Virna DePaul: Turned

“Skip the sarcasm, Mahone. Hallifax expects us—Ty, Peter, you, and me—to accomplish miracles with very little support. You’re my only link to the Bureau. We can’t do this on our own. We need people in the field that we can trust, who need what we can give them.”

Mahone rolled his eyes. Not like Carly could see him.

“And these four women?” she continued. “They need. More important, they deserve. The FBI—no, I —screwed up their lives by failing to stop that gang shooting seven years ago,” Carly said softly. “They were all negatively affected by it—”

“Which is why,” he interrupted her, “if they knew the truth, they’d just as soon fuck the FBI over rather than help it—”

“But they don’t know the truth,” Carly insisted. “And they don’t need to know the truth about the FBI’s involvement in that shooting. Not the full truth, anyway. But I know the truth. All that matters is I have a chance to make things right for them. Starting with the one woman who can help get us into Salvation’s Crossing.”

“Ana.”

“Yes,” Carly confirmed.

Salvation’s Crossing was a Hispanic rights organization. But according to Hallifax, under the surface it was actually a militarized cult with ties to the Rogues. Hallifax suspected the cult was helping the Rogues victimize humans, including buying and trading illegal immigrants as blood sources for other vampires.

Given her background, Ana would absolutely be of use to Belladonna in infiltrating the cult. “But the others—”

“Have unique skills we can hone,” Carly said. “And even if they didn’t, they’re beautiful and they’re human. We can capitalize on both those things.”

“And you really think you can convince them to join us? You think you can trust them even after they find out the truth?”

“I do. I’ve been watching these women for a long time. The FBI took things from them. Ana spent two years in prison and lost all contact with her sister. Barrett Miles and Justine Maverick lost loved ones. And Collette Parker seems to be paying the highest price of all—her life.”

“We’re all dying,” Mahone said, but only because he was used to playing devil’s advocate. Everything Carly said was true. The four women had all been unnecessary victims of a gang shooting the FBI could have stopped but hadn’t. The Bureau had been more concerned with gaining favor with the Devil’s Crew gang—which ironically turned out to include several born vampires—than with protecting the innocent.

Now Carly thought the four women could help the Bureau take down the Rogues. Big question mark as far as Mahone was concerned.

It seemed risky. It seemed unnecessary. It seemed … wrong.

But in the end, what choice did he have? Carly was right—she couldn’t bring down the Rogues on her own. And Ty and Peter might have unique strengths as vampires, but they also had undeniable limitations.

“You said you’d trust my instincts, Mahone. Have you changed your mind?” Carly asked.

He wanted to change his mind. Didn’t want to support the recruitment of four human females who had no idea what they’d be up against. But that’s why they needed them. Because no one, not even the women themselves, would suspect what they were going to use them for.

“No,” he said. “Bring Ana Martin in. Debrief her. And keep me posted.”

As Ty walked behind the counter and retrieved his gun, Ana got to her feet and sat at one of the larger tables. It took her a moment to catch her breath, far longer than that to stop shaking. She wanted him gone. Now. But by fighting him for his gun, she’d tacitly agreed to his terms, so she’d do what she agreed to. She’d hear what he had to say. Then she’d kick him out and make sure she never saw him again.

Even as she kept her gaze averted, she tried to wipe her mind clean of the memory of his touch. His kiss. When he stood next to her, however, she had no choice but to look at him. For a second, she swore his gaze dropped to her mouth and her lips actually tingled. She automatically licked them in an effort to drive the sensation away, but all she got for her trouble was the faint taste of him on her tongue. Although she managed to stifle a moan, the darkening of his eyes suggested he knew she’d had to do so. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he extracted a business card from a small polished case that he slipped out of his pocket and held it out to her.

Slowly, she took it.

All it had on it was an agency name and phone number. “I’m Ty Duncan. As you can see from that card, I work for an organization called Belladonna.”

She couldn’t deny how intrigued she was, any more than she could deny her body’s visceral response to his. “Go on.”

“Belladonna is Italian for ‘beautiful lady.’ It is also a plant whose berry juice was used in Italy to enlarge the pupils of women, giving them a striking appearance. Not a good idea, since the juice can be poisonous.”

“Thanks for the history lesson.”

He sighed. “I’m trying to explain why I want to hire you, specifically. Someone who is both beautiful and deadly.”

She stared at him with her mouth open, then snorted. Right. Like he found her beautiful. Kissing her to distract her was one thing, but she’d bet the women he slept with spent serious money on clothes, wore silk lingerie to bed, and sipped tea out of antique porcelain cups in the morning. Plus they probably used endearments like “dahling” or “poopsie.”

“Belladonna is a private intelligence agency,” he continued. “Not listed anywhere. We maintain the strictest confidentiality, for both our clients and our employees. We also mainly employ women.”

Surprise tickled the back of her spine. Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, it hadn’t been this. The only private intelligence agencies she’d heard of dealt in intellectual property—corporate secrets, not national security. Nonetheless, she told herself to play along. To find out exactly what connection this man had to Gloria.

“Why women?” She was relieved that her voice sounded steady, even a little bored.

“Specializing in female agents allows us to maintain a variety of covers. To go where the government can’t.”

“What kind of intelligence, specifically?”

“Intelligence that bad guys don’t want us to have.”

Her mouth twisted and she nodded. “Ah, por supuesto . You’re one of the good guys. Saving the world from criminals and bureaucratic bullshit all at the same time.”

He grinned and stretched, raising his arms high above his head as if working out the leftover kinks from their tussle. His sleeves strained to contain bulging biceps and his shirttail lifted, revealing just the slightest glimpse of a ridged, rock-hard stomach.

Oh, God, she silently moaned.

What’s wrong with me? I’ve never been this attracted to a man before .

And it wasn’t just her body that was reacting to him. It was almost as if he’d inserted himself in her mind …

But then, she’d never met a man like him before. He was a novelty, that was all. Dragging her gaze away and up, she narrowed her eyes at the twinkle in his.

He quirked his lips, then lowered his arms and shrugged. “Does it really matter to you whether we’re the good guys?”

She hesitated. “Let’s assume for a minute it does.”

“In that case, good or bad is a relative term, but yes, I believe what we’re trying to do is for the common good.”

“Good for the world and good for you,” she said.

When he raised a questioning brow, she said, “I’m assuming you get paid well for what you do?”