“You’ve finally finished what you and my brother set out to do five decades ago,” Nick said with a soft modulation of his voice. He had learned and grown so much in the five decades since becoming Morphate. Proof positive of what a person could become if only they had enough time to learn the lessons life could teach. He’d once been bullish and hotheaded. Now he was the quintessential leader, and the quintessential friend. “You’ve learned how to kill our own kind. You’ve developed the weapons to curb what would otherwise be uncontrollable creatures.”
“Much to Ambrose’s displeasure. And I don’t doubt that Paulson is still out there somewhere, steaming that I got to it first.”
Nick flicked sharp, assessing eyes over her. “I know you went undercover all those years ago to avoid detection from the fractious Morphates, but making this a contest of wills between you and the man that made us was never my intention. I would never have had you give up a normal Morphate life for that. Paulson is a ghost. You can’t find him. No one can unless he wants to be found. Surely you’ve learned that by now?”
Devona reached up with her free hand to massage the growing tension in her temple. “Of course I realize that,” she lied to her Alpha. She believed with all of her heart that Paulson would be the first to hear of her successes. Especially once she was through leaking the information to the right people. Secrecy had served its purpose; now breaking that secrecy would serve an entirely different purpose. Unfortunately, it would also put innocent people in the line of fire, she thought as she slid a tense glance over to the bodyguard at the next table who was trying with all his might not to glare at her. She could sense he didn’t care for her physical contact with another handsome male. He might be human, but he had powerful Alpha tendencies. Had he been Morphate, he most certainly would have ruled a clan. As it was, he was ruling the clan of humans intent on protecting her life; they followed his every command and trusted his every executive decision. Just as all the Morphates in Dark Manhattan trusted Nick’s proven leadership abilities.
“I am not doing this in an attempt to ferret out Paulson,” she lied smoothly. “I am doing this so Ambrose and the others who think to defect from the Alpha Council will know there are permanent consequences for crossing the line.” That, at least, was truthful. “I am doing this to force them to reconsider their lawless positions. Humans and Morphates alike will now have the ability to call them into check. Their days of invulnerability and anarchy are at an end. You put me to this task. You and your brother Kincaid. Fifty years ago you both knew the fractiousness and mayhem of some Morphates would only worsen over time. You had incredible foresight.”
“As did you. I believe you were the one to advise me on this point all those years ago.”
“It was collaborative,” she said dismissively. It no longer mattered who had come to the understanding first. What mattered was what they were going to do with the power they had acquired. And all because one human had accidentally stumbled on a solution they had sought for decades. Her human, she thought with no little sense of pride and respect as she glanced from under her lashes at Liam. She took a breath and leaned closer to Nick, increasing the intimacy of their conversation. “Nick. A word from you and I will destroy them all. Every last weapon. If you think this is a mistake …”
“I don’t. My mind has not changed on the matter. And anyway, it would be rather like trying to put the genie back in the bottle, don’t you think? The power is out, unleashed on the world. If not you, someone else will come up with weapons. No doubt less sophisticated ones.” As was proven by the dangerous and volatile bullets Liam’s team had designed and now were armed with. Devona realized it was very much time to arm them with her more graceful weapons. Especially since they were going to be in so much danger in the coming days. Morphates were gunning for her, trying to wrest the power of her inventions for themselves. They had proven as much with their previous attacks on her.
Nick closed his fingers around her palm, drawing her hand closer to his side of the table. It was a gesture of insistence. It made her look into his intent eyes.
“Come home. Come be with your people again. You’ve done well. Sacrificed much. Hidden what you are. Come home and embrace life as a Morphate once more.”
“Not yet,” she said softly.
“We can protect you in Dark Manhattan. While I respect the reputation and power of these humans you’ve hired from NHK, they can’t protect you like we can. And when this goes public, as it promises to do any moment now, you are going to need Morphates to protect you from Morphates.”
“I disagree. I think the whole point of this was to level the playing field. To give humans a fighting chance against Morphates. I think my guard detail is a perfect way to prove that.”
Nick frowned and she could tell he was tempted to argue further. She could tell he was tempted to throw his weight around and command her as her Alpha to return to the fold. He knew very well that she would be hard pressed to countermand a direct order from him. But Nick was a great believer in personal freedom. It was what made him so good at what he did. He knew when it was appropriate to pull rank and when it was just being dictatorial. True, an Alpha driven society was very dictatorial in nature, but Nick did his level best to hold on to the fairness and ideals of his past humanity.
“I think you are putting them in needless danger. Risking their fragile mortality.”
“I have considered that,” she agreed a bit stiffly. The idea of Liam coming to harm …
She couldn’t resist cutting her eyes toward him, though she knew it was a mistake. She knew she couldn’t hide the distress of her thoughts in that moment. She saw his entire body go rigid with suspicion and hyper-focused attention, saw the way he was already glaring at Nick as though he would put a mercury riddled hole in his head any second. This wasn’t likely to go unnoticed by Nick, who could still access his cop instincts.
He did not disappoint.
“Your watchdog looks like he’d like to bite a chunk out of my ass,” Nick mused without repressing a rascally smile.
“Do not goad him,” Devon warned. Political leader of a species or no, Nick wasn’t above goofing off and stirring up mischief.
“I think he has a crush on you,” Nick observed keenly. Too keenly. It made her look at Nick sharply and her body stiffened with telltale guilt. “Holy shit! Are you screwing your bodyguard? Do you have any idea what a frigging cliché that is?”
“Shh! Keep your voice down,” Devon hushed him frantically. Then she squared her shoulders. “I don’t give a damn about clichés, Nick. Just like Liam doesn’t give a damn about stereotypes. And considering that Morphates have tried to kill him on more than one occasion, I respect him for that.”
Nick had to nod in grave agreement. “Humans have been growing more and more prejudiced against us over the past years. That’s a nerve-wracking thought, considering we were never merrily accepted in the first place. In the beginning we were able to play the victim card. Now people are forgetting about that and are being flooded with negative news stories that the Morphates of Dark L. A., Dark Phoenix, and their splinter groups have been causing. I won’t even touch on the subject of our … unusual offspring. And it’s only going to get worse. All the more reason for you to come back behind the safe walls of Dark Manhattan, Devona.”
She just shook her head.
“Not yet, Nick.” She looked back at Liam. “Not yet.”
Nick could have pressed her. He could have teased her quite a bit more, too, he realized as he read her distracted attention toward her bodyguard. But he did not. She was in danger, dancing on a precarious sword’s tip. She certainly didn’t need any more flack from her Alpha. He’d have Amara contact her in a day or two and let his mate work on coaxing her Beta back into the fold. If anyone was going to succeed, it would be Amara, Nick thought. Their friendship had been forged in the hell of Paulson’s laboratory. Nick’s mate deserved the right to command her lieutenants. He would not interfere. In fact, he was only
there at Amara’s behest. He would not have presumed otherwise. Being Alpha did not mean walking all over the rights of his mate. Not in his mind, anyway.
“Okay then. Not yet,” he agreed with a nod. “But I don’t have to tell you this request isn’t going to stop with me.”
Devon smiled. “I am well aware Amara is using you to soften me up for the kill. I will expect her call.”
“She loves you,” Nick reminded her, “and misses you. She won’t mow you down and force you to come home … unless she thinks you’re in too much danger. So stay safe, okay?”
“I’m trying,” she insisted as they both rose from their chairs and Nick used their joined hands to pull her close for a warm, lingering kiss on her cheek. If he had not said outright that she was missed, his gesture of affection would have said it all.
Nick was barely out of the dining room before Liam was by her side, his hand resting protectively and possessively in the small of her back. Devon had a bad headache, tension and stress taking its toll even on her Morphate body. She didn’t show any outward sign of it, however, knowing she was under scrutiny in more ways than one. Devon wanted to go home more than anything, but she suddenly couldn’t look up at Liam and ask him to bring her there.
Despite Nick and Amara’s support and obvious love for her, she felt all alone in the world. All alone in her endeavors. She didn’t know if Liam would understand that. How could he when she’d never given him any explanations? She understood why he thought she was treating him like some ignorant soldier sometimes. He was an intelligent man and deserved explanations. His patience in waiting for honesty from her was finite and she should not test it too much longer, she knew.
She wanted to go home, but going home meant she’d have to face him in private again, and she didn’t want to argue anymore tonight. Time was growing short for her very quickly. She was burning all her last remaining friendships among Morphates into ashes. She felt scorched and dirtied by the coarse smoke left behind. She had never in a million years thought she would one day be orchestrating the possible death of a species.
How far she had come.
Or fallen.
Liam watched her escort leave, and then turned his careful attention back to Devon. He would never be certain when exactly it was that he began to sense the wrongness of her mood, but he knew with sudden certainty that she needed him. That she needed his patience and understanding, not his censure or jealous attempts to control her.
When she looked up at him, he saw a weary sadness in her eyes, and then steel as she prepared herself to deal with him. He slowly reached for her hand.
“Hey,” he greeted her gently, letting her know with just his tone that he’d no plans to attack her again.
“Hey,” she replied softly, her gaze training steadily on his as she tried to figure out what he wanted from her. Liam imagined there were a lot of people wanting things from her lately.
“I’m never going to be okay with anything I feel puts you in danger,” he whispered so only she could hear him, “but I shouldn’t have hassled you like that. I might have been overcompensating a little as I tried to prove to myself that our sexual relationship would not change our dynamic as protector and protectee.”
Devon looked away, turning her face from him, but she didn’t have the fall of her hair to hide behind, so she lifted fingers that shook just slightly to cover her mouth.
“Devon …”
“I’m very tired,” she said, clearing the quaver from her voice.
“Then let’s bring you home.” He turned his head, engaging the mic. “Okay guys, let’s wrap this up. Col, front or back?” He nodded to himself as he received Colin’s assessment on preferable exits. “Nez, you’re with me. Kell, walk the route. Tori, stand back and watch.”
Victoria and Kellen stood up and went in opposite directions. Inez crossed the floor to join them. He took Devon’s hands in his and drew her close, pulling her against his body briefly, protecting her within the comforting circle of his arm. The maître d’ brought Devon her wrap and thanked her when she signed for their tabs with a generous tip.
Devon took a deep breath, as though bracing herself for her exit, but what she was doing was trying to scent for other Morphates in the area. She was only aware of Nick’s lingering trail. It was no guarantee, however, because there might be human assassins as well, though she felt less threatened by them.
Liam’s hand rested on her waist at her back and he guided her from the restaurant.
The intruders knew very well that there were cameras covering almost every inch of the compound. That both visual and heat spectrum projections were sent back to the control room. They had watched guard rotations and movement for so long that they had finally come to understand the order in the chaos of their schedule. Whatever clever prick was in charge of these guys had trained them to never patrol the grounds or house in exactly the same way. They had been taught to change it up constantly, and yet be very thorough every single time. Sometimes they started at the security room. Sometimes they started on the top level. East wing bottom floor. West wing top floor. East wing top floor. West wing mid floor. And the exterior guards did the exact same thing. Sometimes in teams. Sometimes solo. They even had a shadow maneuver where a team split up, the first member beginning a circuit and the second waiting five minutes before following and shadowing his partner’s path and checking behind him.
The point was it was impossible to predict how much time they had or what things they might have missed despite their long wait in the woods, watching every detail as shrewdly as they could. Infrared technology and visual cameras did not faze them in the least. It was the human factor that was the wild card.
That humans could be something to fear stuck in the craw. And that was why they were there. They were going to burn Devona Candler to the ground and her weapons with her. Maybe they couldn’t erase knowledge of the effect irradiated mercury had on Morphates, and maybe this was only an act of postponing the inevitable, but striking at Devona would have a twofold effect. It would set her project back quite a few years and it would rob the humans of the genius of Devona’s intellect. Plus, it would be giving the traitorous, presumptuous bitch what she deserved for betraying her own people. Perhaps Ambrose would order them to do the same to the next and the next who thought themselves brilliant enough to create such a weapon, delaying the development for decades.
Delaying just enough to allow Morphates to move out of the shameful banishment of the Dark Cities and into positions of power all around the world. No more of this illicit bullshit, as if it were a crime to live as free as the humans did. And why couldn’t they? Because they were immortal? Because they were stronger than humans? Because of the way they made love? Because of the ferocity of their children?
The thought made Rhiannon smile ferally as she paused for a moment. She was one of those children. As was her partner in this endeavor. In her opinion there was nothing wrong with either one of them. They were even better than their Morphate parents in every way, their genetic code more refined, arranged with a finesse that only nature herself could possibly add. Their Morphate parents could never have breached the security in this house. It would be the new generation of Morphates that would save their race.
The idea made her smile as she stealthily moved into final position.
She waited, hoping a human stumbled across her, so she would be forced to silence her enemy.
Liam followed Devona up the stairs, watching her slow steps very carefully, a frown tugging his mouth. Devon never dragged herself. She worked with irrepressible energy that simply could not be subdued. Seeing her like this, so withdrawn and looking so tired, simply killed him.
“Do you mind if I ask why you were having a meeting with the preeminent Morphate in the Federated States?” he asked quietly. She stopped mid-step and turned to look at him, her soft jewel-like eyes suddenly smiling down at him.
“Of course. You used to be Secret Service. You would be very well verse
d on who Nick and Amara Gregory are.”
“I think every Joe Shmoe at the corner deli in Lightning, Kansas knows who Nick and Amara Gregory are. When you think of Morphates, generally their faces are the first you imagine. They are very public figures, fighting for Morphate rights in this country. And abroad, ever since the Traveling Act was passed. We let Morphates travel out of this country much sooner than other nations began to allow them into theirs. A lot of Morphates did what you are doing if they wanted to travel. Passed themselves off as humans.”
“I am posing as human for much more serious reasons than the right to go to the Bahamas,” she said heavily.
“Well, maybe you ought to go to the Bahamas. You certainly could use it. Push these weapons of yours onto your human developers already. Fulfill your contract and be done with it. It will take you out of the crosshairs, for the most part, and let you go back to a normal sort of life.”
“Just what is a normal sort of life?” she asked, the weariness in her voice suddenly sounding incredibly heavy. “I’ve been searching for the key to Morphate mortality for fifty years. Almost every day since the day we were liberated. There were those of us who knew instantly what absolute power was going to do to some of us. We saw the types of people, the dregs of society that Paulson was using for his test subjects. From gangsters to psychotics … it was only a matter of time before one of them needed to be put down. But how do you put down an immortal psychotic?”
“So far imprisoning has done the job.”
“Only if a Marshal Force of Morphates is engaged. Until you, no human force has ever been able to catch and retain a Morphate hell-bent on its freedom.”
Dangerous Page 23
