the bed and arranged herself in a sexy pose. Her mind was spinning its wheels, dismayed. This was bad. No moment of sexual bliss when he was distracted to stick him with the earring, at least not until a fully armed PSS operative was looming over the bed, watching every move, gun in hand. Ah, shit.
She had her limits. She had to kill him right now. No choice.
“By the way, you will fuck him afterward.” Georg’s eyes had gone beady and hard. “He deserves a treat. For having found you.”
All the blood in her body suddenly congealed. “But I…only want to be with you,” she said, her eyes big and beseeching. “Do I have to—”
“You must do as I tell you.” Georg’s tone was falsely gentle. “You will rule at my side, Tamara, but never forget who is in charge. I like to watch. And you are the one I like to watch.” His lips twisted into a thin, lopsided smile with a strange flash of hatred in it. “I know you love it. I’ll make sure you’re satisfied every day. After you satisfy me, of course.”
Her smile tightened into a grimace of disgust. And she thought things had been bad with Kurt. There was always further to fall.
She had to kill him before Hegel arrived.
She forced herself to smile and held out her hand. “You understand me so well,” she said throatily. “Most men would be intimidated by that, but not you. It takes complete mastery of self for a man not to be afraid of a woman’s true desires.”
Georg’s chest puffed. His eyes glowed with self-satisfied vanity. “Yes. I have mastered myself, Tamara. And I will master you.”
She held out her hand and fluttered her eyelashes. “Y-y-yes,” she whispered. “Come to bed. I’ve been waiting so long.” She held her arms up, pleading. Longing to be mastered.
His eyelids quivered. A primal part of his brain sensed a trap, but his vanity and madness were stronger.
He sat down on the bed. Tam wrapped herself around him, legs straddling him, and leaned her head upon his shoulder, arms clasped around his neck. He had an alien, bitter scent to his fishy-textured skin. Her hair stuck unpleasantly to his damp flesh.
“You are fortunate that I found you when I did,” he said.
“I wish it had happened sooner,” she murmured softly. “I’ve been alone so long.”
“I searched harder when old man Novak found out you were alive. He was irritated with me. Sent my emissary back to me in a cardboard box. Some of him, anyway.”
“How horrible,” she whispered.
“Not a problem,” he assured her. “It just speeded up an inevitable development.”
She lifted her head to look curiously into his face and grasp the earring beneath her concealing fall of hair. “What development?” she said automatically, just to keep him talking while she unsnapped the stem and got the hypodermic into position to stab into his throat…
“He’s a walking corpse,” Georg said, with satisfaction. “Rotted with cancer, but he refuses to die. It doesn’t matter. I have plans.”
Her fingers froze, the mini-hypodermic poised oh-so-close to the skin of his throat. “Oh?” she asked casually. “What plans?”
Georg laughed. “I could just wait for the inevitable, but my claim to his business interests would be clearer if I assassinate him first. And now he threatens my woman. It’s time to show the world who is the new boss.”
Imre. The thought was accompanied by a stab of despair for what this meant for herself. Imre’s chance. “When? Soon?”
His lips twisted in an indulgent smile. “Why so curious?”
She looked up at him archly through her lashes. “The man wants me dead.”
Georg stroked her hair, grabbed a handful, and wound it tightly around his fist, pulling until tears started into her eyes. “You have nothing to fear from him now,” Georg assured her. “Not now that you’re with me. Nothing can touch you. Nothing will get near you. You are mine.”
“Of course I am, but please. Indulge me,” she coaxed. “Can it be soon? Can I come? Can I help? Please tell me you’re going to include me in these adventures. I’m not the stay-at-home type.”
He laughed. “It’s one of the things I love about you, my blood-thirsty vampire queen. Soon. I can make it soon, if you prefer it.”
“Oh, yes,” she breathed, all excited. “I prefer it.”
Something inside her screamed in protest at what she was about to do to herself. She let the hand with the hypodermic drop, sliding the tiny device between her middle and ring finger.
No, no, no, the fifteen-year-old girl inside her sobbed. Don’t make me do this. Not again.
But she had to. This was the perfect scenario. A gift of fate—for Val and Imre, if not for her. But having a hateful, foul-breath goblin jerking and heaving on top of her while another watched, salivating for his turn—that had not been part of the bargain.
Oh, God, no. She couldn’t face that. Not again. Not now.
It’s only temporary, she told herself, not for the first time.
Hah. Temporary was a fictitious concept. Time was not linear, and she was not made of metal or gemstones, much as she wished that she were. Kurt, Georg, Drago Stengl, they had all been temporary, and even so, they had warped her almost beyond redemption.
For love? Could she? She thought of the look on Val’s face when he talked of Imre.
Love? Like he’ll love you after this, if he ever really did. He’s just a man. You can’t. There’s only so much a woman can bear.
But it was the only way. If Rachel was going to have any sort of mother—even one like her—this was her best chance to survive. To be inside the attacking force, provide information to Val from within, create a diversion during a rescue attempt—it was streamlined, it was perfect. It made sense. It beckoned to her as the intelligent, practical solution. And if she managed to kill Georg in the process, so much the better.
Her arms tightened around him. “Why’s he taking so long?” she complained.
“He’ll be here soon. He’s dealing with that agent. Maybe Janos is taking longer to eliminate than Hegel anticip—”
Crash. The door burst open. Val took in the tableau on the bed, and dove toward Georg. His grimace of rage made his face almost unrecognizable.
Georg flung her away from himself with a hoarse shout. Tam rolled off the bed and thudded to the floor.
Val leaped on top of him. Crack, a pistol in Val’s hand connected with Georg’s face. Blood spattered and flew, along with a couple of teeth, arcing across the coverlet. Georg’s leg whipped out, his foot connecting with Val’s jaw. Val spun away, bounced off the wall, and came right back at him with a roar, crashing into him. The two men toppled off the bed and grappled on the floor, Val on top.
A smashing blow to the nose, and Georg lay limp,
