The Thorndykes 1: Dispossessed

by Lynne Connolly

  Jay felt a mixture of disappointment and relief, both for the same reason. He wouldn’t have to kill. Whatever he’d said to her, his blood was up, and he wanted revenge—the primitive emotion vampires once thrived on. It made them feel alive when centuries of living had deadened everything else. Not that Jay had lived that long, but he’d begun to skim past the fleeting emotions that differentiated one day from another.

  They had time to eat. Then he showered and changed after making a nearly silent Lucille swear not to leave their suite. Better to protect her in a smaller environment, and with Drew next door, the guards could concentrate their efforts here. Two Talents, two mortals, plus the two guards on constant patrol. And the electronic wizardry defending him and the people he cared for most. That should do it.

  Lucille wanted to come. She knew how to handle a gun, but she wasn’t stupid. When he explained that the Wheelers could use her emotions and her knowledge, that they’d target her if they saw her, she agreed to stay behind, although reluctantly. Then he pointed out that Drew needed someone to take care of him. Because although his recovery was almost complete, he still had an edge of sluggishness. Moreover his youth meant he hadn’t much experience with violence. Jay didn’t have to remind her that went for her too, but she made him promise to teach her how to handle one of the blades he was strapping to the inside of his arms, his waist, and his ankles. He’d used them for years and appreciated their quiet, clean approach. Not that he didn’t have a firearm or two about his person as well.

  As the man who knew the terrain best, Jay took charge. Before he left, Lucille had allowed him to access the memories of her one dinner at the Wheelers’. That gave him a fair idea of the interior layout, which he transmitted to the others. To be sure, they carried secure cell phones. If they became separated, or if the Wheelers had a sensitive on their side who could detect telepathic communication, then they might be safer using that method.

  Z’s plan—simple, brutal, and effective—seemed the best.

  They arrived on the perimeter of the ranch and moved in. They swept the area mentally, ignoring the faint traces that indicated the presence of Talents, knowing now what they were. Their dead. They’d see to them afterward, ensure they were cared for and buried the way they would have wanted.

  Four on the outside, three on the inside. Seven was always Jay’s lucky number.

  The two new guests relayed that they’d been invited to eat with the family.

  “Is that usual?” Z asked sharply.

  “It is for many dude ranches. Eating around one big table, a ranch experience.”

  “Gets them further in,” the taciturn griffin shape-shifter, a woman called Alexandra, said. She was one scary-ass woman, tall, slender as a reed, strong as whipcord. Jay was glad she was on their side. The other members of their team moving in from the perimeter were a virgin Sorcerer with a strong telekinesis power, and a jaguar. Paolo had sleek muscles like a swimmer’s, skin like bronze. The shape-shifters wore loose clothing, easily shed or split if they needed to shape-shift. Jay had chosen clothing in a fetching shade of matte black. Fashion gave way to expedience sometimes. He’d have worn a dress if that meant he could work better.

  But he still appeared decent, and he’d hidden his weapons well because he was the vanguard. For once he wished he could carry a sword by his side as he had in some parts of his life. He understood swords, what they could do, how to hold them and strike hard. Maybe he should take to using one again. Although the blades he carried had a lot of uses.

  He quelled his murderous thoughts, changing them to calm affability as he walked up to the house where Nathan was staying. Only two ranch hands were on duty tonight in the small apartment above a garage. It was placed close to the stables so they were available if the horses needed them.

  As he strolled out to join him, Nathan assured him his colleague was asleep and not likely to wake for a good twelve hours.

  “What did you do?” Jay demanded, keeping his voice steady.

  “Slipped him a mickey. I had one with him. A little weaker but the same stuff. I let it enter my bloodstream, but I shifted to stop it working.”

  “Clever.”

  Nathan shrugged off the compliment. They walked slowly toward the stables, then turned in the direction of the paddock, empty at this time of the evening. “Most evenings a few are out here, but I made sure they were fed and put in their stalls.”

  “It seems years since I rode.” Jay tipped his hat back, letting the evening breeze touch his face.

  “Have you used a Western saddle?”

  “I’ve had the ranch ten years. What the fuck do you think?”

  Nathan chuckled. “Yeah. You were some horseman back in the day.”

  “We all were,” Jay said. “It was a requirement in our set.” They were to chat and keep the atmosphere calm while the others scanned the house for presences.

  “A new group of dudes is arriving tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.” One reason they’d waited the extra day before going in. “Bet you were glad to see the back of a couple of them.”

  Nathan grimaced. “All of them. An extended bachelorette party. Not even the excuse of a wedding, just a reunion. Apparently they do this every year.”

  “Did they do you?”

  “Mind your own fucking business.” Nathan smiled, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “They tipped well.”

  A note sounded in their minds, the signal to move in. “There are seven of them and two visitors.”

  “Our visitors?”

  “Nope.”

  “Shit.” They hadn’t expected that. Still, nine mortals were no match for the Talents currently converging on them. Jay contacted the two in the house. “Are they all PHR?”

  “I think so,” Alexandra replied. “Six highly organized minds, three organized chaos.”

  “Target the three first.” If they could create the illusion of normal mortal minds, then they were the more dangerous. “Everyone in place?” He received the notes of affirmation. Two Talents on the roof, one vampire on the other side of the house. From Z’s casual approach to violence, Jay wouldn’t bet on anyone getting past him. “We’re to take all we can alive,” he murmured to Nathan.

  Nathan stared at him in disbelief. “After what they did?”

  “They’re going to the Sorcerers.”

  Nathan said nothing, but the smile he gave Jay chilled his blood. These bastards deserved it.

  “I thought the PHR preferred cells of six,” one of the shape-shifters broke in.

  “This is a family. Or we could get lucky and trap a daisy from another cell.” That was Z, cool, with an underlying serving of menace.

  “Here we go.”

  As Jay and Nathan moved toward the back entrance, Z knocked at the front door.

  That split the group. Someone went to answer the door while the Talents on the roof were gaining access through upper windows. They didn’t bother with locks, just sliced the panes of glass with diamond-sharp claws and eased the pieces aside. They’d partially shifted to acquire their strength and some of their powers. They’d go the rest of the way in a flash if they considered it necessary.

  Meantime Z was bleating about his car breaking down. An old excuse, but it worked a treat, especially in a house full of people who would consider themselves safe. Armed people. One of the dude ranch’s offers was for gun lessons, particularly with weapons of the old West. They worked just like most other guns, especially the replicas. Not that they would help them.

  Jay was in. He sent the prearranged signal. They had five people inside. Nathan had stayed out of the house to act as point. The Wheelers had never allowed him inside, but since he was an itinerant worker only employed on a temporary basis, that didn’t surprise anyone.

  One sharp kick changed that. The back door burst open, and they walked in. It was on.

  Someone came at Jay, and he moved without thinking, delivering a hard punch to the woman’s jaw. Did he regret hitting a woman? Not when the w
oman was aiming a practiced karate kick at him. “Stupid fucker,” he said without compunction, passing on to the main dining room.

  Screams and the sound of shattering crockery came from inside the room. Their people creating confusion. They should have the place under control soon. Easy.

  He’d be home with Lucille, making their plans before too long. Two hours, tops.

  Nathan stood by the dining room door while Jay smashed it open, timing his entrance with Z’s equally dramatic one from the other door. The two shape-shifters were locating the computers in the house. They prepared to send the contents to the Department, then remove the laptops and the hard drives from any towers they found.

  Jay didn’t give a shit about that. He wanted these people out of commission.

  He scanned the area, chose the group of people on the left. A flash distracted him, but not enough. Then someone slashed a blade down and stabbed toward his stomach. Before it reached its target, Jay met it with one of his own. He knocked the weapon aside before spinning the person around and, in one smooth move, securing him with one of the flexi cuffs he carried from a loop at his waist. One down. This was simple, just like he’d assumed.

  Z threw his captive to the floor. He’d gagged his prisoner, but Jay hadn’t bothered. They weren’t making a lot of noise, and he wanted to hear what they had to say.

  “So,” he said, flashing his fangs. “Who’s first?”

  “Not a bad idea,” Z said. He grabbed his prisoner with one hand, and the man’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head. It didn’t stop Z from sinking his fangs in, none too gently.

  Jay hadn’t fed for a few days, and taking made sense. Blood didn’t have a sentient presence. He picked one of the captive men up and copied Z.

  After that, the world grew hazy. He stared at Z, who was blinking. Someone stood in the doorway, a woman maybe, but he wasn’t sure. Should be one of theirs. He heard a roar from his left as Nathan went into action.

  Drugged blood?

  He only received one word from Z, already half-under. Fuck.

  WHEN JAY’S MIND went blank, Lucille went wild. She’d stayed with him, just touching him to assure herself he was fine, but when his presence suddenly silenced, she shifted her attention to Nathan. “What’s happening?”

  “He’s here. He’s not dead,” came the terse reply.

  “I’m on my way.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare. Stay where you are, with Drew.”

  She wouldn’t get there fast enough in any case. She couldn’t see or feel anything. She’d found it a strain reaching Jay at this distance. Her telepathy worked for around ten miles, but Jay had added his own strength to hers to give her the reassurance she needed.

  Drew sensed her distress. He hadn’t kept in touch with them, but he didn’t need to. He was in contact with her. When he touched her hand, she gripped his tightly, staring out at the still, seemingly peaceful night. They were sitting on the bed in her suite, but they’d rotated it so it faced out. She could see Jay coming home that way. He’d taken his car; she’d see the lights. Or sense wings if Nathan shape-shifted and gave him a ride. Either way was good, the faster the better.

  While she hated the thought that Ryan was involved with the PHR cell, the order to take them alive had granted her some relief. Jay was right. Sentiment would have slowed her down. She’d never been in love with Ryan, but she’d cared about him and counted him as her friend. That he’d betrayed her came as a shock, but she should have known.

  Had he hurt Jay? And how?

  Something blocked the stars, then they were visible again; the only sign that a shape-shifter had taken to the sky. Lucille leaped off the sofa and raced downstairs, only momentarily noticing the security men. The shape-shifter whose name was Dalton set off behind her, keeping close to her, although he could have outpaced her. Few people could when she was using vampire strength, but he matched her easily.

  A naked Nathan was laying Jay gently on the big sofa in the great room. He glanced up as Lucille approached. “It’s okay,” he said. “He’s drugged, not hurt.”

  “What kind of drug can lay out a vampire?” she demanded. She’d never heard of such a thing before. Even horse tranquillizers couldn’t do it.

  “A mixture of the strongest crap known and a Talent aiming psi at him.” Nathan’s voice was grim. “Not one of ours.”

  A long scratch marred Jay’s face, still bleeding sluggishly. She watched the wound closing up, and that persuaded her he was alive. “What went wrong?”

  “They have a Sorcerer. He effectively shielded ten more people from other cells. Somehow they got warning that we were coming, and laid a trap. They nearly did it too. But they hadn’t reckoned on our Sorcerer. She’s a virgin, more powerful than any other of her kind, and she got to the bastard as soon as he uncloaked.” He paused. “He got one before she could act.”

  “Got one?” Lucille paused, staring down at Jay. Killed one. “Who?”

  The tall woman, the shape-shifter, spoke. “Alexandra.”

  “They had syringes of Cephalox.” The drug that knocked out a shape-shifter’s powers. “They knew we were coming, all right. I smashed the one meant for me, but one of the others wasn’t so lucky. He’s as mortal as the Wheelers for at least twenty-four hours. His colleague got him away, together with Z. Our Sorcerer knocked the worst of the attack from theirs as she could, but she missed the initial blanket. Very fast. Uncloaking the hidden minds, and then the attack between one breath and the next.”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She had to touch him, had to hold her hand over his heart, feel it beat, let his chest rise and fall with every shallow breath he drew. “So what happens now?”

  “Fuck knows.”

  “Do we know the Sorcerer?”

  “Not yet,” Nathan said. “But we will.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jay hardly had her in the bedroom before he was on her. He lifted her, tossed her on the bed, and landed over her. “I need you,” he muttered. “Now.”

  A thrill coursed through her. This was Jay’s savage side, as much a part of him as his sweet, loving one. She wasn’t sure about it yet, but she was damn sure about this.

  He didn’t waste time, stripping them out of their clothes only enough so he could free his cock and get inside her. “Christ, when I went down, all I could think was that I’d never have this again. Never have you.”

  He dragged her robe aside and shoved his pants down just far enough. His first thrust stretched her and forced the delicate tissues aside, but she was ready for him, and her juices lubricated enough to let him in without pain.

  Only just. Normally he’d have stopped, concerned, and asked her if she was okay, but not tonight. He stroked her hard and fast, rammed into her, his face buried against her throat. His fangs pricked her flesh, sending a delicious edge of pain into her arousal.

  He wouldn’t do this alone. He’d done too many things alone. So she extended her fangs too, and when he sank in, she did the same, trying to time her thrust with his.

  Suck and fuck, he’d said, but it felt like so much more. With them so profoundly into each other’s minds and bodies, she let herself drift. For the first time she achieved a sense of oneness, as if there was nothing except here and now. Ecstasy, no longer a fleeting experience, floated through her mind, inhabiting it, and she finally opened everything without stint.

  He jerked back with such swiftness she was jolted to reality. Her eyes sprang open, and she stared up at him in shock. He bent and licked her neck to seal the wounds he’d made, and she took the opportunity to do the same, stunned by the suddenness of his action.

  His face was strained, his eyes wide, his cock still embedded inside her. “Not like this. I want us to bond when we’re ready. Not before.” He’d thrown his mind into lockdown, and now she could only feel him physically.

  “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have gone at you like this. But I wanted you so badly,” she confessed.

  He rotated his hips, so she co
uld feel him inside her. “I still do.”

  He was right. Not like this. She wanted the moment to be special so they’d remember it for the rest of their lives. Hastily she covered her mind, blocked her deepest thoughts, and left only the outer layer for him. “Will you come back? Just a little?”

  Smiling down at her, he did. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his smile seemed strained. In his outer thoughts, she read turmoil, confusion. He’d never allow anyone else to see him this vulnerable. As she felt it, the sensation seeped away, and he appeared perfectly happy. The fact that he’d let her in that far meant so much to her. It was his way of showing her that he trusted her, that he wanted to bond with her. This just wasn’t the time; that was all.

  He recommenced, fucking her back to another orgasm. Then he howled his way through his own release, his body jerking violently over hers. He pressed her down into the mattress before he rolled to one side and took her with him.

  Lucille was still wired, after that moment of perfect tranquility returning in full force. “I’m sorry you had to do that tonight.”

  “I’m not.”

  The hardness in his tone didn’t surprise her, but she did feel some disappointment that he felt no compassion for the people he’d killed. He curved an arm around her waist. “Sleep now. We’ll make our plans later.”

  * * * *

  She woke up in the middle of the afternoon, not sure how she slept so long, but snuggled up to him. That was enough for him to start again, but slow and loving, caressing every part of her before he entered her with perfect care. Tenderly but surely he thrust over and over in a rhythm she could enter into forever.

  They came at the same time, sighing into each other’s mouths, lost in kisses. For a while they lay wrapped up in each other in blissful silence, and her mind started to work. It always took a while for her to come to herself after sleeping. Even more so when she woke up with a hot man who made love to her as if she was the only person that mattered.