FALCON: Resistance (KBS Next Generation Book 1) Page 3

Every twenty years or so, he’d moved to a new continent and changed his style so completely that the likelihood of recognition was nil, at least until modern times. The advent of fingerprinting, voice and facial recognition software brought new challenges to anonymity, but there were ways around everything. He hadn’t lived over six hundred years for nothing.

  Jax knew a lot about love. At least he was well-versed in love as he understood it. He loved the way his women smelled. He loved their soft skin, their promising smiles, and the taste of their blood. For Jax, one of the nicest things about being a vampire was the smorgasbord variety of that taste because, no matter how long he lived, no two women tasted the same. But all of them were delicious.

  He loved the process of attracting a woman, wooing her to his bed, indulging in sensual delectability then hypnotizing her so that she had no memory of the pleasure they’d shared. There was one time he’d come across a woman who couldn’t be hypnotized. He’d had to dissolve his physical assets and affect a makeover several years early, two continents away. But most of the time it worked out well.

  His condition was unrecognizable by sight, although he could sense others of his kind when they were nearby. He didn’t have any way of knowing how many others there were. There were a half dozen he’d encountered repeatedly. That wasn’t due to an effect of synchronicity as you might suppose. When you consider that his kind would gravitate to cities large enough to have a night life, that they would likely be out at night when fewer people were about, and that they had hundreds of years in which to repeatedly cross paths, it might not require a leap of imagination to understand.

  Jax did have pale irises. They weren’t completely washed out like creepy deadhead eyes, but they had changed from near black to a very light blue and were sensitive to light. For that reason he preferred nocturnal activities. Even then he wore sunglasses most of the time.

  Fortunately for his attractiveness meter, the tan skin that he had acquired during an unusually sunny harvest season had frozen, along with his age and soft boyish hair.

  For centuries he’d watched the activities of Black Swan and had even discussed them over a ridiculously priced cognac or an ancient bottle of Scotch when he ‘ran into’ one of his kind. For the most part The Order had done a fair job of keeping the deadhead population under control so that Jax could go about his business without giving it any thought. Until recently, when things had begun to get out of hand.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Gretchen Galen had been transferred from the Operations Office of the San Francisco installation when Susan Farnsworth retired. It had happened sometime while Falcon was in ‘recovery’. He smirked at the term because, so far as he was concerned, it was a euphemism for ‘lost his mind’.

  Once he was cleared to return to duty he’d intended to run a routine errand to the O.O. When he got there, instead of finding Farnsworth as he’d expected, he found an auburn-haired beauty with exotic amber-colored eyes that froze his tongue in his mouth and his feet in his tracks. She wasn’t cute like Genevieve. She was hot without trying to be. Not because of big hair or stage makeup or revealing clothes. She was hot just because that was the way the gods had made her.

  When she looked up and smiled, his stomach got that floaty feeling you get sometimes when an elevator descends too fast. When she asked if she could help him, he practically turned and ran. The last thing he needed was a new obsession who worked in the Operations Office. Falcon wasn’t the sort to take a road that ended in trouble twice. No sir. She’d just have to make some other poor devil’s heart beat too fast. She could take that smile and light up some other fool’s life.

  Gretchen had been at Jefferson Unit for two weeks before Kristoph Falcon walked through the door. At heart she was a serious career woman as was demonstrated by the remarkable resumé bullet point of having been made Director of Operations at Jefferson Unit at just twenty-five years old.

  She was so professional that, when she’d been offered the position, she remained upright and confined emoting to a dignified smile and half a blink, even though in her mind she had collapsed to the floor and was kicking her legs while emitting a noise that sounded like, “Squeeeeee!”

  In the two weeks since she’d been there, she’d interviewed a dozen people for the assistant’s job, become acquainted with several people close to her age who worked in the medical unit, gotten to know the Sovereign, met some of the knights and some of the trainee helpers, and settled in. She liked her apartment and was excited about being close to New York though she hadn’t yet made it into the city.

  That was something that would have to wait until she’d hired and trained an assistant. Until then she’d be working seven-day weeks.

  “Galen!” She looked up to see the Sovereign standing at the threshold. “Daydreaming again?”

  Sovereign Glen Catch may have looked older than she did, but his file said that he was chronologically two years her junior. His file also said that he’d done a lot of hard living. She’d already assessed his management style and figured out that he was that rare administrator who knew how to balance performance demands with people skills.

  “No, sir.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well, um, not exactly.”

  He laughed. “We’ve been lucky enough to get temporary duty from a team from Shanghai. We need to find a place to put them, beds and a table for dinner. Only one of them speaks English.”

  “What’s the budget?”

  “Budget?”

  “We don’t have any place to put overflow. We’re booked up. That means we’re going to have to spend some money and manufacture temporary quarters. Build walls. Hang doors. Buy beds. Lay claim to one of Monq’s offices maybe.”

  “One of Monq’s offices? We don’t house people on that level.”

  “I know, but full is full. You have a better suggestion?”

  After a few beats, he shook his head. “No. Not really. Let me know if he gives you any trouble.”

  “Okay.”

  “You think you can handle the Chinese team?”

  “I know some Mandarin.”

  “Yeah. Me, too. Some can be lifetimes away from enough.”

  “Tell me about it. We’re desperate, huh?”

  Glen took on the look and tone of reprimand. “You’re overstepping, Operations. You’re not cleared to know just exactly how very, very, very desperate we are.”

  “I understand, sir. When do they arrive?”

  He looked at his watch out of habit more than anything. “Thirty-four hours.” She whistled. “Make it work,” he said as he tapped the door jamb and disappeared.

  She got busy right away looking at floor plans, searching for the best place to squeeze in another four beds. But her mind drifted back to the knight who’d practically turned and run as soon as she’d asked his name. There was something about the way his dark eyes widened and flashed when he saw her that gripped her by the solar plexus. He’d looked around the room like he was on the verge of panic.

  It seemed she never got tired of wondering what she’d said to make him disappear like that. She decided that, since it was a niggle that wouldn’t go away, she’d do some research after she figured out what to do with the Chinese.

  As it turned out, her first thought was the best fit. Monq had thrown a fit, which was not the least attractive on a man his age.

  “You can’t take two of the offices!”

  “Why?” she’d asked. “They’re not being used.“

  “Because they’re mine. That’s why. Is it an emergency?”

  “Sort of?”

  “What in tarnation does ‘sort of’ mean?”

  “It means that the decision to eke out space for the overflow of an additional team of knights didn’t originate with me. I’m just following orders.” Monq opened his mouth. She held up her hand. “And that means you need to take it up with the Sovereign if you have a problem.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Young lady, I’m sensing that you’re not afraid of me.”

&n
bsp; “You want me to be afraid of you?”

  “Enough to guarantee respect. Yes.”

  “I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, Dr. Monq, but I have to find housing for knights and you’ve got the only space available. I understand it’s a temporary solution. When the crisis is resolved and the Chinese knights on loan go home, you can have your two unused offices back.”

  He harumphed, turned, went into his private study, and slammed the door.

  She sighed then withdrew her phone from the pouch attached to her belt and called maintenance to meet her.

  A hour later she grabbed a sandwich from the Hub and took it to her desk.

  The afternoon duty trainee was waiting for her.

  “Here’s the list,” he said.

  “Thank you, um…”

  “Maldonado. Max Maldonado.”

  She smiled. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

  “I’ve been in intensive for the last couple of weeks, but don’t worry. I worked here before when Director Farnsworth was here. I know the job.”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t worried. Thank you for taking care of things while I was out.”

  “Well, I didn’t really do anything besides make a list, but you’re welcome. And welcome to Jefferson Unit.”

  “Thank you.”

  She sat down at her desk and started through the list. It was routine, but time consuming. Funds transfers. Travel arrangements. Medical supplies. By the time she was finished, it was the end of business hours. She glanced up at the extra large clock on the wall and wondered if someone had wanted to make the point that every second can either be productive or not. Regardless of whether or not that was their intent, that was the message she got.

  Maldonado had studied quietly at the trainee’s desk until four, then he’d politely said goodbye and left.

  Alone and with the day’s assignments complete, she closed the door and sat down to see what she could find out about Sir Flee, which was what she’d been calling him in her head.

  Since she didn’t know his name, she had to pull up the files of every knight in residence, one by one. Sir Kristoph Falcon was number thirty-two.

  As soon as she saw his sullen but handsome face, she said, “Gotcha!”

  She spent the next half hour reading. It seemed her instant fascination had been justified. Sir Flee wasn’t just any knight. He was extraordinary in so many ways. She memorized the names of his teammates and resolved that, the next time one of them stopped in, she would find a way to ask about him.

  Three days later Rolfe Wakenmann stopped by the Operations Office to move some money so that he could pay for his younger sister’s college tuition. He stood at the counter and watched Gretchen move from her desk to the counter computer.

  “Well, hello,” he said with a smile that left no doubt he was expressing interest.

  “Hi there. I’m Gretchen. And you are?”

  “Rolfe Wakenmann.” He checked himself and decided to add, “That’s Sir Rolfe Wakenmann,” just in case she might mistake him for an upper level trainee.

  “Well, Sir Knight. What can I do for you?”

  “I haven’t seen you here before.”

  “The former director retired.”

  “Farnsworth’s gone!?!”

  Gretchen laughed. “You make it sound like that’s an utter impossibility.”

  “If you knew her, you’d understand why I think that. You sure she’s not coming back?”

  “Never say never, but for now her plans are to be someplace other than here.”

  “Wow.”

  “Uh-huh. And you were saying that you need…?”

  He leaned on the counter. “A date. Tuesday lunch?” She shook her head. “You married?” She laughed and shook her head again. “Taken in some other way?”

  “I’m on my own, Sir Wakenmann. And plan to stay that way.”

  “Come on, you gotta eat.”

  “What I gotta do is help you with what you need so I can get back to work.”

  “Tough, huh?”

  “Far from it. Look, if you’re not going to tell me why you’re here, then maybe you can help me with something else.”

  With a lopsided smile, Wakey said, “Name it.”

  “You’re partners with Sir Falcon?”

  Wakey’s jaw dropped. He stood up straighter and scowled. “Should have known. He got here first, huh?”

  “Not exactly. He came in and asked for Farnsworth. I told him she retired then he practically ran out of here without telling me what he wanted.”

  Wakey shook his head and chuckled. “Pus…” His eyes went wide when he realized he’d almost used unacceptable language in front of a new staffer. While he was recovering from a near step into sewage, his brain put it together.

  Falcon had come into the Operations Office at some point and must have felt like the nightmare that almost cost him his knighthood was about to repeat itself. And there was only one reason why he would think that. He was interested in Operations Gretchen.

  To sweeten the pot, it seemed Gretchen was equally taken with Falcon. She wouldn’t be asking about him otherwise. That was when he hatched a plot to reacquaint Kris Falcon with the joys of interactions with the opposite sex.

  “He’s, um, cute, huh?”

  Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. Caught.

  “My interest was purely professional.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t said or done something to offend.”

  Wakey stared at her for a couple of beats and then laughed. “Ms…” he looked at the triangular name plate on the counter, “Galen. Guys who are that sensitive are not gonna make it to be vampire hunters. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t because you said the wrong thing. Promise you that.”

  “Okay. Good to know.”

  He leaned on the counter again, smiled, and lowered his voice. “So. You want me to find out why a healthy young male would run from a woman sexy enough to be a centerfold?”

  She smiled. “Does that line work for you?”

  He shrugged, bobbed his head, and showed her a goofy grin. “More often than you might think.” She laughed. He reined in the teasing smile, but amusement still danced in his eyes. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “If you’re saying we’re definitely not lovers, you wanna be conspirators?”

  She studied him as she tapped a nail on the counter nervously. “Are you the sort of person I can trust to not make a fool out of me?”

  “Look, gorgeous, here’s the facts. I think you’re a dream, but Falcon isn’t just a friend. He’s had my back every day and night since we were thirteen years old. I wouldn’t do anything that I didn’t believe was in his best interest. Right now he’s in a get-back-on-the-horse kind of situation.”

  She looked down and blew out a breath. “I’m going to choose to believe that metaphor isn’t also an innuendo.”

  “It’s a free country,” he replied casually. “I’ll work with you on this because my friend needs to overlay a bad experience with a good one.”

  “You can’t help yourself, can you?” He looked confused. “Innuendos.”

  He leaned in. “You sufferring from a dry spell? ‘Cause it seems like everything I say turns sexy in your pretty head.”

  “I don’t need to tell you that’s none of your business. I can tell by the look on your face you already know that and are enjoying yourself way too much.”

  “Well, life is short. Gotta take your pleasure where you can.”

  “A sound philosophy. If you’re a player.”

  “Or somebody who knows every day may be his last?” All of a sudden the banter had turned serious. “Ugh. Look what I went and did. Ruined the mood.”

  “No. You, ah… I…”

  “There’s nothing to be said to that. Is what it is. Bottom line is, I’m gonna help my boy hook up with you. Then you’re both gonna want to erect a statue in my honor.”
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  That earned him a small smile. “I really do want to know why he came into the office that day. It’s my job to take care of you guys.” Wakey grinned. “In a clerical way.” Wakey nodded. “Speaking of which, did you want my help with something?”

  “Oh. Yeah,” he said like he’d forgotten why he’d come to the O.O. in the first place. “Need to shuffle some money. My little sister is starting UCLA. She wants to study chemical engineering.”

  “You’re paying for her school. That’s awful nice of you.”

  “It’s nothing. She’s the brains in the family.”

  Gretchen knew for a fact that all the knights were off-the-charts smart, but if he wanted to suddenly play humble, she wouldn’t quibble. She suspected his ego was already well-padded.

  “So why don’t you come to dinner with us tomorrow night? It’s actually more like brunch for us because we’re up pretty much all night, but we still call it dinner. We eat right before we go out. I can introduce you to my teammates, let them know you’re new in town and just getting to know everybody.”

  “Is that something you’d normally do? Invite a newbie to dinner?”

  “Honestly, no. But only because the opportunity doesn’t come up often. Don’t worry. The cover story is entirely plausible.”

  “Entirely plausible,” she said drily. “I’m trusting you.”

  “You can trust me to do what I say, but understand this. If you screw my partner over, in any way, you’ll regret the day we had this little tête-à-tête. If you ask around you’ll find out I have a reputation for revenge pranks. Some good. Some bad. Some ugly.”

  “Dinner and a threat. Hmmm. How could I say no?”

  He laughed. “Meet me at Mess Door at seven.”

  “Okay.” She was already getting nervous.

  “Don’t get nervous. You’re just a new staff member looking to get to know the personnel. That’s all.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

  “You good?”

  “As gold.”

  When the transaction was concluded, Wakey turned to walk away.