Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (18 page)

“He seemed to be feeling a lot better
all of a sudden.” Gene turned to Ingrid, annoyed. “We’re not
supposed to speak to the norms. There was something not right about
that guy.”

Placing a finger over her lips, she
said, "Our secret." Gene shook his head, but Ingrid tugged on a
lock of his hair to get his attention. “There’s nothing normal
about watching your family starve to death.”

“That guy was hiding
something.”

“Who isn’t?”

He draped an arm over her shoulder,
pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. "You’re always
surprising me."

"They're humans, not norms. We should
try to remember that our parents were human too." Every theta was
born from two human parents. Sometimes only one child in the family
was a theta, sometimes all of them. No matter how many, the parents
had to deliver them to the closest institute on their third
birthday or risk death.

When Gene and Ingrid arrived at the
restaurant, they took care of business, ordering dinner for eight
to be delivered to Johnny’s address. As per Gene’s request, they
were seated at a cozy and private table near the back.

“I’m afraid I’ve given away my cash,
so dinner’s on you. Even Johnny’s.”

Gene laughed and nodded. "I can handle
it."

Theta troupes were paid an
extravagant salary to disguise the fact that they were slaves and
not
employees
of
The Director. The surprisingly vocal underground media bashed the
slave mongers of the world, mostly vampires and the more powerful
wolf packs. Learning that thetas were performing because they were
forced was not something The Director wanted broadcast along the
underground airwaves. He’d lose ticket sales and might have to
spend time cleaning out the hidden dens where these underground
groups were based. It was easier to pay the troupe good wages,
placing the money in bank accounts that could be accessed with an
eye scan and a thumbprint. Ingrid was sure the arrogant prick
didn’t keep track of troupe funds, since it had never occurred to
him that they might try to take their money and escape.

Ingrid ordered chicken enchiladas in
green sauce and two house margaritas while Gene enjoyed a juicy
buffalo burger and drank down two beers chosen from a list as long
as Ingrid's arm. A solo acoustic guitarist played romantic Latin
music in the corner by the fireplace.

"I see why you like it here. Nice
place to bring a date."

"You picked a hot disguise. Every male
in the joint has his eyes on you." When she'd morphed, she'd chosen
one of her favorite looks, a redhead with bright blue eyes and long
slender limbs. The short summery dress and spiky heels showed her
legs off to perfection. "You look lovely, although I'm never sure
if that's a proper thing to say to a female in disguise. You might
take it as a negative comparison."

She giggled. "It's a compliment to my
morphing skills."

"A female of many talents." The
comment hung in the air for a few seconds, but Gene didn't
elaborate and Ingrid didn’t ask.

Trying to avoid the subject of their
imminent rebooting session for as long as possible, Ingrid
maneuvered the conversation from favorite movies, music and books
to anecdotes about her life in the various troupes she'd worked
with.

"The Hudson River Troupe will be my
last."

Gene's eyes widened for a moment, then
narrowed as he leaned close and whispered. "Sounds like you're
thinking of getting out of the business." She stopped chewing.
"Nothing to say?” She stayed silent, kicking herself for letting
anything slip. She wasn’t ready for a confrontation.

Gene scanned the check with his H-tab
and left cash for the server, clasping her hand a little too
firmly. "Time to leave."

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

Rem shifted from foot to foot, his
highly charged body not designed for standing still. Wearing only
loose fitting pants, his yellowed skin tone shone under the
skylight, a glistening mass of scars and bruises. Rem and his
brother, Zarek, were two of the Director’s favorites.

“Your report?” The Director was
resting in the hot tub, a massive indoor spa designed to fit five
humans comfortably, but only one archdemon in true form. He was
over seven feet tall, leanly muscled, his skin unblemished and
glowing with health. His blonde locks hung to his shoulders, his
teal eyes glittering with intelligence. His wings were unfurled
behind him, beautifully shaded in golds and reds.

He allowed no one but his top generals
to see him in this form. They were immune to his magnetism and
would not be absorbed. In his rough form, he could travel the world
without incident if he so chose, but like this, he would kill each
living creature who glanced his way, even the animals.

No, this form he saved for the End of
Days. He’d lost count of the worlds he’d demolished.

“The rebel scum have been busy, sir.
They led an attack with another group of human field workers on the
Flatbush Wolf Pack last night, killing all but three. The alpha
survived. We captured two of the street criminals. Unfortunately, a
few farm workers escaped.

“Did they give a reason for the
attack?

“Some crap about their children being
killed and their childcare females raped while the men and other
women were working in the fields.”

“Is this true?”

“Yeah, the alpha admitted it. They
were high and horny.” The demon chuckled, his bright red hair
braided and brushing the floor. His generals also had wings, but
they were not able to absorb the energy of other races—forced to
rely on him alone for their survival.

“You and your lieutenants may have the
humans. We’ll send their remains back as a warning for other humans
not to blindly follow the rebels.

“What about the wolf pack?”

“Inform Joseph Herron that he must
control his packs. I can’t lose farm laborers because his ruffians
decide to take drugs.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want you and your brother Zarek to
lead the hunt against these disorganized rebel groups. Their
activities are a hindrance to my fiscal plans.”

“Yes, Director. We will hunt tonight
and every night.” Rem bowed, his long braid moving of its own
accord to wrap around his waist.

“Excellent. You have done well, Rem,
but I expect to have further information on the rebels within the
fortnight.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you please me, you will be
rewarded. What do you desire?”

He didn’t hesitate for a moment. “The
female theta. Ingrid Hudson.”

The Director chuckled. “Get in line.
Why of all things do you wish to play with her?”

“I wish to break a formidable enemy,
to find out the depths of her magic. You do not permit me to attack
the alpha wolves and master vampires, or the fae who keep to their
secret sidhes because some of them are your allies. But the theta’s
full powers are unknown. I would sharpen my skills on her flesh. I
would taste her fear and drink down her blood. I would discover the
truth of her body and her soul.”

“If she displeases me again, I might
consider it, although there are others whose needs must be met
first. I could reward you with the Mystic Ingrid. She is also
lovely.”

“Yes, she is, lord. You have given her
to my brother demons in the past.”

“You wish to experience a theta
untouched by demonkind?”

“Yes, lord.”

“Ingrid Hudson is mine to
destroy.”

Rem hesitated. To be allowed to kill
one’s enemy was the greatest of gifts, but The Director was
correct. Rem did not deserve this. He was still young and had not
earned such a reward. Perhaps he might earn the privilege if he
stopped the small groups of rebels causing trouble in Brooklyn and
Queens.

He would hunt tonight.

He knelt on the floor, sitting back
and extending his hands. “Thank you, Lord Jorint. I pledge to you
again, my life and my soul.”

“Join me, Rem.”

Rem glowed with happiness as he sank
into the water and moved to do his lord’s bidding.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

Gene seemed to be stewing over her
last remark. She tried to get his mind back on track. "Thank you
for Johnny's dinner.” She hooked her arm around his elbow, which he
accepted without comment. "And
my
dinner. It was delicious." She smiled, hoping to
lighten his mood, but Gene's sour expression seemed glued in
place.

He walked slowly, staring straight
ahead. "Will Mack be joining us back at the house?" he
asked.

She stopped dead in her tracks.
"What?"

"You two have something planned,
right? He was the elephant in the room the entire evening. I almost
ordered him a couple of tacos."

She stationed her hands on her hips.
"I didn't think of him once."

"Pfft."

“When did I have time?” We had Johnny
to deal with and dinner to eat and…”

“When you lie you talk
faster.”

She started walking again, faster than
before. Gene caught up easily. “Okay. Maybe I thought about him
three times. You're not jealous are you?"

He laughed. "When you two are in the
same room, you suck up all the air. It's entertaining to watch you
fight the urge to be together. Alan, Sam, Diane, and I are taking
bets on the date, time, and place."

"That we kiss?"

"Please, you must have kissed already.
I’m talking about sex." That brought on a rare blush, which amused
Gene even more. "If there's such a thing as destiny, you two are
meant to be." He shook his head. "No, I'm not jealous—just
envious."

“I got dumped.”

“Mack’s a fucking idiot.” Under the
gentle haze of the streetlight, his expression grew serious. "I'm
sorry about—well, later. It isn’t right. If we didn’t have to
project or use our energy, we wouldn’t have to reboot.”

“We can talk about that later. Let’s
try to enjoy the night.”

“I'm your partner. When are you going
to start trusting me?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Besides what happened in Atlanta, how
about what your experiments with power are really all
about?"

"I’m afraid you’ll…”

“What, report you? C’mon, you don’t
trust me yet?”

“No, no. I do trust you. I’m afraid
you’ll say no.”

"I learned early on that when my
Ingrid and I were honest with each other, everything else was
easier. I want it to be easy for us too."

"She must've been a great
partner."

"She was a great person. Her skills as
an ingénue were weak compared to yours, but the rest of us picked
up the slack. She was part of our family, like you'll be, if you
stop hiding from us."

"I don't hide," she said
indignantly.

"You’re like the troll under the
bridge, only popping up to make trouble. You've probably got
secrets piled on top of secrets. Must be getting heavy."

"It's how I've survived."

They walked through the entrance to
Snug Harbor without speaking; Gene's thumb brushing back and forth
over her knuckles. The sensation was a pleasant one, but the
attraction was only a vague possibility, the usual thing between
ingénue partners who had no choices.

Rich, one of the rangers, drove past
in his shuttle cart, giving them a friendly wave. It was almost
dark now.

"Doesn't this place close down at
dusk?" She'd seen the sign posted outside the gate.

"Yeah, but Rich and Artie let us run
around at night if we can't sleep. We're isolated here, away from
the cameras and the crowds so we don't have to morph. It's become
our nighttime haven.” He dropped the morph and sighed from the
release of energy. "Go ahead. No one's around but the
rangers."

She did as he said, scanning the area.
"Such a strange place. Spooky."

The two hundred and fifty year old
Music Hall loomed to their right, a tribute to the era of Greek
revival architecture and art deco interiors. Decades of musical
plays and concert performances were now only distant memories for
the ghostly fans to enjoy at their leisure. Across from the austere
building was the chapel dedicated to the veterans of ancient wars,
an enormous bell standing in memoriam alongside the
entrance.

Gene urged her up the steps and
through the dimly lit space to a pew not far from the tiny stage. A
gentle push had her sitting.

"We can talk here. No cameras. No
hidden microphones. I give you my word that anything you tell me is
only between us."

She stayed silent, still
unsure.

Gene tried again. "Forget about
Atlanta. You can tell me when you're ready. Right now I need to
know what game you're playing with your axis powers."

"It's no game," she snapped
back.

"But what are you trying to accomplish
with the experiments? I know it isn't for The Director's
benefit."