Claimed (21 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Zanetti

BOOK: Claimed
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Dage nodded, sliding the door shut after Jase and Talen had jumped inside. “Go.”
The bird lifted into the sky and all eyes focused on the rapidly receding ground. “At your mark,” Dage said.
Conn waited a moment, then pushed a button on the slim control in his hand. A rumble filled the air before the compound exploded. Bricks, bodies, and wood shattered into the sky to fall and litter the earth. Angry black smoke billowed into the air while fire ripped across the buildings, eating everything in a blaze of heat.
Prophet Milner gasped, his eyes wide and his hand at his throat. “You blew up the entire complex.”
Dage smiled without any humor. “Welcome to the war, Prophet.”
Chapter 17
F
ranco tipped his head back, allowing the fifty-year-old scotch to burn his throat. He gazed out the wall of windows in his office set into the cliffs of Baffin Island. The sea, cold and merciless, stared back. Calm, inscrutable but teeming with life he could only imagine. Life outside the walls.
Soon he'd lead his people to a destiny beyond their imaginations.
“Nunavut sucks,” said a churlish voice from the doorway. “I'm not meant for Canada.”
No. The boy was made for greatness. Franco inclined his head, inviting his nephew into the room. “Isolation suits me.”
Kalin stalked inside and dropped into a chair on the other side of the marble desk. “Not me.”
“No. Perhaps not.” Franco settled into his leather chair and took another sip of scotch. His nephew had tied back his black hair, away from his not so pasty face. He'd find it easier than anyone in their race to pass for human—with makeup, and contacts to cover those purplish green eyes.
“I need to get the hell out of here.”
Puberty did suck, if Franco remembered right. “The helicopter and planes are at your disposal.”
Surprise flashed through Kalin's bizarre eyes. “They are?”
God. Who had green in their eyes, anyway? “Sure.” Reaching for a gold coaster, Franco set the crystal down. “I understand your need to hunt. Please keep in mind I like it here, so I ask you to find women elsewhere. Take a weekend in Vegas, one in Omaha, and so on.”
Kalin raised an eyebrow. “You don't mind?”
“Couldn't care less.” So long as dead human females didn't pile up outside his door, of course. “Though you know this is a phase, right? The need to kill does abate.” Well, maybe not abate. But it became honed, focused. Only truly worthy prey caught Franco's attention these days.
Kalin nodded. “Yes. Sometimes I'm already bored with the game. But then I think of the Kayrs family and the fun to come ...” Sharp green dominated the purple through his eyes.
“The Kayrs and their prophesized child.” Franco tapped long sharp nails on the desk. “I had looked forward to her aunt visiting. Before I killed her, of course.”
“Of course.” Kalin cocked his head to the side. “You have another long-term mate in mind, Uncle?”
“Yes.” For years he'd dreamed about hair the color of sunshine and eyes the color of the darkest night. “Someday the prophet Lily will be mine.” She'd bear him many fine sons.
Kalin threw back his head and laughed, the rumbling sound echoing off granite walls. “A Realm prophet as a Kurjan mate? Delicious.”
Delicious—as was the moment when he'd slashed a knife through the throat of Lily's husband. The first Prophet Sotheby. The worthless spiritual leader had actually looked shocked when death arrived. As if prophets couldn't die.
“So if I visit Ohio, shall I stop in on Uncle Erik?” Kalin's eyes focused and his upper lip twisted.
Little prick. “Of course. My brother is the finest scientist alive today.” As well as the absolute worst soldier. “Give him my regards.”
Interest sizzled through Kalin's eyes and he sat forward. “Erik's coming along on the virus, isn't he? I mean, we're that much closer to creating a werewolf slave class?”
Franco nodded. “Yes. He's still fine-tuning it, but I have complete confidence in his results. We already know the bug works on mates. Perfectly.” His groin hardened as he thought of Lily. So fair. So defenseless. No longer mated.
“Excellent. How did the raid this afternoon go?”
“As planned.” Thunder rumbled outside and Franco glanced toward the churning sea. “The king rescued Prophet Milner.”
“Did Kayrs find the locating bug?” Kalin let loose with a grin.
Franco sighed. “Yes. All three of them, in fact.” Lightning lit the sky over the ocean. “It was a long shot, to be sure.”
“I told you so.” Kalin sat back and crossed his arms. “We still have Prophet Guiles, right?”
“Of course.” Well hidden, too. The Realm wouldn't find him. “Anything else?” He had a conference call and he held his contact within the Kayrs organization to himself.
Kalin shook his head and stood. “No. I'll take the plane tonight.”
“Good.” Franco grabbed his drink and took a healthy swallow. “Kalin? Stay away from the Kayrs family. We're not ready to take them yet. Your father will be avenged.”
Sharp canines flashed in the parody of a smile. “No worries. I plan to avenge my father on my own time.” He paused, gazing at the battle waging through the ocean. “Though Janie Belle has a new protector I'd like to hunt.”
“Vampire?” Franco appreciated the boy's ventures into the dream world, even if they hadn't figured out how to use the ability to their advantage yet.
Kalin shrugged. “Maybe. I can't get a handle on him yet.” He strode toward the door. “But I have a feeling killing him will be one of the greatest moments of my life.”
Chapter 18
E
mma tapped her foot against the tiled floor in the lab's communication room while Kane typed furiously on a keyboard, having returned nearly an hour ago. The soldiers had of course reported Devon's break-in to Kane the second he returned. Though she hadn't said a word about her injury.
“Devon was just trying to help a coworker, Kane.” She brushed a curl off her face.
Kane shrugged. “I don't care. He broke protocol and is lucky I just fired him.”
Temper swirled at the base of her skull. “Or what?”
Angry violet eyes met hers as Kane stopped typing. “Do you have any idea how many of our laws he broke in addition to breaching his contract? He's lucky he's still walking.”
“Speaking of which, why in the hell do you have lasers that knock people out?” Of course no one had told her about the security measures.
“For this very reason I designed them to recognize faces ... or attack.”
Emma took a deep breath. She needed Kane's cooperation. “There's really no reason to tell Dage—”
Kane halted her with his palm in the air facing her. “No way. Don't even ask me to keep this from him.” He turned back to the keyboard.
Butthead. Speaking of the king, where the heck was he? She lowered her mental shields and sent out a call for Dage, careful to keep her injury away from her thoughts.
Hello love. Miss me?
His deep voice filled her head.
Relief relaxed her shoulders.
Yes. Is the fight over?
This ability to communicate via thought was handy, and she wondered idly how the brain waves shifted into patterns to send out and receive messages. They'd have to conduct some tests when things slowed down.
Yes. We're on the way home. We didn't lose anyone but do have some casualties. I'll fill you in when I return in a few minutes.
Shields rose again.
Emma nodded and shifted her focus to the screen covering the entire north wall of the room. She'd worked all afternoon on combining werewolf and vampire blood with the right protein, which had shown promise in attacking the catalyst. But something still protected the twenty-seventh chromosome and maybe Moira had the key.
A woman took shape, thick red hair rioting in curls around a face carved from pure alabaster. No sun for that gal. Green eyes narrowed on Emma, and a slow grin tipped generous lips. “So you're the king's mate. I'm Moira.”
Emma gave a short nod. “Nice to meet you. Emma Paulsen here.” Conn's mate was a beauty, no doubt about it.
Moira's grin turned to a full smile. “You haven't married Dage yet, then?” She rolled the
r
s like someone in a Celtic movie.
“No.” Not that he'd asked. “Did you marry Conn?”
The witch lost her smile. “No. Not going to, either.”
Kane's muted, “We'll see about that,” was ignored by both women.
Emma cleared her throat. “So, you're probably wondering why we're contacting you.”
Moira nodded. “Yes. I assume you need a witch for something.”
How in the hell could Emma explain it? “Are you aware of Virus-27?”
“Yes. Conn sent word that vampire mates were in danger.” Moira's lips tightened into a firm line. “I can take care of myself, Emma.”
“I'm sure you can.” Emma smiled. “But, well, we thought you could help with a cure.”
“How?”
Emma shrugged. “I don't know. My niece Janie gets visions, and she thinks you can help with the science.”
Moira tilted her head to the side. “I know about your niece. Some of our seers predicted her birth.”
The breath caught in Emma's throat. Enough prophesying about a little girl. “Why?”
“Don't know. Apparently she's the key to the future—all our futures.” Moira gave a half shrug. “No pressure there, poor darlin'.”
No kidding. “I thought if we sent you all the data on the virus you might see a place to contribute.”
Moira smiled again. “You're a scientist, right?”
“Geneticist.”
A dimple flirted in Moira's flawless skin. “
Ceart go leor
. So you know any contribution I'd make would be in the form of magic?”
“Yes. I was marked by a vampire the other night, Moira. I'm willing to go on a bit of faith here.”
Moira chuckled. “Good point.” She stepped closer to the camera. “What makes you think magic was used to create this virus?”
Emma struggled for a moment. “I don't.” She waited for the truth to piss off her new friend.
A genuine smile met her gaze. Moira gave a quick shake of her head. “Really? Ever study a virus like this?”
“No. But I've also never worried about a twenty-seventh chromosome.” The virus fit the victims.
“Ah.” Moira tilted her head to the side. “If magic is involved here, you're looking for a rather powerful witch who cast the spell.”
“Like you?”
“
Ba mhaith liom
. Er, I mean, Yes.”
Emma's mind calculated the new information. “If magic is somehow involved, how many people across the globe would have the necessary capability?”
“People?” Moira gave a nod to someone off camera. “You mean witches, my sister.”
Inhaling deeply, Emma sought her inner reason. “Witches. And we're not sisters—neither of us married a Kayrs.”
Moira's green eyes narrowed with a focus that could be felt across the globe. “There's a rather strong theory that potential vampire mates are descendants of the fey people, cousins to my people.” She reached for a stack of papers. “Your information just came through—I'll look it over and get back to you.”
Fey people? Unlikely. “You didn't answer my question.” Would Moira help them?
Silence crackled across the space for a moment. “I have no idea how many people could pull something like this off.” Moira stepped closer to the screen, her gaze running over Emma's form. “Exactly what do you think magic is, Emma?”
Uh, hocus pocus? “I don't know. Something about being naked under the moon, goddesses, and pretty spells?”
Moira threw back her head and laughed. “Not quite. What do you know about quantum physics?”
An unwilling curiosity welled up in Emma. “Not much except that it's a modern theory that explains the nature and behavior of energy and matter on the atomic and subatomic level.” She raised an eyebrow. “You've studied quantum physics?”
Moira smiled. “I have several doctorates, one in quantum physics, and I teach at the University of Dublin as well as at a school you've never heard of. On a subatomic level, the right application of energy is able to alter matter, right?”
“Possibly.” No one really knew. “So quantum theory explains magic?”
Moira shrugged. “What do you know about string theory?”
Emma coughed out a laugh. “String theory is a new theory that attempts to reconcile quantum physics with the general relativity theory.” In a nutshell.
“Right. And there are five different string theories that all agree on one fact: that there are dimensions in space and time and everything's connected.” Moira took another step closer to the camera. “These theories are from your scientists, Emma. The experts believe in dimensions—and the possibility of moving throughout them.”
“So you're saying magic can be explained by quantum physics and string theory?”
“Well, those theories plus about nine more your people haven't figured out yet.” Moira grinned. “What's important is that you believe. That's it. Start believing.” She sighed, glancing at Kane and then back at Emma, her eyes darkening. “If you don't mind my asking, where did the king mark you?”
Quite the personal question. But a valid one, considering the witch also had been branded by a Kayrs brother. “On the upper right shoulder,” Emma said, irritated. “You?”
“Front of my left hipbone.” Moira rolled her eyes. “Bloody inconvenient if I want to wear a bikini.”
Emma nodded in commiseration. “Yes. You'd think through the hundreds of years the Kayrs family could've devised a way to mate without branding anyone.”
Moira shook her head. “Oh, Emma. They don't want another way. They
like
the marking.” Her tone turned cutting by the end of the sentence.
“Men.” Emma cleared her throat. She'd love to get a sample of Moira's blood. “So you're another immortal?”
Moira took a deep breath. “Well, mainly immortal. We can die from beheading and burning.” She glanced off camera and then focused back on Emma. “I sent Kane a list of supplies you may need to counter a possible spell—have them ready. I'll read over your information and then work on a spell to counter the virus. Until then,
Slán go foil
.”
The screen went black.
“Good-bye for now.” Emma repeated the one Gaelic phrase she knew. “Moira's beautiful. I can understand Conn's attraction.” Pure spirit shone through those stunning eyes—the witch wouldn't go down easy. She wondered just how strong the greatest soldier claimed by the Realm would need to be if he thought to take Moira out of Ireland.
Kane rubbed a hand over his chin. “Yeah. You ever get the feeling all hell is about to break loose?”
Emma forced a grin. “In the last week I've been kidnapped by a monstrous vampire race, my sister has been knocked up by a vampire prince and I've been branded by a king, who also bites. I've discovered shifters and demons exist, and the niece I've protected since birth is somehow prophesized to do something important by these supernatural beings. I'm also seeking help from a century old witch who looks twenty.” She exhaled loudly. “Hell already has broken loose and shattered reality.”
Kane gathered papers and gestured her toward the door. “On that note, you might want to begin believing in magic. I think we're going to need it.”
Once upon a time the same people who developed the scientific method also practiced magic. She'd have to keep her mind open to the idea of combining the two again. Where in the heck were her old college physics textbooks? In storage with the rest of her belongings, probably. She stepped into the hall and ran smack into Conn still in his combat gear, a rough purple bruise spread across his left cheekbone.
He righted her with gentle hands near the top of her biceps. His gaze met Kane's. “Prophet Guiles wasn't there. We found Prophet Milner and he's being seen to by the doctors right now—he seems fine to me.”
“Any casualties?” Kane asked.
Conn nodded. “All being taken care of.” He dropped his gaze to Emma. “You talked to Moira?” His eyes swirled a pure emerald, much darker than that of his mate.
Smoke and the odd scent of gun powder clung to the air around Conn. Emma stepped back and raised an eyebrow. “Just now. How did you know?”
The soldier gave a short shrug. “I always know where she is and what she's doing. Though I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't say anything.” His smile would've melted a harder heart than Emma's. He turned toward his brother. “Is my mate in danger?”
“Yes.”
“Because she's a mate?” Conn released Emma and stepped back.
Kane tapped his file against his leg. “Yes. Also, if magic helped create the virus, she's one of the few witches alive powerful enough to counteract it.”
The smile sliding across Conn's broad face made Emma nervous and she couldn't help but intervene. “If Moira is that powerful, I'm sure she can handle any danger. Right?”
Conn's shoulders went back even further. “Wrong.” He gave a short nod to his brother, pivoting to stride down the hall. “We find Prophet Guiles, and then I take Ireland,” he called back.
Emma slapped her hands on her hips, rounding on Kane. “You're no help.”
Humor filled his lavender eyes. “Because I agree with my brother?”
Damn it. How could they all be so dense? She tilted her head to the side. “I can't wait to meet your mate, Kane.”
Kane shrugged. “Fate will plan well. My mate will be a logical woman, probably a scientist, who understands the rationale here. I'm not concerned.”
Laughter bubbled up and Emma let it fly. “Oh Kane. If I've learned nothing else this past month, fate employs a wicked sense of humor.” She wiped tears from her eyes.
“Now that's a beautiful sound.” Dage rounded the corner and advanced like a man with purpose. One hand cupped her jaw, and he lowered his head to take.
A buzzing filled Emma's head and heat filled every pore while her tongue tangled with the king's. He backed her into the wall, the cool bricks contrasting with the heated vampire pressed against her front. Her knees began to tremble, and she clutched both hands into his bulletproof vest to keep from sliding to the floor.

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