Dark Passion Rising (7 page)

 Her warm body shifted away from him, replaced with the cold
prick of steel against his chest.

 
Marcus struggled harder to free himself, knowing what
would come next, what
always
came next.  Thrashing against his sheets,
fighting against the inevitable turn, his dream continued ruthlessly onward.

 
Grey stone walls.  The air cold and damp against his fevered
skin.  He hung from thick chains wrapped around his wrists and anchored into
the ceiling.  His arms were dislocated, compliments of the many beatings he had
suffered at the hands of his captors.  His back and chest were flayed to the bone. 
Blood oozed sluggishly from the vicious wounds.  His body throbbed with agony
in time to his weakening pulse.  Soon it would be over.

 He had lost count of how many days of torture he had endured. 
His only focus now was on death and the end of his torment.  He heard the sound
of footsteps approaching and raised his battered face to the door.  His
eyesight was gone, he had been blinded, but his other senses were still sharp.  Marcus
could tell by the clean smell that his captor approached.

  The door squeaked on rusted hinges and Marcus tracked the
swishing sound of expensive cloth moving against sandaled feet.  He stayed
silent, waiting for the next torture his captor had planned for him.

  “Marcus Valerian, Rome’s greatest gladiator.  How the mighty
have fallen.  You must be curious as to why this has befallen you?”

Marcus remained silent, he had already figured out that his
popularity was the reason for the hell he currently found himself in.

 His captor sounded irritated as he came nearer to Marcus.

“I will tell you anyway.  The Roman Senate cannot allow any
possibility of a Spartan going free.  What kind of society would we be to let
an animal such as you loose upon the populace?  Yet I am not without some
mercy.  It will not be said that I let a man go to his God without honor.”

  “Honor?” Marcus ground out.  “Leave me to die in peace, you
pompous buffoon.”

 “You would do well not to anger me.  I can make your death
much more painful than it needs to be,” he whispered close to Marcus’s ear.

 The sound of the door creaking open alerted him that they
were not alone.

 The creaking turned into a buzzing sound, waking Marcus from his
dream.  For a moment he didn’t recognize his surroundings, then slowly his
memories faded into the past.  He reached for his cell on the night table and flipped
it open, stopping the irritating ring.

“Marcus here, what is it?” he demanded as he squinted through the
window at the long shadows covering the expanse of desert.  Marcus guessed it
was late afternoon, not too long since he had finally dropped off to sleep.    

“I see you still wake up grouchy.” Amusement filled the voice on
the other end of the line.

 “Damien, you of all people know it’s bad form to wake a vampire
before the sun sets.”

 “True, but where is the fun in waiting?” Damien chuckled.  “I
trust you are holding up fair enough out there, old friend?  I have heard from
the Tribunal and thought it best to not wait until you arose.”

  Marcus’s grip on the cell phone tightened, but his voice held
no emotion.

“I take it there has been a decision made on Miss Ellis’s
Rising?”

  “This is a very sticky situation.  If she were not a police
officer it would be less… complicated.  We must also take into account that it
has been over one hundred and fifty years since a Lycan has successfully turned
a human.  Her Rising will be watched closely by all Breeds.”

 “Tambra is not a lab experiment to be dissected by the
Tribunal,” Marcus growled, unable to hide his irritation at the thought of how
cavalier the Tribunal was about holding Tambra’s life in their hands.  That
thought made him pause.  Since when did he care about what happened to a rising
Lycan?  It was his job to see to the safety of
all
Breeds.  He enforced
the Tribunal’s laws.  His name was legendary among the Enforcers for his
impartiality.  How could one small human undo him so thoroughly?

  “Marcus?  Did you hear what I said?” Damien’s voice snapped him
back from his musings.  He heard his friend sigh on the other end.  “Look, the
Tribunal wants you to bring Tambra back in so she can be monitored.  If she
shows the signs of Rising and not just shifting like a run-of-the-mill Were,
she could prove that Pure Bloods can propagate their kind more readily.”

Marcus knew how close the Lycans were to extinction.  Their
conception rates were too low, and only their longevity had saved them for this
long.  If Tambra successfully made it through the Rising, she would belong to
another world, a world that had no room for a vampire in it.

“Alright.  So we monitor her.” Marcus agreed with that at least.

 “Temple Fox must have complete access to her.  As leader he has
first choice to become her Mate.”

 Those words made the blood pound in his ears as a rush of
protective rage washed over him.

“No,” he spat.  “He’s an inferior choice.  Choose another.”

 “There is no other, Marcus.  Temple has the purest lineage of
all Lycans.  As such, he is the only choice for her.  The Tribunal is backing
this all the way.”

 “Fine.  Tell the Tribunal he can have
supervised
access
to her,” Marcus snapped.  “I will not budge on this point, Damien.”

 “Very well, old friend.  I am curious though, what is this woman
to you?  I have never heard you this way.”  Concern dripped from his voice,
causing Marcus to flinch.  He was unprepared to discuss this with Damien.  What
he felt for Tambra was only sexual attraction.  He had gone too long without a
woman and he was going to remedy that.

  “What news from the Tribunal regarding the spike in ferals
amongst the Breeds?” Damien asked, clearly interpreting Marcus’s silence as a
reason to change the subject.

Marcus had contacted the Tribunal as soon as Zeke had made his
disquieting discovery about other Breeds being affected.  The idea that this
may not be a disease, but a carefully orchestrated revolt, made Marcus’s
stomach churn with dread.

 “According to my reports, it is escalating at an alarming rate
all over the world, and more than the Lycans are involved.  So far, no feral
has been captured alive for interrogation.  We are working in the dark at the
moment.  As are you,” Damien related grimly.  A hint of frustration bled
through.

 It was going from bad to worse, Marcus thought as he ended the
call, promising to report any news he might uncover.  He had a strong suspicion
that by the time any of them uncovered the truth, it would be too late.

****

 “You’re a
what
?” Cody nearly choked on his steak.

Tambra shushed him, glancing fervently around the busy restaurant
before continuing in a whisper.

 “I was bitten that night in the alley.  By a werewolf,” she
repeated.  “I know how it sounds, Cody, so stop looking at me like I have a
screw loose.  I really need you to believe me okay?”

“Tam, you can’t honestly believe this.  Next you’ll tell me that vampires
exist!” At the look on her face he threw his napkin down on his plate in
disgust.  “You have got to be kidding me.  You think just because I come from
New Orleans I’ll buy into this crap?”

“Look, you know me, Cody.  Am I the type of person who would make
this up?” Tambra demanded in an angry hiss.

  “No, but you have to agree it’s farfetched.  Werewolves and
vampires in the twenty-first century?  C’mon, cher.  Science has empirically
proven those things don’t exist,” Cody scoffed lightly, as if talking to a
child.  

Tambra gritted her teeth in frustration.  “I have
empirical
proof
that they do.”

She stabbed her steak with her fork and cut off a piece, placing
the bloody meat in her mouth and chewing with relish.

Cody frowned at her.  “Whatever is happening to you can be
explained in a rational, scientific manner.”  He held up a hand when Tambra
opened her mouth to argue.  “I will keep an open mind.  If you turn into a wolf,
I‘ll believe you.  But if you don’t, you’ll agree to see someone about this.”

“A shrink you mean,” she spat.

“Yes.  What do you say, Tam?  I’m willing to give you the chance
to prove it to me.”

 “Great.  I just have to turn into a dog, and hopefully not tear
your throat out.”  Tambra rolled her eyes.

“Do I have to get you a flea collar?” Cody laughed as she glared
at him.

 “Only if you want to stop breathing.  God, of all things.  A
dog!  I hate dogs.  They smell, they eat cat shit, they rummage through the
garbage.  They’re disgusting!” 

 “According to you, it’s a wolf you are turning into, not a dog. 
There is a big difference between them, cher.”

 “When did you become such an expert?” she demanded.

  “I have a friend who’s really into wolves.  They’re actually
remarkable animals.  They have a complex society with a hierarchy.  The bitch
will choose the strongest of the alpha males to mate with.  They lead and
protect their pack with their lives.”

 “Dogs.  Dogs with friends,” Tambra insisted.  “And just so you
know, what I saw in the alley was more from
The Howling
movies than an
actual wolf.  It was enough to make your blood run cold.  I have never seen
anything like it.”

 “And you think that’s what you’ll turn into?” Cody frowned.  At
Tambra’s hesitant nod he blew a raspberry.  “You really believe this crap don’t
you?”

 “Yeah, I really do.  You have to promise me that if I even
start
to look at you like you’re a side of beef, you’ll lock me away somewhere so I
can’t hurt anyone.”

 Cody cursed.  “I can’t believe I’m playing along with this.  Alright,
I’ll see to it.” 

“Thanks, Cody.  I couldn’t live with the knowledge that I hurt
you, or any innocent who got in the way.”

 “So, what do we do now?  Do I keep watch on you until the full moon
rises?  We’re going to find Marcus Valerian.”

And hopefully the attraction she felt for him had dissipated.  If
not, things were about to get very complicated.

Chapter Seven

It was dark by the time Tambra made it back to her apartment.  Frustration
nipped at her, making her temper boil up to the surface.  The oppressive heat
only added to her bad mood.  She and Cody had spent hours trying to find
Marcus’s home and had come up empty.  It was like the man had vanished into
thin air.  They had spent hours retracing her escape from his house, but that
too lead only to a dead end.  How could she not remember?  Even in her weakened
state she should have been able to pick out at least one familiar landmark in
her flight to freedom.

 What made it worse was Cody’s obvious attitude about the whole
thing.  It was quite clear he was humoring her, and thought the whole thing was
a hallucination brought on by the stress.  By the time he pulled his old Honda
Civic up to her apartment complex Tambra was nothing but a seething cauldron of
frustration and anger.  She needed time away from Cody, and everyone else, so
that she could think.  

The confines of the car pressed in on her and she sprang out of
it before Cody could even make a full stop.  She leaned into the darkened
interior, Cody’s concern illuminated by the blue glow of the dashboard lights.  Fighting
for control as anger burned through her, she told him she would call him later,
and slammed the door. 

She squelched the urge to run from him.  Instead, she stepped out
of view, between the chaparral trees lining the front of the building, and
waited until Cody drove away.  As his taillights disappeared into the distance,
she stepped out of her hiding place with a tired sigh.  She needed to get her
shit together, fast, before she found her ass planted on a psychiatrist’s
couch.

 Tambra moved through the dark shadows of her walkway, when a
sudden chill of apprehension crawled up her spine, lifting the hair at the nape
of her neck.  She could feel eyes watching from the safety of the shadows and
she mentally kicked herself for not allowing Cody to see her to the door.  As
she neared her apartment, a dark outline separated from the shadows and moved
in front of her.  She jerked to a halt, reaching behind her for her gun and
cursing under her breath.  She really needed to get that back from Marcus, and
soon.

 “I am not here to harm you, little one.  You’re safe.”

The man’s voice was deep and smooth as he stepped out of the
shadows, his hands raised to show he was not armed.

  “Who are you and what do you want?” Tambra demanded, taking a
defensive stance.  The man was big, standing at least six foot one and leanly
built in his designer suit.  His face was still in shadow so she couldn’t get a
good read on his intentions.

  “Temple Fox.  I wanted a chance to meet you.”

 “How do you know me?” Tambra demanded, not relaxing her stance
in the slightest.

  “I would have thought Valerian would have mentioned my name to
you.”  Disapproval was evident in his tone.  “I am the leader of the Lycans
here in Nevada.”

  “So you wanted to see what kind of dog I turned into?  Sorry to
disappoint you, but as you can see, no full moon yet, so no slavering beast
yet.  I’ll send you an invite on the happy occasion.”

 “Perhaps we can talk about this somewhere more private?  We can
go to my place, it is really quite comfortable,” Temple suggested.

  “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen, buddy.  Right here is just
fine with me.”

 “Very well, we will do this your way, Tambra.  This time.”  His
condescending manner had her gritting her teeth.  “I must say I do look forward
to getting to know you better.  Your beauty and fire are quite a pleasant
surprise.  I will enjoy showing you the world of which you will be part.”