“Just a little light-headed,” she said, forcing a small smile. “It’s been a long day.” Can she hear the slight slur in my voice? Or is that just my imagination?
Dr. Patel studied her for a little longer than was comfortable. “Let me go get Agent Stark, okay?”
Stas nodded once, making the world spin.
Standard vaccinations, my ass.
She’d be researching that Nizari whatever later. After some sleep.
At least the numbness had worn off, leaving her more nauseated than weak. But still dizzy. She focused on re-dressing and forced another friendly exchange when Doctor Patel returned with Agent Stark.
They said some things.
Hopefully nothing important, because she barely heard them. Hardly even paid attention to Stark escorting her back upstairs. Fortunately, he didn’t speak much, just instructed her on when and where to scan her badge. He led her to the familiar four-story glass lobby of the CRF and handed over her purse.
Where did you find this?
“Welcome to the CRF, Stas,” he said, his light green eyes capturing hers. A hint of familiarity hit her, causing her heart to flutter.
I know you…
Because he just did her polygraph.
Right. Yeah. “Thanks,” she said. Or she thought she did, anyway.
With another forced smile, or maybe a grimace, she turned toward the flags decorating her exit. The creepy one in the middle grabbed her attention first, as it always did.
Memento Mori, it said in a fancy scrawl. Remember that you must die.
Why, thank you, creepy flag, she thought as she pushed through the doors.
She moved on autopilot, relying on her ten months of experience traveling between the CRF headquarters and Lizzie’s condo. Two trains. Walking. Central Park. Oh, Seventy-Ninth Street. Home.
I can sleep now, she thought numbly, half walking, half slouching. Or maybe I should go to a hospital.
“Astasiya?”
Her gaze came up from the sidewalk to find Issac leaning against a sleek black car parked outside of Lizzie’s building. Another suit. Of course. At least she had on a blouse and skirt this time. Or did she leave her blouse behind?
She lifted her arm.
Nope.
It was on.
When did I do that?
“Are you all right?” the cultured voice asked, causing her to squint in his direction.
Is he real? She tilted her head. Looks pretty real. Sexy, too. No, we don’t like demons. But this one is nice. Oh, he asked something…
She blanked on what he wanted to know, not that her mouth felt all that capable of replying. Her tongue felt too big, and wow, the world was really moving, wasn’t it? She couldn’t distinguish up from down from sideways. Everything started to tilt upside—
Hands gripped her shoulders, causing her to stumble back a few steps. Issac. Damn, he moved fast. She could have sworn he stood over ten feet away from her just a few seconds ago.
“Your security interview was today. Did that include a medical exam?” His voice pierced the fog, his handsome face far too close to hers.
“Uh.” She had to focus. What did he ask? About my medical exam? “Yup. Lotsa shotsss.”
“Were any of them green?”
“Creepy green.” She shivered. “Cold green. Then sooo hot.” Like you. Ah, she had to stop that. Maybe not looking at him would help. Oh, yes, closing the eyes… A slap against her cheek had her flinching and glaring upward at the too-handsome offender. “Ow.”
“I need you to stay awake.”
Whoa, they were flying.
No, she was flying.
As in, no longer standing but still moving. In his arms, surrounding her with sandalwood and peppermint and lulling her into comfort. She rested her head against a muscular shoulder, only to be jolted awake and set on something leathery. I’m in his car.
“Talk to me,” he said from beside her. Is he already driving?
“I don’t feel right.”
“I can see that, darling. Tell me about the vaccinations.”
She yawned. “Cold. Fire.”
He replied with something, but the pounding in her ears overshadowed his sexy accent. Black painted her vision as her head hit something soft. A pillow? She didn’t know. Didn’t care. Exhaustion consumed her entirely.
No more pain.
No more dreams.
Just… sleep.
Issac studied the injection sites on Astasiya’s arms, noting the discoloration of her veins. She felt cold—too cold—and her breathing was far too shallow.
She’s dying.
“Fuck.” This couldn’t be happening. But here she was, lying in his bed… dying.
Because of me.
Those three words reverberated in his mind, leaving him helpless at her side. He never meant for this to happen, never expected Jonathan to go to such lengths. Yes, sometimes innocents were a casualty of war. He’d said that just the other night, and still believed it.
But this was a casualty he intended to fix.
No matter the cost.
Hence the incoming presence beside him.
“This better be important, Wakefield,” Lucian said as he appeared with his teleporter, Jacque.
Issac didn’t bother with pleasantries, jumping right to the point. “Look.” He lifted Astasiya’s hand to show them the inky green lines crawling up her arm. “Is that what I think it is?”
Lucian eyed Astasiya’s skin with interest and knelt beside her for a closer examination. His big hand enveloped her wrist, twisting it one way and then the other. “Nizari poison.”
Jacque’s dark eyebrows shot up into his moppy hairline. “A fledgling? In New York City?”
Issac ignored the teleporter and focused on the issue at hand. They could discuss her heritage later. “I think it’s a variant of the venom.” The Nizari assassins didn’t know she existed because Issac never reported her existence to the Conclave. And as fledglings were rare these days—a result of the lethal Ichorians killing most of them before their immortal rebirth—most of the assassins were retired.
“It’s not the Conclave,” Lucian said, his lips flattening. “The mark is too obvious.”
Yes, the Nizari were known for making fledgling deaths look like accidents. “I think it’s Jonathan.” No one else would have any reason to test her ancestry. Of course, this implied that he knew about her ability to compel. “The CRF gave Astasiya immunizations as part of her medical exam today. She said they were green,” he added while listening for her vitals. So slow. Too slow.
“Who is this woman, Issac?” The command in Lucian’s tone, coupled with his muscular stature and hard stare, would bring most men to their knees in submission. Women, too.
But Issac didn’t heel to anyone, least of all Lucian. They were family, after all, despite living on opposite sides of the immortal coin.
“She’s a long story that we don’t have time for right now.” His phone buzzed, security calling from the lobby. Finally. Issac answered and told them to let his physicians up. “I have two of my best infectious disease clinicians coming in to evaluate her. I need you to give them everything you know.” Both doctors were on his payroll at Wakefield Pharmaceuticals, and they specialized in orphan drugs. Between their skill sets and Lucian’s familiarity with the Nizari venom, they might be able to save Astasiya’s life.
“Why didn’t you report her presence?” Lucian pressed. “She’s a fledgling, and therefore mine. You know the rules, Wakefield.”
Sometimes Issac really hated the man he called a brother. “I’m not debating this right now, Lucian. I need you to help my physicians save her life. Then we’ll discuss her history and how I know her.” He dialed Mateo before Lucian could reply.
His progeny picked up on the first ring. “Sire?”
“I need you to break into the CRF’s database and retrieve whatever information you can on Astasiya’s medical exam.”
A second of hesitation passed before
Mateo replied, “When I do this, they may detect my virtual presence.” A subtle warning.
Mateo was the only being in existence with the technical wherewithal to hack anything. And Issac had kept the extent of his abilities a secret for years, hoping to use him as a trump card at the right moment.
It seemed today was now that moment. Because while the young Ichorian possessed the talent to attack a corporation from inside the system, the woman dying in Issac’s penthouse flat could hurt his opponent from a much more vulnerable place.
The perfect revenge.
“I’m aware of the risk,” Issac replied, his mind already made up. She must live.
“Of course, Sire. I’ll send the records to your personal file.”
“Thank you, Mateo.”
He hung up just as his health care professionals arrived. Jacque went to retrieve them, leaving Issac alone with his old friend. Those hard emerald eyes told Issac exactly how Lucian felt about the situation. As the Hydraian King, he wasn’t used to being kept in the dark, let alone ordered around.
“You and I are going to have a very long conversation once this is over.” Lucian’s tone brooked no argument.
“Save her first.”
“Fine.”
A violent shiver wracked Astasiya, drawing attention to her rising fever. The damp washcloth Issac had placed on her forehead before everyone else arrived wasn’t doing a damn thing. His doctors rushed over to assess her, forgoing the usual greetings. Thank fuck.
“I’m going to need a few things.” Lucian listed them for Jacque. “And bring Alik. Every moment I spend in this city is a risk to my life.” He leveled another sharp glance at Issac, his sacrifice clear. New York City wasn’t safe for Hydraians, let alone their King. “I need B and Jay, too,” he added.
“On it.” The teleporter disappeared, something the researchers failed to notice, as they were too engrossed in tending to Astasiya.
In his bedroom.
Not a guest room.
The decision had been made without thought. An oversight for him to evaluate later.
“You owe me,” Lucian said, scribbling something down on a notebook one of the researchers had handed him.
On the contrary, Lucian, Issac thought. Once you realize how powerful she is, you will owe me. Assuming she survives.
6
Helpful Hydraians
“Start talking, Wakefield.” Lucian stood beside Astasiya’s comatose form, his thick arms folded over his chest, legs spread. Balthazar sat in the corner chair, while Jayson and Alik stood by the windows, their stances guarded. Every moment they stayed here put all their lives in jeopardy, but it had taken nearly two hours to stabilize Astasiya’s vitals.
Now her life was in the hands of the researchers who had left only moments ago to prepare a makeshift remedy at the lab.
Either it would work or it wouldn’t.
What if it doesn’t?
She appeared so helpless and alone in Issac’s bed, her hair fanned out around her in a halo of gold. A foreign part of him longed to lie with her, to provide her with any semblance of comfort he could, if even for a moment. Odd considering he never wanted to hold anyone, not even sexual partners. He preferred his space, hence his requirements to keep women out of his quarters.
Yet, he hadn’t hesitated to place her in his bed.
He still didn’t know why, didn’t truly wish to consider the cause. It had just felt right to carry her here rather than to one of the guest suites. As if he felt compelled to watch over her, to protect her.
“Fascinating,” Balthazar murmured from the corner chair, his lips curled at the edges. The mind reader could hear every thought in the room—no, within the entire building and well beyond it—and was clearly listening to Issac now.
Fuck you, Issac thought at him, edging the words with sarcasm.
Anytime, he mouthed back at him. Somber moments be damned, the man oozed sex in everything he said and did, and he certainly didn’t discriminate when it came to bed partners.
Never going to happen. A phrase Issac had thought at the male many, many times. Not that it would deter Balthazar in the slightest. One flash of his sinful gaze sent most women to their knees—men, too. Pair that with his athletic physique and the thousands of years of experience under his belt, and, well, most didn’t stand a chance against his charm. Yet, he never tempted Issac. Females, specifically natural blonde ones, were Issac’s preference. Like the woman in his bed.
Lucian cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve done everything I can to ensure her survival, Wakefield. I want an explanation. Now.”
Right. Procrastinating the discussion served little purpose. Might as well start from the beginning. “Her name is Astasiya Davenport. We met the morning of Angelton’s murder.”
Issac relayed the story of their fateful introduction, including details about her immunity to his gift for visual manipulation, and the evidence suggesting her long friendship with Owen.
“Mateo pulled the police records,” he continued. “Then additional files on her history. She was adopted at age seven by a couple who lives in Havre, Montana, and it seems someone went to great lengths to cover up her life before that moment. She moved to New York to attend the university, which is where she befriended Owen, as I already mentioned. That’s also where she met the young Elizabeth Watkins, who later introduced her to the Fitzgeralds.”
Jayson and Alik turned from their perches by the floor-to-ceiling windows at the mention of the infamous names. As Elders, they were considered to be the most powerful of their race, which was why they were here. Allowing their King to visit the most dangerous city in the world for Hydraians went against the grain, but their lifelong friendship with Issac circumvented the rules. These men were family, and no treaty or war would ever put them on opposite sides of the playing field.
“She knows Jonathan,” Lucian said, scratching the blond stubble dotting his chin. “Which can only mean one thing. You’re using the girl to get vengeance for Amelia.”
“I am.” The words tasted bitter in his mouth, mainly because he felt responsible for her current situation. He only meant to pique Jonathan’s interest. Which he clearly succeeded in doing since the lunatic tried to poison the poor woman.
“But she’s a fledgling,” Lucian added.
“Yes,” he confirmed, aware of what the Hydraian King really wanted to know. Fledglings were rare, and one as powerful as Astasiya was even rarer. “In addition to being resistant to psychic gifts, she has a persuasive talent.”
Jayson frowned. “Meaning what? She can coax people into doing things?”
“Not coax. Command. Like Osiris.” Stunned silence met his words. Osiris was the most powerful Ichorian in existence. Suggesting her gift rivaled the notorious immortal’s spoke volumes about her potential. She would be unstoppable after her rebirth.
“You’re telling me, that as a fledgling, she has the power to command?” Doubt colored Lucian’s tone.
“I observed her use of persuasion twice in casual conversation. It was natural and effective.” And sexy as hell.
Issac’s focus shifted to her prone form. Her heartbeat comforted him only a little. The machines were doing their jobs of keeping her alive, but he had no way of knowing how long it would last.
The urge to lie beside her overcame him again, but he swallowed it. Now wasn’t the time to show weakness. Not when he needed to negotiate.
“You’re soft on her,” Balthazar noted in an unhelpful manner. “I mean, I can see why. Even half-dead she’s gorgeous, but it’s not like you to delve deeper than the surface, Wakefield. She must be phenomenal in bed.” Issac tried not to think about it, but the smile that slipped over those too-perfect lips told him his thoughts came over loud and clear. The bastard let out a low whistle. “Wow. He hasn’t fucked her yet. No wonder he wants her to live so badly.” At Lucian’s cocked eyebrow, the mind reader waved a hand. “Yeah, sorry, carry on.”
“Tell me more about her relationship with the Fitz
geralds and why you think she can be used against Jonathan,” Lucian said, the rock band logo on his shirt peeking through his folded forearms. Even dressed casually, the man exuded authority. Not that Issac would ever bend to him, but on this, he’d compromise.
He relayed what he knew, which wasn’t much, yet enough to explain how the girl could be useful. “We all want revenge, and I think Astasiya could be the key,” he concluded.
Jayson twirled a knife between his long fingers. His shoulders and muscular stature rivaled the others, but beneath it all was a calm lethality underlined in charm. A dangerous combination, one that aided him well when on a mission to assassinate someone. “Can’t we just kill the son of a bitch and get it over with?” he asked, his tone far too pleasant for the words.
“Don’t look at me,” Alik replied. He was the shortest of the group, at just six feet tall, and also the deadliest. “I voted to slaughter him six years ago when he left Eli’s head on that godforsaken table beside his headless body holding Amelia’s ashes. Talk to the King. He’s the one who said it was better to wait.”
Lucian rolled his eyes at the jibe. The Elders and Issac were among the few who could harass the man about his regal title. No one else would dare.
“From what you’ve told me, she’s not going to be easily swayed to our cause,” Lucian said, his expression thoughtful, assessing. “Which also means she’s not going to be quick to join us in Hydria, either.”
An intelligent deduction, and accurate.
“Astasiya requires a slow introduction to our world. It’s the only way to build trust, especially after this.” Issac considered the woman in his bed, wondering if she dreamt in her deep sleep. Her immunity to his gift made it impossible for him to know, something that intrigued him more than it should. “I’m up for the challenge of teaching her.”
“I’m sure you are.” Another unhelpful comment from the mind reader in the corner.
Lucian flashed him a speculative glance. “You realize trusting an Ichorian to mentor and groom what could be the most powerful Hydraian in existence goes against the grain, yes?”
Vote Then Read: Volume I Page 127