ShiftingHeat (16 page)

“Nordheim’s operation is bigger than we thought,” Ann said.
“The police alerted us to a crate at LaGuardia today. It was heading upstate
and it had a vampire in it. A student from Speke University, to be precise.
Alive, though deeply traumatized. The abductors are still active, and I want
the bastards.”

Ann gave her attention to Andros. He wished she wouldn’t. A
feeling crept over him, from low down. He wasn’t going to like what she said
next.

“Andros, it’s getting too dangerous for you to go in as you
are now. You’re new to the field and you don’t have the skills that will keep
you hidden. You don’t have the knack of keeping your cover consistent, either
physically or mentally. So if we’re to use you in this mission, you have two
choices. You can stay at STORM and provide the backup we need, or you can go
into the field. But if you do that, you’ll either have to become what you’re
claiming to be or you’ll have to get out.”

“How?” he demanded. Yes, sure, he’d dropped his cover in
Serena’s office. “And who said so? Is there someone else there?”

Ann grimaced. “I can’t tell you. But I was informed by a
reliable source. It doesn’t have anything to do with this case, just someone I
know at the university who noticed the inconsistencies and worried about it. We
need constancy, Andros.”

“What about Faye? She’s not seen as a Talent in the
university.”

Ann glanced at Faye. “Her cover is solid. Likely because
she’s been doing it a lot longer than you.”

“I won’t stop now,” Faye said. “I can’t. I have to see this
through, find out who’s doing those hateful things to students and staff. I
enabled Nordheim to carry on his activities, and even though it isn’t my fault,
I want to make amends.”

“Then I won’t come in, either.” He wanted to care for her.
Protect her. Fuck, he
needed
to do it.

“I thought you’d say that.” The lines around Ann’s mouth
deepened, and just from that tiny sign, he knew this was going to be bad. “We
can temporarily disable you. As soon as you shape-shift, you’ll be cured, but
if you can hold off, you’ll stay as you once were. That way, if people read
you, they’ll see the disability, the real disability.”

She was right, he knew she was right. He’d felt his mental
cover slip several times today. If he’d been read by a hostile Talent, they’d
realize he was hiding something and they’d take him. After today’s events,
they’d be even more on the alert. “What do you want to do?”

“We can simulate your condition with drugs and a small
procedure. And they’ll have a lasting effect, so if you miss a few doses you
won’t immediately be cured. And, of course, you have to take cephalox.”

“Why?”

“If you shape-shift, you’ll revert the procedure. You’ll be
whole again. And although you’ve only been a shape-shifter for a short time,
you still have that instinct. You contact your dragon several times a day, whether
you realize it or not, and you have the shape-shifter’s instinct to change your
form in trouble. Even the thought will alert anyone who has a decent level of
telepathy. The drugs will suppress your sigil too.”

So he couldn’t shape-shift, even if he wanted to. That
scared him, hollowed his stomach then filled it with bile. It scared him a lot,
but what could he do? If Faye was going back, then so would he. “Do you really
think it’s necessary?”

“If you want to stay in the field. You’ll still have telepathy,
but that’s all.” Mortals had telepathy, but normally it was dormant. More of
them were working to bring the gift out, to develop it so they could
communicate with Talents and each other. If anyone discovered that ability in
him, he could explain it away.

Only one thing remained. “And I can be useful like that?”

Ann fixed him with one of her direct stares. He couldn’t
look away. “Your skills for STORM have never been those of your Talent. They’ve
been the skills of the mind. You can make links like nobody else, not even our
other hot researcher, Jack Hargreaves, who isn’t currently available in any
case. You have a devious mind, Andros, you make cases that way. You don’t miss
a trick. And that’s what I want you there for. To make the patterns, to penetrate
deep. You’ll be with Faye, who will act as your bodyguard. From now on you and
Faye are a team. I want this group rooted out, completely destroyed, and I need
someone like you for that.”

“Won’t it be dangerous to leave me vulnerable?” He was still
fighting but he knew she was right. And he wanted to get the fucks who’d killed
Serena if it wasn’t Nordheim. He wanted that badly.

“Sure it will,” Ann said, “but we’ll do our best to avert
that. No, Nick will be the bait. He’s replacing Serena in her job, but he is
going to be fully and blatantly what he is. If they want a Talent, they’ll go
for him.”

“Just watch the skies when I arrive for work,” Nick rumbled.

Chapter
Seven

Faye preferred not to think about the coming night, but
she’d never shirked any responsibility before. And staying with Andros was more
than a responsibility—it was a necessity.

Before Andros went in for the procedure, she had the chance
of a private moment with him. Only a short time, while the local anesthetic was
taking effect. “You shouldn’t do this. You can’t. Staying at STORM will be
better.”

He gripped her hand tight but kept his mind steady. “I’ve
been through procedures before, and I spent most of my life worse than this.
I’m not going to suffer constant pain and live with the knowledge that I’ll die
young. With a single bound, I can be free. Well, a couple of bounds, maybe.”

That had probably made him older than his years, despite her
initial thought that he appeared younger. Her admiration for him and what he had
done went up threefold. Tenfold. “You were so brave.”

He laughed. “That’s what they always used to say. It’s not
true. I just learned how to cope with something I couldn’t change. Sure, I got
desperate and did some stupid things looking for a cure. But I always knew it would
get me. The only thing you can do is to live each day to its utmost. Bravery is
facing something you don’t have to face, choosing to do it.” He closed his
mouth with a snap.

“Just like I said, only I’ll change the tense. You
are
brave.”

He grinned and leaned in to kiss her. That was when they’d
come to take him into surgery.

Despite his words, she couldn’t imagine how he’d coped. But
an hour after he’d woken from the procedure and dutifully taken the drugs that
the medics gave him, he lost the ability to walk without aid. He could stand
briefly, drag himself around on crutches, even take a couple of steps if he
steadied himself on a piece of furniture, but he couldn’t walk. It hurt to see
the strong, confident lover she’d known turn into a physical wreck, but she
understood his determination and admired him with a depth of devotion that
would have shocked him, had she let him know.

He insisted on recovering on his own, and while his decision
had hurt her, she understood. He needed time to cope with the change and he
wanted to set his mind to it. Best done alone.

At just after four a.m. the doctor came out of the room after
his final check. “You can go in now.”

They’d used an iso room, one of those white rooms that were
completely cut off from the world, after they’d come back from their trip to
the hospital. No psi contact, and with the door sealed, no physical contact,
either. He’d asked for it, so he could recover in complete solitude. That was a
sign that some of the mortal thinking still remained. Talents detested
solitude, but mortals sometimes sought it.

She felt his pain as soon she walked into the room, felt it
when she closed the door even more. Physical and mental. Brave again, to let
her see it, let her view his vulnerability.

He caressed her mind in welcome. “I wish I’d had telepathy
before. It’s very useful for a cripple.”

“I hate it when you call yourself that.”

His mouth twisted as he tried to smile and didn’t make it.
“It means other people can’t call me a cripple first. I’m used to it. And it’s
what I am.”

“It’s cruel. Ann Reynolds shouldn’t do this to you.” Perhaps
she’d been right all along about STORM.

He shook his head. “No, she’s right. This is what I am, deep
down. I’ve been a dragon for less than a year. Before that, I had the mindset of
a dying man. I still have in some ways. I have a morbid sense of humor, I work
like every day is my last. I still brace myself on my arms before I stand. Or
hadn’t you noticed?”

“No.” Too busy ogling him, sharing abandoned lovemaking with
him. Yes, even that was the act of a man who knew his tomorrows were limited.
So in a way he was right. She recognized the phenomenon. Knew it to be true.
“So Ann made you what you were.”

“Because it fits. Don’t get me wrong, with one shape-shift I
can shake this off. I persuaded them to reduce the cephalox they’ve given me to
the bare minimum. It’s fantastic knowing that. The mild dose of cephalox is
enough to make it hard to convert, so I really have to mean it. They don’t
realize that shape-shifting is the oddity for me. I have to think hard every
time I shape-shift.”

He shrugged and winced. She felt his twinge of pain.

“Having Becker’s is more than not being able to walk. It
affects all the body, weakens the muscles, makes it hard to retain control.
Look.” He lifted his hand from the arm of his chair. It trembled before he put
it back. “The drugs cause that. And because I had the condition, I have the
mindset that goes with it. The people we’re looking for won’t believe I’m a
shape-shifter, and they won’t take me seriously. So although I work at STORM,
they’ll believe I’m mortal, that I’m what I seem to be.”

“I can’t bear it.”

He sighed and held out his hand to her. She took it, sat on
the hard plastic chair set next to him and shoved aside the cradle holding the
bag that had pumped poison into his veins. Only a bandage stuck across the back
of his hand showed where it had entered his body. She grasped his hand. It felt
the same.

“I’ll hack into the university computer system,” he told
her. “There are teams here looking at Serena’s pupil list, especially the
students she tutored. They’ll send me a list.” And I’ll have you. The most
gorgeous bodyguard a man could ever wish for.” He leaned in for a kiss.

That felt the same too and when she opened her mouth for
him, he took advantage, tasting her at his leisure. She returned the favor. He
tasted slightly different, but still Andros, still this remarkable man she was
letting in so deep she didn’t know if she’d ever be happy without him.

He drew back. “Pass me the crutches, will you?”

He got to his feet with the help of the table. It squeaked.
She turned away and grabbed the crutches she’d brought down from his apartment,
handing them to him and watching as he deftly pushed his forearms into the
cuffs and balanced. He stared at her. He seemed shorter like this, his stance
adjusted to account for the nearly useless legs. But he was still Andros.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said very softly. “We might
have to pretend to be together, but don’t feel you have to.”

“I don’t.” She kissed him again. Because she wanted to.

He kissed her back, although he pulled away again. He stared
at her, his eyes wide. So blue, as if he held the world in there. “Thanks. But—”

“Shut up.” She curled her hand around the back of his neck
and dragged him closer, preparing to bear all his weight if she took him off
balance. Close, he felt strong, warm, perfect. Her mouth met his and she didn’t
care anymore. Not for anyone or anything outside this room.

She touched his lips with her tongue, traced the shape and
he opened as if he could do nothing else. She tasted him, slowly, carefully,
slid her tongue along his, circled it, caressed it. And eventually he
responded. Caressed her back, let her explore his mouth while he explored hers.
He cupped the back of her head, his crutch clanging against the table
disregarded by both of them.

When she kissed Andros, she felt perfection touch her.
Sweet, delicious, and she needed nothing else. Everything she’d done in her
life, the restlessness that had chased her down the years, disappeared when she
kissed him, when he touched her. So good.

She didn’t want to stop but they couldn’t stay here much
longer. They separated slowly and he brought his hand down, propping his
support against the floor. “They’ll come in soon,” he murmured. “They’ll ask me
if I’m all right, if they can do anything for me, get me a meal, help me to my
apartment. They do that when you’re disabled. They don’t understand. But you
do, don’t you?”

“That you’re scared you’ll grow dependent too soon? You’ll
need people to do things for you? Yes, I know.”

“How?”

“I lost my parents when I was ten. Everyone was very kind
when they disappeared, so kind I wanted to scream at them, tell them to get the
hell away from me. It’s like that, isn’t it?”

“Something like that.”

In perfect accord, they left the room. They couldn’t hold
hands but they moved together when the doctor asked him if he’d be okay, and
Ann asked him if he wanted her to call a catering service and have a meal sent.
They assured everyone they’d be fine and they went together to his apartment.

The minute he closed the door, Andros let out a long sigh of
relief. “Weird,” he said. “But this feels normal.”

She turned in the act of going through the hallway to the
bathroom. “You spent most of your life like this. Just go with the flow. I
thought I’d pour you a bath.”

He grinned. ”Bless you. But I really want a shower. Just
water pouring over me. There’s a chair in the bathroom, a plastic one. Can you
put it in the shower stall?”

She did as he asked, her heart aching for him. He’d lived
like this, knowing he had little chance of a cure. He’d seen his sister
transform into a powerful being, a change that would have cured him and yet,
when he spoke of her or even thought of her, she’d never detected jealousy or
resentment. She didn’t know if she could have kept that completely away, in the
same circumstances.