by Vyne, Amanda
“God-damn it, Brit. Don’t.” Tag’s voice was deadly serious in her mind, but she continued to ignore him.
Intrigued, Brit stepped forward, and the males stood abruptly, some knocking their chairs back. The clatter was deafening in the room, and she paused. Their sexual aggression was palpable and very focused on her. Disregarding her own restless response, she stepped closer and noted their sunken eyes and flushed skin. They also looked emaciated in comparison to the healthy specimens.
Unmated males in their final heat?
“Brit, step back now.”
Brit paid little heed to Tag’s urgent hiss in her mind. If she could obtain samples from these Drachon—she darted a glance to what appeared to be healthier specimens—and perhaps others for comparison, she may be able to isolate what caused the mental and physical deterioration of older, unmated Drachon.
“Damn it, Brit, turn around and leave now. Vin will meet up with you to escort you back to the lab.”
The words barely registered as a buzz in her head. One of the men rounded the table, and Brit’s vision dissolved into shades of red. Heat spread up her neck and into her face, her heart suddenly racing. Stumbling back a step, she struggled to focus. What was happening?
“Dr. Mahoney!”
Brit started and turned her gaze to the big man who quickly stepped between her and the other advancing Drachon. His hands were folded behind his back as he smiled down at her, tight lines bracketing his lips. There was faint shadowing beneath his eyes, but his pupils were round, normal. Blinking once to clear her vision, she really looked at him. A chestnut cap of hair crowned his head, too short to be considered truly unkempt yet long enough to be unruly. He had an outgrowth of hair on his face that indicated a failed attempt to grow a full beard. She vaguely recognized him.
“Mr. Fallon.”
Brim Fallon was the emissary of the Drakes, if she recalled correctly. She’d encountered him several weeks ago at a meeting when Agent Merrick brought Katya back to Incog.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Dr. Mahoney. How are Taggart and Vincent Jennings?” Brim asked pleasantly.
Brit glanced around at the nearly tangible reaction in the Drachon surrounding them. The two men who’d stood retreated a step. Their pupils still presented misshapen and…were they emitting a low rumble from their chests?
“Manipulative and overbearing,” Brit responded drily as she became aware that Brim Fallon was purposely warning these men off. “But I’m beginning to suspect that is just a condition of their species.”
One corner of Brim’s lips lifted marginally, and his eyes lightened. “I would hazard that you may very well be right.” Just as suddenly, his eyes dimmed, and he turned his face away from her.
The more aggressive males standing behind Brim shuddered and hunched their shoulders, averting their gazes. They still rumbled like her Da’s motorboat. All around the room, the Drachon were displaying the same behavior.
Brit felt Vin before she saw him. His presence hummed with a strange energy. The heat that had been a faint flush in her face before sizzled through her veins like acid, alighting her flesh as though she stood too close to a fire. Her nipples hardened, and a disconcerting dampness presented itself between her thighs. She almost groaned at her reaction to Vin. It was growing in intensity each time she saw him.
There was a notable surge in the rumbling in the room. Were they…growling? Did Drachon growl like Guardians did?
Brit gasped as Vin stepped up behind her until the front of his body was flush with the back of hers, and the heat was so overwhelming her eyes fluttered shut and she unconsciously swayed back against him. His essence rose up and flooded over her, thick and incredibly warm, surrounding her, streaking across her chest and sending her nipples into aching awareness. She opened her eyes and looked down, frowning at the thick arm that crossed over her chest possessively. His dark brown shirtsleeve was rolled up to reveal the dragon that curled and writhed around his forearm as though alive.
Energy crackled over her and sliced out across the room like a whip. In front of her, Brim tensed and slowly lifted his head. The muscles in his jaw pulsed with the effort it took.
“I believe you made your point, Jennings,” Brim growled and jerked his body as if to throw off a hold.
“My apologies, Fallon.” Vin’s voice was low and strained, but the tension that held the room in thrall retreated. “It has been…difficult.”
Several Drachon lifted their trays and gave her a wide berth, nodding respectfully before they hastily exited the room, eyes downcast. Vin didn’t so much as glance at them.
Brit turned her head to watch them leave before trying unsuccessfully to push Vin’s arm away from her. It was like a steel bar, and she gave up and turned in the cradle of his embrace to face him. It was awkward with her tray held out to one side and the other hand pressed against his chest to keep some distance between them. He didn’t release her, but his hand dropped to her hip. The heavy weight of it had her remembering the feel of that fist in her hair. The warm, salty taste of him on her tongue. Shaking her head, she jerked in his hold again, pressing her shoulder back. “Should I even ask what that was about? Psychological chest-pounding?”
Vin’s eyes nearly glowed green as he gazed down at her. He pulled her closer. She could feel the hard press of his erection against her belly. “In a manner.”
“Excellent,” Brit sniped drily and tried to maneuver around him. She could hear the ghostly moans he gave her yesterday when she sucked that part of him that pulsed against her stomach. She was going up in flames, unable to control her thoughts…her body. Panic suffused her, tainting her desire, adding a more desperate edge to it. He turned his hand to loosely bracket her wrist. A spasm racked her abdomen at the sensation, and she pivoted to stand next to him. He casually reached up to wrap his fingers around her upper arm. She got the impression he wasn’t going to release her, but at least she was able to give herself some breathing room.
Brim was smiling, and she had the urge to throw her tray at him. The faded blue of his eyes lightened again, looking almost gray. “I’ve yet to decide whether I envy you or not, Jennings.”
The corners of his eyes creased with his faint smile. He responded to Brim, but he was looking down at her, his voice, his gaze a caress. “Perhaps not just yet…but eventually.”
Brim’s laugh was booming, and he slapped Vin on the shoulder. “Indeed.”
Their humor dissipated, and Vin’s fingers tightened around her arm. He looked up at the other Drachon. “The Drakes?”
Brim sighed. “I was checking the status of the situation before I escorted them in. I spoke with Forestor earlier. I was just grabbing a free meal before heading back out. And I retrieved the last package.”
Vin stiffened, and she glanced up at him. His gaze flittered over her face, and a frown deepened the line between his brows. “Yes, those would be useful here as soon as it can be arranged.”
Brim’s eyes flickered with interest, but he nodded. “I will forward your request.”
Brit tried to pull away again without upsetting her tray. Heat moved up her arm from the contact with him, an erotic crawl that intensified the tingling in her breasts. She remembered the feel of Tag’s mouth pulling at her nipples, his teeth scoring the tips. She jerked again, the sensation so real. She had to get away from him. “As pleasantly ambiguous as this has all been, I believe I can live happily without it.”
Brim’s nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, and he dipped his head in respect. “Jennings. Dr. Mahoney.”
Vin stared down at her, barely acknowledging the other man’s retreat, and Brit was careful to mask her reaction to him. The memory of having him in her mouth, of holding him in her hands. The soft and heavy sensation of having his testicles cradled in her palms sent another spasm through her belly. She needed space to regroup, to reaffirm her control, to evict the memories that were haunting her.
“I’ll escort you back to the lab.” Vin took the t
ray from her hand and grabbed her elbow to lead her from the room.
Another current of arousal flowed from the touch. God, what was happening? She ached, and it was so much worse than yesterday.
“I resent being dragged about like a recalcitrant child.”
The elevator doors slid open, and he led her inside. “I apologize if you feel like a child. I certainly don’t view you that way.”
Brit was assaulted by the ridiculous urge to dive through the diminishing distance between the doors. If she thought being in that small space with just Tag’s attention was suffocating and intimate, having Vin crowding her would be worse. She tried to breathe through her mouth, but she could taste him on her tongue. Musky and male. Her heart beat an unsteady staccato in her head, deafening her.
When the doors opened, Brit barely managed not to lunge through them. She just wanted to escape to the solitude of her lab, but Tag, that bastard, wouldn’t open the doors until Vin was right behind her. When he gripped her elbow again, the damn lock disengaged.
Vin led her through the lab to her lounge in the back and set her tray on the table. “You need to eat.”
Brit stared down at the food that had looked so appetizing only minutes ago, but now her stomach was too tight to eat. Arousal and heat surged through her body, and she nearly fell to her knees. Without a word, Brit retreated to the relative safety of the restroom and slammed the door behind her.
“You can’t run from this, love.” Vin’s voice rumbled through the thick wood and reached her.
With a low moan, she reached out to grip the sink with both hands. She lowered her head, letting the lock of hair that fell over her face give the illusion of privacy. Did Tag have security cameras in here? She wouldn’t be surprised, but she couldn’t risk the exposure to check for sure, not now when she felt as though one tap would shatter her. Instead she chose to just believe there was one place in this whole damn building that was a sanctuary for her. Just for a moment. Just until she got herself back under control.
Pressing a palm against her chest, she frowned at the heavy thud of her heart slamming against her ribs in a frenetic beat. Heat suffused her face and eased in a warm rush over her skin. What was wrong with her?
There was a faint buzz in her head, and another lock of hair fell against her neck when she jerked her chin to the side in denial. She knew Tag was trying to speak with her, recognized the annoying static she heard when she refused his telepathic demands.
Instead she glanced up in the mirror, pushing her hair back with a shaking hand to look at her pale face. Her pupils were dilated. Her irises were pale rings around the glittering blackness. How could she be mating to a pair of Drachon? It wasn’t possible that she was having this strong of a physiological reaction to them. Had Dr. Rupple injected her with one of his serums? She’d been rendered unconscious when they’d transported her to the facility. How long had she been out?
“Britony.”
Brit cast a startled glance around. That familiar voice felt as though it was a low rumble against her neck. Goose bumps flooded the already sensitive flesh in reaction. She was, of course, alone in the small room, but the heavy feeling as though someone stood next to her didn’t abate. Could that be another symptom?
“Calm yourself. Dr. Rupple didn’t experiment on you.”
Vin? Another ripple of awareness slithered down her neck and shoulders, drawing her nipples into tight peaks. With a gasp, she pressed her hands over them to ease the sharp tingling. How could he be communicating with her, let alone having this strong an influence on her body? Tag had never been able to so much as speak telepathically with her if she wished to keep him out.
“I’m a much stronger telepath than my brother.” Heat coursed down the right side of her neck as though he breathed the words against her skin. Brit nearly moaned as the flood of sensation continued down to pool in her belly. “And we’re much, much stronger together.”
His voice was hypnotic as it filled her mind, overwhelming her—a dark, endless rumble against her nerve endings. She struggled to push her thoughts to the surface of the languorous ebb that was her sense of him. If this wasn’t a response to something Dr. Rupple did to her, then how could they be having such a powerful impact on her? She’d been cool and rational and capable of compartmentalizing every aspect of herself until those two happened to her. Even as the question rose in her consciousness, she was afraid she knew the answer.
“Always thinking, Doc.” A chuckle reverberated through her, sending every synapse firing through her body. She recognized that voice and her reaction to it. Tag.
And Vin. It couldn’t be possible. Drachon were possessive, their overprotective instincts toward their mates legendary. Admittedly, she knew very little about the species, but she’d never even heard so much as a whisper about threesomes.
“Not a threesome, a triad. Rare.” Vin’s mental whisper felt hot against her ear, and she shivered. She jerked as the brush of fingers touched her hip and the heavy heat of a big hand settled low on her stomach. “Special.”
She arched her hips and had to reach for the sink again to balance herself. The sensation didn’t leave with the movement, and she pressed her own hand over her stomach in defense. She could feel the muscles of her stomach clench beneath her palm, but the heat of that ghostly hand didn’t abate.
How was this possible? This couldn’t be happening. Not to her. Not now.
“To us, Doc. And it’s definitely happening.” The wet brush of lips slid over her cheek and down her neck. She closed her eyes and tightened her grip on the sink. The frantic drum of her heart thudded in her ears, and she bit back a moan as it felt like those lips parted over her neck and nipped the sensitive valley that connected her neck to her shoulder.
“You’ve been exposed to our combined pheromones. Your body is already reacting.” The heat of the hand against her belly slid lower until it spanned across her pelvis, teasing the rise of her mound. “Changing.”
She was throbbing, her head, her breasts…between her legs. She could feel her blood surging recklessly through her body, carrying the hormones that were no doubt changing her even as she stood here, and her only weapon, her mind, was worthless against it. If they were right, then there was nothing she could do, no way to stop it.
“Ready or not, Doc.”
She was going into heat.
Chapter Twelve
“Still fighting it, I see.”
Tag grunted at Raife as the other Drachon strolled into the tech room. The man went straight to his mate, who was working with a single-minded efficiency that Tag wished he could affect. As it was he had given up even the pretense of working hours ago. He followed Doc’s every move on the video feed from the lab like a mutt would watch a stick being waved about. He wasn’t too proud to admit it. Tag wanted that damn stick, and he was going to lunge for it the first chance he got. He was just waiting for that chance.
And Doc did not make it easy.
“She in full heat?” Raife asked, coming to stand next to him in front of the wall of screens that displayed all the security feeds from the building.
“Yup.” Tag had seen her briefly this morning, and she was in high heat, her scent so strong he’d gone instantly hard and his eyes had flickered to heat vision. He and Vin couldn’t be in the same room with her, their combined pheromones more than they could withstand. Hell, just hers were almost too much to take. That near miss in the cafeteria last night excluded any other Drachon from working in the lab with her, which meant there was only Vin. Tag had no idea how the hell his brother could stand to be so close to her and not bend her over a lab table. Tag would have christened every surface in that damn lab by now.
“Can’t say I’m surprised. The doc is cold as ice,” Raife said and then swiveled to look at Katya, who’d obviously telepathically reprimanded him. “What? I’m just stating the obvious.”
Tag only snorted when a couple of days ago, those would have been fighting words. The difference was he
knew now just how far off the mark they were. The doc wasn’t even close to ice. She was all fire and so damn hot it made his dragon writhe in anticipation. All he could think was she would make a magnificent mate, and he would more than enjoy the coming challenge. His stubborn little doctor was going to go down fighting.
Tag watched her lean over her microscope, his gaze dropping to admire the way the material of her slacks stretched taut over her ass.
Oh, yeah, the doc was going to go down…and down…and down.
“Figure out why your brother suddenly showed up?”
Tag glared at Raife, his licentious thoughts evaporating at the mention of his brother. Whatever motivated Vin had everything to do with their mate. “No.”
“Fuck, Jennings, that’d be at the top of my to-do list, considering.”
Tag grunted again and watched hungrily as Doc moved around her lab. She wasn’t graceful, not in a traditionally feminine way. She was precise, controlled, fierce, and focused. And it was damn sexy on her. The memory of her rose, pale legs straddling his hips, small fists clenched in his shirt as she rode him, blue eyes so intense. A shiver crawled up his thighs to clench around his balls, and he shook himself free from the image before he achieved his hundredth cockstand of the day.
“Whatever Vin’s problem is, I trust him with Brit,” Tag said and realized it was true. The past twenty years of his brother’s life was uncertain, darkened by so many shadows Tag wasn’t even sure he wanted to see past them. Vin’s loyalties were undoubtedly questionable, but his commitment to their mate was not.
Tag caught Raife’s frown from the corner of his eye. “And the doc? Do you trust her?”
And wasn’t that the question of the hour? Did he trust the doc?
Tag rubbed the day’s growth on his chin as he considered that. His little doctor was definitely up to something, but he was beginning to suspect whatever that something was had very little to do with helping the Triumvirate. No, this was the most focused and resolute he’d ever seen her. She was so intent on finding something in her work that she was able to resist the heat, which was damn impossible—or should have been. What the hell was she looking for? And why now?