Primal Instincts (19 page)

“Excuse me,” she said to Crowe. “May I have a word?”

Always the perfect gentleman, Tony Crowe switched his complete concentration to her. “Forgive me, Lady Francesca. What can I do for you?”

Only now that she had Tony’s attention did she notice what he was wearing. “Why are you in a pink bathrobe?”

This time the feminine laugh from the room was more raucous.

“It’s a long story, Lady Francesca.”

“I’d love to hear it. May I come in?”

She stepped closer, but Tony didn’t budge from blocking the doorway. “Rose really does need her rest, Lady, and—”

“Let the girl in, Anthony,” Rose Cameron called. “I wouldn’t mind having some company.”

He gave Rose a crestfallen look. “But you have me.”

“And I will love you forever—because you are a gallant gentleman,” the woman added pointedly.

At this, Tony stepped out of her way and gestured for Francesca to enter. “Stay where you are,” he told Tobias, and closed the door in Strahan’s face.

Unlike the high-security rooms in the clinic,
which were set up for violent and dangerously sick vampires, this was more of a guest room. The walls were a pale blue, and the furniture was of light wood. There was a floral rug by the double bed and there were pictures on the walls. A sliding glass door opened onto a small patio, with a view of the clinic’s grounds beyond. A huge vase of red roses on a chest brought vibrant color and scent to the room. Francesca instantly thought of it as a honeymoon suite, and almost as instantly wondered what it would be like to have time alone with Tobias in a room like this.

Focus
, she told herself.

“The Dark Angels really could use your help,” Francesca told Tony before she turned to Rose. “And so could the clinic staff.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. He couldn’t resist a female’s request. He grabbed up some clothes off a chair and left the room.

“There’s always a lot of coming and going around here,” Rose Cameron said, and Francesca finally turned toward where the mortal woman sat on the edge of the bed, a sheet decorously wrapped around her body. “Welcome. Flare, isn’t it? I saw you during all the commotion yesterday. How’s your friend Sid doing?”

“Fine. She’s werewolf hunting at the moment.” Francesca stared intently at the mortal, feeling
that she’d somehow walked back into the past.

Francesca had seen Rose during the meeting at the Shagal Citadel, but only now did the identity of this red-haired, freckled, beautiful young woman finally sink in. “You really
are
Rose Cameron.”

Rose gave a smile made famous in many old films. “You’re a vampire. I’m only a movie star. Which one of us should be more surprised about the other?”

“But you’re—”

“Old. Yes, I know. I suppose that’s what you’re here to talk to me about.” She pointed to a chair near the bed.

The woman seemed calm yet radiated nervousness.

“I’m sorry,” Francesca said as she sat. “Talking about what happened to you will be painful for you, I know, but I’ve been asked to find out what you recall about the people who experimented on you.”

Rose flinched. “I’ve already told Anthony everything I know.”

“That’s very good, but what about the things you remember rather than know?”

Rose looked confused for a moment, then Francesca’s meaning sank in.

“I’ve told Anthony about the last few days, when I knew I was being experimented on, but
this has been going on for a long time—at least a year.” She shook her head. “I have been so screwed with.”

“You have,” Francesca said in agreement. “But why you?”

“That one I know. Gregor explained that I was chosen because of my connection with Anthony. My blood was already somewhat changed, and I think they knew Anthony would someday taste me again. They used that as a catalyst. And we turned out to be a pair of romantic fools who did exactly what Gregor thought we’d do.”

The woman’s tone spoke volumes about this Gregor.

“Gregor’s a Tribe Prime?”

“Oh, yes. He took a great deal of pleasure in telling me that. He told me all about the Tribes’ evil experiments on me with all the relish of a bad movie villain. Anthony and I think—but you want me to start at the beginning, don’t you?”

Francesca leaned forward in her chair. “I could telepathically—”

“Hell, no!” Rose scuttled away to the end of the bed, radiating anger and fear. “Nobody but Anthony gets inside my head. I’ve been mind-wiped by that bastard Gregor a few times, and it isn’t happening again.”

Francesca was furious on the woman’s behalf.
“I do not like this Gregor.” She folded her hands in her lap and tried to look as harmless as she was sympathetic. “Just talk about what happened to you, Rose. You never know what will be a useful detail for tracking these monsters down.”

Rose looked out the patio door. “It’s only the middle of the afternoon, but it’s already getting dark. I hate how the sun goes down so early in December, don’t you? No, you wouldn’t mind, since you’re a vampire. Anthony and I met in December—a long time ago.” Rose looked back at Francesca. “Maybe not so long ago for your people, but a lifetime for me. Now I’m trying to fight the urge to be grateful to the ones who used me as a guinea pig in a rejuvenation experiment because they’ve given me back time. It looks like we’re going to have the happily-ever-after Anthony’s Matri denied us after the war.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Rose said, noticing some small reaction from Francesca. She moved closer and put her hand on Francesca’s clenched fist. “Your Matri’s giving you grief about something too, isn’t she? Is it something to do with that Prime Anthony wouldn’t let in?”

“No—and yes.” Francesca looked away until she had the urge to spill her guts to this mortal woman under control. Rose looked young, but
her air of experience reminded Francesca that Rose was well into her eighties. Rose also had the kind of presence that invited confidences.

“Let’s get back to you,” Francesca said to Rose.

“Anthony and I were lovers long enough for a bond to begin forming. I returned to the States in early 1945 and waited for him to come home from the war. I didn’t see him again until a few days ago. Oh, we kept track of each other, secretly, but never met face-to-face.

“Eventually I moved into a retirement facility. I was still fairly healthy when I moved in and I enjoyed the place for the first couple of years. Then the management changed, and soon after the new guy took over I began to get ill. Except I wasn’t sick: they were feeding me drugs to alter the chemicals in my blood, to bring out whatever it is that keeps vampires from aging. It hurt like hell,” she added. “The pain got worse and worse for nearly a year. All because somehow the bad guys found out about Anthony and me and tried to ruin everything we shared for what was in my blood.”

“Bondmates shouldn’t be separated,” Francesca said, knowing it was hypocrisy because she planned on leaving Tobias before things between them could get any worse.

Better.

More complicated, at least.

Rose gave her a worried look. “Anthony and I loved each other our entire lives and look what happened when we weren’t allowed to be together.”

“Your bitterness is understandable.”

Rose touched Francesca’s hand again. “Don’t let that happen to you.”

“I won’t.”

Francesca realized how sentimental this moment was and concentrated on the job. Besides, she’d been bitter for a long time; it was scary to be getting over it now. Disappointment was easier to live with than hope.

“Gregor gave you drugs for a year?” Francesca asked.

“Well, he wasn’t the only one involved, was he? I think the entire staff at the home was involved—complicit, at least.”

“Do you think they might have been telepathically tampered with?”

“I know I was. When I recognized that Gregor was a Prime, he told me that I’d realized it before and he’d made me forget. And he wasn’t the only Prime in the place. Gregor told me he was leaving California, but that doesn’t mean that the other one—”

“Other one?” This had to be important. “Who was he? What do you remember about him?”

Rose sneered. “Big blond guy. Called himself Dr. Stone. Gregor thought he was an arrogant idiot.” She scratched her head. “Where did that memory come from?”

“What else?” Francesca said urgently.

“Dr. Stone was in charge of the staff. He—No, wait, I have an idea.” Rose got off the bed, adjusted her sheet, and went to throw open the bedroom door. “Anthony, could you come back in here, please?” she called psychically and vocally.

“Why can’t you leave Rose alone?” Tony Crowe’s question came out muffled as he pulled a black T-shirt over his head. He glared at Tobias when his head emerged. “She’s been through enough.”

“She has,” Tobias said in agreement. He waited until Crowe had finished dressing before he went on. “I’m trying to prevent the torture happening to her again—and to anyone else.”

Crowe’s eyes blazed with fury. Protectiveness radiated from him. “What do you mean ‘again’? Gregor told her she’d served her purpose.”

“And you believe him?”

Crowe considered that for a moment. “The
bastard laid out a whole scenario to Rose. Maybe some of it—maybe all of it—was to cover his own ass in case she was rescued.”

“Do you think it’s over because you rescued her?” Tobias asked. “This Gregor might even have thought he was telling the truth, but I don’t buy it. She was a valuable experiment to them. They’ll try to get her back.”

“We took out everyone in the place where they were holding her prisoner.”

“But more of the enemy is still out there.”

Crowe gave a grim nod. “I don’t want to think about it, but you’re right.” Once Crowe finished dressing, he and Tobias walked back down the hallway. “Where are we going?”

“Your office.”

“Why?”

“It’ll be more official if you call people in there.”

“Who am I calling into my office? Do you really need me for anything?” Crowe asked him. “Or is this a diversion for Rose’s sake? A diversion so Flare can question my Rose, I should say. Thanks for using her instead of my Sid,” he added.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me or any other Prime talk to her, and it needs to be done.”

“I’ll kill anyone, including Flare, if they mess with my woman’s head.”

“Ah, but if you felt the need to harm Francesca I would feel compelled to rip your head off,” Tobias answered.

Both Primes knew that the other wasn’t joking.

Crowe chuckled. “And you wouldn’t be doing it to keep a gentle female from harm.”

“She’s not gentle, and I’m not a Clan boy,” Tobias pointed out.

“It’s better to leave chivalry to the professionals,” the Clan Prime said in agreement. Crowe gave Tobias a speculative look, and Tobias knew what was coming. “You and Flare are bonding, eh? Who’d have thought it?”

“Her mother,” Tobias growled.

“You’re glowing with bonding energy, son. That can’t be good for your concentration.”

Tobias eagerly grabbed at the opening. “That’s one of the reasons I need your help interviewing all mortals on the staff. One of them planted a bomb in Francesca’s purse two days ago and she unknowingly brought it into the Citadel. She could have been killed.” The thought of it made his blood run cold. He would have the one who’d done it.

Crowe came to an abrupt halt. “Someone
planted a bomb on Flare? Here at the clinic?”

“Someone set a bomb
at
the clinic that went off,” Tobias reminded him. “There’s a conspiracy to open up our world to the outside. You know what will happen when that happens.”

“Yeah. You believe there’s a spy at the clinic.”

“A traitor.”

“Not among my people,” Crowe said. “I don’t like it that you want me to telepathically interrogate everyone who works here for you.”

“I’m not asking you to be happy about it, Crowe, but it needs to be done.”

Crowe was furious. “I’ve already vetted everyone who works here. If they want the job they have to let me into their heads. Our people are all loyal.”

“People change. Have you gotten into anyone’s head lately?”

“Anthony, could you come back in here, please?”

Speaking of getting into anyone’s head, they heard Rose Cameron’s voice telepathically as well as faintly audibly from down the hall.

“She’s getting better at communicating,” Crowe said with pride and relief. He headed back toward Rose’s room.

You better come too.
This time the telepathic voice was Francesca’s.

I hear and obey.
He followed Crowe.

Rose had put on a silk broomstick skirt and tunic and now sat on a chair in the middle of the room, the center of attention. She seemed to be the most relaxed person in the room, but she had been an actress for a long time. She was used to audiences.

Anthony Crowe stood behind Rose, his hands protectively on her shoulders. Francesca sat beside Tobias on the bed. They watched the other couple, and Francesca noticed when her fingers twined with Tobias’s.

She sighed but made no effort to pull away. This touch was only a small comfort, as much for him as for her.

If we give in to the little things . . .
, Tobias thought.