Lover Eternal

there.

Hal opened the passenger door and helped her inside the car. When he slid into the driver's seat, she looked around at the pristine interior to avoid getting caught up in his profile.

The GTO growled as he put it in first gear and they shot down her little road to the stop sign at Route 22. He looked both ways and then accelerated to the right, the sound of the engine rising and falling like breath as he shifted again and again until they were cruising.

'This is a spectacular car,' she said.

'Thanks. My brother did it over for me. Tohr loves cars.'

'How old is your brother?'

Hal smiled tightly. 'Old enough.'

'Older than you?'

'Yup.'

'Are you the youngest?'

'No, but it's not like that. We're not brothers because we were born of the same female.'

God, he had such a weird way of putting words together sometimes. 'Were you adopted into the same family?'

He shook his head. 'Are you cold?'

'Ah, no.' She glanced at her hands. They were dug into her lap so deeply, her shoulders were hunched forward. Which explained why he thought she was chilly. She tried to loosen up. 'I'm just fine.'

She looked out the windshield. The double yellow line down the center of the road glowed in the headlights. And the forest crowded up to the edge of the asphalt. In the darkness, the tunnel illusion was hypnotic, making her feel as if Route 22 went on forever.

'How fast does this car go?' she murmured.

'Very fast.'

'Show me.'

She felt his eyes dart across the seat. Then he downshifted, hit the gas, and sent them into orbit.

The engine roared like a living thing, the car vibrating as the trees blurred into a black wall. They went faster and faster, but Hal remained in complete control as they hugged the turns tightly, weaving in and out of their lane.

When he started to slow, she put her hand on his hard thigh. 'Don't stop.'

He hesitated for only a moment. Then he reached forward and turned on the stereo. 'Dream Weaver,' that seventies anthem, flooded the inside of the car at earsplitting levels. He stomped on the accelerator and the car exploded, carrying them at breakneck speed down the empty, endless road.

Mary put her window down, letting the air rush in. The blast tangled in her hair and chilled her cheeks and woke her out of the numbness she'd been in since she'd left the doctor's. She started laughing, and even though she could hear the edge of hysteria in her voice, she didn't care. She stuck her head out into the cold, screaming wind.

And let the man and the car carry her away.

Mr. X eyed his two new prime squadrons as they marched into the cabin for another meeting. The lessers' bodies absorbed the free space, shrinking the size of the room and satisfying him that he had enough muscle to cover the front line. He'd ordered them to come back for the usual updating reasons, but he also wanted to see in person how they'd reacted to the news that Mr. O was now in charge of them.

Mr. O was the last inside, and the man went directly to the doorway of the bedroom, leaning against the jamb casually, his arms over his chest. His eyes were sharp, but there was a reserve to him now, a reticence that was far more useful than his anger had been. It seemed as though the dangerous puppy had been brought to heel, and if the trend continued, they were both in luck. Mr. X needed a second in command.

With the losses they'd sustained of late, he had to concentrate on recruiting, and that was a full-time job. Picking the right candidates, bringing them on board, breaking them in—each step in the process required focus and dedicated resources. But while he was refilling the society's ranks, he couldn't allow the abduction and persuasion strategy he'd laid out to lose momentum. And anarchy among the slayers was not something he would tolerate.

On a lot of levels, O had good qualifications for being a right-hand man. He was committed, ruthless, efficient, clearheaded: an agent of power who motivated others by fear. If the Omega had managed to suck the rebellion out of him, he was close to perfect.

Time to get the meeting started. 'Mr. O, tell the others about the properties.'

The lesser started in on his report about the two tracts of land he'd visited during the day. Mr. X had already decided to purchase both for cash. And while those transactions were closing, he was going to order the squads to erect a persuasion center on seventy-five rural acres that were already owned by the Society. Mr. O would ultimately be in charge of the place, but because Mr. U had overseen building projects in Connecticut, he'd headline the center's construction phase.

The objectives of the assignment would include speed and suitability. The Society needed other places to work, sites that were isolated, secure, and calibrated for their work. And they needed them now.

When Mr. O fell silent, Mr. X delegated the new center's erection to him and Mr. U and then ordered the men out to the streets for the evening.

Mr. O lingered.

'Do we have some business?' Mr. X asked. 'Did something else go wrong?'

Those brown eyes flared, but Mr. O didn't snap. More proof of improvement.

'I want to build some storage units in the new facility.'

'For what? Our purpose is not to keep the vampires as pets.'

'I expect to have more than one subject at a time, and I want to keep them for as long as I can. But I need something they can't dematerialize out of, and it has to shield them from sunshine.'

'What do you have in mind?'

The solution Mr. O detailed was not only feasible, but cost-effective.

'Do it,' Mr. X said, smiling.

CHAPTER 18

When Rhage pulled into the Excel parking lot, he drove right past the car attendants. Even if the GTO didn't have a finicky clutch, he wasn't about to leave his keys with someone else. Not with the kind of weapons and ammo he had in the trunk.

He picked a spot around back, one that was right next to the side door. When he flipped off the ignition, he reached for his seat belt and…

And did nothing with it. He just sat there, hand on the clip.

'Hal?'

He closed his eyes. God, he'd give anything just to hear her say his real name once. And he wanted… damn, he wanted her naked in his bed, her head on his pillow, her body between his sheets. He wanted to take her in private, just the two of them. No witnesses, no half-assed shield of his trench coat. Nothing public, no quickie hallway/bathroom action.

He wanted her nails in his back and her tongue in his mouth and her hips rocking under his until he came so hard he saw stars. Then he wanted to sleep with her in his arms afterward. And wake up and eat and make love again. And talk in the dark about things both stupid and serious—

Oh, God. He was bonding with her. The bonding thing was happening.

He'd heard with males that it could be like this. Fast. Intense. Nothing logical. Just powerful, primordial instincts taking over, one of the strongest being the urge to physically possess her and mark her in the process so that other males would know she had a mate. And would stay the fuck away from her.

He glanced over at her body. And realized he would kill any member of his sex who tried to touch her, be with