Rebel Heat Page 9

  Phil wasn’t the only one who needed to know his plans had changed. He took out his comlink and entered Garin’s personal identification code. He waited until Garin entered the corresponding code securing the connection then kept his message short and to the point.

  Everything has unraveled. I need to arrive tomorrow morning.

  After a short pause, Garin responded, You’re always welcome. Knock before you enter.

  I have a reluctant guest. Is that a problem?

  How reluctant?

  There was no point in lying. She’d arrive in restraints. Very.

  He could almost hear Garin’s sigh. This wasn’t the first time his decisions had created problems for his cousin. Is she dangerous?

  Only a Rodyte would presume his guest was female. Not to you or your crew. She’s human. No Mystic abilities.

  Then she is entirely your responsibility.

  Understood.

  See you tomorrow.

  The connection terminated and Nazerel slipped the comlink back into his pocket. Morgan complicated his plans considerably. So why was he even considering taking her with him? Releasing his own heavy sigh, he reached out and caught a lock of her hair. The colorful strands curled around his finger, making his chest ache. Kissing her, touching her, tasting her had been blissful torture. Each of her sighs, each shiver of pleasure, had been surrendered begrudgingly. Her body had been unable to resist his skill, yet her heart remained unaffected.

  Her heart? What in the five hells was wrong with him. Why would he care about her heart? She was the enemy. She’d looked into his eyes and lied without flinching. He would never be able to trust her.

  Then why not leave her here?

  He dropped the curl and looked away from her lovely face. He should have left her at the campsite. He should lock her in this room tomorrow morning and go collect the package from Phil. Nazerel could be off this planet before she freed herself from the restraints. It was the smart thing to do.

  And yet even the thought of being separate from her was intolerable.

  She rolled to her back, her hands resting just below her breasts. He’d been with more females than he cared to remember. His father had been very indulgent when it came to carnal pleasures. Shadow Assassins were allowed so few indulgences. South had provided his son, and himself, with an ever changing selection of pleasure givers. Young ones who had been sold to his father by their families, mature ones eager to teach him all the different ways to arouse a female. Thin ones and voluptuous ones, sometimes more than one, Nazerel had experienced it all.

  So what was it about this female that he found so fascinating? Yes, she was physically pleasing, but he’d had sex with beautiful females before and they hadn’t left him desperate for more. Maybe that was the answer. He hadn’t actually had sex with Morgan. Their intimacies had been rudely interrupted by excruciating pain.

  Morautu. The Rodyte word echoed through his mind, mocking any other conclusion. How could Morgan be his mate? It didn’t make sense, yet he’d never felt like this before. Permanent mates weren’t allowed in the world below. Even so, the concept had secretly fascinated Nazerel for years. He’d never been with a woman who wanted only him, shared herself with only him and the thought was more than appeling.

  “What time is it?” she asked without opening her eyes.

  “Six thirty.”

  Her lids slowly opened and their gazes locked. Hers filled with purpose, though her expression remained calm. “Now that you’ve had time to reflect, do you agree that it’s time we part ways?”

  He laughed. She sounded as if she were speaking with an errant child. “I have no intention of releasing you until I’m well away from this wretched planet.”

  Her brows drew together and mouth tensed. “Then you’ll leave me with Phil tomorrow when you—”

  “So one of the Mystics can scramble his mind? Is that how you treat your friends?”

  Rolling to her side, she used her elbow to leverage herself from the mattress. “I’ll create more problems than I solve. I promise you that.”

  She was doubtlessly right. He just didn’t care. He’d never met a female like Morgan before and he had no intention of being parted from her. “Give me the number for Elias’ phone,” he ordered as he pulled the comlink back out of his pocket.

  “Why?”

  “I want to find out what happened to my men and your lieutenant is going to tell me.”

  She shook her head, eyes blazing defiance. “He won’t tell you anything.”

  “Don’t you want him to know that you’re still alive, that he should continue searching?”

  That got her attention. Her sensual lips pressed into a grim line and she averted her gaze as she did so often when she was deep in thought. “Put him on speaker. I want to hear both sides of the conversation.”

  He laughed. “Will you ever figure out who is master and who is the slave?”

  “It’s doubtful.”

  “I can reach into your mind and take the number, but it has been many years since I used those skills. It will hurt like fire and likely cause damage. What do you gain by refusing this simple request?”

  His lie must have been believable. She scooted back, nearly off the bed, before she spoke again. “It wasn’t a request. It was an order.”

  He didn’t have time for her obstinacy. “Will you please tell me Elias’ number, so I can inform him that you’re still alive?”

  With obvious reluctance she told him the number. He didn’t really care if she heard what Elias said, but he wasn’t willing to reward her insubordination, so he didn’t activate the speaker.

  The call connected and Elias snapped, “Who is this? How did you get this number?”

  “I’ll confirm that your boss still lives if you accurately detail the condition of my team members.”

  “Nazerel.” He made the name sound profane. “Your team has been obliterated. So has Team East. All of the hunters are in custody and Sevrin is dead. It’s over. Release Morgan now and you might come out of this alive.”

  Infuriated by the human’s arrogance, he lashed out in the only way he could. “Sorry, I have other plans for Morgan.”

  “Let me speak with her. You said you’d provide proof of life.”

  Morgan held out her hand expectantly. She could obviously hear enough of what Elias said to guess at the rest.

  Your team has been obliterated. It’s over. The hateful words echoed through his mind like the resonant clang of a gong.

  Stunned by grief and frustration, Nazerel ignored her persistent gestures. “It took some convincing, but she freed me from the collar. We’re on our way off this useless rock.”

  “Well, Varrik is hot on your trail, so you better watch your back.”

  Varrik. Of course they’d send for Varrik. It took a Shadow Assassin to find a Shadow Assassin. That had been their trouble all along. Anger pushed through his regret and fury made him reckless. “Morgan’s still a little sore after last night, but she’s alive. I’m developing quite a taste for human pussy.”

  Morgan gasped and tried to grab the comlink out of his hand.

  Elias cursed profusely then shouted, “Let me talk to her!”

  “Elias, I think we’re still in—”

  He cut off the call. Elias had likely heard Morgan’s indignant yell, but Nazerel could take no more of the human’s venom. Elias had said Team South was “obliterated” yet Nazerel refused to believe they were dead. The Mystic Militia didn’t work that way. They had done their best to capture each hunter and take them back to Ontariese. His men would have fought ferociously, but the Mystics would have incapacitated not murdered them. As long as they drew breath, there was still hope.

  “Just when I think you can’t stoop any lower, you prove me wrong.”

  He ignored the disappointment in her eyes and the frustration gnawing at his belly. He wasn’t surprised by anything Elias had told him. Morgan had basically said the same thing last night. And both reports substantiated the
clues he’d dug up on his own. Still, having the defeat confirmed made it real. His entire team was in enemy hands, beyond his reach, if not beyond his influence.

  And he was surprised it had taken Varrik this long to join the hunt. The traitor had been the obvious choice from the beginning.

  Grasping her bound wrists, he pulled her to the edge of the bed and unfastened the chain from around her waist.

  “You’re vile,” she sneered. “Worse than my reports indicated.”

  “Why do you sound surprised? I’m a Shadow Assassin, worst of the worst. Everyone knows I’m a murderous animal.”

  She tugged against his hold, fear flickering through her anger. “There is no reason for you to take me with you.”

  “You’re female. Do I need any other reason?”

  “Yes,” she cried. “Why needlessly endanger yourself? This makes no sense.”

  “It’s like I told Elias. I’ve developed a taste for human—”

  “Don’t you dare say it again.” She raised both hands as if she would backhand him, cuffs and all.

  Rather than react to the provocation, he shoved her to her back and quickly unzipped her pants.

  “What are you doing?” She grabbed his hands, fingernails digging into his skin.

  “Calm down.” He pushed her hands aside and grabbed the sides of her pants. “I’m just discouraging you from running away.” She kicked and wiggled, but he pulled off her pants then snatched off her socks. He’d made her take off her boots shortly after they arrived. He grabbed her bound wrists and pulled her back up to a seated position. “Do I need to take the T-shirt too?”

  “No.”

  He searched her gaze then realized the futility of the action. He hadn’t been able to tell she was lying the night before. Why did he think he could now? Gathering up her garments and boots, he stuffed everything in the wardrobe. Then he unplugged the phone and placed it in the wardrobe as well. Finally, he wrapped the chain around the handles and secured the chain with the tiny padlock. She could probably pry off the hinges if she had enough time, but this would definitely slow her down. Unless she chose to take off half-naked, hands bound and barefoot as well, which was still a possibility. He wouldn’t put anything past Morgan.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, watching him through narrowed eyes. “Do you believe me now?” When she finally spoke her tone was calm and collected. “The fight is over. Your side lost.”

  “I’m hungry.”

  Pressing her legs together, she pulled the T-shirt down over her knees.

  He chuckled. “I was thinking pizza, but if you’d rather continue what I started in the tent, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

  “There was no reason for you to say that to Elias. Now he’ll think… It was just cruel.”

  “I’m feeling cruel at the moment, so don’t provoke me.” He crossed to the desk and found a laminated flyer for a pizza delivery shop. “Do you care what I put on it?”

  “Onions tear up my stomach and I’m not a fan of anchovies.”

  He placed the order then slipped his comlink back into his pocket. The situation wasn’t nearly as hopeless as Morgan presumed. He’d made arrangements for his escape even before he came to Earth. Only a fool would blindly trust a complete stranger. And Nazerel was no fool. The hardest part was that most of his men didn’t realize he hadn’t deserted them. A few had shipped out with him often enough to know he never left anything to chance. The others would just have to believe the worst until his actions proved them wrong.

  “What is Phil buying for you?” She’d moved from the bed to one of the chairs arranged around a small round table.

  It didn’t matter where she sat. One look at those long, toned legs and his mind carried them back to the bed. She tried to make herself less attractive, but her efforts were futile. The woman was pleasure personified. So why had no one claimed her? Perhaps she had been claimed at one point, but her mate died. That would explain her resistance to being touched and touching in return.

  She’d rebel against a direct question on such a personal subject, so he answered her question instead. “Phil is buying me an insurance policy of sorts. How long have you been chasing aliens?”

  “Wasn’t that in my dossier? You said you’d learned all about Morgan Hoyt. You just didn’t realize I was female.”

  “I know you started as a profiler for the FBI, but there weren’t a lot of details about your taskforce.”

  Her brows arched and a smile teased the corners of her utterly kissable mouth. “That’s because it doesn’t officially exist. I’m surprised you found mention of it at all. I have people in my IT department who routinely scrubs that sort of information.”

  “What drew you to criminal investigation? It’s an odd occupation for a female.”

  “Maybe on Ontariese. Earth is more open-minded.”

  He joined her at the table. His primary reason for the conversation was to keep his mind off how badly he wanted her, but he was also curious. Though lacking many details, the information he’d dug up on Morgan Hoyt had made him picture a middle-aged man with military bearing and a no-nonsense attitude. It was hard to believe this delicate female had earned such power and authority. “Ignore my sexist attitude. Why did you become an investigator?”

  “Why do you care? You’ve made it obvious that females only had one purpose in the world below.”

  “That’s not true.” He grinned. “They had two. We had pleasure givers as well as mates.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “Then stop dodging the question. I told you everything you wanted to know about me. Now it’s your turn to share.”

  She rested her hands on the table and fiddled with her fingernails. “My mother is a workaholic and my father was a drunk. It gave me a rather warped perspective of life. Mom was never around because she always had some late-night meeting or out-of-town conference she couldn’t afford to miss. It didn’t take long to realize she was simply avoiding her husband.” There was no emotion in her tone. She sounded hollow, alone.

  “Why did she remain bonded to such a man?”

  One of her shoulders lifted in an unconvincing shrug. “She was a good Catholic girl, so she didn’t have a choice.”

  “I don’t understand the reference. Is Catholic a race or a religion?”

  “It’s a religion with lots of unbendable rules. Devout Catholics, especially of my mother’s generation, find divorce unthinkable. Besides, Dad wasn’t abusive. He was just useless.”

  “Did you have siblings?”

  She shook her head. “The Catholic religion also frowns on birth control, but Mom quickly realized she had two dependents, not one, and she was solely responsible for both. Her ambition grew out of a sense of responsibility, but it was an escape as well. She was embarrassed and exasperated by her husband, so she made a life for herself apart from him. They might have lived under the same roof, but they weren’t a real couple.”

  “I want to know about you, not your parents.” Their gazes locked and he was shocked to realize how much he meant the statement. He really did what to know more about her, to understand the forces that drove her, had made her so strong.

  Both her shoulders lifted this time and still her indifference was unconvincing. “My story isn’t unusual or particularly interesting.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  Her tongue touched her bottom lip and she lowered her gaze. “I was what’s known as a latchkey kid. I’d let myself in to our house after school and ignore my father who was usually passed out on the couch when he wasn’t at one of his favorite bars. Then I’d spend the next four or five hours in my bedroom alone entertaining myself. I was fed and clothed. I always had what I needed and most of the things I wanted. My childhood wasn’t that bad.”

  “Weren’t you lonely? Isolation like that had to be hard on a child.” His childhood had been filled with challenges and cruel discipline. Still, he’d been surrounded by people who cared for and supported him. />
  “It was horribly lonely, but it also made me self-sufficient and unafraid.”

  Thinking of her as a neglected child only made him angry at her parents. He wanted to find them and shake some sense into them, yet that wasn’t the purpose for this conversation. “How did your isolation ignite an interest in investigation?”

  “It was a gradual progression. I was eleven when I was picked up by the police for the first time. Shoplifting. Luckily, the shop owner only wanted to scare me, so he didn’t press charges. My mother was horrified and immediately sent me to therapy. The councilor helped me understand that the actions of my parents didn’t need to define my life.”

  “That’s a lesson many people never learn.”

  She nodded. “I understood what she meant, but it took many years for me to implement the concept.”

  “Then your misbehavior continued?”

  “Of course. I was desperate for attention and determined to get it anyway I could.”

  It was easy to see where her story led. It was a fundamental law of nature. Without energy, or in this case direction, any situation deteriorated into chaos. “Your mother continued to ignore you and delegate your care to others?”

  “When my ‘antics’—her favorite word for my misbehavior—became more outrageous, Mom sent me to a boarding school.”

  “I’ve read about such places. From Lowood in Jane Eyre to Harry Potter’s Hogwarts, few of them are pleasant.”

  She smiled, her gaze returning to his face. “Don’t believe everything you read or see on TV. Boarding school was the best thing that ever happened to me. With the help of a really good guidance counselor, I was able to explore my aptitudes and interests. I originally thought I wanted to be a lawyer, but I found criminals more interesting than the laws that protect them.”

  “Human laws protect the criminals? Shouldn’t laws protect the victims and punish the criminals?”

  “Oh, they should, but too often people manipulate the system or the system is just so convoluted that it’s ineffective. Anyway, I realized my personality required something more hands-on than being a lawyer so I investigated other options.”