Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (44 page)

Liz called in her witch friend to work
another glamour spell, which was accomplished quickly and
professionally. The witch’s name was Claudia, and she looked more
like a business executive than a traditional witch, dressed in a
designer suit and too-high heels. Apparently, she'd come directly
from work. Gene, who'd morphed to look a lot like a popular movie
star, managed to get her to expand the spell to include the parking
lot. As she was finishing up, Gene strolled over to Mack and
Ingrid, his expression serious.

"We need to wipe the
witch’s memories."
He and Gene turned to
Ingrid, who'd morphed into a burly Hispanic man.

"No. She's a friend
of
Liz, Tom, and Johnny
.

"We can't take a
chance,"
Gene said.
“If she’s captured…”

Ingrid frowned at
Gene.
"Can't you do it? She's all ready to
give you her H-tab code, directions to her house and maybe even her
bra size."

Gene smiled as he shook
his head.
"You've been practicing this
shit for years. Do you want me to fuck up her mind?"
He glanced at the witch.
"She's a 34C."

Mack laughed, then covered his mouth
when he noticed Ingrid’s glare.

"Fine. But if you two
think I'm gonna be spending my time and my energy cleaning up
memories and psy-looping street thetas, you'd better forget
it."

"Oh yeah, we forgot.
You're the mighty kick-ass huntress who's taking down Dr. D, single
handed."

"You can laugh now, but
that's what all the history scans will say."
Ingrid lifted her chin, re-morphing into a good-looking guy,
before walking to the witch. She smiled at the woman and introduced
herself as a friend of the guy Gene was pretending to be. A few
minutes later, the young witch drove off in her late model Audi, a
satisfied grin on her face and no memory of what she'd just done or
for whom she’d done it.

When the building was both secure and
officially theirs, the fun started. The already exhausted group of
thetas had to lug everything inside, which took a while. There were
two working elevators, thank the gods, but the building only had
emergency power and they decided not to waste using the elevator on
the stuff that could be carried easily up the stairs.

A former office building,
photographer’s studio and residence, the building’s floor plan was
pretty straightforward. The first floor had a large lobby,
restrooms, and a few large offices. The second and third floors
contained more offices and a conference room. The fourth and fifth
floor were more like loft spaces with balconies and enormous
windows.

“Who owned this building? It’s great,”
Ingrid asked, wandering around the second floor.

“A human company that moved to a more
stable neighborhood,” Gene answered, rubbing his neck. They were
all exhausted.

Mack poked his head into the large
conference room. “This building has a lot of potential.”

“This is a bad neighborhood?” Ingrid
asked, threading her arm around Mack’s waist.

Johnny collapsed into a folding chair.
“There’s a wolf pack in Travis and a vampire nest in Westerleigh,
but neither one of them causes the theta population any trouble.
Their alpha and master vamp are low on the power grid and are
struggling to keep their people alive like the rest of us. I think
it’s perfect.”

“I don’t recommend wandering the
streets at night.” Gene said.

“Why are you looking at me?” Ingrid’s
feathers were ruffling.

“Because you’re the one most likely to
go out there and hand out cash and granola bars,” Gene
teased.

“No. I have to save my money now. We
need it to help our fellow thetas.”

“And humans,” Staci added. “They’re
suffering the most.”

Everyone picked out sleeping areas.
Gene decided the top floor would be his base and no one argued with
him about it. Ingrid and Mack made a nest on the fourth floor loft,
because of the balcony, and the others chose to stick together on
the third floor, all of them exhausted, grumpy, and
scared.

CHAPTER FORTY

The next morning, Ingrid and Mack
returned to consciousness twisted around each other on the small
mattress they’d hauled upstairs the day before. Ingrid’s leg was
draped over his thigh, her head on his shoulder, his arms securely
holding her in place. Ingrid squirmed, enjoying the feel of his
warm body pressed firmly against her own.

Mack opened one eye, the other one
still hidden by his pillow. “You’ll be sorry if you keep that up.”
One of his hands slid down to her ass, squeezing one cheek and then
the other.

“Keeping it up is the point.” She
pushed her knee closer to his groin, but he was already standing at
attention.

“I was hoping you’d say
that.”

Without any further encouragement,
Ingrid crawled on top of his prone body, straddling his hips.
Sitting up, she slid onto his erection so, so slowly, enjoying
every long, hard inch. Mack grunted, moving his hands to her hips,
but didn’t force her to quicken the pace of her descent. “You’re
rather stiff this morning,” she teased.

Ingrid wore one of his tee shirts, a
band named The Dark Forgotten, screen-printed across her chest. He
picked up the hem, sliding a hand over her abs, tweaking both
nipples. She gasped, so he did it again. Mack slipped a hand
between her legs, circling her with a skilled finger.

“You’re rather wet this morning,
love.”

She gasped when his finger found a
particularly delicious spot. “Might I expect this kind of treatment
every morning?”

“Every morning I’m
breathing.”

When he’d filled her completely, she
met his lips with hers, her tongue demanding entrance so it could
dance in his mouth the way his cock danced inside her body. The
kiss was the kind that curled a female’s toes, passionate and
loving. She whispered against his ear. “I dreamt you had me tied
up.” She clenched the muscles surrounding his cock, punctuating her
confession.

“Mm. I’m putting in an order for a
four poster and some handcuffs.”

“Dozens of possibilities.” Ingrid
started to move, undulating to create the most perfect
friction.

“So much better than breakfast.” Mack
kissed her palm, her wrist, her elbow—each kiss heating her
skin.

Ingrid giggled. “I’ll give you an hour
before you’re complaining about how hungry you are.”

Mack leaned up, taking one of her
nipples into his mouth, sucking hard, licking, and nibbling. She
arched backwards, resting her hands on his muscled thighs. “Oh,
god…” An intense tightness was building low in her belly, her
vagina slick with arousal.

He blew on the wet, puckered nipple,
drawing her heated gaze. “If I get hungry, I can always eat
you.”

Ingrid returned his very wicked smile.
“Let’s skip breakfast.”

An hour later, they shared a shower,
still tingling from the afterglow of super sex. Ingrid suggested
sitting on the balcony, so they placed one folding chair on the
cement deck and Mack sat, drawing her into his lap. The view was
nothing extraordinary, only the narrow channel and the more
industrial side of New Jersey, but it was peaceful, private, and
perfect.

“What do you think of our new
accommodations, Trogg?” Ingrid thought the huge room had a lot of
potential as a terrific apartment for the two of them, although it
could be divided in half to provide living space for another couple
with no problem. The floors were hardwood, and there was a bathroom
with a shower, a small kitchen area, and a windowless room that
would make a great closet.

But right now, the fourth floor was
their hideaway and Ingrid was determined to enjoy every minute of
their time alone.

“So I’m Trogg again, huh?”

“You were very Troggy a few minutes
ago.” She kissed his cheek. “And I loved every manly
grunt.”

“I’d live in a cave, if you were there
with me.”

“Very romantic, but where would you
really like to live?” Ingrid kissed his palm, clutching his hand to
her heart.

“In a boat, so we could see the
world.”

“Hmph. With archdemons running it, I
doubt there’s much left to see.”

“Gene told me the sisters are more
reasonable.”

“What, like they actually make sure
humans have enough to eat? Everyone gets paid fair
wages?”

“Pull your head out of your ass,
honey,” Mack grinned.

“What is it with you and my ass?” she
teased back.

“It’s abundantly round and soft and…”
Ingrid glared indignantly. “Think whatever you want, but I’ve had
my hands all over that delicious melon.”

“You…” She started to stand, but he
pulled her back down.

He was laughing now. “Okay, okay. It’s
perfection, can I say that?”

“Yes.”

“Good. To answer your question, I’ve
always wanted to live on some private beach. Somewhere it doesn’t
snow. I hate the cold.”

She shivered in the cool early morning
air. Later, it would be in the low nineties, but wrapped in only a
towel, she was feeling the cold.

“Let’s get dressed. The meeting will
be soon, and there’s a small chance the herd has saved us
something.”

“At least coffee.”

The building wasn’t really ready to be
lived in. They wouldn’t have full power until the following day, so
the emergency generator was being used only for dim lighting and
for the one full-sized refrigerator in the small kitchen outside
the second floor conference room. They had a dozen flashlights,
three cases of batteries, and a couple of lanterns, thanks to Tom’s
practical mind. He’d even stocked the kitchen with milk, yogurt,
cereal, bananas, bagels and cream cheese, as well as coffee. Ingrid
was in heaven.

“Thank you Tom. You’re a
prince.”

“It was Alan, too.” Tom pointed toward
the former APM, sitting at the end of the table, a little
lost.

“Of course. Thanks, Alan.”

He smiled the way most young men
smiled at Ingrid. “You’re welcome.” Ingrid picked the seat next to
his and he practically glowed.

Once they were all assembled for the
eleven a.m. meeting, Gene began. "As of today, we have a base of
operations—maybe a little sooner than expected, but I think it's
perfectly adequate. We're close to the Bayonne Bridge and also the
channel, in case we have to sneak out of town quickly. It might be
advisable to eventually purchase a small boat and keep it stocked
and ready to go. We can have the witch glamour it to hide
it."

Johnny seemed enthusiastic about the
new place. "We can fit twenty or thirty more people
downstairs."

Gene frowned. "I'm sorry, man, but
this is not another safe house." Johnny started to protest, but
Gene interrupted him. "Our safety is not negotiable. We're locking
this place down and keeping traffic to a minimum, for security's
sake. We'll find another house to replace your old one."

Staci raised her hand in an
old-fashioned gesture. "We’ll be setting up a clinic on the first
floor, correct?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea,"
Gene said, frowning.

Her voice became more
insistent. "There's
lots
of room on the first floor and there's even an
entrance straight in from the back. We'd use it for emergencies
only. I can organize it with Sam."

“I’ll help,” Ingrid
offered.

Gene twisted his mouth in irritation.
“Our security…”

Staci interrupted. "We need to do
something to gain their trust. Street thetas are not going to
believe we want to help them without some kind of proof. A clinic
would be a good start."

Mack spoke up. "I agree with Staci. It
also supplies us with a place to get quick medical attention if any
of us are injured in the field."

Gene looked at their determined
expressions and gave in. "Okay, I can go along with the emergency
clinic idea, but it can't be announced to the theta population.
We’ll have a line at the door.”

Alan was standing near the window. “We
can set up a communications network. Each safe house or
neighborhood group will choose a representative to contact if
there’s an emergency. That person can have a secure way to reach
one us.”

Gene held up a hand to stop him from
continuing. “We need another layer. The neighborhood rep will have
a way to reach a top tier rep, one who’s passed regular mental
screenings by a troupe theta. That second representative will have
a way to reach one of the people at the clinic.”

“The injured person could be dead by
then,” Alan grumbled.

Gene shot him a hard look. “Better
than all the rest of us being dead.”

“We’ll run practice drills to make it
fluid. It should work,” Mack said. “I like it.”

Ingrid smiled to see her guys working
together to save the world, but she realized for the first time
what a huge responsibility Gene had shouldered. It was up to the
rest of them to pitch in wherever they could, otherwise he might
burn out. Or worse, the job might change him in a bad
way.