"I don't know how to pretend." Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing pools of yearning and confusion. "I don't even know why we'd want to do it."
A pang cut through his chest. Did she truly not know? "We pretend because it's fun . . . and we want to do it because we desire each other and we're desperate for an excuse to touch."
Her gaze returned to his lips and lingered. "I don't want you . . . shouldn't want you . . . but I do want to know what it's like to be kissed." She whispered the last, reverent.
She'd never been kissed? No. Hell, no. She was playing him. She had to be playing him. But he would pretend he believed her. He would do anything to learn the taste of her.
"Let me teach you how." He lowered his head, driven by an insatiable hunger he could no longer override. "If you bite me . . ."
"I won't, you have my word."
"I'll probably like it," he finished. Right now, she could do no wrong.
Her breath caught, but just before his lips met hers, she placed a finger on his chin, holding him just out of reach. "This doesn't mean anything. Afterward, I will kill you."
"May I suggest you kill me with pleasure?" he whispered, and her finger fell away.
"Yes. Pleasure." She sounded drunk. "But afterward I'll make it hurt."
"That's not a deal breaker." He pressed his mouth against hers. She opened for him eagerly, welcoming him inside, gifting him with his first taste of heaven on earth. In that moment, stroking his tongue over hers was as much about survival as pleasure. The woman devastated his senses, lust for her consuming him.
She leaned closer, but remained tentative, again seeking more contact with him. The action, small as it was, only inflamed him more, animal need threatening to fell him.
Slow and steady wins the race.
He gently bit her bottom lip, running the delicious little plum through his teeth. Her gasp of surprise slowed him down further, and in a moment of startling clarity, he realized she hadn't been kissing him back, had merely accepted his possession.
A stray thought jolted him. What if she'd told the truth? What if this really is her first kiss, and she doesn't know what to do?
No, no. Impossible. There was no way a beauty like her had gone her entire life without the attentions of a man. But his suspicions lingered. . . .
And a lance of possessiveness nearly cleaved him in two. One side would kill to keep her while the other would keep her to kill her.
Too much too fast! And yet he only wanted more. "Going to kiss you harder now." A warning.
A warning she failed to heed. "Yes . . . harder . . ."
He ate at her, and this time she responded in kind, her tongue rolling against his, her teeth biting at his lower lip, her mouth sucking on his. No finesse between them, only white-hot need, and he didn't just like it; he loved it.
"That's the way." He anchored his hands on the backs of her thighs and lifted her up. Her skin color began to change, matching the kitchen, then remaining the dusky bronze of his. "You're getting me so hot."
He set her on the counter, and she moaned, her arms and legs winding around him, her breasts smashing into his chest. Her nipples were hard little buds of arousal, creating the perfect friction every time she inhaled.
"More," she all but growled.
"Greedy girl." He tangled his fingers in her braids, and she combed her fingers in his hair. She bit down on his lip with a little more force, a bead of his blood welling.
Her next moan tapered into an animalistic snarl, and the power inside her--just--exploded.
No warning. Just whoosh!
A second later, he was flung across the room, though he never hit the wall or even the floor, instead hovering as if suspended by invisible chains. The apartment he'd rented just for Lilica faded, and a midnight sky took shape around him--around them. She floated a few feet away, her eyes and strands of her hair aglow, as if the northern lights had just been made flesh. Stars fell around her, leaving rainbow-colored streaks in their wake. A clap of thunder boomed.
"What's happening?" he shouted.
"I don't know!" she cried out, her back bowing, her head thrown back.
"Lilica!" Her powers . . . she had her powers as if she'd been shot full of adrenaline . . . or intense sexual arousal--
What the hell had he done?
The rainbow lights shot out of her to coil around him; they burned and scalded him . . . before drawing him closer and closer to her . . . until they were only a whisper away from each other--then completely flush against each other. Though he fought with every bit of his considerable might, he couldn't sever the connection.
I'm being touched. . . . I'm touching someone else . . . touching a man.
Lilica was overcome by astonishment and joy, awe and lust. So much lust. But at the forefront of each emotion was an instinct she'd never learned, never honed, and now couldn't control. An instinct to possess. To master, to brand . . . to own.
It had started with the kiss, when Dallas had backed her into the counter and caged her in, his scent blending with hers, his gaze hot on hers, his body as hard and intractable as steel while hers softened against him, as if melting.
She'd thought, Killing him is a must, and I will strike--later. What would it hurt to indulge my curiosity for a few seconds . . . perhaps a few minutes, to pretend just as he asked? To be touched. To touch in return.
He was a beautiful man, the sexuality he exuded raw and in-your-face. She was drawn to it--drawn to him--and utterly captivated by his words, expressions, and thought process, desperate to experience everything he had to offer. He'd been right about that. Any excuse . . .
And she couldn't regret it. Her first kiss had come from a master. His tongue had expertly caressed hers, his body heat wrapping around her, hugging her. Her first hug too. A previously untapped and untamed ferocity had consumed her then, and she'd needed more, needed to give and to take. She'd lost control. That's when she'd remembered something she'd read about her ancestors. How they'd bonded with their captors to save themselves.
She'd thought, If I bond with Dallas, perhaps I can save Trinity.
The urge to bite him had struck, so she'd bitten him. Hadn't even considered resisting. His blood--
Oh, his blood! She'd never hungered for blood before, but she thought she would now forever crave his. The power that had come with a single drop . . .
At her first taste, the drug he'd used on her had disintegrated. Just, boom, gone. She'd amphed his alien abilities without even trying and, because he'd been a part of her, she'd amphed herself in the process. They'd ended up in this strange, endless night where they were seemingly being knit together with light.
Knit together . . . bonded?
Would they now share pleasure and pain? Life and death?
No, no. Impossible. Instinct and blood couldn't bond two people . . . right?
Of course not! Especially because nothing and no one mattered more to Lilica than her sisters. They were bonded to her too, though not like this. Not this intensely.
The girls had been her only source of joy for so long--for all the days of her life, really. They loved her, and she loved them. Dallas was simply a blip, here today, gone and forgotten tomorrow.
But even as she tried to convince herself that he meant nothing, that this meant nothing, a deluge of memories she'd never lived began to pour inside her head. A drug-addicted mother . . . the many boyfriends the woman had entertained . . . her screams as she was beaten . . . living on the street . . . dead, she was dead . . . the little orphan boy no one wanted . . .
Fat tears rolled down Lilica's cheeks. Had she just gotten a glimpse of Dallas's childhood?
Dallas caught the tears, rubbing the moisture between his fingers. "So rarely touched . . ."
He knew. How did he know?
He must have seen into her past as well. The knowledge unsettled her. All of this unsettled her.
He let his arms fall to his sides, and she whimpered. Anger replaced his tenderness. "Make it
stop, Lilica."
"I can't. Trying . . ." However, the stars ceased to fall at last. The rainbow lights faded, but so did the darkness--until she and Dallas were once again inside the kitchen.
Now they were both sprawled on the floor.
Up, up! For one bright moment, she would be the taller of the two. She would have the position of power. Unable to catch her breath, she lumbered to her feet.
The moment ended in a snap. Dallas jumped up, a tower of menace and rage.
He closed in on her, aggression in every step. "Whatever you did to me, undo it. Now."
She opened her mouth to tell him to back off, but her mind beat her to it. --Back off!--
"What the hell?" He ground his fists into his temples. "You spoke inside my head. How did you do that?"
What! Telepathic communication? With him? No! No, no, no. She absolutely refused. If he had access to whatever thoughts she had while they were open to each other, she would be unable to keep secrets from him, and she had to keep her secrets. All the secrets.
. . . On the flip side, he would be unable to keep his secrets from her.
"You're going to tell me everything you did to me, Lilica, and exactly how to undo it."
"No, you're going to back off and ask nicely, or you're not getting anything from me." With her power no longer under siege, she was able to gather a bolt of energy. She reached for him, ready to unleash as soon as they touched--but the power shot out of her before they made contact, the invisible stream launching him across the room.
He slammed into the counter, smacked into the floor, and grunted. She grunted too, pain suddenly ricocheting through her as if she'd been the one to experience impact. But even with the pain, she wasn't weakened, her power used up. No, on the contrary. She was strengthened. She'd once again amphed herself by amphing him.
They were bound.
Dread unfurled as the truth--and the consequences--slapped on spiked boots and danced through her head.
Dallas rolled his shoulders, shook his head. He spoke one word, only one, but it burned with enough rage to torch the entire world. "Nicely."
Well. She had to admire his unwillingness to back down, even when circumstances continued to worsen. He was--
A deluge of information shoved its way to the forefront of her mind, claiming her focus. He was a love-'em-and-leave-'em guy. One and done. Dick it and quit it. Hit and run. Many women had accused him of having no sticking power. Many of his victims had called him the Heartless Foe, lamenting his willingness to kill for cases, pouting about his lack of concern for the people he hurt.
The knowledge boiled in her mind, as real to her as he was . . . as real as the memories she hadn't lived. She didn't have to see into the future to know what would happen next. He would attempt to break the bond, realize he could use her to complete his mission, then actually use her. Once her sister had been defeated, he would attempt to sever the bond again, through any means necessary.
Rational of him. Can't fault him.
When he failed, and he would, he would forever resent her. Resentment she would feel through the bond.
If he killed Trinity, Lilica would resent him. She would kill him, even if she had to die too.
If he allowed Trinity to live, his resentment for Lilica would only grow.
Always unwanted . . .
I don't want him either. I don't! "I don't know a lot about the Falle," she said, treading carefully. "I was raised in the lab."
He blinked, shook his head again, as if surprised by his thoughts. "You weren't just raised there. You were created there."
How had he--
Never mind. The same way she'd known about him. "I was an experiment."
"You and your sisters."
"Yes." A spasm in her chest, a cramp in her stomach. "According to everything I've read, the Falle are able to establish bonds with others, but there's a special bond we can establish with only one person--the one we select as a mate," she added softly. She looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
Is that what I did? Selected him as my one and only?
"Mate," he grated. "Sweetness, there's no way but brutal honesty to break this to you, but I am not your mate. Not now, not ever."
"I know that," she snapped, fighting past a wave of hurt. I don't want him either, remember? "But it happened. It's done, and I don't know how to undo it." She threw her arms into the air. "So congratulations. You're now married to me. Husband."
"Like hell. Consider yourself divorced, effective immediately."
She blew him a kiss using a single finger. The middle one. "Yes, because that's exactly how it works."
Fury blazed in those arctic eyes. "How does it work, then?"
"I told you I don't know." She drew in a heavy breath, held . . . held . . . certain of only one thing. "Unless one of us dies. Then the other will follow."
Wait. Wait! An exception to the rule teased the back of her mind--but though she concentrated, that exception remained hidden in the shadows of Dallas's deluge.
He bared his teeth in a scowl, and suddenly all she wanted to do was rip away his clothes, one passion exchanged for another. She wanted to claim his mouth in another savage kiss, wanted to bite and suck on his tongue, his lips . . . wanted to grind on him and crawl all over him. To take and take and take some more. To be the bad girl--the evil one--the doctors had always considered her.
Lady Wicked wants her man.
Maybe Dallas desired something similar. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, his chest rising and falling quickly but shallowly, his nostrils flared.
"Why would you do this to me?" he demanded.
"Like I had a choice," she snapped. Did I? Then she repeated, "It happened. Get over it, move on."
"Move on? Please, enlighten me. How am I supposed to do that while details I never learned bombard me?"
"What kinds of details?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.
"When the Falle mate, the heart of the male and the heart of the female click together like puzzle pieces, their lives forever entwined. If the two fail to consummate their union in a timely manner, they will devolve into a monstrous state until they think of nothing but copulation, until they will do anything to screw each other--until they will slay anyone who tries to stop them."
Yes. She'd read those things in the files at the lab. And for the first time, she worried she might turn on her sisters. Just to get naked with him!
No. No! She would have sex with Dallas, and soon, so her head would remain clear. Then, despite the bond, she would figure out a way to save Trinity from him.
So. Okay. All right. She had a new mission. Seduce the prick.
He scowled and tapped his ear on his shoulder. "What?"
She bristled. "You did not just speak to me like--"
He held up a finger, looking preoccupied, indicating he needed a second. "Jade," he said--but not to her, she now realized. "What's her connection--never mind. The answer just came to me."
"Jade? What about her?" Lilica rushed over, fisted his shirt, and shook him. "Tell me!" But there was no need. The information filled her head. Walsh had attacked IOT. Jade was injured. An agent named John had saved her.
The front door of the apartment slammed open, jolting them both. Without hesitation, Dallas shoved her behind him and grabbed a pyre-gun from somewhere underneath the kitchen counter.
Protecting and shielding me?
Shock and pleasure battled for supremacy.
Concentrate! The apartment had an open concept, allowing anyone standing in the living room to see directly into the kitchen, and vice versa. Horror slashed her forced calm to ribbons when she spotted Dr. Walsh. He was a monster. His once sun-drenched skin was now gray and oozed pus. His thick cap of hair had fallen out, half his scalp hanging down one side of his face.
Here to kill me?
"Don't move," she shouted, using compulsion as she stalked forward.
He moved, baring crimson-stained teeth in a parody of a
smile. He lifted a skinny arm to point a gnarled finger in her direction. "Mine." Even his voice had changed. It was deeper than before, harder, as if it had been forged in the bowels of hell.
Dallas gripped her bare wrist and yanked her back into place, as if he didn't want another man to see her in her bra and panties. "She's mine." He aimed the gun and fired off a shot, a beam of blue light nailing Walsh in the chest. The former doctor--former human!--merely stumbled back a few steps, the new gaping wound sizzling and steaming.
I'm his? "I just need to touch him," she told Dallas. "I'll tell him to die, and our problem will be solved." Except that Walsh no longer had a life force. He was already dead. Would compulsion ever work on him again?
"You're not touching him." In a single heartbeat, Dallas shot a circle around her. The floorboards, support beams, and insulation burned, ash swiftly rising up to choke her.
His thoughts were now blocked. "What are you--" The floor gave and with a scream, she dropped with it.
She landed inside another apartment, air gusting from her lungs, her knees buckling. She rolled out of the way, expecting Dallas to jump down and join her. He didn't. But he did open his mind again, probably unwittingly, allowing his plan to crackle through the bond. He would stay behind, fight Walsh, find a way to free himself from Lilica, then kill Trinity.
Well, good luck with that. Lilica leaped to her feet. The owner of the apartment raced around the corner, took one look at the damage to her home, and shrieked.
Part of Lilica shouted: Dress, return to Dallas, help him. The other part demanded she leave now, now, now, while he couldn't do anything to stop her. She would find Jade and make sure her sister was okay.
Yes. That one. Lilica rushed past the woman. She entered the first bedroom she came across and grabbed two pieces of clothing from a dresser. Then, dressing along the way, she sprinted into the hall, down the stairs, out of the building, and into the evening darkness.
5
Monster-man pawed a bare foot over the floor, preparing to attack.
Dallas had two options: stay and fight him, now that Lilica was out of the danger zone, or chase Lilica before she managed to drop off the grid.