Blood Debts (The Blood Book 3) Read online

  “You said you needed blood.”

  “Yeah, drawn with a syringe into a sterile test tube. God, how long have you been living in antiquity?”

  Too damn long. He sheathed the blade and rolled up his sleeve, proffering his arm without a word.

  She still looked spooked, like she’d run if he turned his back. “It’s just for carving,” he said to put her at ease. “I carve wood when I get bored on bed rest.”

  Amelia didn’t look convinced. She nodded toward the back of the lab. “Over there, please. In the seat.”

  Gabriel sat in the chair, noting the metal restraints built in. “Manacles, Dr. Chase?” he said. “Careful, or I’ll start getting all kinds of naughty thoughts in my head.”

  When she came to him with a tray of instruments, she was wearing a white lab coat, gloves, and a glare. She sterilized his arm over a vein and poked a long needle into it, letting blood drip into a vial. At least she hadn’t tied him down. “This is for typing,” she said when the vial was full. She closed it, shook it, then set it aside and attached a tube to the needle in his arm. “This will be for more extensive tests.”

  “Bleeding me dry?”

  “Not yet,” she said. “Though later, you might do that all on your own.”

  Gabriel smiled. “I’m not worried.”

  “Oh?”

  “I know you wouldn’t let me die like that.”

  She put a soft rubber ball into his hand. “Squeeze this every five seconds.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Amelia checked everything, then went to a station far to his right and put the small vial of his blood into a machine. From beneath the table, she pulled out a couple of bottles and a small bag. She returned to him and gave him one of the bottles. “Fluids and sugars, so you don’t faint.”

  Not likely, but he was getting a little thirsty.

  She clinked her bottle against his. “Here’s to insanity.”

  “Cheers,” he said.

  The bag turned out to be cookies, which she nibbled on while waiting for the blood bag to fill. She sat hunched on a tall chair, swinging her legs like a kid. How easily she put him from her mind. This wasn’t the Amelia who’d yelled at him last night and clawed his arm bloody. She was a stranger now, an apathetic machine performing a task. And he felt like an insignificant slab of meat on her exam table.

  It shouldn’t have bothered him.

  It still did. So he decided to do something about it. “Don’t I get a cookie?” he teased.

  “No.”

  Gabriel frowned. “How come?”

  “This is my breakfast,” she replied.

  “Not a very healthy one.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s all I get, seeing as there was a lunatic squatter loose in my lab when I was preparing a proper one and I didn’t get the chance to finish.”

  “Oh, sure,” he said. “Blame it on the house guest. It’s all their fault. I’m beginning to think you don’t want me here.”

  Amelia raised an eyebrow at him. “Thank you for stating the obvious.”

  Now he scowled. “Did it ever occur to you that I might be of use?”

  She chuckled. “Oh, this I gotta hear.”

  “I can fight.”

  “I don’t have any enemies.”

  “I am strong.”

  “You’re the heaviest thing in this complex. The rest I can lift by myself.”

  How quickly she’d demoted the qualities that made him a famous champion in Rome, loved by the bloodthirsty crowds, and adored by the lusty women, to nothing more than a quirk of his genetic make-up, and just as appealing.

  “I’m good with computers,” he said. True. And with all the computers she had here, he could keep himself amused for weeks, making it easier for her to do her job. The little patches transmitted something? He could make her a receiver that could pick up on those soft signals from other planets.

  Amelia shrugged. “Good enough to lock me in here until you decide to release me. Not impressed.”

  Well, then there was only one thing left. His favorite. “I can make your toes curl with a kiss.” He could do a hell of a lot more than that. He could make her wild with want; tease her until she begged him to fuck her. He grew hard just thinking about it—stripping her of that cool indifference and inhibitions, until she clawed him and bit him; anything to get some relief.

  “Got a boyfriend for that,” she said, the faintest blush stealing across her cheeks.

  “Liar.” Gabriel satisfied to see cracks forming in her professional mask. The good doctor wasn’t as aloof as she liked to pretend. He could use that.

  “Am I?” She hadn’t met his gaze and it occurred to him he could make this whole process a hell of a lot more enjoyable. For both of them.

  “Either that, or your boyfriend lets you travel on your own and live here all by yourself. Guy like that doesn’t deserve a woman like you. Wouldn’t know the first thing to do with you.” Her blush intensified, making his heart beat double time. Yes, this was the true Amelia, not the automaton she pretended to be.

  “I’m here and he’s not. His loss.” And Gabriel’s gain. He reached out to touch her rosy cheek, not in the least deterred when she moved out of the way. “Must be lonely here all by yourself. Are you sure you can’t find some use for me? I have so many.” He could make her arch like a cat to his touch. “In the bedroom…” He could become an addiction she’d never rid herself of. “In the kitchen…” He could make her so craven for him that one heated look would make her wet and needing. “Here…” The posh Roman ladies had taught their favorite whore well. “Any way you can think of.”

  Amelia sighed. She hopped off her chair, put the bag of cookies on his stomach and dusted off her hands before she reached for gauze to wipe away the blood that had trickled out around the syringe in his arm.

  Gabriel wouldn’t let her hold anything back. And when he finally fucked her, he’d do it so hard and long she would forget all her past boyfriends. She would scream his name when she came. Over and over again. “And some you’d blush to imagine.”

  She removed the needle and put pressure on the puncture mark with one hand, while she manipulated the plastic bag of his blood onto a cart with the other.

  “Nothing to say? No witty remarks, Dr. Chase?” Gabriel’s knuckles were turning white. He opened his hand and let the rubber ball drop to the floor. “I guess your silence will have to be enough, then. I know you won’t admit it, but I’ll bet your heart beats a little faster.” His was drumming a primal beat that demanded he snatch her down and taste those pouting lips.

  She put an adhesive bandage on his arm and brought his wrist up to bend the elbow.

  “Bet that lab coat is starting to feel hot, isn’t it, Amelia?” He wanted to tear it off her. See her in nothing but those sexy glasses on her nose. “Your hands look unsteady,” he noted. He wanted to feel them on him, his imagination already running rampant with the feel of that cool touch on his overheated skin. He’d take his time melting her until she burned. Until she seared him—and he knew she would. This woman would brand him forever. “Tell me, do you ever crave, Amelia?”

  Her gaze finally snapped up to meet his, her eyes burning bright blue.

  Gabriel’s eyes followed the smart line of her nose to her parted lips and stuck there. “I do,” he said.

  Chapter 6

  “I crave all the time,” he said staring at her mouth, and Amelia almost melted.

  Heart beating faster? Yep, quite a bit.

  Lab coat feeling hot? Heat crawled up her spine, making her cheeks burn. It was all she could do to keep from panting.

  How the hell did he do that? Was she really that desperate and deprived? Amelia hadn’t been born yesterday. Hell, she’d spent most of her life in a male-dominated field, and then New Alaska, where over ninety percent of the population was male. She knew exactly what to expect from men and how to guard against it.

  But Connors just had to go all deep-voiced and intense, and years of
training flew directly out the window.

  “And what does a man like you crave?” Her voice was breathy, her mouth was dry, and she was talking stupid. Why was she encouraging him?

  He frowned, and then raised those chocolate eyes to look into hers again. Amelia felt invaded by his steady stare. As if he could see through her, right into her soul. She’d never felt so exposed before; not even around Hunt, who’d willingly admitted he could read minds.

  What was worse, Connors knew it, too. His mouth quirked in a brief, wry smile. “It would only scare you.”

  “I don’t scare easily.” Liar!

  “Neither do I,” he replied.

  Now, why did that sound like a promise?

  Losing it. Amelia shook her head and turned away from him to deal with his blood. The small amount in the vial she’d gotten earlier was separated into components and being analyzed for anomalies. It would give her a better picture of his health and chemical make up.

  The unit of blood she’d drawn would be used later for more tests. Tomorrow, maybe, she could draw another unit or two for when he started bleeding out of his ears. For now, she put what she had into a cooler to keep it from clotting and becoming useless.

  When she went back to her computer, Connors followed. “You really do have a nice lab,” he said. “Bit cold, though.”

  “The thermostat is voice-activated,” she said. “Feel free to turn the heat up.”

  “Oh, I will,” he said.

  Moments later, the lab was sweltering and Amelia was deep in research mode. It tended to happen when she got really focused on her work. Everything else ceased to exist. She’d missed meals before; had gone entire days without food because she’d been so preoccupied with her latest project that she hadn’t noticed the passage of time.

  As she browsed the restricted databases for the necessary compounds on one computer, and typed in a code to piece together a formula on another, Amelia easily fell into the natural rhythm of her work. This was what she loved; what she excelled at. Being presented with a problem and coming up with a solution, even if it meant creating and overcoming several other sub-problems in the process.

  Her research into the biology and traits of the black panther was fascinating. The name was an umbrella term for three separate species of animals: the jaguar, the leopard and the cougar, all of which could produce offspring with black pigmentation. Amelia read reports on all three and, based on its size, Panthera onca, the jaguar would be the best fit for Connors.

  Matter could neither be created, nor destroyed. While several scientific theories have challenged this law in the past, and some managed to succeed, it was one of several unquestionable rules in the game of shape shifting. Nature would only allow the bending of so many of her rules before she struck back.

  In theory, Amelia had the basic formula to give a human being the ability to change his shape into another living being. In practice, however, certain species were incompatible with each other.

  Early DNA tests have shown anything other than another mammal was not a viable option. Beyond that, size was another factor. The closer an animal specimen was to the subject’s size and weight, the better the chances of success. Survival, however, was another matter all together. Not even Amelia could predict that.

  There were three zoologist researchers currently in possession of numerous strains of Panthera onca DNA. Two of them used these samples in conjunction with a breeding program to keep up a healthy population of jaguars in their habitats. Each individual was tagged and its DNA recorded, along with specific data about them, including age at time of tagging, sex, weight, and special characteristics.

  Of those two databases, one was run by the man who had supplied Amelia with all her DNA samples in earlier trials. Dr. Matthias was meticulous about his record keeping, often following individual animals throughout their life and recording detailed histories. As far as sources went, his was the most trustworthy.

  There was only one problem. Amelia couldn’t be sure Dr. Matthias could keep a secret when it came to the government. Hunt’s success was a secret from everyone. Her superiors had demanded her research notes in exchange for Hunt when she’d decided to leave New Alaska. They might spend years and decades trying to decipher her notes, only to discover they all led to a dead end and no solution.

  The knowledge Amelia had, in the wrong hands, could prove catastrophic. She’d learned long ago how little value human life held these days. She could not risk anyone in any way involved in these studies to be recruited by people in power. Whether of their own will or against it.

  No. She couldn’t risk contacting Dr. Matthias again.

  Instead, she set to searching the other database for a viable specimen. It was a painstaking process of reading copious inconsequential notes and observations, wading through a mess of records cataloged by location, rather than species, and unsearchable.

  By the time she got through the last of it, her notes listed five different DNA samples by name and serial number, and she sent an informal request for them, and six others from her alias account. Many scientists had the equivalent of a stage name, which they used to market their consumer products, while their true names and credentials were only used for government contracts. The government allowed this, and looked the other way so their employees could make a decent living on the side and feel less like lowly slaves to dictatorial tyrants.

  No sooner had she sent off the request, than her computer turned off.

  Amelia gasped. “What the—”

  “You’ve been at this for hours.”

  Connors! “Are you crazy? You can’t shut off a machine like that!”

  He shrugged, completely unrepentant. “Sure you can. You just flip a switch.”

  The other computer, the one decrypting her formula was still running. Her shoulders slumped in relief. Thank God, at least he hadn’t touched that one.

  “You should take a break,” he said.

  “I thought you were in a hurry.”

  “I thought you didn’t care.”

  He pushed her e-pad aside and set a steaming plate of pasta in front of her.

  “Where did this come from?” It smelled so good her mouth watered for a bite. Creamy Alfredo sauce, pieces of chicken perfectly baked and still juicy. Amelia always overcooked it and made it dry as dust.

  “I told you, I have my uses.” He was grinning.

  Amelia had been gone for months. There was nothing in her kitchen that hadn’t come prepackaged and preserved in some way. “Where’d you get the ingredients?”

  Connors rolled his eyes. “I called for delivery.”

  “I didn’t hear the door bell.”

  “Yeah, exactly. You were too busy being mesmerized by the shiny numbers on the screen. I told you I was making dinner. Did you hear me?”

  Amelia leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest. “If you don’t like the way I work, you’re more than welcome to take your jewels elsewhere.”

  He ducked his head, but Amelia saw his smirk. She shrugged. Not like she meant to be subtle about the double entendre. “Eat. You must be starving.”

  “I’m perfectly fine.”

  As if on cue, her stomach growled loud.

  Amelia rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

  Connors shook his head and perched on the corner of her desk. She was surprised it didn’t crumple beneath his massive weight. “Angel, your stomach’s been growling for the last two hours.”

  “Don’t insult my intelligence with your nicknames. My name is Amelia. Dr. Chase should do fine for you.” God, was that real cream and cheese on that pasta?

  Don’t stare. Don’t stare!

  Too late. His big, callused hand came into her field of vision. He picked up the fork and twirled some pasta onto it before he speared a piece of chicken. “Open wide,” he cajoled, raising the morsel to her lips.

  Amelia shook her head.

  “Come on, just a bite?”

  “I�
��”

  He pushed the fork past her lips and she had to take it, or make a pig of herself.

  “—will not be fed like a child,” she finished around a mouthful. Heaven. The sauce was delicious. The flavors melted in her mouth, became more complex with the scent. She could almost taste truffles in there. She glared at Connors. “I hate you.” She loved this.

  “Duly noted,” he said, already offering another bite.

  It was so good, Amelia almost forgot herself and let him feed it to her, too. At the last second, she stopped his hand and took possession of the fork. “Fine, I’ll eat.”

  *

  For five hours Gabriel watched her work. She’d been so focused on it she hadn’t glanced up from the computers once. He had told her he’d be cooking dinner. He’d also asked her what she was in the mood for. Something hot, maybe? Nothing.

  He could have called in an army of chefs and set up a stove right in front of her nose and she wouldn’t have noticed.

  But now she put the same kind of concentration into eating. Amelia was in rapture over a simple pasta dish; something he’d cooked a thousand times before because it was quick and hearty. She smelled every forkful before she put it in her mouth, as if she savored the scent, and she hummed with each bite.

  Watching her lips close around her fork was by far the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.

  “Where’d you learn how to cook like this?”

  “Huh?” Gabriel shook himself. “Uh, college. My roommate was a culinary arts student.”

  “Really? What did you study? No wait.” Amelia took another bite. “Computers, right?”

  “Nope,” he said. “Want to guess again?”

  Another bite. She sighed this time, as if it was too much goodness to bear. Ten seconds passed before she came to herself again and remembered they were in the middle of a conversation. “First tell me how you know so much about computers.”

  Now this will be a one-two-three approach.

  Like the combos I taught you. Left, left, right. Right?

  Har-har. Pay attention, or next time we spar I’m going for blood.