Sevrin Keire shifted her weight from one foot to the other and slid her hands down her thighs. Had she always been a voyeur or had the demands of her massive project created this hunger in her? The couple she observed sprawled on a rumpled bed in the shabby motel room adjacent to hers. Their wrestling match had finally ended and the man was enthusiastically claiming his prize. The woman was on her stomach, hips elevated by a stack of pillows. Her hands were bound by a velvet rope as the man thrust into her from behind. She looked dazed, flushed, utterly conquered, yet each of his strokes dragged a louder cry of pleasure from her throat.
Glancing at her companion, Sevrin felt a fresh wave of heat pass through her body. Nazerel watched the scene with stoic detachment. His tall muscular body remained tense and alert while his rugged features revealed nothing. As usual. She’d never encountered a more closely guarded person in her life.
“Did you install the observation window or was it here when you leased the complex?” His deep voice was as expressionless as his face. The “complex” was an aging motel in an unsavory part of downtown Las Vegas. But if things went as planned, she wouldn’t be trapped in this hovel for much longer. She had better, much more comfortable accommodations lined up. They just weren’t quite ready yet.
“We found the rooms just like this. You can see in from this side, but it looks like a large mirror from the other side.” He only nodded, so she shifted her gaze back to the entwined couple as a different sort of question echoed through her mind. What would it feel like to be pinned beneath Nazerel, a willing captive to his aggressive desires? Her pulse quickened every time she thought about being the focus of Nazerel’s need, his obsessive passion. He was the strongest, most powerful Shadow Assassin and she was project leader, not to mention a member of Rodymia’s royal family. A match between them had seemed obvious, at least to her. Yet he’d made it clear from the start that he had no intention of sharing her bed. Even after two months, and several lovers, the rejection still stung.
Shrugging aside the tangent, she returned her focus to the couple in the adjacent room. It had taken four days of continual seduction for the Shadow Assassin to subdue his potential mate. He’d wooed her with a dizzying combination of forceful control and tenderness until she’d finally succumb to his will. He’d used every trick in the book and some Sevrin had never imagined, but one thing had been clear from the beginning. He would not stop until he attained his goal. It had just been a matter of time.
Shadow Assassins were predators, bred for, and conditioned with, ruthless focus to accomplish any given task. And Sevrin was responsible for the Shadow Assassins. Not for their existence or their remarkable abilities, but for their presence here on Earth.
After their underground hideout had been found and their secret society dismantled, the Shadow Assassins had grown restless and discontent on their home world of Ontariese. They wanted to live by their own rules and hunt for their mates as they had for generations. Sevrin simply brought a select few to a place where that was still possible. All she asked in return was that they allowed her to study their unique ability to trigger metamorphosis in their potential mates.
It had been her original hope to identify the various components of the physiological process then replicate it in a lab. Unfortunately, her scientists hadn’t been able to duplicate the reaction, so she was stuck with live test subjects. At least for now. She’d had to contend with multiple setbacks, but she would never surrender her dream. One day she would possess paranormal abilities or she would die trying to attain them.
“When was she captured?” Nazerel looked at her, lust making his dark eyes shine. He wasn’t as unaffected by this as he appeared. She started to answer then he made a strangled sound and staggered back a step. “What the—” He shook his head, eyes tightly shut as he muttered something under his breath.
She looked around, unsure what had caused the odd reaction. They were alone in the motel room and the scene they were observing was nothing they hadn’t seen before, repeatedly. “Are you all right?”
Before Nazerel could answer, Lor dar Joon, leader of the Mystic Militia, and one of his men materialized right in front of them. Without warning, the unfamiliar Mystic launched an energy pulse directly into Nazerel’s face. He screamed, frantically blinking and shaking his head. Lor lunged for Nazerel, but Nazerel anticipated the attack and twisted out of reach. Then Nazerel shoved the first Mystic out of his way and grabbed her so fast and hard that she cried out.
Reality exploded in a burst of acceleration. Her breath escaped in a useless whoosh as they materialized in the desert. She didn’t even have time to inhale before Nazerel set them in motion again.
The second jump was longer, yet smoother, easier to tolerate. Images focused for an instant then stretched into distorted, shadowy shapes. It didn’t matter where he was taking her. Without his quick reflexes and exceptional range, she would be a prisoner of Lor dar Joon and his Mystic Militia right now.
That had been close, way too close.
Trembling with excitement and fear, Sevrin clung to Nazerel. His arms felt strong, his body long and lean pressed against hers. Many nights in the past two months she’d imagined what it would feel like to be embraced by him, touched and tasted by him. He would be a fierce lover, no tender seduction for Nazerel. No, he would stalk his mate with obsessive intensity and then claim her with consuming heat. And she wanted to be his prey so badly it was driving her insane!
They materialized in the darkened corner of her warehouse headquarters. He’d effortlessly teleported through the shields, a feat of which she hadn’t realized he was capable. How often had he let himself in and nosed around without her being aware of his presence? This breach should have set off alarms and brought guards running from all directions.
His face was red, especially around his eyes. “Are you all right?” Despite her annoyance, the question slipped out in a breathy whisper. Other than the mild discoloration, he seemed unharmed. “How did they find us?”
He released her so suddenly she stumbled back. “Angie was in my head,” he growled out the statement, clearly agitated by the realization. His features were naturally strong, but he looked deadly right now. “How did she acquire such skill in so short a time?”
“How did you flash past my safeguards?” she countered, all thoughts of sex evaporating beneath the heat of her temper. “Have you done this before?” Having a reluctant ally was one thing. She would not tolerate betrayal of any kind.
“She was in my head.” He stressed each word as if she hadn’t heard him the first time. “How did a human develop Mystic abilities in a few short days?”
“She’s only half human. You knew she had latent abilities; that’s why you wanted her so badly. Why are you surprised?” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at him. “Now answer my—”
“Latent abilities. Abilities that should have taken months, even years, to cultivate.” He began to pace, obviously having no intention of indulging her curiosity.
“We need to send backup for the others. There had to have been more than just the two we saw. Lor would never attack without his entire team. He’s not that reckless.”
“It’s too late,” Nazerel dismissed. “Anyone who didn’t flash out by now is beyond our reach.”
He was probably right, but she was annoyed by his callous attitude. “I’m going to send a car over just in case someone managed to hide and avoid—”
“Shadow Assassins don’t hide. We don’t retreat. We meet danger head-on.”
Rather than argue with him, she tried to step past him. He blocked her path.
“This is the second time the Mystics have almost instantaneously turned a helpless human into a threat.” He collared her throat with one long-fingered hand, exerting just enough pressure to restrain her without cutting off her air. “Tell me how they’re doing it.”
She grabbed his wrist with both hands and glared into his eyes. “I don’t know any more than you do.” It was unlikely he’d strangle her, but she had no doubt he would cause her pain. She couldn’t decide if the realization intimidated or excited her.
“We’re supposed to be partners, yet you’ve fed me nothing but lies and half-truths ever since I arrived on this planet.”
“When have I lied?” She kept her voice even as she stubbornly met his gaze.
“You’ve twisted the truth and kept vital information from me. That’s the same thing.” His fingers tensed then relaxed without releasing her. “You didn’t just locate these women once we’d agreed to work with you. I can’t figure out how, but you were responsible for their… The information you’ve complied on each woman goes back long before the Shadow Maze was liberated. Why have the Rodytes been watching these females?”
Everything really would be easier if Nazerel became a true ally. Trusting him with certain details was dangerous, but keeping him in the dark had only led to frustration for both of them. “Can we go downstairs and discus this like civilized people or should we—”
He slammed her back against the wall and leaned in close. “I haven’t decided if I’m going to let you live. Start talking.”
Never one to respond well to threats, she clenched her teeth and stared past him mutinously. His fingers tightened again and still she remained silent. Flickers of light danced before her eyes. Panic sent frantic impulses skittering through her body. Before she could act on them, his fingers gradually loosened and she sucked air back into her lungs. He couldn’t kill her and they both knew it. Like it or not he still needed her.
He grasped one of her wrists with his free hand and guided it between their bodies. “Is this what you want?” He pressed her fingers against the considerable bulge in the front of his jeans.
Her gaze snapped back to his and then narrowed. Her first instinct was to caress him, to encourage his unexpected strategy. She’d wanted him ever since she saw him and ached for him still. Even so, her pride wouldn’t let her give in. “You’ll be my whore if I tell you about the project? Is that what you’re offering me?” He snarled and scrambled back just as she knew he would. “I don’t barter with my body. I hadn’t realized you did.”
“I’m nobody’s whore.” He crossed his arms over his chest, feet planted far apart, the picture of indignant male. “Tell me about the project because I can’t protect my people if I don’t understand the situation. I’ve had enough of hints and innuendos. How long have Rodytes been on Earth and what are their plans for these women?”
He’d said Rodytes as if it were something toxic. She should be insulted; after all, her father once ruled the planet and her uncle ruled there still. Instead, she wrestled with the possibilities for another moment, then took a deep breath and told him how it all began.