He knew it wasn’t a street gang that had kicked in his door.
Trinity had found him again.
He palmed his newest gun, an experimental weapon he’d commandeered after Trinity’s warning at the bar, and punted the door the rest of the way open. Instead of stun or death rays, instead of bullets, this gun ejected darts of poison that broke the blood-brain barrier in an instant, supposedly paralyzing the victim. Or killing. Whatever. Trinity might still be here, might not, and the poison might work on her, might not, but no telling who else had accompanied her.
Immediately he saw two males guards stationed on opposite sides of the entry. Their backs were pressed against the wall, offering him their profiles. They knew he was there—a fucking chimp would have known after that door-busting thing—but they didn’t move, didn’t twitch.
He fired, anyway, nailing one than the other in quick succession. The red darts whizzed through the air and nailed both males in the neck. They groaned, twitched, and collapsed. Excellent. The paralyzing agent worked. Maybe a little too well. Their chests stopped moving.
Oh, well. They had invaded his home. They deserved what they got.
Best thing about these darts, though, was that they didn’t cause bloodshed. The tips were shoved through a pyre-crystal before ejection, and the heat cauterized the ensuing wound before a single bead of blood could form.
“Was that entirely necessary?” a familiar female tsked.
The queen. Trinity.
She’d stayed.
Dread increased the flow of his blood, which in turn increased the speed of his inhalations. Every lungful of breath infused her scent—roses, stronger now, as if they’d bloomed in a frosted field—with his own, until he wasn’t sure if he was Dallas anymore or if he belonged to her.
“Put the weapon away, and I’ll reveal myself.”
He gritted his teeth. He couldn’t see her, but she’d sounded loud enough to be standing right next to him. He wasn’t hers, he reminded himself. Would never be hers. Right now, he was Kyrin’s, the guy who’d fed him Arcadian blood and saved his life all those months ago. The guy who’d made him what he was. Psychic, able to control people with his mind, and fast beyond measure. Not that any of that helped him with Trinity.
“You made good on your threat,” he said, sheathing his gun. He didn’t want to, but knew deep down she would stay true to her word. All the while, he stealthily punched in Mia’s number on his cell. Hopefully she’d answer, listen, realize something was wrong, then beat feet to get here.
Sure enough, the queen walked around him, from back to front, a second later, fingertip dragging over his shoulder and chest. Only, that finger misted through him, insubstantial. A dart would slide right through her, too, he realized.
The top of her head only reached his chin. Her hair was dark now, he saw, and chopped to her jaw, but everything else was the same. Those soulful eyes, those soft lips. That flawless skin.
He spread his legs, hands remaining behind his back, a classic I’m-not-moving-from-this-spot, you-can-totally-trust-me stance.
“Yes,” she said, deceptively sad. “I infected one of your agents.”
Are you there, Mia? Did you hear that? Do you know who I’m dealing with? He stored the phone in his pocket. “He wasn’t an agent, Trin. You don’t mind if I call you Trin, do you? You’re a queen, I know, but I don’t think we need the formality. Johnny was only in training.”
Trinity whirled full throttle, robe twirling at her feet, eyes glittering. “In training? Well, that’s disappointing. But no matter. He’ll serve me well.” Her gaze skittered to her fallen comrades. “You owe me another guard.”
He owed her? Owed? Bitch. “I killed two.” Were there others here? Others he couldn’t see? “But you only want me to replace one? Gee. Thanks for the discount.”
“No discount. I’ve already taken Johnny.”
He bristled at this second reminder. “Actually, we have him. Not you.”
She laughed, soft, gentle, and just like before, it was like hearing bells. “Not for long.”
What did that mean? She’d spring the guy? He’d try and escape? He’d soon die? “So why’d you pick him, hmm?”
“You didn’t seem to like him, so I thought I would be doing you a favor.” Another whirl, and she was gliding to his couch. Another, and she was easing down, peering over at him with a half-smile.
Good. He’d relaxed her. Time to up his game.
“You’re allowed to show your thanks,” she said.
He arched a brow, a fuck-you expression she would hopefully interpret as a simple refusal, and strode over—careful, have to be careful—then leaned down and tried to pinch a lock of her hair between his fingers. Like mist, cool, whispering.
“I liked the blond better,” he said. He let his arm fall to his side—See, Trin. You can trust me—praying Mia was even then gathering troops to raid his place. How would they take her down, though, when they couldn’t touch her?
She stood, never quite brushing him. Before his eyes, those dark strands lengthened and lightened until they were completely devoid of color. He could only watch, wide-eyed.
To his knowledge, only one other person possessed such an ability. Macy Briggs. An AIR agent who could switch identities with only a thought. Macy could change more than her hair, though. She could change faces, gender, bodies. Everything. They’d always assumed she was harmless. Could she be one of the Schön?
No, he thought next. She had married a Rakan warrior, and the two had most definitely had sex. For several weeks, Dallas had been the guy’s shadow and had seen some things he’d never be able to scrub from his memories. Yet Breean had never shown signs of cannibalism or sickness.
“No reaction to my talent?” Trinity asked with a pout.
He shrugged, backed up a step. If she thought he feared her, she would become smug. Maybe make a mistake. Maybe materialize. But he couldn’t outright admit to being afraid. She’d know he lied. “I’ve seen better.”
Anger darkened her eyes, but was quickly masked. “Have you, now? Well, I’m new at camouflage. In a few weeks, I’ll be as adept as your Macy Briggs.”
Don’t show your surprise. “So you’ve met Macy?”
She shrugged now, a mimic of his. “We haven’t been properly introduced, no.”
So she’d watched the agent, studied her. Learned from her. And Macy had never known, or she would have said something. Hell, Dallas had never known. “And you picked up her … talent.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that?”
Trinity turned slowly, offering her profile like a model on a runway, before looking at him over her shoulder. “Yes. Just. Like. That.” One step, two, she walked away, not leaving the living room but pacing circles in the center. Caging him. “That’s my way. I see, I want, I have.”
Refusing to be cowed, he followed her. Watched. She ghosted through his laundry, empty beer bottles, food wrappers, and video games. Dallas had a little problem cleaning up after himself. Someone usually took pity on him and hired a maid (Devyn) or did the work herself (one of his many bed partners).
“That makes you selfish,” he said casually.
“That makes me happy. Others merely wish they could take. I actually can. Why shouldn’t I enjoy?”
“Because those others get hurt.”
“Actually, I give them a gift. They become like me. Able to adapt to anything. Able to do anything.”
“As long as they continue to infect others.”
“Yes. A small price to pay when given so much in return.”
The destruction of living beings was “a small price”? “So what happens when everyone in the world is infected?”
“They start killing each other.” No remorse. Not even pretend this time.
“But you continue on to another planet?”
“Yes.”
“How is that a gift, then?” Where the hell are you, Mia? He began to wonder if she’d ever picked up. If he’d simply gotten her voice mail, and she wouldn’t hear this conversation until tomorrow, when it would be too late to do anything.
“For the time they live as Schön, they’re powerful. Beautiful. Beloved by their lovers, if feared by outsiders. Better to have such things for a short while than to live forever without ever knowing true power.”
“But you don’t give your victims a chance to pick. You force.”
She spun, facing him, eyes blazing, before again giving him her back and pacing those circles. Along the way, she danced a hand through the clothes, looking them over this time and then forgetting them. “Until they experience it, they don’t understand the joy I’m offering.”
Yeah, cannibalism and slavery, two words he’d always associated with joy. “Why have you given me a choice, then?”
“You are unlike anyone I have ever met. You are two races, Arcadian and human, something that should be impossible. And … I think I like the way you resist me. A novelty, I’m sure, and one that will eventually fade, but your spirit is pleasing for the moment, so I have no desire to damage it.”
Had to be a lie. Otherwise, she would have seen the critical flaw in her plan. “If we sleep together, and I’m infected, that spirit you just praised will be damaged.” Johnny now lived for her and her alone. Johnny did whatever she wanted and nothing she didn’t. Hell, she even talked through the guy, threatening the vampire, McKell. “You won’t have what you desire most.”
“How like you to think that you are what I desire most. Don’t get me wrong. I like you, I do. And like I said, I’m intrigued by you. But I’m willing to sacrifice you without any hesitation to get what I truly want.”
That shouldn’t have irritated him. He didn’t want to be wanted by her. “So what do you truly want?”
“That isn’t for you to know.”
She would say no more on the subject. There had been finality in her tone, as well as irritation. If he wasn’t careful, she would leave before Mia arrived. If Mia arrived. “For the record,” he said, changing the subject. “I like all AIR agents. Those in training, those out of training. So don’t do me any more favors, okay?”
A raspy chuckle escaped her. “I warned you I would infect someone. You even know my next target.”
“Unless I sleep with you.”
“Yes.”
“So that you can speak through me.”
“Yes,” she said again.
In the light, her blond hair resembled fallen snowflakes. Fitting, since she still smelled of rose-covered ice mountains. Idiot. “Why not use one of the men you’ve already infected? Mia wouldn’t balk about speaking to one of them.”
“Your people do not trust them.” She tossed him a grin. Fleeting, but soothing.
God, she was gorgeous. What would it be like to kiss that grin off her face? What would it be like to hold her, have her?
Clearly, the more time he spent with her, the more she dominated his thoughts. Much more, and he’d be begging to bed her. He’d give Mia five more minutes. If she failed to arrive, he’d do something to piss off Trinity and make her leave.
“They won’t trust me if I’m infected,” he said, returning to the conversation.
“They won’t care that you’re different. They love you. That much is obvious. They’ll do anything, even bargain with me, to keep you alive.”
“And what do you wish to bargain for? Tell me that much, at least.”
Another grin, just as fleeting, but making him crave. “I will leave this planet, cause no more harm, if your Mia will give me that which I desire most.”
He experienced a pang of regret. Get yourself under control, damn it. “And that is?”
Finally she stopped, faced him. There was no hint of amusement this time. “I’ll tell you after you sleep with me. Not before.”
He closed the rest of the distance, careful, so careful, and flattened his hands on what should have been her shoulders. Still that mist, that coolness. “Let me feel you,” he beseeched softly.
“Why?”
“Because you can. Because you’re not afraid.”
She didn’t stiffen, as he’d expected, but softened against him, leaning into his chest. Slowly, her body warmed, became solid. Her appeal, far greater. The scent of roses mated with his every cell, his mind clouded with more thoughts of kissing, touching, and he had to force himself back on track.
“Did you offer this bargain to the other planets you … visited?” Destroyed. He slid his hands down her back, along her spine, and stopped at the curve of her waist.
She nodded, her hair tickling his chin.
Perhaps she didn’t realize what she’d just admitted, but he did. Those planets had been unable to deliver, whatever it was. Which meant Mia, and therefore Earth, would most likely be unable to deliver. So he would have sacrificed himself for nothing. No thanks.
Closer he leaned … hoping to distract her with his nearness so that she wouldn’t notice that he had removed one of his hands from her body, was even then shifting that hand behind his back, reaching for the dart gun. “Maybe I can get it for you,” he whispered into her ear. “On my own.”
“Can’t.” Her eyes were luminous blue pools.
“Because I’m a man, and you need a woman?” His fingers curled around the hilt, even as he fought the urge to kiss the shell of her ear.
“No.”
“Your one-word answers are annoying.” Silkily said. He could ignore temptation no longer. He kissed the shell of her ear, soft, light. Her disease spread through bodily fluid. He could lick every inch of her skin and remain unaffected. A thought he shouldn’t have relished, but one he did. This close to her … yes, lick.