Rebel Heat Read online

  A firm knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Morgan looked toward the door, a cunning gleam in her eyes. “You will not move and you will remain silent.” He reinforced the directive with a powerful compulsion and paused to see if it took hold. Her eyes widened and subtle twitches indicated her attempts to move. “I will release you in a moment.”

  He answered the door, paid for the pizza and a two-liter bottle of cola. He kept the door angled, blocking the young man’s view of Morgan. After the delivery person departed, Nazerel locked the door and returned to the table. Only then did he release her from the compulsion.

  She sprang back to life with a gasp, knocking her chair over as she jumped to her feet. “What the hell… How did you do that?”

  “Let’s eat while it’s hot.” He placed the box in the middle of the table and divided the stack of paper napkins. The delivery person hadn’t provided disposable plates, so they would have to eat over the box. “If you want ice for your drink, I’ll have to compel you again.”

  “Only the sweepers can use compulsions. How were you able to paralyze me?”

  A true sweeper, like Varrik, would have compelled away her desire to escape. Nazerel had never achieved that level of control. Still, she didn’t need to know his limitations.

  There was a stack of glasses by the ice bucket. He grabbed two and brought them to the table. “I had aptitudes for both disciplines. I was just better at hunting.”

  “But you said you hadn’t used those skills in years.”

  He looked into her eyes and smiled. “I lied.”

  Morgan stared at him, shocked beyond words. Everyone had hinted that Nazerel was no ordinary Shadow Assassin. She was just starting to understand what they meant. He’d been difficult enough while the collar suppressed his abilities, now her hope of escaping him was threatening to desert her entirely.

  No. She would not give up or give in to his magnetic personality. As long as she was alive, she would keep fighting.

  “Are you going to join me or shall I begin?” He raised the lid on the pizza box and let the aroma fill the air.

  Her stomach growled and her mouth watered. They had their days and nights switched around, but it had been at least nine hours since she’d eaten anything. To escape she would need mental sharpness and physical strength, and both of those required energy. Satisfied with the rationalization, she righted her chair and sat back down.

  “Dig in. He didn’t bring plates, so we’ll be dining bachelor style.”

  She picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite. The crust was a little tough, but there was plenty of cheese and inviting flavors. “No one just figures out how to control their power.” She paused for a quick drink of cola. “Who taught you how to form compulsions?”

  “My compulsions are strong, but they don’t last very long. That’s why I became a hunter.”

  “Good to know, but that’s not what I asked. Who trained you?”

  “Can’t you guess?” He devoured one piece and reached for another before he clarified. “Varrik taught me how to use my sweeper abilities and I taught him how to use his hunter abilities. We did so in secret to begin with, but once the elders realized what we were doing, they decided cross training wasn’t such a bad idea.”

  “How many Shadow Assassins are able to use compulsions?” Controlling minds was so dangerous, even if it was for a short period of time.

  “I’m the only Shadow Assassin left on Earth, so why does it matter?”

  He was right. She needed to focus on Nazerel. He was her objective, her target, her enemy. So why did she keep forgetting. Her wrists were restrained and he’d taken off her pants and still she found herself fascinated by him rather than repulsed.

  “How long have you been with the alien taskforce?” Nazerel asked in between bites.

  So they were back to quid pro quo. He’d answered her questions, so it was time for her to answer his. “I’m one of the original members, so fifteen years. I’ve been director for the past six.”

  “You don’t seem old enough to have so many responsibilities.”

  She paused with her slice of pizza halfway to her mouth. “Thank you, I think.”

  “How did you come so far so quickly?” His tone was conversational, his expression calm.

  This was way too close to comfortable. It felt like a date, a slightly kinky date, but a date. Could Stockholm syndrome kick in this fast? Or was he influencing her, making her feel… She’d love to blame it all on him, but she’d felt this connection, this irrational attraction even before his powers were restored.

  “You really don’t like to talk about yourself, do you? It’s most people’s favorite subject.”

  She fought back a smile. At least he hadn’t said, it was most females’ favorite subject. She didn’t see any harm in answering his question, but she kept it succinct and factual. “I’ve always been self-motivated and driven. I graduated from college at sixteen and was contracted by the FBI a few months later. I was restricted to desk work until I turned twenty-three, but by then I was working for the taskforce and we tend to bend all sorts of rules. After all, we don’t really exist.”

  “Then you’re in your early thirties?”

  “Why is my age important? How old are you?”

  “I’m older than I look. Between my Rodyte heritage and my nanites’ ability to regenerate flesh, I could live for hundreds of years.”

  “Lucky you.” She took another bite of pizza and tried not to brood, but human existence had never felt so limited before. She couldn’t paralyze people with her mind or teleport. She didn’t have nanites to regenerate her flesh and—she could nurture a growing life inside her body and give birth to the next generation. That was something he would never be able to do, even if he lived for a thousand years. Maybe she wasn’t so useless after all.

  “Did something I say upset you? You seem annoyed.”

  She laughed. “I’m sitting here in my underwear eating with restrained hands. Why would I be annoyed?”

  “Stop trying to run away and I’ll unlock the cuffs.”

  She wiped her mouth with a napkin and picked up her glass. “You have your powers back. Why do you need me?”

  “Maybe I intend to trade you for my men.”

  If only it were that simple. “Why didn’t you make that offer to Elias rather than being obnoxious?”

  He smiled, clearly entertained by the memory. “Why did my boast bother you? Are you ashamed of the things I did to you or that you enjoyed them so much?”

  Ignoring the taunt, she pushed back her chair and stood. “I’m going to take a shower. Can I have my other outfit?”

  He shook his head. “We’ll both dress in fresh clothes before we depart. You can sleep in that.”

  Depart for where? And she’d just awaken from a long nap. It was unlikely she’d fall asleep again. Unless he compelled her. She shivered. Knowing he could make her do whatever he wanted was terrifying, so she refused to think about it.

  Rather than ask for a clarification, she said, “At least give me the toiletries. I’d like to brush my teeth.”

  “Fine.” He motioned toward the backpack Phil had given him. “Help yourself.”

  She rummaged through the contents and found what she’d need in the bathroom then held up both hands. “Can you unlock me, please? I don’t want to get the cuffs wet.”

  He’d checked the bathroom for escape routes and possible weapons when they arrived, so there was no reason for him to refuse. There wasn’t even a window in the small space. Still, his hesitation was proof positive that he didn’t trust her. Why should he? She’d given him nothing but trouble since he forced her into the Suburban and she didn’t intend to become sweet and docile now.

  Dragging the key out of his pocket, he unlocked the cuffs then quickly worked the buckles, freeing her from the restraints. “They go back on as soon as you’re finished.”

  “Whatever.” She hurried into the bathroom and closed the door, unable to hide her f
rustration or her growing desperation. Out of habit she locked the door then shook her head. What good were locked doors when her adversary could teleport through walls? She could pound on the bathroom wall and scream her head off, but it wouldn’t do any good. Nazerel would flash them to a new location before anyone who heard her screams could dial 9-1-1. Never before had she faced an opponent who had this many advantages.

  Nazerel knocked on the door, startling her out of her gloomy thoughts. “Get going. I’d like a shower too while there’s still time.”

  She glared at the door. The mystery package wouldn’t be ready until morning. What was his problem? She turned on the water at the sink rather than the shower then freed her toothbrush from the rigid packaging.

  After giving her teeth a good scrubbing, she closed the shower curtain and turned on the water. The bathtub was small, but the curtain rod bowed outward, keeping the enclosure from feeling claustrophobic. She gave the water a few minutes to warm up then climbed into the bathtub. With her back to the spray, she tilted her head and let the water saturate her hair.

  She couldn’t fight her way out of this situation. Nazerel was faster, stronger, and much more powerful than she. Still, her other options were nearly nonexistent. Nazerel had teleported her from Phil’s shop to the hotel room, so she had no idea where they were. Still, if she could get the communication device away from Nazerel, maybe she could figure out how he’d called Elias. Did the Rodyte version of a phone have a redial function?

  With a sigh of frustration, she picked up the miniature bottle of shampoo and poured a good amount into her palm. Nazerel was so different from the man portrayed in his dossier. He was ruthless, no one could deny his focus, but he wasn’t bloodthirsty or cruel. Well, he had moments of cruelty. What he’d said to Elias had certainly been mean-spirited. But she’d heard enough of what Elias said to understand the reaction. Elias had rubbed Nazerel’s face in his failure and Nazerel lashed out. If the situation were reversed, Elias might have done the same or worse.

  Oh dear God, she was defending Nazerel like a besotted schoolgirl.

  She raised her hands to her hair and closed her eyes as she worked the shampoo into a fragrant lather. Nazerel’s treatment of Elias might be debatable, but there was no excuse for what Nazerel had done the night before. He’d mercilessly seduced her, used her passionate nature against her in the most humiliating way.

  Lather slid over her breasts and belly like a whisper-soft touch. Her nipples peaked and her core ached as images rolled through her mind. His kiss had been consuming, intoxicating. Just thinking about it made her head spin. He’d looked into her eyes and made it clear that one word from her would have ended the session. So why had she remained silent? Why hadn’t she tried to negotiate, to calm him down and shift his focus away from her body? She’d been trapped by her own stubbornness as much as by his agenda.

  She was doing it again, justifying his deplorable behavior. He wasn’t a hapless victim of circumstance. He was the leader of the Shadow Assassins, one of the most ruthless groups of mercenaries she’d ever heard about.

  Which brought up another contradiction, Nazerel’s ongoing focus on his men. Heartless murderers weren’t generally loyal to their subordinates.

  A familiar scrubbing sound interrupted her troubled thoughts. It sounded like someone brushing their teeth. She opened her eyes and tried to detect Nazerel’s tall form through the curtain, but the rubbery material barely let any light through much less a silhouette. She eased one side back an inch and cringed. He stood in front of the sink, naked to the waist, casually brushing his teeth. Unbelievable!

  She started to bolt then realized he stood between her and the door. He’d catch her and push her up against the wall. And she’d be naked while he was still partially dressed, an advantage he obviously enjoyed.

  Maybe he’d finish cleaning his teeth then return to the outer room. He hadn’t announced his presence. Maybe he was just tired of pizza breath. And maybe she’d win the lottery tomorrow. She sighed. He was about to join her in the shower. There was no other reason he’d be in here now. All she could do was decide how to react when he did. The ends of her hair were still sudsy, so she stepped back under the spray and closed her eyes.

  A strange current washed over her naked body. Her nipples tingled and goose bumps broke out on her arms. That was fast. Had he taken time to undress? She cleared the water from her face with a quick swipe of her fingers then opened her eyes. Nazerel stood in front of her, stark naked, a miniature bar of soap resting on his palm.

  “You forgot the soap.” He punctuated the observation with a sexy smile.

  He was obviously hoping for a reaction, so she calmly took the soap from his hand and turned around. “Thanks, but I’m not quite finished. Give me another five minutes and the shower’s yours.” Despite her wildly pounding heart and the need spiraling through her body, she sounded casual, as if showering with her captor were an everyday occurrence.

  Moving up behind her, he pressed his chest against her back and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I have a better idea.” He snatched the soap out of her grasp and spun the tiny bar between his hands. With his arms still wrapped around her, he set the soap aside and began to lather her arms and shoulders. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and clean.”

  “Like hell you will!” She turned around and shoved against his chest. “Enough with these games. I’m your hostage not your pet. Stop trying to seduce me.”

  His slick fingers slid across her shoulder and down her back while his other arm banded her waist. “Am I to believe you felt nothing when we kissed last night? Were you pretending to enjoy my touch?”

  “I was staying alive.” She arched, using his chest as leverage, but the action only drove her pelvis into his. Each of her agitated movements emphasized the conspicuous hardness rapidly forming against her belly. So she stilled and glared up at him. “Let go of me.”

  “I’m not human.” His tone was deep and filled with meaning.

  “I’m aware.”

  “I sense things, smell things, taste things no human can understand.”

  She closed her eyes and balled her hands into fists. If this was where he told her she “tasted” like his mate, she was going to scream. “I don’t care what you think you know. I want out of this shower.”

  “Kiss me and I’ll let you go.” Challenge rippled through his voice and one of his hands slid down until his palm cupped her behind.

  Her body stirred as memories of the pleasure he’d given her the night before surged to the surface again. His hands caressing, his lips sucking, and his tongue… Gritting her teeth against the temptation, she took two slow breaths. “I don’t want to have sex with you.” She opened her eyes and met his smoldering gaze. “Has no one ever told you no before?”

  “You claim that you don’t want me. I think you do. Prove me wrong. Kiss me so deeply my head spins then shrug it off and walk away.”

  How could she resist such a challenge? The fastest way to shut up a bully was to confront them. And after last night it would feel damn good to put this jerk in his place. She slid her hands up to his shoulders and rocked to the balls of her feet. He bent his head, ready to take over, but she nipped his bottom lip.

  “I’m kissing you, remember?”

  “Then kiss me.”

  The growling roughness of his voice sent shivers through her body and still she refused to be rushed. She pressed her lips to his, hers barely parted. Then she moved her head back and forth and caressed his lips with hers. His hand fisted in the back of her hair, but he didn’t pull, didn’t try to control her.

  Empowered by his restraint, she traced the seam of his lips with the tip of her tongue. His cock bucked against her belly and she smiled. He tasted of mint, his breath hot and humid. She continued to tease his mouth while her hands began to wander. His body felt as incredible as it looked, every bulge and ridge of muscle covered with hot silky skin.

  She pushed her tongue all the way into his m
outh and inhaled his appreciative moan. His tongue slid against hers and his response grew more demanding. Before she lost herself in the need he ignited so effortlessly, she tore her mouth away from his and stepped back.

  He caught her wrist, his gaze narrowed, the rings glowing.

  “I’m not leaving,” she assured him and his expression turned quizzical. She reached over and grabbed the soap, quickly lathering up her hands. “I want to touch you, like you touched me. Are you brave enough to let me?”

  “If you mean to leave me wanting…”

  She closed her slick fingers around his rock-hard cock and he didn’t finish the warning. “Did you leave me wanting?” Her hand slid up and down, her thumb brushing across the sensitive tip at the top of each stroke.

  He grasped the back of her neck and drew her to his side so he could kiss her without interfering with the motion of her hand. She didn’t want to kiss him, wanted to remain in complete control while he lost himself to the demands of his body. But his mouth was warm, his kiss coaxing rather than demanding, and she couldn’t make herself pull away.

  She savored the tenderness threaded through his passion, amazed by the patience it revealed. His hips began to rock, driving his shaft with more force between the circle of her fingers. Her body ached, craving the fullness she stroked with her hand.

  “Oh gods.” His head dropped back and tension rippled down his body. She tightened her hand as his cock bucked against her fingers. His hand covered hers and tripled the speed of her stroking. Pearly fluid jetted from him with each frantic motion. He shuddered and came, then groaned and came some more.

  She watched his face as well as his body, fascinated by the agony of his surrender. He’d lost control, submitted to her touch just as quickly as she’d succumb to his. She felt dizzy and empty, yet giddy as she realized what she’d just done. She hadn’t needed restraints or compulsions. With nothing more Mystic than her kiss and her touch, she’d commanded the mighty Nazerel.

  Before he could recover from the rush, she threw back the curtain, snatched a towel off the rack and rushed into the outer room.