Distantly, he registered the sound of booted feet coming toward him - several pairs, belonging to sizable males, vampires all of them. Muted voices buzzed above him as he suffered out the sudden, debilitating assault on his mind.
It was a trap.
The bitch had led him there deliberately, knowing he'd follow her.
"Enough, Renata," said one of the Breed males who'd entered the room. "You can release him now."
Some of the pain in Nikolai's head subsided with the command. He glanced up in time to see the beautiful face of his attacker staring down at him where he lay near her feet.
"Strip him of his weapons," she said to her companions. "We need to get him out of here before his strength returns."
Nikolai sputtered a few ripe curses at her, but his voice strangled in his throat, and she was already walking away, the thin spikes of her heels clicking over the field of cold concrete underneath him.
Chapter Two
Renata couldn't get out of the warehouse fast enough. Her stomach roiled. A cold sweat popped out along her forehead and down the back of her neck. She craved the fresh night air like her last breath, but she kept her stride even and strong. Her fisted hands held rigidly at her sides were the only outward indicator that she was anything but calm and collected.
It was always like this for her - the aftermath of using her mind's crippling power.
Outside now, alone in the alley, she gulped in a few quick mouthfuls of air. The rush of oxygen cooled her burning throat, but it was all she could do not to double over from the rising pain that was coursing like a river of fire through her limbs and into the center of her being.
"Damn it," she muttered into the empty darkness, rocking a bit on her tall heels. Taking a few more deep breaths, she stared at the black pavement under her feet and focused simply on holding herself together.
Behind her came the swift, heavy shuffle of booted feet from out of the warehouse. The sound drew her head up sharply. Forced a look of cool apathy over the hot tightness in her face.
"Careful with him," she said, glancing at the slack bulk of the big, nearly unconscious male she'd disabled, and who was now being carried like felled game by the four guards working with her. "Where are his weapons?"
"Catch."
A black leather duffel bag came sailing at her with barely a warning, heaved toward her by Alexei, the appointed leader of tonight's detail. She didn't miss the smirk on his lean face as the heavy duffel full of metal crashed into her chest. The impact felt like the pounding of a thousand nails into her sensitive skin and muscles, but she caught the bag and swung the long strap up over her shoulder without so much as a grunt of discomfort.
But Lex knew. He knew her weakness, and he never let her forget it.
Unlike her, Alexei and her other companions were vampires - Breed, all of them. As was their captive, Renata had no doubt. She'd sensed as much when she'd first seen him in the club, a suspicion confirmed by the simple fact that she was able to take him down with her mind. Her pyschic ability was formidable, but not without its limitations. It only worked on the Breed; the more simplistic human brain cells were unaffected by the high-frequency blast she was able to mentally project with little more than a moment's concentration.
She herself was human, if born slightly different from basic Homo sapiens stock. To Lex and his kind, she was known as a Breedmate, one of a small number of human females born with unique extrasensory skills and the even rarer capability to successfully reproduce with those of the Breed. For women like Renata, ingesting Breed blood provided even greater strength. Longevity too. A Breedmate could live for some long centuries with regular feedings from a vampire's nourishing veins. Until two years ago, Renata had no idea why she was different from everyone else she knew, or where she might belong. Crossing paths with Sergei Yakut had quickly brought her up to speed. He was the reason that she and Lex and the others were on guard tonight, prowling the city and looking for the individual who'd been asking around for the reclusive Yakut. The Breed male Renata found at the jazz club had been so careless with his inquiries all night, she had to wonder if he was trying to provoke Sergei Yakut into coming to him. If so, the guy was either an idiot or suicidal, or some combination of both. She'd have her answer to that question soon enough.
Renata took her cell phone out of her pocket, flipped it open, and speed-dialed the first number on file. "Subject retrieved," she announced when the call connected. She gave their location, then snapped the phone closed and put it away. Glancing over to where Alexei and the other guards had paused with their limp captive, she said, "The car's on the way. Should be here in about two minutes."
"Drop this sack of shit," Lex ordered his men. They all released their grasps on the Breed male, and his body hit the asphalt with a jarring thud. Hands on his hips, fists framing his holstered pistol and a large hunting knife sheathed on his belt, Lex peered down into the unconscious face of the vampire at his feet. He pulled in a sharp, disapproving breath, then spat, narrowly missing the blade-sharp cheek below. The foamy white glob of his saliva landed with a wet splat on the dark pavement not an inch away from the man's blond head.
When Alexei glanced up again, there was a hard glint in his dark eyes. "Maybe we should kill him."
One of the other guards chuckled, but Renata knew that Lex wasn't joking. "Sergei said to bring him in."
Alexei scoffed. "And give his enemies another chance to take his head?"
"We don't know that this man had anything to do with the attack."
"Can we be certain he didn't?" Alexei turned to stare unblinkingly at Renata. "From now on, I trust no one. I would think you'd be as unlikely to risk his safety as I am."