by Alyssa Day
“Tiernan and Grace should leave, as well,” Alexios said, scowling at Grace to forestall the inevitable protest.
“And I will, if things change,” Grace said, surprising Brennan, who had not expected the warrior woman to agree to abandon the fight. “You know I will.” She touched Alexios’s scarred cheek briefly and smiled up at him. “But now I need to hide my weapons in my coat, get to the bar, set up to pour drinks for science geeks, and hope they’re anxious to spill their evil secrets to a friendly ear.”
“Your ear had better be all that’s friendly,” Alexios growled.
Grace laughed as she headed for the door. “Right. You want to try that again, naked-woman toucher?”
Then she was gone, the door shutting behind her before Alexios could respond.
“We should be going, too. We’re signed on for the midnight to six A.M. shift,” Lucas said, glancing at his watch.
“You go. I’ll be right there,” Alexios said.
After Lucas left the room, Alexios wasted no time getting to the point. “You,” he said, pointing at Brennan. “What in the nine hells is going on?”
He turned to Tiernan. “What or who was biting you?” Before Brennan could react to the fury that seared through his veins at the reminder that someone had hurt his woman—no, not his woman, only in his dreams would she ever be his woman—had hurt Tiernan, she again seemed to recognize what he needed and took his hand.
“It wasn’t as bad as you’re making it sound. In fact, I think we have an ally. The problem is that I’m not sure who he was, although I have my suspicions,” she began. She quickly told them of her encounter with the cryptic vampire.
“You think it could be this Devon?” Brennan asked, still holding tightly to her hand. Her touch calmed the monstrous rage that threatened to consume him at the thought of her in danger.
“I don’t know. Either Devon, or someone who works with or for him. And I have to admit, the car is a slim lead. Maybe it was his chauffeur or maybe the vamp had nothing at all to do with the car. He did fly over that hedge pretty easily. After all, it doesn’t really make a lot of sense that the vampire slated to be the big dog over this entire region would suddenly decide to sabotage his own evil plans.”
Alexios shrugged, then shot a pointed look at their joined hands. “We can only speculate until we have more evidence. On a more practical note, can you two work together? Clearly your emotions are back, in a big way, Brennan. I very nearly didn’t even recognize your call on the mental pathway, it was so tangled up with rage and”—he glanced at Tiernan, then shrugged again, ducking his head—“other things.”
“It would be safer for Tiernan if she were to leave this place,” Brennan said slowly, although each word burned him like salt water poured over an open wound.
“Not a chance, buddy,” Tiernan snapped, wrenching her hand out of his. “Curse or no curse, you’re stuck with me. We’ll figure out the parameters of how far apart we can get, for how long, later. Or, actually, probably pretty soon, because I’m going to have to, um, use the ladies’ room. But this is my story and I’m staying.”
Alexios’s eyes widened comically. “I can tell this is going to be interesting. Later. I’ve got to get to work. Check in with me from the party.”
Brennan nodded and stepped forward to clasp Alexios’s arm. “I will watch over your woman at the reception. You have my word.”
Alexios laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Grace can watch over herself, but thanks for the backup. Watch over your own woman, while you’re at it. I have a feeling she might be the best thing to happen to you in a very long time.”
Tiernan rolled her eyes. “Watch the ‘my woman, your woman’ stuff, boys, or it’s going to be a very long night.”
Alexios just laughed again and left. After Brennan closed the door behind him, he leaned against it and studied Tiernan for so long her cheeks turned pink and she got that delightfully indignant expression on her face again.
“What now?”
“I was just thinking how appealing the prospect of a very long night, spent entirely with you, is to me,” he said, allowing every bit of his hunger for her to show in his face and voice. His cock hardened just at the idea of it. Tiernan, naked. He suddenly desperately wanted to remove every stitch of her clothing and memorize every inch of her body.
In patient, loving detail.
She shook her head, and disappointment knifed through him as if his painfully volatile emotions had actually held out hope that she’d offer to strip down and star in his most erotic fantasies.
“What am I going to do with you? No, don’t answer that,” she said, shaking her head. “Right now, we need to solve a very mundane problem: how can I go to the bathroom without your curse kicking in? Because there is no way you’re going to watch me pee.”
Chapter 8
Tiernan’s face heated up when she realized what she’d just said, but unfortunately she was past the point of niceties in regard to her need for the facilities. It had been a long drive and a lot of caffeine to get there.
She glanced at him, hoping her hair covered most of her almost certainly fire-engine red cheeks. He was either shocked speechless or trying not to laugh at her, either of which was fine. Hey, it was even deserved, but still not solving the problem. “Look,” she said. “Surely the curse can’t kick in just in the two minutes it will take me behind that door.”
His smile disappeared, fast, and the lines in his face deepened as he stared at first her, then the door. “I do not know, and I am unwilling to take the chance, with so little time before we must make an appearance. Are you truly so concerned for your privacy in the face of what is at risk?”
“Well, when you put it that way—” she snapped, but then a thought occurred. “Poseidon didn’t know much about modern technology back in the day, did he?”
“I don’t understand.”
She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of herself. “Here, hold this and look at my face. I’ll be back in two minutes. Less, even.”
She slapped the phone in his hand and ran for the bathroom door. “You can talk to me if you need to hear my voice. Look at my picture and talk to me, okay?”
“You look quite distressed in this picture,” he said slowly, as she slammed the door and yanked her jeans down, all but hopping on one foot.
“That’s one word for it,” she muttered. Quickly she took care of business, washed her hands, and pulled the door open with wet hands before even grabbing the towel, not wanting to push her luck. “Here I am again. See how fast that was? You’re fine, aren’t you?”
He slowly raised his head, and his eyes were emerald fire, burning through her. “I’m not sure,” he said slowly. “I do remember you, but the photograph is not sufficient. The edges of your existence began to fade in my mind, even as I gazed at your likeness on this device. I do not believe technology will solve this dilemma between us. A piece of metal and wire is no match for the curse of a god.”
She took her phone back, gently prying his shaking fingers away. “So we’ve reached the limit, but we didn’t pass it,” she said, keeping her tone light. “That’s a relief. Some things a woman just wants to do on her own.”
But she realized not just his hands were shaking. His entire body was shuddering, and he reached out for her. She went unhesitatingly into his embrace. He pulled her against him and tightened his arms until she gasped.
“Brennan, I’m having a hard time breathing here,” she said, laughing a little.
He loosened his hold a fraction and put a hand under her chin, pulling her head up until their gazes locked. “Then let me breathe for you.”
He lowered his head and took her lips in a hard, almost desperate kiss. Heat shot through her with the intensity of a flash fire in the forest; she clutched at his shoulders when her knees threatened to give way. Nothing mattered but that he keep kissing her, keep devouring her mouth with his own. An explosion of pure sensation sizzled through her body, sensitizing
every inch of her skin. She wanted to cling to him; climb inside him; ride his hot, hard body until the desperate need was sated.
Suddenly, she realized she was rubbing against his body like a cat, and she pulled away from him, shocked and a little frightened by the depth of her hunger.
“Brennan,” she whispered, but he kept kissing her. Her neck, her face, her lips again. She pushed against his chest and managed to speak up a little louder. “Brennan. Stop.”
He stopped kissing her but still held her loosely, as he drew in deep, ragged breaths. “I am not sure I will survive a reunion with you after more than a two-minute parting,” he finally managed. “I am sorry I keep mauling you like a clumsy youngling.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure exactly why this keeps happening, but it’s definitely mutual.”
A slow, dangerous smile spread over his face, and her knees threatened to buckle again. The man was pure seduction. “Had I known that emotions would be so incredibly threatening to my control, I am not sure I would have wished for their return. And yet, for the opportunity to hold you in my arms, I would surrender everything I own. Is this how the rest of the world feels all of the time? If so, how do you survive it?”
She tried to answer him, had to swallow past the blockage in her throat, and then finally was able to speak. “No. I mean, yes,” she said, her voice husky. “Emotions are threatening my control with you, too, but we have a job to do, and this is so complicated, and—”
“Should we go, then? I must change my clothing to something more formal. I believe a tuxedo is required.” He released her, his face again impassive, betraying nothing of what he said he’d been feeling just seconds ago.
Neat trick.
She tried it herself, but was doubtful of her success, since she was still trembling the tiniest bit. “Yes. Except, where are we going?”
“The reclusive billionaire who has donated half a million to the cause, with more to come, surely has a suite reserved for him in this hotel,” he said dryly. “Will you determine if this is the case?”
She nodded, not completely trusting her own voice, and turned toward the phone on the desk, smiling to herself when she caught him running a hand roughly through his hair.
Everything he owned to hold her in his arms, he’d said. She picked up the phone, an entirely different kind of warmth spreading through her body. A warmth that felt almost like home.
Naturally, she couldn’t trust it.
The desk clerk picked up on the first ring. “How may I help you, Ms. Baum?”
She told him.
“Of course we have Mr. Brennan’s suite ready. Should we send someone to meet him there?”
She took the room number, thanked the clerk, and hung up the phone. “I’m guessing we’re getting dressed in your room?”
“Lucas arranged for suitable clothing to be delivered there. You will bring your belongings and come with me?” A hint of desperation sounded underneath the calm, even tones of his voice, and when she nodded, grabbing her backpack, she couldn’t miss his relief.
“I believe we have a party to attend,” he said. He took her suitcase and opened the door, scanning the hallway before gesturing to her to lead the way.
“A party to attend,” she repeated. “Can’t wait.”
She wondered if she was trying to convince him—or herself.
Brennan scanned his new hotel suite, noting the proximity of windows to the bed. Any attack would come from there; any intruders would smash through the glass and attack sleeping guests before they had a chance to wake up.
Well enough. He didn’t plan on sleeping in that bed.
Tiernan had spent several minutes scanning the room with a small electronic device before telling him the room was free of electronic surveillance. They must be very sure of his compliance, then. He smiled at the thought.
Tiernan blinked. “So that was a scary smile. What are you thinking about?”
“Scientists who overestimate themselves.”
She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t pursue it. “Well, you can at least turn your back while I get dressed,” Tiernan said, tossing her backpack on the bed. “That surely won’t be long enough to set off the curse.” She sat down on the edge and pulled off her shoes. “Right?”
His mind suddenly stuttered to a stop at the sight of Tiernan sitting on the very bed he’d just dismissed. “What?”
She dropped her second foot on the floor and shot him an exasperated look. “Dressed. You. Me. Turning our backs. Right?”
“Dressed?”
Tiernan sighed. “Okay. What’s going on in that scary Atlantean mind of yours?”
He closed his eyes. There was no help for it. The only way to regain his power of speech was not to see the woman Poseidon himself had declared Brennan’s one true mate sitting on a bed.
His bed.
His woman.
He closed his eyes even tighter and started humming.
“You’re freaking me out here, but—wait. Is this your plan? Okay, hold that position for two minutes.”
He heard rustling noises, and the images his mind conjured of her removing her clothes were too much for him to bear. He dared to open his eyes just a small bit and was rewarded by an expanse of the smooth silky skin of Tiernan’s back as she pulled a froth of sparkly fabric the color of crushed rubies over her head. She smoothed the dress into place and turned around, catching him drinking in the sight of her.
“You were supposed to close your eyes,” she said accusingly.
He slowly shook his head. “You are beautiful beyond the dreams of the gods. I will never willingly miss any opportunity to see your body, clothed or bare.”
He watched, fascinated, as a rosy flush swept up her cheeks. “It bothers you to hear that you are beautiful?”
“No. Thank you for the compliment. But it bothers me that we’re supposed to be doing a job and we’re talking about bare bodies.” She folded her arms under her far-too-exposed breasts, which were barely covered by the silky fabric. “Get dressed or I’m going by myself.”
“You will wear that? Into a room filled with men?” Instantly the unfamiliar rage and jealousy burned through him, and he wanted to put his fist through the wall. Or through someone’s face. Anyone who would dare to stare at her breasts or her impossibly long legs in that far-too-clinging dress.
She narrowed her eyes. “I will wear whatever I want. And you have two minutes to get ready, or I’m gone.”
Rummaging in her bag again, she pulled out a lipstick and then glanced up at him. “Still standing there? One minute, fifty-five seconds. You’d better believe I’m not kidding about this. Move, already.”
He believed her. He moved.
Lucas had arranged for the proper clothing, so he quickly changed into the tuxedo hanging in the closet, not daring to look back and see whether or not she was watching him. She had to help him with the unfamiliar tie, and he practiced breathing exercises while her delicate hands touched his neck. It was the only way he could keep from tossing her lovely ass on that inviting bed and spending the rest of the night learning the topography of every lush curve.
“This is going to be a very long night,” he said, trying to hold his breath so as not to be further tortured by the delicate floral scent of her hair.
“You think?” She finished the tie and stood back to admire her handiwork. “So far, my day has been all leisure and bonbons. Shall we go to a party? Vampires, evil scientists, and probably enthralled shape-shifters. How bad could it be?”
He laughed, but it came out sounding grim. “How bad, indeed?”
Her smile faded. “You know, by now I should know better than to say things like that. It’s tempting fate.”
Brennan just nodded. He knew far more than most about tempting fate, and none of it was good.
A very, very long night.
Chapter 9
Devon smoothed the lapels of his tuxedo jacket as he gazed around the hotel conference room, his expression givi
ng away nothing of the distaste he felt for these self-interested scum. His eyes were covered by the wraparound dark glasses he preferred, which further hid his disgust. Many considered the oversized glasses to be merely affectation. He was glad to let them think it; better that than the truth. A disguise was less effective when known to be one.
The five vampires who had fought for so long and argued so bitterly against any type of collaboration were the very same here to take full advantage now that the consortium was in effect.
Schemers and users. Power-mad and weak both, a most unpleasant combination. Quick to change sides to grovel and flatter the more powerful; quicker to stake you in the back if you fell.
The door opened and the worst of the bunch walked in. Litton. The human. The man might actually be clinically insane. A man who would betray his own kind to the monsters who wanted to enslave them—he was indeed a valuable ally.
And he was also a traitor to be continually watched—and immediately destroyed—at the first hint that he’d turned his traitorous ways against the vampires funding his research.
The obsequious cockroach scuttled up to him, bobbing his head, a grimace of fear mixed with triumph plastered all over his face. Devon clenched his teeth just a little to keep the sneer off his face. “Dr. Litton.”
“Mr. Devon, I’m thrilled to be able to inform you that Mr. Brennan is here. Our generous benefactor himself,” Litton said, all but rubbing his hands together in a caricature of a mad scientist from a film.
“Brennan. Yes, I know that name.” Devon said, remembering the last time he’d seen the man, but keeping his own counsel. “What do we have to show him for his half million?”
“We’ve got the model lab all set up,” Litton said, not quite daring to meet Devon’s eyes. “Just as you said.”
One of the oldest vampires in the room, in fact one of the oldest vampires still roaming the earth, slammed a fist down on the conference table. This one called himself Mr. Jones, although Devon supposed that when you were that old and that powerful, you could call yourself anything you liked.