Taming the Fire (7 page)

Trance hadn't bothered with the medic—his skin would heal faster than he'd like anyway, and he'd need to keep the wounds open so Rik could track him. And she would—he was sure of it.

He wasn't sure if his psyche would heal all that well, though. His ass burned from the wand she'd used and his balls ached, still sore and heavy in a way that was supposed to remind him he'd been used—and used well.

It only served to remind him that he could never totally give himself up to another person—or animal—like that. His will was strong but his body was stronger, would resist until he broke the bonds and hurt someone. Maybe even himself.

The beast inside of him was angry and strangely satiated.

In the relative safety of the town house ACRO had rented for him, he stripped off his shirt and attempted to calm himself down.

He'd been with ACRO for four years—had been pulled out of the military at twenty-eight, after hearing about the agency from an unidentified source who called to tell him that there were others like him. That he could have a home and continue to help people. That he didn't have to hide his skills all the time.

It had been an invitation he'd resisted, up until two Convincers—also excedos—had come to get him and bring him in by force. From that day on he'd literally never spoken his given family name again—that was locked up tightly with the ACRO files, along with everything else from his past. He'd been on his own for so long that even the military, with its camaraderie, hadn't been able to spark him away from his loneliness. Which was why he'd embraced MP work once he realized the isolation didn't lend itself to making connections. He wasn't supposed to connect with the prisoners anyway, and the other MPs typically burned out after a few years working the prison scene and moved on to combat duty.

No family, few friends and a gift of freakish strength that kept him from even the simplest of relationships that didn't include control.

He'd never known his father and Trance always wondered just how big a piece of his own genetic puzzle the man really was—imagined, when he was still a very young boy, that his father would walk back into his life and fix everything. It never happened and he spent a lot of time vacillating between hating the man and wishing to hell he could find him. In fact, he'd asked the ACRO people to look into tracking his father down, but so far they'd had no luck.

Growing up, he used to tell people that his dad was a secret agent—a powerful man who helped the world. Of course, he got the irony in the fact that today he himself was a secret agent who helped the world.

Trance's mom was only sixteen when she'd had him—she refused to say anything more about his father than to call him
the bastard who left me
. He was only ten years old when she died of a drug overdose. He'd been sure that somehow his father would know this, would finally come forward to claim him.

He didn't and Trance, having been deserted by both parents, was moved around from cousin to aunt to other distant relatives, mainly because he always seemed to get into trouble without meaning to. At the time, he didn't know—or understand—his own strength. Being the new kid at school, he'd always end up in fights.

For as long as he could remember, women couldn't get enough of him, and for a while, he contented himself with the D/s scene. As much as it entailed trust, it also allowed him to keep most women at arm's length.

Now he was inviting one inside. Literally, inside.

He ripped at the scratches on his chest again, not allowing the skin around them to pucker and close. A thin line of blood seeped out and he tried to regain his composure and remember where he'd hidden the tranq gun Kira had given him before he'd left for London.

In case the beast comes out
.

According to ACRO's intel, Rik couldn't control the beast once it had emerged. It would attack and feed on anything and everything in its path. That's what made her such a danger to society. It was also why ACRO wanted to try to harness that power. In the right hands, Rik was an asset.

But with that damned collar on, she was a loose cannon. And she was headed directly to his lair.

The problem was, he'd been warned not to use the tranq on her unless she was already chained—with
her
chains, the ones she no doubt had at her apartment, the ones that she would use to control herself when the beast attempted to come out. Since Rik was one of a kind, the vets and docs at ACRO had no idea if the tranq would work at all, and they wanted safety measures in place.

Which was why Trance was at once predator and prey.

His muscles tensed and he stretched them out, felt where he'd been bound hard earlier. And although he knew the knock at his door would be coming, it still made him jump.

He opened the door with his heart pounding, prepared to do whatever he needed to do to subdue the beast, and found Rik on the other side. One look in her eyes and he saw the beast fighting for control. But the woman, she was still there.

Without saying a word, he moved to the side and she strode in, still in her thigh-high boots, a long leather coat swishing around her legs as she moved.

“I came to check on you. To make sure you were all right,” she purred, the sound making his cock harden and twitch in seconds. He'd been in a half-aroused state since he'd left the dungeon, despite the intense orgasm.

“I'm all right.”

“Why do you keep lying to me, boy? I know you enjoyed yourself tonight, but I also know you're far from fine.” She raised her head slightly, closed her eyes and breathed in. The wounds on his chest were closing quickly now that he'd left them alone, but not quick enough. The struggle for control poured off her in waves.

He wanted those mile-long legs wrapped around his waist, wanted his cock so deep inside her that she couldn't think of her collar or the beast—couldn't think of anyone or anything beyond him. And as he wondered where the hell that urge came from, she pushed against him with a flat palm to his chest. She was adrenaline-filled, stronger than she'd been at the club, and he smelled the power and the fear wafting off her skin.

Once he closed the door, she hooked her hand around the back of his neck to pull him close. He complied because that's what she wanted, what she expected.

He complied because he no longer knew what he needed anymore.

U
LRIKA WAS
going to kiss him.

She'd only kissed one other man, an Itor Seducer whose job it had been to train her in the sensual arts. Her time with Masanao had been pleasant—he had been one of the few people at Itor to show her kindness. But ultimately, she'd been a job to him, and he'd been a welcome break from the experiments and tests that seemed to go on twenty-four seven.

Now there were no tests, no Itor and no sex club. Just Trance and his stark flat, and his lips an inch away from hers.

She hesitated at the last moment. She didn't remember getting here, didn't truly understand why she'd come. In her culture, blood was sacred—not to be drawn lightly. And never, ever did one draw blood without a life-or-death reason. You either killed what you'd bloodied… or you mated with it.

Until Trance opened the door, she truly hadn't been sure what she'd intended. The beast wanted to finish off what it had injured. The woman… well, she might want sex, but a true Blooded Mating, complete with a ritual to bond them together in marriage? Not so much. Oh, she wanted that, but she had long ago given up the dream.

“Kiss me, Rik.”

“Yes…” She brushed her lips across Trance's hard, firm mouth—and then realized he'd given her another order. And she'd followed it. With a curse, she shoved away from him. “You do not speak like that to me.”

A flash of some emotion she couldn't name crossed his face, and then he was in hers, one hand gripping her upper arm with gentle strength. “We aren't at the club. You're in my house now.”

Alarm tripped through her. God, this had been stupid. She shouldn't have come here, shouldn't have risked letting him take the upper hand. That she didn't remember getting here didn't matter. It was just more proof that she couldn't control herself and shouldn't be making any kind of attempt to live around humans. She should have made her way to the wilderness a long time ago, let the beast reign, survive or die as nature willed it.

“Remove your hand,” she ground out. “Or you lose it.”

“And then what?” He leaned in, so close his lips brushed her ear. “Will you let me do to you what I said earlier? Will you let me spank your pretty little ass, or will I have to just take the initiative?”

She didn't have a chance to so much as gasp in outrage, because he spun her, took her down to the floor on her belly. His arm came around to take the brunt of the impact, but then he was straddling her thighs and pushing her coat up around her waist. He left her skirt covering her butt, but his warm palm came down hard on one cheek.

“Don't,” she yelled, even as a shock of pleasure lit into her. “Please. I—I can't.”

“I seem to recall saying the same thing.” His hand came down again. “And you didn't listen. So why should I?”

“You don't… you don't understand.” Oh, no… no, no, no… inside, the fury was building. She had to get away from him.

As if he knew, he shifted his weight and eased his big body over hers, pinning her. Strangely, it was a comforting hold, not restraining, the latter of which would have had the beast exploding out of her skin.

“Make me understand.” He nuzzled the back of her neck while stroking her arm, and she felt herself loosen up as the beast settled down, warily, as if it were trying to decide if it liked being petted or not. It definitely hadn't liked being spanked, and tension vibrated her organs even as her muscles relaxed.

“I can't explain,” she whispered.

He rested his forehead on her shoulder and sighed. “I know what it's like, you know. To need the control because you've got something inside that's always fighting you. Always haunting you. Sometimes, you just have to let someone help.”

“Is that why you've come to me? For help?”

“Yeah.” His voice was rough, and she squeezed her eyes shut as if that would close off her ears too. She didn't want to hear any kind of emotion from a man she needed to stay away from.

“Well, I don't need any help. So let me up.”

“Only if you promise to see me again.”

She jerked in surprise. “Fuck, no.”

“Why not?”

“Let. Me. Up.”
She began to buck as panic frayed the edges of her control. Trance put more weight on her, and squeezed her thighs between his strong ones, effectively immobilizing her lower body.

“Give me a reason, Rik,” he said smoothly, as if he gentled wild animals for a living and knew exactly what tone to use. “Make it a good one.”

A sob fell from her lips, a humiliating sound she hadn't made in front of another human being in years. “Too many reasons,” she said, wishing she could be more specific. She was too dangerous, too damaged, too scared.

Too
not
human.

“That's not good enough.”

“Damn you,” she croaked. She began to tremble, so afraid she was going to shift into a monster and tear him apart. “Please.
Please!”

He inhaled raggedly and rolled off her. Immediately, she tried to scramble away, but he dragged her into his arms. The sheer pleasure of being held took the fight out of her momentarily, and she let herself just sink into him, feeling broken and so very tired as tears spilled onto her cheeks, and his shoulder.

Several minutes later, she realized she was crying. On a client. Whom she'd had no business hunting down. Son of a bitch, she was weak. She tore out of his grip, struggling with the half of her that wanted to rip out his throat for daring to touch her. When he reached for her, she hissed, spun on her knees and slapped him hard across the face.

“Don't touch me,” she growled. “Don't ever touch me again.”

She left him sitting on the floor, the startled expression on his face branded in her mind. She felt so torn in half, angry yet sorry for hitting him, joyful at the moment of comfort he'd given her, yet fiercely pissed off for allowing it.

Making matters worse, she had a feeling he wasn't going to let this go. Running off to her flat wasn't going to be enough. She needed to give notice at the club and move on.

She definitely had to get away from him.