Read Dark Passion Rising Online

Authors: Shannan Albright

Dark Passion Rising (5 page)

Cody pounded furiously on the door.  “Tam are you okay? I’m
coming in.”

“No! I… I’m alright just give me a minute and I’ll be out.”

  “If you’re hurt you need to get your ass to the hospital,
cher.”

“I said I’m
fine,
Cody.  I’m just tired.  Wait for me in
the living room.  I’ll be there in just a second.”  She closed her eyes and
waited for what seemed like hours for Cody to answer her.

 “Alright I’ll be in the living room then.  Don’t take too long,
cher, or I will bust down this door,” he warned.

 Tambra leaned weakly against the sink, not sure what was
happening to her.  The idea that Marcus could be telling her the truth made her
stomach churn, but what other possible explanation could there be?  She knew
she had been injured, she had seen the wounds the Lycan had left on her body
that night.  Her mind reeled with the implications.  She couldn’t think about
that right now, not with Cody pacing like a caged tiger in her apartment,
waiting for an explanation she couldn’t even believe herself.

 She went to her bedroom and pulled a tee shirt and some sweats
out of her dresser, and quickly pulled them on before going out to face Cody.

 She found him leaning against her kitchen wall, his face as dark
as thunderclouds when she walked in.

“Cody, I really don’t want to get into this with you tonight. 
We’ll talk about everything tomorrow.”

 “I will hold you to that, Tam,” he warned.

 “Fair enough.  Now, where were you that night?”  She watched him
squirm with a small smile.   

 “Well, this is a little embarrassing, but I got jumped from
behind.  Laid me flat for a while.  By the time I came to and got to the alley
there wasn’t no one there.  Been looking for you ever since.”

 She yawned, unable to keep the exhaustion at bay any longer.  Her
body ached.  She needed rest desperately. 

Cody took it as his cue to leave.  Closing the distance between
them, he gave her a stern look.   “Get some sleep.  You look like hell, cher.”

 She rolled her eyes.  “Gee you really know how to talk to a
gal.”

  His laugh was rich, warm and soothing to her frayed nerves.  She
followed him to the door.

“I haven’t had any complaints yet.”

 “That you know of.  Now get out of here so I can get some
sleep.  Call me in the late morning so we can go through what you find out
about Valerian.”

 “Slave Driver.”

He sighed deeply before placing a kiss on the top of her head,
knowing how much she hated that, and slipping out into the darkness.

 She locked the door and made her way toward a much needed
shower.  Once clean, she pulled on an old, oversized tee shirt and groaned with
pleasure as she sprawled out on her bed, nuzzling her head into her pillow.  As
sleep claimed her, the last thing she envisioned was the dark, masculine face
of Marcus Valerian

 

****

 

 “You just let her go?  Are you insane?” Tegan bellowed, causing
Marcus to flinch from the noise.  His throbbing headache, courtesy of Tambra
and the irreplaceable Tiffany lamp she destroyed, intensified.

 “Yelling will not help us, Tegan.  Allow him to explain,”
Adrian, always the voice of reason, interjected.  He placed his tall body in
front of Tegan, a dumb move for most, but not for Adrian, who could more than
hold his own with the temperamental were-panther.  His voice seemed to sooth
some of Tegan’s agitation.  Tegan retreated, throwing his hands in the air and
dropping into one of the many overstuffed chairs spread throughout the room. 

Marcus’s study was command central for the Enforcers.  A map of
Las Vegas was tacked to one wall and pins of different colors were stabbed into
the paper, denoting locations where they had found feral Lycans and their
victims.  A computer and piles of paper were spread out over the long wooden
table in the study’s center. 

Zeke was busy on the computer, his fingers a blur as they flew
over the keyboard.  But they knew he was listening to every word any of them
uttered.

 Marcus’s dark eyes scanned his men.  Every one of them would lay
down their life for the others, including him, if needed.  Adrian, a member of
the Tuatha Dé Danann, a legendary race, was the Enforcers’ peacekeeper and
diplomat, but a deadly killer with a blade.  Zeke, their technician, was an
intimidating warrior from Atlantis whose teleportation powers had saved their
asses more than a few times.  Ryes, the dark, brooding Celt, had been cursed by
the Goddess Morrigan to an eternity of battle.  Tegan, the were-panther, was hot
headed and deadly with his claws and fangs.  Then there was the newest member
of the group, Christophe, a three hundred year old vampire, still impulsive and
never one to turn down an invitation to a lady’s bed.

 All of them had their own unique abilities, all of them deadly,
and all under oath to uphold the laws of the Tribunal.  Marcus owed every one
of these men an explanation, so he rose from his chair, ignored the slight
dizziness, and faced them.

 “It is true that I let Tambra go.”

The room went silent, even Zeke stopped typing to look in Marcus’s
direction.

“We are not dealing with a civilian in this case, but a cop.  One
whose absence would be noticed.  Questions would be asked.  This way she will
come to us of her own free will and we can avoid complications.”

 “You can’t be certain of that,” Tegan argued.  “What if she
turns and goes on a blood frenzy?  How will we be able to keep that from the
humans?”

 “I trust she will be here before she turns.  Protecting her kind
is first and foremost to her, and she will not put the innocent in jeopardy.”
The strength of Marcus’s conviction rang out.     “And if you’re wrong?  What
then?” Tegan snapped, rising from his seat.  “It seems to me to be an
unnecessary risk.”

 Marcus pinned him with a gaze, his voice as sharp as a well
honed blade. 

“It is my decision to make as leader of this team.  Do you challenge
me, Tegan?”

 “I challenge your decision.  I believe, in regards to Miss
Ellis, you are not as impartial as you have led everyone to think.”

 “My decision, whether impartial or not, is not up for
discussion.”  Marcus’s words cracked with the force of a whip.

 “Is that what you’re going to tell Fox when he comes to pick her
up?  You know he is within his right per pack law to claim any Were created by
a Pure Blood.  Especially when so few of them survive the initial changes,”
Tegan shot back.

 Marcus glared from across the room at Tegan.  His face hard as
granite, he spoke in a deceptively smooth voice.

 “She will remain under Tribunal care until I say otherwise.  Do
I make myself perfectly clear on this?”

 “Like crystal, but I’m not the one you need to convince.” 

 “Leave Fox to me.  I will make my position clear to him when the
time comes.  Right now I need her monitored.  Zeke, that’s you.  While you’re
at it, bug her phone.  We are not taking any chances of her turning and us not
being prepared.”

 “We have another problem, Marcus,” Zeke sighed tiredly.  “I’ve referenced
the outbreaks of Breeds going feral and it’s not just the Lycans.  According to
my findings, it’s affecting all the Breeds.”

 The room grew quiet, the atmosphere heavy with unease at the
news.

 “Show me,” Marcus ordered, his attention on the computer screen
Zeke had turned toward him.  The group crowded around the monitor.  A map of
Las Vegas showed on the screen, different colored flags spread over it,
indicating where Breed attacks had taken place.

 “Each flag color represents a different Breed.  As you can see,
although most are Lycan there are growing numbers of other colors.  Whatever it
is that we’re dealing with it’s spreading,” Zeke explained.  His fingers flew
over the keyboard once again and a chart popped up on the monitor.

“This is the number of attacks recorded and the dates and times.”
 He clicked the mouse and a detailed graph appeared.  “According to the data,
in the last three months the incidents among other Breeds have been rising.”

  “What the hell are we dealing with here?” Ryes growled.

  That was the million dollar question, Marcus thought, running a
hand through his hair with exasperation.  Was this a disease, or something even
more menacing?  They were running out of time.

“Time to switch up our directive.  Bring in
any
Breed who
even looks like they are going feral.”

     As the team filtered out, Marcus went and stood by the large
window, staring out at nothing as the sky lightened.  Due to his age, he could
tolerate sunlight better than most, but he knew better than to be caught out in
it.  He could already feel his strength beginning to diminish.  The longer he
exposed himself to the sun’s rays, the weaker he would become until he could do
nothing but lay paralyzed by the rays, an easy target for his enemies.

  He felt a familiar presence behind him and spoke without
turning.

 “So you saw her safely to her home?”

“Yes, sir.  She is safely within her apartment.  She did have a
visitor though.  I believe it was her partner.”  The man’s English accent was
thick with censure.  Alistair, a Dhampir, the result of a mating between
vampire and human, had been in Marcus’s service for hundreds of years.  Marcus
had saved the child from being burnt at the stake.  Unfortunately, he had been
too late to save Alistair’s parents.  Not as long lived as a turned vampire,
Marcus still considered Alistair family and treated him as such, which was not
the normal practice within the Breed’s society, where Dhampirs were considered
an inferior race.  In return, Alistair gave him his loyalty and an easy
friendship had blossomed between the two men. 

“You don’t approve, Alastair?” Marcus chuckled as he closed the
drapes to the dawn, casting the room in darkness.

  Alastair flipped the lights on.

“It is not my place to approve or disapprove, sir.  It is only my
observation.”

 “An observation that is as keen and sharp as a knife’s edge, old
friend.  I put great value on your deductions,” Marcus said, the warmth of his
tone matching Alistair’s smile.  “So, tell me, what is on your mind?”

Alistair hesitated briefly before he spoke.
“Do you think it wise to further antagonize Mr. Fox?  The way things are it
might be more prudent to give him the female as a show of good faith.”

 Marcus frowned, weighing his words before he spoke.  “This
particular female is most unusual Alistair.  Strong and independent.  I cannot
see her adjusting to the Lycan way of life easily.  In addition, she is a
police officer with a sense of duty.   A woman who is used to dispensing her
own justice.”

 “Yes, I do see your point.  Just tread carefully, for these are
treacherous times.”  Alastair sighed tiredly, his age worn face looking more
haggard than usual.  “Will you be retiring for the day?”

 “Yes, Alastair.  I believe there is little left to do until this
evening.”

  “Very well.  May the Gods guard your sleep,” Alastair intoned
the first lines of an ancient Breed prayer.

 “Let the earth nourish you, the water quench your thirst, and
the air breathe renewal unto you, my old friend,” Marcus finished.

 With a small smile, Alistair left Marcus alone to dwell on his
thoughts, all filled with Tambra.

 Tegan had hit too close to the truth about Marcus’s reaction to
Tambra.  A reaction Marcus did not wish to ponder.  He had no business getting
close to the human officer, and yet, he could not get her out of his thoughts. 
He had tended to her as she lay ill, and the thought of another man comforting
her was… unacceptable.  His back teeth ground together so hard his jaw ached. 
No, he would
not
think that.  Tambra Ellis was only a test subject, one
he would watch for any signs of the Lycan disease. 
If
that was even
what they were dealing with.  Once there was no more use for her, he would
discard her and not think another thought about her.

 He refused to acknowledge how hollow and false those words
sounded in his head.

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 Tambra walked into Captain Miguel Suarez’s office at seven sharp. 
Files and mounds of papers were strewn across his desk, a large cup of coffee
by the phone.  He looked up from his work as she walked in, his dark eyes sharp
on her face as his body relaxed noticeably in his chair.  She was surprised to
find more lines of stress around his mouth and eyes than she remembered.  He
looked tired.  He rose from the desk, quickly making his way to the door and
shutting it firmly before embracing her.


Dios, querida
!  I have been looking for you everywhere!”
he growled, emotion making his Spanish accent more apparent than normal. “Where
have you been?”

 Pulling away, she pushed down the guilt she felt at causing this
man so much anxiety.  Miguel had been a close friend of her father’s and had
been like family to her as she grew up. The idea of being the cause of his
worry was bad enough, having to lie to him made that guilt sit heavily in the
pit of her stomach.  She knew there was no choice, if she told him what really
happened she would find herself on a quick trip to a shrink.  Shit, she wasn’t
even sure what had happened.

  Straightening her spine, she decided to keep to the truth as
much as she could.

“I am so sorry to make you worry, Miguel.  I was attacked while
chasing down a perp, and then I was waking up three days later.”

 “We need to have a doctor look at you, where have you been?  I
checked your apartment, so I know you haven’t been there.” He looked her over
with a critical eye.

 Tambra raised a hand in a calming gesture.

“I’m fine, really.  I hit my head in a scuffle with the perp, and
a concerned citizen came to my aid.  Once I came around I left and, well, here
I am,” she finished lamely, fighting not to squirm under Miguel’s intense stare
as the minutes stretched out slowly in the thickening silence.

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