Into the Light (The Admiral's Elite Book 2) (3 page)

 

“Is there something you would like to say Michael?” Black had resumed his position at the head of the table and leaned forward, putting his features directly under the overhead light. He glowed, eerily wraithlike.

 

The vampire climbing its way out of Michael gnashed its teeth, demanding blood. Black openly challenged him on the flight back from D.C. He was going to use Becca for something. Did Michael have an issue with that? The knife Black put between his ribs hadn’t been what stopped him from objecting more than he had. It was the damned bond Black controlled him through. There was no stopping the admiral from using Becca, she was one of his soldiers now like the rest of them. But Michael already struggled to make absolutely sure he was able to offer protection against those he could defeat, while letting her believe he was treating her the same as the others in the unit. She was intelligent. Eventually she would figure out something changed while the admiral and he were in D.C. And as much as a part of him wished he could tell her, Black had forbidden his mentioning his new plans for Becca, he also dreaded it. There was no chance she would believe him to be anything other than a weak coward for doing nothing to defend her from Black. As her commanding officer and lover it was his duty. Too soon, his only happiness in over half a century was going to come crashing down and he was powerless to stop it.  

 

“No Sir. I believe I’ve expressed my opinion already.” From his periphery he caught Becca’s sharp intake of breath and the direction of her eyes. He could almost see her picturing the fading scar that would be gone entirely the next time he fed.

 

Thankfully, Black let it go. He was confident he’d made his point and everyone at the table knew Michael was allowed a certain amount of leniency given his elevated position in the unit. They couldn’t know why Black chose him as their leader though they were more than willing to keep him as the go between. No one wanted to spend any extra time with the admiral if they could avoid it. That was the only reason no one had discovered his ties to Black thus far. Only Becca had gotten close enough to him to be in a position to be suspicious. And this jumping ability had him shaken. If she guessed at the depth of his supplication she would withdraw for self-protection, if not for disgust. How could she not? He was half a man, or monster; unable to exercise his own will. And if she didn’t guess the cause of his compromised strength, she could only believe him a coward. It was only a matter of time before she left him. A strong woman could only want an equally strong man, and he was not that. He wished he could tear his dead soul from his chest and break the bond he would obey until his end.

 

Leaning back, Black removed himself from the light and let his hands drop by his sides. “If you will turn your attentions to the case files…” He went on to briefly outline the details of the crime scenes, what little information they gave about the potential creature they were facing, and when they would be leaving. The crime scenes were standard issue psychopath complete with disemboweled bodies and removed hearts. Of course there were pictures. Because the hearts hadn’t been found, the police assumed the killer was keeping them as souvenirs. Black believed they were being eaten which indicated an animal, maybe a were. Or a demon.

 

All eyes turned to Becca at mention of the last. Staring at her file, she avoided looking at any of them and kept her shaking hands beneath the table. They all sensed her systemic panic, her faint scars were still easily visible to all non-humans present. He vowed to keep her safe from this one.

 

“Wheels up at zero-seven hundred.”

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Their briefing complete, all were excused. Becca pushed her chair back and gathered her file under her arm. She made her way as quickly as she could without running to the stairs, half expecting to be called back for more one on one time with the admiral. The spot between her shoulder blades itched from all the eyes surely fixed there. A quick stop in her room to toss the file she should be reading on her bed, and Becca did a quick change into running clothes. She left her iPod on her dresser. She wanted to clear her mind and a quiet run in the desert was more likely to do the trick than a head full of driving bass.  

 

Minutes after she’d stepped out the front door, Becca felt peace returning to her frayed psyche. The sun was on its way down, tinting the few wispy clouds brave enough to be near it to glowing pinks and oranges; a tiny line of silver luminescence on the undersides. Early spring brought with it the first signs of life. Browns, grays, and pale woody greens were brightening to vibrant peeks of yellow, lavender, and even the lightest hints of pale blue through the bland landscape. The cacti were budding. Everything was readying for a brief yet vivid display that would be peaking within the next few weeks. Even the scent of dust and dry earth was starting to give way to the occasional sniff of something living. Not sufficient to identify yet, but enough to whisper that it was on its way.

 

By the time Becca returned the sky was deep blue and already dotted with a handful of stars. The now visible half moon had risen and was casting its white glow on her shoulders as she mounted the cold gray steps to the estate. Its grand outline stood dark and jarring against the starlight. Whoever had decided an English estate belonged here in the desert where Spanish styling and earth homes were prevalent was beyond her. Probably the admiral, Becca thought with a roll of her eyes. It most likely never occurred to him that he might want to fly under the radar, being what he was. After who knew how long as a giant pasty monster, he’d probably forgotten it was even possible to do such a thing. She shivered as the evening cool mixed with sweat and her date with a hot shower became primary in her thoughts.

 

Becca was wrapped in a towel and combing her hair when there was a knock at her door. Assuming it was Michael, she bit her lip to hide her smile and felt her body stir. It wasn’t just his stronger senses she’d borrowed for the time being. Becca put her comb on the dresser, one hand on the doorknob, the other readying to drop her towel, when she opened it and gasped.  

 

Amber eyes, carefully deadened to feign her standard general disinterest rolled. “Jesus Becca, put some pants on.”

 

Backing up, Becca did nothing to stop the female werewolf’s forward momentum into her room and sat hard on her bed while Gabrielle leaned against the door she closed behind her. “And to what do I owe the pleasure, Gabrielle?” Becca didn’t call the woman by her nickname, Gab, like the others did. It didn’t seem right, nor had the familiarity been offered.

 

Always the suspicious one, Gabrielle went straight on the offensive. “What the hell was that downstairs this afternoon?”

 

Her hands clutched the towel, top and bottom. It was the only armor she had shielding her from Gabrielle’s onslaught. It felt woefully inadequate under the circumstances. The spots beginning to cloud her vision agreed. “What are you talking about?” Becca wrangled her emotions to get them under control before her warning system got the better of her.

 

Body rippling forward with the grace of a predator, Gabrielle moved off the door and approached the bed. Becca forced herself not to scoot away. The last thing Gabrielle needed was more evidence that she was weak, and human. “Michael’s thing with Black. What’s he getting all caveman about? And why was Black taunting him?”

 

“Taunting him?” Becca was clueless.

 

Again the eye roll. “Oh come on.” Tanned hands rested on perfectly curved hips clad in black fatigues that looked so much better on her Becca wondered if she had hers tailored. “He waited until he had Michael’s undivided attention and got down, close enough to your neck to be sure Michael got the picture. You’re his.” Leaning back, Gabrielle crossed her arms over her enviable chest. “Any particular reason those two are having a pissing contest over you?” The way she said the last made it abundantly clear Gabrielle’s previous friendly overtures toward Becca were going to be her last.

 

Shaken to think the admiral had gotten close enough to bite her, making a point of showing her vulnerability to her only protector, Becca was nearly blinded with the overwhelming warning of impending danger. Breathing became difficult and she clutched at her stomach. As panic overtook her, Becca’s defenses shattered and cold fear flooded her.

 

There was nothing from Gabrielle for a long moment while Becca struggled to regain some functional bit of her senses. The combination of fear and Black’s earlier assignment came back to her and she had an idea. Using the visual of Gabrielle’s honey blonde hair visible outside the blinding bright light washing out her face, Becca focused on her and jumped.

 

Or she tried. Nothing happened. Fearful she wouldn’t be able to complete the admiral’s assignment within his deadline, terrified that meant he would make good the implied threat everyone but she had seen at the briefing, Becca’s heart went into overdrive. The sides of her ribs ached as her heart thudded hard within its bony cage, threatening to tear her asunder and leave her body broken like the victims in the case file. Surely that was what the admiral had planned if she proved less than useful. He never kept anyone around he didn’t need and he had no patience for failures. Shadows joined the bright spots in a laser show of yin and yang just for her. Where her hands had been white knuckled clutching at her towel, they came away to break her fall as Becca fell backward.

 

“Shit. Becca? Are you all right?” Anger gave way to concern and Gabrielle reached out to shake the girl by the shoulders. “Don’t have a heart attack on me.” Was she old enough to have a heart attack? Her supernatural hearing told her the organ was going far too fast to be good for her. Maybe if she passed out she’d calm down. Unsure what else to do, Gabrielle sat down next to her and patted her shoulder awkwardly.

 

It didn’t take long for her relief to come. The wooden door flew open to reveal a very pissed off vampire glowering at her. Normally he didn’t scare her and Gabrielle typically made sure to show Michael he couldn’t intimidate her. But years of seeing what fangs like those could do and not being a masochist, Gabrielle hopped to her feet and held her hands out in front of her. “Michael, I swear I didn’t do anything.” Both of them glanced over at the human struggling to breath. She was making weird groaning noises and her towel had fallen open. Nudity was normal in the world of a werewolf, that wasn’t what caught her eye. Gabrielle stared at the flesh that had been burned to a crisp only two months before. Michael had really done it. He had brought her all the way back with scarring barely visible even to a creature with enhanced vision like theirs. And even those were fading. Eventually she would be flawless, she was sure. He was stronger than she thought. That had to have left its mark on the girl. She couldn’t be completely human anymore. Gabrielle determined to keep an eye on her, watching for signs of transformation or servitude. Would Black allow Michael a human servant? And was he really willing to turn his lover into a servant to save her? There were ramifications for these sorts of drastic overtures.

 

“What did you do to her?” Michael appeared next to Becca. His hands reached out to take his woman and in a blink, very gently, cradled her nude body to his chest. “Becca, can you hear me? You have to calm down.”

 

Amazed at this side of her formerly emotionally closed leader, Gabrielle watched as he cooed to her, hands stroking her hair. The gentle side of the admiral’s whipping boy brought Gabrielle’s suspicions to heel. The admiral was a typical crazy-ass vampire in that he coveted things. It was possible he didn’t like the fact that his underling had found something that divided his attention and was asserting his control. Unlike Gabrielle and Ryan who were smart enough to keep their sex lives private, these two were stupidly obvious about the fact that they were together. And seeing the fear in the captain’s eyes, both at the admiral’s threat and now that his human was in trouble, she realized that the admiral most likely didn’t care for the distraction Becca caused Michael. He must really value that whole “prescient sight and future visions of danger” thing she had. Or was it this new “jumping” thing she could do? Honestly it freaked the crap out of Gabrielle. She didn’t want the woman in
her
head. What if she could poke around while she was in there? She was getting twitchy watching for some weird tickling or foreign jabbing feeling in her head when she was around the human. Nobody got in and poked around in there.

 

“Get out,” Michael growled low and dangerous, yanking Gabrielle back from her thoughts.

 

Blinking at the naked human lying prone, she could hear the heart calming under Michael’s ministrations. Not yet ready to go and wanting to see more of this curious relationship, she took a half step toward him. “I’d like to help.”

 

He was having none of it; typical vampire. Selfish creatures that smelled like dirt and ash, her lip curled in distaste. Narrowed eyes burned almost black as he hissed at her. “You’ve done enough.”

 

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