Blood Laws

by Lexi C. Foss

  She forced herself to refocus on the conversation at the table. Tom was talking now about a recent mission he went on for the CRF. Something about infiltrating a camp in Asia to deliver food and water to a group of orphaned children. She could feel her mother melting into a puddle of goo beside her. Her other neighbor was busy pushing pieces of lettuce around on her plate.

  “So you require all your employees to get a clearance?” Her father wasn’t excited about her taking a polygraph this week. He kept saying, “It’s a bit invasive, don’t you think?” She did, but understood it was only a requirement because of the CRF’s contract with the United States government. When Dr. Fitzgerald said as much, her dad frowned.

  “I can understand employees who handle government information undergoing the security clearance process, but not everyone else.”

  “Trust me, if we could avoid it, we would in a heartbeat. Do you have any idea how expensive it is to run a top secret security clearance on each potential employee?” Dr. Fitzgerald rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not cheap.”

  That seemed to appease her dad a little, but he still pursed his lips.

  “We really appreciate everything you’ve done for our Stas.” Her mom jumped in, changing the subject before her father could launch into a tirade about the government’s intrusive policies. “It’s hard having her so far away, but some of my worrying is eased by knowing she has a family here.”

  “It’s been our pleasure, I assure you.” Dr. Fitzgerald winked at Stas.

  “Of course the whole thing with Owen has me a bit on edge.”

  “Oh Mom, please don’t.”

  “What? I’m concerned for your safety, Stas. Your friend was murdered.”

  Her eyes rolled heavenward. Here we go. Her mother started with questions about the safety of the city. Dr. Fitzgerald addressed some of the points while George commented on the security in Lizzie’s condo building. He was in the middle of talking about the protocols when all the hairs on her arms stood on end. She met the gaze of her demon over her father’s shoulder.

  Oh, shit.

  “Well, isn’t this a small world?” The table fell silent, all eyes on the newcomer. “Oh, my apologies, George, I didn’t mean to interrupt your diatribe.” Issac moved to stand between her and the window, his hands settling on the back of her chair. “Please, do continue.”

  Lizzie started hitting Stas’s thigh. She assumed the repetitive taping was Lizzie-code for Oh. My. God. Her mother was having trouble composing herself and Lillian was blushing. The latter was an accomplishment, considering the pound of makeup the woman was wearing.

  “Wakefield.” Tom’s shoulders were rigid. “Can we help you with something?”

  “Oh …” His warm hand slid to her shoulder, making her shudder. “I’ve been helping myself just fine lately, but thank you, Thomas. I apologize for interrupting, I only wanted to congratulate Astasiya on her graduation this morning.”

  Dr. Fitzgerald raised an eyebrow. “You two are acquainted?”

  She was wondering the same thing, but about Tom and Issac. Maybe there was a “Hottest Bachelors of New York” club they both attended. Her lips twitched at the thought.

  “We met through a mutual acquaintance. Owen Angelton. You’ve no doubt heard of him, yes?” He brushed the pulse in her neck with his thumb in a proprietary move that sent ripples through her lower abdomen.

  Dr. Fitzgerald steepled his long fingers on the table, his posture relaxed. “Yes, we were just discussing that. He was supposed to be your date tonight, right, Stas?”

  Thanks for the reminder. She cleared her throat. “Uh yeah, he wanted to meet everyone.”

  Her mother frowned at her. “I thought Owen was gay?” Subtlety was not one of Susan Davenport’s strengths.

  “He was, but he was going to be my friend date for dinner tonight.” She shook the cobwebs from her brain and tilted her head backwards. She belatedly realized that the position exposed the cleavage of her dress, something her demon was enjoying if the amusement in his blue eyes was anything to go by. “Thank you for the congratulations, Issac.” She used his first name on purpose and found she enjoyed saying it out loud.

  His responding grin was beautiful, sending her pulse skittering through the roof. A man should not possess such a smile. It could be dangerous to women with certain heart conditions. “Of course, darling.” His hand was like a brand on her shoulder as he focused on her parents. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting. I’m Issac Wakefield.”

  “Uh, these are my parents. Susan and Henry.” Her mother looked ready to faint under the directness of Issac’s gaze. Her father, however, looked like he was missing the guns he kept at home. Great. They were making assumptions about their relationship.

  “A pleasure,” Issac murmured. “Do you mind if I steal your gorgeous daughter for a moment?”

  Her eyes narrowed up at him. Now they were really going to jump to conclusions. What game was he playing?

  “No, please.” Her mom was bouncing with enthusiasm while her father’s lips flattened in disapproval. A handsome billionaire walking in with a date before requesting the company of another woman wasn’t exactly boyfriend of the year material.

  It wasn’t that Susan Davenport was vain in any way, she was just excited by the prospect that her daughter might date someone. Her boyfriend history could be counted on one hand. Not for a lack of trying by the male population, she just didn’t date. School was always more important.

  “Astasiya?” The hand on her shoulder lifted palm up, a gesture for her to stand.

  “Excuse me.” It wasn’t like she had much choice. She allowed him to help her up then took back her hand to push in the chair.

  “Gentlemen,” his gaze fell to the Fitzgeralds and touched briefly on George, “always a pleasure.”

  The hand he placed at the small of her back burned through the satin of her dress. She would have a lot of explaining to do when she got back to the table. The least of which would be explaining to Lizzie how she knew the infamous Issac Wakefield. Her leg had taken a steady beating from her best friend’s hand the entire time Issac was behind her. The “Oh, My, God” code had changed when Issac announced their acquaintance. Every smack was a new question.

  Issac escorted her into a dark corner near the elevators as soon as they entered the reception area. She turned right before the wall and put her hands on his muscular chest when he would have advanced one step closer. “They’re going to think we’re dating.” The memory of her father’s gaze on her shoulder made her cringe. “Why did you do that?”

  Warm fingers wrapped around her wrists. “I decided what I want as payment.”

  Her eyebrows met her hairline. “And you had to tell me that now?”

  “You look beautiful in this dress, darling.” The accented endearment had her hackles rising.

  “Yeah? Your date looks beautiful in her dress too, Issac.”

  She took a step back into the wall as he advanced on her. The hands on her wrists kept her from pushing him back as he crowded her personal space. Sandalwood mingled with bourbon, tantalizing her. He consumed her as he cut off her view to the restaurant lobby, forcing her to focus on him. His essence surrounded her, filling her with a deep-seated need that endangered her sanity. Down girl.

  “Clara is not my date, darling.” His deep tenor was evocative of endearments murmured between the sheets. “When did you figure out my identity?”

  “This morning.”

  “How?”

  “Apparently you’re one of New York’s hottest bachelors.” Her face warmed. It was such a girly way to figure it out. “Lizzie likes society magazines.”

  His chuckle touched her in places that were inappropriate for a restaurant lobby. She squeezed her legs in protest, refusing to acknowledge the sensations building inside her. “Not at all how I expected, but I’ll take it. Surprised?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, I like that about you. Which brings me to what I wa
nt, assuming you still wish to deal with me.”

  She was having a hard time thinking with him crowding her personal space. She licked her lips while pondering his words. A deal. Payment for information. Right. “What do you want?”

  “I want you.”

  The image of him stripping off her clothes and taking her up against the wall flashed behind her eyes, making her knees go weak. That couldn’t be what he meant. She was sure he didn’t need to bargain for sex. His not-a-date Clara in the other room was proof of that. “I’m not following.”

  “Hmm, how to phrase it.” He let go of her wrists to place one palm against her cheek and the other against the wall beside her hip. Her arms fell limp to her sides. “I want certain individuals to believe we’re dating and for that to work, I need you to agree.”

  “Why?”

  “Maybe I like you.”

  Her desire-infused brain quieted just long enough for her logic to shine through. “Or maybe you have an ulterior motive.”

  “Maybe it’s both.” The hand beside her hip lifted as he relaxed his forearm against the wall beside her head. His forehead dropped to rest against hers. She really hoped he was doing that invisibility trick right now because she didn’t have the willpower to push him away. She looked up into predatory eyes that glowed with arousal.

  “What do you say, darling? Do we have a deal?”

  “If I say yes, will you tell me what I am?”

  His gaze dropped to her lips. “I will after our first date.”

  “And what are you getting out of this?” Because it seemed like a one sided arrangement.

  “Ah, that’s for me to know, darling.” His palm slid from her cheek to the back of her neck where he started to massage her into a state of oblivion. “Now, do we have a deal?”

  If she wanted to know who she was, she had no other choice, because no one else would give her the information. At least what he was requesting was pleasant, even if it made no sense. She could play along for a little while and learn more about herself in the process. Issac was the first one she met from the world that murdered her family. This was the closest she had ever come to getting answers. He could help her understand her past and help hide her persuasive talents. Her parents never got around to teaching her about her unnatural gifts or their strange way of life. They were taken from her too soon and her adoptive parents knew nothing about her past.

  Besides, there were worse things than dating Issac Wakefield. She just had to make sure her heart remembered it was all a charade. She could do that. Love was never in the cards for her anyway.

  “Okay.” She licked her lips. “Dating for information. Deal.”

  “Brilliant.” His fingers knotted in her hair. “Just one more thing.” He closed the gap between them and angled her face upwards for a kiss.

  She melted into his embrace, her thoughts fracturing under his sensual assault. He took her slow at first, thoroughly introducing her to his preferences and skill before emboldening the kiss. Each stroke was a mixture of warning and promise, telling her just what to expect from him beneath rumpled sheets. He was a man who would take what he wanted, when he wanted it, and right now he was taking her.

  She lost track of time, unsure of whether seconds had gone by or minutes or maybe hours. She was too caught up in his touch to care. He felt warm and hard against her. A muscular wall pillowed by her subtle curves. Her arms went around his neck and her fingers locked in his dark luscious strands. She didn’t care how wrong this was; she wanted more.

  Peppermint and bourbon mingled with red wine as she parted her lips to accept him, only to inhale air. His hands still in her hair, his mouth only a breath away from hers, he sighed. “Thomas.”

  She blinked. Thomas?

  “I’m only going to say this once.” Issac’s broad shoulders blocked her view of what sounded like a furious Tom. “Release her.”

  Heated blue eyes met her aroused green. She wasn’t the only one annoyed by the interruption. He brushed his mouth against her temple and then her ear. “Consider our deal sealed.”

  He moved to her side, his arm slipping around her back. “Is there a problem, Thomas?”

  Oh, Thomas is Tom. Her demon seemed to have an issue with nicknames. He never called her Stas, something that should have irked her, but she liked the way her full name rolled over his tongue. It made her feel exotic and cherished. He could call her Astasiya all night long, preferably in bed.

  “Go back to the table, Stas.” The command in Tom’s tone startled her. In the six years she’d known him, he always played the role of gentle older brother. Never the military officer. He reserved that tone for work. Until today.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Now, Stas.”

  It went against every instinct to obey him. Part of her understood he was playing the part of older brother. Issac Wakefield might be an ideal candidate to a socialite mother, but no man in his right mind would like the idea of his kid sister dating a notorious billionaire playboy. He was taking his role of protector a little too far in this case, though. She could protect herself.

  She was about to say as much when Issac bent to nibble on the pulse point of her neck. The look Tom gave him in response screamed murderous intent. What the fuck was wrong with him?

  “It’s all right, darling,” Issac murmured against her throat. “We’ll catch up more properly later.”

  “Like hell you will.”

  She gaped at her friend, mortified and at a complete loss of what to say.

  “You can stand down now, Sentinel,” Issac said as he walked away. “I’ll see you soon, Astasiya.”

  Tom looked ready to follow the demon and punch him. She hit his arm. Hard. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She resisted the urge to wave her hand around as her fingers tingled. Her father taught her how to throw a punch as a kid. His training did not prepare her for hitting the brick wall that was Tom’s bicep. The man was built like a fucking house. She was pretty sure her hand hurt more than his damn arm.

  His pupils were so dilated his eyes almost looked black when he glanced down at her. “He’s not who you think he is.”

  She couldn’t really argue with that. “Maybe.”

  “No maybe about it. He’s bad news.” He faced her. “You can’t date him.”

  “I’m not having this conversation with you.” His intentions might be in the right place, but he had no right to butt into her private life.

  “Yes, you are. Tell me you won’t date him.”

  “I’m not going to do that.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

  “I’m just looking out for you.”

  She understood that, but she could look out for herself. “How do you know him?”

  He hesitated. “Through work.”

  “Wakefield Pharmaceuticals donates drugs to the CRF?”

  He snorted. “Hell no. He’s not a good person, Stas. Which is why you need to stay away from him.”

  Back on that subject again. “I make my own decisions, Tom.”He folded his arms, his expression dubious. “Well, you’re making a bad one.”

  “I’m not talking to you about this anymore.” She headed back into the dining room with Tom right behind her. It was her life. If Owen were still alive, she wouldn’t even talk to him about it. Of course, he knew her well enough not to even ask.

  Issac raised a glass to her as she walked by. Cheers, darling.

  Yeah. Cheers. She was going to need something stronger than wine to get through the rest of the night.

  *

  “You’re toying with an innocent girl’s life.” Aidan said as he sipped his expensive brandy with an elegance only acquired by time.

  “Perhaps.” Issac watched Astasiya reclaim her seat at the table. That blue dress of hers clung to every curve and revealed a pair of legs that were designed to be wrapped around a man’s waist. Kissing her was second nature to him. She was blonde, gorgeous and strong willed.
All characteristics he admired in a woman. Their mutual acquaintances and her fledgling status were unfortunate deterrents to an otherwise ideal situation.

  “He does appear surprised by our acquaintance, yes?” He asked, returning to the conversation at hand.

  “It’s genuine.” Clara’s perceptive blue eyes were on their former ally. Her knack for sensing emotions was exactly why he invited her to tag along tonight. “The whole table is shocked.” Which meant Jonathan hadn’t sent Astasiya to meet him that fateful morning at Owen’s apartment. He suspected that was the case, but he still required the confirmation. Now that he had it, his plan could move forward.

  “She’s your type.” Anya’s perfect lips tilted upwards in a taunting smile. Flirtation was second nature to her, as was evidenced by the revealing dress she wore, displaying all her ample assets. The dark beauty held nothing back. Aidan was a lucky man. “We all know how you feel about natural blondes.”

  “Except this one seems conflicted.” Clara frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman react to you like this, Issac. It’s quite phenomenal, really.”

  He started. “I thought you couldn’t sense her?” From what he had surmised, Astasiya was impervious to supernatural gifts.

  “Well, no, I can’t, but this one doesn’t stare at you in adoration like all the others.”

  He followed her gaze to the blonde in question and grinned to himself. This woman had spirit. One of her many positive traits. The elder Fitzgerald caught him looking and frowned. He was curious about their presumed relationship. Good. His secondary goal for the evening was accomplished then.

  Aidan cocked his head to the side. “She might be useful, Issac.”

  “Yes.” In more ways than just the bedroom, it seemed. She was just what he needed to teach Jonathan a lesson he would not soon forget.