Primal Instincts

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Primal Instincts Page 16

by Susan Sizemore


  Tobias moved to stand in front of the door. He was a big guy and used his size to loom dangerously in the way. He gave them a weapons-grade glare. “I will not have anyone under my protection putting themselves in danger. Am I understood?”

  “I’m with him,” Anthony said.

  Rose put her hand over her mouth and giggled. She shared an amused look with Francesca. “Is it the bonding that’s making them slow, do you think? I’m sure your young man is normally quicker on the uptake than right now. Anthony is usually very clever.”

  “Diversion,” Francesca finally told Tobias. “Honestly, I thought you were supposed to be a military genius.” She stepped close to him and grabbed the front of his black silk shirt. “I am spoiled. I am a brat. I am an adder-tongued bitch. But my name is not Flare!”

  He gave her a considering look. “Diversion.”

  “Bait in a trap,” she said. “You’ve turned this place into a fortress. Time to take the battle to them.”

  “I know.”

  “I don’t know if they’ll be stupid enough to fall for it, but getting their experimental subject and bagging a vampire female has got to be very tempting to the bad guys.”

  “It won’t be safe.”

  “I’m a vampire,” she said. “I don’t want to be safe.”

  He smiled, sharp as a blade. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

  “Of course I am. Can you handle it?”

  He gave the slightest of dismissing shrugs and eased her hands away from his chest. He didn’t let go of her, and his hands were so very big and warm and hard holding hers. They looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds.

  Finally, Tobias said, “Rose is mortal.”

  “I won’t put Rose in harm’s way,” Crowe announced.

  “I’m old enough to make my own decisions,” Rose informed her bondmate. “You had me cause a diversion once before, Anthony. Do you remember?”

  “That was different!”

  Rose looked past her bondmate to Francesca and Tobias. “He told me to distract the crew of a German tank long enough for him to get inside it. It worked.” She smiled sweetly at Crowe. “Being part of this won’t be anywhere near as dangerous as what we faced in the Battle of the Bulge.” She took his hands in hers. “And this time I promise not to flash my titties at anyone.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  “I knew I should trust my instincts when I got up this morning. This tingling feeling all over told me this was going to be a bad day,” Saffron said.

  “Panic attack.”

  “That’s what Dad said. It wasn’t just a panic attack, but Dad doesn’t always get that I have intuition because I’m mortal. Or at least he thinks I am. For a while after I found out the bad news I was pissed at him; I thought he must know all about what my DNA showed.”

  “Which is?”

  “That my paternal DNA isn’t human. Weren’t you briefed on this?”

  “My instructions were to fetch you; I was not told why.”

  “Typical. But being pissed at him was the real panic attack part because he has never lied to me about anything. Ever.”

  “Are you sure?” Gregor asked.

  He’d told her not to talk, and she had been quiet for a while. For over an hour there had only been the growl of the engine, the howl of wind, the heavy slap of the windshield wipers, and his occasional swearing as invisible ice patches tried to run the SUV off the road.

  The big engine and four-wheel-drive transmission were willing, but the snow piling up made it harder and harder to drive this rural, infrequently traveled road. Maybe the locals were too smart to venture out in such bad weather.

  At some point she’d brought out a cell phone.

  She’d ignored his, “Don’t.”

  But she had discovered that the battery was low. He refused to let her plug it into the dashboard outlet, telling her they needed all the power for driving. The girl had settled back in her seat with an annoyed sigh, stared ahead, and crossed her arms.

  Then she’d started talking.

  He’d tried to ignore her, tried to block her voice out, considered throttling her. Then he realized what a fount of information she was about Strahan’s organization.

  “You’re not questioning Tobias, are you?” she asked protectively. “Has he ever lied to you?”

  The girl was upset, chattering because of it, and dying to find an outlet for all her tension. She was wearing pink gloves on her tightly coiled fists.

  “Tobias Strahan has never lied to me,” he told her.

  She reluctantly relaxed.

  “Disappointed that I won’t argue with you?” he asked.

  “You sound like Dad.”

  “Really? We aren’t that close.”

  “You’re new to the Crew, right? I don’t recognize you, Greg.”

  “You recognized that I am Prime the moment you saw me. How did a mortal girl manage that?”

  The girl laughed. “I’ve been around Primes all my life.”

  Making her trusting of all Primes? Tobias should have trained her better than that.

  “You didn’t answer me,” she said. “How long have you been with us? I don’t remember the name Greg in our database.”

  “Not everyone shows up in the official records.”

  She was impressed. “Dad sent one of the black ops guys to pick me up?”

  He fought down the urge to smile at her sudden look of hero worship. “I was in the area.”

  “Where are we heading?” she asked.

  “New York.”

  “Dad doesn’t want me in Los Angeles?”

  “The op there is still hot.”

  “If he thinks I’m going off to London with my friend’s family after what I found out today, he’s crazy.”

  “You’re not going to London.”

  Saffron accepted this information with a satisfied nod. She even settled back in her seat to watch the headlights forming a tunnel in the driving snow.

  After a few minutes of silence, Gregor asked, “Who’s Dragomir?”

  “A Tribe Prime,” she answered. “Harpy Tribe, I think.”

  Gregor hadn’t expected her to recognize the name any more than he had when the Master mentioned Dragomir. Not only hadn’t the mortal girl not shown any surprise at the question, she gave him the information as if she was used to being quizzed about all sorts of esoteric facts. What an odd education the Dark Angels are providing this mortal mascot of theirs.

  “You think Dragomir’s a Harpy?” he asked.

  “You don’t have to be sarcastic,” she answered. “Harpies have been hiring out as mercenaries, but their master Dragomir’s one of the Primes who have dropped out of sight since the Bosnian raids.”

  “So he is,” Gregor answered.

  He knew about the Dark Angels tearing apart a Tribe alliance with the Eastern European underworld, but he wasn’t as up on the details as Saffron, and he should have been.

  He didn’t show how frustrated he was that this kid was crammed full of information he lacked. Knowledge was power; knowledge could save your life or get you killed.

  Saffron was a pawn in some game the Master had decided to play, but Gregor recognized how valuable she would be because of all she knew. The Master wouldn’t appreciate her except as an adolescent sex toy. Gregor gripped the steering wheel tighter, furious at what insane bastards Tribe Primes were. Saffron was no pawn as far as he was concerned.

  “Tell me more about Dragomir,” he said. When she gave him a puzzled look, Gregor added, “I need you to help keep me awake while I drive through this shit.”

  “Dad wouldn’t like you swearing around me.”

  Gregor smirked. “I beg your pardon, Lady Saffron. Dragomir?”

  “Why is everything always homework?” she complained. “Dragomir is suspected to have had ties to some mortal terrorist groups in the nineties. But taking sides in politics turned out not to be profitable and he dropped that hobby. His Tribe is probably still involved wi
th dealing arms to any mortal groups that want to fight each other.”

  “Probably?”

  “The Tribes have started making much better use of mortal front people than in the old days. It’s getting harder to follow their movements.” She gave him a curious look.

  “Very good,” Gregor said, praising her. “I think I’ll keep you around.”

  “Thanks. What’s that up ahead?”

  “That” was the whirling red lights atop a police vehicle parked sideways across the narrow road. They were almost to the nearest town with an entrance to a main highway, and now this.

  Gregor considered barreling through the roadblock, but that wasn’t the sort of thing a Dark Angel would do. Besides, with the road so slippery there was no telling what could happen.

  As it was, Gregor was barely able to stop the SUV before he hit the other vehicle.

  An officer dressed in a heavy quilted coat got out and approached through the storm. Gregor reluctantly lowered his window, letting in the biting cold.

  “Yes, officer?” Gregor asked, speaking loudly over the wind. He prepared to catch the cop’s gaze to manipulate his thoughts as necessary.

  He turned out to be a she. “All the roads are closed,” she shouted back. “You’ll have to remain in the area.”

  “But we have a plane to catch,” Gregor said in protest. “We’re trying to get home for the holidays.”

  “Not tonight, sir. The blizzard has the whole state closed down, including the airports.”

  “I was planning on taking a train,” Saffron muttered beside him.

  “The roads are closed,” the police officer repeated. “Power’s out too. But the motels by the interchange outside of town are taking people in. Follow me, I’ll take you to the turnoff.”

  Gregor watched the cop make her way back to her vehicle. He only remembered to put the window back up when he heard Saffron’s teeth begin to chatter. The weather wasn’t fit for mortals to be out in, that was certain.

  “What are we going to do?” Saffron asked.

  “We’re following the officer to the nearest motel,” he answered.

  “But—how am I going to tell my dad where I am if the power’s out?” There was a trace of panic in the girl’s tone.

  “Don’t worry.” He touched his temple. “Remember that Uncle Greg’s a telepath.”

  He took his foot off the brake and eased the SUV forward, following the flashing red lights of the cop car down the dangerous road.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  This is a bad idea.

  You’re only thinking that because it’s not your idea, Commander Control Junkie, Francesca replied.

  I did think of it, princess mine, and I knew it was bad. Necessary, but bad.

  Francesca smiled, sending the emotion of it through the connection between them. He was on guard outside the building. She was inside Orion’s Belt with the other women from the clinic.

  Then she consciously stopped paying complete attention to the presence of Tobias in her mind, built up the barriers that were trying to dissolve and make them one. She reminded herself that the connection was harder on Tobias’s ability to remain rational than it was on hers.

  Like every vampire, she’d been trained since she was a baby to wrap a barrier around her private self while still being aware of every other telepath around her. Bonding put a strain on that barrier, made it fade and blend.

  She’d never been convinced bonding was a good thing, and now that she was experiencing it she still wasn’t sure. Hormones and endorphins and orgasms and psychic highs made the victims crave it. Clan and Family vampires were convinced bonding was the pinnacle of all they were. Tribe vampires considered it a perverted evil and used perverted, evil practices to fight it. Francesca acknowledged the instinct was implacable and impossible to deny, but impossible to ignore? Maybe not.

  Weren’t Rose and Crowe’s years of living apart evidence that it was possible to . . . cope?

  “Are you all right?” Rose asked. “You seem distracted.”

  Rose had just stepped out of the dressing room in the back of the shop. She was wearing a sage-green cocktail sheath from the early sixties.

  “I was thinking about you, actually,” Francesca answered. “That suits you.”

  “It ought to; I used to own one just like it.” She ran a hand down the heavy matte silk of the bodice. “In fact, I think this might be mine.” She smiled wistfully. “I keep reliving my past, apparently.”

  “Well, if you like your past, why not?”

  Rose turned away from the full-length mirror she’d been gazing into. “I can see my past on TCM anytime. It’s the future I’m looking forward to. Aren’t you?” she added. “After all, that big Prime of yours is something else.”

  “That he is. But then, so am I.”

  “I thought it was Primes who were so . . .”

  “Arrogant is the word you want, Rose. And no, vampire females are worse than the Primes.” She chuckled. “We have to be considering the way the Primes are. Tobias is nicknamed the Über-Prime, by the way.”

  She heard the pride in her voice and tried to be at least a little annoyed with this reaction to Tobias.

  Rose gave her an understanding smile. “How long have you been together?”

  “Two days.”

  Francesca waited for shock, but the mortal laughed instead. “Maybe being in danger speeds up the bonding process,” she said speculatively. “After all, people were shooting at us when Anthony and I met and our connection was . . . amazing.”

  Francesca asked quietly, “Do you mind if I ask a question about that connection?”

  “Celibacy—that’s how I handled it,” Rose answered before Francesca could ask. “You were going to ask how I managed to live away from Anthony for so many years, weren’t you?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  “Why?” Rose gave her a sharply assessing look. “You aren’t simply curious, are you? Why would you want to be separated from your bondmate?”

  “There are lots of reasons, although the only one that counts is that I want to do what’s best for Tobias—for the Dark Angels. For the defense of our people.”

  “That’s very noble.”

  “It sounds that way, doesn’t it? Noble enough to make one gag.” Francesca’s lips twisted into an ironic smile, which faded into a pained sigh. “I am so conflicted, Rose.”

  Rose touched her arm. “Please don’t even think about doing what I did. It’s a lonely life.”

  Francesca knew that well enough. She’d been celibate herself since Patrick’s death—until Tobias came along. Now the spark of life he’d lit inside her threatened to flare up all the time.

  Flare. She hated that word.

  “Anthony didn’t remain celibate,” she said to Rose.

  Francesca knew that he’d sired her best friend, Sidonie Wolfe, and he’d certainly hit on her, just like every other Prime, at Convocations. Of course, he was an old-school gentleman Prime who’d likely seen trying to seduce her as being polite.

  “I know Anthony was with other women,” Rose said. “He and I will probably have some discussions about that. But I suppose it’s very difficult for Primes to go without.”

  “Probably impossible,” Francesca said in agreement. Even the thought of Tobias with another female caused her to burn with jealousy.

  Rose added to her distress when she said, “I always suspected when Anthony was making love to another woman, and it hurt like hell. You are far more telepathic than I’ll ever be; you’d surely feel it deeper than I could.”

  These words cut so deeply into Francesca she had to turn sharply away from the mortal. When she did she almost tripped over their shopping companions.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, and wondered how much they’d overheard.

  Kea and Chiana had drifted through the racks of expensive old clothes to join them during this conversation and she hadn’t been aware of them until now.

  Telepathic suggestion had made certain
that the four of them were the only ones here despite it being the height of the holiday shopping season. The clerks and cashier were taking an extended break in the back room.

  Kea held up a strapless black dress. “Do you think Ali would like me in this?”

  Are you going to be much longer? Tobias’s thought intruded as Francesca began to answer Kea.

  You told me to take my time so everything and everyone could be in place.

  Chiana spoke up. “I’m thinking about buying a bathing suit.”

  Francesca and Kea looked at her in utter surprise.

  “That is the strangest thing you have ever said,” Kea told her friend.

  “Why?” Rose asked.

  “Because she’s a selkie,” Kea replied. “Why would a seal need a bathing suit?”

  “I was joking,” Chiana said.

  Francesca didn’t think the wereseal was capable of joking at the moment. Chiana was pale, thin, and nervous. She definitely needed more than an evening out with the girls for what was ailing her.

  “It’s that boyfriend of yours, isn’t it?” Kea asked Chiana. “He’s put another crazy notion in your head.”

  “You have no idea,” Chiana answered, her voice barely a whisper.

  “I’ve been keeping my mouth shut, hon,” Kea said. “But you have got to dump this guy. He bullies you. Things always have to be his way. We’d all like for interspecies dating to work, but both sides have to make compromises and he—”

  “Interspecies dating?” Francesca asked.

  “She’s been living with a mortal for months now. I don’t even think the guy knows she’s a selkie.”

  “He knows,” Chiana whispered.

  Tobias’s thought filled Francesca’s mind before she could ask any more questions. We’re ready for your close-up now.

  It wasn’t nerves that suddenly tightened Francesca’s muscles, it was the anticipation of coming combat. She slid her tongue over her throbbing fangs.

  These feelings were so wrong. She was going to get herself locked up in a tower someplace if she kept it up.

  She could hardly wait to get into a fight. That was what Tobias Strahan did to her. It was going to bring the Matri Council’s wrath down on him if she didn’t remove herself from the dangerous life he lived. But in the meantime . . .

 

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