Act of Mercy (PSI-Ops / Immortal Ops)

by Roth, Mandy M.

  The more she looked at him, the more she thought about the men from the side street, near the café. The ones who had lifted the car.

  The ones who weren’t human.

  She gasped.

  Duke sighed loudly. “Darlin’, don’t try it. I’m faster than you can hope to be and I’m not about to let you get yourself killed today. So, grab that bag you’re packin’ and let’s get the hell out of here before it’s too late.”

  There was a loud crash and Mercy knew they’d run out of time.

  A man with a black ski mask rushed up behind Duke. Mercy pointed, suddenly wanting to protect the man she’d just entertained trying to run from. Duke spun, kicking with precision and hitting the masked man. Duke aimed his weapon and fired, finding his mark with ease.

  She’d never seen anyone get shot before. Her mind couldn’t seem to pull away from all the blood. There was another crash. Mercy jolted, her eyes wide. Everything seemed to happen so fast. Within seconds the room around her seemed alive with explosions.

  Not explosions, she thought. Gunfire.

  She couldn’t seem to get her body on board with hitting the floor. Instead, she stood upright, staring in wonder as Duke snatched hold of another man with a ski mask and twisted the man’s neck. There was a loud snap and Mercy knew the man was dead.

  “We need to go!” he shouted, coming for her.

  She backed up and hit the wall. The framed DNA sequence she’d masturbated to fell and crashed to the floor. Her idea of the perfect man was shattering before her yet she couldn’t help but look back in Duke’s direction. A strange knowing came over her as she looked from him to the broken pieces of the frame.

  Ohmygod, it’s him! Perfect-Male-DNA is standing in my living room with a gun.

  She was sure of it. Nothing made sense anymore. Everything in her world was turned on its head.

  “Are you able to shift into a wolf?” she asked, ignoring the gunfire around them as it cracked and popped, the room filling with smoke. Her mind was in science mode. Anything else wasn’t important.

  Duke grabbed her. “We need to go.”

  “Wait,” she said, tugging to stand in place. “Can you? I have to know.”

  Was he really the man whose DNA she’d been obsessed with? How could that be? Her mind had to be playing tricks on her. This was a side effect of fear.

  It had to be.

  With a groan, he picked her up. He actually had the nerve to lift her as if her thoughts on anything didn’t matter. She was trying to solve a mystery and he was manhandling her?

  Figures her dream DNA belonged to a brute. He thought with all his brawn he could simply carry her around as if she were a doll. Mercy was about to give him a full verbal lashing when she ran her hands over his forearm.

  Wow. He really did have big arms.

  What was I going to yell about again?

  Chapter Ten

  Duke grabbed Mercy around the waist, lifting her with ease. She barely weighed anything, and once he got her free and clear from the shooters after them, he’d damn well make sure she knew she needed to eat more. He liked his women with some meat on their bones.

  He tensed, nearly squeezing her too tight. She made a weak noise and stopped talking for the briefest of moments, telling him to ease his hold on her.

  My woman.

  He held her much like one would tuck a football under their arm to run with. Strangely, she kept gabbing. She seemed to have a question about everything, though none of them made a lot of sense to him. They seemed to be nonsensical ramblings.

  She’s in shock.

  “You’re very strong,” she said, as he ran through the doorway with her. “Do you lift weights? How much do you lift? Can you bench press a person? Do you take steroids? You do, don’t you? Is your penis small because of them? Wait, do wolf shifters need them? Are you a wolf shifter? By chance does the Corporation have your DNA sequence on file? If so, do you understand you are like the perfect male? I mean it. Totally perfect.”

  He glanced down at her and wondered if it really was shock or if this was how she normally was. The woman had been laughing during her DMV photo. Maybe she had a few screws loose. Plus, she’d thought he’d been there to fix her sink—with a handgun. As he realized she’d insulted his manhood, he grunted.

  He did not do steroids and his cock was not small. He nearly shouted as much. Instead, he filed it away for later—when he’d show her just how big he really was.

  She clutched his arm, her fingers digging in as he twisted to knock away an enemy. “Ouch,” she said. “Too tight, Mr. Might-be-a-canis-lupus.”

  Duke’s chest constricted and he loosened his hold on her somewhat. “Sorry.”

  It took him a minute to realize what she’d called him. The Latin word for wolf. Just his luck he’d be totally and completely attracted to a woman who was way smarter than him.

  She peered up at him from under a layer of red hair that was falling in her face. “How many calories a day do you intake to be able to… Oh, another bad guy.”

  Duke took a second to register what she was saying. He turned with her fast, setting her down and shielding her with his body as another hired thug appeared. This one was at the end of the hall. Corbin came busting through a wall between Duke and the newest threat. Drywall dust was all over the captain’s head. He did a double-tap with his weapon in the direction of the newest threat and the guy dropped.

  Duke nodded his thanks before facing Mercy. Her eyes were wide as she looked past him. He sighed. She saw him as a monster. “That man would have killed you. It was kill or be killed.”

  She tipped her head and stared up at him. “What? Oh, him? Yes. It was a necessary elimination.”

  “You’re not upset?” he asked, surprised.

  She pointed at Corbin. “That man came through the wall.”

  He nearly laughed. She was the target of a strike team and the only thing she seemed stunned by was the fact Corbin broke through a wall. “Yes. He did.”

  “Like a superhero.”

  He’d noticed her t-shirt when he’d first saw her. She obviously had a thing for superheroes. He didn’t want her having a thing for Corbin though. “Hey, I can walk through walls too. Pfft, that’s nothing. I lifted a car earlier.”

  “I know,” she said. “I saw you.”

  She had?

  She giggled, sounding drunk. “How many shifters does it take to lift a car? Wait, I got this one.”

  It looked as if she was calculating it in her head.

  Oh boy. It was going to be a long day.

  “Does he lift weights too?” she asked, pointing in Corbin’s direction, her voice soft, her expression even. “Or do the weights lift him? That is the question.”

  “Probably not so much,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Is he a werewolf?”

  Duke didn’t like how centered she was on Corbin. “No. A werelion. We need to leave. You need to pull yourself together.”

  “Oh, if you put a werelion in a closed box with a vial of hydrocyanic acid, is the werelion alive or dead?”

  Corbin made a strange noise.

  Duke glanced at him. “Sorry, I don’t think she really wants to put you in a box with acid.”

  He could be wrong though.

  She giggled again and then hiccupped. “Observer’s paradox.”

  Duke had no clue what the hell the woman was going on about. He just knew one thing—she was in shock.

  She waved a hand at Corbin and laughed hysterically. “Schrödinger's werelion.”

  Corbin turned and lifted a brow. “Did she hit her head?”

  “No.”

  “Is she drunk?” Corbin asked.

  “Yeah, we took a break to hit the hooch, asshole,” Duke said snidely.

  “I hate to break it to you, but she’s different.”

  Duke shrugged. He bent and lifted her again, this time a bit more tenderly than before. The fierce need to protect her and yet do so gently overwhelmed him. He wante
d to wrap her in a bubble. “Yes, Doc, we all lift weights.”

  “You got her?” asked Corbin, bringing up his six.

  “Yeah.”

  “Boomer is getting the van. Striker is clearing a path down the front staircase,” said Corbin.

  A series of blasts followed. That was some path Striker was clearing. From the sounds of it there might possibly be a hole in the side of the building.

  Mercy continued to talk nearly nonstop, only taking breaks to laugh, as they advanced through the building. People handled stress differently. Apparently, Mercy found humor in it and had a question for everything.

  Duke had to set her on her feet to check a doorway that was before the staircase. He turned her to face him and did the only thing he could think to do in order to shut her up.

  He kissed her.

  It was meant to be chaste, but the moment he tasted her sweet lips on his, Duke couldn’t stop himself. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and much to his delight, she returned the gesture with the tiniest moans of pleasure following. Her small hands found his chest and she kneaded his black shirt, her fingers scraping against him. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, eating at her mouth. The wolf in him roared to life and he felt the telltale burning of a pending shift in his mouth. He didn’t want to hurt her but he couldn’t seem to stop kissing her.

  She eased her hands up to his face, her lips still on his. He had to fight with all his strength to break the kiss before he accidently sprouted fangs. His forehead went to hers as he held her high off the ground. The moment was far more intimate than he was used to. He was normally a fuck ’em and forget ’em kind of guy.

  Not with her.

  Never with her.

  “I’ve got you, Doc. You’re safe with me.”

  “I know,” she whispered, her arms going around his neck. He felt the tremble in her body and wanted to kill everyone and everything that had scared her. He put his lips to hers, wanting to kiss her again first.

  Corbin tapped his back. “Another time, perhaps. Seems a bit out place with all the people shooting at us and all. But, please, by all means, do not let me be the voice of reason.”

  He drew his mouth from Mercy’s, his body alive with the need to fully possess the woman before him. “Asshole.”

  Mercy blinked. “Did you just call me an asshole?”

  “What?” he asked, and then realized what had happened. He set her on her feet gently. “No. I was calling my captain an asshole.”

  “You have issues with authority, don’t you? That could get you fired.”

  Duke shot his captain a shit-assed grin.

  Groaning, Corbin rubbed his temple. “If only.”

  She touched her swollen lower lip. “You kissed me.”

  “Yes, and I plan to do it again really soon.”

  Corbin shook his head as he walked to the stairs. “Smooth, Marlow. Smooth.”

  Duke cringed and glanced at Mercy. What was it about her that made him so nuts?

  Yes, she was stunning.

  Yes, her smell was divine.

  Yes, she was brilliant.

  But why her? Why did he seem incapable of thought around her?

  Because she’s your mate, dumbass.

  The thought jerked him into reality. The intense need to guard her overtook him and he bent, lifting her once more, this time throwing her over his shoulder as he made quick work of getting her the rest of the way out of the building. Corbin stayed close and they were met by Striker at the back entrance.

  “Boomer has the van,” Striker said, motioning for them to follow. “He was able to grab a chunk of our gear but we’re leavin’ the rest behind.”

  A van pulled to a quick stop in front of them. Striker flung the door open for Duke and Duke practically tossed Mercy in. He righted her the moment he climbed in behind her. Striker followed and took the far back seat, his weapon at the ready. Duke closed the sliding van door and Corbin climbed into the front passenger seat.

  “Alter the base,” said Mercy, looking down at her hands. “The chemicals are added.” She wasn’t making any sense, yet kept going, kept repeating the same things.

  Boomer glanced at Duke. “She okay?”

  Duke wasn’t sure. Cupping her face, Duke locked gazes with her. “Doc?”

  She blinked. “Hmm?”

  “You all right there?” he asked, worry lacing very fiber of his being.

  Her small hand found his cheek. She touched under his eye. “Your eyes are almost black.”

  He said nothing.

  “Are you a werewolf?” she asked again, sounding much like a broken record. Granted, it was a record that just had a hit team come after it. “You didn’t answer me. And I have to know. I think you’re him.”

  “Him who?” he asked, ready to kill any other male who tried to take her.

  She rocked back and forth and laughed softly. “The one I touched myself thinking about.”

  All the men’s heads whipped around, their gazes on her. Duke growled, warning them to look away. He wrapped an arm around her. He wanted to shout that she’d dared to touch herself to thoughts of another man. He didn’t. “Who is this guy? I want a name.”

  “First, are you a werewolf?” she asked.

  It took all he had to control his temper. If she didn’t tell him about this other man and soon he was likely to shift forms and show her just how much of a werewolf he was. Of course, that might scare her and he’d never want that.

  Pussy.

  “Yes. I’m a lycan.”

  She beamed. “I knew it was you when I saw you.”

  Confused, he dipped his head closer to hers. “What did you know?”

  “That the DNA sequencing belonged to you,” she said. “The one I had framed on my wall.”

  Duke thought about the picture of the strange modern art that had been in her bedroom. “I’m not following.”

  “It’s a printout of DNA results from a test subject from another facility. One affiliated with the Corporation. It’s from years ago.”

  “Duke,” Striker said.

  Duke already knew what the man wanted to tell him. Striker wanted to remind him about the period he’d spent locked away by madmen. They’d taken endless samples from him back then. He squeezed Mercy tighter, wanting her safe and far from all the horrors of his past.

  She began to sing about putting Corbin in a box.

  Striker tapped Duke’s shoulder. “Hey, by chance does the wee doctor have a bit of pixie in her? I once dated a pixie and every time she was nervous, she made jokes, talked nonstop and laughed. Oh, but she was worth it. Pixies are dynamite in bed.”

  Ignoring Striker, Duke glanced at Mercy, thinking about what she was saying. She had his DNA and it turned her on?

  She’s attracted to you too. Like nature intended.

  He gasped and faced forward, refusing to look at her.

  Super pussy. That could be your super power. Being afraid of a tiny redhead.

  He stiffened.

  She pressed against him more. Her other hand went to his thigh. “You’re Jimmy’s friend and you don’t want to kill me.”

  He nearly laughed. Killing her was the furthest thing from his mind. Fucking her was closer to accurate. He didn’t think she was quite ready to hear that so he refrained from mentioning it. “No. I don’t want to kill you.”

  “Jimmy said you’d hurt me because I forgot the right passwords,” she confessed.

  Duke couldn’t stop himself as he brushed stray strands of red hair from her pale face. He wanted to caress her, touch her all over, the feel of her soft skin spurring him onward. He resisted. It was hard. “We figured out you weren’t one of the bad guys.”

  “That’s good,” she said, glancing down. “Are you going to kill the Corporation?”

  He wasn’t entirely sure who the Corporation was. “Are they who took James?”

  She nodded.

  “Then more than likely yes.”

  “They’re who just tried to
kill me. I know it. Bertrand figured it all out.”

  Duke growled. He’d do more than kill them. He’d make them all wish they’d never been born. No one hurt his woman. No one. “Then I most certainly will be killing them.”

  “Good,” she whispered.

  She seemed to relax and almost fold against him. Unsure what to do, Duke sat awkwardly for a moment before lifting his arm and wrapping it around her small frame. He held her closer and thought she might actually attempt to crawl through him.

  “Jimmy said you’d come,” she murmured against his chest. “I didn’t think you would.”

  “We did.”

  “And you’ll help me save Jimmy?” she asked.

  “We’ll save him.”

  “Do you lift weights?” she asked again.

  “Is she all right,” Striker touched his temple, “in the head?”

  Duke gave him a hard look. “She’s been through a lot. Men just tried to kill her.”

  “Bertrand sent them,” she added. “He knows I’m helping Jimmy and the others.”

  Duke made a mental note to kill Bertrand first chance he got—whoever the fuck Bertrand was.

  Mercy continued to babble, asking question after question. Duke noticed she did so with her body pressed close to his. Duke cupped her small hand, unable to ignore their size difference. She curled against him. Duke’s entire body lit with need. He cleared his throat, hoping the other males wouldn’t pick up on the obvious mating energy he was emitting.

  Striker’s casual glance in his direction followed by a brow waggle and a nod told Duke he’d been unsuccessful in hiding his desires.

  Boomer drove with a good deal of speed, considering the amount of traffic in Paris this time of day. He managed to duck and weave throughout it without making any stops. If anyone had been following them, they were long gone now.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mercy sat practically glued to one of the hunks who had burst into her life from out of nowhere. Jimmy had talked about these men with her—telling her stories about each of them but never naming them. She’d stopped laughing at inappropriate times and about silly things, recognizing it as a sign of the stress she’d been under. She wanted to apologize but was too embarrassed to draw any more attention to her behavior.