Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (40 page)

Ingrid guided his hand slowly past her
belly to rest above the apex of her thighs. "This is yours, too, so
you'd better keep that big boy in your pants unless we're together.
I don't share either."

His laugh was soft. "You're going all
possessive on me?" His hand crept under her shirt, gently stoking
the breast the Director had bruised so badly.

"Yeah," she gasped. "What're you gonna
do about it?"

“At the risk of pissing you off, I
think we should sleep. You had a tough night and there’s so much at
stake. You’re still looking pale, and I know if you close your
eyes, you’ll pass right out.”

She smiled and snuggled closer.
“Sometimes I think hooking up with a practical production manager
was the smartest thing I ever did.”

"I'll do everything in my power to
keep you safe, and when this is over, we'll find a house to share.”
He kissed her sweetly then, their mouths and tongues dancing a
romantic slow dance together. "We’ll cook dinner together and then
I'll fuck you senseless."

Her giggle turned into a yawn. "You're
such a guy. You know, there's more to a relationship than food and
sex."

"Well, those are the top
two."

"Dinner comes first?" She stroked his
chest and abs with her open palm, exploring the flat plains and
valleys of his gorgeous body.

"Dinner in bed?" He touched her nose
teasingly. "It won't be perfect. You're a handful."

"Pot-Kettle. You can be a royal pain
in the ass, too."

“Will you forgive my asinine behavior,
if I tell you you’re incredibly beautiful, extremely intelligent
and delightfully funny?”

Ingrid bit his lip, pulling on it and
then letting it go so she could whisper into his mouth. “What
happened to unfuckingbelievable?”

He grinned. "You liked that, did
you?"

"Uh huh.”

This time, his smile took possession
of his whole face, his eyes sparkling brightly and crinkling up at
the corners. Ingrid placed that smile in the top five things she
loved about her mate, because he was her mate, whether they’d said
the words or not.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN

The eight former members of the
Hudson River Troupe were sitting at two picnic tables eating the
simple breakfast of microwave pancakes and canned fruit salad that
Tom had prepared. Fortunately for all, there was fresh-brewed
coffee available, otherwise several of the troupe members would
only have been able to communicate in single syllables.

None of them was used to getting up at
eight a.m.

The three street thetas were perched
on top of a separate table, their expressions wary once more. They
reminded Mack of a trio of down-and-out superheroes waiting for
their call to action: tons of potential, but no one to tell them
who to save.

Ingrid, Mack and Gene sat together at
one table, Ingrid between them. She leaned against Mack’s shoulder,
a constant reminder of the lovely night they’d shared wrapped in
each other’s arms. Gene sat slightly apart, his keen gaze glued to
Liz and the others as he quietly ate his breakfast.

Johnny was speaking. "Your H-tabs have
been destroyed, but we’ll do our best to getcha new ones encoded
with the latest security. Sometimes we have to resort to stealin’,
but only from The Director’s people. We'll also need to come up
with some false IDs. All of this will take time and money. Until
then, I’m afraid you’re stuck here.”

It was obvious they needed more from
Mack’s people than training, especially now that they had the
specifics of how much money the theta troupe had in their accounts.
Running a revolution was an expensive proposition.

Dave, Diane, Staci, Sam and Alan were
at the table next to Mack’s, all of them looking as wary as the
three rebels. Dave took a swallow of coffee and cleared his throat,
standing as if he was giving a report in front of a class. "We
appreciate what you've done for Ingrid. Joseph Herron is a monster.
But Di and I were wondering if there was any hope of us getting
back into a troupe. It's really all that we know." For the first
time, Mack noticed the redness in Diane’s eyes as well as her
slightly panicked expression.

Johnny jumped down from the table,
sitting across from Diane so he could speak directly to her. He
took her hand, a compassionate gesture that surprised Mack, and
completely dropped his rougher accent. "I'm sorry, but no. I won’t
lie to you. When you agreed to follow us here and not return to the
house, you basically signed your past away. You don't have to stay
here with us, we’d never force you to do so, but you'll never be a
troupe theta again."

Diane buried her face against Dave's
chest, clutching his shirt, her sobs the only sound in the room.
Staci scooted over and rubbed Diane’s back, telling her it would be
okay, that they were free now and she shouldn’t worry.

Liz explained further, her voice much
gentler than it had been the night before. "Try to understand. What
we did wasn't only for Ingrid. Thetas are exterminated when they
retire from a troupe. Your natural life span is around one hundred
and fifty years. The Director cuts your life in half."

“But we have no other
skills. We'll end up on the street. We'll be
taken.
" Diane wiped away another few
tears with a tissue Dave had produced from a nearby box. “We’ll be
separated.”

Every theta had heard the horrifying
stories of how master vamps, alpha wolves, and master sorcerers
used thetas who’d been discarded from the institutes. Forcing a
theta to project a fantasy was possible but difficult; however, the
theta wouldn't last long in that state. Rebooting would be
impossible and he or she would grow too weak to project. They’d be
used for their blood or bodies, eventually let loose on the street
and left to the mercies of the masses.

Johnny leaned forward, speaking
quietly. "You and Dave have investments and savings. You'll never
want for anything important. If you don't choose to work with us,
we'll drive you to a safe house outside the city. You'd pay a small
amount for room and board, but you and Dave can stay there safely
for as long as you need to. Or move on. We can help you wherever
you decide to go. However, if you choose this option, you can never
return.

"If you choose to stay, there's work
you can do for us, right here. We need teachers desperately. We
don't even know if we have the gift of psycore or if we can learn
to use it if we do." Johnny shrugged, looking a little despondent.
"We've trained ourselves to fight with weapons and muscles, using
our axis energy whenever we can. But because we're still weaker
physically than most of our enemies, we desperately need to reach
our top potential. I’m sure we’re nowhere near as strong as we
could be.”

Tom continued. "We morph easily and
Johnny can force a change on someone else, but we can't morph into
a different sex like you can. That would be a definite advantage
when we're too far away to get to a safe house and need to hide
out. Morphing is useful as a defensive strategy, but even Johnny's
talent doesn't help us out in a fight."

Gene spoke up. "Unless you
force a change on your enemy, getting him killed by his own
people." The three rebels looked at Gene as if they were seeing him
for the first time. "If you'd forced Joseph Herron to look like
Ingrid, his men would’ve thought it was her. It would’ve caused
confusion among their people, which might have worked to our
advantage. They might even have killed him, thinking
she
killed their
boss."

Mack laughed. "Shit. I think that
might’ve worked." Gene beamed at Mack, glancing at Liz a moment
later to ask another question. "Besides The Director's soldiers,
who are you usually fighting?"

"Street thugs. Lower-level
wolves and sorcerers who travel the neighborhoods in packs or
gangs. Sometimes a nest will grow restless and hit the streets
looking for fresh blood—mostly from teenagers. See, no one knows
we're
thetas
."
She’d made a face, trying out the word on herself for the first
time. "They think we're human when they see us, so the bullies and
the gangs treat us like weaklings. When we turn the tables, we
shock the shit outta them every time.” She smirked, obviously proud
of the work she was doing.

Tom had started to clear away dishes.
He explained, “But we do get hurt and we don't heal like you do.
That's a real problem for us, since we're out there fighting for
our lives most days."

Sam jumped up to help Tom, asking
Johnny, "Aren't we born with faster healing abilities?" "Isn't it
related to axis power?"

"We heal faster than humans, but you
guys heal like master vamps," Tom said.

"I wonder why that is…" Gene was
already pulling out his H-tab.

“Where did you get that? You have to
hand it over.” Liz had jumped down from her perch on the table,
already up in Gene’s face with her hand out.

“This is the top of the line,
mega-secure, encoded version. I have contacts that have
contacts.”

"Tom will have to check it out.” She
tried to snatch it away.

“No. He won’t. I think Tom trusts me,
right Tom?”

“Uh, sure, but it’s impossible to get
a secure connection here," Tom said, giving Gene’s H-tab a
decidedly lustful gaze.

“Either you follow our rules, or you
leave.” Liz was fuming.

“Liz…” Unlike his friend, Johnny
seemed willing to wait to see what Gene was going to do.

“I don’t think you’re going kick me
out so fast, especially if I can do this.” Gene gave Liz a smug
look, swiped his fingers across his tablet and… "Bingo."

"What the hell? We never get good
access." Tom peered over Gene's shoulder, his gaze
intent.

"The government has power
you can pull up anywhere. I know all the codes." Gene explained.
His eyebrows rose. “It says here that the fastest healing is tied
into the mind. It’s like using
Influence
on your own body. Guess
that’s the answer.”

"Are you feelin’ any more pain?"
Johnny asked Ingrid.

“Only a little around my
ribs.”

"It would take us at least three days
to heal badly bruised ribs.” Johnny said.

"
If
you stay with us, you'll need to
learn to use weapons." Liz’s tone was clipped. "We have access to a
firing range, so you'll have to work on your skills with a gun. We
also have a martial arts instructor to get you in
shape."

Gene laughed. "We're pretty
fit."

Liz narrowed her eyes and looked him
over with a snarky expression. "We'll see."

“He’s incredibly strong. I can vouch
for that,” Ingrid said with a grin.

“We’ll need to use you as a rover,”
Liz said, staring directly at Ingrid.

Ingrid shifted on the bench. "I agree
that The Director and his worst supporters need to die. Some of the
others too, but I’m not going to be used as your secret weapon
against the forces of evil. I’ll help you however I can, but
murder…"

Liz's expression was icy. "I didn't
take you for a hypocrite."

"What are you saying?" Ingrid's eyes
had darkened with anger.

Johnny glared at Liz and then spoke to
Ingrid in a soothing voice. "Maybe now would be a good time to tell
us all about what happened in Atlanta."

CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT

Ingrid fisted her hands. "I don't
have to tell you anything."

Johnny smiled, maybe trying to put her
at ease. "We're not judging you. We've only heard rumors. We'd like
to hear the story from you, what you remember." His voice was calm,
encouraging her to speak, but she was holding onto her anger with
every ounce of her energy. "We'd like to hear the
truth."

The fact was, she didn't completely
trust them, knowing instinctively that it would be stupid to do so
this soon. Of course, there was a sneaky way to find out what their
motives were.

Focusing her psycore, Ingrid sent a
tiny tendril of magic into Johnny's mind, finding only an honest
curiosity with no ulterior motives other than the hope that she’d
stay and teach this ragtag crew what she knew. He was passionate
about protecting his friends, his family, and his people. Ingrid
knew she could respect this male.

A cool, sweet wash of
power swept across her shoulders and neck, taking away some of the
tension. Mack snaked his arm around her waist, urging her to lean
against him as he spoke into her mind
. "I
think it'll be okay."

She huffed out a burst of air. "It
doesn’t really matter now, anyway." Ingrid stepped away from Mack
and perched her behind on an unoccupied table, mimicking the
position the rovers had taken earlier so that she could easily face
the group. The others settled down, anxious to hear her
story.

Wiping sweaty palms on the knees of
her jeans, she began. "My troupe was in the middle of a performance
for an audience of witches and sorcerers. Two rogue sorcerers
managed to put up a wall between the audience and us, then worked a
spell to make us lose consciousness. Our Mack freaked out and ran
out the back door, pulling his power in a rush. It hurt so much.”
She rubbed her belly unconsciously, remembering the
moment.