Act of Command: An Immortal Ops World Novel (PSI-Ops / Immortal Ops Book 4) (7 page)

She touched his hand. “Thank you. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to let me go.”

“I wish that I could, Mae,” he said, sorrow in his voice as we spoke.
 

She averted her gaze. “I just want to go home.”

“I know.” He left her alone with Brad standing close to the window.

“Evil vampires,” she said softly and then snorted. “Of course, why not, right?”

Brad’s lips twitched and then he smiled. He was handsome under all the hair. “I call this an average Friday night anymore.”

“With how long you’ve been held, I believe it,” she returned, grinning as well.

He put his hand to the window once more. “We’ll get through this, Mae.”

She wasn’t so sure he was right. Before long Caesar was back, bringing with him a sandwich and a large glass of water for her and then the same for Brad. She was too thirsty to resist the lure of fresh water. Waiting until Caesar left the room, she watched Brad as he lifted his food and sniffed it. He came to the window and tapped, pointing to her food and water.

“Bring it closer to the vent,” he said. “I need to smell it.”

She did as instructed.

“You can eat it,” he said, and then stood.

Mae did the same and eagerly gulped the water, her hand shaking the entire time. Brad drank his as well, his eyes closing as he savored it. They ate their sandwiches, both standing near the window, though neither could reach the other.
 

When they'd finished, Brad nodded to her. “Tell me more about you, Mae.”

She found herself telling him how she was an art major, all about her roommate Alice, and then about how she’d been stood up on the night she’d been taken.

Brad’s dark brows met. “A guy stood you up?”

“Yep. And then I was abducted by crazy people who have a psycho vampire leading their cause.” As she said it, Mae began to wonder if maybe Corbin had set her up. Had he been behind her capture? Had her mother’s instincts been that far off?

Brad grinned. “I’ve had worse dates.”

She laughed. “Do tell.”

“Once had a woman think it was a good idea to visit a petting zoo with me during a full moon.”

Mae lifted a brow. “End as bad as I think it did?”

“Oh yeah. What do you say we get through this and then I can hunt down the dick that stood you up and break his face?” he asked.

“Sounds like a plan. I’m not one who is normally for violence, but I might break the guy’s face on my own,” she managed, leaning against the window.

Chapter Five

“We have got to start monitoring Striker’s food intake!” said Malik Nasser, or Tut, as the rest of the team often called the Ancient Egyptian. He entered the training room, his eyes wide as he waved his hand in the air. Everything about Malik was suave and smooth. He had a look about him that one could not easily place, giving him an air of mystery with the ladies. He was the type of man who could charm the pants off any woman, and she never felt used when he was done with her.

And he was always done with them.

He wasn’t mated and seemed to have no designs on settling down. Corbin envied the ease with which Malik moved from woman to woman. Corbin had sex when his lion side demanded he sate the need, but no more. He disliked going through the motions of romancing a woman long enough to bed her and wasn’t comfortable with the idea of picking up a woman he didn’t know at a bar, taking her home and fucking her. He preferred the pretense of a relationship at the very least. Yet he had no desire for anything long term. No real burning desire for commitment.

Malik shook his head. “Seriously, the man is lethal.”

Corbin eyed James, who in turn shrugged. Neither knew what Malik was going on about.

“Och, I’m nae lethal,” said the Scotsman as he entered behind Malik, moving a newspaper in the air in a fanning motion. “Though, I do nae think any of you want to be visitin’ that restroom anytime soon. Might want to give it a wee bit to air out. Had beans for dinner and they were guid. Verra guid.”

James coughed to hide a laugh and Corbin groaned. Striker often reminded him of an overgrown child. The man was a competent warrior and soldier, even though he often seemed anything but. His partner in crime, Boomer, staggered in shortly after him, coughing and pounding on his chest.

“What the hell did you eat? Roadkill?” demanded Boomer, his long, blue-black hair down. The man was dressed head to toe in black. His go-to color. He was the only member of Corbin’s team who was also covered in piercings. At first glance, one would think Boomer was a Goth who took a wrong turn and landed in PSI headquarters. Miles Walsh was a skilled operative with a penchant for blowing things up, hence the nickname. His mate, Haven, was beautiful and normal. So very normal compared to Boomer’s oddities.

“I know, right?” asked Malik, giving Striker a side-eyed stare. “You should see a health care professional. That isn’t normal.”

With a smug grin of satisfaction, Striker held out his hand. “Pull my finger.”

Huffing, Malik walked towards Corbin. “Do something with him.”

“Would that I could,” answered Corbin. “Why are you all here? It’s late.”

The men glanced at one another and then back at him. “Duke called us. Told us the girls had made some headway with the information we brought back from the Middle East. And he mentioned a supernatural trafficking ring that was tied to the last one,” said Boomer, clearing his throat. “We were hoping there was enough there that we could maybe help some more people. Get some more of those perverted fucks off the street. We need to do something. We’re tired of feeling like we’re losing this battle.”

At the mention of Duke Marlow, the man appeared in the doorway, his dark brown hair looking as if he hadn’t bothered to run a brush through it. Knowing Duke, he hadn’t. He nodded to Corbin. “The girls helped the analysts. They’ve got some more information on some of the women currently being held for auction. I put a call in to Casey, he and Weston are going to go check out one close to them, and I phoned the Immortal Ops. Another is closer to them than us. I hope you don’t mind. Eadan and Wilson said they’d go have a looksee.”

Corbin nodded. All of the I-Ops were either expecting babies very soon or had just had them. As much as Corbin wanted to allow the men family time, this was a matter that required all hands on deck—especially since they were operating on limited manpower as they’d not been able to successfully weed out the traitors in the PSI. He had a hunch not one man would turn down the task when they realized what was at stake. Women were to be protected and cherished. Not sold to the highest bidder.

“Thank you,” said Corbin. “I’d rather not waste time with normal protocol, and besides, we need to keep this as close to the vest as possible with what has been going on around here lately. Our circle of trust is limited.”

“Agree,” replied Duke. “Listen, one woman is supposedly not being held too far from here, but her location is a little bit of a mystery. The techs are coming back with six possible spots she might be right now. The information doesn’t make a ton of sense. We could all split up and do some recon. Call in the others if our location is it. I think we should head out tonight. After what we saw over there, I don’t even want to think of another woman spending any extra time at the hands of these sick fucks.”

Corbin grabbed his workout bag. “Splitting up works. We need to avoid wasting any time. We’ll stay in constant contact.” He was about to say more when he heard the distinct sound of his cell phone buzzing in his gym bag. He knew everyone else in the room heard it as well with as sensitive as their hearing was. Keeping things private in a room full of shifters was difficult if not impossible.

Duke grunted. “Going to run off and take the call in private again? You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

Giving in, Corbin decided to take his lumps from his teammates like a man. He already knew who was calling him this time of night—his mother. The woman was centuries old and had never once troubled herself with learning the time zone differences between London and Corbin. With a deliberate slowness, he retrieved the phone, hoping his mother would give up before he answered. She didn’t. Not that he really thought she would. She was on a mission.

“Mother,” he said, giving all his teammates a hard look. His private calls as of late had hardly been nefarious, though with the increase in rogues in their rankings, the men were smart to question anything out of the ordinary.

Their eyes widened. They’d all met his mother and had a healthy understanding of why he would avoid the woman’s calls. She was scary when she wanted to be.

“Corbin, darling,” she said, her words drawn out. “Nice of you to answer. I was beginning to think America was without cell service. They are so backwards. It’s a wonder they have anything at all.”
 

She’d never been fond of his decision to move to America and she’d not been shy on saying as much. To his mother, America was home to the rebel rousers. Everyone was armed and everyone ate at least ten pounds of bacon daily. She’d never even once set foot upon its soil, but her preconceived notions had carried her this far. She’d not change her mind on the country anytime soon.
 

Corbin rubbed between his eyes, already tired of the conversation that had yet to start. They’d been having much the same one for weeks now. “Mother, its late here. I’m in bed.”

“Liar,” whispered Striker, sounding much like he was seven verses centuries old.

Boomer cast him a wide-eyed look. “If Colette hears you…”

Malik grimaced. “The skies may open and swallow us whole.”

“She’s stern, but sexy,” said Striker, this time considerably above a whisper. “I’d do her. You know, if she was nae already mated and all.”

“Dude, that’s his mother you’re talking about,” said Boomer, disgust in his voice.

“Aye, a MILF. That’s what she is, you know? Hot mom,” replied Striker.

Corbin shot him a hard look as his mother spoke, “Tell Dougal I think he’s passable for a Scot. And I see you are not in bed unless you have started bedding down with the likes of Dougal. Have you, darling? Is that why you are refusing to go on a dinner date with my friend’s daughter? You can tell me. I just need to know. Your father and I want to see you mated before we’re too old to know you’ve found happiness. And with the way you work nonstop, you will never find your mate. You need our help. Come home. I’m sure a beautiful woman is here just waiting for you to cross paths with her. Or man, if you prefer. Do you?”

Malik did his best to hide his laughter, obviously hearing everything Corbin’s mother had said. Striker didn’t bother. He bent, laughing hard and loud. “Och, prefer men. Dyin’ here. Wait, I’m nae yer boyfriend, Brit. Tell her as much. Yer nae my type. I like redheads and tits. I love tits.”

Boomer cast Corbin a sympathetic look. He’d spent nearly a year living with Corbin’s parents in the past and knew just how pushy Colette could be when she set her mind to something.

“Mother, I explained something came up with work. I had to leave the country. I didn’t get a choice. I left her a message telling her as much and I left you a message too. I only just got back stateside the other day and I haven’t had a chance to call and set up anything more.”

“Darling, you tend to lie to me to avoid dealing with me. How am I to know when you are and are not really able to make a date? Ellen is traveling. Last I heard she and her husband are in some chalet on a mountainside in France. They don’t have to worry about their daughter like I do my son. You are hopeless. You really should have spoken to her in person, Corbin. Communication in this day and age is so impersonal. It is amazing that women today allow men anywhere near them. They should demand more. Don’t you think?” she asked, her tone accusatory. “And really, Corbin, the lengths I go to in order to help you find your mate. One would think a son would be more appreciative of his mother.”

“Thank you for thinking of me,” he choked out. “The team is getting ready to head out right now on a mission. I’ll ring you when we’re done. We can find a time that is agreeable to both the young lady and myself.”

“Do you mean it?” she asked, her tone brighter.

“Yes, Mother. I mean it.”
 

“Oh, brilliant. You’ll adore her daughter, Corbin. I just
know
it. Do you still have her contact information?”

“Yes.” He wasn’t sure he still had it, but he wanted off the phone. Besides, he’d been unable to get the woman in the yellow dress out of his head. For two weeks she’d haunted his sleep—what little he’d managed to get. He had no interest in Ellen’s daughter Mae. He wanted the other woman.

“Corbin Amias Herman Jones, do not lie to me. A mother knows when her son is lying to her,” she said succinctly. He’d had enemy combatants shout, scream, threaten every degree of pain and suffering this side of death, yet none struck fear and dread in him like his mother when her voice simply raised one octave.

“Please give me her information again, Mother.” The zen feeling of the training room did nothing to calm his nerves. Not when his mother was involved.

“Mae Bertelot. As I told you before, she is smart. Bit younger than I’d have liked, but talented so I’ll overlook it. She’s studying art. She painted me the most beautiful picture. It’s in the billiard room. You would know if you ever came home to visit. You’ll like her.” She rattled off a contact number and even a home address for the woman. “Leaving her a message? Honestly, Corbin, you were raised better.”
 

“Yes, Mother,” he said.

“Repeat her contact information back to me so I know you have it.”

With a sigh, Corbin repeated the information. “I’ll ring her the second we’re back from our mission. I’ll make the date up to her. You’ve my word, Mother.” He hung up and glanced around the room. “She is on another of her matchmaking kicks. Be warned, she knows which of you are still single. Don’t think for a moment you’re safe from her help.”

“Does yer mother have any hot single friends?” asked Striker, licking his lower lip. “Make sure they’re her age too. Women her age know how to please a man.”