Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3)

by HK Savage

  “Don’t they realize what that was?” Becca looked to Michael beside her, not minding his arm at her back now as he propelled her through the thickening crowd.

  “It wasn’t loud enough for most humans to hear and those who did don’t want to believe it’s real. They want to think traffic accident or construction.”

  Becca glanced up to catch his eye. He nodded at the question in her eyes.

  “People don’t want to think bomb. Not here.” Eyes turned front again and he maneuvered them around a fast moving cluster of men in suits going the same direction. “Unless they’ve seen action before.”

  Becca noted the way their suit coats pulled and stretched over wide shoulders and tapered in at trim waists. Operators, they moved in well practiced unison toward the explosion. Toward Pennsylvania Avenue.

  A phone rang.

  “Sir,” Michael had his phone to his ear. “We heard it, we’re heading that way now.” Lips tightened, his feet slowed. “Any thoughts on who might be responsible?” Pause. “Right. See you in a few minutes.”

  “What’s going on, Mike?” Ryan dog trotted closer to their commanding officer. The others closed ranks to hear. Becca remained pressed to his side, their brisk pace taxed her already failing body and she naturally sought support from the one she was becoming all too dependent upon.

  Michael grunted and came to a stop, eyes trained on the chaotic scene they found once they hit the street. The unit cloistered, eyes aimed out. Law enforcement; uniformed and plain black suits moved through the stationary and slow moving clusters toward the source of the sound. A bomb on US soil. Those who knew enough to fear more were on its way moved in the opposite direction. Tourists gawked, hands over brows they tried to see what happened over the back and forth crowds. Phones were up and filming. Good to know the apocalypse would be well documented when its time came.

  “Black.” Michael’s voice brought all eyes back to him.

  “How does he know already? Half the town is still eating lunch.” Kenneth shook his head.

  “We’re dialed into the same networks as our top agencies,” Ryan said, not hiding the pride behind his words. When he was back at the estate it wasn’t uncommon for him to station himself at the helm of their second to none monitoring programs.

  “What was hit?” Gabrielle asked, all business.

  “Private car heading back to The Hill.”

  Becca felt her stomach clench. Somehow she already knew. “No,” she said softly.

  “Senator Bill Jordan. Car bomb.”

  Swallowing hard, Becca felt the prick of tears behind her eyes and the telling sting in her nose.

  Ryan cursed and Gabrielle crossed her arms.

  Kenneth checked his watch. “Now what?”

  Becca seemed the only one offended by the cold question. From a tactical perspective she could agree, but as a human she wanted to bite him. The feel of his skin giving way under her teeth, the warm spill of blood in her mouth. Saliva coated her tongue and Becca’s lip curled. She took one step, then two. One more and she would be close enough to attack. Her hand reached out for his thin neck.

  “What the hell?” Gabrielle stepped back, watching.

  Michael moved fast, slapping her hand away just before it made contact with Kenneth’s flesh. Following her body’s spin from his connection, Michael wrapped his arms around her and walked them several feet away. Curling her into him, he put a hand to the back of her head and pushed her face into his neck.

  She gasped, shocked by the sudden redirection, and her nose was filled with the scent of him. Earthy vampire mixed with male. A scent she associated with love and sex. Mouth open, she ran her tongue up the side of his neck and groaned.

  “Becca, love, not here,” he whispered against her ear. “Fight it.”

  Her answer was a frustrated whimper. But she fought it down, the vampire influence threatening to take her over one impulse at a time.

  Feeling her gain control, Michael’s hold loosened and he kissed her cheek gently as he let her go. One arm remained around her back, whether offering support or in preparation of another freakout she couldn’t be sure.

  “You got one crazy witch there, Michael,” Kenneth taunted. Becca watched his features twist in his cruelty. “Does the admiral know how close she is to breaking? Maybe he’ll put her out to pasture to rot like he does his other failed experiments.” Eyes wide, mouth gaping in feigned horror, he held up a hand covering the poisonous opening in feigned shock. “Or maybe she’s too far gone and he’ll have to retire her.” He let the hand drop and leaned in. “Maybe he’ll even makeyou do it.”

  Beside her, Becca felt Michael’s entire body go tight. “You sure you want to get into a debate about who’s near breaking, Williams. Admiral Black hasn’t decided what to do with you yet, it might beyour neck I have the pleasure of snapping. Soon.”

  A shadow crossed behind pale green eyes before clearing and he smiled. “All I have to do is be less of a problem than that one.” He pointed at Becca. “And you’re burying that sweet piece of ass.”

  Body locked tight, she could feel Michael struggling with himself.Black too. He won’t let Michael mess with his plans.The thought sent ice burning through her veins. Looking up, she spotted a drop of blood about to fall from his nose. Her hand pressed to his chest.

  “Michael, please. You won’t have to do it. I can control this.” Her hand pressed harder on his firm chest, determined to get his attention. “I promise.”

  At that he turned to her, unblinking. Vampires didn’t have the need to blink like their human counterparts but Becca still found the unblinking gaze unnerving. Michael did not perform his usual kindness of breaking off to ease her discomfort. No, it appeared every ounce of his control was tied up with an internal struggle for control being micromanaged by the admiral.

  A drop of blood fell, then another.

  Black was winning.

  “Michael, please,” Becca whispered, knowing the others could hear, not caring.

  The tables had turned. It was Becca’s job to keep Michael from coming to harm at Black’s hands, not the other way around. His need to protect her could not endanger him. How could the concept of a life lived without him be any more soul crushing? With the heavy blanket of guilt woven by the knowledge it washerwho brought the heavy hand of Admiral Black down to destroy this beautiful man she loved. Her eyes fell to the ground.

  One black leather encased foot slid forward, dragged against the will of the true master of his body. Panicked, Becca’s eyes flew upward. Taking in the strong curve of his jaw she felt a flutter in her belly. One that her mind knew wasn’t healthy. She didn’t have the energy within her to carry through with the urge, though its pull was undeniable.

  The thigh pressed against her own shifted against her and his body pushed her back. Toward Kenneth. Toward his own death. Crimson slid down, following the pale curve of her beloved’s face and landed on her nose. The oddly cool liquid on her skin pushed Becca, much as Kenneth’s last barbs had done to Michael.

  Left with no other options, she let the influence of the vampire’s blood, that which would most likely leave her dead or comatose inside a month, run.

  The influence took over, all logical thought fled taking her sense of public decency with it. Sirens faded, the frantic pedestrians surrounding them were no more. All she knew was hunger. An all consuming physical need to take everything she could from him regardless of who might be watching.

  The hand pressed to his pectoral softened, no longer aiming to stop him but to entice. The other, the one she’d held to his abs slid round and fingertips wiggled, lifting the material from his body so she could send it down until flesh met flesh. Her fingers quirked, nails lightly raking the skin of cheek under denim. Lifting up onto her toes, Becca snaked her tongue out. Tracing that same curve she’d been eyeing, taste buds registered iron. Instead of being put off she felt something inside her come to life. Inside her stomach something rolled, like a snake unfurling from its winter
sleep to greet the sun it stretched.

  Hunger, pure and strong, drove Becca. No thoughts allowed. Arms locked his body to hers, she couldn’t lose him. If she did she knew with everything in her she would expire on the spot. Mouth replaced tongue and she latched onto his chin, sucking and nipping as she cleaned the blood from it then moved up to his lips. Lick, nibble, her body craved him. If she couldn’t satisfy one urge, she would feed another. Arms latched tighter and nails dug in. One leg looped around the back of his thigh locking her in place.Want.

  He groaned, chest vibrating under her.

  Desire ripped through her so fierce it hurt. A whimpered moan rattled her throat.

  Faintly, she became aware the cool arm wrapped around her back, hand spread wide to envelop her thigh and side of her ass had loosened. Frustrated, she pulled herself in tighter. Throwing her planted leg around the front of his she tried to climb him. A lumberjack she was not. Not even on a good day. Weakened as she was, Becca’s arms shook and she began to slide.

  Michael hissed in her ear, arms snapping under her pits to catch her as her feet hit ground and shaking legs buckled.

  No!The thing in her stomach surged. Becca wasn’t sure if she was going to vomit or something was going to break out of her abdomen like the infamous scene in that scifi classic.Want!The thing inside her shrieked. Hands clapped to her ears, Becca nearly went to her knees, eyes pinched tight.Take him! Take him!Her head felt like it was going to split. Her body was on fire. Becca’s mouth opened and she started to scream.

  Chapter 15

  She was moving. Humid air brushed her hair from her cheek like a warm hand, the other chafed against soft fabric. Her body curved in an awkward sideways spoon, feet not touching but hanging like a clock’s pendulum, swung with each step her carrier took. Becca inhaled, catching the fading scent of cherry blossoms, car exhaust, and Michael.

  Of course he carried her. There was a time when he would have allowed Ryan but more and more as she weakened he took her care upon himself. Much like the guilt he heaped upon his already over laden shoulders.

  Her body stopped swaying and her hair covered her face. The sounds of a crowd closed in and she smelled it. One never forgot the smell of another human’s body burning. Nor her own. Becca broke into a cold sweat and her pulse pounded in her ears.

  Her skin felt tight where her clothing touched her, painful as her scars made themselves known. The blood she’d consumed healed her flesh to most human eyes, but the damage inflicted had left its mark. Visible to the keen eyes of vampires and werewolves or some other supernatural creature. The sensitivity of her skin could have been from being burned or maybe it was due to her ingesting blood and being marked by a vampire’s bound servant. Would she see her family again before her mental decay made her a menace?

  “Hey.” His arm squeezed her tight, breaking her from the dark path her thoughts tumbled down. “Breathe through your mouth.”

  She nodded and parted her lips. After a few breaths her head began to clear. There was a hint of something tangy underneath the smell of burnt flesh. She focused on that. Bodies of onlookers pushed and jostled for a better view around her though thankfully, none touched her. Not a surprise, most humans gave vampires a wide berth without even realizing it, their avoidance instinctive. No sirens wailed, it didn’t matter the sounds of panic and conjecture would have covered them anyway.

  “What happened?”

  “Was that the president’s car?”

  “Who would dare?”

  Shock and the stirrings of panicked outrage colored the crowd’s statements.

  “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

  “What sort of person does that to someone?”

  It was time, she could put it off no longer. Opening her eyes, she lifted her head and took in the scene. Becca’s mouth fell open.

  Black SUVs formed roadblocks on three sides. Freedom Plaza’s open expanse was already lined by blue uniformed personnel, large men and severe looking women in suits. Guns on hips and dark sunglasses distinguished them from the civilian business types. That and the “don’t fuck with me. Don’t even talk to me” vibe they projected. Tourists and locals filled the spaces beyond the blockades, both human and machine. At the center the scene, Michael was right, not expected on American streets. On the news streamed in from Israel, Baghdad, Luhansk, sure. Not here. Definitely not Pennsylvania Avenue, the main street of American democracy.

  The twisted remains of a black Suburban burned, the flames and heat making the whole image shimmer like some sort of mirage. Only no amount of blinking and head shaking changed anything. It was real.

  “How many?” Her voice barely shook, her control was returning. Small favors.

  “The senator and his driver for sure,” Michael tipped his head, dropped his voice. His chest vibrated against her cheek reminding Becca of her body and how it was situated. She wiggled and he released her to slide down to the ground but his arm stayed firmly around her. Everything considered, she wasn’t going to argue. Her legs wobbled for a moment and she set her hip against his thigh. Twisting her head this way then that, Becca failed to see the faces or clothing of their team members.

  “They’re circulating, seeing what they can pick up.” He lifted his chin to look at something.

  Becca’s eyes followed his to the human line across from them on the lower steps of the plaza. Gabrielle’s blonde hair caught the sun as she wove through the crowd toward the front where two men stood with their heads together in front of the security line.

  She scanned from there to see Ryan, big enough he dwarfed most humans. Too bad he was casual today in jeans and a pale green tee. Put him in a suit and he could have infiltrated the defensive line easily.

  “Where’s Kenneth?”

  Michael’s chest expanded as he took in oxygen not because he needed it to respirate but to speak.

  “Right here.” The sound of his syrupy sweet voice just over her shoulder was enough to send a spasm of fear rippling through her stomach. Her just returning vision wavered.

  Michael’s hand tensed on the shoulder he grasped sending her a reminder of the strength supporting her.If he isn’t forced to kill me. He’ll fight it and Black will destroy him.The little reminder, accompanied by a visual of Michael’s bloodied face when he fought Black’s control that night in LA, stiffened her spine and rolled her stomach until she thought she would embarrass herself in public. Again. Shame helped her focus.

  “What are we looking at?” An audible swallow of nerves and maybe a little bile made her words thick.

  “An opportunity.” Kenneth oozed around her, his shoulder brushing hers just before Michael tightened his grip and pulled her abruptly into him.

  “Kenneth,” slipped from Michael’s clenched teeth just as the kinky haired devil spun to face them, deceptively soft green eyes gone wide in genuine shock.

  “What? Youcan’tsay no to your master?”

  Michael was hard muscle where they touched but otherwise gave nothing away. Becca’s gasp though, it gave him all the confirmation he needed.

  An odd, high pitched squeal sounded in his throat and he flashed his teeth.

  Becca’s throat closed off.

  “You really are his bitch, aren’t you Captain Rossi?” Kenneth’s eyes danced with glee and madness. “Got that sweet piece in competition with me and whoever the boss picks, you gotta take care of the loser.” His eyes swung to where Becca held her head away from Michael’s chest, alarm stealing what pathetic bit was left of her strength. Surely he could read her like a well worn manual. Kenneth’s head cocked and his eyes shifted back to Michael, narrowing. “How come you can’t fight him? I get not wanting to, but from what I heard it sounds like youcan’t. Now how does that work? How come you can’t at least put up a fight? Or how come that one,” he lifted his pointed chin at Becca without breaking from Michael’s steady gaze, “is thinking about you bleeding out if you do?”

  Something behind them hissed, a whistling noise that su
ddenly culminated in a loud bang as something on the car exploded. Another explosion quickly followed.

  Kenneth’s face moved like he was tempted to look but his intense scrutiny remained locked.

  “We have a job to do here,” Michael ground out. “Let’s save show and tell for later.”

  Kenneth frowned and started to open his mouth. Michael cut him off.

  “Keep in mind you’re supposed to be proving yourself here, Williams. Disobey my orders, Admiral Black’s orders, and you make his decision a hell of a lot easier. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to see you fuck yourself and end this whole thing here and now, but I’m under very specific orders from the admiral about what he wants from each of you while we’re here and, unlike you, I understand my orders.”

  Becca could see the wheels turning in the smaller man’s head, she could almost hear him parsing out what he’d seen and heard over the past few days, putting it into context with whatever it was he’d seen or heard by touching Becca in her moment of fear. From what she understood there were very few situations like Black’s and Michael’s so there was a chance Kenneth might not figure it out right away or at least not the extent to which Michael was bound to the admiral. Calling Black Michael’s “master” was too close for her comfort. She wondered if she could kill Kenneth if it came down to it. Michael or Kenneth?Wouldshe was a no brainer.Could she was the bigger question. He was a vampire and she merely a human, a pathetic excuse for one at present. A toddler or senior citizen could probably take her in a fight on a day like today. Kenneth would drain her and leave her dried out husk twitching on the floor. She was going to have to get her shit together and impress the admiral on this one so Michael could end him before he had a chance to figure it out and tell anyone.