Chosen by Sin (13 page)

“Our kind is easy to spot when you know what to look for. Besides, he’s
in a place where shape-shifters cannot take another’s form. On consecrated ground.
”

Well, that was something new. “No shit?”

“No shit. So that answers your question, why there and not here.”

He supposed so. “So we’re going to a church?”

“We’re going to a major church. The second highest point in the city.
The Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris.” Without another word, the
shape-shifter turned and began walking again. 

Within minutes Dex saw it, glowing in the twilight like a beacon. A
long path of stairs, edged on either side by a green lawn, led to the majestic
building. Made of white travertine, with several domes and arched details, it
was a massive structure, its elaborate architecture gentled by its uniform
color, interrupted only by the pale green of two massive bronze figures on
horseback. The shape-shifter turned and caught him looking at them.

“They are our national saints, Joan of Arc and King Saint Louis IX.”

“Uh huh.” As they walked around the building, Dex’s eye caught another
flash of green. Wings. “And that?”

“The Archangel Michael, defeating the serpent. You can see it there,
curled around his legs. A symbol for the devil.”

It looked more like a crocodile than a serpent. But when Dex said
nothing, the shape-shifter stopped. “Do you believe in the devil, Mr. Hunt?”

Dex immediately thought of his grandfather. The man who’d abandoned
him. Hated him. “I believe in evil. Evil that dwells in everyone and
everything. Evil that’s harbored in little old women. Fathers. Even small
children. But just as there can be false Gods, there are false devils, as well.
Scapegoats. Your kind knows that just as much as my kind.”

“Your kind?”

“Half-breeds. Werebeasts. You can’t tell me you don’t—” Movement.
A shadow. Dex narrowed his eyes. “What the—”

At Dex’s sudden exclamation, the shape-shifter whirled in a panic, its
gaze flying to the statue of the Archangel. “What do you see?”

Dex shook his head. “It’s just—I thought I saw the serpent move.”

The shape-shifter’s eyes widened. “We must go. Hurry. Around this way.
We must go to the great bell, the Savoyarde.” He rushed up yet another steep
expanse of steps leading to ceiling high bronze doors with foliage designs.
When he reached the doors, he turned back to Dex. “Come on.”

Dex followed him. When he stepped into the dim interior, he sucked in a
breath. The entire ceiling was covered with paint in vibrant blues, golds, and
white. The figure of Jesus, arms outstretched, beckoned to him, the glow of his
halo virtually hypnotic so that Dex initially didn’t spot the triad of
shape-shifters that stood solemnly in front of the altar.

“
Merde
,” Trosseau whispered when
he saw them.

Dex grunted. “I guess that means you weren’t expecting them. Who are
they?”

“
Diregeants
. Regional leaders. Powerful ones.”

Automatically, Dex spread his legs. Balanced his body. Prepared for
attack. “Are they dangerous?”

“Not the way you mean. They’re probably more interested in shutting me
up than harming you.”

“And your informant?”

Trosseau looked at Dex and shrugged. “Gone, I’m sure.”

“Why don’t you confirm that while I have a little talk with your
friends here?”

“But—”

Dex narrowed his eyes and Trosseau nodded jerkily. “Yes. I’ll do that.
But be careful. They hold great influence among my kind. Harming one of them
will only make your job more difficult. I’ll meet you out front.” With a final
glance at the trio in front of them, Trosseau backed out of the building.

Dex strode forward, noting that the shifters wore matching white robes
resembling the habits of monks only of much finer material. Given the altar in
the background, their dress made him think of animal sacrifices and pagan
rituals. A shiver streaked up his spine. “My name is Dex Hunt. I work for the
FBI.”

The shape-shifter in the center inclined his head so he resembled a
royal speaking to a peasant. The scent of roses drifted around them, intense
and sickly sweet, a stark contrast to their blank expressions. “We know who you
are, Mr. Hunt. We know why you’re here, as well. We do not need assistance from
outsiders.”

“No assistance has been offered. Yet. But I’ll admit you’ve got my
government curious. Fratricide tends to do that.”

“Curious or not, your trip here will achieve nothing.”

“Huh. So you just plan on killing each other until you settle whatever
disagreement you’re having among yourselves?”

All three shape-shifters smirked, their expressions morphing so swiftly
and simultaneously it was eerie. The middle one continued to speak for them. “A
laughable question coming from one whose nation was recently at war.”

“One whose nation is trying its damndest to promote peace,” Dex
corrected.

“With little success.”

“I suppose that’s subject to debate.”

“We are no more interested in debate than we are in your help,” the
same shape-shifter said.

Tilting his head, Dex studied them, certain he saw genuine regret
reflected in their eyes. So they wanted help? What was stopping them from
asking for it? “You’re scared shitless,” Dex accused, not missing the way each
of them looked away. “What’s this ‘bridging’ about?”

The middle shape-shifter, obviously the leader of the trio, shook his
head. “Trosseau has said too much as it is. Go back home, Mr. Hunt.”

“And what of Trosseau’s informant? The one who wanted to talk to me? Is
he under your custody and control now?”

“You and your countrymen have done little for our kind in the United
States. We have learned to rely on ourselves for protection. We will continue
to do so. Please remind Trosseau of that when you join him outside.”

“And yet you’ve dodged my question. Where is Trosseau’s informant?”

They said nothing, simply stared at him without blinking. Dex growled
in frustration. “Look, if you tell me what’s going on, I might be able to
help.”

The middle shape-shifter sucked in a breath while the other two cast
their gazes downward. “At what price? As you said, we’re killing our own kind.
That doesn’t happen unless something momentous is at stake. Unless we have no
other choice. Right now, we have no choice. And we will trust no one, let alone
a half-breed were.”

Ahh, there it was. The slur Dex had been waiting for. Funny how it
still managed to rattle his cage. Instinctively, he clenched his fists and
teeth. Yet the desperation radiating from the shape-shifters made it easier for
Dex to keep his cool. It was obvious he wasn’t going to get anything from them
now, but he was right. They were desperate, and that was something he could
work with. He had time. And he had Trosseau.

“I’m staying in Paris. I won’t be hard to find when you change your
minds.”

He half turned, but the shape-shifter’s voice stopped him. “Staying in
Paris might not be a good idea, Mr. Hunt. If I were you, I’d return to the
States as soon as possible.”

“Is that a threat?” Dex grinned and stepped forward. “Because if it is,
I’m not opposed to answering it.”

None of them so much as flinched. “It’s no threat,” the middle one
said. “It’s merely a suggestion. That which plagues us has spread to the U.S.
Perhaps instead of relying on an informant overseas, you should go to your own
kind for information.
Obserwować Demonie Krawcy
.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Again, only the middle shape-shifter answered. “Go, Mr. Hunt. Trosseau
waits.”

MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

Zeph Prime had always lived in his big brother’s shadow.

Many, including Zeph’s father, Dante Prime, had recognized that fact
and sought to turn Zeph against Knox. Knox, after all, was a dharmire, one
whose human father had been accused of betraying the vampire race. Even so,
Knox was the Vampire Queen’s firstborn and heir to her throne. Zeph, a full
vampire but the product of a mere mating pair between the Queen and his father,
was relegated to second best. As such, it should have been easy for Zeph to
hate his half brother.

But all Zeph had ever felt for Knox was admiration.

Knox looked after his family and his clan because it was his duty, but
also because he loved them. Right now, Zeph couldn’t help wondering if Knox’s
duty or love would enable him to do what Zeph was about to do.

Given that Zeph could barely stand to do it himself, he wasn’t so sure.

“Bite me. Do it,” the human female underneath him ordered as her nails
raked across his back. Zeph gathered her wrists in one hand and slammed them
above her head. Though his gaze never strayed from hers, he was ever aware of
her bodyguards standing in the shadows with vamp stun guns trained on him. But
he didn’t let their presence inhibit him. Without an express command from their
mistress, they wouldn’t intervene, not even if Zeph got rough with her. By now
they knew the rougher the sex was, the more she liked it.

“Don’t give me orders,” he snapped. “Not in bed.”

Vanessa Morrison, the First Lady of the United States, struggled vainly
against his grip, her mouth twisting into an ugly sneer. “I’ll command you
whenever I want, wherever I want. Don’t forget you work for me.”

“I work for the Quorum, not for you,” Zeph reminded her. “And I’ll do
that only while it serves my purposes. This,” he said as he thrust deeper into
her, causing her back to bow and a moan of excitement to pour from her, “isn’t
part of my job description, and I’m not even sure why I’m doing it.”

“You’re doing it because you know how powerful I am and you crave that
power. You crave the power that your brother has. Isn’t that why you’re here?
Isn’t it the reason for everything you do?”

It was almost funny how one-dimensional people thought he was. If Knox
only knew how much impact he had on Zeph’s life, he’d laugh his ass off. Well,
he’d have laughed at any other time. Right now Knox was too pissed at Zeph for
working with Mahone without his knowledge, even though Zeph was just trying to
bring Quorum down. But Zeph wasn’t going to apologize for doing his part to
help the world. He might not be a member of an elite Para-Ops team, but he did
have his usefulness.

Unfortunately, right now that usefulness entailed fucking the First
Lady because she also happened to be a powerful and elite member of the Quorum,
a group of humans bent on Otherborn eradication.

When this mission was over, he’d have to practically parboil himself to
get the stink of her off him. Even now, with her grinding her hips and licking
his ear, his erection began to deflate.

Damn it, focus, Zeph.

Focus.

Focus on someone you
would
want
under you.

And he did.

He imagined
her
.

Knox’s wife.

Felicia. Red hair. Blue eyes. Porcelain skin.

He’d wanted her for forever, but Felicia had always been in love with
Knox, even when Knox had been married to someone else. If there was anything
Zeph resented his brother for, it was having Felicia’s love, but that didn’t taint
his feelings for his brother. Rather, because he loved his brother so much, he
felt guilty for fantasizing about Knox’s wife, even though doing so enabled him
to stay hard and fuck the human beneath him.

Disgusted with her and himself, Zeph reared up and bit her neck.
Immediately, he blocked the bitter taste of her pure blood from his mind and
instead focused on remembering how wonderful Felicia had tasted the one time
she’d let him—the time when both of them had faced circumstances that
required her to offer herself to him or they’d die.

It didn’t matter that he hadn’t tasted her since.

It didn’t matter that he now received pure human blood from the Quorum
in exchange for his alleged loyalty to their cause.

Felicia’s essence was inside him. At least he would always have that.

But because he couldn’t have more, could never have more, he’d agreed
to help Mahone. He’d agreed to leave his home. His family. He’d agreed to it,
even knowing that Knox would be angry at Zeph endangering himself.

He could deal with Knox’s anger at Zeph acting as an undercover agent,
especially because Zeph had kept it a secret from him. What he couldn’t deal
with was betraying Knox or the possibility that Knox would hate him and disavow
him forever because Zeph was in love with Knox’s wife.

After Zeph had wrung two climaxes from Vanessa and had managed to come
himself, he ripped himself away from her and got dressed. Vanessa continued to
lounge in the bed, completely comfortable with her nudity.

She had reason to be. She was beautiful, with a lithe, strong body. It
was too bad she was pure evil.

“So as much fun as this little
siesta
has been,” Zeph said, “I’m anxious to get back to work. Have you and
the other Quorum members decided what your next move is to be?” They’d already
gone after the vampires and the felines. Zeph didn’t know if they’d be crazy
enough to go after the mages or shape-shifters, but he suspected that had to
happen eventually if the Quorum was to achieve its goal of Otherborn
separatism.

“You know I don’t discuss business in the bedroom, Zeph. Certainly not
with hired thugs.”

He was on her in a second, his fingers wrapped around her throat, his
fangs flashing in warning. “Careful, or this hired thug won’t be giving you any
more help or information, let alone more screaming orgasms, and from the way
you soak them in, you definitely need them.”

She glared at him. “Arrogant bastard. But then you’re a vampire. Enough
said.”

Zeph laughed and shook his head before releasing her neck and moving to
his feet. “Amazing that you dislike Otherborn so much given it takes one to
satisfy you when your husband clearly can’t.”