Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (7 page)

Her whole room smelled pleasantly of
Gene, but as she drifted off, her thoughts turned once more to Mack
and the amazing link they'd shared for an instant. There'd been
nothing like it with anyone before Mack, and she knew it was
somehow important, if only her brain could put the pieces
together.

In that small flash of connection,
she’d seen his loneliness and his strong desire to protect the
people he cared for—not anything she’d ever expect a Mack to
feel.

Ingrid yawned and curled her body more
tightly, slipping a hand under the large pillow. Later she'd figure
it out. Later.

CHAPTER SIX

After ending the call with Mack Harbor, The Director downed
two quick shots of single malt, smirking in the direction of his
guest. "She's arrived safely."

Joseph Herron, the top alpha of the
four largest New York area packlands, sipped his scotch at a slower
rate, savoring the exquisite flavor and heat as it traveled across
his tongue and down his throat. "That boy's in for it. Mack Harbor
will never be able to control that bitch."

"You're wrong. The Harbor Troupe is
under Mack's thumb and Mack's ass is under mine. His actors are
breaking records at the box office. You'd be mistaken if you
believe it's only because of the troupe actors’ gifts."

"We'll see soon enough. I'll be at the
show on Wednesday." Visitors were not allowed to sit in the
Director’s presence unless invited, so Joseph had made his way to
the open door leading to a terrace large enough to fit a group of
ten comfortably. The Director kept his penthouse office hot, so hot
Joseph practically slid out the door when he left after every
meeting.

"Ingrid will toe the line or I'll—,"
he took a deep breath, considering how to continue, "—release her
from her contract and sell her. My brother’s had his eye on her for
ten years. It'll cost me in ticket sales, but I've been too
lenient."

“Where’s your brother’s
territory?”

“Great Britain.
Scandinavia.”

Joseph nodded. “Mostly surrounded by
salt water. More defensible.”

“Yes. Well, he doesn’t have the same
gifts or the same competitive nature.” The Director had made sure
to cordon off his territory the moment he’d chosen it. Walls of
smokeless flame and mile-wide moats of lava worked fairly well to
keep out usurpers. The eastern half of what was once the United
States of America, from Minnesota to Louisiana, moving east to the
coastline was his, and had been for over one hundred and fifty
years.

The other half of the
former
greatest nation on earth
had been left to fend for itself. With
supernatural species warring with each other like street gangs, he
was fairly certain the human population that had occupied the
western territories had died out.

Joseph leaned against a wall, acting a
little too comfortable. The Director preferred to have his thugs at
attention in his presence.

"I'll pay you to take Ingrid off your
hands. I know how to tame a female and shut up that smart mouth
fast. Or I could kill her for you, after I have a little
fun.”

"I'm not interested in her demise, at
least, not yet. We can talk when my brother’s finished with her, if
you're still interested."

"She's dangerous. Can't you see
that?"

The archdemon stood slowly, towering
over the six-foot-four inch alpha by more than a foot. "She's
nothing. A theta. Even less than an alpha dog like you."

Joseph was smart enough to bow his
head. "I apologize if I've offended you, however I feel it's my job
as an ally to warn you.” He faced the archdemon once more. “Thetas
have psychic powers strong enough to link to the mind of any
supernatural in the country. How long will it be before they
realize they can do more?"

"They've been controlled since their
earliest days. None have mishandled their powers nor attempted to
rebel against me." The wolf was beginning to annoy him. Perhaps
some obedience training was in order. He used his body to raise the
heat in the room.

Joseph’s forehead glistened with sweat
almost immediately. "Abuse by PM’s and APM’s against their own
troupe members has grown rampant. Rebellions are born in that
soil."

"There is no reason to
worry."

"I disagree." Joseph was pulling at
the collar of his shirt, unbuttoning the cuffs and rolling them up.
Soon he’d be asking for a glass of water.

"Are your shields so weak,
Joseph?"

He rubbed his forehead with his
sleeve. "We masters and alphas lower our shields like gentle lambs
at every performance, all for the sake of our pleasure. They've
learned the essence of our minds as they manipulate what we
imagine. None of us truly understands how their powers work. They
should be disbanded, studied and …"

"You're dismissed, Joseph."

"Sir." The alpha wolf turned to leave
without argument. He was intelligent in that way. Plus he was
thirsty, poor dog.

"Wait. You will not discuss this
theory with anyone else, do you understand?" The Director watched
the wolf’s face, checking for signs of deception. "Yes, sir."
Joseph bowed and exited through the main door.

The archdemon settled himself more
comfortably in his large chair, enjoying another scotch. His
visitors thought the chair was made of leather, but the material
he’d crafted into a seat had once belonged to a creature fifty
times the size of a bull and twenty times more vicious. The species
no longer roamed the earth, but this particular beast had given him
a battle to remember, entertaining him with its fury. He’d honored
it with the use of its hide, despite it being mostly his ass that
benefited.

Without need for device, The Director
called to his brother, Susa, their souls linked when first created.
An image appeared before him, as tall as he was, yet less broad.
His brother was bald, his scalp tattooed with designs that held
great power when called into use.

Susa's voice was merely a whisper,
unlike The Director's deep rumble. "You continue on,
Jorint?"

"As Aether requires," he replied in
the traditional manner. “I received your message yesterday. Why do
you bother me?”

"I have news regarding our sisters."
Susa lowered himself into the smaller, more traditional leather
chair reserved for guests.

"I have no interest in those bitches."
The Director opened the beautifully carved box placed on the far
corner of his large desk, pulling out a cigar. He clipped the end
with his claws, lighting it quickly, then extinguishing and
retracting the talons. His brother knew what he was capable of, no
need to play with the flames. Most species had no idea of his true
form. He intended to keep it that way.

"Why, because they bested you in your
last interaction?" Susa's aura had turned purple with
humor.

"Their methods are vulgar." He puffed
on the Cuban cheroot, smoke billowing around his head.

"You think yours are not?" Susa asked,
sliding the ashtray closer to his brother and calling up a small
breeze to blow the smoke out the open window.

Jorint paid no attention. "I rule a
large portion of the modern world without resorting to ritual
sacrifice."

"I seem to recall that only recently,
you turned an entire theatre full of sorcerers and witches to
ash."

The Director's skin vibrated with lust
as he recalled the way his most powerful Ingrid had stood defiant
in the midst of the carnage. "A mistake was made by a most valuable
asset. I did what was necessary. I always weigh the outcome, before
I act."

"Unlike Lumexe and Wiklyn?"

"Our sisters have already wiped out
the human populations of several African nations. If they continue
in this way, the eastern hemisphere will soon be a wasteland.
Vampires will die out from lack of blood, wolves from attrition.
Our soldiers will suffer without their distractions. An unhappy
army breeds trouble."

"Give me the female and I will deal
with our sisters. You owe me from the last encounter,
Jorint."

"You can handle the two alone?" He
didn’t bother to hide his skepticism.

"You think not?"

"You are gifted, it’s true, but the
point is moot. My female continues to entertain. I will keep her
for now."

"Unless you agree to help me, the
sisters will continue to ravage the earth."

"You just told me you would take care
of them.”

“In exchange for the female theta.”
Susa banged his fist on the arm of the chair, adding a breeze that
knocked the papers on his brother’s desk onto the floor.

Jorint shook his head. Although he was
centuries older, it appeared Susa still had a childish streak. “You
should have beaten some sense into the twins long ago, you being
the elder sibling. I cannot take the time nor expend the energy. My
work is more important."

"You think yourself superior to our
sisters, yet your spectacles involving live executions and weeklong
battles between the species you call allies are every bit as
destructive as their rituals."

"I disagree. My scheduled competitions
keep the violence between species in a controlled environment and
off my streets. Theta performances sweeten their audience's baser
natures and keep endorphins buzzing for weeks. Where riots are the
normality in your part of the world, my methods keep me in control
and my supernatural population healthy and happy."

"The executions are gruesome
spectacles."

"None of the beings I rule, human or
supernatural, must forget that I am their master. The gruesome
spectacles, as you call them, serve their purpose."

"I am appalled you find this to be an
acceptable method of governing."

"Then blow off, brother." Together
they smirked at the pun. Susa controlled air and wind, as Jorint
had mastery over fire. "I leave the job of governing to others,
allowing them to imagine they have real power. It amuses me. Most
of Earth’s society is manipulated by its media, and I control
it.”

"As I also control mine in my
territory. It is necessary. Yet you must show some degree of mercy.
You are breeding rebellion with your cruelty.”

The Director, walked to the balcony
that overlooked Central Park, an area he’d gifted to the Midtown
Pack, one of those controlled by Joseph Herron. He required instant
obedience in return, no matter what was demanded of the wolves that
made the city their home. "I cannot see why you object to the
executions. Most of my supernatural citizens demand these
spectacles. The events sell out in minutes and are watched by
millions."

"You rise in power on the backs of the
innocent," his brother wheezed.

The sound wasn't an indication of any
illness, only of great emotion. "You're no fucking archangel, Susa.
The destruction you've caused is equal to mine." The room was
heating up again.

"I destroy the bringers of evil," his
brother insisted. It was an ancient argument between
them.

This time Jorint laughed. "What a load
of crap. You destroy the evil creatures that happen to disagree
with your methods.”

Susa ignored his younger brother’s
comment, instead lifting his head to sniff the air. “Can you sense
the moisture in the air? Our sisters have been busy. Floods and
famine will follow soon. Lumex will bring a torrent to bear if you
anger her again. Wiklyn will cause tremors and landslides.” His
sisters were masters at manipulating water and earth. “We will lose
the game.”

"Those bitches are too busy trying to
control their own subjects, to bother us."

"Yes. Perhaps, but..."

"I never lose the game, as you well
know, Susa. Not in thousands of millennia.”

“
You’ve been blessed with
fortune,” his brother grumbled.

“Ha. I’ve been smarter than you three,
and continue to be. Perhaps I might offer you a gift. Watch the
next execution from my private box. I've hired Sun Yow as torturer.
He had a cancellation."

Susa scowled. "No, thank
you."

The air had grown chilly, even though
The Director's fiery energy usually kept it near 100 degrees
Fahrenheit. “Then leave me, brother.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ingrid's first full day with her new troupe was ridiculous on
so many levels.

When Ingrid made it downstairs for
breakfast, Diane, the female diva of the troupe, was already at the
table eating and scanning the news on her H-tab. She looked up from
her emagazine and smiled, but the expression didn't seem genuine.
Divas started out as ingénues, like Ingrid and Gene, then, after
reaching a certain age, moved into the troupe's diva slot. A new
Ingrid joining the troupe was another reminder they were aging.
Some took it better than others did.

Ingrid smiled back, hoping to get off
on better footing this first full day. "Good morning, I'm Ingrid."
Totally unnecessary, but first days were always awkward. She should
know.

"Mmm." Diane sent her a weak wave, but
didn't look up from her meal of cereal and yogurt.