by L. L. Raand
“They kept us drugged,” Gray said. “Katya more than me. Still, it’s hard to remember—they didn’t give us food, tormented us, tried to force us to tangle.”
“We couldn’t stop them from making us…do things.” Katya shivered. “I couldn’t keep them from taking what they wanted.”
Drake growled, her midnight eyes darker than the sky. “I saw the lab. I saw the restraining tables, the instruments, the drugs. They paid with their lives for what they did to you.”
“We didn’t tangle for them,” Katya whispered. “They drained us, but we didn’t give them everything. We never bit, we never completely emptied…”
“If you had,” Drake said, “even if you’d wanted to, it wouldn’t have been your fault. I suspect they gave you some kind of synthetic mating hormone. You couldn’t have resisted that, but you both fought back. The Alpha and I are proud of you.”
“Parts of it are like a dream—a bad dream you never wake up from,” Gray said. “There were men who came for us, but now their faces are blurred, as if I was seeing them through a curtain of fog. I can’t tell them apart anymore, can’t remember what they were called.”
“The aftereffects of the silver poisoning have altered your nervous system. Your memory has been distorted, but it may come back at any time. Don’t try to force it. Whatever you can remember right now is fine. If more comes later, then tell me or the Alpha.”
“There was a female—” Gray could see the shape of her body on the other side of the bars, smell her desire, feel the heat kindling in her belly at the sound of her voice. The face was a shadow, but Gray remembered the thrum of sex in her blood when the smooth voice caressed her. She remembered wanting to fuck her, and she remembered laughter. A shower of laughter that cut like shards of silver. Gray growled, her thighs flexing restlessly, her clitoris tightening. Her glands pulsed and her hips jerked at the touch of rough hands on her sex, white-hot lightning streaking through her, the whip of pleasure snapping her control, forcing her to release. “She wanted us excited.”
“Another Were?” Drake asked, her voice gravelly.
“Not a wolf,” Gray said immediately.
“We think they might’ve been using cat Weres as guards,” Drake said.
Gray had never seen a cat Were. She’d only been off the Compound a few times, once with Fala when she’d gone to the police station to see where Fala worked. She remembered not liking it there—too many bodies, too many foreign scents—gasoline, smoke, sweat. Too many humans. Her eyes flew open. “A human. A human female.”
“One of the guards?”
Gray felt the press of power in her blood, thrilled to the command in the melodious voice. “No, not a guard. She was in charge.”
“Would you know her again?”
“I think so,” Gray murmured, aching with the need to be over her, inside her. She shuddered. She would kill her if she ever saw her again. Kill her because she still wanted her.
“What you’re feeling,” Drake said gently, “is because of everything that happened to you there. There is no shame in it.”
Katya turned her head on Gray’s shoulder, her eyes deep pools of misery. “They made us want things. Need things.”
“I know.”
“We didn’t…They wanted us to tangle, so they could—” Katya jerked upright. “I remember! I remember at the end—I was chained, hanging, I think. She held me, she…took the pain away.”
“Who? The human female?”
“No,” Katya said, her voice wavering. “Not human.”
Drake looked from Katya to Gray. “You’re sure about the female? That she was human?”
“Yes.” Even now, Gray’s skin tingled with the memory of the female’s pheromones coating her. Sweeter and subtler than Were, but still powerfully enticing. Her wolf bounded to her feet. The scent of sex coated Gray’s tongue. She remembered tearing free from the restraints, leaping from the table, ready to take her. “She was there. In the lab. At the end.”
Drake said to Katya, “But she’s not the one you remember?”
“No,” Katya said, her voice distant. “I felt her inside me, deep in my blood. She made them stop hurting me. She made me come.” Katya pushed away from Gray. “She made me come, when she bit me.”
“Vampire,” Drake said flatly.
“Yes, yes.” Katya rubbed her arms, pressed her hands down her thighs. “She was…beautiful.”
*
Drake found Sylvan at her desk at headquarters. She motioned Niki out of the room. “I need to speak to the Alpha alone.”
“Yes, Prima.” Niki spun on her heel and left quickly, closing the door quietly behind her.
Sylvan rose and leapt easily over the desk, landing in front of Drake to grasp her shoulders lightly. “What is it? I could feel your fury across the Compound. I would have come to you except I knew you were on your way here.”
“I just finished speaking with Katya and Gray. When we find who is responsible, I want to leave their bodies on the steps of the state capitol building. I want everyone to know that no one touches our wolves and lives.” Drake grasped Sylvan’s hips and yanked her forward, kissing her hard. She needed the taste of her mate to settle her mind, to temper her wrath so she could think. All she wanted to do right now was kill.
“It shall be done,” Sylvan whispered when Drake released her. She kept her arms around Drake and raked her canines down Drake’s neck, running her tongue back up the faint crimson trail. “How are they?”
“Considering everything they’ve been through, amazingly well. But they’re both traumatized. Their memories are fractured. Their wolves barely under control. They both need to tangle and I’m not sure who to trust them with. They’re volatile and strong young wolves and they’re going to be wild.”
“I’ll deal with that,” Sylvan said. “Did they tell you anything to help us?”
“Right now, they can’t remember enough to identify their captors.”
“Something they said has made you furious. What is it?”
“Even by Were standards they’re barely sexually mature. And both of them have been abused. By humans and at least one Vampire.”
“A Vampire,” Sylvan said softly, her body going as still as a predator crouched in the brush, stalking prey. “They’re sure?”
“Katya still shows signs of being enthralled. Whoever fed from her was very powerful. I suspect Gray had more than one exposure to a human female. Judging by the extent of Gray’s visceral response to the memory, she was sexually taunted and seduced.”
“Weres are not usually susceptible to human pheromones,” Sylvan said. She nuzzled Drake’s neck. “Your effect on me was rare.”
“But not unheard of. There are human and Were matings,” Drake pointed out.
“Not true matings, but you’re right, interspecies breeding is possible. Val’s mother was Were, her father human.”
“Probably some humans are more compatible with Weres than others, or,” Drake said, “extreme deprivation over a long period of time may have increased Gray’s susceptibility to human pheromones.”
“We knew humans had to be behind this—they are the only group with the financial capability and organization to pull this off. But a human-Vampire alliance?” Sylvan snarled. “Let’s see what our new ally has to say about that.”
“Sylvan,” Drake said reluctantly, “Jody may be an ally, but she is a Vampire first.”
“As I am the Timberwolf Alpha before all else.” Sylvan kissed Drake hard enough to bruise, and Drake welcomed the small bite of pain.
“What are you going to do?” Drake asked.
“Unless I’m greatly mistaken, no Vampire could be involved without the Viceregal knowing. We’ll hear what Jody has to say, and after we’ve checked out the installation again, we’ll pay the Viceregal a visit.”
Chapter Thirteen
The buzzer rang just as Veronica finished pouring port into a crystal glass. She glanced at the antique walnut mantel clock above the
marble fireplace. Seven p.m. precisely. She smiled. She valued precision, especially in those in her employ. Waiting a moment—sending a subtle reminder of who was in charge—she pressed the intercom. “Yes?”
“We have an appointment, Dr. Standish,” a cool, husky voice replied.
“Yes, we do.” Veronica smiled to herself. She recognized the voice. And how like that Vampire to respond with a subtle challenge of her own, not the slightest hint of respect or subservience in her voice. She liked that about the Vampires, although under certain circumstances their lack of appropriate deference could be problematic. All the same, she enjoyed the tingle in her clitoris at the sound of Michel’s voice. A monitor, concealed in a bookcase next to the fireplace, revealed three individuals outside her door. Michel she recognized, lean and dark and lethal, even in apparent repose. The two Vampires with her were dressed similarly—black shirts open at the throat, tapered black pants, narrow belts around tight trim hips. No weapons that she could see. Of course, they were the weapons. “Take the stairs to the top floor. The door on the right.”
“Thank you.”
Veronica buzzed them in and crossed back to the open doors of the balcony and stepped outside. The night was clear and pleasantly cool. Light from the old-fashioned street lamps scattered throughout the park winked through the trees. She wondered briefly if the Vampires at her door had fed on any of the humans who ran along the paths below, going about their mundane and unexciting lives, unsuspecting of the monsters stalking them. She had never actually seen a Vampire feeding, other than the one brief time when she’d observed Michel feeding from a Were during her experiments—her aborted experiments, thanks to the treachery of one human guard and the persistence of Sylvan Mir. She’d been interrupted before she could gather the data she wanted—or share in the vicarious pleasure. Even now, anger at the memory of her lab being overrun with creatures coiled in her belly like a serpent, venomous and unrequited. Sooner or later, every one of them would pay. In the greater scheme of things, she wanted to biologically control the Were species, if not eradicate them altogether, for the good of humankind. On a personal level, she wanted to look into their eyes as they died, knowing she had triumphed. She wanted them to know that she, personally, had been responsible for their downfall. After all, behind every action, no matter how noble or ignoble, lay personal motivation. No one acted purely for the common good, no matter what they would have you believe. She at least admitted it. Fortunately, her goal to purify and protect the human genome was supported by any number of individuals and groups who wanted to exterminate the Praeterns. She merely took advantage of their resources.
A knock sounded on the living room door. Setting her glass aside, she smoothed her white silk shirt over her breasts, lingering just an instant on the tightness of her nipples, unburdened by a bra, beneath the sheer material. She squeezed lightly, sending the tingling into the pit of her stomach, and opened the door. The pair with Michel were as attractive as she expected—a female slightly shorter than Michel and reed-slender like so many of the Vampires, and a male, blond and handsome in an almost too-refined way. She thought briefly of Francesca, so very different from her minions. They’d only met in person once, but the Viceregal was a presence one couldn’t forget. Voluptuous, sensual, radiating power with such casual disregard Veronica found herself so aroused she’d needed to masturbate as soon as she’d been alone. No hardship, but surprising, that a woman had incited such an uncontrollable response. Then she’d witnessed Michel feeding, and she’d understood. The Vampire thrall functioned beyond sexuality or gender—it struck at the primitive core of desire programmed into the DNA of every living being. Her clitoris tightened further. She was going to enjoy having these creatures around. “Come in.”
Michel entered first, her dark gaze sliding down Veronica’s body, fixing on the points of Veronica’s nipples with arrogant disregard for decorum. Her eyes, when they rose to Veronica’s, glinted scarlet. “Good evening.”
Veronica backed away and indicated the seating area with the sweep of her arm. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you anything? I was just having some port.”
“No, thank you.” Michel remained standing, as did the two guards with her, until Veronica retrieved her port and settled at the end of a butter-soft, cream-colored leather sofa. She crossed her legs, unobtrusively drawing the hem of her black silk skirt up her thigh. She watched Michel’s eyes track her movements, thinking how very much Michel’s hot gaze resembled that of a cat following the path of a mouse across the floor. Oh yes, they were predators. Beautiful, sensual predators. The idea of taming them made her wet.
At some signal from Michel she didn’t see, the two guards sat on the matching sofa opposite her while Michel indolently leaned against the fireplace, her long, lean legs crossed at the ankles, her black boots gleaming. A bit of silver flashed at her wrist.
Veronica amended her first impression. She’d been wrong—they did have weapons, at least Michel did. A knife strapped on the inner aspect of her right arm. She remembered now, the slash of a blade releasing the Were female from the overhead restraint, allowing the captive to drop into Michel’s arms, and the quick flash of Michel’s incisors striking the Were’s neck. Veronica’s breathing quickened as she recalled the Were’s frantic moans, her struggle to climax, and the flood of crimson followed by the shine of release coating her twitching thighs.
“Please tell your mistress I appreciate your assistance. But tell me, how will we manage daytime events?”
Michel smiled faintly. “Raymond is human. He will escort you during the day, and in the evening, Luce will be your primary guard, although Raymond will also be available. Should you for any reason need other assistance, we will see that you are well attended.”
Veronica glanced briefly at her new bodyguards. Now that she saw them together, she detected the difference. Raymond was indeed beautiful by any standards, but his eyes did not carry the gleam of power that radiated from Luce’s. He would no doubt be enjoyable in bed, and she looked forward to finding out, but Luce—she promised something more than an orgasm. She offered an experience beyond simple desire.
“I hope there comes a time when you might grace me with your presence, Senechal,” Veronica said, showing Francesca’s ambassador the appropriate respect in front of her underlings. “Your previous visit was disappointingly short.”
Michel leaned back, her smile flickering over her exposed incisors. A wave of red heat flowed through Veronica’s body, flushing her breasts, swelling her sex. If she tightened her thighs, she would orgasm where she sat. She laughed at the audacity of the beautiful Vampire. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Michel inclined her head, her fiery gaze fixed on Veronica’s throat. “With pleasure, Dr. Standish.”
*
“Stay with the Alpha,” Niki said to Andrew and Max, who stood post outside the Alpha’s office on the wide balcony overlooking the first floor meeting area. “I’ll be outside.”
“Yes, Imperator,” Andrew said, and the restless churning in Niki’s belly settled. Here, with the rhythm of the Pack thrumming through her blood, she knew who she was and what she had to do. She leapt over the railing and landed easily on the stone floor a story below, the muscles in her thighs tensing as the shock rippled through her. Her wolf stretched, awakening inside her skin again. Straightening, she pulled air deep into her lungs, searching for the one taste she craved. There. Undercutting the essence of all the Weres and wildlife, blunting even the seductive allure of the Vampires, the one single tantalizing scent that drew her like no other. Sophia.
She pushed through the enormous wooden doors and bounded down onto the hard-packed earth in the center of the complex. She knew where Sophia was, and she wanted her out of that room. Away from Lara.
She strode quickly across the yard and vaulted onto the porch, nodded to the Vampire’s guards who flanked the door, and powered down the hall. She’d been where Sophia was now, and she was done pretending she did
n’t care. She’d had enough. She did not knock.
She shouldered into the dimly lit room and let the door swing closed behind her.
A growl filled the room. Lara, naked, held Sophia with an arm around Sophia’s shoulders, a possessive gesture that brought Niki’s wolf roaring to life. Her jaw elongated and her vocal cords thickened so she could barely speak around her snarl. “I’ve come for Sophia.”
“Sophia is with me.” Challenge in Lara’s voice.
Niki had been challenged too many times for this female, and she ached to fight, but she remembered the Alpha’s warning. If she could not control her wolf, she could not be trusted. Claws burst through her fingertips and pelt shot down her abdomen. Blood dripped onto the rough wood floor. She strode to the bed and held out her hand to Sophia, ignoring Lara’s warning snarl. “Come with me.”
“She is not yours to call,” Lara rumbled.
Sophia sat up, slipping out from under Lara’s shielding arm. “Nor yours,” she said softly.
“You don’t have to go with her,” Lara said. “Your blood fills me—stay.”
“Your Vampire rules you now,” Sophia murmured gently, “or you’d know I can’t.”
“I feel your need,” Lara said. “Come back when it grows too great.”
Sophia kissed Lara’s cheek. “I’m all right. Will you be all right?”
Lara pushed upright, her back against the wall. Her eyes shone more amber than crimson, more wolf than Vampire, but her scent was a mixture of both. She nodded curtly. “Go. And…thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” Sophia said, rising from the bed. She pulled on the T-shirt and jeans she’d shed earlier. “I told you, my need as well as yours.”
Niki’s chest tightened, knowing that Lara had given Sophia what she had not been able to, what Sophia would not accept from her—release and with it, pleasure. She didn’t resent Sophia finding relief where she could, but she couldn’t bear to see Sophia in Lara’s arms. She gently closed her fingers around Sophia’s hand. “Please.”