Dark Passion Rising (3 page)

“It would be better to just let her bleed out,” Tegan growled,
keeping an eye on his work. “If she lives she will change, and that change will
dictate the rest of her life.  Which will be shit.”

     “I will decide what to do with her, your job is to patch her
up and keep her alive,” Marcus snapped, frustration reaching a boiling point.  They
all were at the razor’s edge.  One small push and there would be no coming back
from it.

 Tegan was a blur of motion.  One moment he was tending the cop’s
wounds, the next he was up close and personal.  His words bit out between
clenched teeth.

“The decision on this is for Temple Fox, not you.”

“Back down before I take you down,” Marcus warned, his voice cold
and even.

 “Just try it,” Tegan spat, his body tight ready to spring as he
moved in even closer.

Marcus made no movement as he regarded the other Enforcer,
knowing any move would just heighten Tegan’s aggression.  One drawback to
having a Were-panther on your team was they tended to be hot headed.  With
Tegan the panther was always just below the surface, ready to take a swipe.

The shrill ring of Marcus’s cell phone cut through the air. 
Without a word, Tegan turned his attention back to the unconscious woman.

“Talk, it’s your dime,” Markus barked into the phone.  He
listened, his jaw tight.  “Fuck!  How the hell did he get to it?” he exploded,
pacing in agitation.  “Fine.  Get back here to transport the cop.”  Marcus put
the cell phone back into his pocket and gave Tegan an irritated look.  “Oren is
dead.”

 “How the hell did he manage that?”  Tegan asked. 

“Silver nitrate.  Must have found a way to slip it into his mouth
when we weren’t looking.  By the time Zeke got him to the holding cell, he was
dead.”

 “So we still have nothing to go on.  Shit, we can’t continue
like this.  Has there been any word from the Tribunal?  Any leads?”

 “They have nothing but conjecture.  The only thing they will say
is what we are experiencing is not just isolated to our location.  It’s
spreading out to every populated city around the world,” Marcus stated flatly.

 “Let me guess.  Since we were the first city hit, they expect us
to figure it all out for them.”  Bitterness dripped from Tegan’s words like
acid.

  “That’s why I want the cop.  If Oren was infected, it stands to
reason that she will be too.”

 “You still need to let Fox know.  We can’t afford to piss off
the Lycan’s leader,” Tegan pointed out.

The only sign of irritation Marcus showed was the sudden twitch
of his jaw.  As much as he would personally enjoy pissing Temple Fox off, he
knew Tegan was right.

“Fine.  You tell him that Oren is dead and we’re keeping the cop
for observation.  She is under Tribunal jurisdiction and protection until such
time as I decide otherwise.”

That should at least keep Fox appeased and buy the Enforcers some
time, something of which Marcus felt they had precious little.

Chapter Three

Sharp, stabbing pain shot through every part of Tambra.  It choked
her with its intensity as it pulsed through her body with the beat of her heart.
 Her stomach churned with nausea.  Cool, soothing hands held her up as she
retched. 

In the cloudy darkness of her mind she saw disjointed images of
herself running though an endless dark corridor, the rank smell of death and
decay clogging her nose and mouth as she ran.  The scene changed, and she was
on a moonlit beach, watching the waves break.  The waves rushed toward shore,
then turned to blood, boiling up to engulf her.  She opened her mouth to scream
and choked on water, sputtering as she felt those cool hands once again
soothing her.  A deep, lightly accented voice spoke to her and even though she
couldn’t understand his words they gave her comfort.  The voice was somehow
familiar to her, though she couldn’t place where she knew it from, nor did she
want to stir from the dark place where that voice spoke to her.  She didn’t
want to leave the darkness, where there was no pain and she could just float
along contentedly.   

She felt something wet stroking lightly up her arms, neck, and
face, chilling her fevered skin.  Once again the pain came crashing through her
with the force of a hurricane.  Searing, white-hot agony thrummed through her
body and when the darkness claimed her she welcomed it gratefully.

****

Marcus leaned wearily back in his chair and scraped his hand
along the stubble of his jaw.  Gods, he couldn’t remember ever being this
tired.  Zeke had quickly teleported them to the small medical room built deep
below the unassuming home Marcus had built years ago for the Enforcer’s
headquarters.

It had taken Tegan hours to repair the damage Oren’s claws and
fangs had inflicted on the female.  He had been unable to replace the blood she
had lost, so it had been touch and go for a while.  Once stabilized, Marcus had
her put in the guest room adjoining his so he and Tegan could monitor her
recuperation.  The alteration from human to Lycan was accelerating rapidly. 
Whether she could survive the change when so many others had perished was still
to be seen.

 For three days Marcus and Tegan worked on saving her.  Three
days where Marcus refused to leave her side.  When her fever raged out of
control he cooled her down with ice, he held her head as she threw up, and he
saw to her every need.  He slept fitfully beside her bed on the floor during
the day, afraid to sleep too deeply in case she needed him.  His entire world
had narrowed to this one small female, lying pale and still, on the bed before
him.  He had gone through her blood soaked clothes and found her identification
and address, committing it to memory.  Her name, Tambra Ellis, fit her.  She
was beautiful as she laid there with her thick golden hair fanned over the
pillows in deep waves, and her long lashes forming shadowy crescents against
her cheeks.  She looked vulnerable, but Marcus knew the strength she had.  This
was a fighter who refused to give up.  She was bound by duty to protect and
serve, just as he was.  He figured that was what compelled him to stand vigil
over her.

A hoarse groan broke the heavy silence as she stirred.  He leaned
closer in his chair, ignoring the urge to brush his fingertips against the soft
skin of her cheek. 

Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open, blurrily focusing in on him. 
He watched the play of emotions on her face with intense fascination as
confusion, recognition, and finally horror chased one another over her pale
face.  He placed a restraining hand on her shoulder as she struggled to sit up.

 “Easy now, you’ve been pretty sick.”  

His bare hand on her naked shoulder make her gasp.

“Who undressed me?” Tambra croaked out.

 “That would be me.  Your clothes were beyond repair.  I fear they
had to be disposed of. Now that you are feeling better I will see what we can
clothe you in.  Would you care for some water?”

She gave a small nod, warily took the proffered glass, and
pressed it to her lips.

“Go easy on that, you haven’t been able to hold anything down for
a few days,” he cautioned.

“You’re the man from the alley aren’t you?” Tambra asked, softly
studying him after she had taken a cautious sip of water.  “You saved me from
that…thing.  Thank you.”

 “You are welcome.” 

He watched as she took in her surroundings.  The massive bed with
an ornate wooden headboard carved with vines and flowers. A beautiful blue and
purple glass paned Tiffany lamp sitting atop a large end table.  The heavy
window curtains of dark blue damask which were shut tight, giving her no idea
if it was day or night.  The tall armoire, carved with more vines and flowers,
near the door.  Neither spoke a word until the glass was empty.  Only when she
held it out to him did she break the silence.

“You want to tell me where the hell I am and where my gun is?”

 “You’re in my home.  I’m Marcus Valerian.  I brought you here
after the attack.  Your weapon is secured in my safe for now.”

He watched her closely as her memories of the battle with the Lycan
rose to the surface.

 “
Cody!
” she cried, swinging her legs over the side of the
bed, but Marcus grabbed her arm, stopping her from rising.

     “Where are you going?” he demanded.  She gave a pointed look
at Marcus’s hand on her upper arm.

“Let go or you’ll bring back a bloody stump.  I need my gun.”

 He chuckled but released her arm.  “You can’t leave here, not
yet.”

 “Are you aware you are committing a crime by holding an officer
of the peace against her will?”

 “I am well versed in your law.”

Tambra clenched her jaw at his flippant attitude.  “Then you are
also aware I can arrest you right now for kidnapping and interfering with an
ongoing investigation.”

“Tell me, how would you explain what happened to you to your
superiors without landing yourself in a Psych ward?”

Her chin rose, a look of challenge in her eyes.  “So you’ll keep
me prisoner here?”

     “Not unless you insist on leaving.  You were a Lycan’s chew
toy and survived.”

 “Spit out what you have to say because I don’t have the patience
to play this out,” Tambra snapped.

     Marcus let out a pained sigh, rising from his chair.  Tambra’s
eyes widened as she craned her neck to look up at him. 

“What do you know about werewolf folklore?”

“Like Lon Chaney’s
Wolf Man
?”

“No.  I’m speaking of the legends.  Tales told around the
campfire.”

 “I’ve never camped and I’m not much of a reader.  If there isn’t
a movie about it, then I don’t know it.  I’m a twenty-first century kind of
girl.  Look, I’m sure this will be very interesting and all but I’m kind of strapped
for time.  I have a boss to answer to and a partner to find.  So, if you could
just find me something to wear-”

“You can’t leave unless you want the innocent blood on your
hands.”

 “Just say what you have to say, time’s a wasting.”

“You can’t leave until after your first shift.  Maybe even your
third or fourth.  I don’t know and we don’t know how well you will take it.”

Tambra gave him an incredulous look.  “Are you telling me I am
turning into a…a
dog
?” She jumped up, pulling the comforter around her,
and headed for the door.  “Look buddy, I don’t know what your damage is, but I
want no part of it, okay?  I’ll just call a cab and be on my way.”

Marcus moved to the door in a burst of speed, and stopped with
his arms folded across his chest, lips compressed into a thin line as he glared
at her.  He drew his brows low in a scowl.

“W…what the hell
are
you?” she stammered, unable to mask
her unease.

“I am not here to harm you.  I have been the one tending to you
as your body adjusted.” “You haven’t answered my question,” she pushed.

 “That’s because it’s not relevant to the situation.”

 “Like hell, asshole.  If it affects me then it is my business.”

Marcus liked her toughness, finding it remarkably refreshing.  Her
strength was impressive, not many could make it through the beginning stages of
the change when turning from human to Were, yet she had fought through it.  She
had overcome it all, despite how badly she had been injured. 

He used his most reasonable tone to calm her, knowing that the
next few minutes was crucial to keeping her receptive to what he had to say.  He
took a deep breath and let it out slowly, making his tone as calm as he could
manage.  “At this time the only thing we need to focus on is your change.  You
are not out of the woods as of yet.  There are too many things that could go
wrong.”

 Her eyes widened in horror as she took a shaky step backward.

“Oh, God.  This isn’t happening.  It can’t be real.  Werewolves
don’t exist.”

 “Believe me, they do exist.  Denying what you have seen will be
foolish and dangerous, for you and everyone you’re around.”

 “No.  I don’t believe this.  I
won’t
believe it.  There
has to be some logical explanation for what I saw.”  The sharp edge of hysteria
rose in her voice.  “I will not turn into a dog.   I don’t even
like
dogs.”

That made him smile despite the seriousness of the situation. 
She was absolutely adorable and he was in deep shit because of it.  Yet, he
couldn’t seem to make himself care. “Wolf, not dog.  You were bitten by a
Lycan, not Lassie.”

 “Ha, ha, laugh it up big guy.  You don’t have to worry about
fleas.”

Laughter rumbled out of him, surprising him as much as it seemed
to anger her.  Tambra stood in front of him, her golden hair tumbling wildly
down her back, clutching the comforter tightly to her breasts.  Her blue eyes
glittered with anger and Marcus fought the urge to pull her into his arms and
stroke her soft, creamy skin.  He clenched his hands into fists and kept still. 
She was still too pale, evidence of the weakness he knew was plaguing her but,
damn, she was magnificent.  A true warrior, ready to fight regardless of the
fact she couldn’t win. 

His blood headed south as he remembered stripping her out of her
torn and bloody uniform, seeing her full breasts, tipped with pink nipples that
begged him to take them into his mouth.  Her tiny waist smoothing into shapely
hips and a firm and heart shaped ass.  He wondered how it would feel in his
hands.  Her legs were long and lean, he wanted them wrapped around him while he
filled her, wanted her screaming his name with her release.  She was
heartbreakingly beautiful and though he
knew
it was wrong, he was sorely
tempted to risk it just to feel her lips against his, her taste in his mouth.

          That was
not
going to happen, he reminded
himself, burying his attraction in the deep recesses of his being, where it
could be locked down tight.