by Billi Jean
“If there were immortals or anyone else on two legs here, we’d know it. The immortals I’ve met like to show you how tough they are, not hide in the shadows and wait for you to leave.”
She blew out a breath. He was right, in his Kincaid-like way. If there was anyone else here, they’d let them know—or not, and just kill her and Kincaid without saying a word.
“Besides, Jack and Trouble said that Balrick was here working on something alone when Bryson brought him in.”
She blinked. “Jack? Who’s Jack?”
“Who’s Jack?” he repeated with a slow grin. “Hell, I forgot. Jack is—or was —a team commander, and now, well, damn, Sparky, he and Trouble are married or something like that.”
She stumbled to a stop, so shocked all she could do was blink when he reached over and closed her mouth with a finger under her chin.
“I see I shocked you, huh? Well, he’s not human exactly anymore. Balrick bit him.”
“What?”
“Balrick was some kind of Vampire and Lykae combined.”
“Balrick, Alrick the king of…well, most Lykaes’, brother? The Balrick who was tortured in front of me? That Balrick?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“He bit a human? Jack. And now he and my—” She was about to say head of her coven, but frowned, because she wasn’t sure that was accurate any longer. “Trouble, are mated.”
“Yeah, is that a problem?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said faintly. “No, that’s okay. I mean, great.”
“Anyway, liar,” he said and nudged her with his shoulder, “we can talk about it all later, but Balrick was claiming to make some nasty mother—uh—creatures that would be loyal to him. Maybe this,” he pointed to the lab, “is where he worked.”
She rubbed her chest, feeling the odd rough edge of skin where the blade had dug into her chest.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said, dropping her hand. It was difficult trying to process it all at one time. He seemed to accept that, and as they walked, he motioned to the compound.
“I’m hoping we find a way to neutralize these guys, and more intel on what happened to my buddies, possibly a cure, and I’m hoping it’s down here, but then, yeah, we gotta go outside in the cold.”
“Why didn’t we start in Siberia for your friends?” That had bothered her since this craziness had started.
Kincaid scratched his jaw. “I had a gut feeling it all starts here. They aren’t at that compound. It was blown sky-high. They weren’t with the changelings there or else they didn’t want to come in, so that leaves me with four men who are missing and this being my only lead.”
“You already went to the compound up there,” she guessed.
He winked.
“Right, so information,” she muttered. “That’s what we want. Maybe we can find a computer, or something I can use to find out more,” she said, getting a bit excited at the idea.
Kincaid was smart, wicked smart. He had a plan, and was giving her mouse-size morsels, but if she’d been in his shoes, she’d have done the same. Trust wasn’t given. It was earned. She’d read that somewhere. It was pretty true, too.
“We don’t know much at all about the changelings and how Death Stalkers managed to find a way to move a person to,” she added and waved back the way they’d come, “to that. I mean, think on it. An immortal…say, a Vampire, right? They say no to the dark side, and somehow their entire DNA is changed and voila, they’re a beast with fur and run around on all fours.”
“Well, don’t Vampires change shape? Into like…mist and shit?”
“Not sure on the shit, but you can ask Jaxon,” she said, screwing with him, and sure enough, he cracked a grin. A sexy grin, of course. “But,” she said before he could say something sexual—it was always sexual with him, “they do change to other creatures, true.”
He shrugged as if that explained the Death Stalkers being able to force immortals, and humans, into animals. She blinked and stopped in her tracks. Kincaid ran right into her then grumbled something about her butt.
“Are you saying that you think Vampires did this? That they are the ones that came up with the science?” she asked. “Or Balrick?”
“Well,” he shifted his assault rifle and scanned the hallway they’d taken. “They can change into bats, dogs, wolves, and so on, right? So, why not test it out on other people, not Vampires? And Balrick was a Vampire or Vamp-Wolf, Wolf-Vamp, remember? So maybe he knew that with Vampires on his side, he’d be able to do more to the changelings. Jack said something about the man wanting to control the changelings, but never got out of him how.”
She blinked and wanted to scratch her head at the enormity of what he was saying. If Aidan, the King of Vampires, heard him, she’d have to scrap pieces of Kincaid off her boots.
“Makes sense doesn’t it?” he said and nudged her, but this time she didn’t move.
“That’s insane, and please, please, don’t say that to”—she thought of who he could say that kind of thing to, and decided against everyone—“anyone else.”
“Hey, it’s not my theory. Trouble and Jack passed it on.”
“Oh, man, has Trouble brought this up to Aidan?”
He quirked an eyebrow and his grin grew. “Not my business. But I got you thinking. So, how did Joey change? She did, right?”
“Yes, Joey was hit with a syringe, but when I was taken, they were forcing electric currents through my system. They hurt, but wouldn’t have changed me to a four-legged wolf-tiger. And they weren’t all Vampires doing it either.” But quite a few were, now that she thought about it.
“But you think a bite or scratch might do the trick?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, exasperated. “But it was better safe than sorry. How long has it been?”
“Since I was scratched?” He paused and checked his watch. He wore one of those big, serviceable military watches. It was hot on him, but then what wasn’t? “Thirty-nine minutes. So, we need to think bunking down soon, too.”
“Here?” she asked, shocked at the idea.
“Not here, here, but somewhere. It’s nearing bedtime when we have two casualties in one day. Sleeping with me?”
“I am not sleeping with you—”
“We were just about to do the funky chicken and now you won’t cuddle?”
“Kincaid, be serious,” she said, although sleeping—actually sleeping in his arms—would be something she knew she’d like. She wasn’t sure why, but…she guessed she would.
“Fine, but we’ll chalk that up to something we can discuss tomorrow. Can you gate now? From here to your house?”
“Now?”
“Yes, as much as I know you want to go on, I’ve been up almost twenty-eight hours, so now would be good. We break for six or eight, then hit it right here, right after. Deal?”
She didn’t like it, but she saw his point. She was tired, more than she thought an immortal should be. She wanted a bed then a shower. She was that tired. But it felt like giving up, when they’d just gotten something—more information from Kincaid, she realized.
“Deal, but no more, you know,” she muttered and waved from his chest to hers.
“I am dog-tired. I’d not even make it past the first kiss,” he said, sounding sincere, but from the way he watched her face, then lips and breasts…
“Just be serious, and how do we know we won’t gate into a pack of those…”
He frowned then scanned the area and pointed through the windows to a small glass room. “Can we come and go from there?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Come on, then. I’m about done on my feet and that’s when accidents happen,” he said.
She followed, not sure what bothered her more, that she followed him or that she wanted to sleep with him and that’s why she did as he said.
In the end, he took a shower and she fell asleep in her clothes, waiting to see if she’d wake up to him doi
ng something inappropriate. The trouble was, she wasn’t sure she’d mind.
Keeping away from Rick Kincaid was harder, much harder, than anything else she’d ever done.
Chapter Thirteen
“Look, I realize you falling asleep on me last night was a pretty big disappointment on my part, but why are you grumpy today? You slept like a log, even snored.”
Hunter stiffened. “I did not snore, and I didn’t fall—”
“Nah, you didn’t snore, but you were pretty cute. Did you think falling asleep on the couch would prevent cuddling?”
She scanned the floor via the computer feed to the wall unit and tried to ignore Kincaid. It was like trying to ignore the blazing hot noonday sun in your bikini when you were already sunburned to a crisp. “I like my couch.”
“Right,” Kincaid muttered. “So, where should we start? Balrick was working here. What was he working on? Maybe that’s where we should start, or do you need more coffee?”
“I’m fine,” she said, then exhaled. She was disappointed he’d not cuddled with her, but he had picked her up—not waking her—and put her to bed. Actually, she wasn’t sure he hadn’t cuddled her, since he’d been up making breakfast and whistling in her kitchen when she’d woken.
“And, I wasn’t in the know,” she said.
She still didn’t understand Kincaid. He’d been his normal, funny, serious and bossy self this morning. He’d changed her bandage, muttered over it and the wound and made the best breakfast she’d ever eaten. And he’d done it all without seeming to mind being near her or looking at her—or being her teammate.
“I mean,” she began, “I knew he was here. I saw some of the stuff, mostly work on a girl, a Lykae, but I wasn’t in the know on what exactly he was up to. It sounds like you’re more familiar with the details than me.”
Kincaid watched her as she spoke.
“I heard about him,” he said, “through Jack. Balrick wasn’t as innocent as he wanted everyone to believe. He’s dead. Did you know?”
Balrick is dead? And he’d been a Vampire? How did I not know that? A Vamp-Wolf?
She spun and stared at Kincaid.
“I think he was also on the team or running the show that created the changeling serum.”
“He was on the team creating the changeling serum?” she asked. “That’s a first. Do you need a crayon? Don’t spring this stuff on me! Discuss it over a plate of eggs, not when we’re back here, ready to be chased by wild animals!”
He shrugged a big shoulder.
“I think I need a drink,” she muttered, not meaning the Thermos Kincaid tipped in her direction.
“Drinks later. Water’s all you get, Sparky,” he said.
She shook her head but took the offered bottle. Another thing she liked about Kincaid? He really was a rough gentleman. He might hold her chair out for her and all, but he’d also kick it to get her attention.
“Let’s cover some of those floors today. Ready?”
She ignored the obvious answer—no—and not because there might be more changelings on the hidden floors. Instead she headed off, following him as ordered. They walked for some time, more than a few hours, she thought, and still no sign of the beasts or anything else she sensed might be important. Just a lot of white walls, floors and ceilings with labs and odd rooms she thought must have been used to test patients—or victims. The worst was when she entered a room with a silver drain in the floor with a slanted floor, so whatever they did could drain properly. Easy clean-up. But of what? Blood? Or worse.
“So, you’re too quiet.” Kincaid tapped her shoulder with his. “What’s going on in that brain of yours? You solved all our problems?”
“I wish.” If only she could. The only thing she was thinking about was how much she didn’t know about what was going on. “Okay, just hear me out. I mean, what if you’re right? What if the Vampires did create this serum that changes a human or immortal to a beast? What if Balrick had something to add to that? His research was on making Lykae stronger.” She frowned and shook her head. “But, I can’t see him working with Vampires. He’s ancient, you know? The ancient ones always hold on to grudges. I mean, really, really hold on. He’d have to have a reason to become half Vampire, and he’d have to have a reason to work with them.”
“So”—Kincaid stopped them at another corner—“you’re suggesting an alliance between two factions that hate each other, but might now have some common goal?”
She nodded.
“What’s the goal?”
“For Balrick, taking over as king? Or having Markee king.” She considered that, and when Kincaid stayed quiet, went on. “If that was Balrick’s goal, then the Vampires must have also had their own thing going on to work with him.” She winced at her own thoughts.
“What would that be?”
“For the Vampires? I’d guess freedom from Aidan.”
Kincaid laughed softly and shook his head. “And you don’t think you’re the best for this job?” he asked.
“Me? No way. This is big. She threw her arms out but kept her voice down to a murmur, just in case the wild things showed back up. “I mean, we don’t even know if those creatures we followed were changelings.” The feeling of being watched as she said that made her glance around the still-empty white corridor. Kincaid didn’t seem worried. He shrugged.
“No, we don’t, but we will. For all we know, they’ve been infected with something else.” He nodded to the clinic they were still tip-toeing through then started walking again. She followed, still worrying over her theories. They went down a few steps, which puzzled her until they walked a bit farther and spotted the chains hanging from the ceiling with manacles on the end of them. Kincaid grimaced at the floor, where more of those time-saving drains were built into the tiles. Her stomach rolled, but she kept on, following Kincaid’s lead as he took three more steps up then down another hallway.
He paused again to peer through a window set in a door. “This place is big. This much acreage, hidden, is designed for something and I’m guessing since Balrick was here and experimenting on one of his own kind and who knows how many others, it wasn’t good. Your theory still could be it, and that”—he squinted at her and tapped her nose—“is why you are right for this mission.”
“You’re nuts,” she grumbled. There was too much going on. As soon as she thought it, she pulled his arm over to check his wrist. The skin around the scratch was tanned and firm, no lines of infection or anything else to indicate trouble. “It looks okay.”
“It’s fine,” he said, but didn’t pull his hand away. Suddenly she became conscious of just how muscular and tall Rick Kincaid truly was when he stood this close to her. He smelled interesting, too, like her sheets had this morning, spicy and…just a guy smell. She also realized something else—how much she liked that, especially if her instant rush to turned-on meant anything.
She dropped his wrist and tried to get her libido back on track. “It looks okay.”
“You said that. You sure you’re okay?”
She ignored that and surveyed the hallway for the millionth time. All the white was killing her. It was as if they’d tried to hide the evil they did with as much cleanliness as possible. Floor, ceiling, walls—and glass so that you could see in one room and through to another—all covered in a huge splash of white.
“This is a waste of time. Maybe a computer on this floor will have the feed from the other floors.”
He studied her as if she was making excuses.
“Computer genius, remember?” She tapped her temple. “To do my magic, I need a computer to plug into.”
That seemed to satisfy him, because he nodded. Or maybe the white was getting to him as well.
“Right, oh mighty computer wizard. There has to be one around here somewhere. Come on.” He motioned her to go ahead of him. “The fact that we’ve not run into the beasts makes me uneasy, too, but let’s not smack down a gift horse in the mouth. It could mean they’re gone.”
; She didn’t agree, but didn’t have the heart to say it. The fact that he’d pinned her unease that easily was disturbing, though. But her sour mood was also probably fed by her side hurting like hell. She was certain Kincaid was sore, but he was the same ol’ Kincaid. Sucked, really. He had a slight bruise on his forehead, not that he complained, and he seemed on edge. He’d batted her hands away this morning when she’d tried to see if his head was okay. Of course, he’d offered to let her check other parts of him.
“Hold up.” Kincaid paused at another corner. She was beginning to think this place was built in a huge pentagon.
“There. See? Will that do?” She followed the line of his arm to where he was pointing to their right.
Through a glass wall she spotted a computer station. “Oh, yeah,” she breathed, so pleased she could have kissed him. “That will do nicely.”
He gave her an odd, almost bemused, glance and rubbed his jaw. “Okay then, go on. I have your back. Here, give me the water.”
She handed the bottle over and their fingers touched. She swore she was more aware of Rick Kincaid than any other man she’d ever been near. That included lovers, the few she’d had back before all this began, and the immortal men she’d worked with over the past few years.
“Thanks.” The words left her mouth before she even knew what she meant. Thanks for the water, the computer, or just being here, with her? She didn’t know.
He squeezed her shoulder, reassuring her more than his teasing or his hot kisses.
“Just focus on this for now, Sparky, then we take it one step at a time. Bigger problems are solved just like this, all right? Trust me, one step at a time.”
She nodded and they quickly reached the mini-lab room. The door had shut behind them, and the air was chilly enough that each breath showed up like a puff of smoke. She scanned the rows of bottles and jars in the glass front cabinets so she wouldn’t stare at him like some silly girl.
“Where are we? And what are those?”
“I have no idea, but leave them and get on that.” He gestured with his rifle to the closest computer then shoved his hair off his brow. His hair wasn’t really blond. It was more brown, gold and blond, a mixture that intrigued her, especially with how the front of it kept falling on his forehead in a tousled mess. It wasn’t long, but it wasn’t military buzz cut either. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch it. She didn’t, but only because the impulse freaked her out. Kincaid was beginning to get to her in a way no one ever had.