OnsetofDanger (4 page)

“The final group of Rom hosts is en route to the new site
now but some of the equipment couldn’t be delivered until tomorrow.”
Consolidating everything under one roof had been the only choice left to them
because of Eloise’s capture. Anything she knew, her captors would likely have
learned by now, so new precautions had been unavoidable. The consolidation
should make the operation more efficient, but one central location also
presented greater risks than the six small, isolated project sites they had
utilized before.

“Are you ready to depart as well?”

The crisp dismissal in her tone made him unfold and
straighten his arms. “I’m to oversee the new location?” He wanted to move to
Colorado about as much as he wanted to become celibate.

“I would trust this to no one else.” Behind her calm façade
her dark eyes smoldered. “You supervised the old project sites from afar. Now
that all of the test subjects will be in one location, I see no reason for you
not to be stationed nearby.”

Despite his best efforts at calm, his shoulders tensed and
his hands clenched. She was banishing him like an errant child, sending him to
the middle of nowhere so she could avoid his questions and frustrations. He
should accept her decision and walk away, rejoice in a life free from her
manipulation.

“What about Eloise?” They weren’t technically siblings.
Still, Eloise was the only sister he’d ever known.

Eloise’s disappearance had sent Tara into a fit of rage.
She’d vowed to make Strigo strain pay for their treachery and brutalized the
guards who had failed to prevent the abduction. But her spies within Strigo
strain reported that neither Prince Alexi nor his uncle, Edrick Yeager, had
been responsible for the abduction, which left Tara no reason to follow through
on her rash threats.

“What about her?” Tara muttered. “If she were truly the
victim of abduction, there would have been a ransom demand by now.”

“Meaning?” He tensed. Tara was always ruthless, but
abandoning Eloise seemed extreme. Tara had found Eloise when Eloise was still
an infant. Tara had reared the human child herself, providing for her every
need. When the time came for Eloise’s initiation, Tara had used her own blood
to imbue Eloise with Vladya symbionts. For all intents and purposes, Eloise was
Tara’s daughter.

“I don’t like the possibility any more than you do, but we
must be practical. There is a very real possibility that Eloise was directly
involved in the incident.”

He took two steps toward her before he realized what he was
doing. Did the old bitch really think Eloise was so deceitful? “What would she
gain by staging her own disappearance?”

Planting her hands flat on the desktop, Tara locked her
elbows and came up out of the chair. “Don’t question my conclusions. I have
explored every option and the only avenue that remains is her defection.”

“I don’t believe she’d betray you and neither should you.
We’re her family.”

Tara’s arms relaxed and she eased back into her seat. “I
don’t want to believe it, but what other explanation is there? Rom strain
doesn’t have the resources to pull off something so bold and I know for a fact
Strigo strain didn’t do it.”

“Isn’t it possible Alexi acted alone? He’s the crown prince
of Strigoia Prime. Surely he has resources that reach beyond his strain,
resources unknown to your contacts.”

“Alexi was busy rescuing his crew when Eloise was abducted.
Everyone I’ve questioned confirms that fact. Not even the crown prince of
Strigoia Prime can be in two places at once. Furthermore, my contacts assure me
that Edrick and Alexi were genuinely shocked when they learned that Eloise was
missing.”

“So we just give up?” His voice rose as his throat tightened
and his pulse throbbed in his temples. This was Eloise they were talking about!
Didn’t Tara give a damn about anyone but herself?

“I have not given up.” Her emotionless mask was firmly in
place again. “I will locate Eloise. One way or the other she will return to my
side.”

“And in the meantime we proceed as if she never existed?”

“Enough!” She shoved back her chair and came out from behind
her desk. Her fangs peeked out from between her lips and crimson sparks
flickered within her dark eyes. “You will do as you’re told and that ends it.
Property has been purchased a short distance from the prison. Dr. Cordell has
been informed that you are to have full access to the Rom females as well as
the medical staff. You will focus entirely on completing this project and leave
Eloise to me.”

He inclined his head, acknowledging her dictates. “May I
choose personnel to accompany me? I don’t want to be at the mercy of people I
don’t know.”

“Of course. Take whomever you like.” He turned toward the
door and she placed her hand on his upper arm, momentarily halting his
departure. “This is not a punishment, Garrett. I trust you above all others and
the Rom project is vitally important.”

With a deep breath and the utmost control he managed to
compose his expression. “I understand and I know you care about Eloise as much
as I do. Forgive my stubbornness.”

Her lips parted in a calculated smile that never managed to
reach her eyes. “You come by your stubbornness naturally. I can’t fault you for
a trait I share.”

“I’ll check in once I’m settled.” He shifted his arm away
from her hand before he added, “Please update me if there are any new
developments.”

“Of course.”

Rushing from the room before his false humility shattered,
he strode down the château’s main hall. The compound was located near
Vancouver, which kept Tara just outside Strigo territory as she continually
expanded her sphere of influence. Ultra-modern technology contrasted with
old-world décor, reflecting the complexities of the compound’s owner.

Though the château was luxurious and comfortable, Garrett
tried to convince himself he wouldn’t miss it as he strode toward the main
staircase at the front of the house. A husky female laugh drew his attention to
the game room as he reached the open archway. His steps faltered and he peered
into the large, open room. One of the human feeders sat on the edge of the pool
table, skirt bunched around her hips, long legs loosely wrapped around
Jackson’s waist. They were more or less dressed and the exchange appeared
playful, but things seldom remained playful when Jackson was involved. Females
found him irresistible, a trait that could be quite useful.

“Jackson,” Garrett called. “A word.”

Jackson’s dark head whipped around but he remained between
the feeder’s legs. “I’m a little busy right now.”

Garrett caught the human’s gaze and motioned her toward the
sofa. “Get undressed and lie down. We’ll be with you in a moment.”

“We?” Jackson’s brow arched as he ambled across the room.
“Maybe I’m not in the mood to share.”

“Your moods hold far less importance than they did a few
weeks ago. When’s the last time you shared Tara’s bed?” He lowered his voice so
the feeder couldn’t hear the exchange.

“Why? Would you prefer to have me in yours?”

Jackson was arrogant and used to his physical attributes
providing him with whatever he wanted. Garrett had no interest in the man
personally, but he understood the value of Jackson’s appeal. “I’m setting up a
headquarters closer to the new project site. If Tara is finished with you, as I
suspect, I thought you might be interested in a change of scenery and fresh
hunting grounds.”

A slow smile bowed Jackson’s lips and made his dark eyes
gleam. “I’m more than interested.” He suddenly appeared more serious than
Garrett had ever seen him. “It’s only a matter of time before Tara finds a new
favorite. I’d rather not wait around.”

“Then let’s enjoy one last taste of Canada.” He nodded
toward the naked feeder now sprawled on the sofa, watching them. “Once our
needs are met, my friend, we’re heading to Colorado.”

Trembling with fury and fear, Caresse watched Farren Doyle
cross the grassy clearing in front of the Levari safe house. The guards had
dragged her to the rough-hewn bench situated beneath a massive oak. One guard
watched her, weapon drawn, while the other returned to his position beside the
door. She had no idea why the Levari Brethren had chosen Farren as their
primary spokesman, but she was rapidly learning to hate him above all the
others.

Farren and Desmond had been alone in the cabin for at least
an hour and the silence had been more torturous than shouts and crashes would
have been. At least if they’d been screaming at each other she’d have had some
idea of what was transpiring inside.

She poured energy into her mental shields as Farren neared.
He spent so much time with the Brethren in complete control. Did anything of
the host remain?

Even on Strigoia Prime Levari strain had been separatists,
secretive and antisocial. But she’d never heard of symbionts that could control
their hosts. Perhaps there was something in human blood that incited these
bizarre behaviors. Earthbound Levari not only controlled their hosts, they
networked their minds into a communal consciousness. Worse, they could
instantaneously transfer energy from one host to another, making those they
used for confrontations incredibly strong and hard to kill. It was fascinating
and yet rather repulsive. Symbionts were meant to live in harmony with their
hosts, not take them over completely.

“Your mate has failed to see reason,” he stated in his
characteristic monotone. “It is now necessary to motivate him.”

Dread wrapped around her like a pissed-off constrictor,
making it hard to breathe. Farren had used her as motivation before. He’d
humiliated and threatened her as Desmond was forced to watch, but he’d stopped
before actually harming her. It was unlikely he’d show restraint a second time.

She should turn to mist and—leave Desmond at the mercy of
the Brethren? Never. There had to be a way to escape their control permanently.

Hadn’t she wanted a way to jolt Desmond’s Strigo symbionts
out of hibernation? Nothing would elicit a more violent response than harming
his mate. He was obsessively protective.

What other choice did she have?

The only thing she was sure of was that anything was better
than becoming a mind-slave to the Levari Brethren.

“Come.” Farren held out his hand.

She ignored the gesture but followed him toward the cabin.
Her guard fell in behind. Leaves crunched beneath her boots and her long, full
skirt billowed in the wind. She felt a ripple of energy as Farren directed the
guards but she couldn’t hear the exchange. Farren paused in front of the door
and disabled the energy barrier.

Farren pushed the door inward and Desmond turned sharply
toward them, anxiety etched into his pale features. “This has nothing to do
with Caresse.”

His tone was so filled with dread and frustration it took
all her strength not to run to him and wrap her arms around him. They had faced
so many challenges together, vanquished enemy after enemy side by side. They
could do this too. But she had to be brave and selfless.

The guards flanked the door, silently waiting for further
instructions. Farren stepped past her, shoulders squared, expression calm yet
stern. “You insisted on the opportunity to interrogate our Vladya captive. We
had more direct methods in mind for retrieving the information we need.”

“I don’t know how she escaped.” To his credit, Desmond held
his ground. “I told you everything I know. Her disappearance is not a
reflection on me. I did everything I said I would—”

“You failed.” Farren didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need
to. The simple statement returned the tormented look to Desmond’s eyes. “The
debate is over. Success is well rewarded within the Brethren, but harsh
consequences follow failure.”

Clasping his hands behind his back, Desmond raised his chin
and stared straight ahead. “I am prepared to answer for my failure.”

“Of course you are. Your military training and basic
breeding have enabled you to process pain as easily as breath.” Farren motioned
Caresse toward him. “We have something else in mind.”

“Leave her out of it!” One of the guards rushed across the
room and shoved Desmond against the wall. Desmond twisted and lunged, avoiding
the other man’s restraining hands as he yelled, “Don’t touch her! She has
nothing to do with any of this.”

“We disagree.” Farren’s voice remained even, yet the
calmness of it was almost mocking.

The guard drew his sidearm and shoved the muzzle under
Desmond’s chin. “We
will
shoot.” Amber light ignited in the soldier’s
eyes, announcing the Levari Brethren’s direct control of the man. “And what do
you think will happen to your lovely mate once you’re out of the picture?”

Desmond clenched and unclenched his fists, trembling, eyes
wild. “Don’t hurt her.”

“You were warned of the form our punishment would take,”
Farren reminded him. “Didn’t you believe we’d do it?”

With a feral growl, Desmond shoved and twisted, lost in
blind determination. The guard with the gun moved to Desmond’s side as the
other hurried to assist him. The second guard grabbed Desmond by the throat,
gradually tightening his fingers until Desmond slumped against the wall. Only
then did the guard ease the pressure and allow Desmond to draw breath again.

“Don’t let him pass out,” Farren advised. “We want him to
see everything that’s about to happen to his lovely mate.”

“I’ll find the Vladya bitch,” Desmond rasped. “Give me the
chance to make this right. There’s no reason to harm Caresse.”

Ignoring Desmond’s pleas, Farren turned to Caresse.
“Undress. Show us what he values above all things.”

She fought to keep her expression blank as she raised her
hands to the buttons on the front of her blouse. She wasn’t ashamed of her
body, far from it, but already the scene was taking on a life of its own. She’d
expected Farren to station the guards outside, not allow them to watch.

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t let it matter. Only something
with massive emotional impact would push Desmond beyond caution, beyond
rational thought, and allow his instincts to take over completely. She had to
become that catalyst.

Her hands trembled as she freed one button and moved on to
the next. She risked a glance into Desmond’s eyes and felt her heartbeat
falter. The pain and utter devastation reflected in his gaze nearly changed her
mind. This was cruel and twisted and…
necessary
. The only other choice
was surrender to the Brethren. And she would rather die than endure slavery
again.

She tugged off her boots and socks then slipped off her
blouse with casual indifference. If she remained completely robotic, Desmond
would believe she was under the control of the Brethren, oblivious to what was
happening to her body. But would that be enough to ignite the reaction she
needed? If Desmond’s Strigo side wasn’t unleashed, she was doing this for
nothing.

There was only one way to find out.

Reaching beneath her skirt, she pulled down her panties and
kicked them aside. The guards watched each move she made with wolfish
anticipation. She couldn’t think about them. They were irrelevant to her goal.
She unhooked her bra and let it slide down her arms before she wiggled out of
her skirt.

Suddenly Farren was at her back. One of his arms spanned her
narrow waist and pressed her against him. “We can take our time, pet. Give us a
moment to appreciate our good fortune.” He cupped one of her breasts and then
the other, teasing each nipple with the pad of his thumb. “Have you ever seen
such perfect breasts, boys? Soft and round, with just enough bounce to make
things interesting.” He lightly swatted her breasts, making them jiggle.

Heat and humiliation twisted through Caresse, the unwanted
ache even more upsetting than the shame. It had been decades since she’d been
objectified. She thought she’d left these cravings far behind. Farren caught
one of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger then twisted until she
cried out. Desmond jerked against his captors, his features contorted with
rage. Her nipple tingled and burned. Reality blended with memory, melding the
harsh stimulation into something insidious and arousing.

Desmond made a strangled sound as the guards reacted to his
renewed aggression. One nudged him with the gun while the other tightened his
fingers. Their actions weren’t enough to completely distract Caresse from
Farren. Already she could feel his erection pressing into her back.

“Your skin is so fair,” Farren murmured as he toyed with her
nipples, “yet it flushes so deeply. You’ll be a joy to flog. I can just imagine
ribbons of red weaving their way across all this soft ivory skin.”

An image formed within her mind, a taunting memory she
continually struggled to suppress. She was not that person anymore. She was
free from those dark desires, those mindless pleasures. Even so, the image
came, vivid and enticing. She stood chained between two thick wooden posts,
naked and aching, desperate for release. Her body was crisscrossed with lash
marks and three young hosts scraped her tender flesh with their distended
fangs. One raked the length of her neck, another created a clear trail from one
nipple to the other. And Desmond knelt before her, sliding his mouth up her
inner thigh.

No! She would not think about those years, could not afford
to confuse the past with the present. She’d been a blood-slave then. She’d had
no choice but to surrender to anything anyone wanted from her. This was
different. She was temporarily using her sexuality for a much greater gain. She
would not allow herself to be drawn back into that passive mindset where
nothing existed but physical sensation.

Farren eased her away then turned her to face him, but his
gaze was on Desmond. “We are feeling generous tonight, so we will let you
choose. Would you rather watch your mate suck this body’s cock or shall we fuck
her juicy cunt?”

An animalistic cry tore from Desmond and he went wild,
oblivious to the guard’s hold on his throat or the other guard’s pistol pressed
against his ribs. The guard holding Desmond’s throat moved behind him and
wrapped his other arm around Desmond’s torso, trapping his arms against his
sides. Why didn’t Desmond access his powers? Even without his Strigo abilities,
he could throw off these two with one assertive thought. Yet he stood there,
allowing himself to be restrained, allowing her to be humiliated.

Something was wrong. A chill dropped down her spine and
lodged deep in her belly. This wasn’t the Desmond she knew and loved. The
Brethren had done something to him, weakened him or… Dear gods, had they given
him the paralytic? She couldn’t explain the change. All she knew was it spelled
disaster for her.

Farren shrugged off his coat and tossed it over a nearby
chair as the guards worked together to quiet their captive. Though Desmond
still struggled and moved his head from side to side, his enraged cries turned
to helpless moans.

Caresse couldn’t look at him and didn’t dare access their
private link. This had to work. There was no alternative. There was so little
in life Desmond could call his, it had made him ruthlessly possessive. His
raging emotions would release his Strigo strength. He would fight for her, kill
without hesitation to protect the woman he loved.

Unless whatever the Brethren had done to him affected his
symbionts too.

“Last chance,” Farren warned. “If you don’t choose, we will
use her in any way we please.”

“I will kill you
slowly
for this.” He sounded broken,
hopeless. No, he just needed more time.

Farren grasped her upper arms and turned her sideways. He
turned sideways as well, offering Desmond the best view. “On your knees, whore.
I want to explore that soft red mouth.”

This would be easier for Desmond to bear as long as he
thought she was a mindless puppet. But she didn’t want Desmond to bear it. She
needed him infuriated and crazed with his need to protect her. So it served her
purpose better if she struggled, if she fought Farren every step of the way.

Still, she couldn’t bring herself to take the final step, to
abolish the illusion entirely. She was being a coward. Hiding within a
misconception that kept her partially removed from the shame.

“We’re waiting,” Farren snapped.

Not seeing any other choice, she folded her skirt and placed
it in front of Farren. Then she knelt on the slight cushion and slowly parted
her lips. This meant nothing, less than nothing. She was playing a part,
working toward freedom for her and Desmond. Nothing else mattered.

Farren quickly uncovered his cock and angled it toward her
face. “Lock your hands behind your head. We want nothing to distract us from
the feel of your mouth.”

She closed her eyes as he pushed between her lips, slowly
filling her mouth with hot, hard flesh. It was a serious mistake. In an instant
she was a blood-slave again, powerless, at the mercy of whoever wanted her. If
she failed to satisfy anyone who approached her, they were allowed to bleed her
dry. She was a lowly Levari slave and they were members of the esteemed
Felean
Marton
, the bravest, most highly trained warriors in all the royal
provinces. It was an honor to serve them, a privilege to welcome their cocks
and their fangs. The only reason for her existence was to pleasure any warrior
who desired her body and feed those who also hosted the Levari strain.

It was how she’d met Desmond. He’d been fascinated with her,
visited her regularly until the thought of other men touching her became
abhorrent to him.

Grabbing the back of her hair, Farren gave it a warning
yank. “Stay with us, bitch.”

Hate bubbled up within her, strengthening her resolve. She’d
fought the Brethren with everything she had and all she’d been able to do was
elude them. But her shields couldn’t hold forever. Eventually the Brethren
would find a way in and take control of her mind. She needed Desmond, needed
him now!