Trisha Telep (ed)

by The Mammoth Book of Special Ops Romance (epub)

  “Nothing going on,” she said. “Mikey-boy hasn’t so much as opened the front door to get the paper in two days.”

  Dev sighed. “You tried to gain entry again last night?”

  “Yep. And I have a lump on my head to prove it.”

  Normally, nothing could keep her out of a secured building, but Michael Bender wasn’t your usual arms-dealing, bank-robbing, terrorist scum. No, this slimeball sold his services to the highest bidder, and he used the spirit world to do his evil work. He left behind no proof and no footprints, which had made charging him with any crime impossible for regular authorities. But ACRO had the resources to nail his ass to the wall, and now they were certain he’d been responsible for several consulate bombings and assassinations, he’d become ACRO’s number one target. They’d been after him for months and now that Annika had trapped him, he’d used those same talents to make his house impenetrable – anyone trying to break in was going to get their ass kicked by things they couldn’t fight . . . or see.

  Sure, Annika could charge her body up to such a voltage that she could dissipate even a ghost’s energy, but apparently the entities Mike had enslaved could actually manipulate electricity, and the last time Annika had gone up against them they’d drained her power and whacked her on the head with a brick.

  “Understood,” Dev said. “I’ve got back-up on the way. Play nice.”

  Play nice. The way her boss said it sent tingles of both dread and anticipation up her spine, because she knew exactly who he’d deployed to join her on this mission.

  “Creed?” she breathed. “You’re sending that—”

  “I know there’s no love lost there,” he interrupted, “but you two need to deal with it.” The sound of Dev tapping on his computer keyboard came over loudly on the secure line, followed by a curse. “Gotta go. Creed should be there any minute. Don’t kill him.”

  Don’t kill him.

  Yeah. OK. Whatever. She’d tried once – the last time they’d worked together in a haunted mansion. Turned out that he was the one person in the world who was immune to her electric surges. Which made him the one person in the world she could have sex with. Oh, she could control her power, but sometimes, like when she was startled, or when she had an orgasm, her body lit up like a neon sign and short-circuited whatever she was touching.

  Including people. Except Creed.

  Her cheeks heated as those memories roared back in excruciatingly vivid detail. He’d taken her virginity at the mansion, and afterwards they’d barely spoken for weeks. Until last month anyway, when he’d been sent to her for martial arts training, and they’d done just a little too much rolling around on the mat.

  Once again, they hadn’t spoken since, though not for lack of trying on his part. Their lack of communication was her fault, and she could admit it. She didn’t need him, didn’t want him, didn’t even like him. That crazy fluttering in her belly and skipping of her heart meant nothing.

  A heavy pounding on the back door made her jump. Dammit. She was never jumpy.

  “Annika?” His deep, low voice rumbled through her, and she resented the way it made her pulse race.

  Casually, as though she wasn’t trembling on the inside, she turned away from the window and the rainy Seattle evening. Creed stood at the entrance to the living room, the dim glow of the single candle casting more than enough light for her to get a good view of all six foot five of him, wrapped in black leather from his biker boots to his pants to his jacket. His shoulder-length, dark hair fell in unruly waves against his face, the right side of which was covered with tattoos that decorated that entire side of his body.

  Her mouth watered as if getting ready to lick every one of them.

  “Creed,” she ground out, more angry at her body’s response to him than at the fact that he was here when she’d told Dev she didn’t want to work with him ever again.

  He strode into the living room like he owned the house, then scanned her from head to toe as though he owned her. “Nice seeing you, too.”

  Arrogant jerk. She wasn’t going to let him get to her this time. No way. “I hope you brought your little ghost girlfriend with you – what’s her name . . . Kat? – because we’re going to need all the help we can get on this one,” she said crisply, all business.

  “Wow. You’re eager to get to it, aren’t you?” He smiled, the cocky one that made her want to slap him. Or kiss him. Maybe both.

  “I’m always eager to work.” She turned to the table next to her, where she had the plans for Bender’s house laid out. “As you can see—”

  Creed’s hand came down on her shoulder and spun her around. “Oh, I can see,” he said, in a husky, rich voice. “I can see that before we take down this scumbag, we’re going to have to get something out of the way.”

  Swallowing dryly, she took him in – his dark, heavy-lidded eyes, his full lips and the eyebrow piercing that inched up higher the longer she stared like a dolt and said nothing.

  Finally, she cleared her throat and said with a calmness she didn’t feel, “What do we need to get out of the way? Do you need me to kick your ass? Because that I will happily do.”

  “Always with the attitude,” he murmured, as he thrust his hand into her hair and held her immobile more with the force of his will than his grip. “This is what we need to get out of the way.”

  Before she could protest, he lowered his head and kissed her.

  God, Ani tasted good. Like crisp black cherry soda on a hot summer’s day. Like sin too, because the piercing in his tongue picked up the electricity she naturally threw out when she felt attacked. Or in the mood.

  Ani would deny the last part, of course, but Creed was prepared for that. He’d given himself a nice long pep talk as his Harley roared up the bends of the old mountain road to the ACRO-rented house across the street from the piece-of-shit mansion that housed yet another piece of shit, kind of like those wooden Russian nesting dolls.

  He never understood the point of those dolls anyway, but Ani in his arms, her breasts rubbing his chest and his thigh between her legs, that was a point he always understood. And, he noted with satisfaction, it took her quite a while before she jerked her mouth from his.

  Her normally lush lips were swollen. Her hair remained in its perfect blonde pageboy, her eyes an icy blue that made him fucking hot. His erection strained against the confines of his leather pants and he shifted but did nothing to hide it. “I’ll help, Ani. You just have to do one more thing for me.”

  “Yeah? What’s that? And stop calling me Ani.” Her arms were crossed in her familiar I-will-kick-your-ass pose, and why wasn’t taking her right here on the table an option?

  Lightning cracked the air over the house and got his attention. Yeah, right, ghosts. Bad guys. Missions.

  He turned back to Annika. “All you have to do is tell me how much you want me. Because when this is all done, you’re going to show me.”

  Her lip curled. “Not going to happen, Ghost Boy. Grab a Hustler and use the bathroom if you need to get off, because that’s the only way anything’s going to happen.”

  But Ani’s words were lost on him because Kat froze – and so did he. His ink tingled, head to toe and every place in between and, for the moment, sex was forgotten.

  This was heavy shit.

  “Creed?” Ani asked, tapping his arm. But he shifted away from her, because right now, her touch was too much.

  “Demons,” he murmured, more to himself than to her, as his body rattled with the complete and utter sinister nature of this job. He knew that, even though ghosts didn’t carry guns, there was always the possibility when dealing with the supernatural that he might not get out alive, no matter how much otherworldly protection he carried with him. “More than one.”

  “So we’ll go kick their asses. If your girlfriend will cooperate.”

  “Kat is not my girlfriend,” he muttered, even as Kat pinched him hard.

  Kat was the spirit who’d been with him from birth. At once fierce pro
tector and monkey on his back, there would be no relief from her until he died. She was as much a part of him as the tattoos he’d been born with.

  The piercings? Well, those he’d added himself. And Annika had enjoyed the hell out of them.

  They hadn’t been together since last month. He’d thought about her every night since. Looked for her on the ACRO compound. Practically jumped at the chance to work with her.

  Until now, there was no possibility of having any kind of relationship beyond a quick roll with any woman – maybe twice if he was lucky – before Kat got up in arms and made his life miserable. She was jealous and possessive and, until Annika, he’d been resigned to remain a man who slept around and never got close to anybody.

  Until Ani. Because, fuck me, there was no getting over this woman. Ever since he’d slept with her on their last mission, his body burst into flames whenever he thought about her.

  Kat wasn’t happy. Granted, she didn’t seem worried, because Annika made it clear – crystal – she wanted nothing to do with him.

  Of course, she was protesting way too much. Which turned him on and made him more determined than ever to make this much more than a series of one-night stands.

  But all that was no longer a concern at the moment. He barely realized he was out of the house, walking across the lawn while staring up at the haunted mansion, Kat whispering in his ear.

  Evil. Unnatural. The man called it and now even he can’t control it.

  “We’re going to have to.”

  There are too many to count.

  “Creed, we need a plan.” Annika was literally grabbing the back of his leather jacket to stop him from continuing his march to the house. He’d already crossed the dirt road that separated the houses and was almost at the front door of the mansion without really remembering the walk. That was the way it always happened. Between his ghost-calling abilities and Kat, he went into near trances when he was on the job, which made it tough to work with anyone human.

  He remembered he’d scared Ani the last time he’d tranced out. And still, he couldn’t help it. “When it comes to the supernatural, plans never work. I prefer to just go in—”

  “—half-cocked.”

  He turned to her, his mouth pulled into a half-smile even as he felt himself drift away again to focus on the house. “We don’t have time to talk about my cock now, Ani. But later – I promise . . .”

  Two

  “Creed?” Annika tugged on his jacket. “Creed, dammit, answer me!”

  He just stared through the rain at the other house, even as the hairs on the back of her neck rose and she got that feeling she’d gotten yesterday, just before the invisible things attacked her and zapped her battery. This was so not cool. They were too exposed here.

  A shadow appeared in the front window of the creepy mansion. In one swift motion, Ani gripped Creed’s jacket with both hands and wheeled him behind a hedge. He shook his head, coming out of his weird trance.

  “Hey.” He blinked down at her. “What are you doing?”

  “Keeping us from getting killed.”

  Blinking again, he took in their surroundings. “Damn,” he muttered. “Shit. Sorry, babe.”

  Babe. In any other situation she’d have kicked his ass for that, but right now, his pet names were the least of their worries. “What’s going on, Creed? Are you OK?”

  Lightning flashed overhead as he wiped rain out of his eyes. “Yeah. I’m good. But there’s something really wrong here.”

  “I know. Michael Bend-over is a chickenshit scumbag who has holed himself up and enlisted demons to watch his slimy back.”

  “He’s lost control.”

  “What?” she yelled over the boom of thunder that shook the ground beneath them.

  Creed scrubbed his face again. “He’s lost control of the demons. Damn, Annika, this is too big for me and Kat—”

  A shot rang out. Annika threw herself at Creed, and they both hit the soggy ground. Cursing, she drew her pistol from her shoulder harness, rolled, and came up on one knee behind a brick barrier between the driveway and the yard. Creed joined her, keeping low. The window where she’d seen the movement was open, but whoever had taken a shot at them was gone. Still, the mansion’s north wing wrapped around behind them, leaving them too vulnerable to remain in place.

  “We’ve gotta go,” she breathed.

  “Back to the house?”

  She cast a longing look at the rented house, and shook her head. “I don’t like it. We could get picked off while we’re out in the open. We need to get into the mansion. I couldn’t do it by myself, but if you and Kat can deal with the hellspawn, we’re good.”

  “Let me give ACRO a call first. Tiffany specializes in demonic activity.” Creed fished his phone out of his jacket pocket and cursed. “It’s not working. They’re blocking us.”

  Annika checked hers. “Mine’s hosed too. Stupid demons.”

  She tugged on Creed’s arm and, crouching, led them to one of the places she’d scouted out earlier as being a potential entry point. Another shot rang out, and chunks of brick exploded just inches from her head. Spinning low, she returned fire, putting a bullet through a window in the north wing.

  “Cover me,” Creed said. As she drilled more shots into the target, he slipped away, and she heard the shattering of glass, followed by the screeches of something very inhuman.

  The high-pitched, hellish screams crawled up Annika’s spine. “Creed?” A shadow passed by the north-wing window and she fired, blowing out the last remaining shard of glass that clung to the frame. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

  She turned in time to see Creed disappear through the basement window he’d broken out. With one final shot at the north wing, she darted to the window Creed had gone through. Gunfire burst apart the air, and on its heels came a flash of lightning and crack of thunder so loud Annika’s ears rang. She dived through the hole, tucked, and hit the cement floor with a bone-jarring impact to her shoulder.

  Sucking air against the pain, she rolled, and she’d barely come to her feet in the darkened basement when something slammed into her gut. Instinctively, she struck out, but her fist sliced through empty air. Another blow cracked into her jaw and sent her wheeling into a support beam.

  Out of nowhere, Creed grabbed her and pulled her hard against him. “Don’t move!”

  “No problem.” Man, she hated this supernatural crap. Give her a dozen bad guys with guns, and she could handle it. But this . . . this was like cheating.

  Creed tucked her behind him and began some sort of monotone chanting. His head moved as though he was tracking something, and then, in a motion so fast she barely saw it, he hurled a handful of what looked like rock salt. An agonized, high-pitched scream jolted the fillings in her teeth, and a few feet away, where the salt had landed, a twisted, spindly shape took form. Red eyes pierced the darkness, and then disappeared. Annika swore the very air breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Is it gone?”

  “For now. We need to get your terrorist. He bound these things to him, so until he’s dead or the object he used to bind them is destroyed, we’re screwed.”

  “OK, then,” she said, heading towards the staircase, “we find Bender.”

  “Not so fast, babe.” Creed grabbed her by the elbow and swung her around. “Ground rules.”

  “Shoot to kill.” She jerked out of his grip. “Those are my ground rules.”

  Creed caught her wrist again. “Listen to me, Annika. I know you can handle the human in this house blindfolded and with your hands in your pockets, but you’ve got to promise to stick to me like Velcro.”

  She snorted. “You will do anything to get into my pants, won’t you?”

  “You bet.” His voice was gruff and full of authority, so sexy. “But this is about keeping you safe. Kat and I are going to handle the demons so you can get Bender.” He fished around in his jacket pocket and removed a vial of liquid. “Take it. It’s holy water. I’ve got salt, too.”


  Salt. Holy water. Annika rolled her eyes. She was so much more comfortable with guns and knives. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  “Annika . . .”

  The warning in his tone had her spinning back around to him, but not without a huff of frustration. They were never going to get Bender at this rate. “What? We need to get moving.”

  “Promise me you’ll stick close.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Can we go now?”

  “One more thing.”

  Dammit. “What now?”

  “When we’re done with this, we finish what we started at the house.”

  “Dream on, Ghost Boy.” She started up the stairs, heart pounding, but not from the impending danger. No, it was Creed’s dark chuckle behind her that scared the crap out of her, because she had a feeling he was deadly serious.

  She shouldn’t be here.

  “She’s going to kill the bad guy, Kat,” Creed told her before she began to screech in his ear again. Always an effective method of getting his attention.

  But this time, Kat’s words were calm. They bothered him, more than anything. She doesn’t believe.

  “She will,” he insisted. Ani will.

  “As interesting as this one-sided conversation between the two of you is, can we get a move on?” Annika snapped impatiently and, yeah, it must be frustrating for her to hear only his voice when he was talking to Kat, but he’d got used to the strange looks from people who assumed he was speaking to an imaginary friend. Annika glared, the energy in this house was quickly draining her of any patience at all. Maybe even making her paranoid. There wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it.

  Kat helped keep the bad karma off him, but Ani would be powerless. All the same, Creed began to climb the steps from the basement to the kitchen noiselessly, Annika’s boots slamming the steps behind him.