by TJ Michaels
“I’m going to enjoy your man after I kill you. After all, Bix wanted me first. He’ll welcome me back with open arms after you’re dead.”
Just thinking of the possibility of the woman touching Bix made Carin stark raving mad. And like her grandma used to say, a pissed off sistah was a dangerous thing indeed. Holding up her hand in the universal one-finger salute, Carin met the challenge.
“Come get some, bitch.”
Natasha lunged, missing by mere inches as Carin brought her elbow down in the middle of her back. Air whooshed from Natasha’s lungs as she hit the floor. In a blur, she rolled over onto her back, sat up and scooted away so fast her head slammed into the wall behind her. Carin closed in. Every dirty maneuver Tameth and Jaidyn taught her streamed through her mind as she punched, kicked and gouged like she would never have another chance. The woman was not walking out of here unbruised or conscious. Grabbing a handful of tangled hair, Carin flung her into the middle of the foyer floor, and pounced like a lioness on the hunt.
On her feet in a flash, Natasha ran full speed at her, fangs bared and fists clenched for damage. Carin laced her fingers together, waited for the perfect moment, and when Natasha was close enough she swung her arms like a baseball bat. She heard at least a few of the fine bones of Natasha’s face crack under the blow of her double fists. She decided she rather liked baseball and didn’t stop the raining blows until Natasha lay limp and still on the cold tiled floor.
God bless vampire DNA. With her enhanced speed and strength, she’d held her own against Natasha in a fair fight, and beat the shit out of her until the female vamp was nothing but a pile of unconscious sore bones.
A quick trip into the dining room revealed the fighting was almost done. After a swift rip at the tablecloth, Carin and several sturdy strips of cloth were back in the foyer securing her quarry on the floor with a series of good solid knots.
Chapter Nineteen
Bix was right behind Sidheon as he streaked down the beach. Thankfully there was no traffic or bright lights on this part of the beach behind the house.
“Stop, Sidheon. I’d rather not kill you if I don’t have to.”
When Sidheon showed no signs of stopping, Bix turned on the steam, pumping his legs and arms with blinding speed. Sidheon was almost within arm’s reach. Bix stretched out his hands, his fingers mere inches from the back of Sidheon’s neck, when his world exploded.
Sidheon turned and fired a weapon hidden on his body. Blinding pain radiated through Bix’s chest and down his left arm. His katana landed with a soft huff in the sand as he fell face down like a fallen tree.
In all his years he’d never felt anything this excruciating. He rolled to his back in agony. The starry night sky wavered, the stars fading as his vision blurred at the edges. The pain flared and burned through his very blood. Any moment now his skin would lay in smoldering strips in the sand, melted from his bones.
“You idiot. They don’t call me brilliant for nothing,” Sidheon crowed, standing over Bix now with a triumphant grin. “Dr. Carinian isn’t the only one smart enough to make poisoned rounds. Too bad you’ve more brawn than brains.”
Sidheon raised a piece of driftwood as large as a small log at the exact moment the blistering pain across his chest begin to ease.
Moving as fast as he was able, he avoided the driftwood. It landed with a thud, throwing a plume of wet sand into the air in the exact spot his head had been. Shit, Sid wasn’t fooling around. If Bix could just stay clear of the rogue’s blows long enough to get the feeling back in his sword hand.
He rolled to the right towards the waterline. But he wasn’t fast enough. The driftwood connected with his shoulder. Damn, that hurt. Managing to raise his right arm enough to keep another blow from connecting with his forehead, Bix felt his fingers again.
His right arm stung from the contact of the wood. The next instant, his gun was in his hand and a large black hole began to spread from the center of Sidheon’s chest where a modified bullet penetrated with a near-silent hiss.
Sidheon’s eyes went wide as his fingers loosed their hold on the driftwood and it tumbled to the damp sand at the water’s edge. “How? How did you…?”
“My woman may not be the only one who can make modified rounds, but I bet she is the only one smart enough to reverse engineer an antidote to your serum, you scum.” Bix rolled to his feet as Sidheon dropped to his knees, clutching his rapidly deteriorating chest, his lifeblood flowing between his fingers to pool in the cool grains underneath his failing body. Bix pumped several rounds into Sidheon’s twitching flesh for good measure and watched the north wind carry the ash away.
Retrieving his katana, he wiped the blade on his ruined coat and slipped it into the sheath.
On his way back to the house he tensed when his wife barreled into his mind.
“Bix, where are you? Are you all right?”
She was worried. Or maybe she was hurt? Damn it, he should never have left her. Carin was a strong woman, but she was just mastering her new skills and abilities. He wasn’t concerned about her ability to take Natasha down, but there were bigger and badder vamps in the house besides.
“I’m on my way back. Are you all right? Are you hurt? I’m coming, baby.”
“Bix, I’m fine…”
But he wasn’t listening. He was tearing his way towards the house at full, blurring speed to reach his mate. A few more strides and he’d be back with his woman.
The earpiece to his secure cell phone vibrated. He answered without slowing.
“Bixler here.”
“The surviving rogues were secured on Stealth One and are on the way to headquarters. The Iudex judges accompanied them, declaring their sentences as they boarded. Stealth Two is waiting for the rest of us.”
“What about Natasha and the others?”
“I don’t have a status on Natasha, but Dr. Carin had Alaan call us to put the sick vampires on Stealth Two. She insists on keeping an eye on them and assist them if possible. They’re all ready to go.”
“Thanks, Randall.” Bix spoke in hushed tones into his mouthpiece, and calmed. At least he knew Carin was safe. She’d probably tried to tell him she was fine, but the moment he heard the panic in her voice his brain shut down and all he could think about was getting to her.
He pushed through the front door into the foyer where he’d last seen his wife. Wounds, sore chest and all, he laughed his ass off when he found Carin sitting on an unconscious Natasha, whistling as she examined and reassured a few of the frail vamps.
Carin took one look at him, grabbed him by the arm and tugged him into the ruined dining room. He found himself seated next to a grumbling Alaan. His friend sat stiffly at the oversized table while Tameth fussed over a small gash across his forehead. The woman threatened to skewer him if he didn’t sit still and let her tend him. Bix hid a grin at Alaan’s deep answering growl as he stayed perfectly still. After all, Tameth was a Clan Serati Seeker. Since the mission was technically over, she was no longer subordinate to Bix as the team lead, nor Alaan as his Second, Clan Elders’ sons or not.
Bix stilled in an instant when Carin, scalpel in hand, informed him of his options—sit still or die. His coat pooled on his feet as she examined the ruined shirt in tatters over his chest where the modified bullet had hit. The flesh was red and somewhat swollen, but no gaping hole, no ashed-over skin, no dead Bix. At Carin’s amazed gasp, Tameth informed her they’d found not only her modified bullets, but also the antidote she’d been working on to counteract Sidheon’s serum. Kenoe and Dr. Lyons had administered the dose noted in her documentation before they boarded the jet. Bix knew several of the team should have left this earth at least twice over, their remains nothing more than piles of charred ash. Including himself. Instead he sported a single, puckered wound where he’d allowed Carin to dig out the bullet slug. That, and a bit of swelling on his chest and down his arm.
The woman was so happy she buried her face against his chest and bawled like a baby. He felt every wracking sob
down to the depths of his soul. Didn’t last long. If he thought she had a good set of lungs before, he soon realized he’d had no idea how good. The breath she took was deep enough to scuba dive with because she was soon screeching non-stop. She erupted at the top of her lungs, telling him how foolish he’d been to use an untested antidote, and what would she have done if he’d been hurt?
“Damn it, Bix, what if something had gone wrong, you muscle brained clod! What if the antidote hadn’t been measured out correctly? What if…Mmmph…”
There was, after all, one way to stop an angry woman from talking. He pulled her down into his lap and groaned into her mouth as she responded hungrily to his kiss. She had no shame, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his bottom lip into her mouth. Leaning her back over his arm, Bix couldn’t plunder her enough, feast enough, taste enough. A few annoying “a-hems” cut short their love play. No problem. He rose with Carin in his arms, and without a word walked right out the door to the car waiting to take them to the jet. He would never let her out of his sight again.
The mop-up team arrived and within two hours and right on schedule, there was no trace of the night’s activities, with the exception of the broken glass panes. Those would be taken care of first thing in the morning.
Sidheon was destroyed. The mole was in custody along with all of the contacts stupid enough to be in this house during the raid. The rest were headed for the V.C.O.E. Most Wanted list. In the end, Carin was safe and they’d rescued a number of altered vamp hostages. Job well done.
* * *
The V.C.O.E. was thankful to Carin for her assistance. It had taken some time but she’d managed to develop a drug to undo Sidheon’s handiwork on the vampires he’d used as servants. In appreciation, they’d given her the pick of any of the Council’s estates. This particular property in Savannah, Georgia came complete with horses, as did the countryside manor in Wychnor Park , England.
Loving the feel of her horse underneath her, she urged it to go faster as Bix chased her across the rolling hills. For a woman who’d never ridden as a child, she’d caught on in no time. Even with the increased travel demands of her new Council position Carin made a habit of getting out to ride almost every day no matter where they happened to be.
They burst into the stables and Bix was off his horse in a flash. He’d pulled her down off her mount and into his eager arms before she could get her foot out of the stirrup.
“Are you sure we can’t stay another week?” she asked between hot little kisses.
“Sorry, love.” He planted a loud smack against her neck. “You start a new project in sunny Charlotte, North Carolina in two weeks. We’ll head to our ranch in Montana in the morning where I can make sure you get enough rest before then.”
“Oh, come on, Bix, I don’t make you rest before any of your secret Seeker gigs,” she argued.
“But I’m not five months pregnant, am I?”
Her fist found its way to her hip and her left booted foot tapped on the stable room floor. “You know I’m not going for this crap, Bix.”
With a sly smile he turned his back, removed the horses’ bits and drawled, “No problem. Alaana will be close enough to…”
“Fine, fine, I’ll take it easy. Just don’t call her. Since I got pregnant, she won’t let me do anything fun. It’s like having a new mother.” Carin scrunched up her face on a frown and shuddered.
She reached into the trough attached to the stall doors and threw a handful of hay at Bix while he laughed at her. Alaana, along with Alaan and his father, Ralen, spoiled Carin. She knew she was a damned brat, but hell if she was going to ask them to stop. In fact, Alaan had officially declared Carin his little sister and an adopted daughter of Clan Serati. And it was kind of nice to have a mom again. Well, more of a veritable dragon of a long-lived mom.
“You adore Matriarch Serati and all her mother-henning ways.”
“And your point is?” Carin snapped and hauled back her arm to throw another handful of hay. Before she could toss it, Bix blurred from his spot near a hitching post, lifted her underneath her arms and pressed her up against the wall.
“Not sure about yours, but here’s my point.” He ground his hips against her and her legs automatically circled his waist. An unmistakable, mouth-watering erection pressed between her thighs.
“Mmm, it’s a very nice point, too,” she murmured with a husky sigh, opening for his kiss.
The groomsmen didn’t bat an eye when Bix walked from the stables, up through the rear gardens and into the house with Carin’s legs wrapped around his waist. They exchanged sizzling kisses as they went.
Yep, she thought, there’s a lot to be said for being mated to a vampire.
“You’ve got that right.”
“Bix, will you get out of my h…? Oooh! Oh my God. Mmm, never mind.”
About the Author
Born into a musically eclectic family, TJ Michaels’ first love is singing, even outside of the shower. Also an avid book lover, her eBook reader is shown no mercy, forced to entertain her at all hours of the day or night. Even in the dark you’ll find her head buried in a story, whether it’s her own creation or something snagged from the local bookstore.
So, where does this writing stuff come in? TJ taps her over fifteen years experience in technology to create realistic stories with out-of-this-world characters. And with an imagination expanded beyond belief since the birth of her two now teen-aged children (she’ll never be sane again), spinning life’s experiences into tales is a blast.
With more books in the works, TJ hasn’t lost steam. Her mind? Yep, that’s gone, but steam there is aplenty. As a true Taurus, TJ has no intention of slowing down and is definitely too stubborn to stop when she sees the fence.
To learn more about TJ Michaels, please visit www.tjmichaels.com.
Send an email to TJ at [email protected] or sign her guestbook on her website and the crew will be sure to keep you updated on the latest endeavors.
Look for these titles by TJ Michaels
Now Available:
Carinian’s Seeker
Coming Soon:
Serati’s Flame
Sometimes magic is the only way to break down the barriers to love.
If Wishes Came True
© 2006 Cassandra Kane
Available now at Samhain Publishing
Maddy Langton has been in lust with fellow undercover detective, Rafe West, for two years. Although they enjoyed a brief sexual encounter during an undercover surveillance, Maddy ran from Rafe before her lust for him jeopardized her career…and because bad boy Rafe loves his women blonde and gorgeous—everything she’s not.
When Maddy helps a couple of Buddhist monks, the grateful monks give Maddy a ring and ask her to make a wish. Maddy wishes to be the blonde with Rafe. And when she puts on the ring, that’s what she suddenly becomes.
Willing to do anything to spend a night with him, Maddy lets Rafe believe she’s his beautiful companion. But does Rafe really want her or the beautiful blonde she’s become?
Enjoy the following excerpt for If Wishes Came True:
Maddy had hated that Rafe had been there, distracting her with his good looks. After a week of unmitigated boredom he’d begun to tell her stories to pass the time, stories about his family and incidents from childhood, stories about busts that had gone well and others that had him convinced he’d never live through them.
Hell, he’d even shown her his scars. Axe wound to the back of his head from an enraged suspect, ten stitches. Knife wound across the ribs from a ten-year-old crack addict, seventeen stitches.
He’d lifted his shirt for her to have a look at the jagged scar across his ribs. She’d stared at his six-pack and the fine cover of blond hair disappearing into the waist of his trousers. Oh, man.
Then he’d teased her into showing him hers.
“I don’t have any.” She turned bright red. He wasn’t seeing that one.
“Come on, Langton, I know you have one.”
/> “No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“How would you know?”
“Cops talk, you know that.”
“So who’s been blabbing?”
“Luke Nelson’s not known for his discretion.”
“Luke’s a cretin.”
“Come on, Langton. I’ve shown you mine. Fair play.”
She hesitated, then shrugged. “Only in the spirit of fair play.”
Maddy undid the buttons on her jeans and slid them over her hips. She pointed out the scar on her inner thigh.
“Gunshot wound from a trigger-happy junkie during a raid, twenty-one stitches.”
Rafe leaned in for a closer look. “That looks nasty. I heard you almost died.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“I hope you plugged the arsehole.”
“He’s doing a ten stretch. He won’t pass parole, the guys will make sure.”
“If I’d been there I would’ve nailed him.”
“What are you so mad about?”
“Just look what he did to you. The fucking creep.”
Maddy stared at the shiny skin of the scar on her thigh. “It’s not that bad, for God’s sake.” Then, as realization dawned, a burning heat started up the back of her neck. “And you’re only upset because I’m a woman, aren’t you? You’re such a fucking throwback, West.”
She began to pull up her jeans, struggling when the tight material clung to her skin. Rafe grabbed her wrist to still her furious tugging.
“Come on, Maddy. You expect me to be happy about seeing this? He almost killed you. As it is he scarred you for life.”
“Listen, arsehole, you expect me to ooh and ahh over your stupid battle scars but when I show you mine you come over all self-righteous.” She slapped at his hand. “I’m not one of your moronic blonde bimbos, all right? I can take care of myself. Now leave me the fuck alone!”
Instead he captured both wrists and hauled her towards him. She stumbled to her knees, struggling as he tried to hold her still. Tears sprang into her eyes and quivered on her eyelashes. Oh, shit, she was such a girl!