Marcus’s study was command central for the Enforcers. A map of Las Vegas was tacked to one wall and pins of different colors were stabbed into the paper, denoting locations where they had found feral Lycans and their victims. A computer and piles of paper were spread out over the long wooden table in the study’s center.
Zeke was busy on the computer, his fingers a blur as they flew over the keyboard. But they knew he was listening to every word any of them uttered.
Marcus’s dark eyes scanned his men. Every one of them would lay down their life for the others, including him, if needed. Adrian, a member of the Tuatha Dé Danann, a legendary race, was the Enforcers’ peacekeeper and diplomat, but a deadly killer with a blade. Zeke, their technician, was an intimidating warrior from Atlantis whose teleportation powers had saved their asses more than a few times. Ryes, the dark, brooding Celt, had been cursed by the Goddess Morrigan to an eternity of battle. Tegan, the were-panther, was hot headed and deadly with his claws and fangs. Then there was the newest member of the group, Christophe, a three hundred year old vampire, still impulsive and never one to turn down an invitation to a lady’s bed.
All of them had their own unique abilities, all of them deadly, and all under oath to uphold the laws of the Tribunal. Marcus owed every one of these men an explanation, so he rose from his chair, ignored the slight dizziness, and faced them.
“It is true that I let Tambra go.”
The room went silent, even Zeke stopped typing to look in Marcus’s direction.
“We are not dealing with a civilian in this case, but a cop. One whose absence would be noticed. Questions would be asked. This way she will come to us of her own free will and we can avoid complications.”
“You can’t be certain of that,” Tegan argued. “What if she turns and goes on a blood frenzy? How will we be able to keep that from the humans?”
“I trust she will be here before she turns. Protecting her kind is first and foremost to her, and she will not put the innocent in jeopardy.” The strength of Marcus’s conviction rang out. “And if you’re wrong? What then?” Tegan snapped, rising from his seat. “It seems to me to be an unnecessary risk.”
Marcus pinned him with a gaze, his voice as sharp as a well honed blade.
“It is my decision to make as leader of this team. Do you challenge me, Tegan?”
“I challenge your decision. I believe, in regards to Miss Ellis, you are not as impartial as you have led everyone to think.”
“My decision, whether impartial or not, is not up for discussion.” Marcus’s words cracked with the force of a whip.
“Is that what you’re going to tell Fox when he comes to pick her up? You know he is within his right per pack law to claim any Were created by a Pure Blood. Especially when so few of them survive the initial changes,” Tegan shot back.
Marcus glared from across the room at Tegan. His face hard as granite, he spoke in a deceptively smooth voice.
“She will remain under Tribunal care until I say otherwise. Do I make myself perfectly clear on this?”
“Like crystal, but I’m not the one you need to convince.”
“Leave Fox to me. I will make my position clear to him when the time comes. Right now I need her monitored. Zeke, that’s you. While you’re at it, bug her phone. We are not taking any chances of her turning and us not being prepared.”
“We have another problem, Marcus,” Zeke sighed tiredly. “I’ve referenced the outbreaks of Breeds going feral and it’s not just the Lycans. According to my findings, it’s affecting all the Breeds.”
The room grew quiet, the atmosphere heavy with unease at the news.
“Show me,” Marcus ordered, his attention on the computer screen Zeke had turned toward him. The group crowded around the monitor. A map of Las Vegas showed on the screen, different colored flags spread over it, indicating where Breed attacks had taken place.
“Each flag color represents a different Breed. As you can see, although most are Lycan there are growing numbers of other colors. Whatever it is that we’re dealing with it’s spreading,” Zeke explained. His fingers flew over the keyboard once again and a chart popped up on the monitor.
“This is the number of attacks recorded and the dates and times.” He clicked the mouse and a detailed graph appeared. “According to the data, in the last three months the incidents among other Breeds have been rising.”
“What the hell are we dealing with here?” Ryes growled.
That was the million dollar question, Marcus thought, running a hand through his hair with exasperation. Was this a disease, or something even more menacing? They were running out of time.
“Time to switch up our directive. Bring in any Breed who even looks like they are going feral.”
As the team filtered out, Marcus went and stood by the large window, staring out at nothing as the sky lightened. Due to his age, he could tolerate sunlight better than most, but he knew better than to be caught out in it. He could already feel his strength beginning to diminish. The longer he exposed himself to the sun’s rays, the weaker he would become until he could do nothing but lay paralyzed by the rays, an easy target for his enemies.
He felt a familiar presence behind him and spoke without turning.
“So you saw her safely to her home?”
“Yes, sir. She is safely within her apartment. She did have a visitor though. I believe it was her partner.” The man’s English accent was thick with censure. Alistair, a Dhampir, the result of a mating between vampire and human, had been in Marcus’s service for hundreds of years. Marcus had saved the child from being burnt at the stake. Unfortunately, he had been too late to save Alistair’s parents. Not as long lived as a turned vampire, Marcus still considered Alistair family and treated him as such, which was not the normal practice within the Breed’s society, where Dhampirs were considered an inferior race. In return, Alistair gave him his loyalty and an easy friendship had blossomed between the two men.
“You don’t approve, Alastair?” Marcus chuckled as he closed the drapes to the dawn, casting the room in darkness.
Alastair flipped the lights on.
“It is not my place to approve or disapprove, sir. It is only my observation.”
“An observation that is as keen and sharp as a knife’s edge, old friend. I put great value on your deductions,” Marcus said, the warmth of his tone matching Alistair’s smile. “So, tell me, what is on your mind?”
Alistair hesitated briefly before he spoke.
“Do you think it wise to further antagonize Mr. Fox? The way things are it might be more prudent to give him the female as a show of good faith.”
Marcus frowned, weighing his words before he spoke. “This particular female is most unusual Alistair. Strong and independent. I cannot see her adjusting to the Lycan way of life easily. In addition, she is a police officer with a sense of duty. A woman who is used to dispensing her own justice.”
“Yes, I do see your point. Just tread carefully, for these are treacherous times.” Alastair sighed tiredly, his age worn face looking more haggard than usual. “Will you be retiring for the day?”
“Yes, Alastair. I believe there is little left to do until this evening.”
“Very well. May the Gods guard your sleep,” Alastair intoned the first lines of an ancient Breed prayer.
“Let the earth nourish you, the water quench your thirst, and the air breathe renewal unto you, my old friend,” Marcus finished.
With a small smile, Alistair left Marcus alone to dwell on his thoughts, all filled with Tambra.
Tegan had hit too close to the truth about Marcus’s reaction to Tambra. A reaction Marcus did not wish to ponder. He had no business getting close to the human officer, and yet, he could not get her out of his thoughts. He had tended to her as she lay ill, and the thought of another man comforting her was… unacceptable. His back teeth ground together so hard his jaw ached. No, he would not think that. Tambra Ellis was only a test subject, one he would watch for any
signs of the Lycan disease. If that was even what they were dealing with. Once there was no more use for her, he would discard her and not think another thought about her.
He refused to acknowledge how hollow and false those words sounded in his head.
Chapter Five
Tambra walked into Captain Miguel Suarez’s office at seven sharp. Files and mounds of papers were strewn across his desk, a large cup of coffee by the phone. He looked up from his work as she walked in, his dark eyes sharp on her face as his body relaxed noticeably in his chair. She was surprised to find more lines of stress around his mouth and eyes than she remembered. He looked tired. He rose from the desk, quickly making his way to the door and shutting it firmly before embracing her.
“Dios, querida! I have been looking for you everywhere!” he growled, emotion making his Spanish accent more apparent than normal. “Where have you been?”
Pulling away, she pushed down the guilt she felt at causing this man so much anxiety. Miguel had been a close friend of her father’s and had been like family to her as she grew up. The idea of being the cause of his worry was bad enough, having to lie to him made that guilt sit heavily in the pit of her stomach. She knew there was no choice, if she told him what really happened she would find herself on a quick trip to a shrink. Shit, she wasn’t even sure what had happened.
Straightening her spine, she decided to keep to the truth as much as she could.
“I am so sorry to make you worry, Miguel. I was attacked while chasing down a perp, and then I was waking up three days later.”
“We need to have a doctor look at you, where have you been? I checked your apartment, so I know you haven’t been there.” He looked her over with a critical eye.
Tambra raised a hand in a calming gesture.
“I’m fine, really. I hit my head in a scuffle with the perp, and a concerned citizen came to my aid. Once I came around I left and, well, here I am,” she finished lamely, fighting not to squirm under Miguel’s intense stare as the minutes stretched out slowly in the thickening silence.
“Do you take me for a fool? I have known you all your life, do you think I don’t know when you are lying to me?” His voice snapped like a whip in the quiet room, disappointment clear on his face.
“I am telling you the truth, Miguel.” Tambra’s voice shook but she kept her eyes firmly on his, her heart thudding heavily in her chest. “That is all I remember.”
“And the name of this esteemed citizen of yours?”
This at least was something that she could give him.
“Marcus Valerian.”
For one brief second something seemed to flicker across his face, but was gone so fast Tambra was unsure if she had even seen it.
Miguel’s voice was cool as he spoke, not quite meeting her eyes as he made his way back to his desk.
“I want you to take the next two weeks off. During that time I will look into what this Mr. Valerian has to say. You will be taking this time unpaid.”
“You can’t do that! I need to work, Miguel. Don’t take that away from me,” Tambra pleaded. All she had ever known was being a cop, the idea that there could be a real possibility of her losing her job had never occurred to her until now.
“There will be a review on this in two weeks. I suggest you use this time to remember exactly what happened with your missing time.” His voice cut through her like a knife in the heart.
Tambra left Miguel’s office with a heavy feeling of certainty that nothing would ever be the same again.
She spent the rest of her morning, and most of the afternoon, coming to terms with the sudden turn her life seemed to be taking. The disappearance of the wounds she had sustained only three days ago loomed large in her mind. What if Marcus was not crazy? She had seen the beast that had attacked her. She knew she had come across something supernatural that night.
By the time a knock on the door roused her from her musings, it was three in the afternoon. She opened the door to find Cody leaning against the door jamb, a crooked smile playing on his handsome face. Dressed in worn jeans and a white tee shirt, he looked rested and full of energy.
Since Tambra had spent a restless night between dreams of Marcus and dreams of turning into a werewolf, and then topped it off with her disastrous meeting with Miguel, Cody’s demeanor grated on the last nerve she had left.
“You’re late. What did you find?” she barked, before turning, walking to her coffee pot, and pouring herself another cup.
“Nothing. Your boy is not just clean, he’s a ghost.” Cody shrugged. “Got another cup somewhere?”
Tambra pulled another cup down from the cabinet, poured the remaining coffee into it, and offered it to him.
“What do you mean ‘a ghost’? There has to be something, he owns a house for Christ’s sake!”
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger here. There is no Marcus Valerian on record anywhere, and if he owns a house it’s under a different name.” Cody straddled a chair, took a sip of the coffee, and grimaced. “Damn, Tambra, that has to be the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted.”
“Don’t drink it then,” she snapped.
“You must have seen Suarez. Given your mood.”
“Yep. He has me on a suspension for the next two weeks.” Tambra sighed, her gaze focused on her cup. “Unpaid.”
“What happened to you, Tam? I mean, what really happened?” His voice bled concern. “You wouldn’t believe it.”
“You would be surprised at the shit I’ve seen, cher,” he scoffed.
Tambra’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “And what exactly have you seen, Cody?”
“Freaky shit that I just can’t explain. Yet. I will get to the bottom of it though. There is always a logical explanation for everything.” He shrugged it off before turning the conversation back on course. “If you fed the Captain the same line you gave me last night it’s no wonder you have time to kill. Come on, tell me the truth. I promise not to interrupt,” he cajoled.
“Look, I don’t know what really happened. I need more time to sort it out, okay?”
Cody gave her a hard look before he nodded. “Fine, but I’ll only wait for a little while, and then I expect complete honesty no matter how unbelievable it sounds, agreed?”
“Agreed. Now how about we get something to eat? I’m starving. Then afterward we need to trace my steps back to his house.”
Tambra was already at the door, purse slung over her shoulder.
“I’m not in the mood for one of your veggie restaurants. I need meat,” Cody grumbled, rising from his seat.
“Actually, I think I want a steak.”
Shock registered on Cody’s face and his eyes narrowed on her.
“Do you feel alright? In the three years we’ve known each other I have never seen you eat meat.”
“I feel better than ever. Just listening to my body, and my body craves protein.”
It was true. She had never felt so strong, even with the little sleep she had managed to get. She felt as if she could run a mile without breaking a sweat.
“Alright then, let’s go sacrifice that cow for your dinner shall we?”
She paled in reaction to Cody’s quip. Marcus’s words, You can’t leave unless you want the blood of innocent lives on your hands, filled her mind. Would she look at Cody like a source of food?
He frowned at her. “Hey, cher, it was just a joke, no need to look like the world is coming to an end.”
Dread filled her and her stomach churned. How long did she have? How was she supposed to protect innocent lives when she did turn? There were too many questions and only one source to get answers from. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to have to confront Marcus. But this time she was going to be prepared. She just hoped she could trust Cody, because she had no choice but to turn his rational world upside down.
****
White marble floors with gold vein glowed under the afternoon sunlight in Temple Fox’s office. An impressive display of swords and knives hung fro
m one wall across from an ornate, cherry wood bookcase filled with ancient tomes. A massive sofa and two reclining chairs surrounded a black marble coffee table. Temple Fox stared out at the panoramic view of Las Vegas with unseeing eyes, a frown marring his handsome features.
He had built a vast empire from the ground up, took control of the half starved Lycans, and built them into a force to be reckoned with. Something to be respected. And it was all slipping through his fingers. The latest pack member to go feral was a Pure Blood, practically unheard of since Pure Blooded Lycans were noted for their self possession. Now Fox had the Tribunal’s Enforcers to answer to, and that was unconscionable.
Oren’s sudden death weighed heavily on his mind. Though he had never cared for the uppity Lycan, Oren had been a powerful alpha and had held influence within his pack. Only days after the Pure Blood’s death, Temple was already hearing rumblings of dissatisfaction with his leadership. Temple needed to diffuse this situation before emotions ran too high. He knew far too well how deeply passions ran within his Breed. Only through control could they repress the beast within. Losing Oren could set into motion circumstances that could explode into violence and destroy his kind and everything Temple had worked too hard to build.
Tambra Ellis could very well be their salvation, if only he could get his hands on her without the interference of the Tribunal and their arrogant Enforcers. Rarely had a Pure Blood turned a human. Only a human bitten by a Pure Blood could control the three different aspects of the Lycan. The chance of her not only surviving the Rising but being able to shift from human, to a humanoid blending of the human and wolf, and then to the wolf would be something the pack could rally around. If Tambra lived through the change, and could successfully shift in the Lycan way, Temple could take her as mate and lead the pack through these dangerous times. He wouldn’t know until her first change, which was just one more reason he needed to find her. If Temple could be the one there to ease Tambra into the new world that awaited her, the one that helped her through the transition personally, convincing her to be his mate would be that much easier.
Dark Passion Rising Page 4