by Lexi Ryan
“Or maybe they are true,” Chrissie said.
Paige shook her head. “But not Collin and Rider. Collin would do a lot of despicable things, but he would never—” She collapsed into a chair. “He wouldn’t,” she muttered. Almost believing it. But three months ago, she’d have said he’d never leave her. Never hurt her like he had. Was there any trust after that?
“We’re going to Eden,” Chrissie said. “And we can call another firm to protect Scott’s family while we’re gone.”
Josie was slipping into the trance again, and Chrissie kneeled in front of her. She took her shoulders in her hands, shaking her lightly. “Jo! You know what you saw doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means it could—”
Chrissie put her hand to Josie’s lips. “Nothing means anything until it happens. And we’re not going to let it. Got it?”
Josie nodded, her head wobbling on her shoulders for a minute before Chrissie stopped it with her hands and kissed her forehead. She was doubtlessly seeing Josie’s memories of finding her family. The scene had been similar to the one Josie had described from her vision of Scott’s wife. Wolves, the police had said.
“When do we leave?” Paige asked Chrissie.
Chrissie was sitting in Josie’s lap, hugging the girl to her chest. “Aaron’s going to contact the Secret Service. We’ll make plans once we hear from them.”
“We should contact the SIA, too,” Paige said.
Chrissie rolled her eyes. “Probably, though you know they won’t want us involved, and I’m going to Eden. From what I gathered from Scott’s memory, something was supposed to go down on Eden if the inaugural ball plan didn’t work. Let’s just hope things haven’t changed since Scott was last in the know.”
Paige bit her lip. “Collin wasn’t part of what happened at the inaugural ball.”
Chrissie gave her a pitying look. “All we know is that he told you he wasn’t part of it. There’s a big difference.”
“Right.” Paige nodded, but she felt like she’d been slammed in the solar plexus.
* * * *
Collin threw handfuls of dead flowers in the trash can and turned his smile on Tara. He couldn’t stop smiling since she’d used her mind to kill the flowers without touching them.
“Tara, do you know why you’re so Special?” he asked, lowering himself to sit on the edge of her bed.
Tara’s cheeks burned. She tucked her legs under her, lotus style. “Because of the way I came into my power?” God, he smelled good. She drew a long breath in through her nose. Dark. Musky. Male.
“That’s right,” he said.
She nodded and her heart slowed. Nothing calmed her more than the sound of his deep voice, his blue eyes watching her.
He gave a half smile. Not a real one. Not the full-out smile he used to give Paige. Maybe he’d never give Tara that smile.
“Tara, I want to show you something.”
He pulled a small cage from his bag. The cage was divided into three sections: brown floor with brown chips on the left, black in the middle, and gray on the right.
“Do you see the rat?” he asked.
She looked closely, and Collin tapped the inside of the cage. A small brown rat ran to the other side, and as soon as it stopped on the gray chips, its fur turned gray. “A chameleon rat,” she murmured.
Collin nodded. “The scientist who tested on me and Rider bred a family of Special rats by splicing in the Special gene.”
“Wow,” she said. “That’s amazing.”
“Can I show you something?”
She nodded.
“Give me your hand.”
She did and he pricked her finger with a pin. Tara bit her lip as he squeezed her finger and wiped several drops of her blood onto a glass slide.
“Watch this.” He slid the slide into the cage, and the rat licked the blood greedily, continuing to lick the glass when it was gone.
Tara wrinkled her nose.
Suddenly the rat stopped licking, stopped moving, and its little gray body turned stiff and shifted back to brown.
“What’s wrong with him?” Tara asked.
“He’s dead, Tara.”
“So, this is how—”
“That’s right.”
She took a shaky breath. “Wow.”
Her bottom lip began to quiver and she stopped it with her teeth. She wasn’t some little girl, afraid of her own power. She was going to make a difference. With Collin.
“Tara,” Collin said, stroking her cheek.
“Yeah?”
“We’re going to change the world.”
Tears streaked hot paths down her cheeks. “I know we are.”
Chapter Eleven
Paige helped herself to a glass of Darian’s wine and wandered nude around his condo.
The space was impressive, an Alexandria brownstone with a vaulted ceiling, decorated in warm colors. With throw pillows on the couch and artwork on the walls, it wasn’t the bachelor pad she’d expected. One wall of the living room was lined with bookshelves packed with a variety of reading material, from mysteries to true crime to books about physics and the composition of the universe. The scientific books made up the greatest percentage of material.
She flipped on the gas fireplace and wondered when Darian would come home. When she’d driven over here, she’d justified the decision by telling herself she needed to be at her best before they left for Eden. Since then, she’d picked his lock, short-circuited his alarm system—rather impressive, but nothing a professional like herself would have any trouble getting around—and stripped down to her birthday suit. Enough time had passed that she’d faced the truth.
She didn’t just need to recharge. She could have done that with her trusty vibrator. She needed Darian’s goodness and stability near her. She needed what he meant to her.
This wasn’t about Collin anymore. She wasn’t even sure she loved Collin anymore. Maybe part of her always would, but with more distance she could see their relationship had been unhealthy from the very start. She’d felt indebted to him, had once nearly worshipped him. As she’d matured, their relationship hadn’t been able to mature with her. Collin kept secrets from her—she’d always known that. She just hadn’t realized the extent of those secrets. She’d wanted him to be her partner, not just her lover. But Collin didn’t want a partner. He wanted a disciple.
She heard the front door click and a smiled curled her lips. Darian.
“Now, that’s an image I could get used to coming home to,” Darian murmured behind her.
She turned. He was sliding his gun back into its holster. She raised a brow.
“I could tell someone had been here,” he explained with a shrug before returning his attention to a careful perusal of her body. “What did I do to deserve this?”
She chuckled and took a sip of her wine.
“I’m serious. I want to know so I can make sure I do it again.” He didn’t smile as he said it, and his eyes were hot on every part of her. Her breasts tingled as he studied them. Her thighs tensed. She wanted to tell him to quit staring and start touching, and at the same time to let him look forever.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever...” He trailed off, shaking his head in wonder, then sighed. “Fernandez has been warning me that it’s a bad idea to have sex with you.” He said the words more to himself than to her.
“Fernandez is an idiot,” she said.
“Good point.”
His body was against her suddenly. He pulled her close with one hand and took her wine with the other. He set the glass on a coffee table, then he began to explore her body in earnest. Hands and mouth on her face, her shoulders, her neck, working their way down her body.
Dipping his head, he pulled the tip of her breast into his mouth, and a shuddering gasp escaped her lips.
She drew his head back to her mouth and pressed her body against his.
“God,” she murmured, feeling the length of him, “you’re so hard.” His arousal
was strong, swamping her. The second he’d touched her, she’d known they wouldn’t last even minutes before he was inside her. He wanted her too much, and she loved knowing it, loved feeling it. She worked at the fly of his jeans.
“You have no idea,” he said, moving his mouth to her neck. He sucked and bit the flesh there. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” His hands found her breasts. “Thinking about this, about being inside you.”
When she had him free of his jeans and squeezed him in her hand, he groaned.
“Now,” she whispered, grabbing a condom from where she’d left it on the mantel. She ripped it open and slid it over his cock. “I want you now.”
He slid his hands under her ass and lifted her. When he lowered her onto his shaft, she wrapped her legs around his waist. She could feel how much he wanted her, see how beautiful she looked through his eyes, feel his pleasure and hers.
The swollen head of his cock filled her and she came apart at once—riding the wave of her own orgasm while his was only building. Feeling both.
He pressed her back against the wall and pumped into her harder. She was climbing toward another orgasm before she’d recovered from the first. The way he was moving now hit her just so...
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, clenching around him.
She sucked at his neck and held on for dear life as he took her up and over again.
* * * *
“We think you’re right,” Paige said later, her arms and legs tangled with his as they lay nude before the fire.
Darian leaned on his forearm as he looked down at her. “About what?”
She sighed and looked at the ceiling, enjoying the heat from the fireplace on her bare, sweat-soaked skin, enjoying the way he couldn’t resist looking at her nude body no matter how many hours they’d been going at it. “Collin’s trying to kill the president.” The words didn’t hurt like she thought they would.
Darian stroked her forehead, brushing hair out of her face. “I’m sorry,” he said.
She licked her lips. “Don’t be. It shouldn’t be such a surprise to me.” She shook her head and looked at Darian. His eyes were so soft, so sweet. “They did terrible tests on him and Rider. I don’t know how much the government was involved, but the doctor who performed the test was on a government salary, so Collin’s distrust always made sense to me. Even when I didn’t agree, I understood. But this? I can’t understand this.”
Darian stroked her cheek. “We’ll stop him.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“The SIA won’t let—”
Paige shot to a sitting position. “The SIA? You think the Stiletto Girls are just going to fade into the background now?”
Darian sighed. “I was hoping you would let us take care of it, yes.”
She growled and stood, walking across the room for her wine. “I can do what needs to be done.”
He followed her. “Paige—”
She held up her hand. “I will protect my country.” And my sister, she thought. “I will do what’s necessary. I’m not so selfish that I won’t sacrifice—”
Darian put a finger to her lips. “Shh.” He locked his gaze with hers. “Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t want to make a sacrifice. Maybe I’m the selfish one. I’m not willing to risk you.”
The words, so plentiful on her tongue moments ago, faded. She ran her fingers over the stubble on his face, loving the feel of it—of him—and searched for the words she needed. They came out in a whisper. “Please don’t dictate my life because you think you know what’s best for me.” She swallowed, feeling suddenly like she was walking on loose earth that was sliding away beneath her feet. “I’ve been in that relationship, and I’m never going back.”
He pulled her against him and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Relationship, huh? Is that what this is?”
She thumped his chest. “No. Not exactly.” She snuggled into his heat. “I don’t want to hear you calling yourself my boyfriend now or something.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her until the she didn’t feel like she was slipping anymore. Kissed her until she broke free from the earth altogether and began flying.
* * * *
Paige was out of bed before five a.m., and Darian stayed perfectly still as she padded around his room gathering her things.
They’d been up most of the night—touching, kissing. Every time she had started to leave, he would kiss her again—rolling a nipple in his mouth, sucking on the sensitive spot over her hip, or licking her clit in the way that made her cry his name.
Maybe sleeping with her left him open to her, but he had nothing to hide from Paige. He didn’t believe they were working with Collin, and he didn’t believe Collin was going to use them to get to the president. There was nothing to be lost by sleeping with her.
Or so he’d thought.
But now she was leaving. Trying to slip out before he woke, just like last time.
* * * *
By the time she reached Tara’s room, Paige was sweating under the stress of the pain. She was hypersensitive after last night with Darian, and today was a bad day at the hospital to boot.
She knocked once before opening the door, but caught her sister unaware anyway.
“Tara! What are you doing?”
Tara pulled her hand away from the flower that was wilting at her fingertips.
Paige opened her mouth, then closed it. “How long—? When—? Who—?” Paige put a hand over her mouth, nausea swelling up inside her.
Fucking. Bastard.
Collin had wanted a disciple and he’d found one. And then he’d fucked her.
Paige turned on her heel and strode out of the room. She turned into the first public restroom and retched, her anger and disgust pushing every bit of that morning’s coffee from her stomach.
Not bothering to return to her sister’s room, she headed for the exit.
Once outside, she was no longer ravaged by the pain of dying children—only the heat of her own anger. She slid her cell phone from her purse and stared at it.
Last time she’d called him was seven days after he left her. It had been in a moment of weakness that she’d dialed. When he’d answered, she’d disconnected the call and swore to herself she wouldn’t dial the number again.
But she did now.
As she listened to his ring, she exhaled slowly. He wasn’t very likely to come to her if she said, “You fucking bastard, you slept with my sister! Come here so I can kick your ass!”
Think like a Stiletto Girl, she told herself. How would you handle this if it were business?
His voice mail clicked on. “This is Collin. Leave a message if you want, but don’t be stupid. They’re listening.”
Her hand tightened around the phone. “Collin? You need to call me. I—” She exhaled. That wasn’t good enough.
She fumbled with her purse, looking for the card he’d given her the night of the inauguration.
* * * *
Renee tossed her thick red hair over her shoulder and smiled at Collin. He found her vampire fantasies a little odd, but it worked for them. She got off, he got stronger.
He bit into the exposed skin on her neck, hard enough to make her wince and make her wet. He knew she’d prefer if he could actually puncture her skin with his teeth, but she’d have to find herself a real bloodsucker if she wanted that.
He lifted her arm and, with a small knife from his pocket, made an incision at her wrist. She licked her lips.
Collin lowered his head and drank. Power pumped through him. She moaned.
He wouldn’t take much. He’d drink enough to heighten his ability, then he’d fuck her, the taste of her blood on his lips making her wild. That was the extent of their relationship, and as far as he knew, they were both content with it.
The front door clicked.
Shit. Hadn’t he locked that?
He withdrew from his feeding and saw Paige. Cheeks flushed from the cold, ha
ir in wild windblown waves around her face, she stared at him with horror in her eyes.
“Paige,” he whispered even as he felt a hot trickle of blood trail down his chin. Holy shit, what have I done?
“Stay away from my sister, asshole.” She turned her murderous glare on Renee. “Do you know he’s fucking a teenager? Does that bother you? Or—” she motioned to Renee’s wrist “—are you simply food to him?”
“Fuck.” He dropped Renee’s arm. “It’s not what you think, Paige.”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I can see that now.” She turned and was out the door in a flash.
Fuck.
* * * *
“She’s dead.”
Josie had been on the floor rocking herself when Chrissie and Paige had arrived at the office. Two cups of green tea and ten hugs later, she was finally talking.
“Who, sweetie?” Chrissie asked.
Josie reached behind the couch and pressed the button on the answering machine. It was the agent they’d asked to take the Scott case.
“I went straight to that residence when I got your message, but I was too late. The police were there and they were taking away the body. Listen, I’m really sorry.”
Josie pressed the stop button and stared into space. “It’s my fault. If I would have spit it out sooner, acted instead of flipping out, we could have saved her.”
Paige and Chrissie exchanged a look. Rational or not, Josie felt responsible. Scott’s wife was an extension of her family in some wounded part of her mind, and she couldn’t help but take on the guilt.
“We’ll find who did this,” Chrissie said, stroking Josie’s hair.
Josie frowned and looked up at Paige. “What if it’s Collin?”
Paige took the question without a wince. After what she’d seen at Collin’s apartment— “Then we’ll make him pay.”
They girls went through a weak plan of attack. With no timeline in Chrissie’s vision, they didn’t know if they’d be on Eden for hours, days, or weeks. With no major players—save Collin, who’d never been one to get his hands dirty—they didn’t even know who they were looking for. They didn’t need much to do their job, but they needed to be prepared.