by Sydney Croft
Creed sighed. “After she left my place—”
“She was at your place? In the bed we share now?” Annika’s voice had gone shrill enough to make Creed wince, but she didn’t care. Didn’t care that she was acting like some sort of jealous fishwife either. She’d never really gotten too worked up over the scores of skanky women she’d run into who had bedded Creed, because they had been disposables who didn’t work at ACRO.
But Sela … she wasn’t one of the bar whores Creed had fucked before he’d gotten together with Annika. She was beautiful, intelligent and … right here in the same organization.
Now Annika knew how Creed had felt when he discovered her lessons with one of the male Seducers years earlier.
“Annika, it was a long time ago. And it was just the once.” Of course it was. His ghostly guardian, Kat, had never let him sleep with any woman besides Annika more than once or twice. He ran his hand through his shoulder-length hair. “She spent a couple of days afterward investigating ACRO. I think she must have seduced a gate guard or something. She came back to my house and laid out what she knew … and insisted on meeting Dev. I arranged it, and Dev hired her. Simple as that. I hardly ever see her anymore.”
“I hate her.” It was a childish, stupid thing to say, but whatever. Annika had never been in a relationship before, thanks to her tendency to shock men to death during orgasm, and even though she’d come a long way, maturity-wise, she still had relapses. Like now.
Creed smiled, the one that made her stomach flutter, and then he cupped the back of her head and brought her in for a gentle kiss. “You have nothing to worry about, you know.”
That fast, she calmed down. “I know,” she sighed. “I don’t doubt you at all.”
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? You’ve been restless lately.”
She had. She’d been a mix of extra-clingy and extra-distant. Their relationship had been going well, though Creed had been increasingly anxious when she went off on missions.
“No idea. I’ve just been tired, I think.”
Creed frowned. “You’re never tired.”
“I know. It’s weird. Maybe I’m getting old.”
His hand came down on her shoulder, and he bent to look her straight in the eyes. “You got your birth control shot, right? Right?”
Well, if that didn’t just chill her blood. And piss her off at the same time. No way in hell did she want a kid, but for some reason, the way he said it, like having one with her would be a horrible tragedy, set her the fuck off.
“Well, duh,” she snapped. “How stupid do you think I am?”
The immunization ACRO had developed to prevent pregnancy in females, and disease in both sexes, was required for all operatives who worked the kinds of missions that might require them to screw someone. Annika had never needed it, but now that she was with Creed and sleeping with him, she’d been anal about getting the quarterly boosters.
“Whoa.” He held up his hands and took a step back. “Just checking. You’ve been moody and tired.”
“Moody?”
“Ah … well …”
“Moody?” Oh, she’d show him moody. She spun around and took the steps two at a time. The thud of heavy boots followed her, and she wheeled back to him with a snarl. Creed drew up like he’d hit a wall. “Don’t. You wouldn’t want to touch me and get me pregnant or something.”
He blinked. “Are you upset because you want kids?”
“Hell, no, I don’t want any little drooling rug rats!” A couple of guys dressed in the standard ACRO uniform—black BDUs—stared as they walked past, and she flipped them off. But she also lowered her voice. “But you know, you could at least pretend that it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I did get pregnant.”
Except, it would be, because she’d been raised by CIA monsters to be a robotic killing machine with no morals or feelings, and she wouldn’t even know where to start raising a kid. She wasn’t mother material and never would be. Apparently, Creed agreed, because his face markings stood out starkly as his tan skin paled.
“It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but—”
“But what?” Fuck. She had no idea what she was upset about. At all. But she kept getting angrier and more irrational by the second.
“It’s just … it’s something we should talk about,” he said quietly.
A weight settled in her gut, which had started churning. She knew he wanted kids. He knew she didn’t. It was a reality they’d have to face eventually, but she didn’t want it to be now.
“I have to go.”
“Annika—”
“Later.”
She took off as if she had a fire lapping at her combat boots’ heels. God, how long had it been since she’d walked away from Creed in a moment of anger? A year, at least. And here she was, reverting back to her old self, and why?
Because he’d asked her if she was current on her birth control?
Of course she was … wasn’t she?
As she jogged through the little park in the middle of the base, she recalled her last visit to medical. She’d had a question for Kira, ACRO’s most talented animal whisperer, but the woman hadn’t been at the kennels or stables where she usually was. Annika had had to track her down at ACRO’s day care facility, where Kira’s triplets stayed while she and Ender were working.
Annika hadn’t been breathing in the scent of baby powder and diapers for even two minutes before she’d practically run out of there and had gone straight to the medical facility, where she’d demanded a shot—four weeks early.
That had been three months ago. Three months and three and a half weeks ago, actually.
Oh, God.
Annika clutched her belly as a wave of nausea rolled through her. She was overdue.
Over. Due.
Fuck.
She glanced at her watch. She had to teach a class in half an hour. That gave her enough time to jump in the Jeep and head to a drugstore.
Five minutes after that, she should know if her world was still safe and sound.
Or if it had just ended.
SELA COULD STILL FEEL THE BURN OF ANNIKA’S EYES IN THE middle of her back as she entered Dev’s office. He was sitting at his desk, grumbling at a PDA, which he put aside when Sela sank into a chair.
“Things were so much easier when I was blind,” he sighed, and she had to admit, he’d been scary-efficient as a blind man. Now he seemed more harried. He didn’t miss a beat, though, and pushed a file at her. “You’re going to South America. Brazil, near the Colombia border.”
“To investigate what I saw on the video?”
He nodded and ran his fingers through his spiky brown hair. “Any idea what might have attacked those men?”
“I can’t say. It looked like some sort of animal, but I’d rather not speculate until I learn more.” And animal, her ass. It looked like a monster.
His smile was slow and all-knowing in that freaky way of his. “How was Puerto Rico?”
Christ, did everyone know about her trip? “It was as enlightening as I expected it to be,” she said. “Which means I found no new evidence that suggests chupacabras are real.” She tapped the folder. “And if you’re thinking that a chupacabra attacked those men, well, that’s not likely.”
“Because they don’t exist?”
“That, and even if they did—which I don’t believe they do—the Amazon isn’t a hotbed of reported chupacabra activity.” Except, she’d checked the logs before she left her office, and recently there had been a number of sightings in the region, as well as an increase in bizarre livestock deaths.
“This is why you’re perfect for the job. You’re a skeptic, so you’ll be going in without any preconceived ideas.”
Sela grumbled. She hated the jungle. “I do have a preconceived idea. I think it’s probably a jaguar or gorilla.” A deformed, superfast, superstrong jaguar or gorilla. Which was almost as unlikely as the chupacabra. “Who were the men?”
Dev sat back in his chair an
d steepled his fingers. “Well, this is where it gets interesting,” he said, as if the mysterious cryptid wasn’t the most fascinating part. “They were SEALs on a mission. Obviously, not easy to kill, but whatever attacked them took out the entire team. One is MIA, presumed dead.”
“Maybe the MIA is responsible.”
“Could be. Can’t rule out anything yet.”
“And the Navy wanted our help on this?” Seemed a little extreme for them to call in ACRO, but then, as a secret paramilitary organization, ACRO had covertly worked side by side with all of the branches of the military for years.
“The Navy didn’t contact us.” He gestured to the thick file. “It’s all in there. You can catch up on the plane. Can you leave in an hour?”
“I’m already packed.” She flipped through the folder’s contents but didn’t stop on any particular page or photo. “Am I going alone?” Usually she went with another cryptozoologist and a small contingent of specialists to assist in photography, research, electronics, etc., if the mission wasn’t deemed to be dangerous. If it was, ACRO sent her with all of that plus a security team.
Dev’s long pause sent a chill up her spine. “You’re going with Marlena.”
“Marlena?” Sela frowned. “Your secretary?”
“She’s no longer my assistant. She’s a Seducer now. She’s fully trained, but this will be her first real mission.”
“Ah … forgive me, sir, but why in the world would I be taking a Seducer on a crypto assignment?”
“Because this is more than a mission to find a mysterious species. Two weeks before the attack, a company called Global Weapons Corporation set up camp near where the SEALs were killed. Satellite photos showed that the camp was still there as of three days ago, but now it’s gone and can’t be located. However, I have intel that indicates they’re in the area. It’s possible that GWC was either hired to take out those SEALs, or they used the team as a test for their creation.”
“The creation being the creature.”
“Yes.”
“This sounds very Itor.”
“We know that GWC has supplied Itor with weapons in the past. It’s likely that Itor contracted GWC after they failed to turn Rik into their ultimate animal weapon.”
Ulrika was a recent acquisition, a powerful shape-shifter who now worked in the Cryptozoology department. As the first truly mythological creature proven to exist, Ulrika had been a shock to Sela’s system. Then again, Ulrika had been, in part, an Itor lab creation, and since her entire family had been destroyed, there was still no proof that shape-shifters existed as natural creatures in the wild.
“So why not send a combat agent into this? Why me?”
“Once you get the intel, proof that GWC is working with Itor, or proof that the creature exists, I’ll send in combat agents. But to start, we need you. The guy GWC sent to join the camp at around the time of the attacks, the owner’s son, Logan Mills, isn’t stupid. He’s not going to fall for a story that some lone person just happened to stumble onto his camp in the jungle. We need to be convincing. I need a cryptozoologist and her assistant to be investigating reports of a … what’s it called, a goat fucker?”
“Goat sucker. Chupacabra.”
“Fine. Chupacabra. You’ll need to get captured, and when you do, they’ll realize you’re the real thing. A cryptozoologist investigating sightings by the locals.”
“And then?”
“You find out the truth.”
A feeling of dread crept up from the depths of her bowels, and she slowly placed the folder on her lap, open to a photo of Logan, apparently taken at some sort of backyard party. He had a beer in one hand, and his other was slung around some chick who resembled Marlena. Tall, dark-haired and muscular, he was hotter than hot, which, combined with Dev’s “truth” statement, set off all kinds of warning klaxons.
“Since we’re talking about the truth,” she said, “maybe you could be straight with me. The reason you picked me for this assignment has nothing to do with my outstanding record in my field, does it?”
“You are our best cryptozoologist,” he hedged.
“No shit.” Probably not the best way to talk to the boss, but she had a bad feeling about this. “And?”
“And … in addition to your cryptozoology experience, you may need to employ your … other skills.”
Fuck. Just … fuck.
“Exactly,” Dev said, and she knew he’d read her mind. “If Marlena can’t seduce information out of someone, you’ll have to.”
“Dev—”
“I know I’m asking a lot,” he said gently. “But you really are the only person we can send in with Marlena. No one else in your office has undercover training.”
No, they didn’t. Everyone at ACRO was sent through exhaustive physical instruction so they could defend themselves in pretty much any situation, but as an undercover field operative, her training had gone well beyond that. She’d been trained in covert operations, weapons handling, combat techniques—and as a Seducer, she’d been given specialized instruction in sex. And, like all operatives, she was immunized against pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases, thanks to ACRO’s advanced science.
But none of that had protected her on her final mission as a Seducer, and her bones began to ache in all the places where they’d been broken three years ago.
“Marlena is good,” he said. “Really good. And she fits the profile for the type of woman Logan likes. You shouldn’t have to do anything beyond nose around and look for whatever it is GWC is playing with.”
God, she hoped so. Because Sela hadn’t touched a man since the day one had nearly beaten her to death.
She was glad her hand didn’t shake as she closed the file, shutting out Logan’s face. Because she wasn’t afraid as much as she was angry. There was a reason that Seducer mission was her last, and it had nothing to do with nearly being killed.
She’d hated seducing men for information, hated getting a head full of their deepest, darkest secrets, which often left her feeling ill for days. The men she’d been assigned to seduce weren’t pillars of the community, and the things they’d done still sat in her memory like cyanide pills, leaking poison into her system and making her sick at the most inconvenient times.
One more horrible memory might put her over the edge, and that Logan guy looked like just the kind of man to do it.
EVEN THOUGH THE ANSWERS WERE ALWAYS THE SAME, MARLENA West had woken early and headed to ACRO’s science labs anyway for her monthly check-in with the team that had been following her case for ten years.
Dr. Petra James was in charge of the case very few people knew about. A small woman with serious brown eyes, she had taken up the charge to find answers for Marlena at Devlin O’Malley’s request. Although, knowing Devlin, it most likely was more of a demand.
And even though Marlena never got her hopes up, the small shake of Dr. James’s head still hurt. Unable to find a cure. We’ll keep looking. Don’t ever give up.
Now, back at the Seducers’ housing where she lived, she stared between the orders placed on her bed, indicating her next mission, and the picture of her sister that had fallen from the book she’d pulled off the shelf.
Stepsister, to be accurate. Kelly had been killed in a car accident years ago, taking with her any chance of true happiness Marlena could hope for.
Kelly had been strangled by hatred and jealousy toward Marlena from the day Marlena was born. A practicing witch, Kelly came up with a curse that wouldn’t allow Marlena to find love or happiness with any man. The curse doomed Marlena to fall insanely in love with any man she slept with—and ensured that no man would ever love her back once that happened. And the curse was so complete and malicious, it promised that Marlena couldn’t fall in love with a man until she slept with him. Indeed, couldn’t have any feelings at all in that regard, would never feel that excitement of falling for someone, the way she did when she was a teenager, before the curse was cast.
Thus, for Marlena, se
x had always been something completely out of her control—the thing that would cause her emotions to plummet wildly. She’d been lucky enough to find ACRO years earlier—or, more accurately, they’d found her after some of her modeling photos caught their attention. She’d immediately felt at ease with Dev, and after she’d confessed the truth about her curse, he’d assured her that they wouldn’t stop searching for a way to break it.
And he’d promised that no matter what, she would always be safe at ACRO.
She’d agreed to join then, because she’d been scared and alone and because she’d instantly trusted Devlin.
In all the years since, he’d never let her down. He’d been a safe man for her—he’d given her a job as his executive assistant and he also let her satisfy him, and him her. Falling in love with him had been inevitable and painful, but Devlin had been gentle with her heart.
But now, with her new job as an ACRO Seducer, she defined sex on her terms. No intercourse, if possible. Controlling the man’s orgasms. She was the one who made all the rules, and thus she was able to keep men at a distance.
Though she hadn’t been at it long, becoming an ACRO Seducer could’ve been akin to a form of self-torture. Forced to use her sexuality in a way that could actually help people, Marlena took a chance on becoming a victim of the curse every time she went on a mission.
Of course, she made every effort to ensure that did not happen. Unlike most Seducers, whose specialized psychic talents required them to have sex with their targets in order to gather intel, Marlena could rely on her beauty and flirting skills to pry the information out of her mark, so sexual relations were unnecessary. She knew how to make a man go ga-ga over her, and for some ops, it was—and would be—enough. On other missions, she’d use her other talents, because a lot of men would give up their mothers for an amazing blow job.
Up until this point, she’d been on four small jobs—training missions that required sexual skills but had put her in no real physical danger. The goal had been to see if she could finally resist falling in love with any man she slept with. She’d been hypnotized by ACRO’s best, prodded by their scientists and sent out with high hopes for all her missions.