“We’re forbidden by law to give blood,” Yvonne said evenly.
Faith looked frantically around. “This is a trap.” Shit. She’d known it would be, but that small chance of saving her sister had made the risk worth it.
“You’re going to want to come nicely with me. There are a lot of humans around.” Yvonne waved a hand and drew a gun out of her purse. “Not that I care.”
Heat exploded down Faith’s esophagus. She jumped up, overturning the table onto Yvonne. The woman shrieked.
Faith leaped up and ran for the door. She had to get out of there. Was the cloud cover enough to protect the Kurjans? If not, she had a very limited time to run. Turning, she walked crisply out of the café and into the rain. She rushed down the sidewalk, dropping the box and serum in a garbage can several storefronts down from the café. Panic assailed her and she ducked her chin.
No way had Dr. Maple come alone. Chills swept down Faith’s arms, but she couldn’t see the threat as she ran for where she’d hidden the jeep. Fear made breathing difficult. Were they waiting for her to lead them to Ronan and the Seven?
She couldn’t go in that direction.
Her hair grew damp and started to curl, so she brushed it out of her face. She jumped in the Jeep and drove around town, needing to get to Grace, but wanting to make sure she wasn’t followed.
If she didn’t return for Grace, would the Seven harm her? Even if they didn’t, she only had a matter of hours left to live.
She paused at a stop sign and closed her eyes. For now, Faith had to get rid of the Jeep and lie low. The Kurjans had to be somewhere close.
They surely wouldn’t attack in town, right? A series of helicopters, all black, descended above her.
Her breath stopped. God. Would they fire at innocent humans? What should she do? She planted her foot on the accelerator and drove as fast as she could away from town and in the opposite direction of the mountain headquarters. Her legs trembling, she pulled into the parking lot of a national forest. She ditched the Jeep, running through the rain toward what looked like a fairly hidden trail.
One helicopter circled around to face her. Panic hit her and she stopped running. It fired rockets into the now empty Jeep, and fire blew up.
She screamed and turned to run into the forest for cover. The Kurjans were firing into a park frequented by humans? That was crazy. What happened to their staying off the radar? Her hand fumbled when she drew her gun from her waist. She’d been as careful and untrusting as possible, and they’d still found her.
Oh, God. What had she done?
* * * *
Tracking Faith via GPS, Ronan took a sharp turn down toward the national forest just as three attack helicopters came into view. “Shit.” The first chopper shot rockets into the mountain, throwing fire and debris high into the rainy sky. A tree flew in front of the jeep and he turned quickly, smashing into a bur oak tree.
Ivar yelled as he was thrown through the windshield.
Ronan leaped from the vehicle and rounded it in time to help Ivar from the ground. Cuts and scratches marred Ivar’s hard-planed face. He shook his head and glass flew from his short hair. “Jesus Christ, Ro.”
“Sorry.” Ronan leaned to look past the downed tree and saw Faith’s jeep. It was a mass of burning metal. His body settled and his mind focused. She’d run into the forest.
Ivar glared at the fire bursting from the trees nearer the town side. One helicopter veered off and turned south. “It won’t take them long to find our headquarters now that they’re so close. They could bring the entire mountain down on our brothers.”
Ronan looked up at the sky just as the second helicopter fired in their direction. Bullets pounded up from the dirt road. He grabbed Ivar’s arm and shoved him toward the forest, running after him. “Take cover,” he yelled, sliding on the wet foliage.
Ivar leaped into motion, leading the way along an animal trail. Vikings were usually excellent trackers, and he was proof of that.
“Faith ran into the forest,” Ronan yelled through the rain.
Ivar made a sharp right turn. “We’ll find her,” he yelled back, increasing his speed. The cut muscles down his back shifted as he ran faster than any panther.
More explosions ripped through the day miles away and Ronan growled. Was it possible to bring down an entire mountain? The force shields were strong, but so were today’s weapons. He had to get back to his brothers—after he found his mate.
A break in the trees showed the second helicopter and it aimed again, firing down.
Branches and leaves pinged all over, and a small pine tree all but exploded. The entire forest smelled of pine and fire. He tried to focus his senses and scent his mate, but the other smells were too overpowering.
They hadn’t been mated long enough to communicate telepathically, yet he could sense her fear. Deep and in the center of his chest.
He forced his legs to keep moving, as did Ivar. They were weakened by blood loss and needed time and food to repair themselves. He slipped again, catching himself at the last second and continuing on. Where was Faith?
A Cyst soldier came out of nowhere and charged.
Ronan pivoted and kicked the bastard in the gut before taking him down to the wet ground. His phone and the only way to track Faith spun out of control, dropping over a ledge. Fucking asshole. The cloud cover would allow them some time in the daylight.
The Cyst punched up, hitting Ronan directly in the throat.
His larynx shattered and he punched down as hard as he could, using his remaining strength to render the bastard unconscious. Ronan didn’t have the power to yank out his throat or heart, so he kicked the enemy to the side, staggering to his feet.
Ivar finished off another Cyst, stabbing a knife into the white-faced monster’s throat. It wouldn’t kill him, but he’d be of no danger for the time being.
Ronan stumbled toward Ivar, reaching out a hand. “Brother?” he mouthed, unable to speak yet.
Ivar took his hand and stood, so pale his lips appeared blue. “We’re not in fighting shape.”
There was no choice. Ronan rolled his neck and forced healing cells to his damaged larynx. This, at least, he could now do. His injury began to repair itself, so he took the lead, going deeper into the trees.
The forest sloped down, and he moved swiftly around rocks and fallen trees as the helicopter continued to pummel them. The second one tracked him and Ivar, always visible between the sweeping tree branches.
It was the third helicopter that concerned him.
Finally, they reached another ledge. He stopped running in time to keep from falling over and caught Ivar a second later. They peered over the edge to a gulley below. The other helicopter had set down, and Cyst soldiers had fanned out around it, all fully armed.
“I’d give my fortune for a gun,” Ivar wheezed, leaning against a tree.
Ronan tried to straighten out his right arm, but it wouldn’t comply. Had he broken it when fighting the Cyst soldier? He didn’t even remember. Pain was a constant in his body right now, so it all melded together. “I’d rather have a sword,” he said. That was, if he could lift one.
“We’ll have to go south to get down there,” Ivar said, straightening.
Ronan tracked the possible route. To the south, there was a slope along the mountain that would allow them to reach the helicopter. But he wasn’t looking for the Cyst. “We need to find Faith before they do.”
Ivar stilled. “Brother, it’s too late.” He pointed toward the outer trees to the north.
Ronan’s heart stopped.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Faith skidded around a corner and smashed right into a solid male body. Hope flared for a second until she lifted her head. It wasn’t Ronan.
The Cyst soldier stood just under seven feet tall with the one strip of white hair braided down his back. This one had a white
goatee that blended into his pale skin, and his eyes were a deep, dark purple. He grabbed her arm before she could fall on her butt and then quickly smacked the gun out of her hand. It spun into a stand of sticker bushes.
She struggled. “Listen. I just met with your doctor. You’re on the wrong side here.”
He pivoted and started dragging her down the rocky slope. “There’s only one side.” His voice was low and gravelly.
Her feet slipped on the wet weeds, and she fought harder.
He continued downward without a hitch in his stride. His extra-long black boots obviously had traction that hugged the terrain, while her tennis shoes did nothing but glide as he pulled her. She punched him in the ribs with her good arm, and he grunted but kept moving.
They emerged into a clearing where a helicopter waited.
Adrenaline tore through Faith’s veins, and she began to really fight, kicking and punching.
With a sigh, the soldier wrapped an arm around her waist and hoisted her, carrying her at his side like a wayward toddler. Her arms and legs hung down on either side of his arm, kicking uselessly. “How tall are you, anyway?” she snapped, twisting so she could kick his thigh.
He didn’t answer, instead tossing her into the helicopter. She landed hard and bounced on the seat. A roar filled the day. She turned to see Ronan up on a high ledge, rage crossing his expression. She had to get to him. She bunched her muscles to attack, scrambling toward the door.
“I wouldn’t.” Dr. Yvonne Maple sat across from her with a silver gun pointed at Faith’s head. “I have no problem shooting you.”
Faith caught her breath and stilled before pushing rain-soaked hair away from her face. “You’re insane.”
“Just determined.” Yvonne’s smile lacked the charm of earlier. “Though so are you. I hadn’t expected the homemade test for blood. Very smart.”
One Cyst soldier leaned in. “We have two missing and probably down.”
Yvonne sighed. “Have the second helicopter pick them up and then provide protection on our way home. The third can finish demolishing the headquarters you just found.”
“No,” Faith said, tightening her muscles to strike. The knife was still in her sock.
Yvonne lifted her aim. “Tie her up, would you? This gun is getting heavy.”
The soldier jumped inside, grabbed zip ties from his back pocket, and quickly secured Faith to the seat. She fought him, kicking and nearly biting him, but his movements didn’t slow.
“They’re so much stronger and faster than we are,” Yvonne said, almost conversationally. “Fighting him just makes you look silly.”
The Cyst soldier exited the craft and shut the door. The engines whirred to life. Faith tried to move her hands and failed. “We?” she asked softly.
Yvonne scoffed. “Yeah. I’m human, dumbass.”
“I figured, since you wouldn’t show me in the café.” Faith’s shoulders slumped as they lifted high into the air. “The fangs and the eyes?”
“Kurjan inventions,” Yvonne said, her green eyes filled with glee. “You’re much smarter than we expected. Didn’t trust us at all, did you?”
“Just enough to meet you,” Faith admitted.
“I guess you would take any chance to save your sister,” Yvonne murmured. “I understand that. Willing to risk your life for her?”
“Obviously,” Faith muttered.
Yvonne’s patrician nostrils flared. “And the lives of the Seven. That’s ballsy, bitch.”
Faith met her gaze levelly, refusing to show any weakness. “The Seven will be fine. They’re immortal.” She hoped they were okay. She hadn’t considered the threat to them. Not really.
Yvonne’s pupils narrowed in the dimming light. “I did enjoy wearing the fangs. I’d like to see if I could have them permanently attached.”
The woman was crazy. “What was in the serum, anyway? Saline?”
Yvonne gave a hard smile, the sight oddly garish in her beautiful face. “Food coloring and enough morphine to kill her.” She picked lint off her pants. “If you got away from us and we had to attack the mountain, it was easier to just make sure the Key was dead.”
Faith stiffened.
Yvonne rolled her eyes. “Come on. Omar was in the hospital room with your sister for some time. We’ve known she was a Key since that day, and we’ve been planning accordingly.”
Anger flowed through Faith so quickly her ears rang. Then she calmed. The only way out of this was by using her brain. “You’ll never get her.”
“Again, we don’t care. The mountain is about to completely collapse, and she’ll be dead. Another Key will be created.” Yvonne crossed her legs and eyed her fashionable boots. “You know, I’ve found that smart girls like you are easy to fool. To tempt.”
Faith blinked. “Excuse me?”
“The whole scientist thing. You can convince yourself of anything with talk of genetics, logic, and time. Like how the Kurjans evolved to be—what was it? Diplomats and scientists?” Yvonne laughed. “While the Seven are definitely out of touch, they know an enemy when they see one. Yet you disregarded their experience because of science and what you took as proof.”
Faith swallowed. That was exactly what she’d done.
“Trust and faith are proven by time, you know?” Yvonne’s eyes gleamed. “Your name is Faith too. That’s just funny.”
“How old are you, anyway?” Faith asked, caught by the woman’s tone.
“Twenty-two,” Yvonne said, setting the gun in her monstrous purse. “The perfect age to become mated.”
Ah. Faith rolled her eyes. “They promised you immortality if you helped them.” The girl was lost. “You must see they’re not on the level. You can get out now. Help me, and I’ll get you to safety.”
Yvonne smiled again. “You don’t understand. I’m the Intended. The. Intended.”
Faith unobtrusively tried to twist her left wrist free. Pain cut into her skin. “I don’t know what that means.”
Yvonne sighed. “Every few decades, an Intended is born for Ulric. The Superior. It’s my turn, and let me tell you, I’m not dying alone and unmated. This is going to happen. He’s going to be free, and you’re not going to mess with my destiny.” Her chin lowered and her glare burned. “Neither are the Seven. The mountain falling on them might not kill them, but it’ll put them out of commission for a hundred years or so. Digging out should take some time.” Her voice ended on a purr.
The helicopter banked a hard left and Faith gasped. Her heart rate speeded up. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“One of our safe zones,” Yvonne said. “I think Dayne wants to make sure you’re not a Key before he kills you.”
Faith shook her head. “You’re nuts and I’m not a Key. I won’t be used to draw Ronan out.”
“Nobody wants to draw Ronan anywhere,” Yvonne said, unconcerned. “I saw him bellowing for you from that cliff too. We’ve studied dossiers on the Seven and what they look like. He’s bigger than I expected. If he makes it back to the mountain, he’ll die. If he doesn’t, the Cyst soldiers will find him, and he’ll…die. Either way, he’s done.”
Faith’s chest ached. “No. He can take on any of your soldiers.” She had to believe that. He was an immortal, and one of the Seven. But what toll had the ritual taken on him? Had he been able to finish it before coming after her?
What about Garrett? If anything happened to him because of Faith, she’d never forgive herself. She’d been as smart and cautious as she could while taking this risk, but she hadn’t factored in the immortals. They were immortal, for Pete’s sake. The helicopter took another turn and rose higher.
Where were they going?
* * * *
Ronan started to run down the trail to save Faith, but Ivar grabbed him, twisting.
“What the hell?” Ronan shoved his friend.
Ivar shook his head, blood dripping from his cracked lip. “It’s too late. Let’s get back to headquarters and we can trace her. Trust me.”
The helicopter rose into the sky, quickly disappearing in the thick clouds.
Ronan growled, deep and low. An emptiness filled his chest, shocking in its vastness. He pivoted and started running back to the second Jeep. He drove wildly through town and up their mountain, where his heart stopped. The helicopter above them fired down into the trees, and the path ahead exploded.
Heat blew into him. “Get out. We’ll run.”
They both jumped from the vehicle.
Ronan fell back and waited a beat. “They have to turn around or they’ll crash right into the mountain. Go now.” Giving it everything he had, he lowered his chin and ran through the fire, ignoring the pain pounding throughout his body. Ivar kept pace, no doubt also in agony.
They cleared the forest and reached the parking area outside headquarters. The third helicopter had disappeared, but he could hear it in the clouds. The thing was coming back.
“The second one peeled off—probably to grab their wounded,” Ivar wheezed. “Come on. We have to take care of this asshole.”
Ronan ducked his head and followed Ivar into the rock opening, jumping over a series of boulders that had dropped from the ceiling.
The devastation was breath-stealing.
Ivar pushed by him, running for the armory.
Something whizzed behind Ronan, and he leaped forward to tackle Ivar to the ground. A rocket sailed over their heads, landing in the computer room. “Shit,” he muttered, rolling his brother into the nearest room.
The rocket exploded, shooting chairs, computers, and fire through the hallway.
A ringing echoed between Ronan’s ears. He shoved to his feet, taking Ivar with him. “You okay?”
“Fuck, no,” Ivar said, his expression grim. “We have to take that bastard out before he levels this entire mountain on top of our brothers. Come on.” He jumped into the decimated hallway and ducked and dodged through rock and debris to reach the armory. Once there, he limped to the corner and grabbed a long black square–looking thing. “Watch this.”