OnsetofDanger (9 page)

“Meaning as soon as I refuse you any pleasure, you’ll slap
me back in chains?”

He raked his hair with his hand, growing impatient with her
objections. “If I don’t form this bond you will die. A healer might not be
around to infuse your levels next time.”

Her gaze sharpened and she tilted her head. “What healer? I
thought you infused me before.”

“All I did was flash you to people who were able to help. If
we’d stayed at the hunting lodge you would be dead.”

“Where are we now?” Her brow arched in silent challenge.
“Upstate New York?”

“This place is called the gatehouse. That’s all a prisoner
needs to know. My bound companion, on the other hand, would be free to move
about and explore.”

“And you would be able to feed me without the assistance of
others?”

He nodded. “The bond will allow me to pass energy directly
to you.”

“And all it will cost me is my dignity, my pride?”

He should be insulted by her reticence. Any woman on
Strigoia Prime would have been thrilled by his offer. He was a member of the royal
family, nephew to the king. Eloise wasn’t even pureblood, she was an initiated
human. But this wasn’t Strigoia Prime, and Eloise was in danger so long as her
symbionts slumbered.

Still, he had pride too. He would not beg her to accept
something she should consider an honor. “Your pride in exchange for your life?
Sounds like a fair exchange to me.”

She wrapped her arms around her knees, eyes wide and
luminous. “I have only your word on all of this. How do I know this bargain is
necessary? You could be able to pass me energy at any time for all I know. Why
should I trust you?”

“Because I saved your life—twice.”

“You took me from the Levari because you believe I have
information you want and you’re keeping me alive for the same reason.”

He crawled off the bed, unable to remain close without
touching her again. “That’s why Prince Alexi wants you alive. My interest is
different, I assure you.”

She just stared at him, delicate features tense yet
expressionless.

It would be so easy to grab her ankles and pull her legs
away from her chest. He’d drag her ass to the edge of the bed and drape her
legs over his arms then drive his aching cock deep into her sopping cunt. She
was so aroused, so ready, he could still smell her musk, taste it on his
tongue. But she saw him as her enemy.

He
was
her enemy. Why was he letting desire confuse
the issue? This was not a courtship, it was an interrogation.

“Are you finished with me for now?” Her tone was brittle,
eyes cold. “I’d like to take a shower.”

The inference that he’d made her feel dirty irritated him.
He’d just crawled off the bed without fucking her, even though her body
literally belonged to him now. Why was she provoking him? He snatched his shirt
up off the floor and tossed it to her. “I’ll let you speak with the healer. She
has no reason to lie.” Before she could argue with his decision he flashed from
the room.

* * * * *

Rage pounded through Desmond, filling him with lethal
purpose and ruthless determination. He had spent the past nine hours gorging on
blood, saturating his symbionts with savage emotions and raw energy. This
confrontation had been brewing since he set foot on Earth.

He’d fled Strigoia Prime with the hope of freedom and a life
free of prejudice and conflict. Instead the Levari Brethren had taken control
of his body and forced him to lead a mutiny. Their rash actions had cost the
lives of innocent hosts and the destruction of a priceless spaceship. Desmond
had barely survived the crash. It had left him weak and depleted, unable to
resist their manipulation. But no more. Caresse, his brave, selfless mate, had
showed him the way to vanquish their enemies. He would bow to their will no
longer.

Not long after he left the cabin he’d realized he could mask
the tracker’s signal as long as he remained incorporeal. However, the instant
he took form the signal flared beyond his control, so he would only have one
chance to take his enemies unaware.

Focused entirely on his purpose, he forced his way back into
the cabin through a minuscule crack in the wall. The cabin reeked of sex and
blood. One guard stood by the door, eyes blurry, lids drooping as he swayed
back and forth, barely remaining on his feet. The other sprawled in a chair
wearing only his half-fastened pants. Farren lay naked on the bed, arm draped
over his eyes. All three men were dead. They just didn’t know it yet.

Caresse was curled up on her side, her dark hair tangled
about her face and shoulders. She’d drawn her knees up toward her chest as if
to make herself as small a target as possible. He could not stop to soothe her,
could not allow tender emotions to cool the blinding anger burning inside him.
The time for comfort would come, but first there must be a reckoning.

Meticulously shielding the connection, Desmond sank into
Caresse’s mind. Her eye flew open and she started to say his name but he
silenced her with a thought.
We don’t have much time, my love
.
Open
to me. Show me everything they did to you. Hold nothing back.

She shook her head and the torment in her blue gaze was
nearly his undoing. How could he cause her more pain after all she’d endured
already?

Your strategy was sound. It only failed because I was
drugged.
It was as much a reminder to him as an encouragement to her.
We
must awaken my Strigo symbionts. It’s our only hope.

Her lips quivered and she closed her eyes but her mental
shields slowly lowered, allowing him access to her memories. He siphoned off
every emotion, every sensation, using her sacrifice to fuel his fury. These
bastards had tormented her with pleasure, eroded her defenses until she
surrendered to the natural carnality of her own nature. He watched every act,
felt every penetration and channeled the hatred directly to his symbionts.

Strength swelled within him, hate so possessive and raw it
momentarily robbed him of breath. He saw her face, heard her inward screams as
they forced responses from her trembling body. Her shame intensified the heat
until he felt his blood sizzle. His body gradually solidified as he focused on
his wrist. With painstaking control, he forced the locator band to materialize
while his arm remained incorporeal. The band slipped free and dropped to the
floor, freeing him for action.

He flew across the room and tore out the first guard’s
throat without giving him the opportunity to scream. Blood gushed from the
gaping wound and the guard’s eyes rolled back in his head as his body crumpled
to the floor at Desmond’s feet.

Desmond didn’t pause. He turned and launched himself at the
second guard, who was standing by the time Desmond reached him. The guard swung
wildly but Desmond extended his claws and thrust his hand in under the guard’s
ribs. With one forceful clench, he crushed the guard’s heart then casually
withdrew his hand. It all happened in a matter of seconds. Ruthless,
focused—two down, one to go.

Turning toward the bed, he prepared to obliterate the final
obstacle, but Caresse had emerged from her stupor. She straddled Farren’s body,
both her hands grasping his throat. Her fingernails were extended, ten
miniature daggers buried deep in his flesh. Rage contorted her delicate
features, making her appear demonic. Farren whimpered, eyes round with fear and
disbelief. He grasped her forearms but had apparently realized she could sever
his head with one twist of her slender wrists.

“Don’t kill him,” Desmond insisted. “Not yet.”

“Why?” She didn’t shift her focus but her hands remained
still.

“We need to know everything they know if we hope to stay
ahead of them.”

Without releasing Farren’s throat, she looked at Desmond.
Green light gleamed off her pale face, but it took Desmond a moment to realize
the color was a reflection of his burning gaze.
Strigo
fire. He’d done
it. No, they had done it. This was Caresse’s idea. Her sacrifice had made it
possible for him to accomplish this goal. His Strigo symbionts had broken free
from their chemical stasis. They’d devoured many of his Levari symbionts in
their ravenous bid for freedom, but he’d never felt stronger, more alive. Power
pulsed, exhilarating yet not intoxicating as Levari energy could be. His
thinking had never been so concise or his confidence so absolute.

He approached the bed with lethal intent. After all the
indignities Farren had forced upon Caresse, it was only right that he suffer
greatly before he was allowed to die.

Caresse didn’t move so Desmond joined her on the bed,
kneeling at Farren’s side. Desmond commanded his Strigo symbionts to protect
him, to isolate him from the Levari Brethren. The cabin was shielded, so he
didn’t think Farren was in contact with the others, but he wouldn’t know for
sure until he touched Farren’s mind.

Power cascaded through Desmond, the sensation new and a bit
overwhelming. He accepted the tingling rush, the excess energy making him
jittery. Caresse withdrew her claws and jerked Farren’s head to the side,
positioning his throat for her mate.

With savage pleasure, Desmond bit into Farren’s neck and
drank deeply of his energy-infused blood. Desmond’s Levari symbionts vibrated,
excited by the fresh wave of Levari energy. But his Strigo symbionts sent a
forceful pulse through his body, driving the Levari back, forcing them into
submission.

With his fangs still buried in Farren’s throat, Desmond
flowed into Farren’s mind. As Desmond had thought, the shields that concealed
their location from the other strains also made it impossible to network with
the Levari. Farren was on his own.

Desmond absorbed images and information, drinking in every
detail as if it were warm, rich blood. Scenes sped through his mind like
high-speed video files. Random, scattered, there seemed to be no rhyme or
reason to the information. He didn’t attempt to make sense out of what he saw.
He drew it inward and locked each segment in place. He’d sort through the
fragments later, unravel the mysteries.

Desmond felt Farren weakening, his energy all but drained.
Death was too easy for this animal. Farren must suffer before his useless
existence was snuffed out. Desmond stilled, concentrating as he never had
before. Separating his emotions from the task, Desmond forced his mind back to
the scene shortly before he’d returned to the cabin. He pictured Farren on top
of Caresse, groaning as release shuddered through him. Desmond carefully formed
a new ending for the scene, communicating it to his Strigo symbionts,
instructing them to imprint it upon Farren’s mind.

Caresse watched him closely as he withdrew his fangs and
licked Farren’s blood from his lips. “He’s still breathing.” She stood beside
the bed, anger restoring color to her cheeks. “Why did you let him live?”

“We need a distraction and he’ll provide us with one. He
just betrayed the Levari Brethren.”

She glanced around the blood-splattered room and shook her
head. “They won’t see this as a betrayal. They all underestimated you. Farren
was one of many.”

“The cabin is sealed. The Brethren won’t know what took place
here until they reestablish communication with Farren and he will remember what
my symbionts just imprinted on his mind.”

“Which is?” She crossed her arms over her chest, staring
past him.

Desmond crawled off the bed and went to her, but she turned
away as he tried to draw her into his arms. “He will believe he was so enamored
with you that he allowed you to savage the guards.” Unable to leave her alone
in her misery, he lightly stroked her hair. “He didn’t anticipate the strength
their blood would give you and you overpowered him then escaped. He will
believe he failed, that he not only lost control of his prisoner, but you
stripped important information from his mind before you departed. The Brethren
will interrogate him, torture him and probe his memory to see which secrets you
now possess. He will die believing you bested him.”

“I did best him.” She looked back, her smile unsteady. “It
just took a bit longer than I expected.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her temple.
“You are, and have always been, amazing. I could not have chosen a better
mate.”

She finally turned and wrapped her arms around him,
accepting his embrace. “Where will we go now? Were you able to strip ‘important
information’ from his mind?”

“I think so, but I need time to analyze what I gleaned.
We’ll find a place away from the drama for a night or two and then we’ll plan a
new strategy.”

“Sounds perfect.” She eased back and looked into his eyes.
Her features were smooth, composed, but her gaze remained turbulent. “I’ve had
enough drama since we arrived on this planet to last a lifetime.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “One last thing before we go. I
want the Levari serum.” Ignoring the congealing blood coating the floorboards
and splattered on the walls, he searched the guards’ discarded clothes. A
small, hard-shell case was tucked into the inside pocket of a blood-dotted
jacket. He opened the case and smiled. It still contained four doses of the
paralytic and three of the antidote.

Caresse shuddered. “You should destroy it.”

“Perhaps later. Right now we are still too vulnerable. This
will help balance the power until I am strong enough to take control.” He
snapped the case closed, slipped it into his pocket and then held out his hand
toward Caresse.

A firm knock drew Eloise’s gaze toward the main door to the
rustic apartment. Bronik would have flashed into the room, so this must be the
mysterious healer. She glanced down at her bare legs. Bronik’s shirt only came
to mid-thigh but at least she was covered and out of restraints.

“Come in,” she called, feeling foolish. The door didn’t have
a conventional lock. If her guest couldn’t open it, Eloise had no idea how to
admit him or her.

The door swung inward and Simone stepped into the living
room, a large canvas bag hooked over one shoulder. Eloise had presumed the
healer was a Strigo host. She’d never expected to find a member of Vladya
strain…wherever this was.

“Simone.” She rushed forward and hugged the healer, thrilled
to see a familiar face.

Simone returned the hug with obvious reluctance, stepping
back as soon as Eloise opened her arms. “Are you feeling better?” The bag
slipped off her shoulder so she lowered it to the floor near the door.

The willowy blonde looked decidedly uncomfortable, which
sent questions racing through Eloise’s mind. Was Simone a prisoner too or had
she been some sort of spy? No, that was ridiculous. Simone had been a faithful
member of Vladya strain for at least ninety years.

Hoping to put the healer at ease before pointing out the
suspiciousness of her presence in a Strigo stronghold, Eloise simply answered
the question. “I feel much better, and I understand you played a part in my
recovery.”

“You’re not recovered. What we did was temporary at best.”
Simone was dressed in baggy jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, very different
from the flowing skirts and crocheted tops she’d favored in Vancouver. Simone
fiddled with the cuff of one sleeve as she explained, “We managed to transfer
enough energy to stabilize your system, but you’re still in danger. Do you have
any idea what the Levari used to paralyze your symbionts?”

To hell with subtlety. Her energy crisis could wait. She
wanted information and she wanted it now. “Where are we and what the hell are
you doing with Strigo strain?”

Pain and anger smoldered in the healer’s bright-blue eyes
then she glanced away. “You were there that night. You saw what they did to
me.”

She’d walked in on her brother having fun at Simone’s
expense. Garrett had sat back like a pagan king directing a private sex show, featuring
Simone and a male feeder. Garrett could be a regular bastard when it came to
women. He was a full-blooded host and felt that anyone who wasn’t had been
created for his amusement.

Still, one night of hedonistic sex didn’t excuse defection.
“You betrayed your strain because of Garrett?”

Simone raised her chin and squared her shoulders. “I hold
allegiance to no strain.” Bitterness made her tone sharp. “If I could get rid
of the symbionts infesting my blood I would. I didn’t ask for this ‘honor’ and
I don’t want it.”

“When and how did Strigo strain become your savior? How many
Strigo cocks did you suck before they agreed to help you?”

The healer looked truly disgusted by the accusation. “I
helped them escape your mother’s compound and they took me with them when they
fled. It’s as simple as that. Unlike your family, these men have demanded
nothing from me.”

Arguing with her was obviously a waste of time. If Strigo
strain hadn’t explained their price up front, they would reveal the cost when
it benefitted them most. No strain helped another out of the goodness of their
hearts. There was always a price. This “sworn protector” nonsense was the
perfect example. Bronik would protect her from the inevitable aggression of her
own strain, but only if she submitted her body unconditionally to his every
whim.

A slow, heated tingle spiraled through her body. Wasn’t that
thought supposed to be distasteful, not exciting?

She shook away the sensation and tried again. “Where are we?
If you simply used Strigo strain to escape, why are you still here?”

“We’re in upstate New York. I don’t know the exact location.
I was teleported here. And you’d be dead if I hadn’t stuck around. Just say
thank you.”

Eloise felt a twinge of shame. Simone was right. None of
this was her fault. “I’m sorry Garrett treated you so badly and thank you for
the energy.”

Tears filled Simone’s eyes. She angrily blinked them back,
obviously losing some inner battle. “The worst part is I’d been trying to make
him notice me for weeks. I wanted to be with him but…” She covered her mouth
with her hand and closed her eyes. “I didn’t want to be treated like a sex toy.
He didn’t want me. He just made me…”

Acting on instinct, Eloise wrapped her arms around Simone’s
trembling body. “Forget about Garrett. He’s not worth your tears.” She held
Simone and let her cry, not knowing what else to do. Eloise had spent so much
of her life suppressing her emotions, trying to appear strong and
unflappable—like her mother. Emulating Tara seemed like such a foolish endeavor
now. Without the power of Vladya strain behind her, Tara wouldn’t be nearly as
arrogant or indomitable.

Simone wiped her tears with her sleeve and stepped back,
looking even more uncomfortable than she had before the emotional outburst.
“May I go? I’m not sure why Bronik sent me here. I have nothing new to report.”

“He told me a healer facilitated the energy transfer. I
didn’t realize he was talking about you.” He’d offered the healer as a way for
Eloise to determine the truth of his claims and the crux of the matter still
remained unresolved. “If my levels become depleted again, can Bronik feed me?”

“It’s not if, it’s when, and he’d need a direct link to your
symbionts. Even then I’m not sure how they do it. Vladya symbionts shouldn’t be
able to ingest Strigo energy, but Alexi and Caitlyn only seem to need each
other now. It’s really quite remarkable.”

“Caitlyn is here too?” Caitlyn had been found in the forest
by Tara’s men, traumatized by a forced initiation. Something about the woman
fascinated Tara, so she’d allowed Caitlyn to remain at the Vancouver compound.
Caitlyn had been with Vladya strain for about five weeks when Prince Alexi’s
ship crashed in the Canadian Rockies. Caitlyn had been part of the team sent to
search the wreckage for survivors. That’s where she’d first encountered the
prince. “And she’s still with Prince Alexi?”

Simone sighed. “A lot happened the night you were taken.
Caitlyn is with Alexi by choice, but that’s all I’ll say. If you want to know
more, you’ll have to ask Caitlyn.”

It had been obvious from the beginning that Caitlyn and
Alexi were drawn to each other. Eloise had expected them to spend a few nights
indulging their desires and then get on with their respective lives. That’s
generally how it worked when hosts from different strains were attracted to
each other. Apparently there was more than a passing infatuation between these
two. She didn’t understand the significance of the individual events, but she
sensed that there was a whole hell of a lot Simone wasn’t telling her.

“Caitlyn, you and me all disappeared on the same night?”
Eloise shook her head. “Mother must be frantic.”

“Don’t count on it.” Simone’s tone turned icy and the sudden
drop in temperature centered Eloise’s attention on the healer. “Your mother
deals harshly with her enemies and she likely believes we all betrayed her
now.”

“I was kidnapped.” The objection sounded hollow even in her
ears. Again Simone was right. Tara wouldn’t care if the information had been
stripped from Eloise’s mind while she writhed in agony. Eloise was a liability
to Vladya strain now and Tara would treat her accordingly. Expecting anything
else from her ruthless mother would be foolish, dangerous.

“She’s always had a soft spot for you,” Simone mused.
“Perhaps you’ll be the exception to the rule.”

There were no exceptions to Tara’s rules. Everyone knew
that. Still, Eloise wasn’t ready to speak the words out loud. “If I allow
Bronik to form this bond, will he be able to maintain my energy level?”

“Alexi is keeping Caitlyn alive and according to her, Bronik
is also of the Yeager bloodline. It’s likely they have all sorts of unusual
abilities. I’m working with a team of Strigo scientists, trying to figure out
what the Levari used on you, but Bronik is your best chance at survival.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” she said, but her mind was
still reeling from Simone’s first revelation. Bronik was a Yeager? He was of
the
royal
bloodline? Holy hell. What had she gotten herself into now?
Even bruised, bloodied and in chains, he’d exuded power and authority. Still,
her wildest imaginings hadn’t led her to this explanation.

“I should go.” Simone motioned toward the door. “Unless
there’s something else you need.”

“What’s in the bag?” She indicated the canvas tote Simone
had left on the floor.

“Clothes, toiletries, all the things men don’t seem to think
about when they take women on unscheduled adventures. The only thing I wasn’t
able to find was a pair of shoes.”

“Anything is better than Bronik’s hand-me-downs. Thank you
again. And I mean it about Garrett. Forget him. He’s not worth another
thought.”

Sadness tinged Simone’s smile and she shook her head. “If
only it were that easy.”

Eloise moved to the window as the healer left. She was ready
for some time alone. She’d been shuffled from one crisis to another, drugged,
teleported, overwhelmed. It was disorienting. All she could see outside was the
shadowy outline of trees. Bronik could flash back and forth between long
distances but Simone had to have come from somewhere relatively close. It was
likely that this cottage wasn’t quite as secluded as it seemed.

So Simone had helped Bronik and the other Strigo survivors
escape the Vancouver compound. That answered one of the questions Bronik had
ignored. If Prince Alexi and Caitlyn were here, this was likely Edrick Yeager’s
estate. It only made sense that a visiting prince would stay with the leader of
his strain, especially if the leader was also his uncle. And if Bronik was a
member of the royal family, he must be related to Edrick as well.

All of this was beside the point. What the hell was she
going to do about Bronik’s proposition? That was what she needed to figure out.
Could she survive without Strigo protection and could she live with herself if
she paid his price? He wasn’t just asking for sex. She’d been imagining what it
would be like to fuck him ever since she interrogated him. He wanted her
complete surrender, submission, unconditional obedience in the bedroom. It
wasn’t a game, a role she could play for a while and then discard. This would
change her, redefine who she was and how she interacted with the rest of the
world. Even if he never issued a command in public, he was a Yeager. Everyone
would know what he demanded from his lovers, what he needed to be fully
satisfied.

But what about her needs?

Her memory flared with mocking intensity. She could still
feel his mouth tenderly pulling on her clit and his finger sliding in her pussy
and then her ass. No one had ever dared to touch her there. Several had tried
to coax her into exploring anal pleasures but she’d firmly refused. So why had
she found such pleasure when he took without asking, propelling her into the
most powerful orgasm of her life? She’d never wanted a man more than she’d
wanted Bronik, never ached with her soul as well as her body. He’d been harsh
and commanding and she’d been ready to yield, to follow where he led and revel
in every step of the journey.

But he was her enemy.

Or was he?

If she was no longer a trusted member of Vladya strain, why
should she refuse Bronik’s offer? If Tara believed Eloise had given up Vladya
secrets—and she had been the prisoner of both Levari and Strigo strains so the
conclusion was basically inevitable—Tara would send assassins, make sure the
damage was minimized.

Was Bronik her only option or just the most pleasurable one?
She forced herself to be objective, to think with her mind without accepting
input from her body. Everyone she knew was loyal to Tara. Everyone thought of
her as Tara’s daughter, even though their connection was symbiotic and not
biological. Tara had not given birth to Eloise, she had reared her from infancy
and gifted her with Vladya symbionts once Eloise reached physical maturity.
None of which would mean anything to Tara once she perceived Eloise as a
threat.

What about Garrett? Would he hide her, help her… Not a
chance. With Eloise gone his chances of leading Vladya strain had just doubled.
It had always seemed more likely that Tara would choose him as her successor
even though Eloise was older. Garrett had been born with symbionts while Eloise
had been initiated, so Garrett was undeniably stronger.

She sighed and turned from the window. None of that mattered
now. Her top priority had to be survival and Bronik seemed to be the only
viable alternative. Despite her stealth and battle skills, she couldn’t outrun
Tara’s assassins indefinitely. Which meant she needed more information. Was
this bond permanent? Would she have access to his mind or would it only give
him access to hers? Was she allowed to set guidelines, declare certain
pleasures unacceptable? Could he share her with others?

The scene with Simone and Garrett flashed through her mind.
Garrett had enjoyed absolute power over Simone. It had been subjugation, not
surrender. Forcing Simone to pleasure someone else had been more enjoyable to
Garrett than fucking the healer himself. He’d touched her, mocked her with her
body’s response to the sexually charged situation. And through it all Simone
had ached for a compassionate look or caring caress. The slightest kindness
would have changed the dynamic completely.

Eloise shivered. Allowing Bronik to control their mutual
pleasure was one thing, but she would never agree to be any man’s slave. If
Bronik wanted to control her like Garrett had controlled Simone, Eloise would
take her chances with the assassins.