. She’d seen a number of her human friends lose loved ones, and the effects on them had been devastating.
She didn’t even want to think on it more. Glancing around the training room, Meena watched as Rose flipped, sparring with Bhaltair. At six-two, and second-in-command to her grandfather, Bhaltair was imposing. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of him that wasn’t muscle. He somehow managed to avoid looking too muscular, but only just barely. He moved with an impressive gracefulness, reminding her more of a dancer than the legendary, feared vampire she’d heard mention of him being more than once. She knew he was holding back.
“Come on, Walt,” yelled Rose, annoyance coating her every word. “You’re going easy on me. I thought you special operatives were tougher than this.”
Meena cringed at the sound of her sister using the English version of Bhaltair’s name. It did not suit the man in the least. That didn’t stop Rose from calling him Walt or Walter as much as possible. Probably to get a rise out of him.
He didn’t take the bait. He did, however, twist and use his fighting staff to sweep Rose’s legs out from under her, depositing her on her backside. Meena couldn’t help but laugh softly at the look of indignation on her sister’s face. The girls often argued, as sisters often did, but in the end they loved each other greatly.
“Jerk move,” said Rose, pushing to her feet.
Bhaltair licked his lips, his gaze moving to Meena for the briefest of moments.
She tensed, her heart rate increasing and her palms beginning to sweat. That response had been happening more and more around him of late. She wasn’t sure why, but his very glance could suddenly send her body into overdrive. She wanted to touch him—something she rarely did.
“Have you had enough?” he asked, a Scottish brogue evident. There were times it was quite thick and other times it was barely noticeable.
Rose grunted and went at him again. He deflected her attack with no real effort. That only served to piss Rose off more. Her sister, in addition to possessing the gifts of a supernatural, also had a heck of a temper.
It was important to their parents that the girls be trained and be able to protect themselves should the need arise. Rose had come out of the womb headstrong and ready to kick butt. Meena hadn’t, leaving her feeling like a colossal letdown to her parents and the supernatural community in general. She didn’t have super strength or excessive speed. She was clumsy at best, and where Rose could take a hit and keep on going, Meena tended to end up battered, bruised or with broken limbs.
When she’d come out the other side of a training session with two broken bones from one well-placed hit by Bhaltair, he’d refused to train her again. She strongly suspected he’d been avoiding her since then as well. The few times he’d allowed himself to be in the same room with her, he’d treated her as if she were a delicate porcelain doll who might break if looked at too long or hard.
For a while, she’d refused to allow it to bother her. She’d stayed busy and done her best to be scarce whenever Rose was training. But lately, Meena was drawn to the training sessions.
More specifically, drawn to Bhaltair. The urge to touch him ate at her, nearly forcing her from her seated position.
She closed the book she’d been reading and watched as Rose swung high at Bhaltair’s head with her fighting staff. Meena’s breath caught and she waited, fearing he would be hurt. He merely leaned back, the staff gliding past his head as if it had never been a threat at all.
He glanced in her direction and winked.
She was surprised. He wasn’t known for winking at her.
Or at all that she knew.
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