Illicit Passions

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Illicit Passions Page 11

by Crystal Jordan


  “By process of elimination, you must be Dominic.” Tori stepped forward and shook his hand, unsure if she should smile back because the glint in his gaze told her he was being so effusive to needle Bastian.

  Dominic waggled his eyebrows. “For a woman as pretty as you, I’d be anyone you wanted.”

  “Really, Dom,” Miranda admonished. “And, Bastian, you haven’t introduced us yet. Mind your manners.”

  Again, that almost-pain flickered deep in Bastian’s gaze, but the smile that touched his mouth looked genuine enough. “Mom, Dad, this is Victoria Haida. She’s the administrative assistant to Jason and Adrian Leonidas. Tori, these are my parents, Michael and Miranda Lykaios. He’s the Alpha, as you know,” he finished drily.

  After stepping forward, Miranda squeezed Tori in a tight hug. “We’re happy to have you join the family.”

  That sent a hot shock through her system. They knew about the mating. And they thought she was joining their family. Oh God. She couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t as if Bastian and she were married. But they’d marked each other as mates, and in the shifter world, that was even more important. Still, she had no idea what to say to these people anymore than she’d known what to say to Ajax. She was only just getting comfortable using the “mate” word around Bastian. “Oh, I—”

  Michael cut her off. “I came out to formally acknowledge your union. The clan will be pleased that Bastian’s finally taken a mate. We’re all looking forward to new wolf cubs.”

  What? He already had her barefoot and pregnant? Hell. Cocking her head, she gave him an incredulous look. “You’re assuming we’d have wolves and not swans.”

  He gave her a mildly condescending glance in return. “The dominant predator in a pairing always dictates the offspring. Surely you know that.”

  No, I don’t know that’s always true, but fuck you very much for trying to educate me on the matter. She was an example of how that wasn’t always true. Her father was a grizzly bear, an apex predator. Her mother was a swan. According to conventional wisdom, all of their children should have been born bears. Tori’s brothers were, but Tori was demonstrably not a grizzly. She kept her mouth shut though. Her parents had never advertised to the shifter community that they were a predator/non-predator pairing who’d borne a non-predator child. For all Tori knew, she might be the only one, but her parents were ferocious about their private family life remaining private. Tori had no desire to discuss this with the wolf Alpha. He gave her the same overbearing vibe as Hector Leonidas, and it ruffled her feathers. The swan within her wanted to hiss in reaction.

  Instead, she just smiled at him. “I don’t count my eggs before they’re hatched, Alpha.”

  He snorted, but his eyes narrowed as if he wasn’t sure if she was being funny or impertinent. She doubted he was the type to brook impertinence.

  Just the kind of guy every sarcastic wench like her wanted for a father-in-law.

  What she’d like to know is how the Lykaioses knew about the mating because if that was really why the Alpha had come, then he’d known before he got here. Bastian hadn’t been forced by an unexpected familial drop-in to explain her presence. She was going to kick his ass.

  Feigning a pleasant tone, she asked, “Can I get you guys something to drink? Maybe a snack?”

  “A beer for me,” Dominic jumped in before his parents could politely refuse, which they looked like they were going to do.

  Blessing him, Tori offered him a smile. She glanced at the parental units. “Michael? Miranda?”

  Miranda said, “Some sweet tea, if you have it.”

  “For me too,” rumbled the Alpha.

  “Great. Bastian, can you help me carry all the glasses?” Latching on to her mate’s arm, she dug her nails in and pulled.

  “Sure.” The resignation in his expression made her want to punch him.

  “Mind if we watch the game?” Dom didn’t bother waiting for an answer. He grabbed the remote, turned on ESPN and cranked up the volume.

  The sound would cover her conversation with Bastian, so she was going to kiss his brother later. The moment they entered the kitchen, she rounded on her wolf. “What. The. Hell. I know the Leonidases aren’t the types to run off at the mouth, so how the hell do they know about us marking each other?”

  Bastian thrust a hand through his hair, his silver gaze sparking ire. “He confronted me about my trip to Arizona—I had to tell him something.”

  “So you threw me under the bus?” She was going to have an aneurysm, right there on the spot. Boom. Head exploded.

  “You’re being melodramatic.” He sighed, looking annoyed that she dared question him, which just made her want to staple things to his forehead. He shrugged. “Distracting my father with the mating seemed like a better idea than opening the door to what that meeting was about. Or what’s coming tomorrow.”

  Just as she’d suspected, what she needed took a backseat to diplomatic intrigue. Frustration crawled through her, tightening her muscles until she wanted to cry. Or scream. She understood that he was under a lot of pressure, that the stakes were high, but his “just come for a visit” line had now turned into a big fat lie. People weren’t supposed to sacrifice their mates for the sake of convenience. Her father would never, ever have done this to her mother.

  “They’re hugging me and welcoming me to the family, saying how they can’t wait for me to pop out your wolf cubs.” She flung out her arms. “What happened to not pressuring me?”

  He had the grace to wince. “Tori, I—”

  “Don’t.” She held up her hand. “Just don’t.”

  Her purse was beside the door and she grabbed it, automatically reaching for the cigarettes she usually smoked when she was stressed. Only they weren’t there anymore. Shit.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I need some air.” She hitched the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “I’m sure you can make excuses to your parents. There has to be someone else you can throw under the bus next.”

  He glowered at her, and the subvocal growl of the wolf made every animal instinct she had screech to life. Her inner bird wanted to spread its wings and launch skyward, escaping the predator’s threat. The human side of her knew Bastian would never harm her, so she suppressed her instincts. Instead, she dug out her keys and slammed through the backdoor, heading straight for her car.

  She had to get out of here. She needed a moment to get her head on straight, because it looked like it was time to make some permanent decisions. Ready or not, the wolves had come.

  Resisting the urge to peel rubber down the driveway, flinging gravel behind her in her haste to escape, she kept the car to a sedate speed.

  Thank God the highway was curved enough to make her concentrate. It gave her something to focus on, something that wasn’t Bastian Lykaios. A wonderful man who came with so many strings attached. But if she wanted the man, she’d have to take those strings too.

  She loved him, and it was tearing her apart inside. A tear slid down her cheek and she swiped at it roughly.

  Another car roared up behind her, riding her bumper. Normally, she’d leave the jerk in her dust, but she wasn’t in the mood for racing today and she wasn’t that confident in the Impala’s abilities. The other car feinted a few times, nearly clipping her fender before the driver sped up to pass her. Her heart rate bumped up at the close call.

  “Road raging assclown,” she grumbled, slowing to let the maniac go by. “Where the hell is a cop when you need one? Never around, that’s for damn sure.”

  Just as the car drew even with her, she glanced over and saw a middle-aged couple inside. Neither of them looked at her. No, they were busy arguing with each other. The driver’s face was flushed as he shouted. The woman in the passenger seat reached over and slapped him. Hard. Then she dove for the steering wheel.

  Tori slammed on the brakes and jerked the Impala toward the side of the road, but not fast enough to keep from getting sideswiped. Head whipping unnaturally to the side as metal cr
unched on metal, she felt muscles and tendons scream in protest from the abuse. Fighting to control the car as it began to spin, she managed to get the Impala onto the shoulder while the other car kept right on going, still swerving across lanes.

  Breathing hard, sweat dripping down her face, she tried to control the shaking in her limbs. Her knuckles showed white where they gripped the wheel, but she couldn’t seem to make herself let go. “Fucking cunterrific douchenozzle pissant motherbitches. Irresponsible asshat drivers are gonna get people killed. You’re goddamn lucky I’m a good driver or you might have gotten us all killed.”

  She kept muttering as she unbuckled her seat belt, which took an embarrassing amount of concentration because her fingers still quaked. Getting out the normal way proved impossible because the other vehicle had hit just in front of the driver’s side door, wedging the door shut. It had probably warped the frame too, which pissed her off because of all the things that had been wrong when she bought the Impala, the frame had been nice and straight.

  “Bastards.” Finally, she twisted and squirmed until she could haul herself out of the window to check the extent of damage.

  Yep, bent frame, dented door, scrapes, dings and other problems, but nothing she couldn’t fix. The engine was okay and they hadn’t hit the wheel well. So…it could have been worse. Then there was her physical damage. Her neck tinged and ached, and even with her shifter healing abilities, it was going to take at least a day for the whiplash to subside.

  The rumble of an engine approached and she glanced up to see the idiots returning. “Oh, they just now noticed they maybe hit someone, huh? Fuckwits.”

  Shifting around to face them as they did a U-turn and pulled in behind her, she propped her hands on her hips.

  The woman hopped out first. “Oh, my goodness. Are you all right?”

  She had a distinctly nasal New England accent, which meant she wasn’t from around here. Their car looked like a rental, so Tori guessed they were tourists. She tried not to roll her eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. My car, however…”

  The older woman cast a dubious glance at the Impala. “How can you tell?”

  Oh, really? Run her off the road and then insult her new baby? No way in hell. Tori crossed her arms and glared. “I’m going to need your insurance information. Now.”

  “I have it.” The gangly driver approached, looking nervous and sweaty, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Something about him was…off. Tori didn’t know why she thought so, but something about him had her wanting to back away. He looked too twitchy. Drugs, maybe? It didn’t help that the woman—his wife?—pinned him with a murderous glare that could have peeled flesh off bones. She suddenly didn’t look so harmless. What was up with these people?

  “We’ll need your information, so we can report this.” The woman gave her a sickly smile, and Tori edged away. The whole situation felt weird and she wanted to escape as quickly as possible.

  “Fine.” Tori hustled around to her passenger side, reaching through the window to open the glove box and grab her paperwork. Her neck locked in protest at the quick movements and she gritted her teeth. She heard the crunch of gravel underfoot as the couple followed her, which made her hurry. She didn’t like having to turn her back on them, mere humans or not.

  Then she felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her thigh. After jerking upright, she spun around to see the woman smiling with deranged glee as she lowered a strange-looking gun. Tori looked down where her flesh stung. A needle protruded from her leg and the sharp pain turned to burning fire in her muscles. “What the f—”

  And the world went black.

  The sun had long set and Bastian sat on the porch, waiting for Tori. She wasn’t answering her cell phone, but these mountains didn’t get the best reception. So maybe she wasn’t ignoring him. Maybe.

  Some deep, agonized part of him suspected she might have decided to keep on driving until she reached Arizona. She’d said she’d leave whenever she wanted, and he’d sworn not to stop her. Uneasiness scraped at his nerves, and it took every last ounce of his control to keep from tracking her down and…what? Wrestle her into coming home with him? Force her into staying? That wasn’t how mating worked. Plus, a bird-shifter could fly away any time she wanted unless he intended to lock her in a cage forever. She had to want to stay.

  Restlessness ate at him, and he jerked to his feet to pace his way around the porch in endless circles. The knowledge that something was wrong nagged at him until his sanity was in tatters. Of course something was wrong. His mate had left him.

  His mate had left him.

  The pain of that thought was staggering, and the wolf inside him howled, clawing for release. But primitive beast couldn’t win this one—the human love game was far more complex than wolf mating. He bent over and grabbed his knees, sucking in a deep breath. God, how would he convince her to come back? How could he make her want to stay? Today was just a taste of what his family would offer. Entanglements, demands, always in each other’s lives and business. He loved that about them, but for a woman who lived nowhere near her family, maybe that was a little too much togetherness. Then there was the future-Alpha thing. Sure, Bastian had power and connections, which so many women had wanted in the past, but a handful of days with Tori had shown how little that impressed her. What did he have to offer a woman like her? Not enough, apparently. Or maybe too much. More than she was willing to put up with.

  He didn’t know. He just knew he ached like he’d been sucker punched. Watching her walk away had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. He hadn’t even been able to think clearly enough to come up with excuses for his family. They’d tried to stay and fuss over him, but after a couple of hours he’d ejected them from his house. He needed to lick his wounds in private.

  His phone’s screen lit and Tori’s ringtone sounded. The cell almost vibrated itself off the porch railing while he lunged to grab it. She was calling. What did that mean? Had she decided not to leave after all? God, he fucking hoped so.

  “Hey, did you get lost?” He forced his tone to casual, bottling up the frustrated fear that ate at his soul.

  A long, crackly pause came over the line, and he worried she might be losing cell reception. Then a cold, terrifyingly calm voice answered him.

  “We have Victoria Haida.”

  Chapter Nine

  After they’d gotten the swan installed in their lab, Barbara meticulously sorted through the blonde’s purse for any further clues to her identity. Her driver’s license listed her as Victoria Ann Haida of Tucson, Arizona, which meant she didn’t live in the house they’d followed her from. So who did live there? More hybrids? Another colony, perhaps? Or just the man they’d seen her in a lip-lock with at an Italian restaurant in Chattanooga the night before?

  Barbara had combed through all of Nichols’s article notes and he believed many of these werekind lived in groups—clans—scattered around the country. He’d been in Georgia because he believed the town’s mayor might be a shifter and wanted to expose the man. But that was his problem, not hers. Picking up the swan’s cell phone, Barbara scrolled through the contact list and call log, wondering how many of them were also hybrids. There were several missed calls from someone named Bastian Lykaios. The picture that popped up on the screen for him was certainly the man they’d seen the swan kissing.

  Lykaios. The name jolted through her like electricity.

  Nichols thought a man named Michael Lykaios was his anonymous informant. Which made him Barbara’s informant too. Her chest burned, and her hands trembled for a moment. How closely was this Bastian related? She swiveled her desk chair to face her computer and went searching through all of Nichols’s many notes. It took a while, but she found the connection. The fox-shifter’s family was close to the Lykaios family. Nichols thought that Michael Lykaios might be their clan’s leader. Nichols had dug through public records to find what he could about the family, and Michael’s eldest son was named Bastian. And Bastian owned a home with the same address where they�
�d tracked Victoria Haida.

  Lykaios had cost her everything, and hate flooded her, bitter as bile. Her breath rushed out and her hands balled into fists, but a smile spread across her face. She wondered what Michael or his son might do to get Victoria back. There might be some leverage in that for Barbara to get what she wanted—recognition. And vengeance.

  “I never agreed to kidnap anyone,” Hastings bleated, pulling her attention to where he slumped against the wall like a petulant child.

  She gave an incredulous snort. “What did you think we were going to do when we followed her? Ask her to tea?”

  His mouth worked, and then a pugnacious expression stamped his features. “You could have killed her when you rammed her car. Then where would we be? Observing a dead body?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We barely tapped that junk heap she was driving,” she retorted with exaggerated patience. Didn’t he realize how important their science would be to the world? They would be legends. They would have their revenge on those who’d scorned them. They’d have their revenge on those who’d gotten them into this mess in the first place—hybrids. Michael Lykaios, more specifically.

  Barbara Powell would have the last laugh. She’d go down in history.

  But that didn’t mean she had to take this weak-willed milquetoast sop with her into academic renown. She folded her arms. “So what do you want to do, Hastings? What’s your grand idea?”

  “I don’t know.” He ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. He gestured to the room around them, a defunct medical clinic out in the sticks. It worked well for their needs. “I set up the lab. You were supposed to find us a specimen.”

  “And I have.”

  “A willing specimen!”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You thought we’d set up an illegal lab that doesn’t follow any of the normal human subject testing rules and then we’d get willing subjects?” Then again, these hybrids weren’t exactly human subjects, were they? The normal rules didn’t apply. What they were doing was really no different than performing tests on rabbits or monkeys. Of course, they weren’t following approved protocol for that either, so why bother splitting hairs?

 

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