Licensed To Thrill

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Licensed To Thrill Page 17

by Gemma Brocato


  But I couldn’t do it. I had the human race to save. Besides, I’d be bored inside of ten minutes.

  Behind me, Lucien stretched and rolled closer, slinging his arm over my waist. His soft breath teased my nape, and his easy yawn rasped my ear.

  “Morning, love,” he murmured.

  “Morning, you.”

  “Do you want the shower first?”

  “I will. Be a sweetheart and order the blackest coffee room service offers.”

  “What? Not tea?”

  Reluctantly, I pushed down the blankets. Cool air caressed my now exposed skin. “I have a feeling today is going to be arduous. Nothing but coffee will do.”

  Lucien’s chuckle followed me into the bathroom. “Arduous. Now that’s a million-pound word if I’ve ever heard one. And I’ve been around a long time.”

  I was chuckling as I stepped into the bathroom. I flipped the shower spigot to hell-fire temperature.

  Hot water cascaded down my skin as I soaped up and mentally prepared for the day. Penn had texted last night about flight times. He’d arranged a private flight from Pulkovo to Pitcairn. The high-tech Gulfstream was the fastest option for our transpacific journey.

  Once back on Pitcairn, the plane would refuel, and we’d make the final leg of the trip. We’d parachute in scuba gear about one nautical mile from Rapa Nui. Our goal was the effluent pipe where we’d sneak into the facility, set our charges, and sneak back out. With any luck, we’d manage this completely undetected.

  I massaged my shoulder. Luck hadn’t been on our side yesterday. While Lucien and I ate last night, we’d watched the television. There’d been no news story about the sudden explosion at an abandoned asylum. No media outcry for the investigation of who owned the building and why better care wasn’t taken to prevent its demolition. Not a single mention of a dozen dead men, found riddled with bullets.

  The highlight of the news was that there wasn’t anything about the Pavlovsk seed vault. The fact had to go into the win column.

  My shoulder continued to ache. It should have been healed by now, but I surmised I still wasn’t over recovered from Viktor’s toxin in the Barrier. I rubbed the area in the steamy confines behind the shower curtain. I couldn’t wrap my brain around why I cared so much for humans when they cared so little for themselves. I bent my head back and let the stinging hot shower flow over my torso. Maybe my vamp co-workers had it right; I could release my grip on my humanity. Imagine how far I could go in the agency if I became a cold-hearted operative. It was possible I might even make Director at some point.

  I tried to imagine my life as an administrator. I wasn’t going to be young forever. In another couple hundred years, I wouldn’t be fit for the physical demands of my job. But there was the danger I’d be bored out of my skull as a desk jockey. I’d miss fieldwork if that happened. For damn sure, I’d miss blowing shit up.

  The conclusion from my musings was that I should continue to fight for my humanity and for everyone else’s.

  With a slight smile on my face, I dried my hair then dressed in jeans and a skin-tight thermal shirt. Vamps weren’t typically affected by cold, but I still preferred to look the part. Besides, I loved the shearling jacket I’d brought with me. It was just big enough it didn’t bind when I wore my weapon under it.

  I snapped together the catches of my holster as I walked back into the parlor of our suite. Bax had apparently arrived at the same time as the room service cart. He looked very comfortable dressed in jeans, a black T-shirt, and a plaid shirt layered over it with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I mused for a second about whether he would have read in the private details in my personnel how much I loved that look.

  He gave me a smug smile as he reclined in a barrel chair and sipped coffee.

  “Morning,” he greeted me, lifting his cup in salute.

  “Tamsyn.”

  Lucien skated past me, running his fingers along my waist. “My turn. I’ll be out in five. Save me a slice of toast and a bit of the porridge, won’t you?”

  I smiled sweetly at him. For a demon, he had simple tastes. Last night, he’d ordered grilled cheese and tomato soup to my steak and potatoes.

  “Time for your injection, Jayne. You missed one yesterday. We can’t have you relapsing.” He dragged a small black leather pouch out of his briefcase.

  The zipper sang in the quiet of the room. Stifling a heavy sigh, I gave him my back and lowered my jeans enough to create a target for the jab. After a lengthy pause, when I could hear him breathing but not moving, I cast a glance over my shoulder.

  He was just staring at my bum, fingers hovering just above my flesh.

  “See something you like, Tamsyn?”

  He jerked his fingers back and lifted his guilty gaze to mine. “Sorry.”

  I shrugged. “You’re a man. It’s natural to stare at a woman’s behind.”

  “I was examining your bruises to determine where to stick you.”

  “Uh-huh.” A likely story.

  “Serious, Solo. I’m more of a leg-man. Besides, I like big butts. Yours is dismally tiny.”

  I laughed right up until the needle pierced my muscle. “Ow. Watch it, Bax.”

  A cool swab of the alcohol wipe kissed my skin then Tamsyn tapped me on the rump. “All done.”

  “Thanks.” I righted my clothing then strode to the room service cart.

  I fixed myself a cup of coffee in a fine porcelain cup, then prowled around the room, too keyed up to sit. We were mission critical. No time for pleasantries or to mess the assignment up. This point in any operation turned my nerves into a jumbled mess. And in this one in particular, too much was at stake, all human kind and my own humanity.

  Bax’s eyes tracked my anxious pacing. “Jayne, you’re making me nervous.”

  When I faced him, he was suddenly absorbed by something on his phone. He couldn’t be too nervous. He wasn’t even truly paying attention to me. Who the hell was he talking to all the time?

  “Deal with it, Tamsyn.”

  I refilled my coffee, even though I didn’t really need any more caffeine. I needed something to do, and my stomach was too sour to attempt any food.

  The guppy sighed audibly. In the bathroom, the water turned off.

  I stalked to the window and cranked it open. A cold, crisp breeze fluttered the sheer treatment behind the blackout curtains. I stood in the draft, closed my eyes, and concentrated on absorbing all the energy I could steal from the air. My body reacted as expected. Tingling started in my lungs then swept along every nerve ending in my system. The energy came in waves, matching my inhalations and exhalations. Powerful warmth swelled with each breath I took. When I’d first learned how to draw elemental sustenance, I couldn’t control my intake. As a result, I ended with a feeling akin to gorging on a weekend fry-up. I’d feel bloated. My makers had been sanguine vampires only and never thought to teach me how to master the manner in which I fed. I guessed they’d never seen a vampire like me. Or maybe they had, but preferred to feed on humans. I suppressed a shudder. I’d never enjoyed a blood feed.

  After a solid minute of ignoring Bax in favor of drawing in energy, I felt alive and fully charged. Nerves were still present, but the sensation had changed to one of anticipation. We’d fly across the Pacific Ocean and complete our assignment. And I’d stand over Viktor’s cold, dead corpse, taking comfort in the fact he wouldn’t be able to hurt another human. Or me.

  “Are you nearly ready, love?” Lucien asked, warmth present in his midnight-colored eyes.

  Droplets of water sparkled in his dark hair. He swept his fingertips down my spine.

  I’d known the handsome demon forever, worked with him almost as often as I’d slept with him, and yet this light graze never ceased to send shards of peace through me. His touch was comfortable and homey, a caress I craved as much as water or air.

  And he knew the calm he lent me as well as he knew my emotional state on a mission. If I was capable of loving another being, I guess you could say I lov
ed him for his understanding.

  I nodded. “Affirmative.” My tone was gruff as I tried to squash the tender feelings.

  I couldn’t let emotions get in the way of my mission.

  Lucien pressed a key fob into my hand. “The car was delivered with room service. It’s parked right outside. You’re driving. Duet, grab Jayne’s case, please.”

  Bax stuck out a pouty lower lip. “She can wrangle her own luggage.”

  The deep and feral snarl Lucien emitted would have frozen most people. “Do you recall she dislocated her shoulder last night? She should be in a sling, not schlepping heavy suitcases.”

  “She’s a fucking vampire. She heals quickly.”

  In the blink of an eye, Lucien was across the room, had Baxter by the throat, and pinned against the wall. “I can have you removed from this mission, Tamsyn. From life, for that matter. And I can be as creative as Viktor in devising your demise. Show some respect,” he growled.

  Baxter’s complexion was turning bright red as the fist Lucien clenched around his pencil neck cut off his oxygen supply.

  I interceded on Tamsyn’s behalf. “It’s alright, Lucien. He’s right. I’m healed enough to carry my own weight.”

  Bax was now a dusky blue color. I laid my palm on the demon’s forearm, feeling the powerful muscles shift and tense. We couldn’t let the mission unravel due to personality clashes. There was too much at stake for all of us.

  With a little pressure and a hint of a glamour, I forced Lucien to release his grip.

  Baxter gasped, sucking in a huge breath.

  Lucien growled again as he backed away. “My apologies, Jayne. I guess your case of nerves is contagious.”

  “You don’t owe me an apology. But you do owe one to Baxter.”

  Belligerence crossed Lucien’s countenance, lingering in the glint of his eyes.

  “Oh, come now, Lucien,” I chuckled. “You’re acting like a spotty teenager told by his mother to stop wanking off or you’ll go blind.”

  “Am not,” came the petulant reply. A deep sigh followed. “Sorry, Duet.”

  “Shall we go?” I stepped away from the pair. I sat to tug on my thigh-high black boots with the do me heels. Paired with my longish fleece-lined jacket, I looked like any other Russian women—hot, badass, and confident. Pair that with the Walther showing under the shearling coat, I also looked deadly as fuck.

  I seized the handle on my case, shouldered the Gucci handbag that went with me everywhere, and strolled to the door. Behind me, feet shuffled and men grumbled, but not to me.

  In silence, we rode the lift to the ground floor, crossed the opulent lobby, and exited to the porte-cochere. A uniformed valet took my case and swept his arm, motioning me to move ahead.

  A silver Audi SUV was parked in a prime spot, and I led the way to it. I clicked open the lock with the fob and opened the door. A rich, decadent new car scent wafted out, satisfying and scintillating.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a couple familiar faces. Pete and Re-Pete, who I’d last seen on Pitcairn, were parked in a hulking black sedan about a half block away.

  “Lucien,” I said with a subtle nod their direction.

  He swept a nonchalant gaze around, dancing over the goons before swinging back to me. “Someone is taking Viktor’s bounty on your head seriously.”

  “It is rather a long way to come just to try to kill me.”

  “You’re a prize no one wants to lose.” Lucien stowed his case in the back of the Audi.

  “It appears Viktor knows we aren’t dead,” Bax commented.

  “So it does.” I shrugged.

  Over the roof of the car, Lucien smiled warmly at me. His expression said he didn’t want to lose me either.

  I slid in behind the wheel and buckled up.

  With a bit of manly posturing, Lucien jostled Bax out of the way and climbed into the front passenger seat. Bax settled in the rear, a frown drawing his dark blond brows together. He looked pissed, but I couldn’t spare time to placate anyone.

  I reached into my bag and located the GPS device Drax had provided. The thin titanium cover was cool as I flipped it in my hands to locate the on-off switch. I fixed it on the dash just as the display leapt to life on the windscreen. I waited for the connection to VIS to enable. A flashing red message at the bottom instructed me to try again.

  “I don’t suppose it came with a manual?” Lucien quipped.

  “Why the bloody hell won’t it connect?”

  “Maybe you need a cellular signal.” That smug suggestion came from the back seat.

  “My phone is buried in my case in the trunk. Lucien?”

  “Sorry, lost my phone in the race away from the asylum last night.”

  Oh, right. “Bax, do you have a signal?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, give it here.” I held my hand up over my shoulder.

  Bax dropped his phone onto my palm. I set the device on the dash next to the GPS disc. While we waited for the two to pair, I keyed the ignition. The engine growled. There was real power in this vehicle. I checked the rearview mirror as I accelerated away from the curb. As I expected, our tail fell in behind us.

  The message at the bottom of the screen blinked green, and an instant later a voice filled the cabin.

  “Good morning, Bond. Greyson here.” The voice came over the Audi’s speakers. “How may I help you today?”

  “I need the fastest route from my location to Pulkovo airport. Also, I have a tail, so we may need turn-by-turn assistance to lose them.”

  “Calculating—one moment.”

  I turned right and merged with traffic while we waited for instructions. The bottom of the screen flashed again as a text message from someone named Samuel Harding came over Bax’s phone, a name I recognized, but couldn’t place immediately. Bax leaned forward between the seats and reached for the phone.

  “Leave it, Bax. I think our safe getaway is more important than a text message.”

  The speakers crackled to life. “We have your route, Solo. Proceed north one kilometer and your guidance will begin.”

  I goosed the gas a little, and the car responded immediately, smoothly picking up speed. The roads were busy, but not packed with traffic, so we had that in our favor.

  Greyson provided the next instruction, “Take a left on Marshala Govorova.”

  I complied and found we’d entered the central business district. Behind us, our chaser closed the distance. They really needed to learn the subtle art of tailing someone. I flicked my gaze to the road, then back to the mirror.

  “What is it, Jayne?” Lucien twisted in his seat and glanced backward.

  Bax followed suit.

  “Our friends from Pitcairn are sticking quite close to us.”

  “Damn. How did they find us?”

  “Oh, Baxter. We blew up their lab last evening. I imagine locating us was quite simple. They had time to hop a plane and hightail it here.”

  If they hadn’t already been en route courtesy of a tip from a smarmy insider mole at VIS headquarters. The thought gave me pause. Had some trusted employee in London betrayed us?

  Tamsyn faced forward again. “Can you lose them?”

  “I live to use my evasive maneuvering skills. Lucien, you’re on cross street lookout. Don’t want to do anything to get Bax killed.” Lucien and I could survive a car accident, him being a demon and me already dead. But human Bax could get injured.

  Much to my chagrin, I found I’d grown attached of my mentee.

  “Got it.” Lucien leaned forward, his gaze shifting from left to right as we drove along.

  I checked my speedometer. As long as they remained a few car lengths behind us and didn’t try to close the distance, there was no reason to exceed the speed limit. But I had to wonder why they weren’t right on our bumper.

  In the rearview mirror I saw the trailing car had finally narrowed the space between us. My gut clenched.

  “Red light ahead,” Lucien called out. “Intersection lo
oks clear.”

  I slowed, as if I planned to stop. The goon squad in the following car did likewise. There were three cars stopped in front of me. At the last second I stomped on the gas and veered around them. I barreled through the crosswalk and swerved to avoid an approaching rubbish truck. The scream of locked brakes bit my eardrums. I cranked the wheel to the right and dropped back into the regular traffic pattern.

  The stopping truck allowed the sedan behind us to chase us through.

  “They’re gaining on us,” Bax shouted, his voice tinted with panic.

  He didn’t warn me soon enough, though. The sedan’s grill disappeared in the rearview mirror as they rammed us from behind. My head jolted forward, but then I snapped back, caught by the safety belt. Balls…that hurt. My neck was still tender from the explosion, and being hit from behind just exacerbated the injury.

  “Now, I’m pissed!” I floored the accelerator and leapt away from them. “Greyson—are you still with me?”

  “Yes, Solo. We have you traveling north on Govorova. Veer right onto Shkapina, ahead three hundred meters. We’re looking for an exit for you.”

  I followed directions, tires screeching as I fled the pursuers as if they were bats out of hell. Baxter braced his right arm on the door, trying to stay upright in the rear seat.

  “Jayne, watch out for the woman in the crosswalk,” Lucien shouted.

  I saw her and the buggy she pushed in front of her and cranked the steering wheel to the right, leaping over the curb. I traveled on the sidewalk for twenty meters, taking out a farm stand and a rack of colorful caftans. Behind me, the goons opted to veer left and barely scraped past a delivery service truck.

  “Head east at the next right, Obvodniy Channel. You’ve got a smooth shot along the embankment for three miles,” Greyson instructed.

  I bumped back off the sidewalk and sped up. “Hang on!”

  The Audi lurched up on two wheels as I careened around the corner. The recreational channel that connected one bend in the River Neva to another flew by, but I couldn’t shake our company. Thankfully, the engine in the Audi was more powerful than the Mercedes sedan they were in, and I was slowly outdistancing them.

 

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