Chosen by Sin (11 page)

Nausea made her stomach heave and she bolted to the private bathroom on
the other side of her lab. She dry heaved over the toilet, shudders racking her
body. When she finally straightened, her reflection in the mirror was ghostly
pale. The lack of color, combined with her silver hair that she hadn’t had a
chance to dye since returning from America, made her look older. Old.

She dampened a towel and pressed it against her face, closing her eyes
when another wave of nausea swept over her. Shakily, she clung to the edge of
the sink and locked her knees.

What was going on?

She was never sick. The only times she’d ever been sick was when she’d
been pregnant.

Pregnant.

With Dex’s child?

Instantly, she remembered the trickle of moisture on her thigh, proof
the condom he’d used had broken.

Her shocked gaze stared back at her from the mirror, her silver pupils
expanding.

Impossible. Not because it was so soon for her to know she’d
conceived—fertilization occurred almost instantly. Moreover, vampires
were extremely connected to their bodies and could almost always sense the
moment a sperm fertilized an egg.

But she hadn’t. And she wasn’t supposed to be able to conceive at all.
That’s what the doctors had told her.

Impossible.

It was the same thing she’d thought as she’d stared at Dex’s blood
results. And as those proved, nature loved a good laugh.

FBI BUILDING

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

“Remember, Dex,” Mahone said during their final briefing on Dex’s
assignment. “Flying to Paris is about gathering intel only. The shape-shifters
aren’t exactly a group the Bureau is prepared to trust. Still, reliable sources
overseas tell us there’s more infighting than ever.”

“You’ve reminded me of this every hour on the hour. I’ve made several
good connections over the past few days. I’m not stupid, Mahone.”

“But you do have a problem blending in, even when you’re in the States.
You’ll stand out even more in France, where Otherborn aren’t even publicly
acknowledged.”

It didn’t matter where they were—none of the Para-Ops team
blended in. But Dex just shrugged.

He got what Mahone was saying loud and clear.

Forget that the team’s leader, Knox Devereaux, had a vampire’s silver
hair and pupils, that Wraith had once had blue skin and hazed-over eyes, or
that O’Flare was an “11” on a scale of one to ten for sexual appeal. Dex was
the team’s problem child. That’s what Mahone meant, and that suited Dex just
fine.

“Usually,” Dex pointed out, “I have no reason to blend in. Besides, I
told you I have another motive for going to Paris now. Once I get you the
information you want, I’m going to take some time off. Establishing my presence
overseas will allow the agency to deny my involvement in the imminent murder of
a certain U.S. were leader. As such, blending in isn’t what I’m looking to do.”

Mahone narrowed his eyes in warning, causing Dex to blow out an
impatient breath. Yeah, okay fine. To get him to join the Para-Ops team, Mahone
had agreed to look the other way when Dex exacted revenge against his
grandfather, but such things were normally kept on the hush hush. It was yet
another example of Dex’s inability to blend, he supposed, but whatever. He’d
get the job done. Both jobs. He always did.

“Your international travels will provide you some kind of alibi,”
Mahone confirmed. “At least one the Bureau can use publicly. But that’s a
secondary goal. We still need you to exercise restraint with the
shape-shifters. And that’s even assuming they’ll talk to you.”

“Don’t worry. They’ll talk to me. I’ve already made contact with a
shape-shifter in France and he’s assured me he has influence with the locals
there.”

“I’m sure you’ll wield your considerable powers of persuasion. Then you
can tackle your sudden need to deal with personal business.”

Dex’s mouth tightened. “Wanting to avenge my mother’s death isn’t
sudden. I’ve put it off for far too long.” He might have momentarily put the
task aside, but after the close call Wraith had suffered, Dex had been reminded
that even an immortal, let alone a half-breed were, had limited time on Earth.
Rurik’s appearance in his dream had merely reinforced the thought. Vengeance
had to be swift or it grew cold, especially when the killer’s blood coursed
through his own veins. As it was, Dex had already waited decades to get his
revenge.

“Just remember, this might not be a quick and easy assignment. Despite
your confidence, I have no doubt you’ll meet resistance from these foreign
shape-shifters. If you’re going to be distracted because of this revenge, or
even your arrangement with Lucy—”

“I’ll get you the information you need, Mahone.”

Mahone nodded. “Good. Because frankly, I’ll be a little too busy
dealing with other matters.”

“Like?”

“Like filling the holes in the Para-Ops team that Caleb and Wraith have
made. Like trying to track Knox’s brother and see what he’s managed to find out
about the Quorum. Like trying to convince Knox that Felicia is better protected
in our hands than solely in his.”

Dex didn’t even bother snorting at that one. So long as there was a
remote chance that the Quorum was still after Felicia, Knox wouldn’t let her
out of his sight.

It did pose a problem, however, given that the Para-Ops team was now
down four of its six members. Strangely, as hostile as their initial team
meeting had been, Dex wasn’t keen on bringing strangers into the fold. “You’re
not replacing any of them permanently are you?”

Mahone ran a hand through his dark hair. “No. At least, I don’t think
so. Wraith says she’s done, but I bet with time she’ll change her mind. Still,
it’s a good sign that the President’s willing to up the team members. We’re
making a good impression on him.”

“So why the troubled expression? You worrying about something I need to
know about?”

Mahone looked tempted, as if he wanted to unload a huge burden from his
shoulders. But then he, like Dex had moments ago, affected indifference with a
shrug. “Worrying? That’s part of the job, worrying what kind of surprises you
guys are going to be throwing at me next.”

“There’s no surprise where I’m concerned. I just want what you’ve
promised, Mahone. You owe me.”

“You never let me forget, Hunt. None of you do. I have a feeling the
same will be true of my new recruits.” Mahone said it with an edge of amusement
that rubbed Dex the wrong way.

Gritting his teeth and trying to play nice, mainly because he was
curious, Dex asked, “Who are these new recruits you’re targeting?”

Mahone’s smile was self-satisfied. “Classified information for the
moment.”

“Right.” Annoyance warred with his own sense of humor. He supposed
Mahone had to get his jollies somewhere. Lord knows the band of misfits he’d
assembled gave him enough grief without any of them trying. Dex wouldn’t want
Mahone’s job for all the money and fame in the world. “You’ll keep an eye on
Lucy?”

“Lucy’s perfectly able to keep an eye on herself. She’ll be fine. Or do
you have some reason to worry that she won’t be? Has she been—I don’t
know—
ill
that you’re aware of?”

What did Mahone mean about Lucy having been ill? Dex didn’t know why,
but he suddenly felt like he was playing a game he didn’t know the rules to.
“She’s pretty shaken up by all that stuff that went down with the felines. But
as far as I know, her health is normal.”

Mahone nodded, but he still looked slightly troubled. Even so, he
reassured Dex, saying, “She’ll be doing some intel, same as you, only here in
the States. Talk to the shape-shifters. Find out what’s got them turning
against one another. Get back here as soon as you can with the information we
need and we’ll be able to set our course of action.”

“Right.” But just as Dex turned, Mahone called out.

“And Hunt?”

Dex cocked a brow at the human.

“Watch yourself. I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Something’s coming.
Something none of us are prepared for. At least not yet.”

Dex frowned. Again, that feeling of being manipulated. Or at the very
least, kept in the dark. But what else was new with Mahone. If the guy had
secrets he was keeping, nothing Dex could say or do would drag them out of him.
He just hoped Mahone’s secrets didn’t end up complicating Dex’s life even more.
“Between each of us, we’ve danced with the devil more times than I can count.
Whatever’s got the shape-shifters out of sorts, we’ll contain it.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Dex left, but as he did, he heard Mahone mutter under his breath,
“Problem is, I don’t think you are.”

***

Mahone’s chest ached with a burning sensation as he watched Dex leave.

If he didn’t know better, he’d say the sensation was guilt. Even if it
was, so be it. After all, any guilt he felt was well deserved.

When Jesmina Martin had called him, proposing an exchange of money for
information, there was no way Mahone could have guessed just how bountiful the
information she possessed really was. Or that it would have concerned one of
his own team members.

According to Jesmina, Bodin of Hammersham had abandoned his grandson in
order to protect him because he believed Dex possessed the gift of immortality.
A gift Jesmina hoped to replicate with her test tubes and microscopes. All of
her theories were based on the whispered accounts of an old legend, the same
legend that predicted a werewolf with an identity crisis would save the world
by shepherding a bunch of dark demons back to hell.

What she hadn’t known, at least as far as Mahone could decipher, was
that shape-shifters were killing each other and that dark magic and incantation
spells were somehow involved. But Mahone had certainly made the connection fast
enough.

Even if it was only speculation at this point, it was speculation
accompanied by a gut feeling that he was right. And Mahone paid attention to
his gut feelings. If what he suspected was true, shape-shifters were killing
other shape-shifters based on what they truly believed was self-defense. They
were killing their own in order to stop those in their midst from bringing dark
spirits back to earth.

When he thought about it, it made sense. As Walker had recognized days
ago, shape-shifters were mostly a mystery to the rest of the world. That’s how
everyone preferred it. Shape-shifters were scary not only because of their
alien-like exteriors, but because they could travel undetected anywhere and
anytime they wanted. They could disguise themselves as someone’s brother,
mother, or lover, and most people would never know it. Because they were the
most feared and least understood Otherborn, they were also the most persecuted.

Since they’d seemed relatively peaceful, everyone had pretty much
ignored the threat they posed up to now. That had been a huge mistake.

If the shape-shifters couldn’t find a place among the living, why not
with the dead? And why not use the dead to avenge themselves against all the
living creatures who’d fucked you over in the first place?

A legend. Dex. Dark demons. Shape-shifters performing rituals to raise
dark demons.

It had to be more than coincidence.

He’d wait to see if Dex made the same connection—without any help
from Mahone. And who knew? Maybe Jesmina would play a role in things, which
would validate Mahone’s decision to keep their little arrangement a secret from
Dex.

Of course, Dex hadn’t mentioned a single word about Jesmina to Mahone,
but Mahone was no fool. He knew Dex wouldn’t be able to resist seeing the
vampire again. Mahone had followed Dex the night he’d gone to see Jes at her
hotel, and Dex had been inside her hotel room far longer than it would have
taken Jesmina to take the samples of blood she’d been after.

However he got the information, Mahone was counting on Dex bringing him
back something useful. And if the “good” shape-shifters wouldn’t open up to
him? Well, Mahone had prepared for that contingency, too.

By strategically leaking Jesmina’s suspicions about Dex to several
shape-shifters, Mahone was gambling that word would get around and that the
“bad” shape-shifters would go after Dex themselves. After all, what better way
to get those shape-shifters’ attention than to dangle the promise of
immortality in front of them. Immortality not just for them, but for the dark
spirits they raised.

Of course, that meant others might hear the gossip and go after Dex,
too. In effect, Mahone had probably unleashed a whole hella-lotta nasty on the
werebeast. Mahone couldn’t afford to feel regret or to hesitate because of it.

Mahone would send Dex backup if Dex needed it, but Mahone already had a
Goddess threatening him with world-annihilation. Now he had to deal with the
possibility that shape-shifters were plotting an apocalyptic revolution of
their own. He had nothing to rely on but his own instincts and machinations. It
might make him untrustworthy and it might result in his team members dying or
hating him, most of all Dex Hunt, but at this point Mahone had no choice.

The pitcher was on the mound and he was stepping up to the plate.

He just hoped when the time came, Essenia would have his back. The only
other alternative was her bashing him in the head with the bat then spitting on
his body before she wiped out every single living thing on earth.

Game. On.

VAMPIRE DOME

PORTLAND, OREGON

Dharmire Knox Devereaux stared at his wife, Felicia Locke Devereaux,
with an expression that could only be described as horror.

She sighed and murmured, “I guess the honeymoon really is over.”

“If you honestly think I’m letting you leave here, then yes.”

Here, being their home. The Vampire Dome. A place Felicia loved, but
not one she was willing to become her prison. She understood Knox wasn’t trying
to imprison her. He loved her. He was trying to protect her. And she loved him
even more because of that. She just couldn’t allow it to continue any longer.