Chosen by Blood (10 page)

“Knox has asked for your participation.”

Annoyance made her frown. “I told you before, I’m trained in hostage negotiation and security, not—”

“Not on the team. With his children. I believe you’ve met them.”

“Yes.” Knox’s twins, a boy and girl, were ten now. Years away from showing their vamp traits. Joelle and Thomas occasionally e-mailed her, but she only let herself get so close. And it wasn’t close at all. Not anymore.

“Knox has asked that you stay with them.”

“Stay?” she echoed dumbly.

“Live with them. In the Dome. As extra security while he’s on the team.”

She looked back and forth between the two men. “You’re joking.”

“I assure you, my children are not a joke,” Knox commented darkly.

“I never thought otherwise,” she snapped. “But I have a life and a job and neither involves you. I’m afraid you’ll just have to get someone else to babysit.”

“Joelle said she expects you to bring more caramels.”

At Knox’s words, her quick inhalation of breath was almost painful. The memories pounded at her. Her visits with the children. The way she’d snuck them caramels. Until she’d had to stop going because it had just been too painful to be near Knox. And too tempting. Although she’d managed to see Bianca once or twice over the years, she’d deliberately stayed away from the others, fearful that it would be her breaking point. That she’d bend, just as she’d almost bent two years ago.

That’s what horrified her the most. That she’d been that weak. That needy for him that she’d almost accepted what he and Noella had offered.

Never again. Sick to her stomach, she forced herself to look at Knox and speak without wavering. “The answer is no.” Then, turning on her heel, she walked out of the office.

“Felicia . . .”

She ignored Kyle’s call and blindly headed down the hall, not breathing again until she was in her office with her door closed and locked.

 

 

The dharmire didn’t bother going after Felicia on foot. One second he was standing in front of Mahone, and the next he was gone. He hadn’t even had to say “Beam me up, Scottie” first.

With Felicia’s expression of betrayal still haunting him, Mahone collapsed in his chair. He sympathized with her more than she knew.

Over the years, she’d fought the good fight against Devereaux. If his wife hadn’t been killed by a group of insurgents one year ago, she probably would have kept on fighting and won. Now, however, Mahone’s money was on Devereaux. The vamp was not only smart, but willing to fight dirty to get what he wanted. To him, fighting dirty wasn’t incompatible with keeping one’s honor, not if the fight would benefit more than it would hurt. Devereaux had convinced himself that being with Felicia would benefit them both more than it would hurt them.

Just as Mahone had convinced himself that keeping the whole truth from Knox Devereaux was a temporary necessity. Hell, given the greater secret he was keeping from everyone else, it had been easy. The Goddess might disagree with his methods, but he really didn’t give a rat’s ass.

A corner of his mouth tipped up. Yeah, Mahone
,
he thought. You’re a real badass when she’s out of the room and out of your head, aren’t you?

But hey, he’d do whatever it took to make this team a success, including getting the lay of the land before giving Team Red too much information.

While they weren’t at war anymore, only so much trust could reasonably be expected between the Others and the Bureau, at least until time proved that trust warranted.

The success of Team Red’s first mission was a critical step in that process.

Mahone shut his door, locked it, and established a secure line to the White House. In under a minute, he was connected to the President of the United States.

“Good afternoon, Director. I’m assuming all the offers have been tendered?”

“That’s right, Mr. President. The wraith and Mr. O’Flare have accepted. The others have shown enough interest that I’m confident they will as well.”

“Any surprises in terms of what they expect in return?”

“None, except Mr. O’Flare has asked for an IOU to use sometime in the future.”

The President chuckled. “Smart move for a man who doesn’t seem to have any specific needs at the moment. So he turned down the money?”

“Without even blinking.”

“And Mr. Devereaux? Has he indicated why he’s reluctant to take the lead?”

Mahone hesitated. “He’s still not buying the theory that the scientists would sell out their country for money. He wants answers. Reassurance.”

“I thought you provided the assurances when he read your mind.”

“With respect to what he was looking for, it seems I did. But I think we should give him access to the scientists. Otherwise, we risk his unease turning into outright suspicion.”

“So you’re recommending we let him try to read their minds?”

“That’s right.”

“And you’ll make sure the proper arrangements are made first?”

“Yes. There’s every reason to believe we can control the situation. What comes of it isn’t as important as the gesture.”

Several seconds of silence ticked by before the President spoke again. “Do it. I want him on board and the team assembled. The sooner we get the antidote, the sooner the team can focus on the hot spots we’ve identified.”

“And once they’ve proven themselves,” Mahone answered, “we’ll be able to come clean with the rest.”

Mahone didn’t phrase it as a question, but the President answered as if he had.

“Perhaps. Let’s take things one step at a time, Director. Keep me posted.”

“Yes, sir.” Mahone hung up and raked a hand through his hair.

One step at a time, he repeated to himself.

As he packed up his stuff to head home, Mahone thought of Hunt’s questions, posed days before. The ones that had so eerily echoed those of the Goddess who’d visited him.

“Tell me, Mahone, how many Others do you call friend?” he’d asked. “How many do you drink a beer with when you’re watching a game?”

Hunt’s hostile tone had bugged him, but the question itself really hadn’t. No, he didn’t have an Other for a friend, and certainly not one he drank a beer with after work. The truth was, though, Other status had nothing to do with it. Mahone didn’t have a human friend he drank beer with, either.

For the first time in a long time, Mahone wished it weren’t true. It was times like this that calling someone to get shit-faced drunk with sounded pretty damn good.

 

 

Teleportation.

Felicia had just locked her office door when the word popped into her head.

It was followed swiftly by two other thoughts. She was a fool, and Knox had been in her office before.

She’d just registered the luscious smell when Knox materialized in front of her. She backed away until she hit the door.

He didn’t move. He didn’t crowd her.

He didn’t have to.

She felt him. All over.

“Running again?”

“Leave,” she croaked as panic flared.

“Not this time.”

The calm words infuriated her. “What game are you playing ? I’m not at your beck and call. If you want to go off and play soldier—”

He kept his voice soft, but there was no denying the savage fury and desire that glittered in his eyes. “I don’t play. I subdue. I rescue. I fuck. I kill if I have to.”

It wasn’t bravado or threat, simply fact. It was easy to forget that Knox, for all his elegance and charm and sophisticated clothing, was a warrior. One that would fight with his bare teeth and hands to protect his own.

Despite the chemical warfare used against the vamps, they’d held their own during the War. Knox’s leadership had been a huge reason why the Otherborn clans had briefly joined to fight their common enemy—humans. Of course, most of those alliances had now fractured as each clan had once again focused on its own needs.

“They want you, Felicia.”

“And what your children want, they always get?” She’d meant to sound flippant, but was afraid it came out wistful instead.

Stepping back, he seemed to deliberately bank the fire in his eyes. “If I can’t have you, it’s only fair they should.”

“You didn’t want me. Not enough.”

The fire within him exploded, pulsing into the air and licking at her mercilessly. Shaking his head, nostrils flaring, his smile resembled a snarl. “Now that was an incredibly stupid thing to say.”

“I didn’t mean—”

Palms flattened on either side of her head, he caged her in with his arms. His eyes glowed, the irises expanding until she couldn’t look away.

Why had she said that? All these years, she’d never doubted his physical yearning for her. The only reason they hadn’t made love was because she’d refused him. Was that what she’d meant? That she’d wanted him to ignore her protests? To ignore the fact that he was married to her friend? And when Noella was gone, to ignore his unshakable sense of duty so he could leave procreating vampires to other vamps?

Yes, she realized. Some small part of her—some crazy, irrational, lust-crazed part of her—actually resented the fact that he’d done and continued to do the honorable thing, as if that somehow proved he couldn’t have wanted her as much as he’d claimed.

Her thoughts were so horrifying that she finally managed to look away. She pushed at his chest, trying to put some space between them. He refused to allow it. “Look at me,” he growled.

She shook her head, then gasped as she felt the slight tingling that preceded persuasion. “No,” she whispered, even as part of her cried, Yes. Make me come to you. Don’t give me any choice.

But then the tingling stopped. Breathing hard, he lowered his forehead and pressed it against hers. At the same time, he pressed his hips into her, grinding his iron-hard length into the vee of her legs. “You didn’t mean what, Felicia? To challenge me? To dare me to do what you’ve wanted me to do? What I’ve been dying to do since I first saw you?”

Eyes widening, Felicia stopped pushing and instead gripped his sides underneath his coat. She wasn’t aware how desperately she clung to him, or that her nails pinched into him, until he growled, “Yes, hang on to me. Pull me closer, baby.”

And she
was
pulling him closer.

Oh God, she thought, biting her lip to stifle a whimper. The combination of his dark voice and the press of his body was exquisite, and she couldn’t stop her hips from arching up toward him. Their clothes separated them, however, and she moaned out her frustration, wanting to feel his thick cock against her. Inside her. Filling her hand. Her body. Her mouth.

Noella had once told her how much Knox loved oral sex.

“No,” she gasped, trying to fight off the desire that was coursing through her body like a drug.

“Yes,” he snarled. He lowered his head and sipped at her neck with a gentle kiss, then raked his fangs against her ear. He shuddered, reminding her that when aroused, a vamp’s fangs were almost as sensitive as his cock. At the thought, Felicia felt herself cream her panties again, the wetness that had never disappeared, forcing her body to prepare for his penetration.

Dizzy with need, she choked out, “When you first saw me, I was with your wife. My best friend. Noella. Do you remember her?”

He stiffened, but didn’t raise his head. Blasts of heat hit her throat as he struggled to breathe. “Noella’s dead.”

She shook her head, not in denial since her friend’s death couldn’t be denied, but in hopelessness. Apparently, he felt it, too.

“Damn you.” He straightened and backed off, just a bit, until their bodies no longer touched. “Why you?” he whispered. “Why is it I can only feel this way with you?”

His pained question pierced her like a dagger. She shoved him away and he let her.

Somehow, with her body still empty and aching for him, that inexplicably angered her even more.

“I guess it’s your curse. But hey, you should have ‘doing without me’ down to a science by now. All you need to do is find a female with vampire blood and hope she lasts a little longer than the last one.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Felicia wished she could take them back.

It was a weird twist in the otherwise immortal vamp race that even as a female vamp gave life, she risked losing her own. Then the FBI had invented the vaccine, which had all but turned vamps into a dying race.

Loyalty to Noella had been a factor, but it was vampire frailty that had and always would keep them apart. His father’s betrayal fueled Knox’s loyalty to his vampire ancestry. It focused his duty to mate with a female of vampire blood and do his part in populating their clan. In despising his father’s weakness, Knox also despised the part of himself that shared his father’s blood. The human part. Whether he knew it or not, that meant some part of him would always despise
her
. Sometimes that hurt so bad she wanted to rail at the injustice of it all.

But as much as his nearness sometimes hurt her, her words shamed her. “I’m so sorry. That was a horrible thing . . .”

Her voice trailed off and she stared at Knox. He was looking at her unflinchingly, not with disappointment or recrimination as she’d expected. In fact, his expression had seemed to go deliberately blank—blank but for the faintest edge of guilt in their dark depths.

Unbidden, her eyes filled with tears. “You’ve already found her. Haven’t you?”

He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. “Felicia . . .” he murmured.

“Did you?” she demanded.

He nodded. “The Vamp Council has someone in mind, someone that can help unite our clan with those abroad.”

The hurt was almost debilitating. “And this someone,” she choked out. “She was the reason you and the children went to France?”

“Yes, but I’ve already explained everything to her, Felicia. Why we’d marry. That I’m in love with you. That the only times we’ll be together are to—”