Chapter Twenty-four.

"Is she still out?" Laurent asked.

Colin glanced across the seating area of the plane's luxurious cabin. The other Prime was buckled into a plush chair opposite the couch where he was seated with Mia. She was lying with her knees drawn up and her head resting in his lap. The pilots were behind the closed c.o.c.kpit door, and there was no one else on board.

He'd been gazing at her worriedly for a long time, running his fingers through her dark curls. Until Laurent spoke, he'd only been aware of the silky texture of her hair and the muted roar of the jet engines as they flew northeast.

And worry. He was very much aware of aching, desperate worry.

"Is she going to be all right?" Laurent asked.

Fear knotted in Colin's gut, and a hint of primal jealousy began to creep into his emotions. "Why would you care?"

Laurent raised his cuffed hands dismissively. "Oh, please. You have nothing to worry about from me on her account."

"You came after her," Colin reminded Laurent.

"That was just business. She's too dangerous for my taste, my friend." He tilted his head to one side, studying Colin. "You do know that she's dangerous, right?"

Colin looked back at Mia with pride. "We like them dangerous."

"Dangerous females are liabilities. Dangerous mortal women are even more dangerous. Mortal women with psychic gifts-that's the world turned inside out, upside down, and really, really sick, my friend. Youare going to ditch her once we're inside the old man's place, right? Or at least put a collar and leash on her, if you plan on keeping her."

"I'm keeping her," Colin growled.

"I know you've been forced into that, and I know you don't like it. You can't trust her, and she's taking us into a lion's den. You better keep an eye on her, and you better keep her under control. If you're going to be her keeper, take a lesson from how we Tribe Primes handle our mortal women."

It would have been tempting to get up and hit the Manticore Prime, but no Clan Prime would strike a helpless prisoner. Laurent probably knew that, and so felt he could say whatever he wanted with impunity. And he seemed genuinely disturbed by Mia's gifts, which amused Colin. But Colin also found the Manticore's att.i.tude very disturbing.

"And how is it you treat your mortal women?"

Laurent heard the danger in Colin's tone, and backed down a bit. He shrugged. "They make nice pets, I'm told. I wouldn't want to keep one, myself. A night and a bite with as many pretty ones as I can score, that's how I relate to the mortal herd."

Laurent's words made Colin squirm. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing a warped reflection. He was no different than a Tribe b.a.s.t.a.r.d, when it came down to what was really important. A strong shudder ran through him, and he tasted bile.

Laurent laughed softly. "I see that you know exactly how I feel."

"I knew I should have put a gag on you," Colin said.

The Manticore frowned and rattled the cuffs. They both knew that he could pull them apart any time he wanted, but Laurent was willing to stay in his role as vampire prisoner for the sake of his tribe's agenda.

Perhaps he had some honor, after all. No-even though some of the tribes had been forced into less vicious behavior in the last century, the Manticore were not among that group. Laurent's actions were motivated by greed, and probably fear of his pack leader.

"Justinian trusts you to do the job, does he?" he asked.

Laurent laughed softly. "Justinian would never be fool enough to trust anyone completely." He nodded toward Mia. "Unlike some people I know. When she turns on you, remember that I told you so."

This conversation was going nowhere. Besides, Mia was beginning to stir to consciousness, and the plane was beginning its descent.

"h.e.l.lo," he said when Mia lifted her head. She groaned, and he helped her sit up very slowly. Her skin was still a little cool to the touch, and there were dark circles under her eyes. "How do you feel?"

Mia put her hands over her face and mumbled, "Head. Hurts."

If it would just fall off and roll gently away, she'd be perfectly happy. Who wanted a head, when it felt like this?

Colin put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Do you feel kind of blank? Like the inside of your mind is stuffed up? Mental congestion?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

She managed to turn her head just far enough to give Colin a scathing look. "Good?"

"That means you didn't suffer any permanent brain damage, and you'll be better soon."

Ahh, soon-good. Then, "Braindamage?"

She heard nearby laughter, and decided that it came from Laurent. Then she realized they were on the plane. They must be on the way to Colorado, though her memories stopped back at the airport parking lot.

Colin patted her arm rea.s.suringly. "You just overloaded a few psychic circuits with your tantrum. With a little rest and a lot of training, you'll be fine." "You've done the same thing," she concluded.

"When I was a kid, yeah."

Mia didn't like the implication that he considered her psychic gifts somewhere in the juvenile range. Then again, she had a raging headache, so she couldn't objectively conclude if he was being insulting, or if she was just cranky from the pain.

"Is the plane landing?" she asked.

"Yeah. Looks like you woke up just in time."

Just in time? She scrubbed her hands across her face. Just in time for- Oh, yeah, she had a role to play.

Mia sat up straight and disengaged herself from Colin's embrace. She noticed that Colin didn't try to stop her. In fact, when she glanced at him, he'd put on the distant persona once more. She did her best to look cool, calm, and competent, even with a raging headache and worries about whether this was the right thing to do. And whether she and Colin would ever- "Heads up," Laurent announced from across the aisle. "We're going wheels down."

"What are you doing here?" Henry Garrison asked Mia. He then pointed a bony finger at Colin. "Who is he? How did you get in here?"

The old boy wasn't happy. But then, Colin doubted that Garrison was ever happy about anything, maybe just less annoyed from time to time. There was a sour anger in him that permeated everything around him. While the room was large and well lit, Colin had the sense of being trapped in a small, dark s.p.a.ce with a hungry rat.

He didn't know whether to feel sorry for Mia, that this was her eldest living relative, or worried about the flawed genetics of his future offspring.

He had only seen Garrison at a distance the night he'd helped destroy the research facility, but Colin recognized the thin old mortal, though not the pair of unmoving bodyguards who stood watch behind him. They hadn't been among the mercenaries who'd hustled the Patron onto the airplane he'd escaped on.

There was a wide desk between the old man and where Colin and Mia stood. The only thing on the desk was an open laptop computer. Its matte silver case stood out in stark contrast to the ornate wooden desk, gilt-framed floral prints on the walls, Oriental carpet, and dark velvet wing chairs that made up the room's furnishings.

Somehow, Colin didn't think the Patron was the sort for Victorian decor. This suggested that Garrison had moved in hastily, taking over the remote old mansion sight unseen, and hadn't had the time to make many changes. So hopefully the security system wasn't up to modern standards yet, either. Every little weakness would help in shutting the Patron's operation down permanently this time.

Colin had taken careful note of every step of their movement into the heart of Garrison's compound. Security was tight, but there were obvious weaknesses. The small airport where they'd landed was several miles away from the site, which lessened the Patron's chance of easy escape. This place wasn't as isolated as the facility in Arizona had been, either. There was a perimeter fence and guards at the entrance, but this was no fortified camp. And there was only this one building, though it was huge. When they'd come in, Laurent had been taken down a staircase off the main hall. Colin guessed that the Manticore Prime was now locked in a bas.e.m.e.nt room.

He and Mia had been brought up a sweeping staircase with an ornately carved bal.u.s.trade to this room at the end of a long hall. A heavy door had been shut behind them, and they'd come face to face with the querulous Henry Garrison. "Well?" Garrison demanded when he wasn't answered immediately.

Colin and Mia were standing side by side, like kids called into an angry princ.i.p.al's office, but they weren't touching. And Mia didn't look at him when she took a step forward.

"You asked me to bring you a specimen."

Garrison waved her words away impatiently. "I changed that plan. Weren't you informed?"

"I changed it back."

Colin almost smiled. His Mia was not one to be intimidated; he looked forward to watching the old man try to put her in her place.

Instead, the old mortal smiled. It was a thin, grudging, brief movement of his lips, but a spark of real humor lit his cold eyes for a moment. "Apparently you inherited some of my strong will," he told his great-granddaughter.

"I don't know if it comes from you or not," was her answer. "We don't know each other, but we do have a common cause." She gestured at Colin. "We have Mr. Faveau's organization in common, as well."

The name Faveau had been chosen at Tony Crowe's suggestion, Tony being the mortal vampire hunter expert. The Faveau were a family that still hunted, had always hunted, and the name would be known to someone who had grown up in the hunter society of the last century.

"Faveau?" Garrison spared Colin a long, searching look. "You don't look like a Faveau."

"You haven't seen a Faveau in three generations," Colin answered coolly. "We don't all marry our hunter cousins these days.

Times have changed, Mr. Garrison. It's time that hunting methods change, as well."

Garrison looked back at Mia. "Why have you brought him here?"

"I wasn't as prepared to capture a vampire on my own as you and I a.s.sumed. I needed help." She took a deep breath before she admitted, "I would have gotten killed if the hunters hadn't rescued me. I owe-"

Garrison cut her off. "What you owe them is hardly my concern."

"They want to help," Mia told him, "and they have skills to offer."

"Ms. Luchese told us about your research project," Colin said. "We propose an alliance. We have information to exchange; we've been studying samples of the vampire daylight drugs we've managed to obtain from their clinic in Los Angeles."

That got Garrison's attention. He steepled his fingers, trying not to show any excitement, but Colin could tell that the old mortal's hands were shaking a little.

"Oh, really," Garrison murmured. "You have samples, data?"

"Yes. But we don't have the resources and facilities that Ms. Luchese tells us you do. We have similar goals, Mr. Garrison. We should work together. We even brought you a captured subject as a goodwill gift."

The old man sat back in his high-backed leather chair, and thought for a while. "This could prove productive," he said at last. "The data I'd been gathering for years was recently destroyed. I've disliked the idea of starting over."

"Then let us combine our research," Colin proposed. "The results could put an end to the parasites that prey on humanity, forever." Mia gave him a brief glance that said he'd gone a bit over the top with this last statement, and Colin agreed with her. But Garrison didn't take any note of the melodramatics.

"I'll think about it," he said. "I'll definitely think about it. We'll talk again. It's late now." He looked at Mia and said, "Go to bed, child."

Colin wondered if the old man meant for his gruff tone to sound grandfatherly.

"Show these two to guest rooms," the Patron ordered one of his guards. "You did well, Caramia," he said as the guard led them toward the door.

Much to Colin's surprise, Mia flashed the old man a shy, delighted smile before stepping out into the hall.

"Thanks, Grandpa," she said.

Chapter Twenty-five.

Thanks, Grandpa,Colin repeated over and over with growing alarm as he paced from one side of the third-story bedroom to the other.Thanks, Grandpa?

He so disliked being away from Mia. Disliked? h.e.l.l, he was growing close to frantic. Bondmate c.r.a.p, he told himself, tempting him to be unprofessional. He had to stay on the program, follow the procedure they'd set up. So far they hadn't encountered any contingencies they hadn't planned for.

Except-Thanks, Grandpa.

What had she meant by that? Was her Garrison blood kicking in to lead her to the dark side?

It didn't help that he couldn't feel her thoughts at the moment. He was aware of where she was, by the blood connection between them. He knew her scent on the air, and the sweet surge of her heartbeat from every other mortal's in the building. But he didn't feel the essence ofher, and he missed it.

He knew she'd be fine in a little while, that the numbness would wear off. But in the meantime, the separation made him realize just how much a part of him she'd become.

And it wasn't even the horniness that bothered him the most. Oh, he hungered for the touch and taste and responses of her body, as he always did. But he missedher. Her voice, her laughter, the conversations they'd been having, in between fights.

And it seemed like the arguments were growing farther apart, the conversations closer. He missed talking to Mia. There was so much about her he didn't yet know, despite the psychic and physical bond between them.

For example, what did she mean byThanks, Grandpa ?

The words grated on his senses, set off warning bells of paranoia. Suspicion.

He should have gagged Laurent.

And what about Laurent? Colin looked at his watch. Had the Manticore broken out of his cell yet? Even though he was only a Tribe Prime, Laurent was still Prime. He could take care of himself.

But Mia was only mortal. And as tough and resourceful as she was, it was his duty as Prime, and his right as her bondmate, to be her protector.

Bondmate.For the first time, Colin smiled. He knew it was a sloppy, sentimental smile, and was glad he was alone as the unfamiliar romantic feeling came over him. This was no time for him to show vulnerability; he had a job to do.

Speaking of which, this had gone on long enough to give Laurent time to escape and to destroy any new research material down in the labs. Colin's job was to make Garrison forget about vampires; Mia's was to retrieve the laptop to give to the Manticores.

Then they were going to leave. It was a simple, nonviolent, gentle, peace-loving-stupid!-plan. Colin didn't believe for a minute that it would go down so easily, and he was sure Laurent didn't, either. But Matri Serisa had approved it.