Dark Obsession Read online

  “You talk funny,” Benji commented pleasantly. “Yeah, that’s my Uncle Tal. Except he isn’t really my uncle. He’s my Mommy’s papa. But my Mommy isn’t the one who carried me in her belly either.”

  “And who is that?” the young man asked, his voice deceptively soft.

  “The one who carried you in her belly?”

  If Benji turned to look into Binu’s face, he might have been taken aback by the sharp intensity of his gaze, as if every molecule of his being was focused on the boy’s reply.

  “Olivia,” Benji replied easily. “My birth mother’s name was Olivia. She’s dead and gone to Heaven. Mommy says she’s happier now.”

  “And you, Benjamin? Are you happy?”

  A great big carefree grin spread across the boy’s innocent, open face.

  “Of course I’m happy!” he pronounced loudly, in the excited way eight-year-olds tended to do without warning.

  Benji faced Binu fully for the first time since the young man walked through the door, his bright blue eyes shining with unfettered joy.

  “I’m the happiest boy in the world! I have the bestest Mommy and Daddy and Mama Bear and Uncle Tal. And Sophie too! I live with Elves and Vampires and Vampire-Elves! I even have a magic leopard!”

  “Goodness, that’s quite a lot,” Binu said, slightly breathless in the face of the boy’s ecstatic recitation.

  “What about you?” Benji asked suddenly.

  “What about me?”

  “Are you happy?”

  Binu lowered his eyes and turned up the corners of his lips, but his attempt at a smile felt fake even to himself.

  “I’m happy to be in the presence of so much happiness,” he answered without really answering.

  Benji nodded, accepting his response at face value.

  “Which one are you?”

  Truly, Binu had the most difficult time following this conversation.

  Not that it was anything surprising. After all, this was the first time he could recall that he’d ever engaged in a tête-à-tête with an eight-year-old.

  “I don’t take your mean—”

  “Are you a vampire, an elf, or a vampire-elf?” Benji clarified.

  The young man let out an awkward chuckle.

  “Whatever would make you believe I’m anything other than an ordinary, boring human, my dear boy?” he asked somewhat nervously.

  “A dull, retiring corporate litigator. My life in no way resembles your charming fantasies.”

  His existence was all nightmares instead.

  The boy cocked his head at him.

  “But you can change shapes.”

  Binu drew in a breath and held it, truly appalled.

  “You always look like you on the inside, but the surface of you change,” the boy continued, unaware that he was venturing into dangerous territory.

  “I’ve seen you in two different forms now. Can you do more? Does that make you an elf or a vampire? Or are you more like my magic leopard?”

  The young man’s mouth parted to speak, but no sounds came out.

  His head was emptied of all coherent thought as the boy cavalierly exposed his secrets one by one.

  But he was saved from having to formulate a believable explanation or convincing rebuttal, because Tal returned just then with a tray of freshly brewed coffee and steaming hot cinnamon rolls.

  “My favorite!” Benji enthused, forgetting the young man’s very existence in light of mouth-watering dessert.

  “Can I have two, Uncle Tal? Please? I’m growing, you know. Mommy always tells me I need to eat more.”

  “She says that when you haven’t touched your greens,” Tal returned calmly.

  “But cinnamon rolls have cinnamon, Uncle Tal.”

  Tal compressed his lips to hide a smile.

  “I’m sure you’re about to explain your logic, Benji.”

  Benji rolled his eyes even though Tal couldn’t see, as if his logic was so straightforward it needn’t be spelled out.

  “Cinnamon is a bark. Barks protect the stems of plants and roots, which means they are close cousins to vegetables, which are synonymous with greens. Ergo, cinnamon rolls which are made of cinnamon are practically vegetables, Uncle Tal. Even if they aren’t green. That means I should eat more of them every chance I get. Mommy would certainly approve!”

  Tal was rumbling with laughter even before Benji had finished explaining, while Binu watched the boy in utter fascination, his almost exposed secrets forgotten.

  This boy was positively diabolical!

  Ridiculously smart. Brilliantly astute.

  This was a boy after his own dark heart.

  *** *** *** ***

  But we have to release you first.

  It was well past midnight, several hours after Agent Kyles had lobbed the verbal grenade at Maximus’s feet, after which she left without a word or explanation.

  He’d used the time to wash up, check his wounds, work out the remaining kinks in his body and take stock of his surroundings.

  She hadn’t tried to keep him prisoner. He’d been free to move about and leave the premises, which he did, to check and secure the perimeter.

  He determined that they were somewhere near Jamaica, Queens.

  Agent Kyles’ hideout was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. It had all the necessary amenities, however, so Maximus couldn’t complain.

  Just now, she quietly entered the small, rectangular safe house and bolted the door behind her, arms loaded with food and water.

  Minutes later, she seared on a skillet (just barely) a half dozen slabs of T-bone steaks before piling them on a disposable plate for each of them along with a couple of bread rolls. The meat could hardly be called rare, with the amount of blood it was pooled in.

  No vegetables. Which suited Maximus just fine.

  He hated vegetables. He was a meat and potatoes kind of male. With a regular dose of fresh blood on the side.

  They ate in silence. It wasn’t exactly comfortable.

  While Maximus sorted through possible scenarios in his head about how he got here, why Ariel Kyles was helping him, and what should be his next move, she didn’t seem to think about much at all beyond supper.

  Supper and him.

  Every time he looked up from his plate, he found her staring at him.

  She wasn’t trying to catch his eye though.

  Her gaze was riveted on his mouth and jaw as he chewed, his throat when he swallowed. She stared at his shoulders and chest aplenty too. Sometimes for such long durations she forgot to eat her own food, her mouth going slack mid-chew.

  She stared at him as if he was dessert.

  He cleared his throat.

  She blinked at the disturbance and slowly raised her eyes to his.

  “I met up with your comrade, the ninja,” she informed him casually, as if it was an insignificant piece of information that didn’t really need mentioning.

  “Takamura?”

  “Yes,” she confirmed. “Let him know you’re still alive and whole, and that you’ll make contact in due course.”

  “He believed you?”

  She shrugged, unconcerned.

  “Why would I lie? Besides, the video I showed him of you sleeping through your wounds seemed to convince him.”

  She plopped the last piece of nearly raw steak into her mouth.

  “Now, we can focus on our mission.”

  She communicated the rest to him through her mind: releasing you.

  Maximus shut down.

  An overwhelming sense of foreboding descended upon him.

  He’d spent his entire existence keeping himself bottled up, locked in. He shouldn’t ever be released. He didn’t want to be released.

  Did he?

  What did that even mean?

  “First thing’s first,” she cut through his mental paralysis, “we need to get out of here.”

  With efficiency and animal grace, she tossed their dishes in the trash and went about packing a number of item
s into a black utility backpack and a military duffle bag.

  Knives, guns, ammo, MREs, first aid, binoculars, canteen, magnesium, rope, goggles. She also managed to squeeze in a couple of vacuum sealed snow parka and gloves.

  “These should fit.”

  She brought over a roll of thick socks, a pullover, and a pair of heavy duty combat boots.

  It was June in New York. The weather was usually sunny and already climbing to eighty degrees during the day. Although the nights could still get chilly, it didn’t warrant so many layers, especially with the type of body heat Maximus packed.

  Looked like they were going on a trip.

  “You have a particular destination in mind?” he asked as he pulled on the gear.

  “Siberia,” she replied matter-of-factly, as if that was the only logical destination.

  “I have a ride for us on a cargo plane heading out of JFK at oh two hundred.”

  “What’s in Siberia?”

  “You tell me.” She gave him a scrutinizing look. “You’re the one who keeps dreaming about it.”

  How would she know about his dreams?

  “Through the cerebral link we share,” she answered the question he’d barely thought as if he’d spoken out loud.

  “Through her.”

  He wished it went both ways, this link. He couldn’t glean anything of her thoughts at all, not unless she pushed them at him.

  Which reminded him—“Why do you say Simca is inside you? How can that be?”

  Agent Kyles shrugged as she strapped on a utility belt.

  “I guess I was the nearest viable host body on hand when her soul departed upon her death. You should know better than me. I’m just extrapolating based on the research I’ve accumulated on your Kind after a decade of digging.”

  “I’ve never been to Siberia,” he pointed out.

  “That’s why we’re going,” she asserted. “Your other dreams come from memories. Ancient Rome, Alexandria, the wilds of Africa. This is the only one that comes as a vision. One in which you are surrounded by snow and ice on top of a jagged mountain range. The topography in your visions matches the Mid-Siberian mountains.”

  Now that she spoke about it, Maximus felt compelled to go there.

  He didn’t know why. He didn’t know what awaited him, but she was right.

  He had to find out.

  “How do you know all this?” It seemed like an oft repeated refrain that Maximus couldn’t help voicing where Ariel Kyles was concerned.

  He was badly shaken, though he tried to hide it.

  The woman seemed to have peered into his very soul!

  She’d seen things he’d never clearly seen himself. And he didn’t even know why she was helping him.

  She tapped a finger to her temple.

  “I triangulated the images from your dreams to real locations around the world. I haven’t been sitting idle while you’ve been getting your beauty sleep for the past three days.”

  He stared at her flummoxed.

  She was…incredible.

  She motioned with a tilt of her head to the door.

  “Time to head out. You strong enough to keep up?”

  Maximus stood with his long legs braced apart, breathing deeply in and out.

  He still felt weak from his barely healed wounds, but, yes, he should be able to keep up with a wisp of a human woman. Her tough-ass competence notwithstanding.

  He just wasn’t sure he was ready to follow her lead. He didn’t trust her despite having depended on her while at his most vulnerable.

  “You’re not afraid of little ‘ole me, are you, Mad Max?” she prodded when he didn’t move or answer.

  He bristled reflexively at the name she called him.

  She teased him so easily, and with such affectionate familiarity. It confused the hell out of him.

  But then she pierced him with that uncanny golden green stare, suddenly dead serious.

  “You know you have to do this, Maximus. You know it’s time. What have you got to lose?”

  Chapter Five

  “Were you really planning to hand over the information you gathered about my Kind to your Agency?”

  Maximus and Agent Kyles were sitting on the floor of a Lockheed C-5 Galaxy military transport aircraft in between tall wooden crates secured by thick ropes to metal loops on the plane’s belly. A couple of gigantic excavators took up the rear.

  The pilots didn’t bat an eye when she showed up with Maximus to board the plane along with the heavy duty equipment they were loading up. They even handed Kyles a couple of T-10 parachutes.

  Maximus had the sinking feeling they were going to use those.

  They were already outfitted in the winter gear she’d brought, the temperature in the plane not set to comfort for stowaway passengers.

  Maximus himself might not have needed the parka and gloves given his substantial body heat, but he eyed the human woman with concern.

  He was feeling somewhat…protective of her.

  But she appeared completely at ease and in her element.

  In answer, she pinned him with her unnerving stare.

  Not that they had anywhere else to look, save at each other, that was of remote interest, holed up in the cargo plane. They sat face to face, the heels of their boots almost touching with their legs stretched straight out in front of them.

  “No,” she said shortly, “It was a set up. I wanted to lure you out to meet you.”

  He frowned.

  “Why?”

  She gave an eloquent one-shouldered shrug.

  “I’ve been researching your Kind for over a decade. Researching you for almost as long. I wanted to meet you in the flesh. You could say I’ve become slightly obsessed.”

  He’d only started returning the favor of researching her a year ago. He had a lot of catching up to do.

  A corner of her mouth quirked and her eyes glinted in that irreverent way with which he was becoming increasingly familiar, as if she just thought of something wicked. A prelude to danger.

  She bit down on her full lower lip with her teeth.

  “And now that I’ve been possessed by your eternal familiar, my obsession has intensified exponentially.”

  Maximus steeled himself against the taunting innuendo in her words and focused on the logic instead.

  “How do I know Simca is with you?” he asked. “I saw her… disappear. How is it possible that you carry her inside you? What proof do you have?”

  She tilted her head as she regarded him.

  Simca often cocked her head in just the same way, and Maximus couldn’t help but notice the familiar gesture.

  “You mean, proof beyond the fact that I can read your thoughts and see your dreams as you have them? I have all of her memories too. Millennia’s worth of memories. She’s been by your side for a very long time.”

  He broke their gaze and looked down, his chest constricting with heartache.

  “Yes,” he admitted low.

  He’d been utterly alone in the time before he met Simca. Something had always been missing.

  He’d been a beggar and thief, a soldier, then a general. But he had no community and no roots. When he found the panther, he’d found a trusted companion.

  He’d found family.

  “She is not the only family you have, Maximus,” Agent Kyles said softly, reading his thoughts again.

  “What about the ones who created you? Have you ever wondered about them?”

  He had wondered. He had suspicions that were never proven, not that he’d ever tried to prove them.

  But he didn’t want to think about that now.

  Agent Kyles seemed to know everything about him, but he knew next to nothing about her. Not really. The facts and figures he’d collected over the past year didn’t help him to know her.

  He set out to shift the balance.

  “What about you?” he asked in turn. “What of your family? Your history? You still haven’t answered how it’s possible that you carry Simc
a inside you. Two souls cannot inhabit one body.”

  She shrugged again.

  “You’d know better than me. The concept of souls is as alien to me as the concept of…well, aliens. I grasp that some people believe in souls, just like humans believe in various religions, myths and lore. But I’m not exactly ‘human.’ I was created in a lab.”

  Maximus felt a twinge of sadness at her last statement, said so matter-of-factly, even though she herself didn’t appear to be bothered by her origins.

  “I just know that one moment I have purpose,” she continued, “I have thoughts and memories, and the next, with Simca, I have all of those things, but also feelings. And needs and desires. I have new memories as well, and my thoughts and purpose have altered. Is it the existence of souls that makes us feel alive? Because I’ve never felt as alive as I do now.”

  Maximus wasn’t an expert on souls either.

  He knew that there were Lost Souls which manifested themselves in people who sought self-destruction and death, as if their souls forever wanted to depart from their bodies.

  His ex-comrade Inanna had made it her purpose, when she’d been one of the Chosen, to release these souls back into the Universal Balance so that they could finally find peace. Hence, she earned the moniker Angel of Death.

  He also knew that Dark Ones born could create vampires by injecting a piece of their soul into human shells whose souls had departed at the moment of death.

  But because that process led to the fragmentation of the creator’s soul, there was a finite number of turnings before both the Dark One and the vampires they created unraveled into madness.

  Beyond that, Maximus had no knowledge. It wasn’t as if the secrets of his Kind were written in a manual somewhere.

  “How have your thoughts and purpose altered?” he continued to query, trying to glean more of Simca in Ariel Kyles.

  She flashed him a beatific grin, full of mischief and heat.

  “Do you really want to know? It has to do with my new obsession.”

  His body flushed with instant sexual awareness.

  Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, trying to redirect the conversation.

  “Tell me something of you. The story that isn’t in your files.”

  She folded her arms and tilted her head back against the wall, settling into a more comfortable position.