Onset of Danger

by Aubrey Ross

  “Is this good news or bad?”

  “Probably bad, but let’s focus on one thing at a time.”

  “All right.” She took a deep breath then released it with a sigh. “I’m helping with the investigation because experimenting on anyone is wrong, not because I feel obligated to you.”

  His brows arched at the claim and he glanced away from her face. “If you honestly feel that way, why were you so reluctant to help me before?”

  The question didn’t surprise her, yet it was inaccurate. “If you care to remember, I couldn’t find out what the project was all about. I knew they were up to something but you told me why the captives are so important.”

  “You’re right. That wasn’t fair.”

  His gaze returned to her face and Eloise reinforced her determination to clarify her position. She would not be a slave to desire, not even her own. “Our arrangement must be kept separate from the rest of my life. I offered you my body, not my mind.”

  He chuckled, unfazed by her insistence. “I don’t care where you spend your days as long as your nights are spent with me.”

  “Very funny.” Her days were spent in a motionless trance. His offer was no compromise. “You might command me in the bedroom but my life is mine the rest of the time.”

  “If I’d wanted a mindless slave we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d be naked and on your knees with my cock in your mouth.” He pivoted toward her, green fire sparking in the depths of his dark eyes. “I don’t want a mind-slave. I thought I’d made that clear. It’s not just your soft body that attracts me. I enjoy being challenged both physically and mentally. You’re strong and stubborn, sassy and bold. I have no desire to break your spirit.”

  It was possible that he was just telling her what she needed to hear, but she sensed no deceit in him, no hidden agenda. Though muted, emotions flowed across their link, distinct enough to be deciphered. At the heart of his possessive passion rested genuine affection. His dominant nature required him to control their pleasure, but he didn’t want to control her.

  She accepted the compromise and decided to see where it led them. Running from him had certainly proved pointless.

  “Let’s see if we can find the captives.” Focusing on an outward goal would be a welcome change. “What do you need me to do?”

  A pleased smile parted his lips as he pulled her onto his lap and wrapped her legs around his hips. Their faces were on a level now and she rested her hands on his shoulders. For a breathless moment reality paused and nothing existed but the warmth of his gaze and the desire pulsing across their link. She wasn’t sure where the longing began but it soon flowed freely in both directions.

  Slowly leaning in, he brought his mouth toward hers. She turned her head and his lips brushed her cheek. “I thought this was important,” she said softly.

  “It is.” He straightened, his hands settling on her hips.

  He was her sworn protector, not her lover. Theirs was more of a business alliance than an affair. If she allowed herself to care for him she was making herself vulnerable. And she was still reeling from Tara’s violent rejection.

  “Close your eyes and picture Garrett. Don’t let me distract you.”

  Her lids drifted shut and she summoned Garrett’s image, saw his messy blond hair and bright-blue eyes. Her link with Bronik vibrated as his energy flowed into her mind. Bold and vibrant, his presence never failed to amaze her. Even Tara paled by comparison.

  He encircled Garrett’s image, creating contrast and details that hadn’t been there a moment before. Strigo hosts were masters of mind control. This was second nature for him.

  Now set him in motion. Bring him to life.

  Even though she’d grown up at Garrett’s side he was still a mystery in many ways. He would disappear for nights, sometimes weeks, with no warning or explanation. She knew he loved to hunt, chose to chase down his meals far more often than he summoned the household feeders. So she pictured an alley adjacent to a dark side street. She placed Garrett’s image in the shadows, waiting, watching for the perfect prey. A lone woman passed, her collar raised against the evening chill. She hurried along and Garrett fell in step behind her. He matched his footfalls to hers, stalking her, letting anticipation build.

  Tingling awareness trickled through the image, familiar yet distinct. Eloise sensed Garrett’s energy, not the likeness she was creating but his actual being. She threaded through the tendrils, memorizing their cadence and meticulously matching her pulses to his. She followed the rhythm, allowed the steady beat to guide her. The rhythm grew steadily stronger until it echoed through her being like a massive drum.

  An outline formed, a shadowy figure against a field of black. She tried to penetrate the darkness, to make out elements of the setting, anything that would give her some idea of his location. His rhythm dimmed as she shifted her focus so she quickly returned all her efforts toward matching her pattern to his.

  I will shield you. Sink deeper into the meld.

  A moment of doubt flashed through her mind. She’d never done anything like this before. What would happen if Garrett sensed her? Could he trap her being inside his mind or would he simply force her out?

  He won’t sense you. I will protect you.

  She let Bronik’s assurance ease her anxiety and focused on the pulse of Garrett’s energy. Lives were on the line. She needed to make this work. Relaxing into the rhythm, she allowed Garrett’s current to draw her deeper.

  His emotions reached her first. Consuming ambition and ruthless hunger overshadowed a malignant core of bitterness. Much to her surprise, the hatred seemed to be equally divided between Tara and Strigo strain. She understood why he resented the rival strain, but why did he hate Tara?

  Refusing to be distracted by the discovery, she eased deeper into his mind. She heard the distorted drone of conversation and a rumbling laugh. Light flickered in the distance and she flowed toward the sight, willing it to reveal something useful.

  “Was it necessary to smash the camera?” Garrett sounded annoyed rather than angry and a sliver of amusement rippled through the meld.

  “There’s no way she’ll open up with you watching.”

  Jackson! Eloise had heard the second voice often enough to recognize the smug tone, but when had Garrett acquired Tara’s fuck toy?

  “And did she open up? Are we on to phase two already?”

  Light slowly dimmed and shapes appeared against the glare. Garrett was looking at Jackson, assessing him with a critical eye. She knew what Jackson looked like. She needed to see their surroundings!

  Don’t force it. Just go with the flow.

  Eloise tried to relax but it was easier said than done. Looking at Jackson always made her shudder and seethe. He was despicable, loathsome, even worse than Garrett and that was saying a lot.

  Jackson shrugged and ran his hand through his thick dark hair. “I was only in there for an hour. Even I can’t work that fast. It might take several days. Do you want me to start on one of the others as well? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve serviced more than one.”

  He was obviously boasting about a sexual conquest, but where was he? This might not have anything to do with the Rom captives.

  Garrett turned and slipped onto a chair facing an elaborate control panel. “Display cell D-14.” The screen in front of him flickered briefly then changed from a corridor shot to a small windowless room with minimal furniture. With its metal bunk and sink-toilet combo, it looked like a prison cell. What the hell was Garrett doing in a prison?

  Awareness jarred Eloise. Garrett had sensed her intrusion! She released her hold on his mind and let Bronik draw her out. They soared back across the ink-black void and she emerged from the trance with a gasp.

  “Did you see that?” She rubbed her eyes with one hand and pressed the other over her pounding heart.

  Bronik shook his head. “I focused entirely on shielding you. What did you see?”

  “Garrett was using a surveillance system
to check on one of the captives. At least, I presume it was one of the captives. She was in a prison cell.”

  He was silent for a long moment, clearly lost in thought. “Is it possible that Tara has taken control of a human prison?”

  “She would have to control all the guards and other employees. It would be impossible to replace them all with hosts, but… What about visitors?” She shook her head. “There are too many risks just to secure a hiding place for the captives. I must have misunderstood what I saw. It could have been the secure ward in a hospital or rehab center.”

  “That’s a possibility, but the risk of exposure still seems unacceptably high.”

  “Jackson was with him and it sounded as if he’d been trying to seduce one of the captives. He smashed one of the cameras hoping the female would ‘open up’ to him.”

  “Oh shit. Is Jackson AB positive?”

  “I have no idea but I can’t think of any other reason Garrett would recruit him. Garrett has always thought Jackson is an opportunistic whore.”

  “Who fits the bill better than a skilled pleasure giver when one is looking to seduce a reluctant female?”

  “We have got to find those captives. The last thing this world needs is for Jackson to reproduce.”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Bronik smiled. “We have another piece of the puzzle. That’s more than we had an hour ago.” He lifted her off his lap and set her on her feet then stood as well. “At the risk of insulting our hostess, I think we should go home.”

  She splayed her fingers against his bare chest and mirrored his smile. “I think Caitlyn will understand.”

  “Good.” Bronik wrapped his arms around her and flashed them back to New York.

  * * * * *

  Caresse knelt in the grass at Desmond’s feet, shaken and terrified. He had dragged her across the night sky, their smooth incorporeal progress interrupted by sudden, jarring spurts of teleportation. His Strigo powers were building like a hurricane. He seemed unconcerned with the random bursts of uncontrolled power, but she was frightened that they would tear him apart.

  “Are you coming with me or staying here?” His clipped tone made it obvious he didn’t care which alternative she chose.

  She looked at the large house silhouetted in the distance. Even without much detail, the structure was imposing. It was known as the château, the headquarters from which Tara Kovac commanded Vladya strain.

  “Why are we here?” She pushed to her feet and smoothed her hair back from her face. She was probably wasting her breath, but she had to try one last time to make him see reason. “The house is well-guarded and there is an even larger force in the valley beyond. This is suicide.”

  “Do you really think I’m that foolish?” He squared his shoulders and looked toward the château, a knowing smile curving his lips. “I would be apprehended before I ever stepped foot on the property. Garrett, however, will walk past guards without question.”

  She watched in stunned awe as transformation rippled across his body. He grew taller and leaner. The tapering of his torso became more dramatic. Desmond’s hair lightened and curled, his cheekbones became more pronounced, his jawline grew firmer. In less than a second his true shape was replaced by Garrett’s perfect likeness. He’d used Garrett’s shape once before, when he’d assisted with Eloise’s kidnapping. The Levari Brethren had provided Desmond with a sample of Garrett’s DNA and once scanned into memory, any shape could be accessed by Desmond again and again.

  “Pretending I’ve apprehended you will give Garrett a reason for returning, but I’ll not have you second-guessing every move I make.”

  She lowered her gaze, unsure how to act with this new Desmond. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. I’m sorry.”

  His cold, assessing gaze swept her from head to foot then he grasped the shoulder seam of her blouse and ripped it nearly apart. “Lose the jeans. There’s no way Garrett would bring you to Tara until he’d fucked you at least once.”

  The observation made her feel empty and cold. Was rape and degradation always to be her lot? She unzipped her jeans and wiggled out of them, not letting the darkness overtake her completely. She wasn’t sure what Desmond hoped to accomplish by this visit but she wasn’t going to argue with him. Her blouse was just long enough to cover her crotch if she kept her arms down, which wasn’t easy with Desmond yanking on them.

  He flashed them closer to the compound then dragged her toward the main gate. A guard stepped out of the control booth, confusion clear in his expression. “Why are you on foot? Mr. Mansfield?”

  Desmond snickered and pulled her in front of him as he boldly cupped her breast. “She’s a wild one.” He pinched her nipple hard as if to remind her that she wasn’t playing her part very well. She cried out and twisted, stomping on his foot and smacking his chest with the back of her head. “I wasn’t taking any chances. The vehicle will still be there when I’ve finished taming her.”

  “If you need an extra pair of hands, I’d be happy to oblige.” The guard’s gaze zeroed in on her exposed sex with obvious hunger.

  “You’re both cowards!” She kicked out at the guard, which only gave him a better view of her pussy. “The only way you can have a woman is to take one by force.” Desmond grasped the back of her hair and twisted hard. Stars danced before her eyes and she whimpered.

  “Enough! You will be respectful or your punishment will be severe.” He turned toward the gate with obvious expectation.

  The guard returned to his post and activated the gate.

  Desmond walked her toward the front door as if they had every right to be there. No one else questioned them and the door was opened by a uniformed doorman as they reached the front entrance.

  “General Kovac is waiting in her office,” the doorman told them.

  Desmond only nodded and dragged his struggling companion down the main corridor. “You’re making me so damn hot,” he whispered in her ear. “Maybe I’ll fuck you in front of Tara to make sure she believes.”

  Equal parts dark titillation and dread made her feel antsy. He’d been harsh and cruel since they left the Levari safe house. Was it just his struggle for control or were his Strigo symbionts changing his personality?

  Tara stepped into the hallway, impatience gleaming in her eyes. “What are you doing here? My orders were specific.”

  “I have a present for you.” He reached down and cupped Caresse’s sex, middle finger sinking between her folds.

  “Looks like you’ve been enjoying my ‘present’. I’m not sure I want it now.”

  “Oh you want it. Trust me.” He shoved Caresse into Tara’s office and waited until Tara closed the door before he went on. “This is one of the Levari hosts who kidnapped Eloise.”

  Tara tensed but her features only reflected irritation. “Eloise is dead, so her kidnapping is irrelevant.”

  “They snatched your daughter right out from under your nose. Aren’t you curious how they did it?”

  “Mildly.” She looked at Caresse directly for the first time. “How did you do it?”

  “Turn on the privacy shield,” Desmond insisted. “This is for your ears only.”

  With an impatient huff, Tara reached across her desk and swiped a control recessed in the desktop. “Get on with it. I have things to do and you have a project to oversee.”

  Desmond released Caresse and crossed to Tara. “It’s quite simple really.” He reached into his pocket as he released the shift and laughed at her startled expression. “I’m a shape changer.” Taking full advantage of her shock, he jabbed a needle into the side of her neck and injected her with the Levari serum.

  She screamed and slapped the syringe out of his hand, tearing her flesh in the process. “What the fuck was that?” Not waiting for his answer, she lunged for the desk, but he jerked her back and forced her to her knees. With an exasperated cry, she tried to dissolve into mist. Her body contorted, thinning and dimming for only a moment before it solidified again. “What did you… What is wro
ng with me?” She clawed his calves, shredding his pant legs as she twisted and hissed, desperately trying to free herself from his grasp.

  Desmond grabbed her hair with one hand and skewered her throat with the other, fingernails instantaneously transforming into long, sharp claws. “What was contained in the message you intercepted from Strigoia Prime?”

  She glared at him with mutinous rage yet held perfectly still. “What was in that syringe?”

  “A gift from the Levari Brethren. Now speak truthfully and I might let you live.”

  Caresse watched the struggle with cautious fascination. Tara was rumored to be the oldest and most powerful host on Earth. And yet Desmond had her on her knees. The realization sent excitement coursing through Caresse. Perhaps his aspirations weren’t as misguided as she’d first thought.

  Tara’s only reply was her renewed struggle. She grabbed his wrist with both hands and tried to pull his claw out of her neck.

  “Your strength is fading fast,” he taunted. “Soon you’ll be helpless. Why prolong this?”

  Blood trickled down her neck, but a twist of his wrist would turn the trickle into a torrent. Even so, she sneered, “Fuck you!”

  “Really not interested.” He tightened the hand in her hair until tears leaked from her eyes. “Last chance. Tell me what I want to know or I’ll go searching and I’m not very good at it yet.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He scoffed, savage cruelty twisting his features. “Wrong answer.”

  She screamed.

  He laughed.

  She screamed even louder.

  Caresse looked at the door and then the wide windows. Would the privacy shield block out all this?

  Desmond pressed his forehead against Tara’s and slowly withdrew his claws. The slashes closed, leaving four streaks of blood trailing down her neck. He shoved her away. She rocked back onto her ass, legs curved awkwardly to one side. She stared into space, expressionless, utterly blank.

  “What did you do?” Caresse whispered. Was this temporary shock or a permanent stupor?