by Aubrey Ross
“And she’s Strigoian.”
“As in her planet of origin not her symbiotic strain?”
“Exactly.”
She seemed to relax a little as her lips curved into a faint smile. “I think Strigo strain chose that name to keep us all confused.”
He shook his head. Again with human ignorance. He needed to make damn sure Edrick wasn’t employing similar tactics. “Strigo strain is so named because it is the original strain. Strigo was the only strain for several thousand years.”
“Then how did the other strains come into being?”
Her curiosity seemed genuine so he answered honestly. “Vladya was a natural mutation brought on by changes in the hosts’ environment. Rom and Levari, on the other hand, were most likely engineered.”
“And Tara knows all this?”
“Of course. It’s common knowledge on Strigoia Prime.”
“She’s so determined to prove Vladya equal to Strigo strain that she’s willing to rewrite history if necessary.”
“It’s a common strategy.”
Rather than agree or disagree with his conclusion, she asked, “What does all this have to do with the Rom captives?”
She’d introduced the tangent but he didn’t take offense. They were wasting time they couldn’t spare, however, so he dove to the crux of the issue. “Some AB positive humans are able to host more than one strain.”
“That’s impossible.” She waved away the statement as if it were an annoying fly. “We can’t even feed from another host without our symbionts battling each other. And the biological conflict generally kills the host.”
“I don’t understand how it works. I’m not a hematologist. All I know is Caitlyn carries both Vladya and Rom strains. That’s how she passed herself off as Vladya.”
She stilled and gazed past him, apparently lost in thought. “Tara told me it took her years to learn how to identify blood types by taste. Vladya strain does well in any type, so I wasn’t sure why she bothered.”
“If Tara has been typing blood for years then she likely knew about the potential of AB positive blood long before she snatched the Rom captives.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Some of the color returned to her cheeks but she still avoided his gaze.
Eloise was right. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions. “Tara might not have realized the multi-strain capacity, but she obviously understands that AB positive hosts produce unusually powerful abilities.”
Her gaze shot back to his, sharp and conflicted. “Both Garrett and I are AB positive hosts and we were hand-selected by Tara. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“You were initiated with Tara’s blood?” She nodded. “But Garrett was born with symbionts?” Again her only response was a stiff nod. “Is it possible he hosts more than one strain?”
She shook her head and pulled her hands from her pockets, fiddling with the hem of her shirt instead. “We’ve shared blood more than once while on assignment. My symbionts would have sensed another strain.”
“Not necessarily. Caitlyn’s Rom symbionts avoided detection while her blood was tasted. It’s a matter of control. My symbionts can filter blood as I ingest it or avoid the transfer as I pass blood to someone else. Whenever my symbionts leave my body, it’s an intentional exchange.”
“You can share blood with hosts from other strains?”
His eyes tingled as he focused on the slender arch of her neck. “Is that an offer or a request?”
She licked her lips then glanced away. “Neither.” She walked into the kitchen, her stride long and purposeful. Then she suddenly stopped and looked back at him. “Are all the Rom captives AB positive hosts? Is that what this is about?”
Not only were the captives all AB positive hosts, but they had all been initiated by Inatta, head of Rom strain. But he’d told Eloise enough for now. Trust needed to be built in stages. “They are. And if Garrett is an AB positive host as well, it’s likely he and Tara are experimenting on the captives, making sure the process is perfected before they try it on Garrett.”
Silence descended as she rummaged through the cupboards and found a glass. “If Rom strain flourishes in AB positive hosts, why haven’t the captives used their abilities to escape?”
“We’re not sure. They might be collared or Garrett might have a formula similar to the one the Levari used on you.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. Apparently I don’t know Garrett nearly as well as I thought I did. I knew he was ambitious and…focused, but I had no idea he was capable of this sort of cruelty.” Her denial sounded a bit hollow and guilt clouded her gaze. It was more likely she’d suspected Garrett was a ruthless bastard and she’d turned a blind eye to his cruelty. She poured herself a glass of water before she said, “I still have one question.”
“Only one?”
“Oh I have many, but one that won’t wait.” She finished the water and set the glass aside. “Why did the Rom only initiate females?”
Damn. He’d hoped to avoid the more disturbing possibilities. Not that experimenting on human captives wasn’t disturbing enough. He ambled toward her, joining her in the kitchen without crowding the limited space. “There is one more layer to Inatta’s discovery. When a human with AB positive blood conceives a child with a pureblood host from a different strain, their child is born with both symbiotic strains.”
Eloise didn’t look convinced. “That’s what Inatta thinks or that’s what she knows?”
“Caitlyn is the result of such a union. That’s how Inatta originally made the connection and eventually learned the rest.”
With her hand pressed over her throat, Eloise shook her head as if she could will away the facts. “No wonder Tara gave this to Garrett. They’re trying to create a generation of Rom-Vladya hybrids.”
“That’s our conclusion as well.” He gave her a moment to digest the information then he pressed on, “Where are they most likely to have taken the captives? We need to find them before it’s too late.”
Chapter Seven
Edrick Yeager paused to enjoy the cool night breeze as he stepped out of the office building. The majority of his business associates were Strigo hosts, but occasionally he encountered a situation that required human involvement. Tonight was one of those rare occasions.
“Did the meeting go well?” Jerome, head of Edrick’s security team, stepped up beside him as they started toward the lone car in the parking lot. Jerome would drive him back to the estate if he wanted or Edrick could flash himself home and Jerome would follow in the car. Such precautions were only necessary when Edrick was dealing with humans, which was one of the reasons Edrick preferred to do business with his own kind.
“I ended up paying more for the property than I wanted but the location is ideal.”
“Location is everything when it comes to real estate. Or so I’ve been told.”
“Mr. Yeager?” The soft female voice seemed to drift on the breeze and then a woman stepped out of the shadows. Jerome moved in front of Edrick, partially blocking Edrick’s view of the woman. She held up her hands and smiled. “I’m unarmed. I just need a moment of your time.”
Edrick scanned the female and then the entire parking lot but sensed no threat, nothing out of the ordinary. Unless she had unusually strong shields, she was human and alone. His fangs tingled at the thought and he motioned Jerome back. She couldn’t be as helpless as she seemed. She’d known his name. That alone made him suspicious.
“Make it quick,” he told her. “It’s been a long night already.”
“I have a message from General Kovac.” She looked pointedly at Jerome. “She insisted that I wait until we are alone before I give it to you.”
“I’m not interested in anything Tara Kovac has to say.” He turned toward the car but the woman caught his arm.
“She hasn’t forgotten about Abigail.”
The name brought him up short and challenged his self-control. He clenched his fists and silently battled the emotions twisting through him. Ang
er and shame, lust and loss, but most of all regret. The wily bitch chose this moment to throw Abigail in his face? Tara must be even more desperate than he thought.
“Get in.” He motioned Jerome toward the car without taking his eyes off the woman. She wore a hip-length sweater and jeans tucked into high-heeled boots. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail and—though the moonlight concealed their color—he had no doubt her eyes were blue. She was older than Abigail and her features lacked the purity he’d found so fascinating, but the resemblance was notable. “Deliver your message and then leave. I’m not in the mood for games.” He twisted his arm out of her loose grip.
“General Kovac wants you to know that she is still committed to the truce between Vladya and Strigo strains.”
“She has a strange way of demonstrating her commitment.”
“She knows that you’ve been sleeping with Inatta and she’s afraid the affair has skewed your perception.”
“My personal life has nothing to do with Tara Kovac.” But how the hell had Tara found out about him and Inatta? They’d indulged their passions a few times and then Inatta had returned to her territory. The flash-fire attraction could hardly be termed an affair.
The messenger ignored his objection and continued, “General Kovac isn’t sure what Inatta told you about the females currently under Vladya protection, but they are not being abused in any way. Inatta initiated these females against their will and was experimenting on them. General Kovac rescued them and has been scrambling to keep them safe ever since.”
Edrick chuckled. “Yes, Tara is well-known for her mercy and compassion for initiated humans.”
“More to the point, this conflict is between Inatta and Tara. It need not concern Strigo strain.”
“Unfortunately for Tara, Prince Alexi has taken a personal interest in the situation.” It was possible that Tara hadn’t found out that Caitlyn was a spy, so Edrick kept the comment vague.
The blonde moved closer, her eyes wide and luminous in the moonlight. A light floral perfume floated over her natural musk. She appeared guileless and approachable, innocent and sweet. Did she taste as fresh as she smelled? Lust stirred within Edrick and he imagined bending her over the hood of the car and fucking her fast and hard while he fed from her throat.
“Things were a lot less complicated before Prince Alexi arrived.”
Her calm statement drew him back from the tantalizing fantasy. “Meaning?”
She licked her lips and glanced into the distance. “If you’re interested in restoring the balance of power on Earth, Tara is more than willing to assist you.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to dismiss the temptation. Alexi was his nephew. There was no way he would allow anything to harm another Yeager.
But the Vladya bitch was right—Earth had been a far less complicated place before Alexi’s arrival.
“I have no interest in murdering my brother’s son,” Edrick insisted. He shoved his hand into his pocket, feeling restless and annoyed.
“We’ll give you two days to think about all the possibilities and then I’ll contact you again.”
“You’re wasting your time.”
She just smiled and nodded toward the car. “Your driver’s waiting. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
Edrick’s heart lodged in his throat as he watched Tara’s messenger walk away. Damn the conniving bitch to hell. She’d known exactly where to strike. As the younger son of a king, Edrick had grown up knowing true power and authority would never be his. Edrick had received the same education and training as his older brother, yet everyone knew Edrick was only a contingency plan.
But all that changed when he’d come to Earth. He’d enjoyed being the ultimate authority, one of the most powerful hosts, Strigo strain’s…king. For almost two hundred years he’d enjoyed the exclusive position.
And then Alexi arrived.
He took a deep breath and shook away the lingering muddle. He couldn’t allow Tara to kill Alexi. It was unthinkable.
“Is everything all right, sir?” Jerome asked as he scrambled out of the car and opened the door for Edrick.
“Everything’s fine.” He even managed to sound convincing, but the restlessness remained.
* * * * *
Eloise entered six locations into Bronik’s phone and handed the device back to him. “The most probable is listed first.”
He looked over the list and then sent the text, likely to Alexi, Edrick or both.
It was official. She was a traitor, a Strigo spy.
She swallowed hard, uncomfortable with the realization. Her position within Vladya strain had been compromised when the Levari took her captive, but she had done this of her own free will. Tara and Garrett both treated initiated hosts with a certain level of disdain. Only hosts born with symbionts were considered “pureblood” and worthy of respect. If the captives remained under their control, abuse was almost guaranteed.
Bronik slipped the phone back into his pocket and ambled toward her. The kitchen wasn’t large to begin with and his tall, broad-shouldered body seemed to eclipse the limited space. “I’ve given you as much time as I dare. What’s your decision?”
Tension pulsed around them, alive and electric. This was it. She had to make her choice and live with the consequences. Could she willingly surrender to the feelings he unleashed within her? It wasn’t a matter of desire. Her body had already cast its vote, aching for his touch, his kiss. But her mind clung to the past, to familiar perceptions and emotions. She’d spent her entire life in Tara’s shadow. Vladya strain was all she knew.
“Submit to your sexual demands or die of starvation?” She tilted her head and smirked. “Gee, let me think.”
Her sarcasm seemed to please him. He smiled in return and traced her jawline with his knuckle. “This fire ignited when you interrogated me. Are you still trying to pretend you don’t feel it too?”
Pretending her paralyzed symbionts were the only reason she was doing this was easier on her conscience than admitting the truth. She didn’t want to die, but her desire for Bronik had smoldered long before her health crisis. Their attraction had been instantaneous and combustible. It likely would have flared into action even if the Levari hadn’t crippled her.
“We often want things that are bad for us,” she pointed out.
“What makes you think I’ll be bad for you?” He moved in close, surrounding her with his heat, yet the light press of his fingers against her cheek remained their only point of contact. “Part your lips.”
He used his thumb to tilt her head back as he lowered his face toward hers. She opened her mouth, waiting, wanting. Something so wrong shouldn’t be this hard to resist.
His lips brushed hers, teasing and soothing as their breaths mingled. She reached back and grabbed the counter’s edge, needing the support yet not wanting to reveal how wobbly her legs had become.
He pushed her shirt up and tugged on the front of her jeans. “Take these off. I didn’t give you permission to cover yourself.”
And so it began. This wasn’t just sex, a mutual exchange of pleasure. He wanted to master her, to bend her to his will. Most male hosts were dominant to some extent, but Strigo strain was the most aggressive. Strigo men required submission from their lovers without exception. And Bronik was a Yeager. He would doubtlessly need her surrender to find release. This wasn’t something they could fake. She had to willingly submit.
She unfastened the top of her jeans then paused. She’d spent her entire life trying to be strong, independent and self-reliant. How could she put all that aside and allow herself to be commanded?
What other choice did she have? She’d severed all ties with Vladya strain when she agreed to cooperate with Bronik. Eloise’s motive for cooperating would mean nothing to Tara. Tara would dispatch her assassins and continue on as if Eloise had never existed.
With slow, deliberate movements, Eloise lowered the zipper and wiggled out of her jeans. Bronik’s shirt still cove
red her crucial areas but the striptease made her feel vulnerable and breathless.
“Raise your arms.” His voice remained calm, almost conversational, but already flecks of green sparkled in the depths of his dark eyes. She obeyed and he pulled the shirt off then casually tossed it aside.
She stood before him naked, arms at her sides, flushed and anxious yet not really afraid. He’d had numerous opportunities to harm her and he’d chosen to protect her instead. If he’d left her with the Levari she’d most likely be dead. She could trust him with her life, but could she trust him with her pleasure?
Memories scrolled through her mind and a secret smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. He’d already demonstrated his skill and willingness to put her needs before his. What more did she want from him?
“I offer my protection, my strength, my life. With me as your sworn protector, you will be treated with respect by others of my strain and you’ll know only pleasure at my hands.” His voice was deep, his tone serious. “What do you offer in return?” She started to speak but he shook his head and motioned toward the floor. “You must kneel.”
He was fully dressed and she was naked. He would stand and she would kneel. The ceremony was obviously designed to accent the dynamics of their arrangement. Submit. Surrender. Her body would belong to him. And his life would belong to her. So who was making the bigger sacrifice?
Desire curled through her torso and lodged between her thighs. She shouldn’t find this exciting but her reaction was undeniable. She slowly sank to her knees and looked up at him, heart thudding madly in her chest. This felt significant, as if she were about to pledge far more than her body.
“What do you offer?” he prompted. “And is your offer made willingly?”
She rested her hands on her thighs and took a deep breath. “I offer my willing submission. My body belongs to you, but only to you. I will not be passed around like a blood-slave.”
He chuckled, amusement softening his stern expression. “I’ll permit the stipulation, though it’s unnecessary. I have no intention of allowing anyone else to touch you.”