Bite Back Box Set 2

by Mark Henwick

She reached into the pocket and drew out a box. It was rectangular, about the size of a hand, and covered in soft black velvet with a gold clip on the front.

  Jen fumbled with the clip.

  “I know there’s not a hope in hell that anyone official’s going to recognize what we have, I mean outside of the Athanate,” she said. “But I wanted…”

  Her voice trailed away.

  The clip finally released and she opened the box.

  Inside were six gold rings.

  Alex swallowed. “Isn’t it supposed to be five gold rings, four calling birds—”

  I hit him in the ribs again.

  “Two each,” I whispered, and Jen nodded.

  They fit perfectly.

  Whether it was wearing the rings, or just finding ourselves alone with each other for once, it was suddenly awkward.

  Jen was quickest to recover. “Let’s have lunch.”

  This was a ranch. No Carmen to cook, and it was only because she’d called ahead that there was any food in the kitchen. We’d cook together.

  “Steaks,” Alex said, looking into the fridge. “Or…steaks.”

  “Hmm. Wine first,” Jen said, opening a bottle of red wine and splashing it into glasses.

  She turned the stove on and toured the kitchen, retrieving what we needed.

  “Finger food,” she announced. “Spicy beef strips and chopped salad.”

  “Okay, I’m a doctor,” Alex said. “I’ll cut the meat.”

  “I don’t cry, I’ll chop the onions.”

  That left me with the chilies. “I need spicing up anyway,” I said.

  They laughed.

  We arranged ourselves around the central work surface and started. The wine was good.

  “Hmm. Can I taste black olive? Cherry?” I said.

  If he’d been the type to roll his eyes, Alex would have, but I noticed he topped his glass up. And since my wolf and Athanate had opened new experiences in taste and smell, I was going to enjoy them, whatever anyone else thought.

  I was worried about Alex. Apart from teasing Jen, he’d mainly been quiet since we’d left LA.

  “Happy?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Well, you should be happier,” I grumbled. “You should be as happy as a dog with two tails.”

  Jen snickered, and even if he kept his grumpy face on, I was sure I saw the corners of Alex’s eyes squeeze a little.

  “Nulla cani iocis,” he said pompously, concentrating on slicing the fat from the meat.

  I looked at Jen for help.

  “The good doctor is showing off his Latin.” She put her knife down, took a nibble of onion and sauntered round the table. “No dog jokes, he says.” She walked behind him and her hands slipped around his waist. “So how do we do it doggy style, honey? Hmmm?” She pulled him against her. “Do we have to say wolfy style?”

  I choked on my wine.

  “Stop it. You’re embarrassing Amber,” he said. He was keeping his face straight, but I could see how much he was enjoying it.

  “Oh, I am, am I?” she murmured against his neck. “You know Amber goes pink for all sorts of reasons?”

  She tugged his shirt out of his jeans and her hands slipped sensuously over his belly, then trailed away till her fingers just scratched his skin, raising goosebumps.

  Then, having gotten a reaction out of him, she slunk around to my side of the table.

  “Don’t mess with me while I have a sharp knife in my hand,” I said, looking down at the peppers and chopping furiously. It was unfair to have my kin teasing me about my tendency to blush.

  “Hmm.” Jen yanked my shirt up without warning and slid her hands beneath. I bit down on a gasp. “See, Alex? Pink as a flamingo.”

  I leaned back into her embrace, dropping the knife and chili pepper, and turned my face towards her. Her lips met mine, full of wine, onion and promise.

  We broke the kiss and she nuzzled against my neck.

  “I think he enjoyed that,” she whispered.

  Alex was still trying to look serious, but I could see his jeans would definitely be feeling too tight. Jen had just put the lunch back by a good half hour, but she had also completely changed the mood.

  “This isn’t getting the onions chopped,” I said.

  “No,” she said, walking to the stove and flicking the main switch off. “What do you say we have a late lunch? Or maybe just dinner?” She grabbed her own shirt and in one languorous stretch lifted it up and off. She was so beautiful, my heart skipped a beat. Or three.

  She tossed the shirt over her shoulder and walked off, coyly glancing back.

  Alex growled and chased her, the steak forgotten.

  She ran. There was a delighted scream from the hall. More growls.

  I carefully washed my hands first; it wouldn’t do to rub chilies into anywhere sensitive. Then I followed slowly, collecting Alex’s discarded shirt and one shoe where he’d dropped them.

  The trail of clothing led me to the bedroom.

  They were stark naked and rolling on the bed.

  And yes, they were the most beautiful couple I’d ever seen.

  I expected a sting of jealousy. Nothing. Nothing but intense desire, so fierce I had to lock my legs to stop from collapsing.

  Jen took her hand off his butt, crooked a finger and beckoned me.

  I stayed on the other side of the room. My knees were about to fail and my fingers were trembling, but I refused to rush. I folded their clothes, ignoring the impatient growl from Alex.

  All in good time.

  My shirt that Jen had loosened came off. My bra. One boot. Then the other.

  I had their attention all right.

  Alex made to get up and ‘help’ me with my jeans, but Jen dragged him back. He was much stronger, of course, but a man can be downright amenable when a woman has that good a grip on that part of his body.

  Bright-eyed with desire, they watched as I shimmied out of the jeans.

  Then the thong that Jen had bought me. Slowly.

  It was very hard to slink over to the bed with the strength draining out of me and my knees threatening to knock.

  I had so little control over my limbs, I thought I might not manage the climb onto the bed. As it happened, Alex grabbed me and yanked me down between them.

  In a second, I was pinned in place with them on either side of me.

  Déjà vu.

  “Now, where were we?” Jen said. “Can you recall, honey?”

  That was Alex-honey.

  “We had this tease right here, like this,” he said.

  I had to clear my throat before growling. “You were practicing kissing badly.”

  “I think she’s saying we have to do better,” Jen said.

  They copied me—they didn’t hurry it. Eyes drank each other in. I could feel their hearts racing. Jen gave a little sigh just as their lips finally met.

  Nothing bad about that kiss now, not from either of them. Hungry, rough and tender all at the same time.

  It lit me up, seeing their desire, sharing it.

  I wasn’t forgotten.

  Jen first. Her lips were soft, bruised with passion. I could taste her. I could taste Alex. Their flavors coiled over our tongues. Their scents were like wildflowers tangled through the lattice of my marque. Our marque.

  Alex nipped at my neck impatiently, and when I gasped, breaking Jen’s kiss, he nuzzled her aside and took over, kissing me hard.

  Jen enjoyed watching us as much as I’d enjoyed watching them.

  I rolled him onto his back, pushed Jen on top of him and mounted up behind her, pressing against her back.

  This was a horse ranch, wasn’t it?

  No law against riding tandem. If your horse can take it.

  I ran my hands over both of them. The feel of their skin set me on fire all over again.

  Alex sat up and ran the tip of his tongue over one nipple, making Jen groan. I cupped the other breast in my hand, loving the perfect weight of it, the softnes
s, the hardness of the nipple under my finger.

  I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  I let her breast go, slid my hand between them, caressing her in slow circles, all down the swooping curve of her belly. Down.

  She groaned again, her body moving, trembling, offering herself, eager for the pleasure.

  But it was Alex I gripped. Felt the shock of it. The sheer, hard bulk of him. The heat. The pulse.

  Shock rippled through him as well. Through Jen. Back to me.

  A nudge. A press of my groin against her butt. Moved her until she was just right. Teasing her. Teasing both of them.

  For a long minute, I didn’t let go of him. Felt the pressure building in both of them. I was lightheaded with desire, savoring every tiny sensation, every moment. My heart hammered against Jen’s back and my vision swam.

  I let Alex go and pressed Jen down.

  We all cried out and my heart felt like it would burst with joy.

  Chapter 73

  I swam up out of the sort of deep sleep that comes from exhaustion.

  Fair enough.

  I ached pleasantly all over. All over.

  The night had been…unbelievable.

  Making love with three of us was kinda difficult; we’d had to learn as we went along. If we played it with any one of us in the middle, being teased and touched by the other two, it was all over for that one too quickly. And if my eukori sneaked out, sharing every sensation each of us felt, it became uncontrollably intense, and it was all over for all of us too quickly.

  We’d made that spicy beef dinner eventually, when hunger drove us out of the bedroom. Cooking had been slow and interrupted. And then Jen had insisted on rules for eating: One huge plate. In bed. Fingers only. No feeding yourself. No licking your own fingers clean.

  It’d been the slowest meal ever. And I’d been right: chili sauce on fingers smarts when you touch tender places.

  We couldn’t fit in the bathtub, so we’d showered. Like the meal, that had been a long drawn-out affair.

  So why am I awake now?

  A touch on my eukori. Nothing more than a feeling. Yelena.

  I started to weave my way reluctantly out of the knot of my kin’s arms and legs.

  “Mmmm?” Jen. The sort of hum that managed to say why am I awake at the same time as what should we try now.

  “Yelena’s coming.”

  “That’s sweet,” she said. “Julie? Or Keith? Or both?”

  I snickered.

  “No. As in walking in from outside.”

  Alex grumbled and one strong arm made to pull me back into bed.

  I twisted and slipped out. If I let myself be pulled back in, I might never get out.

  Flipping a bathrobe over me, I made it halfway down the corridor. Yelena loomed in the darkness, bulky in her cold-weather camo. She’d taken time to pull her boots off. I guessed it wasn’t that urgent.

  “You have time to get dressed, Boss,” she said before I could speak.

  “What is it?”

  “Call from Agent Ingram on a bad line. Inbound on a helicopter. Fifteen minutes.”

  “The storm?”

  “Died down. It’s clear now.”

  Fifteen minutes. A voice on a bad line.

  “Assessment?”

  Yelena shrugged. “With the three of us outside, anyone getting out of a helicopter onto that landing pad is in our kill zone. That would be stupid. If they come in and land, then it probably is Ingram. If the call was just to check if you were here…”

  So much for paranoia waiting till we got back to Denver.

  If it wasn’t Ingram, then someone knew too much about us and they’d be here quicker than fifteen minutes and all we’d see of them would be rockets.

  Alex was behind me, half dressed.

  “You and Jen, in outdoor clothes and armed, with Yelena,” I said.

  “You?”

  “There to greet him if it is Ingram, but not in the ranch house.”

  In ten minutes, we were all outside, hidden and wired up. The ranch’s lights were on.

  I didn’t know exactly where anyone else was. I was hiding underneath the landing area.

  In twelve minutes, I could hear the helicopter.

  “Single helicopter,” I muttered into the commset.

  I got no answer, but I wasn’t expecting one.

  The helicopter came in slowly, lit up with landing lights. This was not an air assault.

  Keith was at the front of the ranch. “No one here,” he said.

  So not a distraction either.

  Still, it was a relief when I recognized the figure that stepped down and began walking toward the ranch.

  “Agent Ingram,” I said, coming out of the shadows. He jumped.

  “Sorry,” I went on.

  “Wondered where you were, Ms. Farrell. And I knew it was a good idea to call ahead,” he said. “I don’t doubt I am lit up on someone’s IR scopes right now.”

  “You might be,” I admitted, and glanced over at the pilot still sitting at his controls. “You coming in?”

  “No. Can’t stay,” he said.

  He’d come a long way to say hello.

  “Okay. Let’s sit over there.” The shed I pointed at gave us seats and a windbreak. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than standing in the wind.

  “Yup.”

  He was stiff from sitting in the helicopter and it wouldn’t get any better here, but it was his choice.

  “You seem better rested than our last meeting, Ms. Farrell.”

  “I am.”

  “A good rest, then.” Agent Ingram’s voice was very quiet.

  “Yeah. Better than that. Much, much better. Unbelievable. I’m sorry, I guess you had a crap time of it.”

  “You could say. Good job on Forsythe. Good job on…everything.”

  He sighed and reached into his pocket.

  My nose twitched. Bourbon. He wasn’t drunk or anything, but Agent Ingram had been keeping himself warm on his flight.

  He took a swig from a battered old hip flask and passed it over.

  I sipped and coughed.

  “Single barrel, Wild Turkey Kentucky Spirit,” he said.

  “Ah! The one they call the Kickin’ Chick’n.”

  “The same.”

  A special occasion?

  He didn’t seem to know where to start whatever it was he wanted to start on, so I prompted him.

  “So tell me about your lousy time in Vegas and LA,” I said.

  “We’ve cleared all the properties in both cities. Everything. Bagged it all. Ranked some of it. Sorted some of it. All disappeared into Project Anthracite. LA wasn’t much, but you wouldn’t believe what we got from Vegas. Still sorting it. Got more of that…sickness to look forward to.”

  I frowned in the darkness. I could imagine what he was talking about.

  “You got people to do that, haven’t you? Crime scene specialists, like little Agent-lets?” I tried to lighten it up. “You know, like fairy dust. You sprinkle ’em on the scene and they do it all while you go nap. Keeps everything more at arm’s length.”

  “Yeah.” He sighed.

  “So?”

  “Politics.” There was a world of pissed-off in that word.

  “You mean someone—” I snapped my mouth closed. If there was someone powerful or famous involved, perpetrator or victim, he couldn’t tell me. “Sorry.”

  He grunted something noncommittal and leaned forward, hands on knees.

  “Y’know, I have been known to bend the rules here and there.”

  I made polite, disbelieving noises while crossing my toes.

  He didn’t seem to notice. He took another swig and passed the flask again.

  “But I ain’t ever tampered with evidence.”

  I was starting to worry. Agent Ingram wasn’t the kind of guy to get introspective about things.

  We passed the flask a couple more times. He was taking small swigs.

  I was starting to worry what the
bourbon was for. The obvious thing, the thing I was meant to believe, was to ease him into sleeping that night. Letting him forget the sickness he’d had to wade through.

  But what if it wasn’t?

  What if it was for me?

  If it was for me, why did he want me loosened up? Or anesthetized before he told me whatever it was he was going to eventually tell me?

  He clapped his hands on his knees, rubbed them together.

  “So,” he said, abruptly. “I pulled your evidence. Your tapes do not officially exist.”

  “Shit!” Ingram did that? For me? “I mean, thank you, Agent Ingram. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  “Don’t thank me.”

  “But you compromised yourself for me.”

  He didn’t answer directly. Instead, he stood and we walked slowly back toward the helicopter.

  That was it? He came all the way to tell me that?

  “Spoke to Mr. Altau earlier,” he said finally. “Long talk.”

  Skylur asked him to pull my tapes?

  “You did it because he asked? Or do you mean you did it for Emergence?”

  “I didn’t exactly do it for you, Ms. Farrell. Or for our plan, which I warn you will be our plan and may not be exactly your plan anymore.”

  He gave a grunt as if he was physically wrestling with the thoughts he was trying to explain.

  “I’m compromised. As soon as I spoke to you on the phone and gave you enough information to kidnap me in Denver, I was compromised. When I didn’t call my boss the moment I walked out of Haven, I was compromised. As soon as my boss doesn’t call his boss when he finds out what I did, he’ll be compromised. And we’ll all be compromised unless and until we reach the president and the president says we’re not compromised.” He snorted. “We can all hope.”

  The snow crunched under our feet.

  “Ain’t it the truth, you’re compromised one way and the next seems easier? Why shouldn’t I take that tape out of evidence? The whole case is hardly gonna hinge on one tape out of hundreds. But even that’s not the whole story.”

  We stopped and stood just outside the circle of the helicopter blades.

  “Interesting man, Mr. Altau. We talked about justice, which is what I aim to deliver. Damn cold comfort to all the women and children in that pile of evidence. Y’know, when I get to thinking like that, sometimes I have to ignore the big picture and make it about one person. A representative for the whole. A place holder to take the place of all the others I can’t really help with my justice.”