Warrior: The Elect, Book 3 (10 page)

“Don’t you forget it. Now, stop teasing me, baby.”

She pulled the top of his cock into her mouth this time and rolled her tongue over it before indulging him. She sucked while stroking his shaft and got lost in his taste and scent, in her power over him. He seemed to grow larger, harder, and she felt him losing control just as he jerked her away. He was panting when he pulled her to her feet.

“I wasn’t done,” she pointed out.

“Oh yes, you were.”

His eyes were blistering hot, demand stamped over the sharp features of his face. He picked her up. She followed the instructions in his mind, wrapped her legs around his hips, and felt the hard length of him pressing against her. He plunged inside her pussy—fast and confident—then walked to the wall, pushing her back against it.

There was nothing gentle about the way he took her. She was finally seeing him out of control, and she wasn’t sure what she’d unleashed. Not that she was complaining. She knew he’d never hurt her, and she was feeling the same thing—some primal obsession that demanded to be fed.

“The bond,” he gasped. His head was bent to her neck, lips close, the hint and promise of teeth driving her wild. “It’s the bond.”

Oh God, if it would always be like this, she doubted she’d survive. His mouth opened and she felt the graze of teeth. It was almost enough to make her come. His thrusts grew harder, faster, rougher. Scraped over flesh so sensitive she was about to combust. When he bit her, she did.

Carter felt her pussy clamp down on him as she was thrown into orgasm, and he tried to regain control. It was a lost cause. The need, the urgency, riding him wouldn’t settle for anything but complete joining. To claim and to surrender. To dominate and to submit. He felt torn in two. It was torture and ecstasy. So exquisite he was afraid the final culmination would leave him a broken, empty shell.

But there was no stopping it, no holding back. She continued to pulse around him, and a startled cry ripped from her throat as her first orgasm was followed directly by a second. And he was lost. His balls were painfully tight, not relieved at all when the first hot jets of come released into her. He held her hips tightly and hung on, watching her. Hoping like hell he wasn’t hurting her. She rolled her head against the wall, her eyes squeezed shut when her mouth parted for another cry she didn’t actually vocalize. That third, final orgasm made him give a dominant, primal cry as she milked him dry.

Somehow he found the strength to stagger to the bed and fall down with her. He barely remembered to roll to his side so he didn’t crush Jamie. He was lucky he knew what his name was. He gathered her close and shook in the aftermath. Marveled in it. He felt her so deep inside him he wasn’t sure where he ended and she started. He had no words to describe the joy—the sense of belonging to her just as completely as she did to him. It was incredible. It was mind-bending.

A long time later, she stirred, tilted her head back and gave him a tired yet replete smile.

“It keeps getting better,” he whispered.

“Much better and it’ll kill us.”

He grinned. “But what a way to go, right?”

They heard a young cry from the main room. Groaning, Carter rolled out of bed. He slapped her ass before reaching for his jeans. “I’ll distract him. You can shower first.”

“Aw, my hero.”

He leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of her face for a long, slow kiss. “Don’t you forget it, sweetheart.”

She was flushed and panting when he left to see to their son.

Chapter Seven

It took a week to convince the males in the compound that Jamie’s plan was sound. Livie and Jane, who’d been accepted into Mason’s security team, had helped a lot. Jamie wheedled Carter, Livie worked on Martin, and Jane, well…
antagonized
Mason was probably the best description. Jamie figured he eventually gave in out of pure self-preservation.

By then Jamie only had one bruise left on her side—a sickly yellow-green color, but it no longer hurt. She felt better than she had in years. The bond between her and Carter fed her power. The sex—incredible and mind-blowing—amplified it. She thought maybe she could conquer the world. Some days she believed the effort might be worth it. Mostly she recalled this was about protecting her family, which had been extended to include not only Carter, but his mother, sister and Brax. It was a little weird for someone who was so accustomed to being alone.

Martin and Toler, once they really believed the Elect were a different species and saw the photographs documenting Jamie’s injuries, were completely forthcoming. Unfortunately, though both men may have been assigned to Stine, he was a paranoid SOB. Martin and Toler didn’t know where he lived—couldn’t even guess a general area. Stine had a small handful of guards who escorted him to work and back home every day. Gabe’s computer searches hadn’t come up with any hints either.

So what they needed to do was draw Stine out into the open, get him to admit he’d abducted and experimented on people. They had one good shot. The doctor ate a late lunch every Friday at the same outdoor café in Tampa. His guards would be around, but the Elect could neutralize them while Jamie confronted Stine. It would all be recorded. They needed physical evidence or a taped confession to bust him. If he admitted he’d been the one to order her beaten for the last six months, they had him. Once they did, they could shut down the Stirling Institution. And in the process, hopefully end the danger to the Elect.

Or so the Elect leadership believed. Stine had claimed in his confrontation with Mallory Littman a couple of weeks ago that his organization was interested in research, in medical advances. But Jamie didn’t believe it for one second. She was convinced this went much further than a few rich researchers, a little bit of black ops money, figuring out there was another hominid species on the planet and exploiting the DNA differences.

So here she was, huddled in a car with Carter, her stomach roiling with nerves. They were waiting for Mason to confirm Stine’s arrival. Carter took her hand and squeezed.

“You’ll do fine.” His voice was filled with confidence, with faith, and it warmed her.

“Remind me to show you how much you mean to me later.” She intended her statement to be teasing, but it wasn’t. It was heartfelt and thankful and so much more.

“Hey,” he said, turning to her, lifting his hand to cup the side of her face, his fingers stroking. “You’re mine and you’re perfect.”

She grinned. “Love you too, babe.”

“You better,” he said, and just as his lips descended toward hers, Mason’s voice whispered through their mikes.

“Great fucking timing, Mase,” Carter snarled. “Y’all in position?”

She heard Mason’s amused drawl too. “Whenever you lovebirds are.”

Carter just growled.

“You’re clear,” Mason responded, laughing. “We have the bodyguards, but apparently they have to check in to their base every ten minutes, so you don’t have a lot of time.”

And it had probably taken five minutes to get that info out of them. “What’s the countdown?” Jamie asked.

“Six minutes, two seconds.”

She reached for the door handle. “Let’s move,” she said softly and hoped like hell she was up for the coming confrontation. Her Glock was a comforting weight tucked into the holster at the small of her back and covered by her shirt.

They’d parked just around the corner and approached Stine from behind, splitting so they came up behind him separately before moving to the opposite of the table. His eyes flared in recognition for just a moment as he looked at her, and Jamie felt like she’d been touched by black, oily slime. Then his face cleared and he gestured to the two seats across the small table.

“I take it you wish to speak to me?” he asked pleasantly.

She tilted her head and examined the monster who still invaded her dreams. “I’d rather kill you, but that option isn’t on the table. Yet.” She made her tone light, sweet. She watched him carefully, saw the moment her words sank in, and by then she’d taken her seat.

“Monster,” he hissed.

“Tut, tut. Your true colors are showing, Stine. Tell me, do you get off beating women? Is it exciting?”

Carter hovered at her back and she felt his rising concern, but he didn’t interfere. They’d discussed this. Breaking Stine shouldn’t have been easy, but it was much easier than she expected. His eyes were wild and out of control. He gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles were white. The man wasn’t stable. He leaned forward, gaze feral and face tight with anger.

“Woman? Are you sure? You aren’t human.”

“And that threatens you?”

“You threaten all of us,” he snapped and then seemed to get himself under control.

“Why?” she countered. “We only ask to live in peace.”

He gave one sharp shake of his head. “Do you believe that lie, girl? They mean to take over, and we mean to be ready.”

“Who? Who means to be ready?” she asked softly. She felt Carter’s shock behind her, but she’d been expecting this.

Stine turned sly now. “If they haven’t told you, I’m not giving you more information.” Then he smirked. “Better get going before my backup gets here to catch you. It’ll be so much worse this time, Ms. Wade. You know what you are now. You might get the answers I need.”

Carter lurched behind her—she sensed him—but when she shook her head, a silent signal, he stayed in position.

“You’re smoking crack, Stine. We don’t want to take over. There isn’t some grand conspiracy.”

“Is that right? I have someone who says otherwise. And you should see your people’s models that show you outpacing and killing off humanity in the next hundred years.” He jerked to his feet. “We won’t let that happen. You can take me out, but you won’t learn anything. And in this race?” He sneered. “We’re ahead.”

At that point, all hell broke loose.

“Get out,” Mason snapped in her ear. “Stine’s reinforcements are coming in. Fast.”

Damn, that meant leaving this fucker alive. Unless they killed him here. They couldn’t take him away cleanly, but Jamie had a hell of a time just letting it go.

Carter took her hand, but she didn’t let him pull her away. She shook her head.

“We can’t leave him alive,” she hissed, her fury growing. He was a monster. He’d never stop unless they made him.

“We can’t kill him in broad daylight in front of dozens of witnesses either,” Carter snapped back.

“Don’t worry. Brax has snipers in place,”
Carter told her telepathically, not giving anything away to Stine.

“Y’all need to move
now
,” Mason said over the earpiece.

Carter tugged her hand and she ran with him. They made it inside the car before three black-clad men rushed into view. They stopped in front of the vehicle, and two fired what looked and sounded like silenced pistols. The windshield was bulletproof, so she wasn’t worried until the third pulled what looked like a small rocket launcher from a case on the ground.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Carter growled, but Jamie barely paid attention.

She was opening the door and rolling out of the SUV. Coming up on one knee, she pulled her pistol and fired at the one with the most dangerous weapon. When he fell—a tiny, round hole marring his forehead—she turned to the other two, who’d already rushed toward her. She got one of them, but the last reached her before she could fire. He tackled her, then grabbed her wrists when she struggled against him.

She recognized him from her captivity—knew if he recaptured her, it would be hell. No fucking way. She wouldn’t lose Kaden and Carter again. She was still gripping her gun. She just needed him to let go long enough to get the shot off. Going for his balls probably wouldn’t work. He’d be expecting that. And where the fuck was Carter? She looked over long enough to see him fighting two more men. She was on her own.

“You don’t want to do this,” she whispered, making her voice sound weak. Scared.

He sneered at her, his grip loosening. “After this, Stine will let me do whatever I want to you,” he grunted.

He thrust his pelvis against her, and she had to force herself to stay still. To not respond when all she wanted to do was gouge his eyes out and shove his dick down his throat. She narrowed her eyes and moved, ramming one knee to his crotch, which he easily dodged. She’d anticipated that. He didn’t expect her other knee to meet his dodge, however. At the same time she lunged for his throat, biting hard enough to draw blood and making him rear back and release her wrists. A very serious mistake on his part. She didn’t hesitate at all as she swung her wrist up and fired point-blank. Blood and brains spattered over her as he fell.

She shoved him aside in time to see Carter, Mason and Brax rushing toward her. They were all pale, tense, shaking with fury that skated along her nerve endings—those Elect senses of hers kicking in. She rose to her feet slowly and faced them. She could see, could feel their intent. To rush her away, hide her away, protect her when she could so clearly protect herself.

“Don’t even think about it,” she snapped.

Carter stared at her a long time, and finally the tension in his body seemed to ease a bit. She heard sirens in the background.

“Shit,” Brax muttered. “Everyone clear out. Take the damned bodies.”