“All it takes to get you to have something close to normal social interactions is to get you shit-faced?”
Bill grinned. “Yeah, ain’t it grand?”
Galiena stood and wrung her hands together in a nervous manner. “I should go. I’ve been in one spot too long. Thor warned me that it’s not safe.”
Thor?
Bane gasped, remembering at once that a PSI agent had told him Lance was going by the name Thor now. He’d not been mistaken. He’d seen Lance with Galiena. Something was wrong. Really fucking wrong.
As Galiena made a move to go, Bane reached out and caught hold of her arm. He had to strain to keep from using too much pressure. His hand went all the way around her upper arm. She was far too thin.
“Galiena, no. Stay. Please.”
Looking up through hooded lashes, she shook her head, sighing. “I can’t. It’s not safe for you to be around me.”
“It’s not safe for anyone to try to lay one fucking finger on you again! I will tear them apart. I will rip them into so many pieces that no one will be able to figure out what is what. I will break them!” he shouted with so much force he caused the glasses on the table to shake. His lips compressed into a thin line and he had to be mindful not to let his temper free any more than it already was. If he did, he’d more than likely rip the club to shreds.
Bill leaned back in his chair, pulling one of his women onto his lap. “A real charmer there.”
“Asshole,” snapped Bane in Bill’s direction.
“Monkey! Poo-flinger! Bad-milk drinker!” returned Bill, putting his thumbs in his ears and then waving his fingers at Bane in a dramatic fashion. The wiry-haired man looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and Bane had half a mind to send him to his room for a time out.
Galiena tugged to get her arm free from Bane’s grasp. “I have to go now. I need to feed. It can’t wait any longer. If I don’t handle it, and soon, someone else will be hurt because of me.”
Confused, Bane glanced from her to the nearly untouched food on the table. His gaze moved back to Galiena—and the knowledge that she required more than actual food hit him hard. Whatever she was, she needed more than he was currently offering, and that was unacceptable to him. She was his responsibility. His to care for. His to protect.
His.
He bent as far as he could comfortably bend and looked her in the eyes. “You’re not talking about food, are you?”
“No,” she said, glancing away.
“Blood?” he asked, wondering if maybe she was a vampire or something similar. He hadn’t smelled vampire coming from her, but then again, he couldn’t smell anything over the vanilla and jasmine scent that seemed to radiate from her. It was making him crazy with need.
She paused, her shoulders slouching. “I don’t know. Maybe. It’s different than it used to be.”
“What is?” he asked, desperate to help her. He realized at that moment that while he’d only just met her, he’d give all he had, including his life, to see to her needs.
“The hunger,” she whispered, her hands finding his. “I feed on sex, but the hunger doesn’t stop now. I hurt people. I kill people when I touch them.”
His brow crinkled as he tried to make sense of her words and his emotions. They were warring, and if he didn’t get his shit together soon, he worried something bad would happen. “We’re touching, and I’m not dead.”
Bill leaned around Galiena’s chair and stared up at Bane. He shook his head and then touched his temple as if he was getting a headache from it all. “I’m guessing you ain’t the brains of many operations, are you?”
Bane growled and Bill wisely moved out of his line of sight, but not before giving him the finger once more.
Galiena sobbed softly, and each tear she shed broke something deep within Bane. “I don’t know why I haven’t hurt you. I’m terrified I will. I can feel my darkness rising. Its hungry and it needs sex. I haven’t had full intercourse in weeks, if my count is right. That’s too long to go between for my kind. And with what they did to me…the testing, the injections, I just don’t know what will happen.”
Testing? Injections?
Bane heard nothing more beyond that. Someone had hurt her. That someone would die. He’d hunt them with his dying breath and he’d see to it their end was slow and excruciatingly painful. They’d beg for mercy that he’d never grant. He’d make them suffer. Make them regret the day they ever touched his woman.
My woman?
He swayed and thought for a split second that he’d go down.
Bill cupped a hand to his mouth and shouted, “Timber!”
Galiena’s eyes widened. “Bane?”
He blinked several times, coming to his senses slowly. “You’re saying you need sex?”
She nodded, her eyes wide. “Now. It can’t wait. I have to find someone to complete the act with. Someone I won’t turn into a pile of dust.”
The very idea that she’d seek out another man to fill her needs set him on edge. The alpha in him wouldn’t hear of it.
He grabbed her around the waist, lifted her and captured her mouth with his.
Her legs wrapped around his waist and she returned his kiss, taking it to the next level.
He carried her toward the back of the bar, their lips never leaving one another. He kept going, carrying her into the men’s restroom. Twisting, he put her back against the door, pinning her and the door in place as he continued to kiss her.
Chapter Nine
“I’ve got eyes on the succubus,” said one of Helmuth’s guards over the phone line. “She’s at a pop-up sex club run by some nymphs. It’s near the edge of the city, but it’s still within your territory. Place used to be a biker bar, but it closed up shop a few months back. Look like the nymphs seized the moment.”
“You’re sure it’s Galiena?” asked Helmuth into his cell phone, his gaze locked on a group of young women walking near his parked vehicle. His lip curled at the sight of them, each trying desperately to look older and sexier than they were. He had never been attracted to that type of woman. While Galiena was technically a whore, she only bedded so many men because of what she was—a succubus. He understood as much. And she was a cut above other women. Classy, smart, sexy without trying to be overtly so.
His cock hinted at life by merely thinking of her. It had always been that way with her. She was the one woman who could excite him enough sexually, without using her powers, to make his cock respond—even if just a bit. He’d bedded hundreds of succubi in his life, and all had served to get him off, but none called to him on a level he couldn’t explain.
Galiena did—and she’d been the only one to refuse to bed him.
Even in her darkest hours, held within the lowest level of one of his mansions, she’d not broken. She’d refused him.
He clenched and then unclenched his fist and his nails lengthened at once, looking like daggers. He had to focus to prevent himself from shifting forms fully, into what he’d been born as long ago—something most within the supernatural community thought were only legends and myths. Something that, without the serum he’d created decades ago, would force him to return to stone during daylight hours.
A gargoyle.
He had always hated the name for his kind. And he never permitted the word to be uttered in his presence. Very few even knew of his ties to gargoyles. That his father had been one, and his mother had been a poor, unsuspecting victim. Taken, used and held until she’d birthed a child. As a witch, she’d had the power to override mating laws of nature to some degree. But not fully. From what he’d been told, she’d paid the price with her life upon his birth.
He had arrived into this world a killer. Killing his own mother. And he’d been raised by monsters. When it became clear he was not as they were, not fully of their kind, not fully human or witch either, they had discarded him and left him for dead.
But he’d survived.
He always did.
He’d made a name for himself in Seat
tle and he’d done so without letting on to what he was. People feared him for his money, power, and ruthlessness. They didn’t fear him because he was an actual monster.
His fingers hardened and he shook, needing to take a breath to get them to return to human form. If he didn’t find Galiena, and soon, he feared that no amount of serum in the world would prevent what was happening to him.
His body, after all this time, was trying to convert over to what his father was. But he knew what had become of his father for his treachery.
For forcing a witch to birth him a son, his father had been cursed into gargoyle form fully, unable to return to human. Rumors had reached him that his father had been turned to stone and left on the roof of a building in France, but Helmuth had never investigated further. He didn’t care. His only worry was that he was showing the same signs of maddening that his father had with the added insult of turning to stone. Rumor also said that mental illness ran deep within his father’s bloodline.
He sighed.
His cock had stopped working long ago without the aid of a succubus’s powers and prowess. And Helmuth had developed a sensitivity to sunlight. Most assumed he was part vampire, and that was fine by him. Over the years, he’d used his underground fight clubs to harvest DNA samples from various supernaturals, always pulling from the most powerful, in hopes he could perfect something that would halt his progression into a monster.
Fucking walking and breathing reptiles with wings. That was how he saw his father’s clan of gargoyles.
Thirty or so years ago he’d captured a shark-shifter and had discovered a serum formulated from the shifter’s DNA had helped stave off some of Helmuth’s issues. He’d been able to have sex with ease for a few months. Sex always helped. It gave him more control over his shifts. More control over the beast within. But the shark-shifter injections had stopped working.
Now, he was desperate for what Jinx had been giving him—small tastes of her power. Sure, she’d only done so because he’d tricked her into thinking he had feelings for her, and then he’d threatened her and her employees. It didn’t matter. He’d gotten what he’d needed. But she’d gone and gotten herself mated, before clearing out her brothel and leaving the area.
He thought of hunting her down, but she was now mated to the man who was in charge of the Immortal Ops team. Seeking out Jinx would be a direct challenge to them, and he wasn’t in a position just yet to take them on fully.
Soon he would be.
Galiena would eventually see that he was her only hope for survival. That he was the only one who could love her for what she was now—more than simply a succubus.
A cold, calculated smile slid over his face as he thought about what he’d had Krauss do to her. He’d demanded the scientist come up with injections that held multiple other succubi DNA, as well as trace amounts of vampire, feline-shifter, and a small portion of his DNA as well. He hoped it would make Galiena mate material for him. That she would show signs of the gargoyle and accept him willingly.
Maybe they would even have children of their own. He could do the family thing. He could find it within himself to tolerate a child, especially if it meant he could have Galiena.
But the bitch had left him. She’d run off into the night, thinking she could merely walk out on him without consequences.
She would learn.
He’d been on edge from the moment he’d been alerted his prized possession had escaped. He still wasn’t sure how she’d gained her freedom. There were no witnesses. All that had remained of those he’d left to guard her were piles of ash. A side effect of Krauss’s experiments on her.
He’d seen ash like that before, when he was young. A woman within his father’s clan of gargoyles had the gift of seduction and magik. She’d been the one to enforce the laws among the clan. Another had challenged her once for the position and the result had been the same pile of ash. The female had stood above it, looking at the men in the clan as if daring them to try to make a move for her position again.
None had.
He learned nearly a century ago that she had perished, along with most of the clan, because of feuds among the gargoyle classes. It was for the best. They had not accepted him as one of their own. He’d been forced to live a lie, reinventing himself every few decades to keep anyone from knowing the truth. Even his own men thought he was young for a supernatural.
He wasn’t.
He was old.
Very old.
“Dammit, is it her?” he asked, his agitation growing.
“It is. But, boss…she’s in the restroom making out with some guy. And he ain’t turning into dust.”
Helmuth’s anger rose rapidly. She’d run from him to the arms of another? And this man was immune to her newfound gifts? “Do not let her out of your sight. Am I clear?”
“Yes. Do you want me to kill the man?” asked his guard. “He’s got his hands all over your woman. He’s a big guy, but you know the saying, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. And, boss, there are whispers that PSI agents are in the area. Also, I-Ops has eyes and ears all over the city right now. They’re hunting for some Outcasts or something. I don’t know all the details. Just telling you what I’m hearing on the streets.”
The demon in Helmuth hissed, wanting free to shift, fly and claw out the eyes of the man daring to touch what was his. “No! Leave him for me. Keep eyes on her. Do not approach her. We’re on the way. I’ll see to PSI and the I-Ops.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
He disconnected the call and looked at his driver. “She’s across town. At a sex club, of all places.”
“But, boss, you run all the sex clubs now. You don’t have one across town,” returned his driver.
Helmuth exhaled slowly, his patience running out. “It would seem nymphs are in the area, and either they don’t understand the rules of my city, or they have a death wish. Either way, we’re going to the club and we’re retrieving my property.”
The driver nodded.
Helmuth pressed the contact button for Gisbert Krauss on his phone. “I found her.”
“Good. I was starting to think your pet was smarter than you,” said Krauss, not bothering with pleasantries, as there was no love between the men. They worked together out of necessity, not loyalty or friendship. Helmuth had money, hired muscle, and an underground network, and Krauss had the science needed to make things happen. They’d teamed with a master vampire as well, and so far, the relationship was rocky but working. Though, Helmuth wasn’t so sure the vampire they were working with could be trusted. Molyneux had his own agenda, and it didn’t seem to line up with Helmuth’s or Krauss’s.
Several more figureheads were scheduled to begin working with them as well. Soon, they’d monopolize the paranormal underground and put an end to PSI and the I-Ops once and for all.
“I think you should get a few of your pets ready. We may need them,” said Helmuth.
Krauss was quiet a moment. “The last time you asked me to let them out to play they tore your docks to shreds. They tell me bits of bodies are still being found all this time later.”
“The berserkers are exactly what will be needed. PSI and Immortal Ops have been crawling around my city for too long. Its time a clear message was sent, and what better place to do it than a club that’s competition?”
“I like the way you think, Helmuth,” said Krauss. “I’ve got a few new pets that could use a walk. Perhaps it would be best if I take them out of their cages for some exercise. I make no promises that they can be contained.”
“Naturally.”
“Text me the location.”
Helmuth hung up and sat back in the stretch SUV. Soon he’d have his succubus back and she’d give him what he wanted—or he’d let Krauss’s pets play with her.
As the thought came to him, he winced. It would be such a waste if Galiena was to die. She was a thing of beauty. A rare gem. He’d been attracted to her from the second he’d seen her in Jinx’s club.
&nb
sp; He’d taken every wrong turn with her that he could. As he thought back on it, he realized he should have been more genuine in his pursuit of her, but he’d been desperate for a succubus companion for decades. Ever since his dick had stopped working on its own. And she was beautiful. She would be the perfect fit for him—even if she was stubborn.
Chapter Ten
Galiena ate at Bane’s mouth, desperate for what he was providing. Her hands roamed his hard, muscular body and she whimpered, wanting his shirt to be gone. She wanted bare skin against her. She shoved her hands up and under his shirt and was surprised by the feel of his chest hair. She’d never been one to like chest hair on men, but his excited her. It wouldn’t seem right for him to have a bare chest. He was simply too alpha for that.
Her fingers skimmed over extra-smooth skin. It took a moment for her brain to understand what she was feeling—scars. A lot of them. Her heart broke for him, as anger built deep within her. Who had dared to hurt him?
“Bane, are those scars? Who hurt you? I want names.”
Chuckling, he ignored her and then kissed her again, igniting more passion in her. She wanted his cock in her now, hard and rough. She didn’t want him to be gentle. She wanted him to be every bit the alpha she suspected he was capable of being. Mostly, she wanted to peel the shirt from his body and lick him.
Every inch of him.
“Hurry,” she urged.
A manly chuckle was his only verbal response. He used one arm to pin her to the bathroom door and the other to reach down between them. His large hand inched her dress up too slowly. He was taking too long. Flames would consume her if he didn’t move the show along, and quickly.
“Please,” she pleaded, desperation coating her every word. “I need this. I need you, now.”
His fingers traced over the thin material of the thong she wore. It had been one Helmuth had provided her, and while she hated it, she was happy it was thin and easily moved aside by Bane.
He put a finger to her core and broke their kiss. “You’re sure?”
Isolated Maneuver Page 9
