“Talk to me, Frank.” A younger-generation Elven, the Haitian leader had a modern name. Fualth was currently using the name James Dalton Mason. Over the centuries he’d learned to use names that were interchangeable. It both created and saved the confusion of multiple aliases. Mason, James, Jimmy, JD, Dalton, even Mase worked with this one.
“Mr. Mason, we believe we may have made a preliminary contact with the host of a server used to support and aid many of the targets we seek,” Frank began to explain. Could it be? Fualth feared to hope.
“Which server would that be?” he asked, feigning mild interest.
“The Elusive,” Frank stated.
“And you think it’s her because …?” It had long ago been determined that the Elusive was female from the few pieced-together snippets collected from her groups and members. On the extremely rare occasions that they had been able to infiltrate one of her secured sites.
Twenty-five years he’d sought the female. Her sites were buried under layers and layers of algorithms and constantly changing random IPs. The longest contact to his knowledge had been sixty seconds. That had been the closest they had ever gotten to her. What was supposed to get him to a beginning point of one of her underground railroads had turned into a bloodbath. The woman he had encountered had immediately slit her own throat while a human male watched, forcing Fualth to place a hurried psychic patch over his mind, probably turned the poor bastard into a vegetable. That had been fifteen years ago.
Frank explained that the auto-response had set up the interview for the next day. Fualth only half-listened until Frank began to explain the complex structure of the simple message and the behavior of the response within the computer system. Buried deep into the response was a Trojan that deleted all history of her response and the original inquiry within five minutes of having opened the reply. That was one of the Elusive’s many skills. If the inquirer were a fraud, they wouldn’t have the original email to reference in any way.
“How would you like to handle the interview?” Frank asked, aware that chances were fifty-fifty they would lose the lead rather than gain any advantage. If the virus she’d sent detected one wrong thing in the computer memory, one wrong inflection in the vocals of the presenter, any kind of red flag, all trace would be wiped out completely.
“I will be bringing someone with me. A female decoy, who should be able to imitate the type of individual who would make access.” He pondered for a moment before adding, “You should also make available any individual you have under your leadership who you feel could bring us the advantage with the Elusive. I will consider all suggestions.”
“There are a few who would appreciate being considered for the task,” Frank replied. Fualth knew he would be grateful that his members’ contribution to this contact wasn’t being minimized or overlooked.
A few strokes on his own computer and he informed Frank, “My arrival time is confirmed for 3:00. That should give us time to select the candidate and plot a course.” A slow smile spread across Fualth’s face. “Please convey my congratulations to your staff members. Good work, Frank.”
“Thank you, sir. I will be sure to let them know you appreciate them.” The monitors showed Frank standing in the computer room surrounded by not just the two involved but a half-dozen more members of the team. They were thumbs-upping and high-fiving one another as Ed spoke. “We will have everything ready for your arrival.”
Fualth disconnected. Unable to contain his smile, Fualth hit the intercom button. “Pack a bikini, Sofia. We’re headed to Haiti.”
“Yes, sir,” came the immediate response of a well-trained Hulven assistant. No hassles, no questions. She was also psychically strong and blood-bonded to him. This situation was not something he would entrust to an unknown. He would need to know that whoever would be interviewing with the Elusive was truly loyal. A loyalty like that would require a bond that most would be reluctant to offer.
Speaking of bonds. Fualth telepathically reached for his mentor.
“My liege.”
He waited for a response. His mentor, Osiris, had the ability to shield from even the most powerful of bonds. Fualth wondered if even a bloodmate would be able to fully connect to the ghost. Osiris could shield and shadow himself so completely, he could be standing in front of you and you wouldn’t know.
“
Yes, Fualth,”
came the eventual reply.
“
I believe we may have a line on the Elusive, sire.
” Fualth informed him in the most direct way possible, telepathically forwarding the memory of his exchange with Haiti to Osiris.
After another moment Osiris commented, “
You have the situation well in hand. However, keep me informed of your findings in this. I am pleased, Fualth.”
Then the connection was broken. Fualth preened under the rare autonomy he was being given in attempting to acquire this female.
Chapter Eight
“Jess.” Lying on his back, holding her in his arms, running his fingers up and down her arm, Shane hated to wake her from the few hours of sleep she’d fallen into after they’d made love.
“Hmmm.” Her voice purred. She was curled into his side with her head on his shoulder, the full length of her heat pressed against him. She fit perfectly, felt perfect.
“We should talk before you return to Moira.” He was stunned at the return of the liquid fire she easily turned his body into. He needed to talk to her, but his body wanted to do other things with her.
“I have to concentrate on her as I fall to sleep to go to her.” She lifted her head and leaned over, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, pulling a groan from him. Her eye’s mischievous, she said, “She’s not really on my mind right now.”
Shane marveled at his reaction to this woman. He had expected his lust to be satisfied after having had her. No such luck. If anything she was drawing him to her even more. He felt like he was touching the edge of a Jess cyclone, believing he was in control, only to find she was spinning him faster and faster, pulling him in until she owned his soul. That thought should have given him pause, but looking into her emerald green eyes, studying the many points of the gold starburst pattern within, he felt like he was coming home.
“So you believe in your ability to physically travel using psychic energy?” Her easy acceptance was too good to be true.
“The drink does help me in the real world. I am still skeptical—you could be crazy. I’m hoping that I don’t have to admit to myself that I just had a gruntfest with a nutball.” She rolled onto her back beside him.
He turned onto his side, rising onto his elbow to peer down on her silly smile lighting up the room. “Gruntfest? You have got to be kidding me. That is how you refer to this?” Her outrageousness made him laugh.
“That’s what my best friend Aymee calls it,” she admitted, reaching up to cup his face in her palm. “I’m not sure it’s an adequate term for the last few hours. Is it always like this?”
“I have to admit, it’s never been like this before for me. I’ve never felt this type of connection to anyone before.” His chuckles drifted off in his sincerity. Was that really him saying something so sappy? She still gave him a look full of tentative hope laced with just the perfect amount of skepticism. Usually he appreciated a female whose heart wasn’t attached to her sex. Fates knew he’d had his share of females who got clingy after a single orgasm. He preferred someone sexually confident, though confidence didn’t always guarantee that an emotional attachment didn’t develop, resulting in the inevitably distasteful teary scenes. With Jess he longed to see love there.
“I did note you didn’t deny the nutball part.” She wiggled her finger at him. She seemed just as uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation as he was.
He leaned in for another kiss, but the rumble of her stomach drew him up short. She blushed adorably. “Did I mention I’m starving?” She batted her eyelashes at him with an innocent, toothy smile, making him laugh again. He snatched up the robe she had shrugged from her body earlier. Tying the sash, he trotted off to the kitchen, where he’d abandoned her snack earlier.
****
Jess watched Shane leave the room, his defined calves visible below the hem of the robe. Throwing her arm over her face as soon as he was a safe distance from her, she thought,
I am in so much trouble here
. She had thought, coming into this, that she would finally have one of Aymee’s infamous “ten-day true-love flings with a hot gruntfest” to share with her overly social best friend and business partner, naively thinking she would finally have an experience to share.
That would have been just too freaking easy. Sure as shit, karma kicked her right in the girl parts. Literally. What she was feeling bordered on obsession rather than Aymee’s form of amusement. No, she was going to be the pathetic loser who fell for the guy who popped her cherry. Left with a broken heart. It didn’t help that he was saying stupid sappy shit to her, all of which she craved to hear. Nor that she felt like she could tell him everything. And freaking had, damn it! Why couldn’t he just say something guyish, like, “Thanks, Babe, that ROCKED.” Or something equally lame. She vowed to not turn this into an emotional quagmire, feigning nonchalance when she heard him returning.
“Holy henna, I was about to send out search and rescue,” she accused when he brought in a tray of food in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, presenting it to her while bowing, like it was an offering to the gods. She peered at the items on the tray and gave a mock snort. “What, no grapes? Where are my fan wavers?” He threw the bottle of water at her, which she caught, giggling. “Hey, you started it. Did you really think I’d say no to a sex slave bringing me food? If you’re into being submissive, I’ve heard ropes and handcuffs are fun.”
“Oh, yes, definitely going on the to-do list.” He laughed, his eyes getting darker. “I’m thinking you’re the one who needs the restraints. Hell, that may be the only way I ever get the upper hand with you. Your sense of humor is almost as addictive as your oleander scent and honey taste.” Setting down the plate, he grabbed her squirming feet, pulling her weight to the end of the bed. He bowed down to her in earnest, this time worshiping the sweet folds of her core. She could get used to this kind of bedside manner.
****
Showered and dressed, Shane walked into the kitchen, listening to Jess hum an unfamiliar song from the bathroom. He smiled and measured out the coffee, adding water and turning on the maker. He felt the shift of energy from the entry of the kitchen.
“Hey. Jerky.” He addressed Jerika without glancing over his shoulder. “You want coffee?”
“Absolutely” She went to the cupboard to grab mugs. “So we need two or three?” her ear shifted slightly back toward the humming coming from Jess. “I’ll take that as three.” She grinned.
Shane grunted but couldn’t hide the curving at the corner of his lips as he remembered watching the gold star engulf the green of Jess eyes as her lids slowly closed in ecstasy; her head falling back as she moaned long, giving him a clear view of the twin dimples in the roof of her mouth, the site of her saguindentes developing; her legs coming together, nearly crushing his skull when she crested her orgasm. Good thing he wasn’t human.
“So that is what you wanted the twenty four hours for. You’re such a dirt bag,” Jerika teased. “I’ll have you know that if the council finds out that I omitted her from this month’s progress report, I am throwing your ass to the wolves.”
It was dumb luck that they met Jess on the very day of the month that Jerika was required to report to the council on her progress within her chosen field of human integration.
All young Elven were required to live in the human realm full-time for a period of not less than ten years during their lifetime. Some chose to live human for longer periods. They were still required to change identities and demographics at regular intervals. Most that chose that were the youth or unmated.
Jerika was a first-timer. Shane was her mentor. He was also her great-uncle. Shane had gone to her self-defense course at the academy to help her keep her strength in check. There was a risk that Jerika would’ve been unable to maintain the human facade.
“Is that coffee I smell?” Shane held out a second mug to Jess. Pausing before the rim reached her full lips, she noticed Jerika. “Hi. You’re Jerika, right?” A blush colored her cheeks.
“Yeah. Do I get to call you Jess or Sensei?” Jerika teased lightly. Shane saw Jess visibly relax. She smiled back at his protégé.
“Jess is good.” Jess leaned against the counter, blowing the coffee softly. Her eyes met Shane’s over the rim. The intensity in his gaze brought an entirely different blush to her cheeks.
“I am so freakin’ glad that you have learned to shield at least. I do not want to know what just went through your head.” Jerika rolled her eyes at Shane. “Anywho, last night at Hooters the others ordered buffalo wings. I didn’t wanna seem stupid, so I didn’t ask anyone. What are buffalo wings? Is there some weird animal out there I don’t know about?”
“How old are you?” Jess asked.
Shane busted out laughing at Jerika’s question. It took him a minute to realize the significance of what Jess had just asked.
Handing Shane her empty mug, frowning at him laughing at her, Jerika answered Jess. “Fifty-two. I’m a newbie. This is my first integration.”