Phantom Shadows

Okay. That got her attention. Would Chris really do that? Would he take it so far? Let his dislike of Bastien flow over onto her?

Even if it did, wouldn’t the importance of her research tie his hands?

“Trust is everything, Melanie. You don’t want to lose theirs and have your every decision countermanded, your every motivation questioned. Such becomes tiresome very quickly.”

Something to ponder, true. But Melanie wasn’t willing to give up what Bastien made her feel for a few negative what-ifs. She felt certain she could find a way around any obstacle Chris might throw in their path.

“So no more kissing?” she asked slowly.

The look that crossed his face was a mixture of relief and regret. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Rising onto her toes, she leaned into him and captured those silken lips with her own.

No one tasted better than Sebastien. No one kissed better. And he may think kissing her a bad idea, but he didn’t pull away.

He wound his arms around her waist even as she slid hers up around his neck.

Melanie pushed him back into the wall and leaned into his large, firm, muscular form.

Bastien groaned. “You’re making this very hard for me.”

She grinned and rubbed her hips against his. “That’s sort of the whole point.”

He smiled. “You aren’t going to give up, are you?”

She stared up at him, at his glowing eyes, his face so relaxed with that handsome half smile. “No,” she said somberly. “I haven’t felt this way in a long time, Bastien.”

His smile slowly faded. “Nor have I.”

“I’m not going to refrain from exploring what’s happening between us because others may not approve. It’s too important.”

He stroked her hair. “You’re so fearless. I wish I could be, too.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You are. You went up against I-don’t-know-how-many soldiers on your own tonight.”

“For you.”

“Well . . .” She drew a hand down to his chest. “When it comes to us, I want you to follow your feelings, not do what you think is best for me. If you don’t want to kiss me because you aren’t interested—”

“You know I am,” he said gruffly.

“Then stop thinking and act.”

“There will be consequences.”

“We’ll deal with those as they arise.” She couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t pushing her away. “So, are we going to do this?”

“Dude, I say go for it,” Sheldon said as he strolled down the hall toward them. “Melanie is smokin’ hot and you’re . . . you.”

As Melanie reluctantly moved away from Bastien, whose arms she was happy to note were a little slow to release her, Sheldon held out a pile of folded clothes.

She took them. “Thank you.”

He nodded and sized the two of them up. “I can hold off on warming up the pot pie if you guys want to have sex. Just let me know so I can put in my earbuds and blast Disturbed in case one of you is a screamer.” He looked pointedly at Bastien.

Melanie laughed.

Bastien scowled. “How has Richart not killed you yet?”

“That’s what his brother and sister keep asking.”

“And Ami,” Bastien added with an evil grin.

Anxiety instantly darkened Sheldon’s face. “Really? Has she said something to you? Is she coming for me? She isn’t coming for me, is she?”

Wow. He seemed genuinely afraid of Ami. Did he know what she was? That she was different? Or was it something else Melanie hadn’t heard about?

“I don’t know,” Bastien said slowly. “I suppose it depends in part on my treatment during our stay here. Ami and I are close friends, you know.”

Sheldon swallowed. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Melanie started to wonder why Bastien wasn’t worried about Ami being associated with him, then realized he didn’t have to. Seth would kill anyone who treated Ami badly.

Sheldon forced a laugh and clapped Bastien on the shoulder. “Dude, I was totally joshing you about the screaming thing. You want me to hold off on the pot pie? ’Cause I don’t mind.”

“No.” Bastien sent Melanie a rueful smile. “Go ahead and heat it up. We’ll join you shortly.”

“Yes, sir. And, if you change your mind, don’t worry about it. I’ll keep it warm for you.” After giving Melanie a grinning thumbs-up, he hurried down the hallway and out of sight.

Bastien shook his head. “That boy is strange.”

Melanie smiled. “But I can see why Richart likes him.”

“And why Ami doesn’t.”

Melanie laughed.

Bastien moved closer, bent his head, and touched his lips to hers in a brief caress. “Shall I meet you out here in ten minutes?”

His touch sent her slowing pulse racing again. “Make it fifteen. It takes me awhile to comb my hair out when it’s wet.”

“Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

She smiled and stole another kiss. “So will I.”

Chapter 9

“Sir?”

Emrys turned away from greeting his guests, noted the soldier’s grim expression, and clenched his teeth. Holding up a hand to stay the soldier’s words, he faced his guests once more and donned a false smile. “This will only take a moment. If you’ll head into my office, I’ll join you shortly.”

Nodding, they entered his office.

Emrys reached in, grabbed the doorknob, and pulled the door closed. “What is it?” he murmured to the soldier.

“We’ve lost contact with Team Viper.”

“Damn it. I told you to maintain radio silence in the field. The squawk of a radio or the vibration of a cell phone is guaranteed to give away your positions.”

“Yes, sir. We have not attempted to contact any of the groups in the field. But they were ordered to contact us at the top of every hour, either with a few clicks over the radio or with a phone call, asking one of a dozen predetermined, totally inane questions that anyone with preternatural hearing would assume came from one of the students on campus. Team Viper has done neither for two hours. They’ve gone silent.”

“All of them?”

“Yes, sir. Should we try to raise them on the radio? Call one of their cell phones?”

“No. Send Black Mambo to UNC. Full stealth mode.” He started to turn away, paused, and reconsidered. “Where’s Team Taipan?”

“NCCU, sir. They just checked in.”

“Have them meet Black Mambo at UNC.”

“Yes, sir.”

Emrys entered his office and closed the door behind him. “Gentlemen, thank you for meeting with me.” He motioned to the chairs facing his desk. “Please, have a seat and make yourselves comfortable.”

“How have you been?” Donald asked, taking the seat on the right as Nelson seated himself on the left. “I haven’t heard from you since . . . the incident.”

Emrys ground his teeth again, but made damn sure he kept his smile as he circled the desk and seated himself behind it.

Donald hadn’t seen him since Emrys had been dishonorably discharged from the military.

“I’ve been good. I’ve been busy.”

Donald nodded. “I was surprised to hear who my competition was.”

Yeah, I bet you were, Emrys thought. Donald had retired from the military a year after Emrys had been forced out. But Donald had been given a going away party. Donald had been asked to stay. Donald had turned down a promotion.

Then Donald had done the same thing Emrys had: gone into the professional army business. More money. Less risk to himself. And, let’s face it, as Emrys’s son frequently said, mercenaries kicked ass.

Nelson was Donald’s right-hand man. Emrys had never met him before today and didn’t know if Nelson was looking down his nose at Emrys because he had heard about the incident or if he was just an arrogant dick because he and Donald had found greater success than Emrys had.

No thanks to the Immortal Guardians. Emrys was convinced now that those were the bastards who had stolen Amiriska, though what they wanted with the alien bitch he couldn’t guess.

While only a handful knew what he had been doing in his central Texas facility, the loss his company had suffered as a result of the immortals’ raid had been a big one. And the lies told to cover up the research he had been hired to conduct had severely damaged his credibility.

All of that, however, was about to change.

“As was I,” Emrys said at last.

“I heard you ran into some trouble two or three years ago. This is a tricky business, is it not?”

Just keep smiling. You need this asshole’s money. “It certainly is. But things are looking very good for me right now.”

Donald exchanged a skeptical look with Nelson. “Are they?”

“How so?” Nelson asked.

“What we’re about to discuss doesn’t leave this room,” Emrys warned.

“All right,” Donald verbalized as both nodded.

“I’ve recently discovered something that will make me a very wealthy man. I might even go so far as to say one of the wealthiest men in the world. And, if you play your cards right, you can join me in my triumph.”

“What, did you sleep with the lotto girl?” Nelson joked.

Emrys shook his head, his smile genuine now. “Something even better.”

“What are we talking here?” Donald asked. “Weapons? Bioweapons? Drones? Software?”

“I’ve discovered the means of creating what every nation and rebel army on the planet wants: the ultimate supersoldier.”

Donald snorted. “Shit. We already have supersoldiers: men who don’t give a rat’s ass who they kill as long as they get paid to do it. It doesn’t get any better than that.”

“Oh, but it does.” Leaning forward, Emrys planted his elbows on his desk. “I’m not talking about psychological supersoldiers. I’m talking about physical supersoldiers. An army of men who are faster and stronger than anyone else on the planet. Men who can heal from any wound inflicted upon them in minutes. An army of men who will spark bidding wars throughout the world, because everyone is going to want them on their side.” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">