Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (31 page)

Read Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 Online

Authors: Gayle Parness

Tags: #vampires, #demon, #paranormal romance, #magic, #werewolves, #theta, #paranormal series, #nyc adventure, #werewolves demons and vampires, #demon villian

BOOK: Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1
9.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

”You took energy
from
the source
during sex? And lived to tell the tale?”

“Obviously.”

“We’re not trained to handle that
energy. You’re going to kill us both.”

“The Director’s going to kill us in
front of millions of viewers.” She started to pace. “Imagine the
sponsors he could get, the ticket prices he could charge. Executing
the top theta troupe in the US will make him billions of credits,
and at the same time he’ll be getting rid of a thorn in his side,
showing the world what a total badass he is.”

“You know he wasn’t thinking about
killing us before you showed up,” Gene smiled ruefully.

The truth was hard to hear. “And you’d
all be going on for the rest of your lovely lives as slaves of a
sadist.”

“What does Mack think
about you tapping into
the source
to reboot us tonight?”

“He doesn’t know. He doesn’t even know
for sure I did it when we made love.”

“Not a great way to start a
relationship, sugar. He’d tell you it was too
dangerous.”

“Probably.” Gene grunted at Ingrid,
scowling at her response. “Okay, yes. He would’ve handcuffed me to
the bed.”

That brought a smile. “I’m not saying
yes, but tell me, oh reckless one, what are the advantages to
rebooting with only the one loop?”

“I told you already. We can talk mind
to mind, even from a distance.”

“What, from the next room or
something?” He didn’t look enthused.

“Mack’s locked his shields down tight
for tonight, but if he was open to me, I could speak to him
anywhere in the city.

“What?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure. We tried it
from his house to here.”

Three heartbeats later, he responded
the way she expected he would. “You’re shitting me.”

“It’s the truth.” She couldn’t repress
her ear-to-ear grin. “Think of what this skill will do for us
during our escape.”

“Anything else I should
know?”

“It burns. A lot. I thought I was
dying.”

“This keeps getting
better.”

“But another advantage is that your
senses are boosted.”

“In what way?”

Ingrid closed her eyes. “Diane is
arguing with Dave about his snoring.”

“You can’t possibly hear her from
here.”

“Dave told her she snores loud enough
to shake the foundations of the house.” Gene and Ingrid heard the
door slam, then Diane’s voice screaming at Dave that he’d better
learn how to be a gentleman if he ever wanted back in her
bed.

Gene glared at Ingrid.
“You don’t have to look so smug. What if I don’t
want
to hear what
they’re saying? You might’ve convinced me
not
to try the single
loop.”

“Ha. Mr. I-Want-More-Information is
going to turn his back on the ability to spy on his enemies from a
distance? C’mon.”

“But listening to Diane and Dave all
day…” Gene had a pained expression.

“Relax. You can block everything you
don’t want to hear.”

He finished his sandwich and wiped his
hands on a napkin. “You present a good case, Watson, only you
forget one point.”

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“It might not work between actors.
Mack and you are opposites in so many ways. Yin-yang. Axis-psycore.
You balance each other.”

“I disagree. I use axis and psycore.
So do you. Mack uses his psycore every time he reboots himself.
We’ve been trained to strengthen one over the other, but that
doesn’t mean we don’t use both in combination. With training, we
might be able to strengthen our weaker attributes.” He still looked
wary. “Gene, we need you to be at our level for this to work. The
Hudson River Troupe may not survive for much longer.”

“Are you going to bat your eyes now?”
Gene arched an eyebrow.

“If it works.”

“How can I resist the sweet plea of a
beautiful woman?” He opened his arms in acceptance.

“You’re going to hate me in a few
minutes, but this will give all of us a better chance to survive.
Now take off your shirt.”

“If you insist, Miss Ingrid.” He
winked, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

Still in her sleeveless summer dress,
Ingrid crawled into bed. Gene joined her a minute later. “So far I
give this new experiment five stars,” he teased.

“Hold on to your hat,
cowboy.”

He was nibbling on her shoulder. “Yes,
ma’am.”

“Gene.” She pushed on his
chest.

“Okay, okay. I’ll behave, although
you’re taking away my fun.”

She covered his hand with hers,
twisting so they were spooning, her back to his front, his hand
held against her belly. “I’m hoping a little skin to skin will
center us. Hold me tight. I’m lowering my shields. You do the
same.”

Done.”

“Connect your axis to your
psycore.”

“Done.” He was panting a little
now.

She squeezed his hand. “When I say go,
push your psycore toward me. I’ll send axis to you at the same
time. We’ve already created the pathways, so it might not be quite
as intense as it was with Mack and me. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Go.”

“Oh, god.” Gene ground his hips
against her body as she pushed their combined energy into a
continuous loop, elegant and earth shattering at the same time. As
she’d imagined, the pain was not as acute as it had been the first
time, but Gene was clutching her shoulder, breathing hard. She
twisted and faced him, hoping her gaze would help to ground
him.

He seemed to calm slightly, so she
reached down, into the earth, into the center of all life and found
that familiar presence she’d searched for. A sliver of power was
offered, along with a warning, as if the presence knew what she and
Gene could handle. She absorbed the magic, sharp and vital, and
shared it with Gene.

His eyes widened with the
surge, shocked by the intensity of the physical changes taking
place in his mind and body. When Ingrid felt him arch away, perhaps
feeling the same fear that she’d experienced, she dug her nails
into his shoulders to force his attention back to ground zero,
hissing, "
No. Stay with me.”
Ingrid sent another wash of magic from
the source
.
“This is like Mack’s calming energy. He may not
even realize he gets it from there.”

Gene had relaxed beneath
her hands.
“What is it?”

“The source. It’s
benevolent.”

"Un - fuckin'-
real."

"Almost
there
," she sent back, hoping the dramatic
change would give him the strength to keep going. Ingrid watched
his face as the reboot took hold, actually seeing the moment his
eyes changed color, turning the same iridescent blues and greens as
hers. Breathing hard and shallow, their bodies slick with
perspiration, she inhaled a lungful of his citrusy scent, comforted
by his closeness and the quick pounding of his heart.

Gene stared at her with droopy eyes,
while Ingrid managed to find the strength to grin, even though he’d
come to rest practically on top of her. She shoved him to the side,
a soft groan his only response, probably a victim of the same
killer headache she’d experienced. With a twist of her body, Ingrid
opened the drawer in the bedside table, extracting an extra pair of
sunglasses, holding them ready for when he opened his eyes
fully.

“Tell me how you feel. In
your head. Just think it. And don't open your eyes or get up yet,
because you'll barf.”

Gene scrunched up his
forehead, obviously in pain, but kept his eyes closed.

Ow. Ow. Fucking, Ow. Dr.
Frankenstein
,
you
owe me an aspirin
.”

“I already promised you
dinner and drinks. And don't forget, I gave you phenomenal cosmic
powers, so stop complaining.”

“Oh, I'm not complaining.
I’m in the arms of a beautiful woman who rebooted me into the next
century.”
He grinned between deep breaths
as he tried to get his body back to its normal
rhythms
.

Ingrid kissed his cheek.

All I wanted to do was break stuff or
beat you up. You got me thinking about rebooting with the
source.”

“You never told me about
the barfing part.”

“Mack barfed. Not
me.”

“Really?” Gene was back to talking
normally.

“He woke up first and got up too
fast.”

“Well, thanks for the
heads up.”
Ingrid gave him a playful
shove, positioning the sunglasses. They were pink with rhinestones
on the sides. He looked ridiculous enough to make her laugh out
loud. "What’s so funny?"

"You can open your eyes and sit up
now, but take it slow." She helped him sit and swing his legs over
the side of the bed. “You okay, genius?”

"Yeah. I think. Things look a lot
sharper, even with the sunglasses. You smell..." He brought her
wrist to his nose. "You smell so delicious. Yum." Ingrid pulled her
hand away, laughing. “Did I hurt you while we were…?”

Ingrid was always surprised by his
capacity to think about others before himself. "Not you." She
automatically covered the breast The Director had
brutalized.

"Should I get you some
ice?"

Ingrid examined his scratched arm and
shoulder, rubbing his cheek where she’d smacked it. “I’m healed,
like you appear to be.”

“Yep. I’m good. The lamp, however,
will probably never recover. I hope Diane wasn’t too fond of
it.”

"She’ll live.” Ingrid twisted him
around, pushing him toward the bathroom. “Go look in the mirror.
You're going to need to morph your eye color."

He did as she suggested. "What the
hell?"

"We don't want to freak out the rest
of the troupe."

"This happened to Mack and you,
too?"

"Yep...see?" She let go of the glamour
that hid the new iridescent shade.

"Whoa. That looks amazing. Mack's are
this color?"

"No, his turned bright copper, maybe
'cause his eyes were so much darker to begin with, or maybe it
signifies something else. We haven't had much time to figure it
out."

"It could be an axis-psycore
difference.”

Ingrid nodded. "Always working through
the puzzles, right?"

He winked, adding an impish grin.
"Evil genius, remember?" He wrinkled his nose. “I’m heading back to
my own room to shower, but I’ll be returning with
dessert.”

“You don’t have to stay with
me.”

“We have strategy to plan,
Watson.”

After her own quick shower, Ingrid sat
once more in the window seat, the clouds having cleared away enough
to see a few stars. Gene wasn’t back, so she turned her thoughts to
the party taking place the following night.

Power-wise, she was topped up, which
meant she should have enough magic to pull up a convincing fantasy
to fool a dominant alpha werewolf. Of course, this wasn’t just any
wolf. Even though Joseph Herron’s aura had pulsed with only the
basic magic born in the cells of every wolf, he’d become the top
alpha of the tri-state region by defeating and absorbing the powers
of dozens of now-dead alpha wolves. He was smart enough, and savvy
enough, to hide his strength around people who didn’t need to know
his full potential. Even The Director might not discern the truth.
But Ingrid had sensed the strength, cunning and cruelty of this
male the moment they’d locked gazes backstage.

Gene was back with bowls of ice cream,
watching Ingrid carefully as they ate. He pointed his spoon at her.
“You’re trying to come up with a way to manipulate the alpha’s
mind, right? So he thinks he did—whatever?”

“Haven’t gotten that far yet. Right
now I’m weighing his strengths and weaknesses.”

“His weakness is his ego.”

“And his ignorance.”

“He doesn’t know what you can do.” She
nodded. “Ingrid.” The tone of his voice drew her gaze to his. “What
can you really do?”

“You saw the soldiers.” She swallowed
down a few spoonfuls of the rich, creamy dessert, her muscles and
bones needing to refuel as well.

“What else?” The question hung in the
air. “Do you think I’d betray you?”

“Never. But…” She couldn’t tell him
how much his friendship meant to her. How terrified she was of
losing his respect.

“Friends don’t fuck each other over,”
he snapped.

“I can make them believe whatever I
want. I’ve…experimented on audience members. Confusing them,
scaring them.”

“Have you killed?”

“By accident—and not an audience
member.”

Gene spread his large hand over hers,
stopping the trembling. “You can pull off a fantasy, but he'll be a
tough sell. You'll need extra psy energy. I'll link to you while
we’re at the party, right before you leave with him.”

Other books

The Forgotten Room by Lincoln Child
Grave Danger by Grant, Rachel
The Redhunter by William F. Buckley
El sastre de Panamá by John le Carré
Secret Identity by Graves, Paula
Lullaby Girl by Aly Sidgwick
Sweetie's Diamonds by Raymond Benson
My Father's Dragon by Ruth Stiles Gannett
Shotgun Bride by Linda Lael Miller