Tempt Me Eternally (19 page)

“Cool.” He didn't sound surprised.

Her knuckles squeezed the bars, losing their color. “You know what I can do?” Had he seen her that night in the forest? He'd been unconscious, and she'd thought she had been so careful.

Slowly he approached her. “I'm not a trained AIR agent, just their hired help, but I know drug addicts, and Macy was an Onadyn user. AIR hired her only to use her to find out who was dealing to her. I got to be the one to seduce her for info, not that she told me much. Which is why I planned to continue seeing her. But even though she and I had already had sex, you didn't recognize me the first time we met, and I didn't recognize your smell.”

All this time . . . she'd lived in fear, but they'd known. They'd already freaking known.

“Anyway, AIR figured out you were different, though no one knew how or why you were there. So we all observed you instead, trying to discover if you
were someone's plant.” He shrugged. “But you never saw anyone outside of work and never told anyone the false stories we fed you. And then, not too long after your arrival, someone found Macy's body. We interviewed a few witnesses and figured out that her dealer went loco and killed her, that you saw an opp and took it.”

“There was never a story in the news about her death.” Aleaha knew. She had watched and waited for the day, knowing she'd have to switch identities yet again.

“AIR made sure of that.”

Warmth drained from her, leaving only a cold shell. She'd had no idea. She'd been in danger, constantly scrutinized, and had been utterly clueless. “W-why didn't they kill me?” She wanted to release Macy's image, but didn't. Even though these agents knew what she could do, she didn't want them seeing the real her. That was for Breean. Only Breean.

“As far as I know, you're the only one of your kind. Human or alien, they still don't know. You'll be a great asset.”

An asset. That's all she was good for, which wasn't comforting. But even more upsetting? They didn't know what she was either. She'd hoped
someone
had that information. Even her parents hadn't known.

Stay hidden, Aleaha love,
her mom had said the last time Aleaha had seen her. She couldn't see the woman's face, for shadows surrounded them.
If anyone finds out what you are, they'll hurt you.

We'll come back for you,
her dad had said, taking her mother's hand.

But they never had. The two had walked off while she sobbed. They hadn't run as if they were being chased. They'd walked. They hadn't looked back.

She supposed they could have been killed, and that's why they'd failed to return for her, but deep down she suspected they were still out there, glad to be without the stigma of her origins. Whatever they were.

She would have died had it not been for Bride McKells, vampire extraordinaire, who had found her and taken over her care. Bride hadn't cared what she was. Bride had loved her.

What would Bride think of Breean? She would approve, surely.

Breean. Oh, God. Breean. Was he okay?
You gave him your blood. He's fine.

“—listening to me?” Devyn asked with a chuckle. “I was saying how it's better to keep your enemies closer than your friends, so AIR kept you close. Just in case. Besides, I wanted a go at you so I cast my vote to keep you around.”

He'd wanted her?

He must have read the question in her eyes, because he added, “I collect women. You know that. And I've never had a woman who can change personas. So if you're interested . . .”

“No,” she said quickly.

He shrugged as if it was of no consequence. “As I said, AIR planned to use you if you proved trustworthy.
The things you'll be able to do, the places you'll be able to get them, the information you'll be able to glean, will be invaluable.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why now, of all times?”

His fingers curled around hers, warm, comforting. “I like you. I can't have you. Not right now,” he added with an amused tilt of his chin, “but I do like you and I didn't want you to fear anyone's reaction to the truth, since you've clearly gone to a lot of trouble to help us escape.”

Hello, reminder. Escape, the reason she was here. The chitchat needed to end. She leaned down and studied the ID box. “I don't know how to open your cell,” she said. “I've never rewired anything.”

“I'll tell you what to do just as soon as you tell me where the Rakan is.”

“And
I'll
tell
you
just as soon as you tell me that you won't hurt him.”

“Done. I vow it.”

That easily? Why? And could she trust him? She would have to, she supposed.

“Breean is in bed, unable to move.” She squeezed her eyelids closed, trying to block that last, heartbreaking image of him. “I didn't see a lot of his men on my way down here, and I hopefully sent the remaining ones on their way. Whoever stayed, I'll convince I'm Breean and lead you guys outside.” She hoped.

“Macy?” she heard Dallas call from down the hall. Had they played musical cells?

“You're next,” she told him. “Hold tight.”

“So you escaped Stud Muffin.”

Stud Muffin? “Looks like it.”
And all I had to do was shred his neck.
“Now, how do I get through the ID box?”

Dallas laughed that razor-sharp laugh of his. “We shoulda known she'd do it,” he said to Devyn. To Aleaha, he added, “You shouldn't be down here. If you're caught, I'm sure you'll be punished.”

“I won't be caught. Now how do I open this?”

“Don't look at me,” Devyn said, splaying his arms. “I don't know how to disable them.”

“But you said—” She gritted her teeth. Bastard. He'd manipulated her for information.

There was a pause, then a sigh from Dallas. Why so reluctant? Were the situation reversed, she would be shouting orders until the bars were out of the way. Finally, he said, “Remove the lid.” He reached a dark arm through the bars and pointed at the black case.

She had to pound at it to loosen it, but ultimately it slipped free, revealing a multitude of wires. “Which do I cut?”

“Only the red one.”

“You sure?” Devyn asked. “I'd go with blue myself.”

“They're all red!” she snapped. “There's not a single blue one.”

With another sigh, Dallas rested his forehead against the bars. “I hoped they had the cheaper model. All right. Sort through them and try to find the thread that's woven through all of them.”

Thread? She began sifting through the sea of red. “You guys ignored me that first night of captivity. Why?”

“There was a guard pacing the halls,” Devyn said. “We couldn't risk him overhearing.”

Wasn't like she'd asked for detailed escape plans. “You guys know Mia better than I do.” She didn't remove her attention from the wires. All of them seemed to be connected to the rest, no common thread holding them together. “If Breean agrees to help her fight the Schön, will she let him do so?”

Dallas laughed.

Devyn snorted.

“What?” she demanded, finally glancing up. The wires had begun to blur together, anyway. Dallas, she noticed, was peering off to his left and mouthing something. Who was he talking to? She followed the direction of his gaze but didn't see anyone. Perhaps captivity had driven him insane.

He must have sensed her gaze, because he faced her and grinned. “Mia forgives no one, and the Rakans killed several of her men. Men she was charged with protecting.”

“He's not exaggerating. Even I wouldn't bed her, and believe me,” Devyn said, “I've slept with some real bad-asses.”

“Hey, man,” Dallas interrupted with a laugh. “She's like my sister. No talk of bedding her.”

Aleaha suddenly felt like she was back in the forest, the night the Rakans had come. For the most part, Dallas and Devyn hadn't taken that seriously
either, overflowing with jokes. “Well, Mia will lose even more men if she refuses this golden opportunity. And, yes, pun intended. Breean can help us defeat the Schön queen. You saw how quickly he can move. You saw how his men can step into bodies and force them to do what they want.” She turned back to the box. Ugh. Red was now her least favorite color. “But what you probably didn't notice was the scent these men produce. It . . . lures women. Fogs their minds. What if a Rakan could lure the queen into a trap? AIR could be there to pounce, and her blood would never have to be spilled.”

Devyn regarded her intently; she could feel his amber gaze probing the depths of her soul. “Was this Breean's idea? You coming here and talking to us?”

“No. It's mine,” she said, hoping Breean would agree to such a plan. Not that she wanted him to be the one doing the luring. One of his warriors could do it. That Talon guy, maybe. He was kind of cute in a boy scout slash psycho killer way.

“I don't know, Mace. That would involve trusting the Rakans, and well—”

“AIR trusts no one,” she finished for him. Exasperated, she shook her head. “One of his men killed the agents, and that was against Breean's rules. Breean punished him. You remember the guy we heard him castigating that night in the cell, right?” She paused, bit her lip. “I don't want him hurt. He's not predatory. Tell the commander to leave him alone, okay? Please. All Breean wants is a peaceful life for his men, and he
is
willing to aid AIR to find that peace.”

“Tell the commander yourself,” Dallas said.

“I . . . can't.” Right then and there, Aleaha realized she loved Breean. She hadn't just given him pieces of her heart; she'd given him the whole thing. And temporary insanity couldn't be blamed this time. She wasn't lost in a passion-haze. She did. She loved him. He was gentle and kind, attentive and hard, passionate and determined. He was wild and savage and tender and protective. He was . . . everything.

She didn't want to live Macy's life anymore. She wanted to live her own. Now, always. She would free these agents as planned, but she wouldn't leave and come back. She'd simply stay here and do whatever it took to win Breean's forgiveness. And his heart. She would follow him to the ends of the Earth, whether he wanted her or not.

They
would
be together.

“I'm not going with you,” she said. “And, damn it, I can't find a thread. Should I just start jerking wires out?”

Dallas sputtered, and her gaze lifted. He'd disappeared into his cell.

Devyn, she noticed, was frowning at her. “Little girl, that's not a decision you get to make.”

What? Jerking the wires? “What does that mean?” As she spoke, something brushed her shoulder, and a honey-scented breeze quickly followed. Her blood heated—then chilled. No. Not possible. Not freaking possible.

Heart once again slamming against her ribs, she backed away from the cell.

“What are you doing?” Devyn demanded.

“He's here.”

“The leader?” His gaze slid the length of the hallway. “I don't see anyone.”

“He's—” Her entire mind went black as Breean's essence slipped into her body, utterly consuming her.

How could she have done that to him? Breean wondered. How could she have cut his throat like that? Not a paltry wound, either, but a death wound. Delivered mere hours after he'd sated her.

Fury seethed through him. When he'd realized his body was indeed healing as swiftly as hers had the times he'd sliced into her thigh, he'd decided to spirit-walk, even though he'd left his physical being without a personal guard, something he hated to do. Anyone could stroll into his room right now and cut him—as Aleaha had done—and he would not be able to defend himself. But he had to stop her from escaping, and had been too weak to go after her physically.

So he'd allowed his spirit to rise from his body, detaching one from the other, and had stalked the home, unseen, unsensed, searching for her. Of course, he'd found her with the prisoners.

He shouldn't have been surprised that she'd chosen to injure him and save them. They were her friends, her coworkers, and he probably would have done the same. To anyone but her. He'd thought . . . what? That she'd come to like
him
? That she wanted a future with him? Damn this!

“Macy,” the agent in front of her said. Glitter. He was reaching through the bars, trying to grasp her arm and hold her in place.

In control of her movements, Breean made her step farther away. Unlike when he'd entered her for the bath, she was not aware of him or her surroundings. That time, he'd wanted her responsive. This time, he wanted only her obedience, so he'd overtaken her completely. Her actions were his. Her thoughts were his. Even her voice was his.

“Macy?” Glitter said again.

“Do not worry for her. I will not hurt her,” Breean said. A lie? He wasn't sure. Never had he been in such a murderous mood.

Without another word, he walked her up the stairs and back to his bedroom. The agents called for Macy's return, not understanding what was happening, but he paid them no heed.

She'd chosen the perfect time to escape, for many of his warriors were once again in the city. No one would have known of her—or the agents—release until morning. By then, the agents would have been safely ensconced in AIR headquarters, he was sure, and the hunt for him and his people would have begun.

What made it worse was that she'd used her ability
against him, an ability she had feared but one he had accepted. Not once had he condemned her for what she could do. Yet she'd used it against him,
becoming
him. The remaining warriors would have let her do whatever she wanted, no questions asked.

Was she at all sorry? She'd claimed to be but . . . He released his hold on her thoughts and her voice filled their head.
What are you doing? Breean, stop this! Let me explain.