by Aubrey Ross
“Well, if the Vladya bitch wakes up now, she’ll have to wait until Desmond gets his rocks off. Farren might be a cruel prick but he keeps his word.”
Caresse cringed at the crude exchange. Farren, primary spokesman for the Brethren, had promised Desmond one hour with her each day during the interrogation and a full night together as soon as he found out what the Brethren needed to know.
Her escort deactivated the shield then unlocked the door. “Your hour starts now, so use it wisely.” Rather than open the door, he swept his hand toward the threshold then stepped aside.
Thrilled to be alone with her mate, even if it was only for an hour, she flung the door open and rushed inside. Desmond spun toward her, but his tormented expression brought her up short.
What’s the matter? She carefully shielded the question and slipped it across their private link as she shut the door. Some of the Levari Brethren could sense telepathic communication but none could penetrate their telepathic connection.
She’s gone. He sounded horrified.
Who is gone? Surely he didn’t mean—
Eloise. The Vladya captive.
More confused than concerned, she moved closer to Desmond. How did she escape? Didn’t they give her the paralytic?
I have no idea how she escaped, all I know is she did. I went to get her a glass of water and when I returned the room was empty.
The guard indicated that no one had been in or out, so how had she done it? Only Strigo hosts could teleport and the cabin was sealed. Even if Eloise had been able to turn to mist, she couldn’t have gotten out.
Weren’t her symbionts neutralized?
Yes. He raked his hair with his hand and began to pace the length of the rustic living room. I watched them inject her. There is no way she did this without help.
But who could have helped her? No one knew where she was.
I don’t know!
Her questions were obviously upsetting him, so she changed tactics. She crossed to the sofa and sat. They’d pretend nothing was wrong while they gathered information. “Come, love. Sit down. We only have an hour before they take me away again.”
He glanced at the door, obviously understanding her ploy, then joined her on the sofa. “I’m too wound up to be good company right now. I’ve got all our hopes pinned on that woman.”
“If anyone can make her talk, it’s you.” She snuggled up close to him and put her head on his shoulder. “I can never keep secrets from you. You’re too damn adorable.”
He snorted. “I don’t think my adorability is why Farren is letting me do this.”
“Probably not.” More than likely the guards were listening to every word, so long periods of silence would be suspicious. “I don’t want to talk about Eloise. We only have an hour. Let’s not waste it.”
His arms came around her and dragged her onto his lap. Her lips were parted and eager as he sealed her mouth with his. We can’t play this game indefinitely. We’re just postponing the inevitable.
With his warm arms around her and his taste in her mouth, she didn’t really care. Being away from him was torture and their prospects were looking bleaker with each hour that passed. Surrendering to the Brethren wasn’t an option for either of them. They had both endured too much in their pasts to tolerate subjugation. Still, they hadn’t figured out how to completely escape the Brethren’s controlling pull and it grew stronger every day.
The guards think she’s still asleep. That buys us a little time. Were you able to sense anything in the room, a psychic trail or energy resonance?
Desmond released her mouth and shook his head. Nothing. She’s just gone. “We have an audience.” He lifted her as she bent her knees. Then she settled astride his lap. He quickly unbuttoned her blouse and unfastened her bra. With her back to the windows her breasts weren’t visible to the guards, but it was obvious what Desmond was doing.
He bent his head and sucked one pert nipple into his mouth. She arched her back, pressing herself into the kiss. “I remember the first time you did this,” she whispered, not caring if the guards heard her or not.
Without releasing her breast, he angled his head and met her gaze. That was a lifetime ago. You’re no longer a passive slave and I’m not that embittered soldier.
She hadn’t brought it up to upset him. Her emotions were just raw today. I was thinking how far we’d come since those long-ago days.
He nipped her breast then smiled. “And I want you to stop thinking and come.” One of his hands slipped beneath her skirt and cupped her mound. He didn’t try to stimulate her, not that having his hand pressed against her aching sex wasn’t stimulating enough, but this display was for the benefit of the guards.
Will Farren let you go after her?
Possibly. I sampled her DNA, so I should be able to track her.
His symbionts used the DNA of others to reprogram Desmond’s physical appearance. They could also use the sample to locate the source.
She framed his face with her hands and peppered leisurely kisses across his features. We both know what you need to do. If you could just—
I can’t awaken my Strigo symbionts. He pushed her hands away and glared. Don’t you think I’ve tried?
I know you’ve tried, but our need has never been this dire before. We must escape this web before Farren realizes that Eloise is gone.
Moving his hands to her hips, he closed his eyes and blew out an exasperated breath. His features stilled and his breathing deepened. Was he trying to release the latent power of his Strigo heritage or was he just avoiding her gaze? She tried to scan his mind but his shields were at full strength. His fingers dug into her hips and his legs tensed beneath her. No, he was definitely trying.
She didn’t speak, didn’t want to distract him, yet she’d never felt so helpless. There had to be something she could do to help him, some way of jolting his Strigo symbionts out of their virus-induced hibernation.
The door burst open and Farren Doyle stood framed in the doorway. “Why don’t we sense our prisoner anymore?”
Desmond lifted her off his lap and set her on the sofa as he stood. Caresse quickly rebuttoned her blouse then stood as well.
“What do you mean? She’s still asleep.”
Caresse couldn’t see his expression but his denial sounded convincing.
Farren scoffed and stormed past him, disappearing down the short hallway. She heard the bedroom door bang open and then Farren bellowed, “She’s gone, you fool! You let her escape.”
Desmond moved to the mouth of the hall so he could see the other man. “You told me her symbionts were neutralized and not to begin my interrogation until she awakened naturally.”
“So this is our fault?” Farren charged back down the hall.
Desmond stepped out of reach before Farren could touch him, but Farren’s anger was palpable. “Guards! Take her outside.”
Immediately the two guards rushed into the room and grabbed Caresse. “Wait! Desmond did nothing wrong. If Eloise escaped, she must have had an accomplice. There is no way…”
Farren silenced her with an upraised hand. The guards held her firmly between them so she couldn’t avoid the blow if Farren swung. “Get her out of our sight.”
The guards obeyed.
Chapter Two
The world became a dizzying mix of flashing lights and streaking colors. Eloise briefly closed her eyes but that only intensified the nauseating rush so she reluctantly opened them again.
Darkness enveloped them until something cold and solid pressed against her feet. Her rescuer’s arms loosened and she swayed then stumbled as he started to pull away. “You okay?”
His rumbling voice sent shivers down her spine and filled her mind with memories of his rippling muscles. Rather than find herself on the floor, she placed her hands on his thick upper arms for support. The supple leather of his hip-length jacket felt cool beneath her fingers, but the distraction wasn’t enough to clear her head. “I feel…strange.”
“A firs
t-time flash can do that to you.” He cupped her elbows, the warmth of his fingers accentuating the size of his hands. “Take a couple of deep breaths. It’ll pass.” The overhead light blinked on and Eloise groaned. Pounding pressure attacked her temples and made her head throb. She swayed toward him, legs trembling. He bent and lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest like a child. “You’re white as a sheet, baby doll. I don’t think they took very good care of you.” He carried her to a sofa and set her down sideways.
“Thanks,” Eloise muttered as the pain gradually eased. “And don’t call me baby doll.”
One corner of his mouth quirked as he stared down at her. “I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands. If you haven’t noticed, I just saved your pampered ass.” A touch of humor warmed his chocolate-brown eyes, but the firm set of his jaw revealed his ruthless nature. She’d seen firsthand how quickly his mood swung from teasing patience to inflexible stubbornness. She’d never interrogated a more exasperating man!
“My ‘pampered ass’ is grateful.” She paused to look around, unable to compose her thoughts while she looked at him. “My logical mind, however, doubts that you did this out of the goodness of your heart.” The room surrounding her wasn’t large but it was richly appointed, the couch firm and comfortable. Though far too grand to be termed a cabin, the bare log walls gave the house a rustic charm. The fully integrated décor was likely the work of an interior designer. This looked like a rich man’s hunting lodge or the mountain retreat for the head of Strigo strain. “Where am I and how did you find me?”
“It wasn’t easy.” The rumble in his tone could have been annoyance or suppressed laughter. Eloise looked up, hoping to decide which emotion had caused the inflection in his voice. He brushed his shaggy blond hair back from his face as his gaze bore into hers. “If I hadn’t bitten you during our playtime, I’d have had no idea where to look.”
“You’re Strigo strain.” She folded her hands in her lap and kept her gaze squarely focused on his rugged features. She couldn’t let him guess she was powerless, not that it would have mattered. She was an initiated human and he was of pure blood, recently arrived from Strigoia Prime. “Why would a prominent member of Strigo strain care what happened to Tara Kovac’s daughter?”
“I don’t give a damn who your mother is or which strain initiated you.” He slipped his hand into the pocket of his coat, his smile cool and calculated. “My interest in you is personal.”
When she didn’t reply, he unzipped the jacket and draped it over the back of the chair across from her. His movements were measured, his expression watchful. The past two days had been good to him. He appeared hale and hearty with faded jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt showcasing his muscular physique.
“The cabin is shielded,” he informed her in a calm, clear tone. “We’re undetectable to scans and unreachable to telepathic communication. It’s also sealed, so don’t bother turning to mist. It would be a waste of energy.”
She almost laughed. The Levari Brethren had made such precautions unnecessary, but she had no intention of revealing the fact to him. “And I’m supposed to take your word for all of this?”
“Knock yourself out.” He motioned to the room around them, challenge making his dark eyes shine. “I just thought I’d spare you the effort. You look rather puny.”
“Puny?” She laughed. “This ‘puny’ female made you bleed.”
One of his brows arched as the amusement left his gaze. “If you’re offering a rematch, I’d be happy to oblige.” Bending toward her, he curved his fingers around the back of her neck and pressed his thumb against the underside of her jaw. “I thought this would be more comfortable than chains.”
She batted his hand aside and scrambled off the couch, unsure if her legs would support her. For just a second she swayed then her balance returned and she looked into his eyes. Damn, the man was tall! “I was doing my job! How would Strigo strain treat a Vladya host found in their territory without permission?”
“It was not our intention to land in your territory and you know it. What were you really hoping to learn?”
She pivoted to the side and slipped past him then took three quick steps before turning back around. Her thoughts scattered each time she looked into his eyes and having him loom over her only amplified the frustrating reoccurrence. “I’m so thirsty I can hardly speak. May I please have something to drink?” It was the truth, but she also needed a moment to regain her composure and develop a strategy. Had this change of venue improved her situation or simply altered the identity of her captor?
Her stomach cramped and a fresh wave of dizziness rolled through her. Stubbornness alone kept her on her feet. She could not let him know how weak she was. Regardless of his casual demeanor, he was every bit as much her enemy as the Levari. Caution, logic and observation were the only weapons left to her.
After staring at her for a long, silent moment he shrugged and turned toward the adjacent kitchen. “We’re thirty miles from the nearest town, so even if you managed to escape you’ve got nowhere to go.” He tossed the comment over his shoulder as he searched through the cupboards for a glass. It was obvious he wasn’t familiar with the cabin itself, just the security features.
She followed him into the kitchen, careful to keep plenty of distance between herself and her imposing companion. He found a glass and filled it from the tap then handed it to her. She savored the cool liquid as it rolled across her tongue and soothed her parched throat.
“Thank you.”
His gaze narrowed as she quickly drained the glass. “When’s the last time you fed?”
He was referring to blood, not solid food. If a host kept his or her symbionts well-fed, the symbionts could pass energy directly to the host. It was best to maintain a balanced diet of solid food and blood, but if a host had to choose one or the other, it was better to go without food.
“It’s been a while.” She hadn’t had blood or food since before the party began. Preparations had required her full attention and then she’d been so absorbed in her role as hostess she’d only had a glass of champagne.
Ambling over to the refrigerator, he opened the door and peered inside. “Do you have a type preference?”
How had he known human blood came in different types? Strigoian blood was all the same, all nutrient-rich and hospitable to symbionts. Was this an indication… He’d likely been fully briefed on humans before the mission began. She was being paranoid.
“O neg is fine. Vladya symbionts aren’t as fragile as Rom.”
He grinned at the slight. Apparently the conflict between Vladya and Rom strains was well-known even on Strigoia Prime. Tara knew her Vladya army was no match for Strigo strain, so she focused on controlling the Rom.
He grabbed a bag of blood and closed the refrigerator door. “Do you want it warmed?”
“Microwaves disrupt the energy. If you want it warm on Earth, it’s better to tap the source.”
“I’m afraid that’s not an option at the moment.” He tossed the bag to her.
Running her tongue over her teeth, she hoped for some sign that her fangs were descending. Usually the thought of blood had her symbionts clamoring for sustenance and their excitement triggered the physical changes in her body. Would the blood do her any good if her symbionts weren’t able to absorb the energy?
She set her glass on the counter and squeezed some of the blood into it. “I don’t even know your name.” She shouldn’t care. It was unwise to form any sort of attachment with the enemy. Or better yet, she should figure out a nickname he’d find as annoying as “baby doll”. Setting the bag aside, she raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. Her stomach knotted and her throat tensed.
“Name’s Bronik.” He watched her closely, eyes narrowed yet bright.
“Bronik,” she acknowledged with a nod then returned her attention to the task at hand. She had to feed. There was no option unless she was ready to die. She could feel what little strength she had left s
lipping away. Reinforcing her resolve, she brought the glass back to her mouth and parted her lips. The metallic scent and bitter taste made her stomach heave. She ignored her body’s protest and forced several mouthfuls down her throat.
“Has the blood gone bad?”
Apparently she wasn’t concealing her reactions as well as she thought. She prepared to take another drink but her body rebelled even more violently. She shuddered and gagged then set the glass aside. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.”
“I can’t remember the last time I saw a host gag on blood.” His head tilted as he stared at her. “What did they do to you?”
Unwilling to reveal the truth, she changed the subject. “How did you escape the Vancouver compound? The shields surrounding the bunker where Garrett had you stashed are supposed to be impenetrable even to a Strigo host. Or did Prince Alexi snap his fingers and demand your release? He had my mother jumping through hoops like a circus animal.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. Tara was one of the most powerful hosts on Earth, yet she’d trembled at the thought of Alexi Yeager.
Bronik stalked toward her. She instinctively backed up until she found herself pressed into one corner of the kitchen. Placing his hands on the counter to either side of her, he trapped her in place. “Let’s start at the beginning and work our way forward.”
“The beginning of what?” Her pulse leapt and a familiar surge of energy tingled along her nerve endings. She wasn’t sure if it was his nearness or the threat of his sudden advance, but for just a moment her symbionts had stirred, fighting against their sedation.
“Why were we treated like prisoners when our ship was sabotaged?” His already deep voice became little more than a growl. “If it weren’t for Prince Alexi’s unexpected return, I’d likely still be in chains.”
“If it weren’t for my brother’s interruption, you would have enjoyed being in chains.” It was an intentional provocation and he didn’t disappoint. He pushed her head back, baring her throat to his fangs. Another tingle of energy accompanied his aggression and heat curled through her abdomen. She didn’t care if it was fear or desire stimulating her symbionts. She needed them awake and fighting and they’d reacted to nothing else.