Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3) (3 page)

“Hey, Becca, we need you to give Mike a little pick me up so we can get him inside without killing anybody.” Ryan’s eyes conveyed the severity of the situation, far more than his light tone.

Michael caught the way hers widened to saucers as she took in the wetness of his clothing, mentally calculating how much blood he must have lost. She would know, even if she couldn’t see his fangs, that he was growing desperate. Only his age and control kept him from leaping at her this very moment.

“Um, how much do you think you need?” she asked Michael directly.

The fear he smelled and saw her bravely attempting to hide sickened him. The woman he loved should never see him as a monster and yet, she did. In that moment, no matter what she might say, she did.

“Just a little until we can get him inside and tucked away with a few blood bags to suck on.” Ryan rushed to quell her fear. “We can get as much as we need from the med supply. It’s just gonna be a little hairy getting from here to there through all the helpers we’ve got coming.” He nodded over her shoulder at the men already rushing toward them.

“It doesn’t look like we have a whole lot of options.” Swallowing, she held out a thin wrist to him. No questions. Leaning over and scooting close, she hid him as best she could with her back to the approaching horde.

Michael hesitated, closing his eyes as he felt his vampire roar to the surface. His control was slipping. The blue veins were under his nose and he smelled the perfume of her blood, heard her pulse just beneath that golden flesh. Fangs barely brushing her skin, he inhaled deeply. God she smelled like heaven.

“Michael,” her voice barely shook, “there’s no time. Take what you need.” Her lips brushed his ear as she leaned in. “I trust you.” She sensed his continued reluctance and did what she knew would push him over the edge. Lingering, she kissed his neck and slid her tongue down to the flesh of his throat. He drew a sharp breath but still didn’t bite. With a small, fearful whimper, Becca ran her tongue over his throat and bit him first.

Pushed past his white knuckled grip on control, Michael growled and his mouth gaped. A flash of long, white teeth in the greenish light and he latched onto her wrist. Her body jerked back automatically when fang pierced flesh. Not in the height of passion, she had no distraction from the pain. If he were clear-headed he would have withdrawn immediately, but he wasn’t. Instead, he was lost to the high only fresh human blood could provide. Granted, he and many others like him survived on donated blood. It was palatable. But blood like this; fresh, hot, from a woman he loved more than his own miserable life, it drew him in worse than any junkie coming off a drought. At the first drop, he was gone. Surrounded by her smell, sight, and taste, all he knew was her.

***

Michael woke up in an office of all places, lying on a cot across from an uneventful metal desk. Without conscious thought, he began taking mental inventory of his physical state. His flesh was warm and his legs were back to fully functional. He’d fed. A lot.

Flying to his feet, Michael’s eyes searched the small room in a frenzy. What had he done? Ryan wouldn’t have let him take too much, unless he’d been too crazed to pry off. It happened with some vampires when they were starving and, Michael was relatively young, but strong. It was a perk of being Black’s bitch, he thought nastily. Ryan was strong too, surely he pulled him off before he did anything horrible
.
Please tell me I stopped in time.

The door rattled and Michael drew himself up, taking care to make his expression blank. It was a pose he’d perfected in his half century of service to the king of blank.

The big auburn haired Marine walked through the door and Michael fell upon him.

“Where’s Becca? Did I,” he couldn’t voice his worst fear, “did I hurt her?
”
Did I kill her?

“No, Mike,” Ryan recognized Michael’s tenuous grip on himself and kept perfectly still. He was extremely volatile when he was hopped up on fresh blood and the vampire in him was riled. Both factors were present at the moment. He had to tread carefully. “She’s okay. A little weak so she’s getting an IV over in the infirmary.” He nodded at a garbage Michael hadn’t noticed next to the desk. It was overflowing with empty plastic bags with tubes coming off of them. “We hooked you up with what we could get out of med supply without raising too much suspicion. We’ll have to clean up after ourselves before we leave here.” His eyes softened. “You didn’t take too much from her. She’s okay, I promise.”

Slowly Michael relaxed his grip on Ryan’s black fatigues. They all wore them, the admiral’s team. Devoid of name, rank, even country, not only were they handy for night ops, they also lent the team anonymity. It wasn’t unusual for Spec Ops teams to be loners, which is what the soldiers onsite figured these four were. Not exactly, but not far off. “Take me to her.” He straightened and ran a hand over the clean shirt tucked into the fresh black pants. An eyebrow rose in question.

Ryan’s response was limited to a noncommittal grunt. He knew anything more wouldn’t be noticed, Michael’s mind was already focused on what his senses were telling him lay outside the office door. Ears tuned in to the voices and sounds beyond the room and into the communal area outside the metal walls. Without conscious thought, he was counting heartbeats and listening for threats. It was a soldier’s habit; a vampire’s nature.

Ryan led the way, brisk and efficient; not out of place on a military base in a war zone. They went to the building with the red cross on it and Michael forced himself to maintain a human pace, needing to see with his own eyes that she still breathed. That he hadn’t caused irreparable harm to his Becca. Someone moved and there, directly ahead of him, lay a small body on a long metal framed bed. Michael felt the blood churn in his stomach at the sight of her golden skin so pale against the bleached sheets.

Maneuvering past Ryan, around the ends of two more beds, he dropped to his knees. Slipping her hand in his, he noticed how cool it was. Long brown lashes lay on too pale cheeks and the man inside him cursed the monster responsible. “Becca? Love? It’s me.”

“She’s fine, seriously Mike.” Ryan stood beside him and dropped his voice so only he could hear. “You were on her for less than a minute.”

A minute! He could nearly drain a grown man in just twice that.

“Hey.” Ryan waited, drawing Michael’s gaze from the bed to the tall man standing next to him. “Give me some credit. I was listening to her heartbeat the whole time. You never lost it, man. She was never in trouble. I swear.”

Unwilling to let himself off the hook entirely, knowing if he could have counted on his control in running the gauntlet of blood filled humans she wouldn’t be lying in that bed, Michael gave him a grunt and a sour look. Dark blue eyes returned to the prone figure, searching her face for signs of distress. That she wasn’t hooked up to any machines was a good sign. The only line running in was an IV for hydration. The tightness in his chest loosened just a little.

Her lashes fluttered and Michael could breathe again. If he’d needed to.

***

“Hey,” Becca squeezed the warm hand in hers, knowing it was her blood, in part, that made it so. Without feeding, Michael would be cool to the touch as if he’d just come from a dip in the pool.

“Hey.”

“Are you,” she asked as a nurse walked past, “back to normal?”

“Yes, back to normal.” He fought to keep his features placid for those watching, the strangers in their midst. Michael perfected keeping his guard up in public although she could see the telling small lines in his features. It must be killing him to have fed off her. As long as he didn’t see her as a lunch truck, she was fine with doing for him when his needs were desperate. Becca just wished he wouldn’t hate himself for it afterward. 

“You done with your nap yet, Sauter?” Ryan stepped closer to the bed and Becca had to crank her head to take in the hulking form.

She smiled and caught the lines in Michael’s face easing. “Whenever you’re ready, Hallbeck, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Tossing an affectionate smile her way, Ryan gave her shoulder a brief rub. “I’m going to check with a doc to see what it’ll take to get you out of here.”

“Thanks, Ryan.” It was impossible not to catch at least some of the big Marine’s enthusiasm for life. His affable nature was a welcome infusion to the arguably too severe members of the unit. 

Drifting away, he aimed for a short block of a man clad in desert camo and carrying a clipboard. Michael stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. Her gaze fell back to him and the look she saw there was equal parts pleasure and pain.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” She offered him a small smile. “I was just a little woozy getting out of the bird.” Becca raised her arm with the IV attached. “They gave me this as a precaution, that’s all. They figure it’s the heat.” She smiled.

His normally bright blue eyes were dark with displeasure. “You shouldn’t be in here at all.” 

“Would you rather we were burying a stranger?” Becca held his gaze, fingers tightening on his when he started to object. She lowered her voice to a whisper only he could hear. “We both know you had to do it. I’m fine. You’re fine. We don’t have a body on our hands. Case closed.”

They regarded each other for a long moment and just when Becca worried Michael would continue to self-flagellate all the way home, his eyes lightened a shade.

“You’re sure…?” 

Becca leveled a hard look at him until he laughed.

“We all happy over here?” Ryan was back. “Doc says you’re free to go as long as he gets another quick inspection. He’ll be here in just a sec.”

Michael’s face turned serious. “Go tell Gabs to get our ride ready. We’re out within the hour.”

“Yes, Sir,” Ryan gave a salute and finished off with a wink to Becca before turning on his heel in a sharp about face.

“Smart ass,” Becca laughed.

Michael chuckled softly.

Chapter 2

Knock, knock, knock.

“Come in,” Becca called, rising from her bed slowly, fighting another wave of dizziness. They’d arrived back at the estate hours ago and all but Michael had been spared a debriefing with the admiral. Becca used the time to catch up on her sleep. Oddly, she was still exhausted from giving Michael that little boost nearly a full day ago. It wouldn’t be all that unusual if she were a normal person. But she wasn’t. As Michael and the admiral had informed her, her clairvoyance was in fact due to her being a witch, to use the ancient term. A genetic quirk she shared with at least one brother. She didn’t know about her other brother or her parents because how did one ask, “Hey, are you a witch by chance? I am, I see things.” No, she was leaving that little bit of trivia off of her list of topics to discuss with the family at Sunday dinner.

The whole witch thing was even further complicated by the enormous amount of Michael’s blood she’d ingested when he brought her back from certain death after a fight with a fire demon. The effects lasted for so long they’d wondered if they would ever wear off. Nearly three months, that was three times longer than it should have taken. Now though, the extra oomph had gone and taken her regular strength with it, leaving her as weak as when she’d had mono in the seventh grade. Only back then she wasn’t working for a boss who had the power, and possibly the desire, to see her dead should she fail to perform to his satisfaction.

The thick wooden door creaked open and Becca took a giddy breath. Her cheeks hurt from the enormity of the smile that slapped itself across her face. The notion that she should be embarrassed to be so shamelessly gaga blew through her head and was gone with his breathtaking smile. “How did it go with Black?”