Claimed (22 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Zanetti

BOOK: Claimed
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The outside door slammed from Kane's rather quick exit.
Dage lifted his head, eyes swirling with sparks of color. “Miss me?”
For answer she stretched up on her tiptoes to run her tongue along the cord of muscle in his neck. Salt and power exploded on her taste buds and she sighed, rubbing her nose against his heated skin. “Yes.” She relaxed and stepped back to survey him head to toe. “Any injuries?”
“No.”
Copper scented the air and an odd twinge vibrated from the king's calve. “Then why is your leg bleeding?” She frowned, beginning to bend.
Strong hands at her elbows kept her in place. “'Tis nothing.” He cocked his head to the side. “What's wrong?” Sucking in a breath, he centered them both in concentration.
Emma raised an eyebrow, her gaze meeting his. “Ah, nothing. In fact, we made excellent progress today. The scientific kind.” Could he feel the vibrations from her stinging knee?
Sweet dimples flashed in a predatory face. “That's good news, love.” He lost his smile and a frown descended between his eyes. “You're in pain.”
“No. I'm fine.” She took a step back. Oh this was so not going to be good.
Dage gave a low growl and bent at the waist, yanking up her pant leg. His lids lowered as he gazed at the blood seeping through the white gauze. “What the hell happened?”
Emma shrugged, trying to pull away. “Nothing. Really, I'm fine.”
His shoulders tensed and he unwrapped the bandage with gentle hands to study the wound. “Ouch. How did you get hurt?” Burning silver eyes lifted to pin her with fury. “I'll kill Kane.”
A trembling set up in her stomach. “No. He wasn't in the lab—he had gone to town for more supplies.” She wouldn't let anyone else get blamed for this.
“You were cut in the lab? Which lab?” Dage's voice dropped to a hoarse rumble that had her back stiffening.
“The clean one.” She glanced toward the door. “I need to get another bandage.” And escape from what appeared to be a livid vampire.
Dage stood, put his wrist to his teeth and ripped open his skin. He pressed his vein to her mouth. She hesitated for a moment, then giving in, she closed her lips over his flesh, a low murmur of pleasure escaping as that loaded liquid slid down her throat. A buzzing set up in her ears. Stars swirled before her eyes. With a soft sigh, she released him, glancing down at her knee. The wound closed into healthy pink skin with no pain—almost as if the king's blood held a painkiller in its powerful depths.
She licked her lips. Maybe she was turning into a vampire.
Dage took her hand and strode into the office, where he punched in a series of code on the computer. An image of Lab Four came into view. Another series of code and the video reversed until she watched herself help Devon. Dage stilled to stone next to her.
He lifted his head to pin her with a gaze. “You ignored protocol?”
“Yes.”
“Were you going to tell me about the human?”
The way he said the word
human
irritated her. “I was considering it.”
Without a word, Dage grabbed her hand again and began stalking down the hall. She could either jog along or fall on her ass. He pushed open the heavy metal door to the armory, shrugging out of his vest with a roll of strong shoulders, fury choking the room. Various knives and guns found their homes on different shelves.
“I should get back to work.” She fought the urge to flee, channeling the adrenaline pumping through her veins into the will to remain still.
Night shot through the light silver of his eyes, turning them a pure blue closer to black. “You think you're going back to work?” His gaze pinned her in place as he awaited her answer, the muscles bunching under his skin. “What are the chances you're infected?”
She'd seen a myriad of color combinations in those eyes, but that one was new. Her rough swallow echoed in the deadly silent room. “They're slim. I mean, I have no idea what the beaker contained.”
“How many beakers broke?”
She shrugged. “At least five.” Worrying about it would accomplish nothing.
“Did any of those contain the virus?” Concern and anger swirled together in his deep voice.
“Yes.” Saying the word out loud punched concern into her belly. She couldn't get sick. Who would find a cure for Cara? “I took tests. We'll know for sure in twenty-four hours.” Her lungs inflated as she sucked in air. “I need to go—I have a virus to cure.”
“To cure.” He repeated her words without infliction, his face hardening to stone.
Dread pooled in her abdomen. His quiet calm was scaring the shit out of her. “Yes. I'm only doing what needs to be done here, Dage.” Why couldn't he understand that?
“You. Putting yourself in danger.” He studied her as if seeing her for the first time, his jaw clenched so tight it had to hurt. “It's all about you, isn't it? Finding a cure—facing any danger. All on your own.”
As quick as that, her temper spiraled to life. “Yes. The man works for me—I had a duty to try and save him.” Probably a serious miscalculation. It wasn't wise to piss off the king.
Awareness flashed across his hard face. “I've handled this entire situation poorly.” He spoke mildly to himself as if she were no longer part of the conversation.
“Um, I don't understand.” She certainly hadn't expected an apology.
His gaze refocused on her face and one broad hand manacled her arm. “No. You don't.”
She had no choice but to follow him from the room and down the long hallway. “Care to explain?”
“Yes, that would be best,” he agreed, opening the door and all but dragging her into the bright sunshine. For a moment his large body blocked out the sun. “I thought to ease you into this life, to prepare you for the battles to come.”
Sunshine burned her eyes when he moved, and she shifted her gaze to the dark forest. “Yes, well. I should be prepared for this war.” What the hell was he getting at?
He gave a sharp shake of his head, striding down the path toward the residence facility. “No. I thought you'd come to understand this life in a logical manner, one that makes sense.” Birds chirped happily above and the wind rustled strong pine through the trees. “I was wrong.”
Enough of this crap. She jerked her arm free and rounded on him, her tennis shoes kicking up dirt. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
No kindness or softness remained on the king's face. Determination settled hard across those unyielding features. “Our mates are the reason we breathe, the reason we live and fight.”
Okay. He was pissed she'd ignored safety protocols. “I understand—”
“No.” A dark flush worked its way across his high cheekbones. “I learned a long time ago when something or somebody threatens your family, you strike fast and you strike hard.”
As did she. “Of course.”
He clasped her arm again, stalking forward through the trees. “Your stubborn, willful, and untrusting actions continue to threaten my mate. My family. This need to court danger ends now.”
He wouldn't allow her to jerk free, just kept striding toward the building emerging into sight. “Let me go.”
He swung her around and pinned her against the rough wooden siding next to the door, once again blocking out the sun. “No.” A flash of fury broke through his stone façade to be quickly smoothed out. “You're restricted to the family quarters.”
Her anger rose to match his. “No way in hell. I need to continue to work in the lab.” Her mind sought reason, a way to make him see logic. “You're the king—it's my duty and you damn well know it.”
He lowered his face to within an inch of hers. “I have made it abundantly clear it's the man who claims you, not the king. You should've listened. Your sole duty is to me and me alone.”
Butterflies winged through her stomach and temper threatened to explode out of her. “You arrogant ass.”
His hand circled over her neck, effectively immobilizing her. “For a smart girl, your instinct for self-preservation is sorely lacking. Heed my warning, Highness. Don't push again.”
Her eyes opened wide even as he tapped his earpiece, cocking his head to listen. “I'll be right there.” He slowly straightened, his hand sliding down her neck to the center of her chest. “This discussion is over, love.”
A haze pounded down over her vision as a fury she'd never known whipped through her. Her knee shot upward and only inhuman reflexes kept the king from having his balls rammed to his throat.
Quick as a whip he lashed out, grasping her arms and tossing her over his shoulder to stride inside the building, passing the guards and issuing orders. “I want two guards on the door to my quarters. My mate remains inside.”
She lacked time to struggle before the doors opened and he maneuvered to the bedroom where she flew through the air and landed on the big bed. She bounced twice, too stunned to speak. Quick strides had him again through the living area, the doors sliding shut and the click of a lock snapping into place.
Emma ran forward and tugged on the doors. Son of a bitch. She'd kill him.
Chapter 19
D
age settled into the leather chair, getting damn tired of the conference room. His gaze focused on the prophet sitting across the slate oval table. Puffy wrinkled bags perched high on Milner's cheekbones and his bony shoulders slumped more than usual. A deep red gash marred his neck while his eyes had returned to their normal chocolate color. Dage cleared his throat. “When will his blood tests be finished?”
Kane glanced up from the printout in his hands. “A few more minutes.”
Milner sat forward. “You think they injected me with the virus?”
Lily patted his spotted hand, her own pale and so small. “I'm sure you're fine, Samuel. The virus doesn't impact vampires.”
Dage frowned. “Lily. You should be resting.” He'd had it with women and their complete disregard for safety. For the love of Pete. Could the woman wear a pair of jeans once in a while? The long skirted dresses made her appear even more fragile and ill-equipped for this dangerous world.
Her narrowed onyx gaze pinned him. “I'm fine, King. You're not the only one with a duty to fulfill.”
“Of course not.” Dage did not fucking believe Emma had ignored all safety protocol. What if the virus had mingled with her blood? Fear at losing her nearly made his throat close. He struggled to keep focused. One of his duties was protecting the prophets and so far he was doing a piss-poor job. “Has Talen found Prophet Guiles yet?”
Conn shook his head. “No.”
The chair creaked in protest when Dage sat forward. “Prophet Milner? Did the Kurjans who captured you say anything about Guiles?”
The prophet shook his head. “No. There was a pinch to my neck and I was out cold. I woke up bound in the room where you found me.” Bound and gagged. Their spiritual leader treated like a prisoner.
Kane's cell buzzed and he lifted the phone to his ear for a short conversation. His gaze met Dage's and he snapped the phone shut. “The prophet's blood is clean. As is mine.”
“No sign of the virus?” Lily asked.
“None. Though we need a full twenty-four hours to make sure.”
“Well, I'm sure he hasn't been infected.” Lily stood and assisted Milner to his feet. “Samuel has been debriefed and should probably get some rest.” She escorted the prophet to the door where guards waited. “Please inform us if you hear anything about Prophet Guiles.” The door shut quietly behind them.
Conn sat back, his gaze narrowing on the king. “What the fuck's your problem?”
Dage lifted an eyebrow as he faced two of his brothers across the table. “Excuse me?”
Sharp canines flashed in a parody of a smile. “Stop being the king for a minute. What's wrong?” Conn pushed his chair back.
“I need a workout.” Dage flashed his own teeth. Apparently the battle hadn't been enough for him. He still needed to hit something.
Conn shot to his feet. “Excellent. I suggest you forget you're the king while we're sparring, because I already have.” Two strides had him throwing open the doors. “I'll meet you in the gym.” He didn't look back.
Dage cut his gaze to Kane. “Care to join in?”
“Hell no.” Kane rubbed his chin. “You're both pissed, and I'm sure I'll need to be the voice of reason after you pummel the shit out of each other.” He stood, his eyes narrowing. “Besides. I owe Talen a beating. We're meeting up in an hour. Clean up your blood when you're finished, please.”
They rose and Dage reached the door first. “You're still mad at Talen?”
Kane shrugged. “No. But he needs to hit something and I need to train, so the gym seemed like a good idea.”
“I may stick around to watch,” Dage mused. Talen fought with heat and strategy while Kane owned cold logic. Both men were deadly. It'd be a good fight. “Ah, when Emma ignored protocol and entered the main lab without a protective suit, she got cut by a broken vial.”
Kane stopped cold. “Excuse me?” Incredulous purple eyes flashed. “Did the vial initially hold the virus?”
“We couldn't tell. She's taken her blood and so far there's no sign of the virus, but the whole floor including the broken glass had been contaminated by bleach.” Dage rubbed a hand over his chin, quelling fear. Damn but he couldn't lose her now. “I've issued orders she's not allowed out of the family quarters.”
“That seems harsh. Plus it'll delay our research significantly.” Kane shrugged and headed down the hallway, calling over his shoulder, “You might want to rethink that decision, King.”
Dage was allowing emotion to cloud logic, and he knew it. He turned the other way, his mind spinning while he sprinted down the cement stairwell and past the pool to the sparring room with its thick black mats. He had no sooner entered the gym when a heavy body tackled him to the ground while plunging a fist into his jaw.
With a growl, Dage flipped Conn over his head and leaped to his feet, wiping blood off his chin. “That how you want it?”
Conn rolled to his feet, his eyes narrowing and a dangerous grin lighting his face. “No rules.”
“Agreed.” The king lunged.
 
Emma paced back and forth, fury making breathing difficult.
“You need to settle down,” Cara said from her perch on the broad leather sofa. “You're going to make yourself sick.”
“Settle down?” Emma whirled toward her sister, her heart beating against her ribs. “He
locked
me inside here.”
Cara glanced around the spacious suite decorated in early antiques. “We've been locked in much worse.” Her voice came out breathy and weak, as if she had to struggle to force out sound.
Emma huffed out an irritated breath. “I wasn't thinking about the closet Daddy used to lock us in. The prick.”
“Then what were you thinking about?” The dark circles marring her skin did nothing to detract from the intelligence in Cara's blue eyes.
“I trusted Dage. I trusted him to understand my job and look what happened.” Emma swept an arm out. “I'm locked in.”
“Well. He let me visit.” Cara shivered and grabbed a blanket to cover her legs.
“Bully for him.” Concern slid down Emma's spine. The room was plenty warm, but Cara must be chilled. Not good.
Cara bit her lip. “I'm mad at you, too.”
Emma stopped pacing. “Why?”
“Why?” Cara jumped to her feet, letting the blanket slide to the floor. “Why? You dumbass. What if the glass that cut you had the virus on it? What if you've been infected now? Why would you put yourself in such danger?” Her voice rose to a shout at the end and she settled her hands on her hips.
Emma took a step back. “I had a duty to save Devon. It would've taken twenty minutes minimum for the computer system to be reprogrammed to let anyone but me in.” She refused to consider the possibility that she might be infected. The weakness in her limbs was from pure anger toward Dage. And exhaustion. She hadn't slept in much too long.
“Who the hell said that was your job?” Cara grabbed a sofa pillow in one hand.
Anger boiled through Emma's stomach, and she ruthlessly stamped the fury down. “I'm in charge of the lab. It is my job.”
The pillow nailed her full in the face. Cara grabbed another one. “You could've called for the guards, or at least put on a protective suit. But no.”
Emma tossed the chenille projectile to the floor. She would not throw something at a pregnant woman. “I did what I had to do. And curing this virus is the only consideration on my mind.” But when her sister had recuperated after giving birth, they were going to spar.
Cara breathed deep. “You weren't just worried about Devon. You ran in there to make sure your data was safe.”
“Of course.” Did Cara not understand the fact that the virus was replicating itself, getting stronger, preparing to rip apart her DNA right this very second?
Cara glared. “We're not kids anymore.”
“I'm well aware of our ages.”
“I do not need you to put yourself between me and danger any more, Emma.”
Her sister could barely stand up she was so weak. “Yes, you do. We're family.”
“You won't let Dage stand before you.”
“The situation isn't the same.”
“The hell it isn't. He wants to protect you the same way you want to protect me and Janie.” Cara stomped her foot. She actually stomped her freakin' foot. “You're not letting him.”
Emma sighed. “I can't.”
“Why not?” Cara deflated like an old balloon and sat back down on the couch, her hand trembling as she grabbed the blanket.
Emma sank her teeth into her lip. “What if I get used to him and then he leaves? Or I leave him?” If death won the little battle coming up next spring, she'd be blown to bits.
Cara pinched her nose. “For someone so smart, you are so stupid. He isn't going to hurt you. Not all men are like Daddy.”
“Jesus. I know that.”
A soft gaze pinned her in place as Cara focused. “Do you? Or is this all about something else?”
Unease fluttered along Emma's skin. “No.”
“Really? Maybe you're still blaming yourself. Maybe you think you shouldn't find happiness.” Cara paled further even as she straightened her shoulders.
“I'm done discussing this.”
“No, you're not. What happened wasn't your fault. Let go of the past.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.” Why did she have the sudden urge to lose her lunch?
Cara sighed. “Of course you do. You've shared your visions with me before, Em. I'm sure you had one about the day our parents died.”
Emma sank to the floor, her hands clutching the oak coffee table and her gaze on Cara. “You knew?”
“I guessed. I'd thought you dealt with the situation, but maybe not.”
Tears filled Emma's eyes. “I let them die.” She shook her head. “Mama was supposed to be safe at the library—I had no idea she'd be in the car.”
“It wouldn't have mattered if you told either of them, Em.” Cara reached forward and clasped Emma's hands. “Mama would've told him, he would've beat the crap out of you, and then gone on his normal way. There was no way to save them.” She squeezed. “Deep down you know the truth.”
Emma squeezed back. “I was afraid to tell you.”
“I should've brought up this issue, but I thought it was in the past.” Cara brushed a curl off her face. “I think I understand what's going on here. So if you're not risking yourself, not being the front line of defense”—Cara tilted her head—“what good are you to any of us?”
Emma gasped. “What do you mean?”
Cara shook her head sadly. “You protected me. You've cared for and helped me protect Janie.” Her lips trembled. “Emma. You matter all by yourself. You don't need to stand in front of danger to matter. I love you just for being the pain in the ass you naturally are.”
“I know.”
“So does Dage.”
“He still had no right to lock me in here.”
Cara nodded. “We're going to use some serious effort bringing those guys into the current century.” She snuggled back into the sofa. “So, tell me about your current research.”
“The virus binds itself to the chromosomes like it has glue all over it.” Emma's shoulders slumped. “We can't get to it. At least we can't without using magic.”
“Magic?” A small grin lit Cara's face. “So. Tell me about Moira.”
 
Dage wiped blood off his face with his ripped shirt, his back against the cool wall. “I can't see out of my left eye.” He blinked several times to make sure. Nope. Pure darkness. Closing his lid, he concentrated on sending healing cells to the tissue.
Conn grunted next to him. “I think you broke my jaw.”
An attempt at a grin had Dage wincing when his lip split further in two. “Sorry.” He'd had to throw more than one serious punch to impact Conn's stubborn jaw.
“No worries,” his brother said cheerfully. “This was fun.”
Dage shook his head and could actually hear his brain rattle against his skull. “You have an odd idea about fun.” He closed both eyes and began to heal the concussions. Lights flashed behind his lids while pain ripped through his system. Healing hurt almost as much as sustaining the original injury. Conn hit hard.
Conn shrugged and then groaned when three loud pops pierced the silence. “Broken ribs.” He exhaled loudly. “All better.”

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