Virna DePaul: Turned

He actually slapped her ass, making her scream in fury once more.

“You’ve done quite enough damage to my balls already, thank you very much. Now you’re going to have to take your punishment.”

The world spun as he lowered her to the ground and himself on top of her. Her ponytail had come loose. Her dark hair was hanging in her face and she could barely see him through it, but she could feel him, all his hard angles pressing into her softest places. He gathered her wrists in his hand and held them over her head. Then he lowered his head until he spoke right into her ear.

“Now,” he said. “Just tell me where my gun is. Once you do that, it’ll be a fair challenge.”

His voice sounded different. Slightly slurred.

“You weren’t worried about playing fair when you got a head start on me,” she snapped.

He seemed to consider that. “I suppose I wasn’t. What does that tell you?”

“That you’re an unscrupulous, manipulative bastard that’s willing to work any situation to your advantage so you can get what you want.”

Finally, he raised his head and his gaze met hers. His expression was hard. “That’s right. Now, tell me. What is it you think I want right now?” His hips pressed forward. Even if they hadn’t, she’d know he was aroused. His erection hardened and lengthened with each second that passed.

Oh God, had she totally misjudged him? Was this what he’d wanted all along? Was he going to—

“Don’t you fucking look at me like that,” he clipped out, the curse word sounding as foreign coming out of his mouth as his accent. “I’m not going to rape you. But I don’t have to, do I? You want me. And something tells me if I kiss you—just kiss you—you’ll tell me exactly where my gun is. What are the odds that I’m right?”

As fear drained from her body, it was replaced swiftly by anger. She felt her face flame and hated that her weakness was so transparent. Worse yet, she hated him for being witness to it. She renewed her struggles, but that didn’t stop him from lowering his lips to hers.

“Bite me,” he warned, “and I swear I’ll bite you back.”

She didn’t bite him.

She couldn’t.

She was too busy trying to stifle her every sound and every reaction to his kiss. The first touch of his cool mouth to hers seared her nerve endings, and although he kept the contact quick and gentle, she was shaking when he raised his head.

“Where’s the gun?”

She stared mutely back at him.

“You want me to kiss you again, sweetheart?”

She tried shaking her head. Wasn’t sure if she actually did. She said nothing, however, afraid if she did she’d give herself away.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

She wanted him to kiss her again. But damn if she’d tell him so.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to hear it. Lowering his head once more, he was neither quick nor gentle. This time, his touch didn’t feel cool.

This time, he opened his mouth and penetrated hers with his tongue.

This time, heat swept from him into her so hot and so fast she practically ignited. She whimpered, and the sound shocked her out of her lust-induced trance. No, she thought. I won’t let this happen. I can’t.

Wrenching her mouth from his, she turned her face to the side, closed her eyes, and surrendered. “Your gun’s in the cabinet under the toaster.”

Several seconds ticked by. The only sound was that of their breath being dragged in and out of their lungs. Ana clenched her teeth. “You won, okay? Get off me.”

“Look at me.” His words were dark and commanding.

Bitterly, she opened her eyes and turned back to him.

His expression was savage. His eyes burned with hunger.

“This isn’t a victory, Ana. Not for either one of us. But if you can get over your attitude, you’ll find I can be generous. You can also judge this for yourself. I don’t lie. Ever. Your sister is alive. She’s healthy. She seems happy. You want a shot at the same? You want to be reunited with her? Then listen to me. Just listen before you make up your mind. What do you say?”

She hesitated for a moment then nodded. “Fine. But only if you get off of me. And only if you promise never to touch me again.”

He stared at her silently then pushed himself to standing. “I can’t promise that. I told you, I don’t lie. Now, are you ready to listen?” He held out his hand.

And to her amazement, she took it.

FBI Headquarters

Washington, D.C .

When Special Agent Kyle Mahone’s cell phone rang it washalf past midnight and the caller’s number was blocked. No biggie. He knew who was calling and why, and even though it technically involved FBI business, he’d been ordered to keep that business as far away from the Bureau as possible. Which was why he immediately packed up his things and left, not just the J. Edgar Hoover building but the city limits.

Doing what he did for a living, paranoia was a way of life, and being paranoid had saved his life more than once. As of four months ago, he and Assistant Director Rick Hallifax were the only two people inside the FBI who knew about Operation Belladonna and its true purpose—to cover the Bureau’s ass at all costs.

The real problem?

Mahone was no longer sure whether he should be covering the Bureau’s ass or exposing it for the entire nation to see. Until he was sure, however, it was going to be business as usual.

Once he determined he hadn’t been followed, he dialed Carly’s phone number.

When she answered, Mahone asked, “Has Ty made contact?”

“He’s talking to her even as we speak,” Carly responded. “Just as we suspected, she’s going to need some convincing. We’ll debrief her slowly. Make sure she’s truly committed to seeing her sister again before we introduce her to the others and tell her.”

Tell her that vampires actually existed, she meant.

Tell her that Ty Duncan was one of them, but only because he’d been forcibly turned by a group of Rogues who—oh yes, by the way—had once been working for the FBI but were now liabilities the Bureau couldn’t afford.

Fuck, Mahone thought as he ran a hand through his hair. All he’d ever wanted was to serve his country and work for the FBI. He hadn’t been naive about it, either. He’d accepted long ago that safety and freedom came with a price. That sometimes things needed doing in spite of traditional notions of morality.

But what he was dealing with now?

When had his life become such a nightmare?

He grimaced at his inane mental questioning. He knew exactly when. When the FBI had discovered vampires. When the FBI had assured vampire leaders it would keep their existence a secret. When the FBI had conspired against those leaders by recruiting vampire traitors to work for them in the Turning Program. And most of all, when those traitors—Rogues—had decided to fuck over the Bureau by going out on their own, forcibly turning humans, including several FBI agents, and wreaking havoc in general.

Hallifax was freaking. He was afraid all the work he’d put into the FBI’s Turning Program was going to be ruined or, even worse, that the Rogues would reveal the existence of vampires to U.S. citizens. He wanted Mahone and Carly and the rest of the Belladonna team to eliminate that threat. And he wanted it done before anyone, including the Vampire Queen, found out the truth.

According to Carly, the way to accomplish that was by recruiting four human females to help them. Mahone wasn’t so sure. Not for the first time, he voiced his concerns.

“Maybe we should think this through again, Carly, before it’s too late. We’re talking about four women with no common connection except one tragic night. Three of them with no law enforcement experience whatsoever. Let’s not get them killed. Could make our mission even more difficult.”