OnsetofDanger (16 page)

“And if I’m unable to defuse their need for blood?” he
asked, hoping the question would explain his suspiciously long pause. “I’m not
sure you understand how popular Alexi has become.”

“His popularity is precisely why this must be done. The
balance of power will never be restored as long as Alexi lives.”

She was right. Though Bronik was a Yeager, he was a younger
son just like Edrick. Bronik’s claim to the throne was even less direct than
Edrick’s, which made Bronik the perfect ally. But he must never suspect that
Edrick had anything to do with Alexi’s death. Once Alexi was removed, Edrick
would allow Bronik to wreak havoc on Tara while he restored order to their
traumatized strain.

He fought back a smile, refusing to tip his hand. “I don’t
like it, but I understand the plan.”

“And you agree to do your part?”

“I agree.”

The blonde raised her hands to the front of her dress and
began to release the buttons. “Then I’m a gift from Tara. I’ll do whatever you
want.”

A warm breeze brushed Eloise’s face as she stepped out onto
the balcony. It was easy to understand why Inatta had chosen Las Vegas for Rom
strain’s headquarters. Tangible energy radiated off the city. It felt vibrant,
almost alive, yet dark and edgy.

She stared out over the Strip, mesmerized by the lights and
shapes of the sprawling resorts. This was only a reprieve, a temporary fix. She
needed to form a new future for herself, one free of Vladya strain. Nomads were
tolerated by the established strains, begrudgingly at times, but they were
generally left alone as long as they followed territory rules.

Income was a must. She would have expenses for the first
time in her life. And she’d need to hunt for sustenance rather than enjoying
the chase. No more blood-slaves, no servant. She needed to be invisible, to
blend so well with humanity that no one would guess her true nature.

Or she could accept Bronik’s protection and become an
extension of Strigo strain.

She released an exasperated sigh and walked back into the
luxurious hotel suite. Was she really so cowardly that she would run for
shelter before she even tried to make it on her own?

Too anxious to sit, she wandered about the spacious living
area. This wasn’t a matter of courage. She’d always faced challenges head-on.
But she was a realist. Her training had all been paramilitary, weapons, recon,
interrogation, research. How did that skill set translate into civilian life?

The hairs on the back of her neck bristled and her restless
steps faltered. She was being watched, but was the surveillance remote or was
someone in the room with her?

She resumed her pacing as she meticulously scanned her
surroundings.

Someone knocked on the suite’s main door and Eloise released
her pent-up breath. She must have sensed the approaching visitor. Peering
through the peephole, she saw a uniformed man holding a large serving tray.

“I didn’t order room service,” she called through the locked
door.

“Courtesy of management.”

“Just leave it in the hall.”

He shifted the tray, steadying it with his free hand. “I
need your signature.”

She hesitated another moment then opened the door. “Set it
down anywhere.” She remained by the open door as he walked past her. Determined
not to be caught unaware, she scanned the stranger as he set the tray on a
nearby table. He was a host but his shields prevented her from determining
which strain he carried.

He took a small form out of his jacket pocket and placed it
on the table beside the tray. “Do you have a pen?”

Feeling paranoid, Eloise released the door and moved to the
writing desk against the far wall. She picked up a pen and turned around. The
stranger was right behind her, knife firmly grasped in one hand. She blocked
his first attempt, twisting sharply to avoid the blade.

He agilely tossed the knife into his other hand and sliced
from the opposite direction. She blocked with her arm and the point of the
knife caught her sleeve. She retaliated with a sharp jab to his ribs then
quickly scrambled out of reach. Attack and retreat. The strategy had kept her
alive through numerous missions. She saw no reason to change it now.

The assassin stalked toward her, murder gleaming in his dark
eyes. She backed up a step then suddenly kicked him in the stomach. He grunted
and stumbled but kept right on coming. She swung for his face but he caught her
wrist with his free hand and yanked her forward.

She used the momentum to throw him, jamming her shoulder
into his gut as she lifted with her legs. Pain seared her back and a cry tore
from her throat, but she didn’t lose focus. Her assailant slammed into the
floor, sprawling on his back. She ran for the door but his hand grasped her
ankle and yanked hard.

Her free foot lost purchase and she collided with the floor
on her hands and knees. The assassin lunged for her, knocking her sideways,
silent and utterly focused. She clawed his face and thrashed wildly but he
didn’t seem to notice. He drew back the knife and her stomach cramped as she
felt death rushing toward her.

A flash of light pulled her attention away from the
assassin’s cold eyes. Bronik appeared, catching the assassin’s arm before it
could descend. With one vicious twist, Bronik snapped the smaller man’s wrist
then jerked him away from Eloise. The assassin screamed, clutching his broken
arm against his chest. The knife fell to the floor forgotten as the assassin
rocked and moaned.

“You all right?” Bronik stood over her like an avenging
angel, gloriously savage.

“I’m fine.”

He accepted the statement with a stiff nod then grabbed the
assassin and flashed them both from the room.

Stunned and shaken, Eloise sat up and stubbornly fought back
tears. Tara had actually done it. Eloise wasn’t surprised by the ruthless act
but she hadn’t expected the betrayal to hurt this badly. Tara was the only
mother she’d ever known and now they were enemies.

She drew up her legs, folded her arms then lowered her head.
Pain pulsed in her back and she could smell blood. That’s right. The bastard
had stabbed her. She knew she should check the wound, see if her symbionts
could handle it or if she needed a healer. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t
think beyond the staggering isolation. She was no longer part of Vladya strain,
at least not while Tara Kovak was alive. She was alone, without a home,
without—

A warm hand touched her shoulder and she gasped. Bronik bent
to one knee beside her, his expression still murderous. “Are you sure you’re
all right? You’re white as a sheet.”

She was anything but all right, but her emotions were still
too tumultuous to express. “Where did you take him?” She wasn’t sure why she
cared. It just seemed like a logical question.

“I gave him to Kass.” He tried to pull her into his arms but
the slight pressure on her arm made the pain spike.

She gasped then pivoted away from him. “He sliced my back.
How bad is it?”

Bronik carefully pulled her shirt up so he could examine the
cut. “Let me see if I can help.”

She couldn’t see what he was doing, but tingling heat sank
into her flesh. The pain gradually mellowed and then dispersed. She rolled her
shoulder and tentatively stretched. “Much better.”

“Good.” He got to his feet and held out both hands. “Let’s
get you cleaned up.”

She couldn’t think of a valid reason to object, so she took
his hands and he pulled her to her feet. It didn’t seem to matter that she’d
been desperate to escape him less than an hour ago. A sudden calm settled over
her being. She felt as if she’d just survived emotional rapids and now she was
floating along on a peaceful stream. It was probably shock but she didn’t care.
Bronik was here. She was safe.

He led her into the bedroom and looked around. “Do you have
a spare shirt? The back of this one is covered in blood.”

As the shock receded questions inundated her mind, along
with unwanted emotions. “How did you find me so fast? How did you know I was in
trouble?” He reached for her blood-soaked shirt but she twisted away. This was
more important.

He crossed his arms over his chest but a lazy smile bowed
his lips. “I wouldn’t be much of a protector if I couldn’t sense when you’re in
danger.”

“The link?”

He nodded. “Strong emotions activate it automatically. I’ll
always know when you need me.”

Had he realized she ran away? Had he been searching for her?

Not yet ready to tackle those questions, she walked into the
bathroom and peeled off the blood-soaked shirt. Her back was still tender when
she moved her arm but the long gash was barely visible. Bronik lounged in the
doorway, silently watching her. Their gazes met in the mirror and held.

She wasn’t wearing a bra but his gaze remained on her face,
so she didn’t feel self-conscious. “I ran. Doesn’t that violate the conditions
of our agreement?” She snatched a washcloth off the stack between the double
sinks and turned on the water.

He was beside her in an instant and took the washcloth from
her trembling hands. “The vow is sacred. It will take a lot more than a moment
of panic to get rid of me.” He wet the cloth then shut off the water as he
turned his attention to her back. With slow, gentle swipes he cleaned her skin
and soothed her frayed nerves.

She rested her hands on the countertop, lightly bracing as
he worked. There had been an element of fear in her actions. She’d been
terrified by how much she wanted him. But it had been more than fear that made
her run away. She wanted to prove to herself that she could survive on her own.
She needed to feel capable, useful.

He finished with her back and tossed the washcloth into the
other sink. She crossed her arms over her chest as she turned around. “My life
has to mean more than giving you pleasure. I won’t be your whore.”

His hand wrapped around the back of her neck and he tilted
her face up with his thumb. “I never thought of you that way, not even for a
moment.”

Heat curled through her, making her nipples tingle and her
core ache. All he had to do was walk into a room and her senses came alive. It
gave him power over her. It was dangerous.

“What are your plans?” His voice was calm and patient. “Why
Las Vegas?” He slid his hand from the nape of her neck to her upper arm, his
fingers warm against her skin.

“I don’t have plans yet. I was just hoping to disappear long
enough to make some.” His casual touch was making her restless. She twisted out
from under his hand and slipped past him. She rushed through the bedroom and
out into the living room.

He chuckled and followed at a leisurely pace. “Here.” He
pulled off his shirt and handed it to her. “You still look spooked and you
don’t need to be. You’re safe. I’ll make sure of it.”

She donned the shirt but wasn’t sure having him half-naked
was any better. All that well-toned flesh made her want to squeeze—and lick. If
she stood here staring at him, they’d end up in bed, or on the living room
floor, or bent over the couch, or… She needed a distraction!

“If you honestly need a purpose, we can use your help with
our investigation.” He strolled to the sofa and sat, casually resting one
booted foot on his opposite knee. He looked too damn comfortable, too
self-assured. But then he had just proved himself a worthy protector. While
she’d acted like a frightened child, racing into the night without a concrete
plan or even a pair of shoes. Well, she wouldn’t dwell on her myopic race into
the unknown. She still intended to have a life apart from the control of
others. She would just have to secure her happiness one step at a time.

“I’ve told you all I know about the Rom captives.” She moved
up behind one of the high-backed chairs and rested her forearms on top.

His foot bobbed as if keeping time with a beat only he could
hear. “Have you shared blood with Tara or Garrett? They doubtlessly know more
about the situation than you do.”

She shook her head and dragged her gaze away from his
handsome face. “There are very few in Vladya strain who can read blood. I’m not
one of them.”

He extended his arm along the back of the sofa and she
couldn’t help picturing herself snuggled beneath that arm, pressed tightly
against his side. She’d tried so hard to escape him, so why did she find his
presence comforting?

His mouth curved up at the corners. Had he guessed the
direction of her thoughts?

“Have you ever tried to see through their eyes?”

Again she shook her head. “Tara’s shields are much too
strong and I have no desire to know what Garrett is doing most of the time.
He’s not a nice person.”

“Maybe not, but he’s in charge of the Rom captives. If we
could slip into his mind and—”

“I don’t have that much control. He’d sense me long before I
made it through his shields.”

“That’s why I said ‘we’.” He patted the seat next to him.
“Come here.”

If she followed his lead, allowed him to take control of the
situation, where did that leave her bid for freedom? She didn’t want to be
defined by her relationship with Bronik. She had to live life on her own terms.

“What’s the matter?” He lowered his arm and frustration
crept into his tone.

“What are we doing?” She crossed her arms over her chest,
not wanting him to realize how close she was to tears. “I can’t sit down and
pretend nothing’s wrong. My mother just tried to kill me! I don’t even know who
I am anymore.”

“That’s understandable.” He uncrossed his legs and leaned
forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “We’ll talk it out, but come sit
down. You look like you’re about ready to dive off the balcony.”

If there had been an autocratic bite to his tone, she would
have refused. Instead, he just sounded weary and that was a feeling she
understood. She crossed the room and sat on the sofa, keeping as much distance
between them as possible.

“I didn’t think she’d do it,” she whispered. “My mind
understood the danger. That’s why I agreed to your bargain. But in my heart of
hearts, I didn’t believe my mother would try to kill me.”

She expected him to point out that Tara wasn’t really her
mother. Instead, he scooted closer and said, “I’m sorry. I can only imagine how
upsetting this must be.” When she only nodded, he reached over and took her
hand. “Your future has been rewritten by events you had no control over. That
must be incredibly frustrating.”

Nodding again, she took a deep breath and waited for the
tightness in her throat to ease so she could speak. “If the Levari hadn’t
kidnapped me, you wouldn’t have rescued me and—”

“I would have found you, baby doll.” His hand gently
squeezed hers and desire sparked within his eyes. “We had unfinished business
and it had nothing to do with the Levari.”

Rather than take exception to his semi-threatening words,
she accepted the truth in his statement. Their attraction had flared to life
before the Levari screwed with her symbionts. An affair had seemed inevitable
the first time they touched.