Act of Surrender Read online

  His thoughts drifted back to the woman from his most recent nightmarish vision. He certainly did not see this woman in a fatherly light at all. His cock still ached with need just from reflecting on her image. The cruel irony being there was a distinct possibility he’d dreamed her up.

  He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. His fucking mind was even turning on him. As if he hadn’t been through enough as it was. Now he had to deal with possible hallucinations?

  What next?

  Asking would only mean he’d get an answer and the Fates liked to mess with people. He clearly had a target on his back as far as they went. They were having a ton of fun at his expense as of late.

  The girl from his bizarre dream had felt real enough. She didn’t seem invented. If she was real, she was in danger. His visions weren’t to be taken lightly. Destiny was an odd bird. He learned never to take it for granted. It tended to carve out a person’s path far in advance. Whenever James was given a vision of what a person had in store for them, it was never as simple as it being spelled out. No. His visions were impressions, fast flashes, a strange sense of knowing and sometimes cryptic symbols.

  Those were the worst.

  The more he thought upon it all, the more he was sure it wasn’t some invented dream. It was real and she was in serious trouble. He didn’t know who, or what, but something or someone wanted the girl dead. Panic welled in him and his hard-on dissipated. The overwhelming urge to find this woman and protect her at all costs swept over him, taking his breath from him. He had to strain to draw in air as he sat there, knowing there was no real way to find her. He didn’t have a clue if she was real, let alone who or where she was.

  His hands shook and he had to take a break, closing his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. There wasn’t anything he could do for this stranger until he had more information. If there was anything he knew for certain about his supposed gift, it was that it revealed the truth of the matter in its own time. It couldn’t be rushed. He’d have to wait until it showed him more. That or he’d need to stumble upon the woman. Unlikely to happen since he rarely left the labs or his office. Finding her would not be easy.

  “Talk about a needle in a haystack,” he murmured. The sudden, undeniable urge to speak with his newly acquired chatroom friend came over him. “I need to talk to GothGirl.”

  He stared at his computer screen, desperately wanting the woman he’d come to know only as GothGirl to log in so he could speak to her and hear her sweet voice again. It had been nearly twelve hours since they’d last spoken. Seemed like forever. He was supposed to be gathering information on her for PSI. He’d not been very successful. At least not on finding out anything of importance. He did know all her online gaming preferences, her favorite color, that she loved it when it rained and that she could hack just about anything. He also knew she had a big heart. He’d discovered she liked to look after homeless veterans in her area. She’d only specifically mentioned one of them, but he knew from the way she spoke that she cared for many.

  He could relate to that burning drive to help the less fortunate. To see to their needs and expect nothing in return. That was the way it should be. Those who gave their time and money only for photo-shoot opportunities or write-ups in papers were shameless.

  GothGirl wasn’t like that. He’d had to coax the information from her, and she was understated when telling him bits and pieces of what she did for the homeless near her.

  He knew she was a good person. Regardless what PSI officials suspected. He knew better.

  A smile touched his lips. He knew other little things about her. Details he considered special but his captain would find useless. It had been only a week since he’d been ordered to look more into a hacker an enemy of PSI had a strange interest in. PSI had techs who did that sort of investigation all the time, but even though they operated daily and dedicated their lives to mastering the virtual realm, they’d failed—epically—to make contact with the target.

  GothGirl was smart.

  Too smart for the computer geeks and the technology analysts on PSI’s payroll to catch. They were probably still scratching their heads, and dusting off their keyboards, wondering how the hell some girl had managed to leave them chasing their tails. And boy, had she. James had heard all about the digital runaround she’d given the men.

  He laughed at the thought of it all.

  When James’s captain, Corbin Jones, had held a briefing, telling the men that their raid on the facility James had been held prisoner at had yielded intel on several persons of interest, one being a hacker, James had perked up, curious to hear what was going on. But Corbin had glossed over the information on the young woman, moving quickly to the next order of business. The captain hadn’t had much in the way of details, and seemed more interested in other people they’d found information on within the Corporation’s files than the hacker. James’s body had different ideas, though, building and driving a powerful need for him to learn more of the hacker.

  Unable to let the moment pass him, James had forced Corbin to return to the previous topic—the hacker who had caught the eye of PSI. His teammates had groaned as if he were that guy—the one who made the teacher return to a boring topic they didn’t want to hear any more about.

  In a way, that was exactly what he’d done.

  Something deep inside him wouldn’t let this pass by. When he’d learned that PSI’s very own tech squad had failed to gather much beyond the hacker’s screen name and that the person was indeed a she, he’d found himself volunteering to do more to track her online. Saying he was intrigued was putting it mildly. James had become obsessed and still was.

  Corbin had been skeptical. Rightfully so. Yes, James had more skills with a computer than most of his teammates—especially Duke Marlow, who was a luddite in serious denial—but James wasn’t a programmer or anything of the like. With a few questioning glances, the captain had given the assignment to James. And James had spent the last week trying to balance his actual job duties with the mission he’d volunteered for. As head physician at the division branch, he never lacked for something to do. Yes, the facility had other doctors on staff as well, and all were very good and exceptionally qualified, but they all answered to James.

  A pang of guilt washed over him as he thought of the person-of-interest. Though, within a few hours of launching his own investigation into her, James had stopped seeing her as that—a POI. She was funny, smart, and he found her incredibly sexy—despite the fact they’d never met in person and he didn’t know what she looked like.

  “You are hung up on a girl who you don’t really know and who doesn’t really know you.” He grunted, slightly embarrassed by his behavior as of late. “Wait until she finds out you’re a werewolf and you work for a secret government agency. Oh yeah, she’s going to love you.”

  In his week on the case he had managed to do what the tech geeks couldn’t. He’d not only made contact with her, but he’d been engaging in long, drawn-out, deep discussions with her in private chat rooms. He had a hard time believing she was anything PSI needed to be concerned with, but he’d seen the files. He knew she’d managed to gain the attention of the Corporation, leaving them looking into her, trying to mine for information on her. And if that evil empire had their sights set on her that meant PSI needed to know more about her. Corbin wanted to know if she was friend of foe. If she was working with the Corporation or against them.

  It had taken him less than an hour of talking with her to know deep in his bones that she wasn’t the enemy. Though, labeling her a friend to PSI would have been a stretch.

  Of course, telling the captain he didn’t feel like she was a bad guy wouldn’t really fly. He needed more to go on.

  Proof.

  And that was exactly what he planned to gather. Proof. Though, it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. Far from it. GothGirl wasn’t the type who warmed up to just anyone. He couldn’t blame her.

  She seemed to believe the government was out to screw
everyone. She probably wasn’t entirely wrong. James had been alive enough to see countless administrations come and go. They all had one thing in common—the quest for power. There was a lot to be said for the saying “If a politician’s lips are moving, they’re lying.”

  Most didn’t have a fucking clue what was really go on in the world. They were power-hungry figureheads who thought they understood what real power was, but had none over what really mattered. A few knew of the existence of supernaturals. Most of those humans who did know thought they were in charge of the situation. That they could manage the supernaturals and keep them leashed. That was laughable. Other politicians were actually supernaturals hiding in the open—maintaining a life in the public eye, hiding what they truly were and fully understanding what the hell was happening in the world around them.

  Chaos.

  So it was difficult to fault GothGirl for being anti the Establishment. The jury was still out if he was as well. For the last decade he’d sure stood against what it all represented. Now he was back and part of it, hopefully part of the solution, not the problem, but only time would tell for sure.

  He wished he had something in the way of control over his Fae side so that he could reach out mystically and will GothGirl online. Being born with small bits of Fae in his pack line, James could normally sense magik on others faster than most shifters. He’d also had limited abilities in the persuasion side of things. He couldn’t wipe humans’ memories or anything that full Faes were often capable of, but James had been able to push out suggestions that humans felt compelled to take. The gift had come in handy over the years. Even that particular gift seemed off late. Everything with him did. He’d lost trust in himself and that was a scary thing for a special operative.

  Come online, he silently pleaded.

  His screen blinked and then chimed, announcing the arrival of GothGirl in the chat room. James didn’t believe for a second he’d really had anything to do with her coming online at that very moment. It was merely a coincidence. Nothing more.

  He waited for what felt like forever with as anxious as he was to talk with her, before she finally sent an audio chat request. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t have issued the request but he didn’t want to appear needy to her. He answered the request and grabbed his wireless earpiece and microphone, excited to be able to speak with her again. His entire body seemed to respond to the idea of getting to hear her once more.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” she said, her voice sultry yet young sounding. She had moxie—he admired that about her. She was an interesting mix of fire and ice, carefree yet reserved in other aspects. He enjoyed the mystery she presented.

  From the way she talked, she’d been on her own for a long time. If he had to hazard a guess, she’d been a street kid, and he knew from experience the streets were not kind to anyone, let alone the young. The kids learned at early ages to avoid putting trust in anyone. The longer they spent on the streets, the harder they were to crack. GothGirl had probably been on them for longer than most.

  She’d assured him she was twenty-two, and he had to admit he felt a bit like a dirty old man finding her attractive since he was over four hundred years old. James wasn’t like some supernaturals. He didn’t dwell in the past, yearning for a time long ago. He liked progress and embraced new technologies. He didn’t cling to old ways, or every custom from his motherland. Not that he really had a motherland to speak of. The pack he’d been born into was nomadic and hadn’t tended to put down roots for long. Probably why James never grew too attached to anything in his long life.

  They hadn’t been big fans of showing affection or giving a shit about their younger members. You either survived or you didn’t. The weak were weeded out and the strong remained.

  Immortality left him looking like he was mid-to late twenties, but some days he felt as old as time. Felt like he’d seen and done too much to find joy in anything. GothGirl changed that. She made him feel young again.

  Made him feel alive.

  Made him laugh.

  Made him look forward to whatever interactions, even if only short-term, that they could have.

  “You do realize that I may, in fact, be less than pleasant to look at,” he said, taking a seat on the stool in his lab. His leg wasn’t fully healed from his time as a prisoner of the Corporation, and he had a hard time standing for long periods.

  “Oh, you’re a hottie. I can feel it,” she said.

  “Sure,” he returned, not really thinking of himself as a catch.

  Women found him attractive, but he never understood why. He lacked the arrogance his teammate Duke had. Striker, another of his teammates, also believed himself to be the gods’ gift to women. Corbin was more understated in his sexual appeal—like James. Malik, a teammate who was still on forced leave to clear his head, was very secure in his ability to charm the pants off the ladies. Boomer was a different story. There was a certain vulnerability to him that women found irresistible, and Boomer did nothing to discourage the attention.

  “I can hear you doubting yourself,” she said, her voice light. “I’m telling you, I know I’m right. You’re a hottie.”

  “What about you? Do I get to guess what you look like?” he asked, his mind suddenly trying very hard to make her look like the woman from his vision. He pictured her hair long and dark with purple streaks running through it. Her eyes nearly dark as midnight and as captivating as well. Like normal, whenever he spoke to her his body responded, humming with desire, with the idea of having more than just conversations with her.

  “Sure, but I bet you get it wrong,” she said with a sharp outtake of air. “Plus, I’m not really bombshell material. Just a heads up.”

  He doubted that very much. In his mind, she was the sexiest woman alive and he wanted to shout at her to recognize that.

  Slow down there, buddy, your wires are all crossed because of what was done to you. Don’t let that mess with your better judgment.

  “But I can sense that you’re a looker,” she said with energy that was infectious.

  It took him a second or two to gather his control again. Something he seemed to lose a lot whenever anything to do with GothGirl came up.

  “One way to know if you’re right or not,” he persuaded. Part of his mission involved gathering as much intel on her as possible, and that included a picture. He felt like an ass continuing to pursue the mission in regards to her. James liked the woman. More than liked her. He wanted to get to know her more than he wanted information on her to pass to others. He wanted to put a face with the voice. “And I’d like to see you.”

  “Patience, grasshopper,” she said. “I’m still considering it from the last time you asked. You know, about thirteen hours ago.”

  Something baser in him was on the verge of pushing too far to get a glimpse of her, and he worried if he dared let that side of himself out, he’d scare her away for good. She’d go to ground, and if PSI was lucky, they’d find her before the Corporation.

  If not…

  He didn’t want think on that. He couldn’t. He’d spent months held captive by them and knew what sick sons-of-bitches they were. Donavan Dynamics—or the Corporation, as they were more commonly known—was about as bad as they came, but by all outward appearances they were pillars of the community, leaders in the search to help rid mankind of disease.

  Bullshit.

  They were nothing more than mad scientists bent on creating a super race and ending humans for good. Funny the lies humans believed when money was involved. They thought the Corporation was there to help them. In truth, if the Corporation had their way, humans would be nothing more than food for supernaturals.

  Cattle.

  “Did I lose you?” GothGirl asked.

  “No. Still here, tripping over my own thoughts.” He ran his hands over the keyboard before him, wondering again what she looked like. He had real mysteries to solve, yet he found himself obsessing over what some hacker looked like.

  “How are the nightmares?�
� she asked, trepidation in her voice.

  James stiffened. He’d not told his teammates that he was suffering from nightmares. They worried enough about him as it was. He didn’t want to add to it all. Seemed as if they took turns checking in on him. He wasn’t really sure why he’d confided the truth of it all to her. “I managed to get some rest after we finished talking this morning. Then I had to haul my tired ass into work.”

  “Work blows,” she said with a snort. “Or so they tell me. I’m not really one who has what another would call an honest profession.”

  “You’re really a cat burglar, aren’t you?” he questioned, already knowing she was a hacker.

  “Guilty.”

  He smiled and realized he did that a lot whenever he spoke to her. She had become something of a lifeline to happiness for him.

  You’re lying to her to gather intel on her, he reminded himself. When she finds out, she’ll drop you in a heartbeat and probably never surface on the grid again.

  “Making any headway in your research?” he asked. She’d told him bits and pieces of what she was working on. He’d filled in the blanks on his own. She was painting a huge target on her back as far as the Corporation was concerned.

  “Oh yeah. A lot. I accessed another server from the Evil Giant whom I shall not name,” she said, making worry lance through him. “I’m running my decryption program on it now. I should have something juicy within twenty-four hours. How is work going for you? Any luck with the samples you were looking more into?”

  He’d confessed to being a doctor, but he could sense that she hadn’t believed him when he’d told her as much. “Not really. Sort of stuck in a rut with them. I’m thinking I can’t see the forest for the trees right now.”

  “Step back and take a breather then, LabLupus,” she said, using his screen name. “I should call you Doc Wolf. Means the same thing, huh?”