OnsetofDanger (2 page)

“Shut up! I will not listen to the addled workings of your
filthy mind.”

He laughed and opened his eyes. Her protests were even less
convincing than her sneer. “If you’re serious about interrogating me, baby
doll, you’re gonna need a bigger knife.”

Her mouth gaped at the endearment and he chuckled. Hadn’t
anyone ever given her a nickname before? It had just slipped out, but the
phrase fit her. Despite her outlandish costume and dramatic makeup, there was
an undeniable vulnerability in his feisty interrogator.

Before she could pull herself together enough to reply, an
unseen hand gripped Bronik’s throat, cutting off his breath. He looked beyond
her and found a tall blond man standing in the doorway.

“You will speak respectfully or I’ll cut out your tongue and
strip the answers from your mind. Is that understood?” Filled with calm menace,
the man’s tone left no doubt that he meant every word.

The phantom pressure released and air flowed back into
Bronik’s lungs. He coughed and nodded. Was this the woman’s maker? Bronik
couldn’t smell the male well enough to be sure. The woman’s tantalizing scent
still lingered in his nose.

Despite the obvious power shift, Bronik felt obligated to
reply, “You can both slice me to ribbons and you’ll get the same result. I know
no more than I told her already.”

Bronik felt a light tingling in his mind. The male was
trying to scan him. He poured energy into his shields and calmly met the
stranger’s bright-blue gaze.

“Why are you here?” the woman asked, obviously resenting the
interruption. “I had the situation well in hand.”

The man arched his brow, mocking her. “It looked more like
you were ready to take his cock in hand to me.”

“Whatever technique I choose to employ is none of your
business.” She sounded annoyed rather than embarrassed. She would never be so
disrespectful to her maker. So who was he? Ex-lover? Rival? Relative?

“Tara sent me to check on you.” His gaze shifted back to
Bronik. “What has he told you?”

“He claims they’re a recon team and he has no idea why their
ship crashed.”

What the hell was she talking about? He hadn’t told her
anything
.
Rather than expose her lie, he just watched and listened.

“Do you believe him?”

She was trying hard not to fidget, but Bronik saw the subtle
tension in her shoulders and the careful distance in her gaze. “For the most
part.”

“Then stop wasting time,” the man snapped. “If you want to
fuck him, fuck him then return him to the pen. Tara has more important things
for you to do than toying with the prisoners.”

Who was Tara? The question hung in the silence as the man
walked away. Rather than state the obvious, Bronik asked, “So are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Going to fuck me? I already told you I’m more than
willing.”

She ignored the bait and moved toward the door. “I’ll have
someone release you and return you to the infirmary. Behave yourself this
time.”

Eloise sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her temples,
too confused to be afraid. Her mind felt muddled and her mouth was dry as ash.
She looked around the unfamiliar room and tried not to panic. She had to remain
calm, had to figure out what the hell was happening.

The room was small, clean yet dingy, offering no clue to her
location. With white walls, generic pictures and yard-sale furniture, the room
could be anywhere in the western world.

She was still dressed in a sequined evening gown but her
shoes were nowhere in sight. The last thing she remembered clearly was the
party. No, it began with the spaceship’s crash. Tara, her mother, presumed the
new recon team had arrived early and arranged for the survivors to be brought
to the Vancouver compound. Then she learned the survivors were all Strigo hosts
and became suspicious. Why would High King Alta send a ship full of Strigo
hosts to Earth? Always before the crews had been an equal balance of the four
strains.

The survivors became prisoners and Eloise was sent to
question the only member of the crew healthy enough to survive an
interrogation. She tried to learn their true destination and the purpose for
the visit, but the stubborn Strigo prisoner refused to talk. He laughed at her
attempts to intimidate and reveled in the pain she’d inflicted. An unwanted
shiver raced down her spine as she remembered his rippling muscles and
smoldering gaze. Never before had a man left her so infuriated, and yet so
aroused.

Her failure to learn anything useful was soon eclipsed by
Prince Alexi’s return from the dead. Everyone believed the prince had died in
the crash until he casually showed up at Tara’s front door and demanded the
immediate release of his crew.

Continuing to treat his crew as prisoners risked war with
Strigo strain, yet Tara wasn’t willing to lose the leverage entirely. So she
plastered on her best smile and claimed the survivors were simply too damaged
to leave her infirmary. She assured the prince that his crew would be released
as soon as their strength returned.

In the meantime, Tara insisted on throwing a welcome
reception for Prince Alexi. Eloise had tried to talk Tara out of it, tried to
explain all the logical reasons why the party was too big a risk and would
leave Vladya strain too exposed. But her mother would not be swayed. It had
been hundreds of years since a member of the royal family ventured to Earth and
Tara was going to take full advantage of the spectacle.

Tara might have been deaf to Eloise’s warnings, but Garrett
understood…

Her thoughts came grinding to a halt as an image formed
within her sluggish mind. Garrett lured her away from the party then threw her
over his shoulder when she started to resist. That’s when she’d lost her shoes.
He’d carried her into the trees beyond the formal gardens and…and her memory
was foggy after that.

Garrett was her brother, the one person she trusted without
question. There was no way he was part of her abduction. Tension knotted her
belly as she grappled with the contradiction. If Garrett would never
intentionally harm her, how could her memory be accurate?

She pushed to her feet and the room undulated like the image
in a funhouse mirror. She couldn’t remember being drugged but something was
definitely wrong. She was unsteady, her arms and legs felt weighted and her
symbionts were oddly still. Scanning inward, she tried to rouse her symbionts,
but they remained silent and motionless. She sent out a more powerful pulse,
shuddering as pain spread across her chest and down her arms. The result was
the same. No response from her symbionts. Were they dormant?

Or dead?

Fear stabbed into her chest and filled her with
restlessness. She steadied herself against the headboard then carefully closed
her eyes. She meticulously scanned her symbionts and detected the faint pulse
of their energy. They were alive, just unconscious as she had been.

Her relief was short-lived as questions scrolled through her
mind. What kind of drug affected symbionts as well as their hosts? She’d never
heard of such a thing. It was the symbionts’ resistance to external forces that
enabled them to heal, strengthen and empower their hosts.

How long had she been unconscious? And why had she been
taken? What did her abductors want? Ransom? Revenge? With Tara as a mother,
there could be any number of reasons. Strigo strain was the only real threat to
Vladya, but the Rom had legitimate reasons for hating Tara. If the Rom had
finally convinced the head of Strigo strain to champion their cause…

Her thoughts sputtered out without conclusion. She didn’t
have enough information to make an intelligent hypothesis.

Opening her eyes, Eloise waited for the vertigo to abate
then stumbled across the room. The door was locked and there were no windows or
other openings, not even a closet or adjoining bathroom. This wasn’t a bedroom
as much as a holding cell with a bed.

“Hello!” She closed her fist and pounded on the portal. “Is
anyone out there?” And did she really want to talk to them if they were? She
took a step back, regretting her impulsive move. As long as her symbionts
remained sedated she was human again, no match for any host.

She heard the click of a lock and then the doorknob rotated.
Lifting her skirt as she ducked to the side, she automatically reached for her
stiletto, but the sheath strapped to her thigh was empty. “Shit,” she whispered
as the door swung inward. She had no choice but to play a bluff and she’d never
been known for her poker face.

A blond man stepped into the room and pushed the door shut
behind him. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been drugged and kidnapped. Who are you? Why’d
you bring me here?” She looked around the nondescript room and added, “Where
the hell am I?”

“My identity is irrelevant. I represent the Levari Brethren
and you have access to something that belongs to them. Quite simply, they want
it back.”

“The Levari what? No one has sensed a Levari host for years.
Everyone believes they’re extinct.”

He moved closer and Eloise stepped back, hating the
vulnerability revealed by her retreat. She couldn’t scan him, couldn’t judge
the truthfulness of his claims. She felt lost without her symbionts, lost and
alone.

“I am Levari, so apparently we’re not extinct.” He smiled
and dimples formed on either side of his mouth. His features were pleasant but
she didn’t trust the warmth in his brown eyes.

“What do the Levari think I’ve taken? And why do they
suspect me of the theft?”

“We don’t suspect you. We suspect your mother.”

“My mother?” Doubt and confusion were her only weapons. It
was unlikely either would protect her for long, but hopefully given time she
could rouse her symbionts. “My mother was an accountant and she died years ago.
Are you sure you kidnapped the right person?”

Uncertainty flickered through his dark eyes then an
expressionless mask took over his features. “We are not in the mood for games.
You are Eloise Kovac, initiated daughter of Tara Kovac, current head of Vladya
strain.”

She needed to keep him talking, waste as much time as
possible. “Eloise is my cousin, or at least she was while we were human. We
were both initiated by Vladya hosts but my maker is one of General Kovac’s
soldiers, not General Kovac herself.”

“You lie.” He sounded almost robotic now, as if an
emotionless machine had taken over his body.

“No. It’s true! I know we look similar. I’ve even doubled
for Eloise from time to time, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You responded to the likeness of your brother as if you
were Eloise. You are Eloise.”

The
likeness
of her brother? That’s how they’d
managed to capture her. One of the Levari had taken on Garrett’s shape. She
shivered as all the ramifications spread through her mind. Levari strain was
not only alive, they were powerful enough to shapeshift and conceal their
presence from purebloods like her mother.

She slowly licked her lips but her tongue was too dry to
bring any relief. “What do you think she’s taken? Maybe I can help you find
it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly annoyed by her
continued attempts at deception. “She intercepted a message from Strigoia
Prime. The information was meant for the Levari Brethren.”

Eloise shook her head and took another step back. “I don’t
have access to anything from Strigoia Prime. Those sorts of secrets are
extremely well-guarded. Regardless of my name, you’ve got the wrong person.”

He searched her gaze for a long, silent moment then
shrugged. “We didn’t expect you to cooperate without motivation. Perhaps a few
hours of solitude, now that you’re awake, will make you more cooperative.” He
started for the door.

“Wait!” He paused yet didn’t turn around. “I need water.
Please. Whatever you gave me made me incredibly thirsty.”

With lethal calm he turned and faced her, dark eyes shining.
“Answer a few questions and I will bring you whatever you want to drink.”

“I’m not trying to be difficult. I don’t know anything.”

“Tell me about the party. No, go farther back. Tell me about
the spaceship. Was Prince Alexi the only survivor? Do you know what was
responsible for the crash?”

Immediately the image of the massive blond she’d
interrogated flashed into Eloise’s mind. He’d been hostile and arrogant,
sarcastic and…charming. She’d thought about him often in the past few days.

Baby doll
. He’d looked her in the eyes and called her
the outrageous nickname while he’d been in chains.

Giving herself a firm mental shake, she forced the Strigo
captive’s image from her mind and focused on her present predicament. What
should she tell the Levari? She had to say something or he’d lock her up and
ignore her for who knew how long.

“There were other survivors but most were in very bad
shape.” A truth and an exaggeration. Would he be able to sense the difference?

“A recon ship was not due for another three years. Why is
Prince Alexi here?”

“You’ll have to ask him. I’m not privy to his plans.”

He tensed, gaze narrowing as he stared into her eyes. “Has
your mother demanded a ransom for the survivors?”

“Tara Kovac is not my mother.”

Obviously irritated by her persistence, he spun toward the
door.

“I answered your questions. Where’s my water?”

“When I return.”

“When will that be? How long was I unconscious?”

With his hand on the doorknob he turned his head, but his
expression was unreadable. “Forty-two hours. No one knows where you are and
your symbionts are neutralized.”

So it had been intentional. She hadn’t been sure until that
moment.

“Not only are you helpless, you will slowly weaken and die.
Your body depends on your symbionts far more than you realize. Tell us what you
know and we’ll give you the antidote. I really don’t want to watch you die.”
With that cryptic statement echoing in the room, he stepped into the hall and
shut the door.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door, more
stunned than afraid. Forty-two hours? If she’d been unconscious almost two days
her mother had to have people searching for her. Unless Garrett’s imposter
provided an explanation for her absence. What had they done with the real
Garrett? Everyone believed the Levari had died out, so she didn’t know enough
about the strain to decide if they would be ruthless enough to kill Garrett
outright or stash him somewhere until the impostor completed the task. She
shook her head and pressed her hand over her pounding heart. The mystery was
irrelevant. She couldn’t help Garrett or anyone else unless she escaped.

Too anxious to stand still, she crossed the room and tried
the door handle. It was unlikely that her captor had been careless enough to
leave it open, but she needed to find out. It was locked. The bed, a banged-up
dresser and a faded chair were the only furnishings, so she knelt on the floor
and looked under the bed. With her Vladya abilities stifled, she had to find
some sort of weapon. If her captor was anything like the hosts she knew, his
next visit would escalate to an aggressive interrogation.

The only thing under the bed was a cluster of dust bunnies.
The contents of the dresser were just as useless. She didn’t even have her
shoes! How was she supposed to defend herself without…

A glimmer of light drew her attention to the center of the
room as the massive Strigo captive flashed into view. Her dry throat strangled
her scream and a menacing smile curved his lips. How had he escaped the
Vancouver compound? She glanced at the door then looked at him, unsure if the
Levari or this man posed the bigger threat.

Without explanation he caught her wrist and pulled her into
his arms. She wasn’t foolish enough to consider this a rescue, but anything had
to be better than waiting for the Levari to return. She clutched his broad back
and pressed her face against his chest, breathing in his scent with each ragged
breath.

Her surroundings blurred and the floor dissolved beneath her
feet. She gasped and his arms tightened around her as the world spun out of
control.

* * * * *

“One hour,” the Levari guard stressed. “You have exactly one
hour with your mate.”

Caresse nodded, trying not to let her frustration show. It
was taking more and more effort to keep the Levari Brethren out of her mind.
She wasn’t sure why Desmond had insisted on interrogating the Vladya prisoner,
but she knew better than to question Desmond’s methods. He always had a
plan—though it was often complicated and unconventional—and he always put her
safety and happiness first.

She’d been a blood-slave when Desmond found her, a hollow
shell, hopeless and alone. He rescued her from a feeding den, putting himself
at great risk in the process. She owed him her life and her loyalty, so she
would fight with her dying breath to stay by his side.