Onset of Danger Read online

  Onset of Danger

  Aubrey Ross

  Sworn Protectors, Book Two

  Wounded and in chains, the last thing Bronik expects when he crash-lands on Earth is to be interrogated by the most desirable woman he has ever seen. Each lash of her whip and searing sensation only makes him more determined to taste her blood and feel her tremble beneath him as he explores every curve of her amazing body. He doesn’t have long to wait because his interrogator soon becomes his captive.

  When Eloise is rescued from certain death by her handsome enemy, she’s infuriated and relieved. He’s determined to learn the location of her brother’s research lab before her brother succeeds in creating a powerful vampire hybrid. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know the lab’s location—and Bronik seems more interested in stimulating her senses than probing her mind.

  Inside Scoop: Lots of wicked BDSM and a brief ménage, in addition to a scene of forced sex.

  A Romantica® sci-fi erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Onset of Danger

  Aubrey Ross

  Prologue

  Hunger tore through Bronik’s body, twisting his stomach and buckling his knees. Metal cuffs bit into his wrists and ankles, burning through his lethargy. He welcomed the pain, using its cleansing fire to clear away the cobwebs from his mind.

  Earth. Despite an attempted mutiny, the ship he’d served aboard had reached its intended destination. If crashing into the planet could be considered a legitimate arrival.

  Their mission had seemed simple enough—observe, assess and advise. The war raging on Strigoia Prime had taken its toll on the population, leaving High King Alta with two alternatives. He could either find an off-world site where he could banish political prisoners or locate a new home for those rich and powerful enough to merit evacuation. This trip to Earth was supposed to have determined which alternative made more sense.

  Forcing his sluggish body to obey, Bronik centered his feet beneath him and straightened his legs. The pressure on his wrists lessened until only an annoying throb remained. There was enough give in the cables to allow him to kneel, but not enough to let him sit down. He’d been stripped of everything but his uniform pants. Even his feet were bare.

  He needed to think, to analyze the situation and determine a course of action. He was obviously a prisoner, but who held him captive and why had he been separated from the other survivors?

  He blinked, unable to penetrate the darkness. When he’d regained consciousness the first time, he’d been in some sort of clinic, surrounded by other members of the crew. Kristof, his little brother, had been awake as well, but everyone else had been chemically sedated or held within a powerful thrall.

  This was Kristof’s first off-world mission. A lump formed in Bronik’s throat, making it hard to swallow. Kris had been so proud to be chosen as a member of Prince Alexi’s crew. This mission was important. That’s why Alexi insisted on leading the expedition himself. But they’d been betrayed, their objectives obliterated before they ever touched down on Earth.

  Now the name of the game was survival.

  Refusing to give in to grief or fear, Bronik accepted the calming wave his symbionts triggered. There were definite advantages to hosting the microscopic organisms living in his blood. He provided them with a nutrient-rich environment and they imbued him with strength, speed and the ability to manipulate minds. He could also teleport. When he wasn’t weak as a baby.

  But every advantage had its price and symbionts were no different. To maintain the level of nutrition necessary to sustain his tiny passengers, he had to feed on fresh blood, directly from a living source whenever possible. The symbiotic relationship also made hosts extremely allergic to ultraviolet light. Sunlight quickly drained his strength and escalated his need for fresh blood.

  A door directly across from him swung open and a woman stood silhouetted in the threshold. Tall and lean with graceful curves boldly outlined by her formfitting garments, she just stood there for a moment while he struggled to find enough energy to increase the illumination in his eyes.

  “You put up quite a fight. Took three of my guards out of commission for a day or two.” She moved into the room and the door swung shut behind her. “Are you always such a pain in the ass?”

  “Always.” His throat was so dry he could barely form the word.

  For a moment they were enveloped in darkness, silky and heavy with anticipation. Then brilliant beams stabbed into his eyes from the corners of the perfectly square room. His eyes burned and the pounding in his head intensified. Nausea surged, momentarily driving back his hunger. He squinted and turned his head from side to side but there was no escape from the punishing brightness.

  “What’s your name?” Her voice was surprisingly pleasant, well-modulated with just a touch of husky purr.

  “What would you like it to be?”

  She circled him, offering him glimpses of her features as she moved in and out of the beams of light. “How many were in your crew? We want to make sure we have all the survivors.”

  Flashes of memory tormented his mind. Twisted metal, fire and screams of pain. He sucked in a breath, fighting back fury and anguish as the images clarified. Prince Alexi had done everything in his power to minimize the casualties. They all had, but still so many died.

  Vladya! His focus snapped back to his interrogator as her scent reached his nose. His Strigo symbionts raced through his bloodstream, stimulating his body as they recognized their enemy. His heart pounded and strength flowed back into his arms and legs. He would not come all this way only to die at the hands of the same ruthless hosts who were decimating his home world.

  There were four symbiotic strains, each similar yet distinct. They all lived in the bloodstream of humanoid hosts and each empowered their host with a different skill set. Strigo strain was oldest and most powerful. Its primary abilities were mind control and infiltrating dreams. Vladya hosts could manipulate energy, siphoning it from others or forming concentrated balls that could be thrown at an enemy. They were warriors, ruthless and ambitious. Levari hosts were unpredictable and volatile. The most powerful Levari could shapeshift, but their abilities fluctuated wildly depending on the tolerance of the host. And then there were the Rom. Secretive and psychic. They could sense emotions and foretell the future. Rom hosts were extremely useful, when one was strong enough to control them.

  Pausing directly in front of Bronik, his captor put her hands on her hips and looked him up and down. “This will only be as unpleasant as you make it. Remember that.”

  Were Strigo and Vladya strains at war here on Earth? Bronik wasn’t sure if anyone had considered the possibility. Recon teams were sent every ten years to assess the progress and integration of the hosts. First contact with Earth had been established by a group of rebels nearly five centuries ago, so Strigoian leaders felt responsible for their actions. To Bronik’s knowledge none of the recon teams had reported any significant hostility between the earthbound strains. General resentment and mistrust were expected, but hosts were so vastly outnumbered by humans it made more sense to at least attempt to get along.

  His eyes finally adjusted to the contrast of painful light and dense shadow, allowing him to see her clearly for the first time. Rather than flowing across her shoulders and down her back, as was the custom on Strigoia Prime, her short dark hair created a sleek frame for her delicate features. Highly arched brows accented her expressive eyes. Their depths combined brown and red into a color both unusual and alluring. She wore more makeup than he generally preferred, but the dramatic effect coordinated well with her fetish-inspired garments.

  “What was a ship full of Strigo hosts doing in Vladya territory?”

  He watched her cherry-red lips form the words and barely compreh
ended their meaning. He wanted to nibble on those lips, see if they tasted as sweet as they looked. “I’m pretty sure you know this wasn’t our destination.”

  One corner of her mouth quirked as she turned her face away. Unable to resist the temptation, he let his gaze slide down along her slender neck and across her shoulders. Her pale skin contrasted sharply with her solid-black garments. Translucent lace covered her arms, while a front-lacing corset sculpted her torso and lifted her breasts. His gaze lingered on the tempting ivory mounds as he slowly licked his lips. Were her nipples pink or brown? Would they pucker beneath his tongue or grow flushed and puffy?

  The ridged handle of a leather whip raised his chin until his gaze returned to her face. “My eyes are up here.”

  “Shouldn’t show them off if you don’t want them admired.”

  Her only response was a quick glare before she went on, “Who are you?”

  “Anyone you want me to be.”

  With mesmerizing grace she stepped back and swung the whip. The lash struck the center of his chest, sending fire crawling across his skin like venomous webbing. “Each time I find your answer inaccurate, my response will be the same.”

  “That wasn’t ‘inaccurate’. I can be anyone you want me to be. Tender lover or ruthless master. Just tell me what you want so I can play my part.”

  “This isn’t a game.” She accented the statement with another snap of her whip, but he was ready this time and easily absorbed the sensation, gradually converting the pain into pleasure.

  “Keep them coming, love.” He shivered and let the tips of his fangs peek out between his parted lips. “Nothing stirs me up faster than a well-aimed whip.” He shifted his hips, displaying the rapidly growing bulge at the front of his pants.

  “You’re hungry. That’s understandable. I’ll send in a feeder as soon as you answer my questions.” Her expression was watchful now, no longer the cold mask she’d hidden behind before. “If you haven’t tasted human blood yet, you’ll find it intoxicating.”

  “Why’d you shoot down our ship?”

  Her brows drew together as genuine confusion crept over her expression. “Your ship crashed before we arrived. We presumed there’d been some sort of malfunction.”

  He knew exactly what had brought down the ship, or should he say who, but he had no intention of sharing the information with a treacherous Vladya bitch, regardless of how fuckable he found her. “If you know our intentions weren’t hostile, why am I in chains?”

  “I know your arrival didn’t go as planned, but I’ve yet to determine your intentions. So you’ll remain my prisoner until I’m certain you’re no threat to Vladya strain.”

  “I host Strigo strain. I will always be a threat to Vladya.” He paused, making sure he had her full attention. “But I don’t strike unless I’m provoked. If you want honest answers, release these cuffs.”

  She slowly coiled the whip and set it aside. “Is the young one your brother? One of the healers told me you were very protective of him.”

  “It’s my nature to be protective. Why have you sedated everyone? Their wounds will heal faster if they can feed.”

  She moved closer, curvy hips rolling beneath leather pants. “I know you’re hungry too. Answer a few questions and I’ll bring you a variety of eager feeders, female, male. Whatever you want.”

  He stilled, caressing her with his gaze as his voice dropped to a rough whisper. “I want to feed from your pussy while you suck my cock.”

  Anger flared in her eyes and her hand flew at his face. He turned his head and caught her wrist with his mouth, securely anchoring his fangs in her flesh.

  She shrieked but wisely kept her arm still and very little of her blood escaped the wounds. “Have you lost your fucking mind? I host Vladya strain, you fool! My blood will kill you.” She tugged on his hair then stomped on his bare instep. He grunted but maintained his hold on her wrist. “Let. Go.” She placed her free thumb over his eye, the threat needing no explanation.

  Retracting his fangs with a muffled laugh, he freed her captive wrist. “I’m a pureblood Strigo host. Do you honestly think my symbionts can’t handle a few Vladya intruders?” He licked his lips and savored her unique taste. Sweet and complex, there was an element to her blood he’d never encountered before. “You’re an initiated human, aren’t you?” Her only response was to bend forward and draw a long, thin blade from her boot, giving him a delightful view of her cleavage in the process. “Tell your master I’m insulted that he didn’t question me himself. I never deal with anyone who isn’t of pure blood.”

  She ignored his demand and averted her face, expression rather dazed. A bright flush crept across her pale cheeks and down her throat. He’d only meant to rattle her cage, not fire up her desire. Strigo symbionts liked to use sexual frenzy to overpower reluctant feeders, but this woman was a host and his bite had only lasted a moment or two.

  “I’ve tried to be nice but you obviously respond better to brutality.” With a lightning-fast swipe of her arm, she sliced his chest with the tip of the knife then stood back and watched the blood trail down his torso. “What is your mission objective?”

  The bloodthirsty little bitch! His symbionts quickly sealed the wound but the red stripe remained, a constant reminder that she’d dared to cut him.

  She wiped the tip of her blade with a soft cloth, her gaze fixed on the vivid red smear across stark-white material. “I know damn well you’re not part of a recon team.”

  The only ships that had come to Earth in recent years had contained recon teams, so it was a logical assumption. Still, he had no intention of confirming any of her suspicions. “Where’s my commander? I know he survived the crash.”

  “I thought you were the commander.” The mischievous sparkle in her eyes told him she lied.

  She had to know by now that he wouldn’t tell her anything, so why did she continue with this farce? Was she enjoying his discomfort or was she aroused by his helplessness? “And I think you’re much too beautiful to be an inquisitor.”

  Approaching him slowly, she twirled the stiletto and swayed her hips. “Then answer my questions so we can both find something better to do.”

  “Slip out of those leather pants and I’ll show you all sorts of ‘better’ things we can do right now.” His cock ached and his fangs burned. He needed to feed and he needed to fuck and her scent was driving him crazy. “Leave my arms chained if that’s what’s making you so wet. All I need is my legs.” He thrust his hips toward her, letting his erection point the way.

  “In your dreams.” Her sneer wasn’t as convincing as the smell of her cream.

  “Why wait for a dream?” Closing his eyes, he slowly licked his lips. “Want to hear what I’m imagining? You’re naked and on your knees. Watching you undress has made me really hard. I’m still chained but you unzip my pants and—”

  “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.
r />   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.”

  Chapter One

  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.