Fire's Touch (The Enlightened Species Book Three) (9 page)

Though she kept her face blank, the horror she'd witnesses was plain to see in her eyes. No wonder she didn’t go home. Conlon doubted she showed that to many … if any. Maybe yesterday’s back rub had softened her somewhat.

The look vanished with a blink and her brows furrowed with annoyance. “Not that it’s any of your business, but to fully answer your question, at the last quarter’s reconciliation, my net worth was just over seven hundred billion, and my companies employ more than nine hundred thousand people worldwide.” Jack choked on the water he'd been drinking and Stacey turned back toward the window.

Seven … hundred … billion!
That was more than most countries had in treasury. Yet something felt off. Yes, that was more than enough money to create problems … but a niggling feeling told him there was more to it than money or her being Hulven.

A solid gate slid open in front of the lead Hummer. Conlon felt the tingle of a psychic sensitive energy weave as the limo crossed the fence line peppered with 'electrified' warnings. They pulled in front of a long two story, reinforced-brick structure. Armed guards stood at military attention on both sides of the doors, and other guards were scattered around the grounds. Some had Tellus shifted to dog forms. Every guard was an enlightened species. Conlon recognized many of them. All are good warriors too. She must pay very well. For someone who wanted to
surprise
the corporate people, Stacey made a big splash with the security personnel when she arrived at Winkel Holdings.

“Now, Meneer Jack?” Alto asked from the driver’s seat.

“Not this time, Alto. I’ll let you out when it’s clear,” Jack answered. The old man sighed.

Conlon watched the other members of her personal detail exit the Hummers and surround the limo. This was more like it. Maybe Conlon hadn’t given Jack enough credit. He and Jack stepped out on the driver’s side. Jack received a nod from several of the guards before he opened the door for Alto. The old man shuffled to Stacey's door and opened it with the flourishing grace of a man who loved to serve.

With Conlon, Mattie and Jack right behind her Stacey climbed the three steps to the door, her head high and determined. Through the glass, he could see people roaming around the reception area. An elevator opened and people got on. Some looked right at them, yet no one seemed to notice Stacey's appearance at the door. Placing her hand on a scanner next to the glass, she whispered a short phrase into the device so low that even Conlon's sensitive ears couldn't quite pick it up. He felt her send out a pulse of kinetic energy. Instead of the front doors opening, the entire glass structure lifted, taking the reception facade with it. Okay … Conlon was officially impressed.

“The public entrance is actually on the other side.” Jack elbowed Conlon with a smirk.

They stepped into a small space. Stacey set her chin on a platform and Conlon could see a tiny laser beam scan her eye. This place was like Fort Knox. The wall slid away to reveal a metal detector and a line of guards with weapons drawn. Conlon gauged the gun clips, noting some were loaded with regular bullets while others had tranquilizers. A few guards held taser wands.

Stacey stepped through the metal detector first. A heavily muscled Elven guard stepped in front of Stacey, his weapon trained on Conlon. Normally Conlon would have applauded the guard’s maneuver. Conlon and Mattie were unfamiliar faces, after all.

Instead his heart lurched in his chest. Without thought about honor, duty, his life or the growl rumbling through his chest, he attacked the male standing between him and Stacey. Mattie started to shift, quills erupted across her arms. Her partially shifted form spun in circles, taking out half the guns and taser wands, perforating the limbs of the guards who'd been holding them.

The big guard who’d stupidly thought to protect Stacey from Conlon went down like a sack of potatoes under Conlon's fury. Grappling on the ground, he saw Jack step in to protect Stacey. Her wide eyes shifted between him and Mattie. The shot of a tranq gun snapped her out of whatever incredulous trance she seemed to be in. “ENOUGH!” she yelled. The guards immediately lowered their weapons but remained alert.

Mattie was on the ground, her clothes tattered from her sudden shift, leaving both her breasts and much of her private area exposed. Her eyes were closed and a tranq dart quivered in her thigh. Untangling his limbs from the likewise unconscious beefeater guard he'd knocked out by bashing his head against the concrete floor, Conlon roared and made his way to Mattie. He stripped off his shirt and laid it over her. Most Tellus were inherently modest; with a royal bloodline, Mattie was even more so. He yanked the dart out of her leg and threw it against the wall so hard it chipped the painted cinder block.

Stacey knelt on the other side of Mattie. “Get the fucking antidote! Why are you just standing around?” she barked out. Her gaze slid past his, giving him a momentary flash of apology before falling to Mattie’s lax face. “Jack, have Alto bring in my emergency bag from the limo trunk.” Her voice held no room for negotiation.

The door facade and sliding wall had closed behind them the moment they'd cleared the threshold. Alto shuffled in from the hallway behind Stacey, surrounded by heavily armed guards. Stacey turned and removed the small overnight bag from her friend. Looking at Mattie, the chauffeur tsked with concern. Someone knelt to give Mattie an injection. Conlon's growl reverberated against the walls. Alto took a step back as his eyes widened. Oh, hell!

“It's okay, Alto. Conlon is like me. Mattie is his partner, and he’s reacting to her being hurt. Don't be afraid.” Stacey displayed more gentleness with Alto than he'd seen her give anyone else.

With the antidote injected, Mattie moaned softly. Stacey lifted her eyes to Conlon’s. Twin sapphire-blue pools held concern and something else he couldn’t quite decipher. The urge to pull her into his arms and hold her forever overwhelmed him. He felt the tips of her fingers lightly cover his at Mattie’s abdomen as her expression cleared to reveal a deep level of remorse, self recrimination, and … longing. What did she long for? If she asked at that moment, Conlon would gladly sever his own hamstrings just to make her smile. He’d never felt anything like that for anyone. Of course he’d never jumped a guard for doing his job either.

“Will you carry her?” Stacey whispered, shifting her gaze uncomfortably. She had been so dismissive, Conlon had started to believe the draw he felt was one-sided. Her eyes gave her away, whether she made snaky comments or not. Conlon nodded and lifted Mattie against his chest. His shirt barely hid her. “Turn your backs before I gouge your eyes out,” Stacey snapped. The guards instantly obeyed. “Follow me.”

She led the way back down the hall and into an elevator, where she stood a half-foot in front of him, her back stiff, face averted. The only indication of stress was the slight trembling in her hand when she reached for the floor button. In the reflective door, Conlon saw her close her eyelids, and her mouth took an O-shape as she let out a nearly silent, long, fortifying exhale.

Instead of going up as Conlon expected, the elevator went down and opened to show the plush, thick carpet of living quarters. He crossed a distance of a private office and reception area that was easily a thousand square feet before entering an expensively furnished living room and elegant dining room with seating for at least twenty people. Stacey opened another door. Beyond the door the hallway led to row after row of one- and two-bedroom apartments, fully stocked; thirty families could live there comfortably. The hall ended in yet
another
reinforced wall. Conlon felt Stacey send out a kinetic pulse and the wall slid to the side, revealing her suite. Front and center sat a king-sized bed.

How the hell had rogues ever gotten near her in the first place? Then it occurred to him that these were precautions Stacey had probably done
because
of her capture. Damn.

Though Mattie was coming around, she was still somewhat lethargic. “Just lay her on the bed. I'll take care of her. I'm sure I have something in my closet that will fit her.” Conlon could hear the guilt in Stacey's voice.

Did she feel responsible for what happened upstairs? It was Conlon's fault. He had reacted on pure instinct to his bloodmate being separated from him by an unknown male and his perceived denial of access to her. His feral response had taken control of him, and his partner had paid the price.

Conlon set Mattie on the plush mattress and turned to capture the back of Stacey’s head with the palm of his hand. Heavy silk tress between his fingers sent a surge of arousal through him. A startled gasp left her lips, but her gaze was infused with the look of longing again. “This was my fault, not yours. My primal male instinct took over and I lost control. Whatever you think you’re responsible for … don’t.”

He wasn’t sure about the flash of gratitude, but the infusion of passion within the blue depths took his breath away. Her gaze shifted to his lips.
Oh, yeah
. Conlon leaned in as Stacey’s tongue peeked out moistening that full, quivering bottom lip.

“Con ...” Mattie’s voice shattered the moment. Stacey jerked her head from his hand, glared at him, and darted into a closet.

“I'm here. Thanks for having my back, princess.” She gave him a shaky smile and her eyes fluttered closed.

Conlon rose and stood facing the wall while Stacey stripped Mattie’s tattered clothing and helped her dress. The tiled floor of what must have been the bathroom called to him. He could relieve the pressure in his jean in two minutes. Pressure that increased as a wave of coconut surrounded him, snapping his head on his spine with more power than a roundhouse kick to the face. He stifled a groan.

He could hear the girls talking quietly. “How long has my sister worked for you?” Mattie asked, her voice laced with hurt and anger.

“Pretty much since the night of my rescue.”

A phone rang shrilly from the tattered remains of Mattie’s cloths. Keeping his back turned from the girls in consideration of Mattie’s modesty, he sidestepped to within reach and fished her phone out of her pocket. “Conlon.”

He recognized Prince Hansi’s voice and his immediate concern for Mattie. Quickly reassuring the Tellus male, he handed the phone off the Mattie. His attention caught on Stacey ducking into the bathroom while Mattie took the call behind him.

“Well?” she snapped into the phone. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the call had something to do with Princess Cassiopeia. Conlon could make out occasional words, and then Mattie started cursing. “Hans I need to … do something. Don’t see her again until I have more information, please.” She hung up and let out a shaky sigh.

Chapter Nine

I almost kissed him.
Granted, in her youth she had held to a grandiose idea of saving herself for marriage. Though Stacey’s early, carefree encounters were technically “no sex,” she’d done pretty much everything short of. And by far, kissing was what she missed the most.

Stacey knew her gaze kept traveling to Conlon’s thick, muscled back again and again. Luckily Mattie was so distracted she didn’t seem to notice. Stacey wished she could “not notice.” It took her three tries to hook Mattie’s ankle with the yoga pants before supporting her while she stood shakily and tugged them up. Stacey used the opportunity of her being on her feet to settle the light sweatshirt on the Tellus female’s body.

From the bag Alto had grabbed out of the car, she fished out a boxed orange drink, a bag of brown powder, an empty syringe, and a vial. Stacey had added items to her emergency bag for Cassie years ago—not that she would ever have told her friend. Tellus were a secretive species. It had taken careful observation and Stacey’s signature disinterest for her to realize what it took to truly keep Cassie healthy. Then she just quietly took care of it since Cassie no longer had the support of her colony to see to her needs.

She hadn’t been surprised to learn the Tellus species required blood to survive. It was their deficiency that they needed blood to counteract, and the process they used to get what they needed had shocked the hell out of her. Their bodies required more calcium than they could get from regular means and absorbed best when mixed with blood. Tellus would inject themselves with dried, crushed bone meal and then bloodlet for the benefit of their brethren, receiving other Tellus’s blood in return. It was a part of their community, their social structure. Without the support of her colony, Cassie had been getting weaker. She was forced to beg for the calcium-enriched blood.

Unlike anemic Volaticus who could store mass quantities of blood , Tellus needed to drink it within a few minutes or it lost potency somehow. By working a hunch, Stacey learned to help Cassie the same way she was about to help Mattie, who lay completely exhausted with her eyes closed. Though she justified it by telling herself Johnny’s chief of security needed to be at full strength … and not that she actually cared.

“How long has my sister worked for you?” Mattie asked softly.

Stacey debated whether or not to answer. Did she really want to get involved in their family shit? The pained expression on Cassie’s face when she saw Mattie flashed through her mind. “Pretty much since the night I was rescued.”

When Mattie took a phone call, Stacey handed her the box of orange juice, grabbed the items she needed, and ducked into the bathroom. Using her teeth, she tied off her forearm with the tie from her bathrobe. Denied blood flow, the section quickly swelled, making her veins more pronounced. Puncturing one of them with the syringe, she pulled back on the plunger until the container filled with the deep red of her blood. She poured the brown, powdered bone meal into the vial and added the blood, along with a second syringe full of blood. Capping the vial, she removed the tie from her arm and stepped back into the room.

Mattie sat on the edge of the bed her head in her hands. “What is it?” Stacey asked. The Tellus swayed with fatigue.

“It’s Cassie.”

All rational thought vanished, leaving Stacey gasping for breath through the lump in her throat.