ShiftingHeat

by Lynne Connolly

  He leaned over her to grab a handful of tissues from the box on her desk and held them to her pussy as he withdrew. Liquid left her body in a warm gush. She reached down to take the bundle from him, allowing him to zip up, grateful he’d thought of the results of their impetuous lovemaking. “Thanks for that. I don’t have a change of clothes here. I can get a shower though.”

  “Not without me.”

  She wiped herself and pulled up her underwear, trying to act insouciant. “You know what will happen if we share a shower.”

  He turned away, running a hand over his hair, flicking the heavy lock at the front behind one ear. It made him look almost boyish. How could she let a convert, barely into manhood, turn her inside out like this? How did he do it? “I know. You can always come back with me. I have an apartment at STORM.”

  “How did you manage that?”

  He shrugged. “They wanted me. You know how hard it is to get a decent place to live in the city. And besides—” He indicated the crutches with a careless wave of his hand. “At the time, they weren’t a prop.”

  “What was it, what did you have?” She knew she shouldn’t ask, but he wouldn’t tell her unless she made a point of it.

  “I had Becker’s. It’s a form of muscular dystrophy. Not as fast acting as Duchenne but the result’s the same. You live, you get progressively worse, you die. When I was converted it was pretty bad, it’d gotten worse fast. They helped me, gave me a place to stay and something else to think about. I don’t have the savings or the resources some shape-shifters do. I needed the job.”

  She wanted to give STORM some credit, try to believe what he was telling her or at least listen with an open heart. “Is that why you were converted? To save your life?”

  He shrugged. “No. I didn’t want it. It didn’t seem fair, somehow. I was on a waiting list, but I didn’t ask for any special privileges. But then it became inevitable. A mission went wrong and the person who converted me was left with a split-second decision.”

  By the way he turned away, she knew she wasn’t going to get any more today. She had to satisfy herself with that. But it explained a lot. Why he looked so young, younger than his age, even. Long-term illness would sometimes do that. And why she sensed a lack of confidence in him sometimes and a touch of awkwardness between him and his dragon. He was still getting used to the change.

  She turned abruptly and caught sight of herself in the small mirror in the corner of the room. Hair tousled, lips red from kisses, eyes still dilated in the aftermath of two devastating orgasms—shit, anybody seeing her now would know for sure what she’d been doing. She needed that shower. “There are showers here we can use.”

  “So you live in town too.”

  “No. There’s a facility upstairs. A small gym and showers. There shouldn’t be anyone about.”

  “You’ll be perfectly safe in my apartment.” He paused. “If that’s what you want.”

  She took a deep breath. The idea of sharing a shower with him, a long, hot shower in more ways than one—she pushed the thought away. Ideas like that weakened her resistance to him. Even now she felt him pushing, urging her to open more. But she wouldn’t. He’d seen enough, had enough. “I can’t. I have a meeting to attend in half an hour.”

  “Faculty?”

  “No.” She’d have to tell him. “The Fairness Society.”

  Andros heard her words with a sense of dull doom. In his research to discover her whereabouts he’d seen the name and done a little investigation. Of all the societies to attend, this wouldn’t be on his list of favorites. “Why the fuck are you going there? Don’t you want to hear me out?” Ostensibly the society was formed to protest compulsory registration for Talents. But in the quick search he’d done in STORM archives, he’d discovered disturbing stuff. The society was under observation for subversive activities. The report he saw didn’t detail the kind of subversion, but it was flagged and given a higher security setting. Although he had the clearance, Andros hadn’t had the time to investigate further. But the fact that it was flagged meant it was an ongoing investigation.

  With any luck, he’d meet an agent there. Because one thing was for sure—for the foreseeable future, where she went, so did he. He wanted answers. Why had she stolen his ankle bracelet? Just getting it back wasn’t enough.

  She put up her chin defiantly. “I promised I’d go. Harken Nordheim is speaking.” She stared at him as if she expected a reaction. Did she think he knew the name? He’d have to disappoint her because it didn’t ring any bells. Maybe if he’d taken more time and clicked on the link at STORM, he’d have seen the name. Too late now. She wouldn’t wait for him to establish a secure connection and get there. “You should listen to what he’s going to say. You might learn something.”

  He was going, though not to be converted. “I’m willing to listen.”

  He glanced in the mirror, smoothed his hair into some semblance of order. Thank fuck for tousled hairstyles. Although hers was probably too tousled even for that. He grinned. He’d helped to cause that. “Lead me to the showers, then.”

  The showers were utilitarian but serviceable, the water hot enough. They took a swift shower, sadly not together, and he kept his mind firmly locked to the gap he’d found in hers, the gap he’d created when they’d made love for the first time. No, fucked. They’d fucked. Only he’d thought of it as making love—she obviously hadn’t. Doing it this time hadn’t confirmed anything for him though, except that she could prove addictive. He wanted her again and he couldn’t see it ending anytime soon. Not that he saw any future in this. Not if she insisted on believing that the agents at STORM were scum.

  He shut off the trickle of water when it turned lukewarm and grabbed the towel, rubbing it vigorously over his body, for all the good that did him. The fabric soaked through fast and he wished he’d taken another. University-provided towels were worse than he remembered.

  Not that he’d attended this establishment for long. But the university, keen to have him come back, had given him the opportunity of doing his doctoral research here. However this mission turned out, he intended to take it. Today he’d assured them that his MD had stabilized, that the move from the West Coast had just upset him for a time. Eventually he’d come clean, but since his disability had nothing to do with his research and he intended to refuse any privileges they offered him to help with his condition, he felt no need to fess up yet. Because at the moment, with the Fairness Society in view, his crutches would prove an asset. He could go to this meeting and nobody would suspect he was Talented.

  Then he received a telepathic message from someone he knew well. Get out here, I need to talk to you.

  What was Johann doing here?

  It didn’t take Andros long to dress, even though his jeans and T-shirt snagged on his still-damp body. He’d be sure to take a decent shower when he got home. He exited the showers, crutches in hand, to find his brother-in-law waiting just outside. Faye couldn’t get out without passing him. This was the only exit, apart from a fire door that would scream its objections if she tried to get out that way. But just in case, he kept his mind linked with hers.

  “Hey, kid.”

  From most people he’d hate the moniker, but from his brother-in-law he could take it. Big, bad Johann Kovacs leaned against the wall, his broad shoulders propped against it, at ease.

  Andros grinned. “Hey. Are you here for a reason?”

  “You hear what went down last night?”

  Andros shrugged. “Some fuss, but nobody asked me so I came here to register.” His heart sank. The game was up and the fuss at STORM did involve his missing ankle bracelet, after all. At least he had it back in his possession now.

  “Right.” Johann ran his hand through his hair, ruffling the dark curls. It didn’t make him any less dangerous-looking. “They might want you on board. Someone broke in and freed the professor.”

  “That a street name or something?”

  “Nope. He really is a professor. Professor H
arken Nordheim, to be precise. He’s been causing big trouble.”

  Johann raised a brow and Andros understood. He didn’t want to talk here. But vampires had telepathy during the day, the only power to survive the onset of the sun. You want to talk like this?

  He felt a stirring in his mind. Faye was dressing. She wouldn’t be long. He checked his watch. “No time, bro. I’m going to the Fairness Society meeting with Faye.”

  Johann didn’t ask him who Faye was, which probably meant he knew already.

  “Okay.” But be warned. Whatever he says, we’re taking him in. There could be trouble so stay clear. Look after Faye and get her back to STORM. That’s your job, and kid, if you were wondering, you are now definitely part of this operation.

  Shit, so it was all about this Nordheim man. “Okay. I’ll see you back there.”

  If he knows we’re coming he’ll be out of that place, so don’t rile him. Did you know Nordheim from before?

  What does he teach?

  American history.

  Andros laughed. Do I look like a history student?

  Johann had the grace to grin. Do I look like a World War One soldier?

  Andros saluted him and Johann saluted back, his much better than Andros’ amateur gesture. Point. No, computer science. I thought I’d revive my studies now I’ve got a handle on the whole dragon thing and if I leave it much later to enroll, I’ll pass the deadline.

  Sounds like a good idea.

  And Ann, is she angry?

  Let me see. Somebody steals an ankle bracelet, enters the building, frees a prisoner and they both get the hell out. Angry is an understatement, bro. Livid is closer. Incandescent, maybe.

  Oh fuck. He should have known better, to think nobody had worked out whose security bracelet Faye had used. Because it had to be her. She’d wanted that bracelet to get Nordheim out and she’d done it. Which meant one of two things. Either Faye was much more formidable than he’d imagined, or…no, it couldn’t be that. Either way, when he got back there’d be hell to pay.

  She must be furious, to get a vampire out in the daytime.

  Johann raised a brow. Trained agent here. I can look after myself.

  Looking at Johann’s brawny frame, Andros didn’t doubt that for a minute. He’d seen the vampire in action and he was formidable enough in the daytime. Some vampires kept to night shifts since most of their powers only emerged at sundown, and melted away with the dawn. Johann didn’t give a shit. He had other talents to make up for his lack of Talent during the day.

  Andros felt her approach. Faye’s coming. Do you want to meet her?

  Not yet. “See you.”

  “Yeah.”

  I’ve got your back, kid.

  Andros wasn’t sure if that was entirely a good thing in the circumstances. But if this was a mission, he’d better do what he was told. Look after Faye and get her back to STORM after the meeting. She was complicit in Nordheim’s escape. He still wasn’t sure what STORM wanted the professor for, but that they wanted him was enough for now.

  When she exited the showers, he was alone. He flashed a grin. “Thanks. I didn’t want to have to come after you.”

  She shrugged. “I’m just glad you’ve decided to come to the meeting.”

  Andros avoided her gaze, pulled his watch out of his pocket and strapped it on, glancing at the time as he did so. “We’d better go. Is this an exploratory meeting, the kind clubs have at the beginning of term that lets nonmembers come in for free?”

  “Sort of.” She tugged at the sleeve of her pullover. As yet the days were still mild, but perhaps she felt the cold. Or maybe he’d marked her T-shirt and she was using it as a cover-up. Whatever, that color suited her. A mid-green, like a shamrock. Brought out the red glints in her silky hair. He still wanted to wrap the swath around his wrist and use it to drag her close for a kiss.

  He must be going insane.

  Instead, he snagged his crutches and shoved his forearms into the cuffs. The action had been so familiar until relatively recently. A few months since his conversion, that was all. It still came naturally to take the stance, making sure he balanced his body properly between the supports, avoiding any strain on his back. “Shall we go?”

  The Fairness Society met in one of the smaller lecture halls. Andros wasn’t familiar with this building—the center of the humanities faculty and the Victorian edifice he’d recognized from the fleeting mental image Faye had unwittingly sent him in that crappy hotel room—but one lecture room was very much like another. The covered sockets on the floor, the chairs with the attached elbow desk, the central lectern and the whiteboard standing to one side all gave him a sense of security he knew was an illusion today.

  Talents abounded at this meeting but Andros sensed humans too. Nice of them to support the cause, even if they were wrong. They weren’t to know that.

  As they stood just inside the entrance a tall, handsome man with touches of gray at his temples approached them. From the stir around him, Andros guessed he was Nordheim. He met his gaze. The tall, strong mortal stared him down and Andros learned something else. This man was arrogant to the extreme and accepted adulation as his due. Had STORM turned him down once, to give him an excuse to spread so many lies? Or maybe he wanted to set himself up in opposition, parlay himself a political position. Andros quirked a brow at Faye. Hint, hint.

  She took it. “Andros, this is Professor Nordheim.”

  Andros nodded and smiled. Although he felt disinclined to take the man’s proffered hand, he managed it.

  Nordheim indicated his crutches. “You’re not a Talent?” The guy sent a probe into his mind, none too subtly, and Andros, a little more subtly, showed him only what he wanted to—a seeming jumble of emotions and reactions, like a picture made of words and images with no form. Johann had helped him create the illusion a while back, said it might come in useful if he went out into the field. Was Johann ever right about that.

  He shrugged. “As you can see. Faye suggested I come with her.”

  Nordheim glanced at Faye then back at Andros, and his supercilious expression said it all. Eyes half closed, a curl to his lips, everything asked her what she was doing with this loser. Andros wondered the same, but he didn’t refer to himself.

  “Hope you enjoy the talk. Although I’d guess you have enough on your plate without adding another campaign.”

  “Talents are like me, on the edge of society, marginalized,” Andros said. “I want to see if I can pick up any tips. Maybe an ally or two.”

  Nordheim raised a brow. “You might.” Though he looked at Andros as if he was a worm, something inferior. In Andros’ experience, Talents didn’t behave like that, but he supposed there had to be a few bad apples. Maybe more than a few. At any rate, he disliked this guy.

  And although he couldn’t send out his psi for fear of losing hold on his cover, everything about this man raised his hackles, told Andros that Nordheim would bat him aside as if he were a fly. Because the other thing he noticed was Nordheim wanted Faye. It was clear in his proprietary glances at her, in the way the man broadened his stance in an attempt to block Andros’ proximity to her while also invading her space. Once Nordheim moved away, Andros could relax a little, let at least his telepathy free. He needed to, in case Johann contacted him. But if he stayed in the mass of Talents here, no one should be able to identify the telepathic signal as his.

  Nordheim gave him a thin-lipped nod and strolled in the direction of the lecturer’s table. People moved aside or exchanged a word with him, tried to attract his attention, but he kept moving until he reached the table.

  The professor planted his hands and leaned forward as the crowd fell silent. Andros felt his presence, identified it and opened his psi, careful not to draw attention to himself.

  He felt Johann’s presence nearby. He hadn’t seen the vampire as he entered, but that wasn’t surprising given the press in this room and Johann’s ability to merge with others when he wanted to. Johann didn’t say anything but kept his
presence steady.

  “Last night I was in the STORM building,” Nordheim began. “And it wasn’t from choice.” A few gasps came in response. “I was arrested and taken in for questioning. It seems that STORM doesn’t like my revealing certain truths, things they’d rather keep hidden.”

  Andros thought of some of the secrets he’d worked on since he started with STORM. Yeah, that was true, as far as it went. But revealing those truths could hurt people. There was always a good reason, as far as he’d seen, and he’d seen plenty. STORM had saved his life, and Johann personally had saved his sister’s life and then promised to love, honor and obey her for the rest of his life.

  Nordheim scanned the crowd, especially the people at the front. His own personal mosh pit, Andros guessed. A man as arrogant as that would cultivate acolytes. “They stripped my mind, or rather, they started the process. They sent one of their Sorcerers.” A grin twisted the corner of his mouth. “But I have my own tricks. I resisted.” He got a smattering of applause for that. “I got out.” More applause. “It wasn’t easy.” Andros’ lips thinned. It would have been a fuck of a lot harder without Faye and what she did for this bastard. Even if she’d asked him to keep quiet, he shouldn’t take the credit for something he hadn’t done. Maybe said someone had helped him, something like that. The denial stuck in his craw. “They want to stop me and people like me taking the fight to Congress. They’d like the law put through nice and easy. The law that says that shape-shifters should be treated like the animals they are.”

  Big applause there. Andros felt Johann’s disgust, then the vampire sent him a few words. You have me, Serena Duval, a Sorcerer, and Ricardo Gianetti here. Nick Ivy is standing by to fly him out. We’ll take care of Nordheim. We won’t take him here, where his Talented worshippers will start a fight, we’ll do it afterward. You concentrate on the woman and call us if you need help. Clear?