by Vyne, Amanda
If he thought back, the obsession had actually started when Katya appeared. It had to be linked to her. Tag arrowed a glance back at Katya where she was hunched over her computer terminal. That genetic mojo the doc had been involved with during her time with the Triumvirate had been used on Katya. Raife was worried about his pregnant mate and with good reason. If she died, so did Raife, and Katya was plainly not in the best of health. In fact Katya was very pale—more so today than last night. Dark shadows around her eyes made them appear sunken. She was obviously exhausted.
Tag turned to frown at the screen displaying the doc’s lab. Brit looked just as exhausted. From the moment she’d returned from that damn research center, she’d been working nonstop. It wasn’t uncommon to see her go for days when the fire of some discovery singed her ass, but this time it was different. That inhuman focus she was known for was definitely there, but this time it was sharp with an edge of something else… Desperation? Panic? That air of separation that always made the doc seem so cold was missing this time.
Tag stepped closer to the screen. Doc was flipping through those damn books she’d nearly gotten herself killed over. She fisted her hands on her hips and tilted her head. He couldn’t see her face, but he’d bet those pale eyes were staring blankly off at the ceiling. It was a posture he’d seen her take many times, often for twenty or more minutes without so much as twitching a finger. Once it had added to the peculiarity of the enigmatic doctor, but now he suspected she was going through all the damn files she kept stored in that wicked brain of hers.
Doc shook her head in agitation and began to riffle through the papers on the table with uncoordinated, frantic movements—very un-doclike behavior. Tag tried to gauge his brother’s reaction. Vin rose from where he’d had his eyes glued to a microscope moments ago and stared at the doc. Tag looked at another screen that provided a different angle of the lab, one where he could clearly see the lines of concern etched in his brother’s forehead.
Tag tried to touch Doc’s mind, but it was moving too quick, her thoughts appearing as nothing more than electric bursts of energy. Yet, the surge of anxiety and panic he felt didn’t need translation. He never could communicate with her when she was like this, but her emotional spill was a new thing, and it worried him. He focused on his brother instead.
“What’s going on?”
Vin’s gaze flicked to the camera before refocusing on Doc. “I’m not sure exactly. She’s been like this since she was told all the survivors from the research facility had been transferred. She’s very agitated.”
“No fucking kidding, Vin. Why?”
“Hell if I know. She’s been pouring over those lab books since Forestor had them brought down.”
Brit suddenly screamed and threw one of Dr. Rupple’s lab books across the room. It collided with a tray of empty glass tubes on the next counter. She stared at the shattered glass, and confused panic crackled through the gap in her mental defenses.
“I’m coming down,” Tag said, and he was already halfway to the door when Vin stopped him.
“NO! Stay there.” Vin’s gaze focused on the camera as though he could see Tag. “If you come down here, add your pheromones to the mix…it would be volatile. We’re only holding on now because we’re not combining.”
Tag paced in front of the screens, rubbing at the stubble of his sheared hair with one hand. Vin was right. Now that Brit was in high heat, the three of them in one space would be beyond combustible. In her current state, she might fight them too hard. Every Drachon loved a good scuffle during the mating, but he didn’t want Brit to actually get hurt. He and Vin were both big men, and she was so petite despite her strength and ferocity. If they were in the mindless state of a true mating fury and there were two males… No, it was better to hold off. Better to give her more time for the heat to wear her down.
“What the hell…”
Tag cast a distracted glare at Raife, who was frowning at another screen; then Tag looked back at the lab feeds. Vin was circling the lab table slowly, his mouth moving. He was speaking too softly for the mic in the lab to pick up his words, but whatever he was saying obviously didn’t sit well with Brit, because she picked up another lab book and threw it at Vin this time. Again anger leaked from her to coat the already existing flood of panic. She was unraveling and not in the sexy way he’d been fantasizing about for two days.
“What the fuck’s going on down there?”
When Vin didn’t respond, Tag growled and started pacing again. Fuck. He wanted to be in there. He had always been there to protect the stubborn doctor from herself, and now he had to leave the role to his brother. He’d known Vin would be sharing her but hadn’t realized that meant Tag would actually have to share her. It was more than just sex… Tag would have to share all of her.
Katya appeared beside them. Her pale blue eyes looked even more ethereal for the dark shadows surrounding them. “I can feel her from here,” Katya said breathlessly, “She’s so angry and…afraid.”
Afraid? Tag turned the word over in his mind as he considered what he was picking up off the doc. Fear, yes. What was she so afraid of? Her lips were moving, and Tag growled in frustration when he couldn’t understand what she was saying.
Dropping down into his chair, Tag pulled the keyboard to him and brought up the controls. He amped up the mic in the lab until he was able to get a clearer audio.
“…not there. She was in the files. The last entry was the day before I arrived. She was there. Oh God, he injected her with that—that…and he tried to kill her—did kill her over and over.” The doc paced away from Vin, pulling her hair back from her face in an agitated gesture. “I’ve got to find her.”
“Oh hell, ah— Tag?” Raife said, but Tag waved him off, his entire being focused on his unraveling almost-mate.
“Who is she talking about?” Tag sent the thought to his brother.
Vin cast a cautious glance up at the camera. “Meghann.”
“Tag, you’re going to want to see this.”
Tag waved Raife off again.
“Who the fuck is that?” Tag ran his fingers over the keys, directing the camera to zoom in on his brother’s face. There was something wrong here. Vin looked almost…haunted, and he was mentally closed down tight.
“Her sister.”
“Hey, man.”
“What?” Tag swiveled in his chair to glare vacantly at Raife, Vin’s words still taking up most of his functioning brain cells. Brit’s sister had been killed with her parents back at the Triumvirate compound the night she’d escaped all those years ago. As far as he knew, she didn’t have any others.
“Dude.” Raife growled and forcefully spun Tag’s chair around to face the screens again, pointing at a specific screen. “Is that who I think it is?”
Tag had to blink twice before the image on the security feed outside of Forestor’s office registered. “Fuck.”
Fingers flying across the keys, he zeroed in on the four giant men Forestor was leading down the hall, not that he needed a more detailed image to know who he was staring at.
“Who are they? What am I missing here?” Katya asked, and Tag could feel her moving in closer behind him to get a better look at the screen.
“The Drakes,” Raife hissed.
The last man in the group paused to look directly into the camera overhead as though he could feel their attention. The bastard probably could. Gray winged either side of his immaculate dark hair. Tiny creases framed familiar brown eyes.
Shit.
“Taggart.”
Tag’s entire body jerked with the impact of the telepathic greeting. It still boomed in his head, wrenching every sin he’d ever tried to hide to the surface of his mind. Even after fifty years. Great, this was exactly what he needed most at this fucked-up point in his life.
“Father.”
* * * *
Meghann.
Vin remembered Brit’s outrageous younger sister. Even the Triumvirate had been unable to control the
troublesome brat, but they hadn’t concerned themselves too much with her since she’d not shown any skills they found useful. They’d kept Meghann around because of the power she gave them over Brit. He’d seen the shot that took Meghann’s life, looked down into her lifeless eyes as he stepped over her body. His damn boots had tracked her blood across the concrete. There was no way the woman still lived.
“Your sister is dead, love,” Vin said gently as he came around the lab counter. He narrowly dodged the book she threw at him. Brit immediately looked contrite and shocked by the outburst. She felt volatile to him, but it was more than her suddenly careening emotions that concerned him. It was her confused and panicked reaction to the loss of control.
“Don’t patronize me. I’ve not lost my wits, dragon,” she snapped, her Irish brogue very thick as she stared down at the leather lab book as though puzzling something out. That accent was arousing, but then again everything about her was arousing right now. Her heat had been clawing at his senses for the better part of two days, and the fiery emotions only heightened it. “I saw her on a video. She was older. Restrained. She was at that damn research facility. They were going to use her to make me finish the research.”
Brit leaned down to pick up the lab book she’d thrown. “And the things they did to her. They injected her with that synthetic ARSA gene. We have to find her before it mutates.”
ARSA.
Ice slid through his veins at her words, and he very nearly shuddered at the sensation. The ARSA project. Brit had lost her family escaping it. It was the project he’d resurrected and had been working on for the past ten years—part of the deal he’d made. The synthetic gene he created and experimented with was ineffective. At least he’d thought so.
“Mutates?” His heart hammered, and he slid the book from her fingers. “How can you be certain?”
Vin scanned the nearly illegible script. Horror swept through him as the notes raved on about cellular regeneration. Fuck. Right there he mentions the lack of efficacy of the ARSA-2. Nothing about mutation. Perhaps she was just overwrought after discovering her sister still lived.
Brit narrowed her blue gaze on him. “Aye. I do not make claims without certainty.”
There was a dangerous spark in her eyes that went straight to his cock. Her agitation made the heady scent of her heat thicker and stronger, and the urge to pin her against the wall and rub his body against hers to coat himself in it was overwhelming. It blended with the sharp taste of his fear that she would discover his role in the research she’d risked everything to destroy. Fear and desire. The combination was decadent, and his cock hardened to the point of pain.
Inside his dragon bucked against his control. It wanted to taunt her with the truth until she attacked, so it could devour her passion and subdue her—mate her. It wanted the heat of a violent mating fury. Vin clenched his fists and blew out a breath in a bid to smother the dark needs clawing at him. Right now, Brit needed his help. She may not know it, but the mating heat had her treading too close to a wicked edge that would drag them all down.
His work on the ARSA project already condemned him. If he allowed the heat to overtake them and Brit lost the window to save her sister, he doubted she would ever accept him. If that happened, their lives would be hell, because Vin had no intention of ever letting her go, and she would fight his dragon at every turn. No, if there even a remote possibility Meghann was alive, he had to find her.
Vin shifted, grateful his slacks allowed room for the raging erection that pulsed insistently between his thighs. His proprietary gaze slid over Brit’s profile with calculation. He wished he could be the kind of man who wanted to save Meghann on principle alone, but the past years had darkened him, and from that darkness came a whisper that he could gain favor with Brit by giving her back her sister. It could be a path to redemption if she discovered his past. He wasn’t proud of that voice, but there wasn’t enough of his humanity left to be ashamed either. He just accepted it.
“If you say Meghann was there, I believe you. Read me the file.” Vin listened as she recited the last data entered in the files Brit believed to be Meghann’s. The final entry was the day before. “She could have escaped during the raid.”
Brit shook her head. “No. She knew I was being brought there. She addressed me specifically in the video. Why run at the very moment we were being rescued?”
Vin studied Brit a long moment. Her dark red hair fell around her face, and she pushed a thick lock behind her tiny ear. Pale blue eyes luminescent and cheeks flushed from the heat racking her body, she looked beautiful. He was in a position to stoke her hope, keep it burning to pull every last dreg of benefit from it, but he couldn’t— wouldn’t—do that to her. He evidently still had limits.
“Britony.” Vin lowered his voice. “Is there a chance she didn’t make it from the facility alive?”
Those haunting blue eyes met his. “No, Dr. Rupple was very confident that I would do what he wanted, and he was shocked by the raid. They barely had time to escape.”
Vin crossed his arms over his chest. “There were very few casualties from the raid. Most of the security detail escaped. Could they have taken her with them when they left? Tag has the recovered video surveillance from the building. Perhaps if you locate where they kept her?”
A frown marred the pale expanse between her dark red eyebrows. She sorted through the remaining books and picked up a volume. She flipped it open. “She was relocated to a new wing of the facility marked for a ‘special project.’ That was on the fifteenth of last month, but the medical files don’t indicate where that was at.”
There was a faint buzz that told him Tag was trying to speak to him, but Vin ignored his brother for the moment. “Then there should be an electronic log of it. Certainly Tag can have that answer for us easy enough. In the meantime, can you identify the other individuals in that ‘special project’?”
Brit pulled a pad of paper across the counter and began writing a list of subject files.
“If we can identify them, then we can question them about your sister. They may have information on what happened to her that last day. Just try to keep control…” Vin licked his lips and shook his head. “We are trying to give you time, but the heat is getting worse.” The buzzing grew in intensity, and Vin spun to glare up at the camera. “She is fine, brother. The situation is under control.”
There was a wealth of satisfaction in Tag’s voice. “On the contrary, brother, the situation is actually just getting started. The Drakes should be on you right…about…” Vin became aware of the hissing of the locks disengaging on the lab door behind him as Tag’s voice trailed off.
The Drakes… Vin turned on his heel, his heart hammering in alarm. The lab door slid open with a surreal slowness, and then he was there. In the flesh. After twenty years.
“Father.” Vin barely managed to get the greeting past the stranglehold his heart had on his throat.
Kahn Jennings filled the room with his larger-than-life presence. He was well over six foot tall, barrel-chested with a full beard and a hard, dark brown gaze that slashed past Vin and landed on Brit. His nostrils flared, and that accusing gaze swung back to Vin. Obviously they were going to skip the heartfelt homecoming and get right to the point.
From the corner of his eye, Vin saw Brit prop her fists on her hips. Her lips thinned, and he could practically taste her rising irritation. “Must you all scent the air like animals? It’s an invasion of my privacy.”
Kahn ignored Brit and narrowed his gaze on Vin before turning his glare to the camera in the ceiling. “Boys!” His voice boomed, and Vin couldn’t help but wince, much like he had as a kid, or at least from the moment he’d grown old enough to let Tag get him into trouble. “Why is this woman not properly mated?”
“Father,” Vin started, “the situation is complicated.”
Chapter Thirteen
Father?
Blood was pulsing hot and insistent through Brit, but she was capable of separating her b
ody and mind. Mostly. She’d learned the talent during the strenuous lessons she’d undergone from the Triumvirate scientists as a girl. When her back ached or her hands cramped from hours of being in the lab, she simply turned her awareness of them off. For once she was thankful to the Triumvirate for those lessons, because she would never have been able to function with the symptoms of the Drachon heat constantly waging an assault within her.
Even if it was starting to chip away at her control.
The feel of the blood pulsing in her neck and between her thighs heightened her arousal, but it was manageable as she stepped forward to study the large man standing in her lab as though he owned it. Obviously a trait Tag had gotten honestly.
Brit snorted and propped her fists on her hips. So this was the guys’ father? She could see the resemblance in the low set of his brow and the breadth of his shoulders, but that was where the physical resemblance waned. The twins obviously bore a more striking resemblance to their mother.
A mated Drachon. Silver barely touched the dark hair at his temples and salted the strands of his thick beard. He presented an intriguing opportunity. Her knowledge was limited to what she’d observed while treating Raife Merrick. Raife was only recently mated, and his biology was just beginning an extraordinary metamorphosis. Though the stubborn ass wouldn’t allow her access to anything but his and Katya’s blood. This man, on the other hand, had to have been mated for the better part of a century at least. The Drachon biology, particularly that of mated Drachon, was so guarded that she was instantly drawn to the lure of what this man could tell her with just one small tissue sample.
“How old are you?” Brit eyed the man with clinical interest, ignoring the amused lift of his thick eyebrows. “How long have you been mated?”
“Doc, you are not experimenting on my father.”