A Reaper's Love (WindWorld) Read online

  Now he knew it would be entirely different. He was different. He was something more.

  Chapter Nine

  The Exchange Board Room

  “His name is Dixon Wayne Coulter. Born August 8, 1980 in Milton, Florida. Along with six brothers and sisters he was taken from his mother and put into the foster care system. He was raised by Ned and Eleanor Branch, graduated valedictorian of his high school in 1998 and enlisted in the Navy. He aced the ASVAB and went into SEAL training. Numerous citations of merit, outstanding evals. On November 22, 2012 he disappeared during his last mission and until now there has been no word on his whereabouts,” Jonas Cobb, the Supervisor’s Executive Assistant, reported.

  “If he’d had a hellion inside him when they did his physical they would have discovered it,” Director Charles commented. “They’d have sent him directly to us.”

  “That goes without saying,” the Supervisor snapped. He was still in a state of shock that the balgair had called him by his first name—a name no one other than his brothers knew.

  Taylor was watching the succession of photos taken of Coulter from childhood on. The last one was dated November 15th, 2012 and was a surveillance photo taken in Afghanistan. “Stop the vid,” he said.

  Cobb frowned but pointed the remote at the vid-com and paused it.

  “Go back to the shot of his face and zoom in,” Taylor said. When Cobb obeyed Taylor walked up to the screen.

  “You seeing something?” Director Ingram asked.

  The Prime Reaper ignored the question. “Split the screen and run the video feed that was transmitting from Laci’s camera before the signal vanished.”

  Cobb thumbed some buttons on the remote and the vid-com halved down the middle. The video began playing.

  “Freeze it!” Taylor ordered. “Zoom in.”

  The video stopped on Coulter’s face then tightened to a close up.

  “Look at his eyes,” Taylor said and stepped back so the others could see what he’d seen.

  “What are we looking for?” Director Charles asked.

  “The color,” the Supervisor said, getting to his feet. “In the last Navy photo his eyes are brown. On the vid, they are green.”

  “Okay, so we can surmise he was given a hellion at some point after his disappearance,” Director Nealson said. “Who would…?”

  “He has my hellion,” Taylor said.

  The Supervisor doubled his fists and planted them on the table in front of him. “How can you be sure?”

  “Hassan captured him,” Taylor said as though he hadn’t heard the question. “I knew there were other prisoners but I never saw any of them.”

  “Then how do you know they were there?” Director Charles asked.

  Taylor turned his head to give the man a hard glower. “Because I could hear them screaming.”

  “They took the hellion from you and gave it to Coulter,” Director Ingram said. “Why? For what purpose?”

  “Good question, Ike,” Director Nealson said.

  “Because they thought they could make a super warrior of him,” Taylor said, his attention focused on Coulter’s face. “They thought they could control him.” He smiled but the smile did not reach his eyes. It was the predatory grin of a very dangerous animal. “They were wrong.”

  “So he Converted then went after them,” Director Nealson said.

  “Would not the goddess be in control of the hellion?” Director Ingram asked. “And thus in control of Coulter?”

  “If the goddess is in control of him, that means he is doing Her bidding and we know how She feels about warmongers,” Director Charles stated. “If that is the case, then he is with us, not against us.”

  “That remains to be seen,” the Supervisor said. He straightened. “What is bothering you, Reynaud?”

  “He has my hellion,” Taylor said. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “He also has your woman,” the Supervisor said quietly.

  Taylor turned and those who saw the fury in his eyes drew back from it and were warned by it.

  “Yes, he does and there is a reason he cut the transmission from her camera,” Taylor said between clenched teeth.

  “The hellion is telling him she is his mate,” Cobb put in.

  Taylor’s eyes turned scarlet red, his lips peeled back from his fangs, and every man there save the Supervisor scrambled to get up from his chair and jump back with audible cries of terror.

  “Get me there,” Taylor hissed to the Supervisor. “Get me there now!”

  Swallowing his own fear, the Supervisor nodded. It would not do to show alarm to the directors. “Cobb,” he said, carefully controlling his voice, “get Reynaud a chopper to the airfield and have a jet standing by.”

  Long after the chopper had vanished from sight, the Supervisor stood at the window and stared at the overcast Iowa sky. Rain was coming.

  As would the irate mind-hiss from Reynaud as soon as the Panthera reached the airport and found the surprise waiting for him.

  “It’s for your own good, Taylor,” he said. “There are forces here you aren’t equipped to engage.”

  He heard the soft footsteps behind him but didn’t turn around. Didn’t speak to the man who joined him at the window.

  “They are there, sir,” Cobb said.

  “Please call my brothers and thank them for me, Jonas.”

  “Of course, sir. Will there be anything else?”

  “Aye. A stiff bourbon and two aspirins. I’m going to need them.”

  The chopper landed at the airstrip just north of Oakland Acres. Before the skids had a chance to touch down, Taylor was out the door he hadn’t let them shut and was sprinting toward the black Gulfstream. So intent was he in getting on the plane and taking off, it didn’t register with him that the engines weren’t on when he took the steps into the jet two at a time. But the moment he saw Viraiden Cree lounging in one of the plush seats, he knew.

  Fury shot through Taylor. They had sent the badass Prime to accompany him to Greece. Obviously the Supervisor didn’t think he was up to taking on the balgair by himself.

  “I don’t need your help,” he snapped.

  “Wasn’t planning on giving you any,” Cree said with a wolfish grin.

  “Then why are you here?” Taylor demanded.

  “To keep your ass where it belongs,” the Lupine Reaper replied.

  Taylor whipped around to find Darkyn Sorn blocking his path.

  “Going somewhere, Tay?” Sorn asked.

  “Get the hell out of my way, Darkyn,” Taylor ordered. He closed and opened his fists, his fangs descending.

  “Ain’t gonna happen, bro,” Sorn replied. When Taylor made to go around him, Sorn sidestepped into his path. “Unh, unh.”

  Taylor heard Cree behind him and before he could turn around something sharp and wickedly hot drove deep into his shoulder. He yelped, slapped a hand to the stinging agony then felt his knees begin to buckle.

  “Fuck you,” he sent to the Supervisor as his world started to close down.

  “Sweet dreams, little Reaper,” Sorn said with a laugh.

  The last thing Taylor heard was Viraiden complaining about how heavy he was as he and Sorn began dragging him out of the plane and to the containment cell he knew had his name on it.

  * * * * *

  There were three Prime Reapers in attendance. Two sat with the Supervisor and another was present via conference vid.

  “All right, so he’s safe for now,” Fallon said from the vid-screen. “But you’re going to have one fucking mad Panthera on your hands when he wakes up.”

  “Better he be able to wake up,” the Supervisor said. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with, Fallon. If I had let him go to Greece, there’s no telling what might have happened.”

  “This dude is powerful, Misha,” Darkyn said. “The psi abilities were rolling off him like water from a duck’s back. I could feel the mental pushes strongly enough to give me one really bad headache that put me in bed for twelve hours.”<
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  “Tay is nowhere near being strong enough to take on this asshole,” Cree put in.

  “So what?” Fallon demanded. “If it was Bronwyn the prick had, what would you do, Cree?”

  “Move heaven and earth to get to her even if I ran the risk of getting my ass handed to me,” Cree said. “That’s not the point, Fallon. I might have a chance with the Rogue since my hellion is far older than Tay’s. At the moment Tay has only a fledgling inside him, not a full-grown hellion. He’s not that much stronger now than he was when his king was taken.”

  “Well, fuck you, Cree, don’t you think I know that?” Fallon shouted.

  “Mind your manners, pup, or I’ll fuck your shit up so bad—” Cree began but the Supervisor intervened.

  “That’s enough!” he snapped. “We don’t know the balgair poses a threat to Albright.”

  Fallon rolled his eyes. “Wishful thinking on your part,” he mumbled.

  “There’s no doubt there is a threat,” Cree said. “Not a physical threat at least. He wouldn’t hurt Laci.”

  “How do you know that?” Darkyn asked.

  “You’re not mated so you don’t have a point of reference,” Cree said, “but mated Reapers aren’t physically or mentally capable of harming their life-mates. You might turn her shapely ass over your knee and give her a good smack or two but you wouldn’t dream of actually hurting her. The protection command is much too strong. That is one geasa no Reaper can ignore.”

  “But Tay is Laci’s mate,” Darkyn protested.

  “It is the hellion inside the Reaper that intercepts the mating imperative and acts on it,” Cree said.

  “And Tay’s hellion is inside the Rogue,” Fallon said. “This Coulter shit is feeling exactly what Reynaud felt when he first laid eyes on Laci.”

  “What I felt when I first saw Bronwyn and what Fallon felt with Keenan,” Cree added.

  “It hits you like a ton of bricks and there is no thinking of anything else save having her under you, being inside her,” Fallon said. “All we can do is hope the Rogue will wait until he gets to the Exchange before he attempts to mate with her. Trouble is, he may not be able to wait. Taylor knows this and that’s why he’s so pissed.”

  “And worried,” the Supervisor broke in. “As am I.”

  “You think Laci will give in that easily?” Sorn asked.

  “She may not have a choice,” Cree said. “If this bastard is as powerful as you think he is, he could easily control her, make her do what she normally wouldn’t.”

  “I see the problem. All right, we need to separate Tay’s hellion from the Rogue,” Sorn said. “That’s a given.”

  “Aye, well that might be easier said than done,” the Supervisor replied. “We are dealing with a very powerful entity here. We don’t even know what he is as of yet.”

  “I asked An Fear Liath Mor to look into it but he hasn’t gotten back to me,” Fallon said. “I need to rattle his cage again.”

  “Then I suggest you get on it,” Cree told him. “The longer Laci is with the Rogue, the more time the hellion will have to work on her.”

  “What does that mean?” Sorn asked, his brow furrowed.

  “It means it could make her give in to its host,” Fallon said. “Influence her, Sorn. Coulter could conceivably have the ability to take her away from Reynaud.”

  “We need to get him to the Exchange,” Fallon said. “That’s all there is to it.”

  “He’ll come,” Cree said.

  “And you know this because…?” Sorn asked.

  “He wants to be the Alpha here,” Cree said. “Why is the $64,000 question.”

  “You question his motives in taking out the terrorists?” Sorn wanted clarified.

  “I don’t trust him because I don’t know him,” Cree said. “He could be doing the bidding of Raphian.”

  At the mention of the Dark God, the Destroyer of Men’s Souls, the other men looked acutely concerned.

  “Has it occurred to any of you that this might be Raphian’s way of starting the war we all know is coming?” Cree asked. “Organizations like Al-Queda, the Taliban, Hamas, they now know we exist. They know we are actively working against them. My guess is that’s why Hassan tried to make his own version of a Reaper warrior. If Raphian is involved, it would be on the side of the terrorists.”

  “I see what you mean,” the Supervisor said. “Such a thing had never crossed my mind, Cree, and it should have.”

  “Coulter was a SEAL,” Cree said. “That means he is a patriot. If Raphian is involved, He would want Coulter to believe he is doing what he needs to protect civilization from all-out war. He’d make him believe the imperative was coming from the Triune Goddess, Herself. Coulter wouldn’t know any better. He gets here, becomes your Alpha then starts working against us.”

  “Cree hit the nail on the head. Wouldn’t it stand to reason if Coulter was working for Mo Regina She would have informed us?” Fallon asked.

  “Mo Regina did not create the Panthera. She tends to ignore their existence most of the time,” the Supervisor reminded them. “She can control them—as She can any creature—but they are not Hers. She doesn’t track them like She does Lupines and Hell-hounds.”

  “If Mo Regina didn’t create you, who did?” Fallon asked of Sorn.

  “The an Éigiptian goddess Bastet,” Sorn replied. “She and the Diabolusian god Tepeyollotl.”

  “Where the Lupine and Hell-hound species were created, the Panthera were god-born. Which tends to make them very arrogant,” Alexandru said, glancing at Sorn.

  Sorn grinned back at him. “And very intelligent.” At his Supervisor’s snort, Sorn chuckled.

  “Here’s something to consider. Terra could be low on Mo Regina’s list of priorities right now. That may be why She hasn’t stepped in,” Cree grumbled. “As She’s told us many times, we are not Her only concerns.”

  Alexandru nodded. “She will intervene in Her own good time. If he’s a threat to us, She’ll quash him quickly enough.”

  Chapter Ten

  On Santorini

  He took her hand as they left the restaurant and she was incapable of preventing him. His fingers were warm wrapped around her own as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” she protested.

  “I shouldn’t do a lot of things,” he said.

  “My life-mate wouldn’t like it,” she told him but he just smiled.

  “It is lovely here,” he said. “I can see why you like it so much. I’m looking forward to moving into the beach house for the remainder of the week.”

  “The beach house is taken,” she said.

  “Agent Kerns will be vacating the premises come morning. She’s had it two days and that’s long enough.”

  “And just how do you…?” She stopped. She knew he’d somehow arranged for Nellis Kerns to leave the beach house without so much as lifting a finger.

  “Yes,” he said. “I am that good at what I do.”

  “If you’re trying to make me uneasy, you are doing a bang-up job of it,” she mumbled.

  “Put your mind at ease, sweeting,” he said. “You are as safe with me as you were in your mother’s womb.”

  “You know nothing about my mother,” she said.

  “Au contraire, my love,” he said. “There isn’t anything I don’t know about you. Test me and you’ll see.”

  “And my life-mate?” she asked to knock him off his game. “Do you know everything there is to know about him?”

  “Better than anyone alive,” he said softly.

  That frightened her more than she was willing to admit. Taylor was in danger from this man. She could sense it.

  “No harm will come to Taylor Reynaud,” he said. He stopped, tugging on her hand to keep her beside him. His face was stern, his eyes hard as emeralds. “He may not be happy about losing you as his life-mate but, hey, shit happens to the best of men,” he stressed—each word dropping like acid on her soul.

  “You
are not my life-mate,” she said, horrified that that was what he was suggesting.

  “Hassan took his hellion,” he said in a low, hard voice. “That hellion is now inside me. I am your life-mate, sweeting. Me. Not Reynaud. Me.”

  She stared at him, horrified by what he’d said. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Taylor and I are bonded. We are bonded!”

  “A bond I will sever,” he said.

  Slamming her hands to his chest, she tried to push him away but he held tight. His clench was like iron around her and she could feel his body against hers so intensely it brought on panic.

  “Let go!” she said, shoving at him.

  “Never.”

  Though she struggled against him she could not break his hold nor could she move as he lowered his head to claim her lips in a kiss that sent waves of unadulterated lust racing through her treacherous body.

  “No…” she mumbled against his lips but she could feel the fight draining out of her. He deepened the kiss, she experienced something wild moving inside her and then she was clutching at his shoulders, returning the kiss with desperation. As her mind began to fall under his spell she heard his low chuckle of triumph.

  Dixon put everything he had into the kiss. Every ounce of power that was now housed within him came roaring to the surface with one clear intent—to make the woman in his arms forget any other man existed in her world.

  “Take her,” the hellion whispered slyly. “She is yours.”

  He ended the kiss and looking deep into her glazed eyes, he lifted his hand to her chin. “We’re going home how, sweeting,” he told her.

  “Yes,” she said, the word slightly slurred as though she were intoxicated.

  He brushed his lips across hers lightly then released her, hooking an arm around her waist to pull her against his side. With her firmly under his complete control, he escorted her to his hotel.

  * * * * *