Act of Brotherhood: Paranormal Security and Intelligence (PSI-Ops) an Immortal Ops World Novel

by Mandy M. Roth

  The burly Scot stood, holding the bowl of popcorn to his chest. Stray pieces of popcorn fell to the floor around him. “Och, I’ll have you know this was nae my idea. It was his.” He pointed to Gram.

  Gram made a pouty face. “Sure. Blame the sick guy.”

  Between the two of them, it was hard to understand half of what they were saying since they were both Scottish and proximity to another Scotsman seemed to intensify their brogues. At any moment they’d likely break out in songs dedicated to William Wallace, as both had been known to do in the past.

  James glanced at Auberi and Garth. A sigh came from him. “Really? The two of you are fighting? Again?”

  Auberi used the moment to deliver a rather well-placed punch to Garth’s face. “Yes.”

  Garth growled and gave James a dirty look for distracting him. “He started it.”

  “Do I have the two of you to thank for the mess in the infirmary in Lab D?” asked James, his arms crossing over his chest as he glared. The look on his face said he was tempted to give them both time-outs for bad behavior. That or join the sparring.

  “Aye,” said Striker and Gram at the same time.

  Garth and Auberi stared at the Scots and then shared a look. For that brief moment, they were on the same page.

  “Assholes,” said Garth.

  Auberi nodded and then he reassumed a fighting stance. That was fine by Garth. He more than wanted a piece of the asshole.

  Auberi made a sudden movement, faking an attack.

  “Weak,” yelled Gram.

  James laughed. “He’s not wrong.”

  Garth nearly fell for the faked attack because his mind had been elsewhere. “Just like the French, come out of the gate strong and then fold.”

  “Unlike the Vikings, who pillaged their way through how many lands?” returned Auberi, never one to back down.

  “Feed any innocent, helpless children your blood lately?” asked Garth, his mind still locked in a state somewhere between the past and present. He couldn’t get the little girl from long ago out of his head and he couldn’t stop worrying about Nicolette.

  Auberi’s gaze narrowed, and Garth knew he’d struck a nerve.

  Good.

  His lips curled as he continued to walk in a slow circle with Auberi mirroring his every move. They continued to watch one another, each prepped for the other to make a move. Already they bore injuries from their “friendly” sparring match.

  Garth could taste blood in his mouth from a recent hit Auberi had delivered. And Auberi’s jaw was turning an angry purple from the well-placed punch Garth had landed minutes before. They were evenly matched, which was part of the problem. Both were powerful in their own right. One a shifter. One a vampire.

  “Och, this is going nowhere fast,” Striker added from his chair while he ate popcorn again. He tried to give some to James, who in turn wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

  Auberi again seized the momentary distraction to punch Garth in the mouth.

  Garth’s head snapped back as blood dripped from his lip.

  Striker leaned back in the chair and reached for the scorecards on the table. He held up a sign that had the number six on it. The scoring went from one to ten, ten being the best. “I’ve seen better.”

  His partners in crime held up their votes as well.

  Miles “Boomer” Walsh’s sign had a five. “I’m with Asshole. I’ve seen better too. Put some effort behind it next time, Auberi.”

  Rurik lifted a sign with a four on it. “That hit looked weak. No real surprise. The vampire is French after all.”

  Garth spun around and elbowed Auberi in the gut. When the vampire bent, Garth struck him in the side of the face. His head whipped up and a challenge lit his eyes.

  The men judging them for sport all lifted sevens.

  Garth rolled his eyes.

  Boomer glanced at Rurik’s vote. “He’s your team captain. You should really give him more points because of that alone.”

  The Russian bear-shifter lifted a dark brow. “I did give him more because of that. My first vote was going to be a five.”

  Striker rubbed his beard. “Aye. Was my first thought too. I feel the elbow bit was verra showy. Screams ‘insecure with manhood.’”

  The others nodded in agreement.

  Boomer pushed his long blue-black hair from his face and winked at Garth. “Hit him once for me, okay?”

  Auberi gave Boomer the finger.

  “Yeah, that screams ‘classy and sophisticated,’” returned Boomer. “They’re going to take your French card away.”

  “But will they?” asked Striker. “That would involve confrontation, so I do nae know that they will ask for shite back.”

  Rurik grunted. “I hate the French.”

  “We don’t care much for you either.” Blaise poked his head up from the back of the training room, where he’d gathered several mats and was resting.

  Garth’s attention returned to Auberi. He stepped in his direction, but the vampire quickly changed his stance, clearly anticipating Garth’s next move.

  Asshole.

  The vampire tried to take Garth by surprise but failed.

  The men held up signs with zeroes on them.

  “Boring,” stated Boomer with a fake yawn. “We need more blood. The German is right. This is as fun as watching paint dry.”

  Striker lifted his arm out and did a dramatic motion while he gave them a thumbs-down. “If this was the arena, I’d have just signed yer death warrants.”

  “If this was ancient Rome, you’d be in a whorehouse, nowhere near the fights,” said Boomer.

  Gram snorted. “Praying his prick does nae develop a weird itch.”

  Striker thought on it, then nodded. “Aye. Guid point. I’ll let them live. For now.”

  With a sigh, Garth leveled a gaze on the Scot. “Go find something else to do. Like taking endless selfies and putting them on the internet. You like that. I’m sure you haven’t updated anything in at least five minutes. Aren’t you overdue?”

  “I do nae know. Is there nae a horned hat you should be wearing, Viking?” Striker was in his signature kilt, paired with a T-shirt that suggested he could sparkle. From the amount of glitter showing on the man from his night at a strip club, he actually did sparkle.

  “I’ve already told you that horned helmets weren’t—”

  Striker waggled his brows, indicating he was well aware that he was getting on Garth’s last nerve. “Someone stake the vamp so we can go to dinner. I’m hungry.”

  Boomer raised his hand, his catlike violet eyes holding mischief. “I’ll do it.”

  Blaise sat up, his hand darting into the air. “I’ll help.”

  Garth eyed Auberi. “Your own kind wants you dead. Why am I not surprised?”

  “Eat me,” snapped Auberi.

  “No stealing my staking sunshine,” Boomer said in Blaise’s direction. “Pun intended.”

  Hans and Jannick laughed.

  “Kitty, yer wife would kill you. That’s her family,” reminded Striker as he did a blatant ball scratch. “Or have you forgotten she’s apparently from their line of vampires?”

  “How can I forget?” asked Boomer. “Blaise and Auberi remind me of it all the damn time.”

  “Because cats are stupid,” added Striker. “You have to tell them things over and over again.”

  “You have some serious hang-ups with me being able to shift into a panther,” said Boomer, grinning. There was a time when genuine smiles from Boomer were rare and far between. It was good to see that he’d found happiness. “You have cat-shifter envy, don’t you?”

  “Yer a pain in the arse.” Striker permitted his lower jaw to begin to change shape. His teeth lengthened, taking on the look of a wolf rather than human. He snapped his jaws at Boomer.

  Boomer laughed as if the action was the funniest thing he’d seen lately.

  “I vote we have the cat and dog fight it out,” said Blaise from the back. “It would be more entertaining
than the Viking and Auberi. I’m bored to death, and I came into this missing a pulse. Shifters are morons.”

  Boomer smiled even wider. “At least we’re not reanimated corpses.”

  Gram whistled. “Guid one.”

  Auberi cast the cat-shifter a sideways glance. “I’m sure your mate will love hearing your views on vampires, seeing as how she is part vampire.”

  Gulping, Boomer shook his head. “Never mind. I love vampires. Really wish I was one.”

  Striker faked a cough. “Pussy. I’m glad I’m nae married. Mating takes powerful men and reduces them to sniveling fools. I’ve lost track of the number of men who have fallen victim to it lately. There has been an epidemic of mating. I’m scared I’ll catch it.”

  It was true. There had been a rash of matings throughout PSI and its subdivisions. It was as if a matchmaking fairy had decided to pay the organization a visit. Garth hoped the little shit left before it got to him. The last thing he wanted or needed was a wife.

  Just then, he swayed, and the buzzing he’d been experiencing returned. Flashes of being above Nicolette, drilling into her sweet body, filled his head. He stiffened as he thought about how he’d buried his face in her neck as he began to lose control of his shifter side.

  He gasped as he thought about the taste of her flesh in his mouth.

  He’d bitten her during sex?

  No.

  He wouldn’t have done that.

  The serum must have really messed with his head, because there was no way he’d ever bite a human woman at all, let alone during intercourse. That was a claiming move, and it was involuntary. Something a shifter male had no more control over than the weather. Nicolette, a human, wouldn’t trigger that response from him.

  “They’re still at it?” asked Malik Nasser as he entered the training room. The ancient Egyptian had been reunited with his mate a short while now and today marked his first day back to work officially. Garth and Malik had always had a level of respect for one another. Even when they’d faced off on the battlefields of old. Over the centuries, mutual respect turned into friendship.

  Rurik smacked his lips loudly. “Da, they are still at it. Apparently, we found the one Frenchman who doesn’t surrender quickly,” said the bear-shifter. He put his hands behind his head, laced his fingers, and put his feet up on another folding chair.

  Malik lifted a dark brow. “How long have they been going at it this time?”

  Rurik checked his watch. “Just over three hours now.”

  James gave Malik a pointed stare. “When they’re done here, they’re cleaning the infirmary. This started down there.”

  “Guys? Really?” asked Malik, disappointment showing on the man’s face. Malik was friend to both Garth and Auberi and had never understood the animosity between the two.

  Auberi and Garth ignored him, continuing to move in a circle, each surveying the other.

  The vampire came at him fast and Garth slammed into him. The impact was thunderous, neither giving an inch. A battle of the titans. They snarled, each fighting for the upper hand. When they broke apart again, sweat flew to the mat.

  Boomer was all smiles. “Want me to order pizza or something?”

  The Russian nodded. “Sure. Get extra ones. Captain will be hungry when, or if, they finish. He’s not had anything to eat all week. Might want to find a few bodies for the vampire to drain, unless he likes pizza.”

  Boomer snorted. “I’ll see what I can do. Don’t let them kill each other, okay?”

  “If it makes this end, I’m willing to kill them both,” offered Rurik, earning hard looks from both Garth and Auberi.

  The twins smiled. “Pizza sounds good.”

  Duke Marlow, a fellow operative, who just so happened to be on the same team as Striker, Malik, and Boomer, entered the training room and groaned. “For fuck’s sake. They’re still sparring?”

  With a huge sigh, Malik nodded. “The last time they did this, they were here for three days straight until the general ordered them to knock it off.”

  “Want me to call Newman?” asked Duke, a hopeful note to his voice. That was saying something, since the man basically hated everything and everyone except his mate.

  “Call Newman for what?” asked Corbin Jones, entering as well. Corbin was the captain of Team Five and the least likely to act like a grown man-child. The moment the Brit spotted Garth and Auberi, he shook his head. “I’ll put in a call for pizzas and beer. We’re in for a long night.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nicolette stared into the darkness at the far corner of her backyard as she held her cell phone to her ear and did her best to calm her overactive imagination. In the other hand, she held a spoon as if it was a dagger. She’d been feeling sorry for herself, thinking about Garth—again—and eating her way through a pint of mint chocolate chip soy ice cream when she’d heard something out back.

  The ice cream had reminded her of Garth, and that had only made her cry more

  When she’d heard whispering out back, she’d hoped it was Garth. Now that she was standing outside, in the dark, the idea of running out to see seemed less than smart. Especially since an immense feeling of dread and danger had settled over her. It was so overpowering that she couldn’t shake it.

  Since Clara was currently on the other end of the phone, on her way home from the airport after being gone a week, and not there to be a witness should something go wrong, Nicolette knew she should head inside.

  She didn’t.

  “Tell me again what you think you heard?” asked Clara, worry in her voice. “Is it the crazy guy you had sex with?”

  Nicolette grunted. “Stop. I told you already he wasn’t crazy.”

  “Sure. So he ejaculated, pulled out super-fast, and then ran away naked because he’s sane?” asked Clara. “Yep. Sounds totally non-crazy to me. Doesn’t every guy do that after he finishes? Wait, some do. Never mind. Totally sane. What was I thinking?”

  “You’re being difficult for no reason,” said Nicolette.

  “Nah, my reason is to keep you talking so I know you haven’t become the victim of a serial killer or something.”

  “Gee. Thanks.”

  “My pleasure. Let’s talk about the hot Viking-Cake Dude again. I’m still stunned you brought a guy you’d just met home with you. Finding out you really did bang his brains out really makes me wonder if I know you at all.”

  Nicolette nodded. “Made me wonder if I knew myself. But really, he’s not crazy. Please stop calling him that.”

  “Fine. The Viking who ran off naked into the night is not crazy. I totally stand corrected.”

  Nicolette laughed. “Well, he did say something weird before we got busy. But no weirder than the stuff you ramble on about. You know, shifters and stuff,” said Nicolette.

  Clara sucked in a huge breath. “We’ve talked and video conferenced nightly for the past week, and you never once thought to bring up the fact he talked about shifters?”

  “Didn’t seem as important as the fact I did indeed bang his brains out. Oh, and did I tell you Cody knows him?”

  Nicolette could still vividly remember what it was like having Garth in her. He’d made her feel things she never had before. When she’d gone in search of him, he’d been nowhere to be found. It had been then she’d realized she’d never gotten his last name, let alone his phone number.

  She’d had a couple of nights with Garth. Granted, it was the best sex of her life, but a two-night stand all the same. Saying it out loud made it feel cheap when it had been anything but. Sure, it had ended with him rushing off into the night and leaving his clothes behind, but still.

  No matter how that’s spun, it’s crazy.

  “Tell me again what you heard outside,” said Clara.

  “I’m not sure. I was in the kitchen and I heard something that sounded like men whispering. Super soft. But whispering all the same.”

  Clara was quiet a second. “And you think they were doing it outside of the kitchen window?”<
br />
  “No. I know they weren’t there. I’d have seen them. It sounded like it was coming from the back corner outside. You know, the one where the overhead lights keep burning out?” Nicolette stared at that very spot from her position near the backdoor.

  “Let me get this straight. You thought you heard men whispering out back, at night, in the dark, and you then went out to check?” asked Clara, her voice rising slightly.

  Nicolette’s cheeks heated. “Erm, yes.”

  “Dumbass,” snapped Clara.

  Nicolette smiled. “Thanks.”

  Leaning slightly, Nicolette peered into the darkness more, hoping to be able to make out the shape of something, if something was indeed there. In the back of her mind, she thought about calling the police, but she wasn’t sure what she’d tell them. That she’d thought she’d heard a strange noise and had a bad vibe? Somehow, she seriously doubted they’d see that as an emergency. They’d respond and then look at her like she was nuts.

  Besides, they were no doubt responding to actual emergencies. Ones she didn’t want to take them away from for any reason.

  “Call the police,” said Clara, as if reading Nicolette’s mind. “If your gut is saying something is off, that means aliens are about to abduct you or something. We both know your gut feelings are never wrong.”

  “I’m fine. No one is here.” The words didn’t sit right with her, and she tensed. “Well, I’m fairly positive no one is here.”

  “I’d like to go back to my first thought on the matter, which was…dumbass.”

  Nicolette didn’t respond. She stared into the backyard instead.

  “I need you to grunt or something if you’re alive,” said Clara. “The dead air is making me think you’re currently being hacked into tiny bits by some creeper dude.”

  “Nice picture you painted there for me,” returned Nicolette as she clutched the spoon tighter, a deep sense of foreboding settling over her. Everything in her was screaming at her to run into the house, bolt the door, and call her uncle at once. To hell with the fact it wasn’t their normal call time. Her gut said that the devil himself was staring back at her from the darkened corner of the back courtyard.