by TJ Michaels
“Carin, sweetheart.”
“Yes.”
Shit, she heard him?
“Of course I hear you. You’re speaking to me.”
But he hadn’t said a word. Not with his mouth anyway. His whole body stilled as his mind wrapped around the answer. It was crystal clear. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t figured it out the night he met her. Idiot. Carin was his mate. His woman. His damned target.
Wasn’t this a fine mess? He’d never be able to resist her allure, knowing she was meant for him, to bond with him. But the Council would have his balls if he took a target, an assignment, to his bed. Bloody fucking hell.
She gazed up at him, taking in his expressions, questioning. She didn’t understand this thing between them but when her plump lips parted invitingly he couldn’t resist a second longer.
Bix slowly lowered his head, taking in the look of wonder on her face as he eased in closer. He rubbed his lips against hers, enjoying the silky slide of skin on skin. It just made him want more. Damn, she smelled so good. Today, a light mist of vanilla and allspice overlaid her musky tones. He deepened the kiss until he was lost, drowning in the essence of Carin.
Her fingers tightened over the tense muscle of his forearm and the slide of the leather tantalized the skin underneath. There was nothing sweet about the way he took her mouth in the potent caress. No, this was hungry, desperate, and he was man enough to admit he needed it more than anything or anyone. He dug into the thick hair at the base of her skull, just barely able to keep from yanking the pins out of it so he could run his fingers through the cottony curls.
“Mmm, Bix, why do I like kissing you so much?” Her thoughts projected into his head. Knowing how she felt turned him on until he was nothing more than a glowing ember in the fire of her sweet kisses. When his tongue touched hers, it was a melding of the mouths, a fusion of the senses. And she tasted damn good, just like his favorite fruity candy. He took her lips, her tongue, tried to steal her very breath. She gave back a roaring flame and all but consumed him, body and soul. He’d waited all his life to feel like this with a woman, but…
“Dr. Carin?”
Yaaaah! She jumped a mile out of her skin, frazzled and panting. At the first gasp of distress, Carin found herself sheltered behind Bix’s wide back. One of his strong arms pinned her hard against his body until her face was muffled between his shoulder blades. Tense and ready to spring, he stood between her and whoever had walked into her lab unannounced. The man was so still, the play of muscle on his back was the only movement.
Too short to look over his shoulder, Carin tapped his forearm. He relaxed just enough for her to wiggle free of his hold.
She stepped around him and nervously straightened her already straight lab coat. One glimpse of his face had her struggling between the urge to draw back in amazement or let her own hackles rise and make it known that she ran the show around here.
Bix’s lips were drawn tight into hard lines and the hazel-gray of his eyes glinted through narrowed slits. He was a predator ready to pounce, a contradiction of the demanding but tender man who’d been kissing her mere seconds before.
The tech at the door backed up two steps. Her gaze traveled from Carin to the tall, menacing man and her eyebrows rose in comprehension.
“Sorry, Dr. Carin, the door was open, and, uh… Sorry, I should have knocked anyway.”
“No worries, Shell.” She smiled sheepishly at the lab technician. Great, now she was blushing like a schoolgirl who’d just been caught making out with her first boy. What had she been thinking, kissing her project coordinator? Let alone kissing him in a lab with an open door, knowing the quality techs ran in and out all day. The answer—she hadn’t been thinking at all. She’d been feeling. The last time she’d done such a thing was…well, in Colorado when he’d kissed her good night outside her hotel room. Okay, no more kissing in the lab. In fact, she was supposed to be mad at him, so no more kissing period.
“Now wait just a minute. You can’t just cut me off now,” he protested into her mind as his neck snapped sideways to look down into her face. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Who the hell are you cussing at, damn it? And will you frickin’ get out of my head, Bix?”
Lifting his hand, he smoothed a bit of smeared lip gloss off her bottom lip. With a cheeky grin, his tone smooth as ice, he promised, “I’ll check in on you later, Carin.” Turning away, he moved slowly towards the door.
She wanted to cut him off? When they’d just found each other she thought she’d nip him in the bud? Carin had a lot to learn about how much a prime male would take from his mate. May as well start her lessons now.
On his way to the door, he sent her a few private thoughts. A triumphant grin spread across his lips at her swift intake of breath. In his mind he imagined a warm caress beginning at the top of her head, then sent the heat simmering down each individual bone of her spine until he’d weaved a smoldering trail all the way to her little toes. Bix filled her head with thoughts of what he’d have from her in addition to such sweet kisses. And those thoughts were deliberately nasty.
A backward glance revealed a wavering smile plastered on her face as the lab tech handed her a clipboard. The pen moved shakily across it. He wondered if she had any idea what it was. But he heard her clear enough.
“Oh Lord, how do you do that?” she wailed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“Same way you can, sweetheart. Like this.” The thoughts he bombarded her with transformed into images. Naked, sweaty, straining images.
She blushed a deep shade of caramel. He was sure the space between her legs was growing moist and her panties getting a bit uncomfortable. All in the space of a few seconds.
“Oh good gracious. Oh, my God. This is so not fair,” she protested hotly.
“I know, sweetheart, but I don’t play fair.” He looked back just long enough to wink, then disappeared out the door and down the hall.
“Dr. Carin, you all right?”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry, Shell. What?” Okay, not only did she feel on horny-toad overload, she sounded like she’d had crack for breakfast. Damned man.
“Where do you want me to put these?”
“Huh?”
“The DNA results from the samples you submitted before you went out of town. You just signed for them, but where do you want me to put them?”
Carin absently pointed to her desk, thanked the studious lab tech and hustled over to the sink to wash her hands. Warm water splashed over her fingers as she stood weak-kneed with every thought on Bix and the soul-searing kiss he’d laid on her, among other things. And he had psychic powers, very strong, very kinky ones. She’d never met anyone like herself, someone with those kinds of abilities, but for some reason she wasn’t shocked to learn he had such talents. And boy did he know how to use them.
She moved away from the basin and the automatic water spigot turned off as she strode towards her private bathroom. She’d look at the test results later. Right now she needed a shower. An arctic cold one.
* * *
Bix strode out of Carin’s lab smiling wickedly. He’d been a bad vamp, sending his thoughts, feelings and images into her brain with such intensity. But since he realized what she was to him, he felt entitled to let her know just how much he wanted to get next to her skin.
But first he had a rogue to catch.
He’d sensed another vamp on this floor when he and Carin had gotten off the elevator. The presence had been strongest near her door. Earlier while scouting the facility he’d also picked up and followed the trail of several other vampires. None of them matched Sidheon’s description.
The territory leaders and local Seekers were notified ahead of time and expected Alaan and him in their city for a hunting expedition, but he didn’t want the information to get to anyone else. Especially someone who might be in league with Sidheon. Since every territory and region had Seekers, he and his partner wouldn’t stand out too much, but there was one smal
l problem—Natasha’s intel made no mention of other vamps working inside this particular biotech company. His brow furrowed as he wondered what else he didn’t know.
Once out of the building he glanced down at his watch and picked up his pace. Damn, it was hot. He tugged at the band collar of his specially cut, jet black, leather trench. He loved his coat, the symbol of his hard-earned status as a Seeker. But it was still made of leather; more precisely, made-for-Montana-winters leather. Not ideal for walking briskly in seventy-degrees under clear skies and unimpeded sunshine. He unzipped the long coat to the waist and dug around in the inner breast pocket until his fingers wrapped around his favorite candies, a wireless earpiece and a neatly folded handkerchief. Unwrapping a couple of watermelon Jolly Ranchers, he popped them in his mouth, then mopped his brow with the hankie.
With the earpiece in place, he spoke quietly into it, “Dial Serati.” A few seconds later, Alaan responded on the other end of the line.
“Damn, Alaan, you sound like Barry White,” Bix chided.
“Yeah, and I’ll kick your ass while singing like Barry White, too,” Alaan quipped at Bix’s wry humor. The man hated Barry White jokes. The platinum blond, curly-haired, six and a half foot, lean fighting machine’s voice just didn’t match his fair god-like looks. Someone was bound to throw a “deep voice” joke his way at least once a day. But Bix knew he was the only one who got away with it.
“Keep dreaming, beautiful,” Bix snorted back. “I’m walking out in back of Building A7. Where are you?”
“Two blocks west, top level of a public parking structure. Got a clear view of Idac’s rear entrances. I can see you from here. On the way.”
Bix heard the engine of their big SUV roar to life through his earpiece. A few minutes and a few streets later Alaan picked him up in an alley and the two Seekers headed down Mission Blvd.
“What’s going on, Bix?”
“Not sure yet,” he said, his tone serious as he peeled off his trench coat. He tossed it into the backseat, accepted a cold bottle of water from his partner and downed all twenty ounces in five big swallows. He repositioned one of the overhead vents and leaned his head back. Boy, was he ever appreciative of air-conditioning.
Eyes closed, enjoying the cold air blasting directly into his face, he asked, “Did anyone by chance mention there were other vamps hanging out in this camp?”
“No,” Alaan responded thoughtfully. “I spotted a few going in and out while you were reacquainting with your target. No sign of Sidheon yet.”
“We knew Carin could get us close to Sidheon, but it turns out the bastard’s lab is right next to hers. I didn’t spot him the entire time I was in the building. This whole situation concerns me big time. I expected to see other vampires in town, but not this many working in one building. We have no idea where their allegiance lies. Call Natasha. See what you can get out of her.”
“Done.”
The SUV screeched to a halt in a seedy part of town that anyone with good sense would avoid even in broad daylight. Not wanting to be easily recognized as a Seeker down here, Bix left his trench in the backseat and hopped out.
Both men automatically raised their watches and synched up. “Rendezvous at the intersection of La Jolla and Turquoise around six o’clock?” Alaan asked seriously.
“Works for me. Later, Barry.” Bix heard a deep “Kiss my ass” echo through his mind, and chuckled as he took off walking down the street to check out another lead on Sidheon.
Chapter Five
Carin had conducted a number of quality-control tests over the past several months. The results had been consistent, though less than desirable. Now, they were all skewed, almost the exact opposite of what they’d been before. What the hell was going on?
Before, the serum had made the skin cells resistant to the viruses introduced to them. In fact, after the initial mutation each virus had been unsuccessful in penetrating the skin cells at all, dying within seven days. It had been several days longer than she’d hoped for, but the cells were left healthy and whole. Now, the exact same virus was actually hijacking the cell signals causing infection to occur within hours.
She returned the vial to the specimen cart when something about the contents of the cart caught her eye. There was no name on the side to identify it and the labeling on the vials was inconsistent with her coding system. These weren’t her specimens.
Curious as to what she’d stumbled onto, she retrieved three vials from the cart. One held what looked like skin samples, labeled discreetly on the bottom with a small v. The second vial contained a viscous liquid. Except for the slight purple tint, it looked exactly like her serum. The third vial was clearly blood. But whose, she had no idea.
With a v-skin sample secured on a glass slide, she placed a single drop of whatever the purple-tinted liquid was on top of it. Upping the power on her microscope to cellular magnification, she put her eye to the eyepiece.
Holy shit, the tissue cells were changing. But changing into what? After a few seconds she noted the color of the tissue as a pale pink. After two minutes, a strange, dead-looking gray. At five minutes the tissue was charcoal black with the consistency of ash. It was dead.
Running over to the small refrigerator tucked in the corner of the huge lab, she carefully retrieved a petri dish with several samples of skin taken from her own scalp. The purple-tinted serum didn’t do anything to her skin. After five minutes, the sample looked no different than it had when she’d put it on the slide. So what was the difference between her skin and the one in the vials from the specimen cart?
She slipped a sterile pair of tweezers into the mystery vial and retrieved more skin. Her brows drew together against the lens of the microscope’s eyepiece. What the hell kind of skin was this? To the naked eye, the mystery sample looked to have the same properties as her own, except her skin was darker. But under the microscope, the molecular structure was different. The v-skin was denser, stronger somehow. Perhaps it wasn’t human skin at all? Maybe from some kind of animal?
Noting the difference between the skin cells and the destructive power of the tinted serum on the mystery skin, she was curious what the blood would do. She put a single drop on the glass slide with her own skin, and a single drop on a second slide with the v-skin. She pulled back from the microscope, shaking her head. If she was puzzled before, she was stumped now.
The blood didn’t affect the v-skin at all, but the results on her skin were nothing short of miraculous. Her skin had changed and the cells multiplied. The dry sample was now more elastic and healthy looking. Her final note in her notebook reflected the results.
The sample of my skin is not only more healthy looking, it actually appears to be younger, stronger and more resistant to stress and viral activity. The molecular structure of my sample skin now mirrors the v-skin. It is dense and not easily punctured. When a virus was introduced to my modified skin, it was unable to penetrate. The blood had regenerative effects on my skin, but was not effective on the v-skin.
In short, the test results from the blood were close to the tests she’d run with her experimental serum, only the blood worked better. How in the world did this mystery blood work better than her synthetic serum? No human had blood like this.
She nicked some of the skin, purple liquid and blood, and stashed them in a refrigerated safe. With everything else back in the trays and boxes exactly the way she found them, the cart was returned to its spot next to the lab door. The skin on the back of her neck pebbled as the sixth sense she’d never quite understood kicked into high alert. Someone was coming.
Hurrying across the lab to the nearest stainless steel worktable, Carin hopped up on a stool and had just put pen to paper when a knock sounded on the steel door right before it opened.
Carin looked up and almost cringed. Dr. Aleth Sidheon stood in her door. The man was sinfully good looking, but boy did he make her skin crawl. He’d never said more than a passing hello and was always strictly professional in his dealings with her,
but something about him creeped her out. He was tall and lean, not as tall as Bix, and certainly not as muscular. Where Sidheon was almost platinum blond and pretty, Bix’s hair was the blackest black and his features rugged. Sidheon’s eyes were a bright vivid blue and his skin looked like he’d never seen the sun in his life. Bix was golden-skinned and golden-eyed with mysterious, sexy streaks of silvery gray.
Hold up. Why in the world was she sitting here comparing Sidheon to Bix? Girl, get it together and deal with the man standing in front of you. She painted on a sugary smile and motioned for him to come on in. Wanting to get back to whatever was on the specimen cart, she really wished he would just go away. Boy did his timing suck.
“Hi, Aleth,” she said in the friendliest tone she could muster.
“Hello, Dr. Derrickson. How was your trip to Colorado?”
“It was cold. Training was good, though. What can I do for you, Aleth?”
“My assistant misplaced my specimen cart. Do you mind if I check yours to see if you received mine by mistake?”
She motioned to the cart she’d just wheeled over to the door. “Sure have at it. I had time to take a few of the specimens out, only to put them all back again.” She watched his face tighten almost imperceptibly, and went on chatting. “I’m so far behind, Aleth. Haven’t had time to analyze anything. A new program coordinator showed up this morning and I’ve been trying to get him up to speed.”
“New program coordinator?” Sidheon asked.
“Yeah, some guy from Venture Pharma Biotech Capital is here. He’s taking over one of Charles’ projects while he gets the new plant up and running in Puerto Rico.”
“How many projects is this new person going to oversee?”
“So far, just mine. Venture has a large stake in the new cancer drug I’m developing.”