More Than Life (Arcane Crossbreeds) (12 page)

Katya felt her heart stutter, and Raife’s alarm ricocheted through her.

“You will drink, Katya. I will not lose you again.”

Her grip on consciousness started to slip, and her will to survive began to assert itself. A faint cry of denial sang through her as her tongue swept over that flickering vein in his neck. Her fangs brushed over his flesh once and then again.

“That’s it, baby, do it.”
The voice was a hum in her mind that sent ripples through her body.

She bit down, and her eyelids drooped in pleasure as the thick, hot essence of him slid over her tongue and down her throat. She couldn’t tell if it was her or him who shuddered at the contact, but her fingers clutched at the tense muscles of his chest as she fed hungrily from him.

The world faded away, the pain of her wounds becoming too distant to touch her as he pulled her from his neck. Consciousness receded as she slid down in his arms, the steady beat of his heart lulling her. She heard the comforting vibration beneath her cheek as he spoke, but she couldn’t focus enough to understand his words. He lifted her higher against him and kissed her brow as her awareness receded to a pinpoint of light and went out.

“THE COUPLE ESCAPED.”

A smile eased over Irial Carrick’s lips as he reclined in his chair. “Excellent. Back to Incog, I presume.”

“Yes, sir. We followed them into San Francisco just an hour ago. The head of Incog brought in his team for the extraction.”

“Everything is falling together perfectly.” Finding out about Katya’s connection to the Drachon was a stroke of luck. He’d been afraid of having to make yet another decision, another sacrifice that would bear too gravely on his soul, one he wasn’t entirely sure he could have made. Fortunately he hadn’t had to find out.

“What of the Rebel presence, sir?”

Irial sighed. The Rebels. While he admired their spirit and tenacity, he was getting damn tired of having to step over them at every turn.

It was wreaking havoc with
his
objectives.

“How would you like to proceed, sir?”

Carrick rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip thoughtfully. Now that Katya and her mate had returned to Incog, they would no doubt begin to unravel this tangle. Soon they would be driven to take down that damn research center. That could prove beneficial for him.

“Continue to avoid contact with the Rebels, but monitor their activities. Watch Incog as well, and report to me if they make a move on the lab.”

“Yes, sir.”

Irial Carrick disconnected the call and tapped the secure cell phone against his chin with a smile. Incog had one of the most talented scientists in existence employed there. He should know; it had taken a hell of a lot of careful maneuvering to get her there. She would recognize the importance of what had been done to Katya.
And
know what should be done with her. If not, he would give the good doctor a little reminder of where her loyalties should lie.

Things were going even better than planned.

Chapter Eight

“You look like crap, Merrick.”

Raife shot a surprised look at Brim Fallon where he leaned negligently against the wall next to the conference room door, arms crossed expectantly over his chest. Fucking great. The last thing he wanted to do right now was chat it up with an emissary of the Drakes.

“They start the debriefing yet?” He reached up to run his fingers through his still damp hair. He’d used the showers in the training room after Katya had vomited on him for the third time. At least the fever had broken. Not only was she already malnourished and injured, but she was suffering from some kind of supervirus. Just one more storm her body had to withstand.

Thank God it would be changing, growing stronger to sustain the long Drachon pregnancy ahead.

The one that she wasn’t aware of yet.

In his defense, he hadn’t exactly had an opportunity to tell her. He’d carried her, unconscious, out of that facility, and she’d stayed that way on the short flight to Incog headquarters in San Francisco. That had been forty-eight hours ago. Doc Mahoney wouldn’t release her from the specialized sick ward, and Raife wouldn’t let the good doctor run any further tests. They were temporarily at an impasse until Katya woke.

“They’re waiting for you. How’s your mate?”

Not dead, and for that he was thankful.

“Finally sleeping.” Really sleeping. No more vomiting. No more feverish ramblings about the last few months that left him feeling raw and angry.

Brim nodded thoughtfully, scratching the thick brown stubble on his chin. “That’s good, and I mean that. I will have to make a report to the Drakes about her, though.”

Raife sighed and reached up to rub at the back of his neck. The last thing he wanted was the elder Drachon involved right now, but he understood why they’d want to be. The Drakes were leaders because they had proven themselves, not because of bloodline or prophecy or any of that other bullshit, and their most pressing concern at the moment was saving their species.

He squared his shoulders and met the other Drachon’s eyes. “If there’s hope for our males, I would never keep it from them. But…I won’t have my mate endangered in any way. She’s been through enough. And I mean
that
.”

Brim nodded. “Fair enough.” He pushed off from the wall and motioned to the door. “Shall we, then?”

Raife nodded. He just wanted to get this over with and get back down to the infirmary before Katya woke up. As underhanded as it may seem, he wanted to capitalize on those first few fuzzy moments before she remembered everything. Before she went back to distrusting him.

Kyeros Forestor, owner and operator of Incog, stood as Raife walked in, his nearly black eyes studying him, his thin nostrils flaring. As always he got the impression that his boss was seeing him with all of his senses. Seeing more than anyone else could.

“Congratulations. How is she?” Raife grabbed the hand Kyeros extended with a firm grip.

“As well as can be expected.”

Kyeros nodded, moving his dark eyes to Brim. “Mr. Fallon. Please have a seat, and we can get started.”

Raife cast a cursory glance at the other agents already seated. Dr. Mahoney was sitting to the right of Forestor, poring over papers in front of her. He was almost positive Kat’s name was scribbled all over them, along with her very existence broken down into little tiny scientific pieces for the doc to push around. Rolling his shoulders, he moved past the last empty chair to brace his hands against the frame of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Bay.

“All right, people,” Forestor began, “it appears we are dealing with a research facility. My sources have no knowledge of its existence, which could mean any number of things. It could be a privately funded facility. It could belong to the human government. Or it could be maintained by the Triumvirate.”

Raife didn’t need to be psychic to feel the sharp build of hostility. Any of the possible choices sucked. With a sigh, he turned away from the window and sat. The creak echoed in the room as all eyes turned to him. “I think we can rule out the human government. I didn’t see any humans during my brief vacation there. A strong Elemental seemed to be calling the shots, and an army of dumb-ass Guardians, most likely rogues.”

“Rogues?” Forestor cocked an eyebrow. For all intents and purposes, Forestor was considered a rogue Guardian. Raife knew the man was far from dumb. He hadn’t heard much beyond the rumor and speculation that littered the halls and training room, but he did know that Forestor had been cast out of his clan long before Raife came along.

Guardians, because of their violent natures, had to have the controlling influence of a clan to maintain their standing with the Alliance. No clan meant they were outside the Alliance and thus a rogue. While the Arcane Alliance, headed by the Matriarch, the most powerful and respected Elemental, provided little protection against the three bitches that made up the Triumvirate, it was better than being at their mercy. Especially since they had none.

“No offense, Forestor, but most rogues do have a tendency to kill indiscriminately.”

Gideon nodded slowly, his leaner frame barely moving in the leather chair. “The Guardians I encountered displayed no training or self-control. Once incited, they became mindless. Sloppy.”

“As far as I’m concerned, that increases the suspicion of human involvement,” Tag added. He’d been with Incog the longest and was well-known for his dislike of human society. The man rarely left Incog these days. “Rogues are easy to manipulate; no offense, Forestor.”

One dark brow on Forestor’s otherwise impassive face lifted just the slightest.

“And Elementals can be easily influenced with the promise of money and power,” Kel Sheridan added, swiveling her chair back and forth with a booted foot on the edge of the table. “Sorry, Merrick, but the human government speaks the language of the Elementals. It’s all about money and power.”

Raife shook his head. He couldn’t argue with that, but he just didn’t think that was the case here. “This guy seemed really hung up on me mating. He knew exactly who I was, despite my cover. He knew of my history with Kat. And he knew a hell of a lot about Drachon culture.”

Brim shifted at that. Much of Drachon culture was shrouded in mystery. Purposely. They were a private species. Nothing was written. It was all passed down in oral tradition. Even humans thought they were fire-breathing reptiles with scales. Humans had come pretty damn close to nailing the other species of the Arcane in their folklore, but they were still off the mark on his own.

Yet this Elemental had been unerringly correct.

“He must have had a good source.” Brim snarled, sitting forward to brace his elbows on the gleaming mahogany tabletop. “Do you think it was one of our own?”

Raife shrugged. “I don’t see who else could have given him that depth of information.” Just the thought of that alone riled him. They were dying fast enough without their own kind giving them an extra push to extinction.

“It explains a lot.” Brim rubbed his fingers over his chin. “Who else besides a Drachon would be interested in the mating of other Drachon? If you find a way for one to mate, it opens up the field for all the others. Survival is as good of a motivating factor as money and power.”

Leaning back in his chair, Raife threaded his fingers over his chest and shook his head. It didn’t fit. They’d had Katya before they had him. The reason they’d taken him seemed to be tied up with her. “I just think we’re missing something here. Tag, what have you managed to scrape off that computer junk Gideon scored for you?”

Tag snorted. “I told you before, bro. I need to meet the asshole who created that system. The memory was wiped clean. If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was nothing ever there. I’ve got another program I’m going to use to try to uncover something. If there is anything.”

Forestor’s expression was cautionary as his gaze fell on Raife. “The preliminary analysis Dr. Mahoney has on Ms. Schaffer has given me every reason to believe they were performing genetic experimentation.”

The room grew silent, and Raife could feel the hostility jump and shift in Dr. Mahoney’s direction. The redheaded scientist seemed to chafe on all of their nerves with her sterile, clinical disposition. Forestor had brought her in several years ago to handle the unique needs of crossbreeds, and all Raife knew of her past was that the Triumvirate had a serious hard-on for her. She rarely left the Incog building. And never without stringent protective measures.

He stared at the doc, and her pale eyes flicked to him. As usual, they gave nothing away; he could feel her excitement at solving the puzzle of Katya’s genetics. It had been a constant source of irritation these past two days. His knuckles went white as he clinched them tighter. Under the fresh shirt, he could feel the burning of his mating marks and the urge to go to Kat stirred hard and painful.

Just a bit longer. He could last just a bit longer. He wanted to be here for this part of the debriefing. He needed to.

Forestor paused long enough to give them all that intense stare of his that said he meant business. “I think we all know that Ms. Schaffer is Agent Merrick’s mate. I realize that will make this a sensitive area, but I expect you to approach it with as much objectivity as any other case.” He flipped open a file folder that had been on the tabletop in front of him. “A background check reveals nothing alarming. She is the niece of Ambassador Canton Schaffer of the Bay House here in San Francisco, where she was raised in the usual Sanguen fashion after the deaths of her parents.”

Raife shifted in his seat. Death was too mild a word to use to describe what happened to her parents. He was just grateful she remembered none of it. He may not like her righteous bastard of an uncle, but at least Canton Schaffer kept her sheltered and pampered. She’d been unspoiled by the real world. The loss of that made Raife want to roar.

“She attended Caltech, where she graduated with honors.”

She’d been granted leave to attend Caltech by the elders—something not allowed of females—as a concession to her incredible intellect and aptitude in science. Raife knew at least one of the Bay House elders saw her as a sort of grandchild, which gave her more leniency than most other Sanguen females. Her uncle had benefitted greatly from her education, since he proctored the sales of her specialized computer programs. But she’d been so proud of herself. Hell, he’d been proud of her.

“About eight months ago, her uncle arranged a marriage into the Anglesey House in Wales. It was approved by the elders of the Bay House. I’ve requested verification of the agreement from my contact in Wales. I have yet to hear back.”

Raife tensed as the guilt ate at him. He should have done that months ago. He should have made sure. Maybe then he could have spared her the hell she’d gone through. Maybe he would have found her sooner.

“What we do know is that at some point she was sent to this research facility in Death Valley. According to Dr. Mahoney’s initial workup, there are signs of genetic alterations, which may include manifestations of all species.”