by Aubrey Ross
Tara’s image barreled to the surface, followed by a painful blast of information. Caresse pushed back against the sudden deluge, strangling her connection with Desmond until only a trickle passed into her mind.
Gradually a different image eroded Tara’s likeness. Caresse saw a prison, complete with barbed wire fences and guard towers. Deep within the building she sensed fear and hopelessness. They were not uncommon emotions for such a dismal place, but what did it mean? Why was this scene more important than all the others?
She concentrated on the emotions, trying to identify the source. Female faces flickered within her mind, ten, fifteen, no, twenty or more. Pale and drawn, tear-stained and miserable, they were captives, each one being held against her will.
Pulling back from the scene, Caresse looked around, examining the setting rather than the prison itself. Grassy plains stretched out into the distance but jagged mountain peaks formed a solid wall along the far horizon.
Colorado. As if to answer her unspoken question, the word echoed through her mind. Caresse wasn’t sure about the details but she sensed the importance of what she’d just seen.
Desmond jerked his arm away so suddenly her fangs tore his flesh. She gasped but he didn’t seem to notice. He growled low in his throat, eyes narrowed and bright.
For a long time he just stared at her as if he was trying to understand who she was and why he was crouched on top of her. Then he nudged her head to one side and pressed his face into the side of her neck, inhaling deeply.
“That’s right,” she murmured. “You know my scent. I’m your mate. Your beloved.”
He held her in place and breathed in her scent, tense and silent. Then his grip on her hair finally eased and he pushed up so he could look into her eyes. “I will never hurt you.” His voice still had an odd rasp and green light flickered within his dark eyes, but his features had returned to normal.
“What happened?” She tried not to sound accusatory. The last thing she wanted was an argument. “Why did you…lose control?”
“I was hungry.” He climbed off her and stood, not offering to help her up. “That Vladya bitch was stronger than you can imagine. It took a lot of energy to wipe her mind.”
“Did you intentionally wipe her mind?” She struggled up from the ground, shaken and confused. “I thought you only wanted to know about the message.”
He glared at her. “She’s the enemy. Why would you care about her fate? She was a threat and now that threat has been neutralized. And the beauty is, the attack will be blamed on Garrett, her ambitious son.”
He was right and yet this was so unlike him. The political aspirations of his mother’s strain had caused him nothing but pain and humiliation. He’d rejected his Strigo heritage and vowed to find a peaceful life away from court politics and power.
Apparently that had changed when he awakened his Strigo symbionts.
“We should get out of here,” she whispered. “Someone might have heard the screams.”
“Doubtful, but I can see you’re uncomfortable.” He strolled through the carnage, unmoved by the senseless waste. He knelt beside a young man and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “This one lives alone. His dwelling is not large but it will offer us refuge for a day or two.”
She didn’t need to ask how he knew. Apparently he’d been able to scan his victims’ minds even during his feeding frenzy. His new abilities should have been exciting, but all she felt was uncertainty and fear. By the time his metamorphosis was complete, would there be anything left of the Desmond she knew and loved?
* * * * *
Garrett clasped his hands behind his back and carefully schooled his expression. Tara generally dealt with the Vladya council directly, so his interaction with the five-member board was limited. Each member of the council had been born on Strigoia Prime. Three were part of the original rebellion which had first brought hosts to Earth over five centuries ago. Their headquarters was in Quebec City, which meant it had taken Garrett three hours at top speed to travel here as mist.
“I’m in the middle of a time-sensitive project. This had better be important.” The summons had been waiting for him when he awakened this evening. He’d been tempted to send his apologies but no one ignored a summons from the council.
“We do not bother with incidental conflicts. All of our issues are important.” Howard Duvall, self-appointed spokesman for the council, sat at the head of the conference table. Garrett stood at the foot of the table, flanked by the other four councilors. A chair had not been provided for Garrett, making it obvious they wanted him to stand.
“Well, I’m here, so what’s this about?” He made no effort to hide his impatience. Tara might be dependent upon the financial support of the council, but he had taken control of his own finances long ago.
“Can you account for your whereabouts yesterday at approximately 2:00 a.m.?”
“I was overseeing my project in Colorado. Any number of people can verify my presence there. Why do you ask?”
Duvall slid a tablet computer across the table as he said, “The guard on duty at the main gate reported your arrival in Vancouver at 2:11 a.m. The doorman confirmed this.”
“I wasn’t in Vancouver yesterday,” Garrett said with more insistence.
“You were seen going into Tara’s office shortly after your arrival. When Tara’s personal assistant went to check on her at 2:43, Tara was found in that condition.” He motioned to the computer.
A video was on screen, ready to be played. Garrett touched the screen, activating the video. Tara sat on the floor of her office, legs curled off to one side, staring blankly into space.
“Her assistant tried to awaken her, as did two healers and a physician. She is completely unresponsive.”
After sliding the computer back across the table, he looked into Duvall’s eyes. “What does this have to do with me?”
Duvall looked at the councilor on his left and then his right. Garrett felt the subtle pulse of telepathic communication. “You’re denying that you had any involvement in Tara’s degeneration?”
Garrett detected a hint of disappointment in Duvall’s voice, so he quickly took stock of the other councilors. Tension was palpable in the room, but they didn’t seem hostile. He sensed no accusation, just anticipation and curiosity.
Tara was, and had always been, a self-centered bitch. She fought with everyone who didn’t bow down and worship her. These five elders were no exception.
“The penalty for killing a highborn host is death,” Garrett reminded them. “Why would I admit to this vile deed even if I had been involved? Which, of course, I was not.”
One corner of Duvall’s mouth twitched as if he were fighting not to smile. “Tara is not dead. She has fallen into a mysterious trance. No one can predict when or if she will be functional again.”
The opening was obvious. Five pairs of eyes stared at Garrett, waiting for him to take advantage of the opportunity. “Vladya strain cannot be left without a leader. We must appoint someone before the other strains learn of this vulnerability.”
“We agree.” Howard finally gave in and smiled. “Each of us has had the opportunity to lead Vladya strain and each has preferred to remain in the shadows. You have been schooled from birth to succeed Tara as leader of Vladya strain. None of us expected the transition to take place this quickly, but we are not opposed to the change.”
“You won’t be the first to hurry along the hand of fate,” one of the other councilors said with a smirk.
Garrett squared his shoulders and smothered the question rolling through his mind. They obviously believed he’d ruthlessly wrested control of Vladya strain from Tara. Claiming innocence at this point would have been foolish.
“Tara’s focus began to flounder when Prince Alexi arrived.” The statement played into their misconceptions without actually admitting guilt. “If you approve my succession, I will do everything in my power to guide Vladya strain back onto a more productive, and more profitable, cours
e.”
“Your aspirations align nicely with ours.” Duvall rested his elbows on the table then steepled his index fingers. “However, we would like to know the details of your current project. Tara was always a cagey bitch. We’re hoping to have a more transparent relationship with you.”
Garrett hesitated. The next few minutes would establish the tone for his interaction with this board. He needed to be polite and respectful but make it clear that he would not be a figurehead. “I haven’t kept the details from you out of spite or insecurity. The project is simply too new for there to be any concrete outcomes. As you know, Tara intercepted a transmission meant for the Levari Brethren. She didn’t think much about the message until it became apparent that Rom strain had stumbled onto a similar theory. My project is building upon their hypotheses, attempting to confirm or disprove their conclusions.”
“That’s all well and good, but what—specifically—did the message explain? Which hypotheses are you testing?”
Should he give them a peek behind the curtain? They needed to believe that he was going to be more cooperative than Tara. “There is some evidence that certain human hosts can tolerate more than one symbiotic strain.”
Duvall lowered his hands to the table, clearly suspicious of the claim. “Is this still theoretical or has such a host been located?”
“Rom strain claims to have produced a multi-strain host, but I haven’t been able to verify this host’s existence. Nor have I been able to recreate their alleged success. As of right now, the possibility is only theoretical.” He reinforced his mental shields. It wasn’t an outright lie, but much was omitted. Vladya symbionts had been introduced into the bloodstream of several of the Rom captives. Unfortunately, he’d progressed to this point before only to have the two strains battle each other until the host died.
“And the Levari?” Duvall asked. “Have you discovered their location?”
He shook his head. “I honestly think the Levari died out before the message reached Earth. There has been no evidence of a Levari host for several years now.”
A short pause followed and Garrett sensed more telepathic exchanges, then Duvall asked, “Has Eloise been recovered? Do you know who kidnapped her?”
Duvall’s gaze was suddenly cold and assessing. Did the council believe Garrett had removed anyone who might have challenged his claim to Vladya strain? Unlike Tara, Eloise was well-respected and popular. He squared his shoulders and looked directly into Duvall’s eyes. “Eloise is still missing, but then Tara wasn’t trying very hard to find her.”
“Explain,” Duvall prompted.
“Tara suspected that Eloise had betrayed her, so Tara was focused on minimizing the potential danger, not finding Eloise.”
“Do you share Tara’s view?”
“I do not. Eloise has always been loyal to Vladya strain.”
“Then who do you believe kidnapped her?”
“At first I thought it was Rom retaliation, but Inatta would have required Strigo support to pull off the kidnapping. I can’t see Edrick sticking his neck out for a sometime lover.”
“What other option is there?” The tension bled out of Duvall’s posture and he relaxed back in his chair. Apparently he’d found Garrett’s answers believable.
“I think the kidnapping might have been personal rather than political. I walked in on Eloise while she was interrogating one of the Strigo survivors. The sexual tension was palpable.”
“But she was kidnapped a short time before the rescue. The survivors were still incarcerated,” one of the other councilors pointed out.
“I believe her kidnapping was arranged by the survivors. Her abduction served as a distraction and also split our forces as we attempted to intercept the rescue party. If it weren’t for Eloise’s disappearance, the survivors would not have escaped so easily.”
“Have you contacted Edrick?” Duvall rolled his chair back and stood. “Surely he has some sway over the new arrivals. Our alliance with Strigo strain has kept war at bay for nearly a century. Why would he risk so much bloodshed over a few females?”
Garrett knew it was more complicated than Duvall implied. The Rom captives were incidental. The endgame was multi-strain hosts, either initiated or born. Their potential would be enormous. “Tara had the final say and she wasn’t interested in negotiation.”
“Well, the situation has changed.” Duvall skirted the table and approached Garrett. “We do not want another war. We can’t risk exposure. Promise Edrick whatever you must, string him along for as long as you can, but we will not allow any more bloodshed over these females.”
“Understood.” Garrett kept his face from reflecting the emotions twisting through his mind. The council hadn’t seen the prince, hadn’t sensed his power. They were used to dealing with Edrick, but Edrick was no longer the most powerful Strigo host on Earth.
“Keep us informed.”
It was a dismissal but Garrett had two final questions before he left. “Where is Tara? Is there any hope that she’ll recover?”
“She is safe and if there is any change in her condition you’ll be contacted immediately.”
Left with no other option, Garrett nodded and left the council chamber. They were determined to hold on to the power they wielded. He couldn’t blame them for their paranoia. Everything had been chaotic since Prince Alexi arrived on Earth.
He exited through a side door and paused to enjoy the cool evening air. Quebec City had an old-world charm that few western cities could boast. Tara had loved it here. Grief, unexpected and unwelcome, tightened his chest. She had been a coldhearted bitch, self-serving and cruel. But she was the closest thing to a mother he’d ever known.
Determined not to be distracted by his emotions, he carefully looked around then released his corporeal body. For a moment he just drifted on the breeze, enjoying the freedom. But all too soon questions and complications inundated his mind. Should he return to Colorado or head to Vancouver? Would it do any good to contact Edrick or should he just tell the council he tried and Strigo strain shut him down? But above all, he needed to find out who had really attacked Tara. It would have taken immense strength to wipe her mind. So who had incapacitated her and what had they hoped to accomplish by taking her out of commission?
Unnerved yet motivated by the mystery, Garrett propelled himself toward Vancouver.
* * * * *
Relaxing against the gently sloped back of the bathtub, Eloise couldn’t conceal her lazy smile. Bronik had joined her for a few minutes but his personality didn’t allow him to remain inactive for long. She hadn’t objected when he climbed from the tub and wrapped a towel around his lean hips. She needed some time to sort through her thoughts and desire tended to take over whenever Bronik was around. So it was probably better if he waited for her below.
He was her mate, her sworn protector. The realization no longer filled her with shame or apprehension. She’d done what was necessary to survive. Tara had made no effort to ransom her so Eloise had taken matters into her own hands.
Even as the explanation rolled through her mind, she forced herself to be brutally honest. Circumstances might have sped her decisions but danger wasn’t entirely responsible for her attraction to Bronik. Their connection had been deep and instantaneous. It hadn’t mattered that they were enemies. She wanted him and he wanted her, with an intensity that would not be denied.
She heaved a deep sigh and rested her arms on the rim of the tub. Bronik and Alexi were likely investigating the locations she’d offered but she doubted they would find anything. And the images she’d gleaned from Garrett’s mind weren’t any more helpful. The cell could have been part of a jail, prison, rehab center or psychiatric hospital. There were simply too many possibilities.
Closing her eyes, she relaxed, allowing the water to soothe her as her mind drifted back in time. She called forth the images, determined to find something she’d missed before, some random detail or subtle clue that would point her in the right direction.
; She saw the small, bleak cubicle with its built-in furniture and exposed utilities. A blonde woman sat on the bunk, legs folded in front of her. Eloise could sense her hopelessness, her emotional desolation.
Suddenly the image shifted. The frame drew back, expanding the shot until she was outside the prison, staring at the entire structure. She didn’t understand what had caused the transition but she knew enough not to fight it. The perspective panned in a slow circle, showing her the surroundings. Expansive plains spread out from the complex and mountain peaks guarded the far horizon.
Where is this?
Colorado.
She hadn’t expected an answer so she gasped when the word pushed into her mind.
The panorama began to fade, disappearing as quickly as it had formed. Wait! Who are you? Why are you helping me?
The presence slipped from her mind and took the image with it.
Eloise sat up in the tub and wiped her hands over her face. It hadn’t been her imagination. Someone had joined with her meld, providing information she hadn’t pulled from Garrett’s mind.
She opened the drain and stepped from the tub, quickly drying off as she walked into Bronik’s bedroom. The clothes Simone had given her now hung in his closet. Eloise selected an outfit and dressed, amused that she still didn’t have any shoes. After running a comb through her hair, she went downstairs in search of Bronik.
As she expected, Bronik, Alexi and Edrick were in the library, huddled around a laptop.
Bronik looked up and smiled. “Feel better?”
“Much.” She sat beside him before she added, “I think the prison is in Colorado.”
All three men looked at her, but Alexi asked, “What makes you think that?”
“I was going over the images while I soaked and someone slipped into my mind. Suddenly I felt as if I was watching a movie rather than reliving a memory. The shot pulled back until I was outside the building, then it turned so I could see the location.”
The men exchanged doubtful glances then Edrick said, “Lots of places can look the same. What did you see?”
