The Storm That Is Sterling (12 page)

His lips curled. “If you need it so badly,” he challenged, “go down on your knees and ask nicely.”

“There isn’t time,” she purred. “The girls will begin arriving any minute.”

Unfortunately, she was right. “Pity,” he said, reaching into his pocket and retrieving the tiny silver star that appeared harmless. It was, in fact, the method of dispensing Eclipse. “I would have liked you on your knees.” He motioned to her desk where a rack of ICE vials sat. “Take your dose. You can thank me later.”

She didn’t hesitate, grabbing a glass tube. She held it out to him. “Join me?”

When hell froze over. “It’s all yours, my little ICE bitch.”

She smiled. Pleased. “I
am
a bitch, aren’t I?”

“Indeed,” he said. A dominant, controlling bitch, who kept the rest of the bitches in line. He took her hand again, finger sliding over the tattoo on her palm. “But a lovely bitch deserves her reward.” He urged her to drink, knowing her addiction gave him the same control over her that Adam wished to have over humanity. The control he would soon have over his Eclipsers. “Do it.”

She popped the top of the vial and brought it to her lips. At the same time, Iceman dissolved the silver star over the mark on her hand, the etched skin allowing the unique formulation of ecstasy mixed with a few secret ingredients, that he and he alone controlled, to be absorbed into the bloodstream almost instantly. The boost, when taken in conjunction with ICE, delivered enhanced senses—made everything taste better, smell better, feel better.

Her lashes fluttered, the vial all but falling from her hand. He kissed her wrist, and she shivered, pleasure rolling across her face. Most users would have orgasmed right then and there. But not Sabrina. She was fiery and hot, demanding more.

“ICE Eclipse,” she murmured. “God, I love this stuff.” He rewarded her agreement, his lips moving up her arm until she shivered and fixed him in a bright green stare. Desire and lust poured from her gaze. “I really love it.”

He reached up and unzipped her vest, intending to enjoy her ICE-induced arousal. Time for her to get on her knees. He urged her downward, and she smiled, sensually sliding down his body until the buzzer went off on the door.

She pursed her lips again. “The girls are arriving,” she said. “Bringing you all that money you’re making. They’ll wait until we’re done. They like their ‘Eclipse’ as much as I do.” She smiled. “Or we could make a party of it. Have them join the fun.”

He yanked her up, kissed her hard, and then set her away from him. She was a toy, nothing more. “Business before pleasure. Need I remind you we’ve expanded our distribution tonight? Monitor the results as I pay you to do.”

Only two weeks before, they’d had a dealer go MIA, and they’d been forced to regroup, rethink.

Sabrina stiffened, sliding into the comfortable shell of badass bitch. “The results…” she said, zipping those perky nipples back inside her leather vest and heading toward her left, “will be as expected. My girls will deliver.”

“Go see to it they do,” he ordered tightly, giving her his back, dismissing her to the duty he expected, staring out at the warehouse that he expected her to clear out twice a week, not twice a month.

She had a dozen new women on staff on his dime, all trained to approach prescreened targets, frequenters of certain bars, clubs, casinos, and restaurants to convert them to users.

Abruptly, an alarm sounded in the office, a warning the guards delivered the minute a wind-walker appeared on the property. Shit. Tad. But he wasn’t due for his ICE payment for days.

Iceman reached for the remote to the security monitor to flip the channel, when Tad appeared in the office, Sabrina in front of him, held close to his body. She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t fight to get away. She’d learned the hard way when a previous confrontation had gotten her backhanded and flung across the room.

“We need to talk,” Tad blistered out.

Such brilliance. Like that wasn’t obvious. Clamping down on his immense irritation, Iceman crossed his arms in front of his chest. “So talk.”

“Rebecca Burns,” he said, offering nothing more. Ah yes. The woman whose picture he’d been shown for identification and told to capture.

And for reasons he’d yet to determine, the woman scared the crap out of Tad and his Zodius cronies. Interesting. What could one little woman do to a Zodius Nation? Whatever she had on them, he wanted it for himself.

He arched a brow. “What of her?”

Tad’s hand stroked Sabrina’s hair as if she were a pet. “You were to keep her away from ICE. You were to bring her to me. Tonight, she not only found her way to an ICE dealer, she found her way into the path of a Renegade.”

“That’s impossible,” Iceman said. “None of my dealers gave that woman ICE. They don’t randomly deal. Not anymore.”

“Ah,” Tad said. “But they did.” He tossed a DVD at Iceman. It hit the floor with a thud. “That came from your club where your men lured her to a back warehouse.”

“We don’t have male dealers,” Sabrina said. “That’s ridiculous.”

Tad yanked her hair back, and she bit her lip, whimpering. “Then a user,” Tad said, staring down at her a moment before letting her hair go. He eyed Iceman. “One of your customers, which means you have no control, and that is unacceptable. If you can’t do your job, I’ll get someone who can.”

“Any customer who sells a dose of ICE does not get a replacement,” Iceman said. “That means withdrawal. I find it hard to believe that any man would be that foolish over a piece of ass.” He wasn’t convinced withdrawal was killing the Clanners, but he was making it work in his favor anyway. He was convincing users that buying the Eclipse boost made dosing safer.

Fucking beautiful. Worked like a charm. And Adam got none of his Eclipse profits.

“You watch the DVD,” Tad said, running his hand over Sabrina’s neck. “Or maybe you’d rather watch me bend your woman over the desk. She is your woman, isn’t she? She reminds me of Adam’s Lifebond, Ava—red hair, stubborn.”

“I’m sure Adam would appreciate knowing you have a hard-on for his Ava,” Iceman said, hoping to anger him enough to get him to let go of Sabrina. He didn’t give a damn if Tad screwed her, but he knew what sex with Tad meant—she could be tracked. That was a problem. “You should have fucked this Rebecca chick and marked her for your Trackers, and then you wouldn’t have me trying to find her while also running the ICE distribution process.” He bent down and snatched up the DVD. He wanted to know who the hell was pawning off ICE—if Tad had managed to get the facts right.

By the time he straightened, the DVD in hand, it was clear there was no saving Sabrina. Tad had her bent over the desk, ripping away her vest. He’d have to replace her. Irritating. He didn’t have time for such delays.

He turned his back to Tad and Sabrina, about to pop the DVD into the computer on the desk, when he was suddenly lifted off his feet and slammed against the floor, the air shoved from his lungs. Tad’s foot landed in his ribs over and over again, and then slammed into his chest.

“You lie there and watch me enjoy your woman,” he said. “Then we will discuss how you will repay me for your failure.”

Blood dripped from the corner of Iceman’s mouth, his physical vulnerability the price he paid for being unwilling to take ICE. But he had a team working on creating his own version of the drug, just as he was growing his Eclipsers. Tad could have Sabrina. He could relish his moment. It would only make the day Iceman killed him all the sweeter. This was his game, and everyone would know when he made his final move.

Sterling had no idea why the woman in his arms felt so important to him, but as he carried Becca into the piece-of-crap motel room with powder blue walls and nary a piece of furniture, there was no denying what he felt. Protective. Almost possessive. Like she was his. Like she’d always been in some way. With a few awkward maneuvers, he managed to lock the door before carrying Becca to the lumpy, full-sized bed with an ugly floral bedspread. He was ready to figure out what was causing everyone around her to pass out so he could take her to Neonopolis where she could be truly safe.

Flinging back the blankets, Sterling laid Becca on the mattress, tossing aside her shoes, and then covering her. Black hair fluttered over her pale, heart-shaped face, and he reached down and stroked it gently away from her brow. He didn’t even know he had “gentle” in him, not anymore, and not since, well, those days back in the library with her. And here she was now, bringing out the tenderness in him when he would have sworn it wasn’t possible. He checked her pulse; it was steady, and so was her breathing. Even her skin tone had color now. The ICE seemed to be finally working.

A series of coded knocks sounded on the door. Sterling stalked across the room, rubbing his jaw, while mentally scrubbing the emotion from his face. Caleb, Michael, and Damion, all dressed in street clothes, awaited him on the other side.

“You drove my fucking car,” Michael growled. “If we didn’t need you right now, I’d freaking kill you.”

Sterling ignored him, too angry at Damion’s presence. He eyed Caleb and motioned to Damion. “Why is he here?”

“In case you forgot,” Damion said dryly. “I’m the best Tracker we have. Becca is clear. No psychic residue.”

Sterling cut an urgent look in Michael’s direction for confirmation. Michael might have limited tracking abilities, but he trusted him. He didn’t trust Damion.

“No residue,” Michael confirmed. “But before you get all excited about what that means—check her neck for the Lifebond mark. A male Lifebond can shield his female from Trackers.”

Sterling’s vision went momentarily red with Michael’s words, his blood—cold. Becca—another man’s Lifebond? Why did that make him want to punch the wall? Caleb held up a bag, jolting Sterling out of his red haze of anger. “Kelly wants her to take the ICE in the bag that she’s already analyzed in case there’s some variation in the formula causing the fatalities. She included supplies to draw blood and some tranquilizers.”

“Tranquilizers?”

“If Becca’s asleep, she can’t put other people to sleep. At least, that’s the theory. Kelly wants to analyze her blood and make sure there are no red flags that could be dangerous to others before we move her. In the meantime, I’m having the west end of Neonopolis cleared, so you can take her there once we clear her to travel.”

Sterling wasn’t tranquilizing her if he didn’t have to, but he needed the ICE. He took the bag. “I’ll control her.”

“Kelly wants that blood ASAP,” Caleb added.

Sterling nodded and dug the vials of ICE from his pocket, hesitating a millisecond as his eyes collided with Damion’s. He didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him, not with the ICE samples Becca needed to survive.

Caleb and Damion turned to depart, but Michael stepped forward, as if he intended to enter the room.

Sterling blocked him. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“She has twenty-four hours of unaccounted for time with an addiction to a drug only Adam can provide. We need to interrogate the woman and ensure she’s not a spy, and you’re too personally involved to do it.”

“Says who?” Sterling demanded.

“Says me,” Michael replied.

“Figures,” Sterling said dryly. Michael was known for being as cold-hearted as they came, the Dark Knight behind Caleb’s Superman persona. “Try using some of that decision-making and paranoia to get Damion the hell away from Caleb before it’s too late. Becca isn’t a spy.”

Michael ignored the comment and focused on getting into the room. “I’m coming in.”

He really wanted to punch the SOB. “When you pass out, I’ll be sure and give you a blankie and teddy bear.”

“I’m not like the other GTECHs any more than you are,” Michael said, but he didn’t advance, as if Sterling’s words had given him pause.

Sterling snorted. “Yeah well, I’m thinking about that. Becca was around a nightclub filled with humans, and they didn’t pass out. And then there’s me, who doesn’t pack as much GTECH juice as the rest of you. I didn’t pass out. And I hate to tell you this, Michael, but you aren’t human. Not even close.” Only recently he’d discovered he had gone off and grown an extra gene no one else possessed.

Michael glared a moment and then apparently dispelled any concern. “She’s weakened by her withdrawal.” He stepped forward. “I’ll take my chances.”

Sterling didn’t give a damn how powerful Michael was. He stepped forward, toe-to-toe with him. “I swear to the good Lord above, if you set foot in this room, I will find a cliff and drive Carrie over the side.”

“I’ll buy another,” Michael said, his stone-cold expression a permanent feature.

“That’s the worst load of crap you’ve fed me since you said you would never get the healing illness and then you did,” Sterling ground out between clenched teeth. “You can’t buy another Carrie, and we both know it. She’s got sentimental value.” He lowered his voice and added before he could stop himself, “If this were Cassandra, would you let
you
in this room?”

“I’d kill to protect Cassandra,” Michael said, narrowing his eyes on Sterling. “Are you saying this woman is your Lifebond? Because that changes everything in my eyes if she is.”

What? He opened his mouth to speak and shut it. For a rare instant, he was speechless, the idea that Becca and he were Lifebonds resonating far deeper than he realized. “All I’m going to tell you at this point is to back off, Michael. I’ve got this situation under control.”