OnsetofDanger Page 2
The room was small, clean yet dingy, offering no clue to her location. With white walls, generic pictures and yard-sale furniture, the room could be anywhere in the western world.
She was still dressed in a sequined evening gown but her shoes were nowhere in sight. The last thing she remembered clearly was the party. No, it began with the spaceship’s crash. Tara, her mother, presumed the new recon team had arrived early and arranged for the survivors to be brought to the Vancouver compound. Then she learned the survivors were all Strigo hosts and became suspicious. Why would High King Alta send a ship full of Strigo hosts to Earth? Always before the crews had been an equal balance of the four strains.
The survivors became prisoners and Eloise was sent to question the only member of the crew healthy enough to survive an interrogation. She tried to learn their true destination and the purpose for the visit, but the stubborn Strigo prisoner refused to talk. He laughed at her attempts to intimidate and reveled in the pain she’d inflicted. An unwanted shiver raced down her spine as she remembered his rippling muscles and smoldering gaze. Never before had a man left her so infuriated, and yet so aroused.
Her failure to learn anything useful was soon eclipsed by Prince Alexi’s return from the dead. Everyone believed the prince had died in the crash until he casually showed up at Tara’s front door and demanded the immediate release of his crew.
Continuing to treat his crew as prisoners risked war with Strigo strain, yet Tara wasn’t willing to lose the leverage entirely. So she plastered on her best smile and claimed the survivors were simply too damaged to leave her infirmary. She assured the prince that his crew would be released as soon as their strength returned.
In the meantime, Tara insisted on throwing a welcome reception for Prince Alexi. Eloise had tried to talk Tara out of it, tried to explain all the logical reasons why the party was too big a risk and would leave Vladya strain too exposed. But her mother would not be swayed. It had been hundreds of years since a member of the royal family ventured to Earth and Tara was going to take full advantage of the spectacle.
Tara might have been deaf to Eloise’s warnings, but Garrett understood…
Her thoughts came grinding to a halt as an image formed within her sluggish mind. Garrett lured her away from the party then threw her over his shoulder when she started to resist. That’s when she’d lost her shoes. He’d carried her into the trees beyond the formal gardens and…and her memory was foggy after that.
Garrett was her brother, the one person she trusted without question. There was no way he was part of her abduction. Tension knotted her belly as she grappled with the contradiction. If Garrett would never intentionally harm her, how could her memory be accurate?
She pushed to her feet and the room undulated like the image in a funhouse mirror. She couldn’t remember being drugged but something was definitely wrong. She was unsteady, her arms and legs felt weighted and her symbionts were oddly still. Scanning inward, she tried to rouse her symbionts, but they remained silent and motionless. She sent out a more powerful pulse, shuddering as pain spread across her chest and down her arms. The result was the same. No response from her symbionts. Were they dormant?
Or dead?
Fear stabbed into her chest and filled her with restlessness. She steadied herself against the headboard then carefully closed her eyes. She meticulously scanned her symbionts and detected the faint pulse of their energy. They were alive, just unconscious as she had been.
Her relief was short-lived as questions scrolled through her mind. What kind of drug affected symbionts as well as their hosts? She’d never heard of such a thing. It was the symbionts’ resistance to external forces that enabled them to heal, strengthen and empower their hosts.
How long had she been unconscious? And why had she been taken? What did her abductors want? Ransom? Revenge? With Tara as a mother, there could be any number of reasons. Strigo strain was the only real threat to Vladya, but the Rom had legitimate reasons for hating Tara. If the Rom had finally convinced the head of Strigo strain to champion their cause…
Her thoughts sputtered out without conclusion. She didn’t have enough information to make an intelligent hypothesis.
Opening her eyes, Eloise waited for the vertigo to abate then stumbled across the room. The door was locked and there were no windows or other openings, not even a closet or adjoining bathroom. This wasn’t a bedroom as much as a holding cell with a bed.
“Hello!” She closed her fist and pounded on the portal. “Is anyone out there?” And did she really want to talk to them if they were? She took a step back, regretting her impulsive move. As long as her symbionts remained sedated she was human again, no match for any host.
She heard the click of a lock and then the doorknob rotated. Lifting her skirt as she ducked to the side, she automatically reached for her stiletto, but the sheath strapped to her thigh was empty. “Shit,” she whispered as the door swung inward. She had no choice but to play a bluff and she’d never been known for her poker face.
A blond man stepped into the room and pushed the door shut behind him. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been drugged and kidnapped. Who are you? Why’d you bring me here?” She looked around the nondescript room and added, “Where the hell am I?”
“My identity is irrelevant. I represent the Levari Brethren and you have access to something that belongs to them. Quite simply, they want it back.”
“The Levari what? No one has sensed a Levari host for years. Everyone believes they’re extinct.”
He moved closer and Eloise stepped back, hating the vulnerability revealed by her retreat. She couldn’t scan him, couldn’t judge the truthfulness of his claims. She felt lost without her symbionts, lost and alone.
“I am Levari, so apparently we’re not extinct.” He smiled and dimples formed on either side of his mouth. His features were pleasant but she didn’t trust the warmth in his brown eyes.
“What do the Levari think I’ve taken? And why do they suspect me of the theft?”
“We don’t suspect you. We suspect your mother.”
“My mother?” Doubt and confusion were her only weapons. It was unlikely either would protect her for long, but hopefully given time she could rouse her symbionts. “My mother was an accountant and she died years ago. Are you sure you kidnapped the right person?”
Uncertainty flickered through his dark eyes then an expressionless mask took over his features. “We are not in the mood for games. You are Eloise Kovac, initiated daughter of Tara Kovac, current head of Vladya strain.”
She needed to keep him talking, waste as much time as possible. “Eloise is my cousin, or at least she was while we were human. We were both initiated by Vladya hosts but my maker is one of General Kovac’s soldiers, not General Kovac herself.”
“You lie.” He sounded almost robotic now, as if an emotionless machine had taken over his body.
“No. It’s true! I know we look similar. I’ve even doubled for Eloise from time to time, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You responded to the likeness of your brother as if you were Eloise. You are Eloise.”
The likeness of her brother? That’s how they’d managed to capture her. One of the Levari had taken on Garrett’s shape. She shivered as all the ramifications spread through her mind. Levari strain was not only alive, they were powerful enough to shapeshift and conceal their presence from purebloods like her mother.
She slowly licked her lips but her tongue was too dry to bring any relief. “What do you think she’s taken? Maybe I can help you find it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly annoyed by her continued attempts at deception. “She intercepted a message from Strigoia Prime. The information was meant for the Levari Brethren.”
Eloise shook her head and took another step back. “I don’t have access to anything from Strigoia Prime. Those sorts of secrets are extremely well-guarded. Regardless of my
name, you’ve got the wrong person.”
He searched her gaze for a long, silent moment then shrugged. “We didn’t expect you to cooperate without motivation. Perhaps a few hours of solitude, now that you’re awake, will make you more cooperative.” He started for the door.
“Wait!” He paused yet didn’t turn around. “I need water. Please. Whatever you gave me made me incredibly thirsty.”
With lethal calm he turned and faced her, dark eyes shining. “Answer a few questions and I will bring you whatever you want to drink.”
“I’m not trying to be difficult. I don’t know anything.”
“Tell me about the party. No, go farther back. Tell me about the spaceship. Was Prince Alexi the only survivor? Do you know what was responsible for the crash?”
Immediately the image of the massive blond she’d interrogated flashed into Eloise’s mind. He’d been hostile and arrogant, sarcastic and…charming. She’d thought about him often in the past few days.
Baby doll. He’d looked her in the eyes and called her the outrageous nickname while he’d been in chains.
Giving herself a firm mental shake, she forced the Strigo captive’s image from her mind and focused on her present predicament. What should she tell the Levari? She had to say something or he’d lock her up and ignore her for who knew how long.
“There were other survivors but most were in very bad shape.” A truth and an exaggeration. Would he be able to sense the difference?
“A recon ship was not due for another three years. Why is Prince Alexi here?”
“You’ll have to ask him. I’m not privy to his plans.”
He tensed, gaze narrowing as he stared into her eyes. “Has your mother demanded a ransom for the survivors?”
“Tara Kovac is not my mother.”
Obviously irritated by her persistence, he spun toward the door.
“I answered your questions. Where’s my water?”
“When I return.”
“When will that be? How long was I unconscious?”
With his hand on the doorknob he turned his head, but his expression was unreadable. “Forty-two hours. No one knows where you are and your symbionts are neutralized.”
So it had been intentional. She hadn’t been sure until that moment.
“Not only are you helpless, you will slowly weaken and die. Your body depends on your symbionts far more than you realize. Tell us what you know and we’ll give you the antidote. I really don’t want to watch you die.” With that cryptic statement echoing in the room, he stepped into the hall and shut the door.
She stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door, more stunned than afraid. Forty-two hours? If she’d been unconscious almost two days her mother had to have people searching for her. Unless Garrett’s imposter provided an explanation for her absence. What had they done with the real Garrett? Everyone believed the Levari had died out, so she didn’t know enough about the strain to decide if they would be ruthless enough to kill Garrett outright or stash him somewhere until the impostor completed the task. She shook her head and pressed her hand over her pounding heart. The mystery was irrelevant. She couldn’t help Garrett or anyone else unless she escaped.
Too anxious to stand still, she crossed the room and tried the door handle. It was unlikely that her captor had been careless enough to leave it open, but she needed to find out. It was locked. The bed, a banged-up dresser and a faded chair were the only furnishings, so she knelt on the floor and looked under the bed. With her Vladya abilities stifled, she had to find some sort of weapon. If her captor was anything like the hosts she knew, his next visit would escalate to an aggressive interrogation.
The only thing under the bed was a cluster of dust bunnies. The contents of the dresser were just as useless. She didn’t even have her shoes! How was she supposed to defend herself without…
A glimmer of light drew her attention to the center of the room as the massive Strigo captive flashed into view. Her dry throat strangled her scream and a menacing smile curved his lips. How had he escaped the Vancouver compound? She glanced at the door then looked at him, unsure if the Levari or this man posed the bigger threat.
Without explanation he caught her wrist and pulled her into his arms. She wasn’t foolish enough to consider this a rescue, but anything had to be better than waiting for the Levari to return. She clutched his broad back and pressed her face against his chest, breathing in his scent with each ragged breath.
Her surroundings blurred and the floor dissolved beneath her feet. She gasped and his arms tightened around her as the world spun out of control.
* * * * *
“One hour,” the Levari guard stressed. “You have exactly one hour with your mate.”
Caresse nodded, trying not to let her frustration show. It was taking more and more effort to keep the Levari Brethren out of her mind. She wasn’t sure why Desmond had insisted on interrogating the Vladya prisoner, but she knew better than to question Desmond’s methods. He always had a plan—though it was often complicated and unconventional—and he always put her safety and happiness first.
She’d been a blood-slave when Desmond found her, a hollow shell, hopeless and alone. He rescued her from a feeding den, putting himself at great risk in the process. She owed him her life and her loyalty, so she would fight with her dying breath to stay by his side.
Listening to Desmond is how you ended up on this wretched planet.
The thought sent frustration and shame cascading through her. The result might have been a disaster, but Desmond’s motivation had been pure. Prejudice and corruption within the royal family had made Desmond’s life a living hell. The worst of the physical abuse had ended by the time Caresse met him, but every day she helped him combat the ghosts left behind by decades of abuse.
He was known as the Royal Bastard or Lady Mara’s Shame. They quickly realized there was nowhere on Strigoia Prime that the illegitimate son of the king’s sister could live in peace. Everyone knew his face and the story of his conception. Lady Mara had been raped by a Levari and Desmond resulted from the brutality.
It was extremely rare for a child to be born to parents from different strains. When Lady Mara realized she was one of the few, everyone encouraged her to end the pregnancy. But Mara was horrified by the idea of ending the life of an innocent babe. It was not the child’s fault that his father was a monster.
Then Desmond was born with his father’s dark eyes and pale hair, so he became a continual reminder of the horror Mara had endured. Even more surprising, he’d inherited both Strigo and Levari symbionts, something the experts hadn’t believed possible.
The cruelty that followed was too abhorrent to comprehend. High King Alta insisted on “cleansing” Desmond of his Strigo symbionts. It was unthinkable that a rapist’s son might maintain any claim to the throne, so Alta ordered continual blood transfusions and targeted viral injections until Desmond’s Strigo symbionts were purged or at least neutralized.
The excruciating treatments began when Desmond was three and continued into adulthood. In the end the doctors hadn’t been able to rid his body of all traces of Strigo strain, but they had successfully created a sort of hibernation.
Twenty-three years of incarceration and degradation left Desmond physically ravaged and nearly insane. But he’d survived. He joined the military, determined to rebuild his strength and hone his skills to lethal efficiency. Year after year his bitterness grew, along with his determination to have revenge. He became a member of the Felean Marton,the most elite fighting force on Strigoia Prime. He’d been consumed by hatred and resentment, until he met Caresse.
Caresse changed Desmond, allowed him to channel his burning resentment into protective passion. She loved him unconditionally and soothed his ravaged soul with her body and her gentleness. They were two lost souls who finally found a home, yet their home didn’t want them.
Though Caresse was blissful with Desmond, she was miserable on Strigoia Prime. Everywhere they turned there w
ere reminders of the people who had hurt them and the horrors they’d endured. They couldn’t escape their past unless they escaped the planet, so Desmond set out to do just that. He swallowed his pride and accepted Prince Alexi’s offer to transport him and Caresse to Earth. Alexi, the only member of the royal family who had ever shown Desmond anything resembling kindness, made them promise to disappear, have no contact with the other hosts and find an isolated haven where they could live out their lives in peace.
They’d had every intention of keeping that promise until the spaceship neared its destination. Somehow the Levari Brethren networked their collective power and took control of the Levari hosts on the ship. They used Desmond, Caresse and three others like puppets. They’d been aware but completely under the control of the Levari Brethren.
Alexi and his crew hadn’t given up without a fight and a devastating crash resulted. The collision nearly claimed both Desmond and Caresse. They had been so weak from loss of blood they’d lost contact with the Levari Brethren. Unfortunately the freedom had been temporary. As soon as they fed and regained their strength, the Brethren sank their metaphysical talons into the couple again.
“Do you want this or not?” The guard’s harsh tone snapped Caresse out of the past.
“Of course I want this.”
“Then get a move on.” He gave her a little shove.
The safe house was one of many scattered in the mountains of Montana. Completely surrounded by trees, the small log cabin appeared isolated yet charming. Fragrant smoke curled into the brisk afternoon air, channeled through a stone chimney, and a dilapidated rocking chair sat at one end of the railed front porch.
She followed her escort onto the porch. He nodded to the host standing guard beside the door. “Anyone in or out?”
“No.” The other guard sounded insulted by the possibility. “It’s been quiet since I got here. I don’t think Eloise is even awake yet.”