Chalton looked up, a question in his gaze.
“Contact Franco.”
Without batting an eyelash, Chalton typed in a series of codes and waited for a moment before a dark figure slowly formed on the large screen. Amethyst eyes set in a stark white face glared across the distance. “What could you possibly want to discuss?”
Dage grinned. The prick was in Canada. “Hello Franco. Rumor has it you stepped up as ruler when my brother sliced Lorcan’s head off.” No reason to be cordial.
“Yes. My cousin will be sorely missed.” Franco flicked fiery red hair tipped with black ends over his shoulder.
“I’m sure. He kidnapped the wrong woman.” The moron had thought to mate with Cara, which had ensured his death by Talen’s hand.
Franco shrugged. “You stole my mate from the helicopter, Kayrs. I guess that means I kill you.” Blood swirled odd patterns in those bizarre eyes.
The urge to end the Kurjan ruler’s life spiked through Dage’s blood at the mention of Emma.
“I’ll look forward to meeting up with you, as well as Kalin, if he doesn’t kill you first. Apparently he’s nuts.”
Franco grinned sharp canines. “Yes. The boy is crazier than a rabid dog.” True fondness colored the words. “He has such impressive plans for your niece.”
Rage threatened Dage’s clarity for a moment, and only by sheer force of will did he school his features into boredom. “He’ll die first.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Our oracles don’t seem to think so.” Franco nodded to someone off camera.
Nice try. Dage’s equipment was the best—he wouldn’t be located. “So, I thought I’d give you a chance to return my prophets. I doubt you want fate fucking with you.”
Franco clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You’ve gone and lost your prophets? Not good, King.” He shook his head, red hair flying. “Not good at all.” Sharp nails flashed when he spread his fingers wide. “I don’t have them.”
Dage frowned. “Really. Then why ask for Prophet Sotheby to exchange herself for them?”
Franco’s nostrils flared. “Prophet Sotheby?” A deep flush slid crimson under his pasty skin. “Can you imagine the prophet as a Kurjan mate?” He sucked in air, a pleasured humming emitting from his throat.
“No.” What a pervert.
“Oh. Well, let me assure you I do not have your prophets.” Franco moved closer to the camera, his gaze intent. “If I did, they’d already be dead.” He shrugged. “After I’d tortured all of the information they possessed out of them, of course.”
“Last chance.” Dage would blow the Kurjan nation apart.
Franco smiled. “I’ve work to do, Kayrs. Bye.” The screen went black.
“I can’t wait to remove his head,” Dage muttered to Chalton. But first he had to reclaim the prophets.
He stalked out of the room and down a flight of stairs to the armory where he donned a bulletproof vest. Several knives quickly disappeared into various pockets. He lifted his head as Emma rushed into the room.
“You are not going.” She smacked her fists onto her hips, her voice shaking. Her anger increased the scent of spiced peaches always surrounding his mate.
He’d forgotten about his own shields. “I’ll be fine.” Grabbing a green gun off the table, he tucked it into his waist, his gaze remaining on her. She was entirely too pale.
“You think it’s a trap.” Fear filled her voice.
He knew it was a trap. “Probably not, love.”
“I’m in your fucking head,” she screamed, her pupils dilating to swallow the iris. “You know it’s a trap.”
Damn it. If he raised mental shields now he’d hurt her. Not physically, but even worse.
“Try it.” She lifted her head, her entire body vibrating with fury.
True appreciation swept through him. Damn but his mate was magnificent. “I promise I’ll return in one piece, Emma.” Her love shimmered with anger toward him, and he fought a primitive need to be inside her.
“You’re the king. You shouldn’t fight.”
She would try to use a human’s logic in her argument.
Dage focused on her thoughts. Fear of losing him. Hearing her say she loved him the other night had warmed his heart, feeling it from inside her body blessed his soul. “I am the king. Thus I must fight.” He took three steps forward to run a gentle finger down her smooth skin. “We’re leaving most of our troops here to protect you. The Kurjans won’t see Caleb’s force coming at them in Idaho, so even though it’s a trap, we’ll spring the prophets.” Her concern warmed him, but she needed to learn the risk of being Realm royalty. “I lead our troops, love. If they’re in danger, I’m in danger.” He dropped a fast kiss to her sweet mouth, raising his head to meet her gaze. “I promise, I’m damn good at my job.”
She rolled her eyes. “I do understand the weight of responsibility and how the walls can close in on a person. You need to show leadership, but how much of you putting yourself on the front lines is really an effort to escape?”
He started, his gaze focusing on the stubborn set of her chin. Escape? She thought he put his ass on the line to escape the office? “You think I’m evading duty?”
Her pretty blue eyes sparked. “Hell no. But I do think that in battle, when there’s one single goal, you can focus that energy, focus that soldier’s need for a moment, without having to take into account the entire world.” A slow sardonic smile slid across her face. “There really isn’t anyone else who could do the job as king, now is there?”
“No,” he breathed, his mind spinning. The woman was perceptive, that was for damn sure. Intrigue swept through him along with desire. Raw and pure.
She sighed. “You’re a great king. The fact that you’d rather be doing something else makes you even more impressive.” Reaching up, she ran one slender finger down the side of his face, making him want to shut his eyes and just feel. But he didn’t. He kept his gaze on his mate as she continued. “I’m just saying there may be a better way to escape strategy and diplomacy than letting the enemy shoot at you.”
His gaze dropped to her pink lips. “Is that so? Any ideas, love?” Damn but he planned to keep her. For eternity.
Her tongue darted out and wet her lips, forcing a low growl in his throat. He raised his head, fully expecting to see a pretty blush covering her face. Instead, the color drained away, leaving her skin a fragile eggshell. “Emma?”
“I, uh, don’t feel so well.” She paled even further and her chest hitched when her breath caught. She swayed and dropped toward the floor.
He caught her, standing for a moment staring at his unconscious mate. She was out cold, a vulnerable vein pulsing in her fragile neck. How could she be so strong and so delicate at the same time? Anger and fear mixed together until his hands shook. Guns hit the floor when he swept the table clear to set her down. A quick shake had her groaning into the silence.
“Ouch.” She lifted a shaking hand to her temple.
Dage inhaled through his nose, closed his eyes, and yanked the pain out of her head. The agony swirled in his skull for a moment before he tossed it away. “Better?”
She sat up. “Um, yeah.” A sudden cough racked her body. “I saw Prophet Milner in that place Talen showed you earlier.”
Dage raised an eyebrow. “You sat through my briefing?” She could already see out of his eyes? Pride filled the king.
She grinned. “Yep.”
He schooled his face into a frown. “Hmm. We’ll discuss boundaries later. What else did you see?”
She glanced up, apparently remembering. “They’re preparing for you to come. Guns, rockets, knives. So many weapons.”
He already knew it was a trap. “And?”
Her pretty blue eyes focused back on his face, her gaze running over his skin. “The plan is to follow you back here to find us. You should check the prophets for bugs.”
Dage nodded, his palms itching to touch every inch of her. “Already in the plans, love.” Relief swep
t him that the trap was away from his mate. The Kurjans should know better than to lay a trap for him. His men would reverse it in a heartbeat, snapping the teeth of death around their enemy. He leaned down and captured Emma’s mouth in a kiss. Then he helped her off the table. “Go kick the crap out of that virus. I’ll be home tonight.”
She faltered, then placed her hand against his arm. “I love you.”
Heat filled his heart and for a moment he couldn’t speak. “I love you, too.” Pure, raw need for her ripped through him
Talen stomped inside, and with a small smile, Emma left.
Dage tossed a vest toward his brother. “Emma had a vision. The trap awaits us in Idaho and for now, our mates are safe here.”
“Good. With Caleb’s forces meeting us, the trap will be on the Kurjans,” Talen said, shrugging into a vest.
Dage nodded and took a good look at his brother’s bleeding mouth. “What the hell?”
Talen secured the sides of the vest. “I had to throw Kane into a wall.”
“I take it he bounced back?”
Guns slammed into pockets as Talen nodded. “He hit me first actually. Wanted to go on the raid.”
“Don’t blame him. But I need him to deal with the virus.” Kane was a fine fighter. Cold, precise, and deadly. Right now they needed the scientist. Plus, Dage felt better having one of his brothers nearby protecting his mate.
“Yeah. I had to say please to get him to back off.”
Dage fought a smile. “Bet that hurt.”
“Yep.” Talen twirled a double edged knife in his hand before plunging the weapon into his cargo pants pocket. A trio of guns soon followed into various holders. “Ah, Cara’s getting worse. Weaker.”
Dage lifted his head. “That’s not good.”
“No.” Fierce determination etched across Talen’s face. His mask as a soldier. “Let’s go kill us some Kurjans.”
Now that was a plan.
Chapter 15
Emma leaned against the old pine tree and dug her shoes into the dirt, her gaze on the empty tarmac. The cement sparkled in the sun, returning waves of heat to the bleached white sky. The helicopters had lifted into the air with barely a swish of sound, taking Dage to war. To blood and death.
Her hands trembled and she sought her center. The cool forest behind her failed to provide the peace her sister always found in such depths. While Cara had sought safety from their father in the trees and bushes, Emma had often left a safe haven to put herself in front of the monster who’d raised them so he’d hit her instead of little Cara or their lost, beaten mother. Emma had sought counseling in college and understood her anger toward both parents was normal. But sometimes memories still clawed at her.
The door to the residence opened and Devon hustled out, his hands full of papers and his glasses askew on his face. With a wary glance at the huge soldier accompanying him, he hurried toward her. “Dr. Paulsen? Something’s not right.” He shoved a piece of paper in her hands.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Paulsen.” The soldier’s gravelly voice rumbled with irritation. “This guy insisted we find you.”
“That’s all right.” She glanced down, quickly reading the paper. Damn it. Devon wasn’t to have seen this. “What is this?”’
“I found it with the new cancer data.” Devon shrugged. “There’s a clear genetic profile of something with more than twenty-three chromosomes. There are thirty here.”
She cocked her head to the side, attempting to settle her racing heart. Would the vampires harm a human who held too much knowledge? “Well, since that’s impossible, what logical solution could there be?” She forced a grin.
Devon exhaled. “Seriously. Someone’s playing a joke?”
“What else could it be?” She wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. “You totally fell for it.”
“Dang it.” He laughed, the sound filled with relief. “I did not fall for it. I was just afraid someone on my team royally screwed up. A joke, huh?” He rubbed his chin. “I’ll bet it was Sandy. She’s been working so hard on the proteins that I’m sure she needed a break.” A blush filled his high cheekbones. “She’s got such a great sense of humor.”
“Yeah, she does.” The scientist was in love, no doubt about that.
He glanced with resignation at the silent soldier. “All right. I’ll head back to work.”
Emma kept hold of the papers. “Sounds good. “I’ll meet you in the lab later today.” She didn’t allow worry to cross her face until the soldier had escorted Devon around the building to the public side of the lab. She needed to be more careful with her data.
Her knees felt weighted. She sighed, her mind spinning. The residence door opened again and Janie skipped out, the formidable Max on her heels. Spotting Emma, he gave a short nod and pressed his back into the wooden siding.
Janie shouted in recognition and ran in new electric pink tennis shoes toward her aunt. Clouds of dust rose along the small path.
Emma tilted her head, stunned once again by the beauty of the little girl dashing through the sunshine. Blue eyes sparkled with a clarity that only came from a pure soul, and tiny patrician features lifted in joy. Light brown ringlets cascaded around her delicate shoulders. Shoulders that would one day carry the fate of the world. She smiled and tiny white baby teeth flashed.
Baby teeth.
Determination crashed through Emma with a strength that snapped her spine in place. She was here for a reason. To protect the child. And she would.
“Auntie Emma,” Janie yelped, throwing both arms around her middle.
“Hi pretty girl,” Emma murmured, returning the hug. Sweet powder wafted up.
The little girl leaned back. “Don’t worry ’bout Uncle Dage. He’s fine.”
Was he, now? Emma slid down to sit, allowing the shade to cool her. A soft tug had Janie perching next to her. “Have a vision, did we?”
“Nope.” Janie reached out and plucked a stick from the ground, drawing a happy face in the dirt. “Sometimes I just know stuff. Like ...”
“Like what?” Emma brushed wild curls off her niece’s face.
“Like you’re about to have a vision, Auntie.” The cheerful smile failed to match the serious adult glint in those otherworldly eyes.
“Really? Well, maybe we should go get some ice cream first.” Ice cream sounded good. With chocolate syrup.
“Nah. Let’s stay here.” Janie patted her knee. “On the ground.”
Emma smiled. “No, let’s ...” Nausea washed through her. The tree swayed behind her. “Hey—” Pain slashed into her brain, and she shut her eyes before they could shoot out of her head. An image of Janie came into focus—a Janie at least two decades older. Beautiful, feminine, and strong. A carved out hall, firelight, and groups of men. A symposium of sorts. A murmur of voices and then ... an explosion. Fire.
She shook her head to escape the smell of burning flesh. Her eyes opened wide on her niece.
“It’s okay. I get out.” Janie reached up and wiped tears off Emma’s face. “I’m pretty sure.”
A dull ache set up in Emma’s neck and she groaned.
Janie brushed two fingers across Emma’s throat. The pain wafted away.
What the hell? Emma frowned, focusing on the little girl. “How did you make the pain go away?” Janie’s eyes were clear and her color healthy—she didn’t hurt.
Janie shrugged. “Dunno. Just did.”
“Does your head hurt?”
“Nope.” She grabbed her stick to scratch a puppy into the ground. “Did you see Zane in the vision? He sat across the fire from me.”
“Zane? No, I don’t think so.” The puppy stared back at Emma with big eyes, providing no answers. “Are you sure you get out?”
“Yep. We all do.” A cat began to take shape next to the dog. “Zane reminds me of Uncle Dage as a grown-up.”
“Because he’s big?” Her niece could do worse than the King of the Realm. Maybe Emma should try to track this mysterious Zane down.
“Yeah.
The black glow around Uncle Dage’s skin sometimes will try and swallow Zane when he’s a grown-up.” Janie tried to straighten the cat’s triangular ears. She sighed. “I think I’m ’posta stop it.”
Dark edge? “You mean their auras?” Did auras really exist? Emma needed to buy a book on those to keep up with Janie. And how the hell was Janie supposed to fight with dark glows?
The little girl shrugged. “Dunno. It’s something I see sometimes.”
“Do I have an edge?”
“Yep. Bright blue. Like Mama’s.”
“So you know that. And you knew I was about to have a vision.” One that freakin’ hurt. “But you don’t know how you know.”
“Nope.”
The cat looked like a rabid mouse. “Okay. So, what else do you know?”
Janie pursed her lips, cocking her head to the side. She glanced back toward Max. “Katie’s coming out and she needs a favor.”
The door opened and the young lioness glided into the sun.
“Can you read minds, Janie?” Awareness tickled down Emma’s spine.
The little girl wrinkled her nose. “Nope. Sometimes I just know stuff.”
Katie strode forward, her petite form in tight faded jeans and a white hoodie. Dark circles appeared like bruises under her tawny eyes, and her flawless skin was so pale it reflected the sun. “Emma. I was looking for you.”
Emma smiled and swept her hand toward the nearest tree. “Have a seat. We’re just talking here.”
Katie faltered and then shrugged, sliding down to sit. “So. What’s going on?”
“Not much. Just enjoying the fall day,” Emma said.
“Yeah,” Janie chirped up. “Katie’s mad at Jordan, Auntie Emma.”
“Yes.” Katie’s nostrils flared and a trembling smile lifted her lips. “I’ve loved Jordan since I was four years old, and he’s never even looked twice at me.”
Emma frowned. That certainly wasn’t true. She’d only been around the shifters a short time, but Jordan had it bad for Katie. “I think you’re wrong.”