“Who cares? Joining the Seven is our decision,” Garrett said evenly. “It sounds like we don’t have a lot of time to waste here. I’m in.”
Logan met Ronan’s gaze evenly. “As am I.”
Ronan shoved away from the table, standing. “Did you not hear the part when I said you will most likely die during the ritual?”
“Yeah, I heard you.” Garrett also pushed away from the table. “How long do you need to find a couple of witches to do it?”
“We don’t need witches,” Ivar said as Benny remained silent. “It’s just us now.”
Logan also stood. “Good. Then Garrett and I are heading home for a day to somehow say good-bye without letting anybody know why. Just in case one of us doesn’t make it.”
Ronan shook his head.
“It isn’t your decision,” Benny repeated. “It’s theirs and they’ve made it.” He stood and faced the younger warriors. “You have two days. In that time, Ivar will hunt down a physicist who can help us determine when the other shields will fall.”
Faith shivered from the tension in the room. “Why can’t you just create another shield?”
Ronan shook his head. “The three were bonded together. It was the only way.”
Yeah, that made an odd kind of sense.
Ronan stood and faced the younger warriors. “This is your decision, but I’d ask you to think it through during your time away. With your families. Hope will need protection, and you can do that without being part of the Seven. You cannot shield her if you’re dead.”
Neither Garrett nor Logan twitched. Not an inch.
Man, these guys were tough. Faith stood, wondering how she could help. “I’d like to see any records you have of the ritual. Maybe as a doctor, I can do something to help ensure success. Or at least diminish the pain you talked about, Ivar.”
“No problem,” Benny said easily. “I have a bunch of notes we all took way back when. I’ll dig them out for you.”
Ronan settled a proprietary arm around her waist, and she didn’t push him away. “Benny? We must go find Adare,” he said. “To perform the ritual, we’ll need everyone.”
“I’m tracking him down as we speak,” Ivar said, grimacing. “As soon as I find him, we’ll have to go and get him.”
“Good.” Ronan glanced down at Faith. “Maybe he’s close by. Please tell me we don’t have to fly.”
Ivar grinned. “I’m sure we’ll definitely have to fly.”
Ronan sighed. “Very well.”
Benny looked around at the gathered group. “At least now we have a game plan. Find Adare, kill Omar before he can take any more of the Enhanced, save the ones he’s already taken, fill the Seven, discover if the shield and prison world have collapsed… and prepare for a new war.”
“After Adare, killing Omar is paramount,” Ronan said softly. “He murdered my brother. For that alone, he’ll die.”
His tone shot chills down Faith’s back.
Ivar’s eyebrows rose. “If we find Omar, we need to infiltrate his camp. Discover just how prepared they are for Ulric’s return. The Cyst have been silent for one thousand years. Hidden. Even during the last war, they didn’t participate, and the Kurjans lost. They let their own people lose a war…just to stay hidden. We must glean information about them. It’s imperative.”
“It’s good to have a plan,” Benny said, his gaze darkening. “We have to save any Enhanced Omar has captured. Time is moving too quickly now. It always does.”
“Amen,” Ronan said. “I’ll be ready to go tomorrow morning to find our brother Adare. For now, Faith and I have much to discuss.”
She blinked. “We do?”
His chin firmed, and he moved for the door, giving her no choice but to go with him. “Absolutely. It’s time we reached a shared understanding.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Garrett Kayrs kept the helicopter low and near the mountains, his hands easy on the throttle. The moon shone down, giving him plenty of light. Ivar had dropped him and Logan off in Vegas, and they’d quickly made their way to their own transportation.
Logan was normally quiet, but tonight his silence had weight.
“You think it’s a bad idea?” Garrett asked through the headset.
“No.” Logan reached up and clicked a couple of buttons, turning the helicopter into stealth mode. He’d been tweaking it for the last five years. “I just figured we had more time before destiny kicked either of us in the balls.”
Nicely put. “You’re a brother to me,” Garrett said. “The only one I have.”
Logan had two other brothers, and they were close. “We’ve been brothers since the first punch between us.” He twisted a dial on the dash, and all of the interior lights changed to more muted colors. “Which is probably why I should do this and you shouldn’t.”
There it was. Garrett had been waiting for Logan and his voice of reason. “Let me have it.”
“You’re heir to the throne. King of the Realm,” Logan said, twisting to look out the window at the white-capped mountains down below. “You can’t be one of the Seven as well as the king.”
Garrett made a flight adjustment and then leveled out. “Dage and Emma just had a kid. He can be king if Dage ever steps down.”
Logan shook his head. “You’ve been tapped, and you know it. The Realm doesn’t go by succession, not really, and you’re the heir. Have been since you almost had to take over during the last war. You feel it. You have to know it.”
That’s why his fucking shoulders always felt heavy. “Maybe, but it’ll be thousands of years in the future. I can do both. It’s called multitasking.”
Logan snorted. “Fine. The ritual is dangerous. One or both of us might not survive, and Hope needs protection. Somebody who knows what the hell is happening.”
“It feels right, Logan,” Garrett said, starting his descent to the field in Idaho. “When they were talking about the Seven and the duties. I sensed something, like I knew it already. Knew what it felt like to earn that marking.”
Logan let out a frustrated growl. “As did I. I also need to know what they were saying about my brother Sam. He’s always been a soldier and a badass. Destiny? I don’t think so.”
Garrett eyed the landing circle. “The only way we can be on the inside and protect everyone is to take part in the ritual. We’re stronger together, brother. Always have been and always will be.” He set the helicopter on the wet grass and quickly powered down.
Several buildings, surrounded the landing pod and private airstrip, sat dark in the night. The moon shone down, illuminating a powerful figure leaning against the closest building.
Garrett’s chest compressed. “Ah, fuck.” He removed his helmet and exited the copter as Logan did the same.
They moved forward, cut each other a look, and then kept walking.
Garrett felt like a kid again as he approached. “Hi.”
Dage Kayrs, King of the Realm, pushed away from the building. At nearly four hundred years old, he had intelligent silver eyes, thick dark hair, and muscles cut from steel. He looked thirty and moved like a panther, dangerous and sure. “I take it you’ve had an interesting couple of days?”
Garrett barely kept from shuffling his feet. “I lost at blackjack, but Logan hit a jackpot on the high-end slots.”
Dage lifted one eyebrow. Slowly and with complete control, showing absolutely no emotion.
Logan somehow stood straighter next to Garrett, who was at full attention. It was like facing some drill sergeant or something. “I later lost the winnings on craps.”
Dage tilted his head less than a centimeter.
Heat flowed into Garrett’s face, but he didn’t blink. Still, he couldn’t help speaking. “What do you know?”
“Not everything,” Dage admitted, looking more thoughtful than pissed. “It’s interesting. I usu
ally do know all details, but apparently in this situation, I’m just the king.”
Huh. Now that was out of the ordinary. Seriously so. “I’ve never heard you say that,” Garrett murmured. Dage was usually rolling his eyes and reminding everyone, sometimes rather loudly, that he was the king and knew it all. “So. What do you know?”
“Not as much as I’m going to.” Dage smiled then, and the sight wasn’t pleasant. Or promising. “Right?”
A lump settled in Garrett’s throat. His allegiance was to family and always had been. But Ronan. He was family too, right? “You’re going to have to trust us.” What did Dage know? Anything about the Seven?
Dage watched him carefully. “I do trust you, but I don’t know all the facts here, and something’s telling me I don’t know enough of them. I do have a satellite photo taken from Denver of a Kurjan with white hair who doesn’t look quite right. And the universe feels…different to me. A balance has changed.”
It was up to Ronan to tell Dage about himself, and Garrett was going to work on making that happen. But for now, there was no reason he couldn’t tell his uncle about the Cyst. “Apparently the Kurjans have a monk-like, creepy fighting force we didn’t know about.”
Dage leaned back. “Extraordinary. The effort that must’ve gone into keeping that secret, especially from me, is impressive.” He motioned the younger immortals toward the door of the hangar. “Let’s see how much of the truth I can get out of you.”
Garrett paused and then turned toward the door with Logan at his side. “Sounds like fun.”
Dage’s laugh didn’t inspire confidence.
Okay. Garrett had a decision to make and right now. If he was going to be part of the Seven, he had to adhere to their vows. But the Cyst were another matter. Maybe Dage would be appeased with intel on them.
Yeah. Right.
* * * *
Faith led the way into her bedroom, the heat from Ronan’s body warming her back. Even without looking, she’d know he was the person behind her. There was a force to his personality…to his presence. She hadn’t noticed that with the other males. Did she feel him so completely because he was a vampire and he’d been inside her for way too brief of a time? Or was it more? Why was she so off-balance? Clearing her throat, she turned to face him. “What did you want to discuss?”
He stopped, dominating the entire doorway. “I like your intelligence,” he said, his voice silky warm like heated chocolate. Yet in his eyes, a warning lurked. A deep and dark glint that sped up her heart rate and jittered through her abdomen.
She shivered beneath his gaze. “Thank you.”
“You need to use it to protect yourself.” He didn’t move, but somehow seemed to overwhelm the entire room.
What was he getting at? “I fully intend to use my brain as always.”
“Your brain,” he murmured. “Use all of it.”
Irritation clawed up her throat and she grew still. Focused on him. Was he insulting her? “I. Am.”
“You’re. Not.” He crossed his arms, and the sleek muscles bunched in an unconscious show of power. “You’re one of the Enhanced. The Kurjans and the Cyst know this crucial fact.” He tilted his head to the side, the sight oddly threatening.
“I’m not that Enhanced,” she protested, wanting to step back but unwilling to give him an edge.
His eyes shifted to all blue. A deep, penetrating, unfathomable blue. “Don’t lie to me.” His voice reached between them, the tempered quietness all danger. A low threat made all the more frightening by the softness of his tone. “Ever.”
Her head spun for a second. What was happening to her? Now her feet felt cemented in place. “I’m not lying.”
“You are.” Arrogance was stamped hard on his fierce face. “Tell me. Now.”
Her jaw firmed while her nostrils flared. She faced him directly, warning ticking down her back. Her gift, or whatever it was, was none of his business. And nobody told her what to do. “No.” Her voice came out breathless.
His chin lifted. Anger was etched in the hard line of his jaw, and a swell of raw heat vibrated toward her. “Faith.” One word. A warning. A challenge?
“Ronan,” she returned, her legs shaking. But she’d never admit it. Her abdomen clenched, and her body tingled from her toes to her breasts. The tension in the room was making it hard to breathe. This was so outside her experience.
Only a slight uptick in his lip showed he’d heard her. “As I was saying, your enhancement is known.”
“So what?” Asking the question didn’t admit anything.
His brow furrowed. “Even if you were just one of the Enhanced, they’d come for you. But as my mate, there’s a bounty on your head right now. They will not stop. Ever.”
Icicles clacked down her back, quelling the odd tingling of arousal. “I can take care of myself.”
He came at her fast. She retreated, her legs going into instant motion. Within seconds, she landed in the pink chair, bouncing twice. He reached her, planting both hands on the chair arms and leaning toward her, his face mere inches from hers. “Is this how?” he asked silkily.
Her throat went dry. Completely. What was happening? This wasn’t normal. None of this—especially not the way her body was reacting—was normal. Every cell flashed to full burn. Her sex softened and ached.
He breathed in. Deep. The blue in his eyes morphed to sizzling green, making him look like a predator. For the first time. “I can smell you. Hot and sweet. Wanting and needing.” Then he leaned even closer. “Mine.”
Vulnerability prickled through her. How could he know she was getting turned on when it made no sense? None at all. “You seem to have come into your own,” she said, sarcasm heavy in her voice.
“I’m getting there,” he agreed. “Now. Show me.”
Her fingers closed into a fist. She was a well-educated woman, and she’d aced her physics class. In a physical contest with Ronan, she wouldn’t come out on top. “I don’t like this side of you,” she said, her body stiffening, her mind scrambling.
“Show me how you can take care of yourself.” His voice was a low rumble that slid inside her skin, beneath the muscle, and warmed her nerves as if he belonged right there. “The Cyst will hunt you. They will never stop. They will come and come…and they’ve been training for centuries to fight. Show me, Faith. Show me how you can protect yourself.”
“Fuck you,” she snapped, at a loss.
His mouth tightened. “You are sadly lacking in discipline.”
Her breath heated and her ears burned. Temper swept her. She struck out, slapping him squarely on his left cheek.
He did nothing to dodge the blow. Her hand landed and the sound was deafening. Pain ricocheted through her wrist and up her arm, tingling in her elbow. His face was made of pure stone.
Ronan remained solidly in place. “Is that it?” he asked, his tone mildly polite.
She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs just up and stopped trying. The intensity of his gaze shivered over her skin and probed deep, swirling and stealing her control. Fear and desire mingled with jagged edges, energizing her, tightening her nipples. “This isn’t me,” she whispered. Not once had she been attracted to the dark side. To danger or to loss of control. She did not know him. Not really. What exactly was Ronan Kayrs capable of? “You’re different.”
The arrogance remained. “No. I’m exactly who I’ve always been. I tried to be different. Tried to ease you into this reality. Into accepting who you are. But we’re out of time and frankly, I’m out of patience.”
“Meaning what?” With him looming over her, there was nowhere to go.
He breathed in, expanding his wide chest. “You need to mate. To gain immortality and make you unavailable.”
Mate. He wanted to mate. She laughed, the sound high and nervous. “Not a chance.”
“Really.” He lifted his right palm, sh
owing the Kayrs marking. The bold K surrounded by wild knots and lines. Beautiful and strong. “This says otherwise.”
“In your world, not mine,” she said, shifting on the chair. If she angled her kick just right, she could nail him in the testicles. He needed to learn not to mess with her.
“If your foot lifts an inch, I’m going to paddle your backside,” he said, his tone pleasant.
Her leg froze. Her gaze slashed to his. “You’re threatening me?” How dare he.
“Yes.” Then he waited. Oh, so patiently.
This was beyond her realm of experience. When she told somebody to do something, they did it. She was a doctor, for Pete’s sake. “Get back, Ronan.” She put every ounce of command she could into her voice.
“Make me, Doc. Show me how strong you are.” Blue mingled with the green in his stunning eyes. “Or kick me. Please.”
Her heart hammered into her rib cage and her body coiled into one tight wire. Every ounce of her wanted to kick him. To show him she wasn’t afraid and that she could control the situation. That she could control her body and this insane reaction to him. That she didn’t want him as badly as she did…because that was crazy. Apeman alpha assholes weren’t for her. She ate them for breakfast.
Keeping her gaze, his body seemingly relaxed, he pressed his hand forward onto her clavicle above her shirt. Skin to skin. His rough…hers soft. Heat flashed into her, boiling her blood. Desire slashed her, unrelenting and with claws.
She pressed her lips together to keep from whimpering. Her teeth ached, but she tightened her jaw, meeting his gaze with her last inch of stubbornness.
“I am going to mate you, Faith Cooper,” he said, the heat from his palm burning right through her skin to her heart.
She swallowed. “I thought that took sex and a good bite.” Her voice quavered on the last.
“It does.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Duty yanked Ronan in every direction, but this was more important. Faith was his mate, and she’d always take precedence. Over every duty, every calling, every war. They had to reach a mutual understanding. Now. The second he’d pressed his marking to her flesh, the beast inside him had roared wide awake. Fierce. Ready.