Claimed (29 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Zanetti

BOOK: Claimed
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Emma shifted in Dage's arms. Her balance needed restoring—the king had scared the shit out of her. “The shifters?”
“Yes. They've arrived at headquarters as well.” Talen sat back, extending his legs before him, his livid gaze not offering any reassurance. “Why in the hell were you two in the lab?”
Cara's hands began to tremble in her lap. “The baby ...”
Emma struggled to get off Dage's lap and sit on the seat. He kept her in place, his muscles thick bands of unrelenting steel. Finally, she sighed and gave up the fight. “Cara was infected with the catalyst. She began to rapidly turn human again.”
Dage stiffened, gripping her harder.
Fire shot through Talen's eyes. “Okay. Start from the beginning.”
 
Janie snuggled down in her pink bed clutching Mr. Mullet to her nose. She was back underground with the earth who whispered secrets to her. The earth's heartbeat echoed softly through every rock wall along with peaceful warmth. Mama and Daddy slept in the next room, having shown up only a couple hours after Janie did. While she'd waited, the pretty prophet played Old Maid with her, and Janie even let Lily win twice.
Her eyes drifting closed, Janie let sleep come until she walked along the beach. She'd seen a picture of the ocean the day before and wanted to play alongside it. The water probably didn't smell like blueberries, but in her dream that was okay.
Zane wandered barefoot along the sand toward her, stopping to grab a white shell on the way. “You're dreaming about the ocean.” A deep bruise covered the right side of his face.
“What happened to your face?” She'd really hurt anyone who dared hurt her Zane. Somehow.
He shrugged. “Training. I dodged when I should've ducked.” His grin showed his dimples.
Boys. How dumb. “I've been thinking of calling Talen
Daddy
. What do you think?”
“I think he's your dad and you should call him that.” Zane shifted his focus to the sparkling waves. “I'm sure he'd be proud if you did.”
Warmth flushed through her. “Yeah, okay.” She scrunched her toes in the gritty sand, wondering if that's how it really felt. “Have you seen Kalin again?”
“No. Not yet.” Zane's jaw hardened. “But I will.”
Janie nodded. They both would. “We got attacked by Kurjans and werewolves.” She'd seen part of the fight as her helicopter lifted into the sky. “But I didn't see them coming. Why didn't I see them coming?”
Zane shrugged again. “You're not supposed to see everything, Janie Belle. You know that.”
“What else don't I see?” And why did her friend seem kinda sad?
He sat on the warm sand and tugged her down next to him. “I don't know. Things are changing but everything will be all right in the end.”
“You can see the end?”
“No. But I'll make sure it ends up okay. Trust me.”
She did. He was her best friend. “We'll always be friends, right Zane?” She grabbed his hand to hold on tight.
“Absolutely.” His big hand surrounded hers with warmth. “Even when we're really old.”
“Like thirty?”
He smiled. “Even after that. Even if we don't talk for a while.”
She clutched his hand harder. “Why wouldn't we talk for a while?”
He shifted his green gaze to her. “War has been declared and I need to train for my calling, Janie Belle. I may not be able to visit as often.”
Wow he had pretty eyes. She sniffed. “But you'll try?”
“I promise.”
Good. Zane would never break a promise to her. She'd seen him as a grown-up fighting. As a grown-up, as a soldier, a darkness surrounded her friend that she needed to fix.
That was
her
calling.
Chapter 27
C
onn crossed his arms, leaning against the smooth rock wall of the communications room, Jordan at his side. While the king liked being underground, Conn hated it. He figured the enemy wouldn't come so far under the earth's surface, and he was more of a face-to-face kind of guy. The need to hit something made his fists clench against his ribs.
Before them, Jase stood in front of three cameras with a dark tarp behind him as camouflage, shielding the rocks. Their headquarters in the Colorado mountains needed to remain a secret—needed to be a haven.
Jase cleared his throat, continuing with his first press conference, for lack of a better term. “So the Realm dealt with the threat. The royal family is under lockdown for the time being.”
Off camera, Chalton manned a console that looked like it belonged at NASA Space Center. He punched in a button and a face swam into focus on yet another screen. Vivienne Northcutt, head of council of the Coven Nine.
Deep black eyes set in a lined face still lovely sparked. “Where is the king?”
“The king is attending to business.” Dage and Talen had locked themselves in a war room to plot strategy for the day. A wry grin lifted Jase's upper lip. “You're stuck with me from now on.”
Conn fought his own grin. Jase had dressed in combat gear for his debut—nothing fancy, nothing formal. A silent message that they were at war. Nicely done.
The witch cleared her throat. “Rumors abound about the king ... well, losing his mind.”
Jase chuckled, all charm. “Vivienne. You know better than to listen to rumors.” He moved closer to his camera. “The Kurjans attacked. The king is a soldier first and foremost, the ultimate soldier.” The smile fled Jase's face, and his eyes glowed with determination. “He took care of the threat—as is his job.”
Jordan ducked his head. “Your boy knows what he's doing. He just let every leader listening know to get on board or face the king's wrath.”
Conn gave a short nod.
A male face came into view on camera. Deland, head of a shifting clan in Russia. “What about this virus we've been hearing about? Does the infection really turn shifters into werewolves?”
Jase shook his head. “Not at this point, though I'm sure the Kurjans are working on their scientific research as much as we are. I can assure you, our best people are on this.”
“I see. And what about the rumors regarding humans researching vampire DNA? Human scientists being allowed to know about any of our species?” Deland asked.
“Absolutely not true.” Jase took another step closer to the camera. “The king has not allowed one single human to know about us or to have access to our DNA. Those rumors are unfounded and simply untrue.”
Conn inhaled through his nose, his mind calculating the issue. Someone was certainly spreading rumors, attempting to take down the king. He needed to discover who it was and take care of them. Permanently.
Conn's cell phone buzzed at his waist, and upon seeing the number he excused himself and dodged into the hallway. Ducking into a smaller office, he connected the phone to a computer, punching in buttons. He smiled. “Hi.”
Moira lifted an eyebrow, her pretty face filling the screen. “What the hell is going on, Connlan?”
“What?” Dark circles marred her creamy complexion and pinched the skin around her emerald eyes. Irritation swept him. She shouldn't be stressed.
Her jaw clenched. “Is the king's mate all right? We were on a call, she said something about tulips and then ... nothing.” Moira tossed an errant curl out of her eyes. “I'm hearing reports of the king going crazy, and now Jase is giving some asinine press conference to leaders of the Realm.”
“Take a deep breath, Moira.” The need to protect her had Conn dropping into a chair to keep from storming to Ireland. “Emma and Cara are both fine. Their building exploded but they reached safety first.” He waited until relief filled Moira's eyes and she sat, leaning her face on her hands before continuing. “The king still has his mind. We were attacked and he kicked some ass. That's it.” That wasn't it. Not even close.
Moira wasn't stupid. “The king thought his mate was dead?”
“Yes.”
She leaned forward, fine lines wrinkling her normally smooth forehead. “Bugger. Is he all right now?”
Warmth flushed through Conn. His mate had a pure heart. “He will be.” Probably. That type of anger took awhile to dissipate. “Dage will channel everything he's going through into beating the Kurjans.”
Moira nodded, a small sigh escaping her. “Did the spell work? Is Cara okay? I mean, is the babe all right?”
“We think so. The contractions stopped and Cara said she feels better, though Emma is running more tests right now.” He cleared his throat. “I'm sure they would've called, but we're under lockdown. Only a couple of us can send or receive calls.”
“Good. I'm glad the babe is okay.” Moira glanced down. “Tell Emma the spell needs more of a tweaking before she uses it again—especially with the infected shifters.” She sighed. “I'm just not sure the spell is ready, you know? I'm not sure how it even worked on Cara.”
Conn nodded. “Yes. Kane said the liquid antidote needs a couple more tests before Maggie can take it, although the woman is chomping at the bit.”
“I would be, too.” Moira's slender shoulders pressed inward.
“What kind of trouble are you in for sharing a spell like that, Moira?” He had plenty of enemies at the moment but would take on the Coven Nine if necessary. Damn witches thought everything had to be a secret.
“None at the moment. I mean, the Coven Nine doesn't know, and I'm trying to keep it that way.” She wiped a hand across her eyes. “So, ah, thanks for answering my call.”
He surveyed the room behind her. “Why are you at your father's castle?”
She shrugged, still avoiding his gaze. “Where else would I be?”
Really? She wanted to play that game? “At your pretty little cottage on the edge of town.”
Surprise crossed her features. “How did you—”
“I'm aware of your location at all times, mate.” He let the words sink in, disappointment surprising him when she didn't rise to the bait. He studied her for a moment. “What's going on,
dailtín?

Her sad smile twisted his heart. “I'm not a brat.”
“Yes you are.” He grinned. “One who looks like the world is falling onto her shoulders. What's up?” His were more than strong enough to shield her if necessary.
She leaned back, a rare moment of vulnerability lowering those shields she'd perfected for so long. “Magic. Someone used it to harm. To speed up the virus. Probably with the actual virus as well.” Her pain slid along his own skin to bite.
Ah. Magic had made her and enriched her blood. His mate would take this attack personally. “We'll find them, Moira. I promise.” Determination hardened his jaw. “You understand this puts you in even more danger, right?” Besides being a mate, her power as a witch painted a bull's-eye on her smooth forehead.
He expected fire to light her eyes. Her chin to rise. A declaration that she could handle anything. What he got was a small nod and a whispered, “I know.”
Every protective instinct he owned bellowed through his formidable body. “I'll come and get you.”
Her hesitation at refusing him solidified his intention as nothing else could have. “No. I have things to do, Connlan.” Her surprisingly dark eyelashes fluttered against her pale skin.
He frowned. “You're worried about your chances to join the Nine? He'd heard the process could be dangerous, but she was the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. Outsiders weren't privy to the rules of the Coven Nine, and he suddenly wished he'd tried harder to understand her world, rules be damned.
Fragile shoulders straightened before her gaze lifted. “There isn't a simple application and job interview, Conn. More is involved then just having been trained properly.” She glanced away, hiding her eyes from him.
“What else?” He'd bet everything in his accounts there was something else. Something that turned his firebrand of a mate into someone who refused to meet his eyes.
She shrugged. “Nothing. Just a lot going on at once.”
He inhaled, searching for the right words. “I'm a soldier, Moira.”
Curls bobbed when she tilted her head to the side. “So I've heard.” Amusement sparkled her eyes into the clearest of lake bottoms.
Ah good. At least she'd quit avoiding his gaze. His chuckle released some of his tension. “If I were Dage I'd cajole you with kindness and reason; if I were Kane I'd use pure logic. But I'm not.”
“Meaning?” Interest and something else lit her eyes. Desire? Need?
“Meaning, I'm coming to get you.” The vow echoed through the room, filled with truth. Pure truth had its own ring.
There was that fire he loved to see in her eyes. Curls rioted when she tossed her head. “The hell you are. If you think a one night stand will dictate my life, you're bloody crazed.”
Man, he loved her Gaelic accent. When he'd taken her, she'd cried out in Gaelic pleasure, a soft lilt to the words he still heard in his sleep. He was done waking alone. The marking on his hand began to burn. “Here's your kind reason. I need to be inside you so badly sometimes I think I'll go mad.”
She swallowed hard, a sweet blush rising over those high cheekbones.
Pleasure filled him. “Here's your logic. Fate has given us a push, and a push only. I knew the second I tasted you that you were mine. Fate or not. Marking or not. We need to give this an honest shot, which is something we can't do living across the world from each other.”
Her nostrils flared and her blush deepened. Those devastating eyes darkened to something that hardened his cock.
He stood, leaning down toward the webcam, all purpose. All danger. “That's all the reason or logic you're getting. From now on, it's the soldier. This is your one chance to negotiate terms for peace. For terms you can live with.”
She stood, mimicking his stance and leaning forward. “Or what?”
“Or I'll take you, Moira.” Regret lowered his voice. “On my terms.”
Her hair crackled with energy, and her skin nearly glowed with power. “You think you can take me, Connlan?”
“Yes.” He kept her gaze, not flinching, not moving an inch. She deserved fair warning. He could and would take her out of the danger edging closer to her. And he'd keep her whether she liked it or not. “Make your choice.”
She flashed her teeth in a smile of pure challenge. “Come and get me.”
 
Dage found Conn beating the hell out of a punching bag in the underground headquarters' impressive gym. The dark slate walls provided coolness and protection so far into the earth. Industrial lights angled down, bathing the area in harsh yellow. He rolled his shoulders, his mind calculating how in the hell the Kurjans had found their compound.
“I have the newest results on Emma. She hasn't been infected.” The knot of fear he'd been living with had finally abated. He raised an eyebrow when his brother aimed a killing blow to the bag.
Conn nodded. “That's good news.” Thick gouges and already healing cuts spread across his bare back from the battle earlier that morning.
Dage sighed. “You should get some rest.”
“Don't need rest.” Conn threw a roundhouse punch, sending the bag spiraling away and back again, where he shot a side-kick and tore off the bottom half that dropped on the mat. “Need to make sure our soldiers are prepared to fight exceptionally gifted werewolves.”
Dage guessed werewolves were the last creatures on his brother's mind. He'd bet anything a little redheaded witch had put Conn in this killing mood. “Has Kane concluded his tests?”
“Yes. The werewolves that attacked us were all human converts. No shifters.” Conn's head butted the top of the bag, ripping the holdings loose from the ceiling. “Maybe the virus is unable to create werewolves out of shifters.” He stepped back as the bag fell and rolled over.
“We should know more next time the full moon comes out.” Dage cracked his neck, wondering if Maggie would be able to fight back the werewolf inside her for a third time. Although the third time signified the human victim becoming a werewolf for good, who knows how long it would take a shifter. He figured Kane was correct to wait after the next full moon before trying the spell on Maggie. If she beat the virus a third time with her natural immunities, there was a pretty good chance the virus needed some work.
“If she shifts into a werewolf?” Conn clapped both gloved hands together, his deep green gaze meeting Dage's. “Are you going to give the order?”

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