Another rocket detonated close, and knives flew out from the cabinet. One sliced through the side of Ivar’s neck.
His eyes bugged and he dropped to his knees.
“Ivar,” Ronan bellowed, going for his brother. He helped him down and looked at the wound. “Heal that.” He slashed open his wrist and shoved it against Ivar’s mouth. His healing cells had only just returned, but something was better than nothing.
Ivar took a couple pulls and then shoved him away, holding up a hand. “I’ve got this,” he croaked. “Take the rocket.”
Ronan paused and then grabbed the rocket.
“Put it on your shoulder,” Ivar whispered.
Ronan plugged the thing on his shoulder. It shouldn’t bother him, but in his current state, the device caused strain.
“Other way,” Ivar hissed.
Damn it. Ronan tilted it around, checked it out, and nodded. “I’ve got it.” He flicked open the lever. “Heal your neck. Then find the others. We have to evacuate before the Kurjans send another force.” It would probably be a matter of minutes.
Ivar pressed a hand to his bleeding neck and yanked himself up by using one of the battered lockers. “I’ll go now.”
Fuck, he was tough.
Ronan turned and carried the rocket through the hallway, alternating between sliding across rocks, ducking under pilings, and plowing through others. Finally, he reached the opening.
The sound of the helicopter echoed down.
He stepped outside into the rainy day and looked up. Nothing. Just angry storm clouds. So he closed his eyes and opened his senses. All of them. The whir of the craft rose over the sound of the rain. To the left. It was circling to attack again.
He put his fingers on the switch.
The helicopter dropped fast, rockets pointed at the mountain.
Ronan hit the lever, and a rocket shot out. The weapon bounced against his shoulder and pain ricocheted down his arm.
A second later, the missile hit the helicopter and detonated. Fire blew out of the windows in every direction. Ronan didn’t wait to see it fall. He turned and hustled back through the complete disaster of a headquarters and reached the crater that used to be the control room.
The wall slid open, and Logan barreled through with Garrett over his shoulder.
Ronan coughed in the debris-filled air and moved. “He made it?”
“No,” Benny said grimly, his shoulder beneath Adare’s arm as he helped him move behind Logan. The side of Adare’s face had caved in, and rock shards poked out. “One of the explosions tore him out of whatever dimension he was in.”
Ronan’s hand went to his chest. The pain was unbearable. “He’s dead?” Not the young Kayrs.
“No,” Logan said shortly, ducking beneath a beam. “He’s not gonna die.”
Ah, shit. Nobody had ever come back without finishing the bonding. They either came back bonded or dead. The process had not once been interrupted in the past. Ronan exchanged a look with Benny. This wasn’t good.
Benny coughed out blood. “Nothin’ we can do about it right now. Let’s get us all out of here. Did they hit our helicopter?”
“No,” Ivar said, limping in from the hallway with Grace in his arms and a tablet in his hand. “The helicopter is secure beneath the rock outcropping to the south. They couldn’t see it from the air.”
Ronan reached for the woman.
“I’ve got her balanced, and she’s breathing fine,” Ivar said.
Okay. Ronan moved for Garrett.
Logan shook his head. “I’ve got him. You need to replenish your blood supply.”
That was the truth.
Ronan moved a series of rocks out of the way so Logan and Ivar could pass. “Ivar. Is your phone still active?” The idea of Faith in the hands of the Cyst chilled him to his soul.
Ivar jumped across a series of mangled computers, easily protecting the human female. “I don’t know, and we have nothing here that works. Once we get to a safe house, I can find her if the GPS is still on. I promise.”
Ronan nodded, helping Adare through the hallway.
Adare coughed, blood dribbling from his mouth. “I need a vacation.”
“You’ve been on one for centuries,” Ivar shot back, tripping over a burning purple chair and quickly regaining his balance.
Adare snorted.
Ronan eyed the rain outside. God, he hoped Faith was all right. The Kurjans would be able to sense she’d mated, so she’d be of no use to them as a potential mate. He had to get to her before they harmed her. Fear took him, chilling his blood. What the hell had she been thinking?
When he found her, it’d be wrong to kill her. Probably.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Faith’s headache turned to a migraine as they finally touched down on what looked like a farm. It was dusk, and soon night would fall. Her fear for Ronan had grown.
Was he okay? He had to be. But could even an immortal like Ronan survive a helicopter rocket or a mountain falling on him?
Her heart hurt and her body ached. So many feelings bombarded her at once, it was hard to concentrate on just one. Ronan filled her mind. Images of him. His touch. The way her body had changed and warmed when he’d marked her.
He was everything.
Love. It was too fast, and it didn’t make sense, but she needed him. He had to have survived. A Cyst soldier opened the door of the helicopter and reached in to cut her ties, pulling her back into the present. She had to get out of here and find Ronan. If the GPS on the phone was still working, maybe he’d find her. Blood flowed back into her wrists, and the numb tingling quickly turned to pain.
She winced and followed Yvonne onto a pristine asphalt landing pad to look around. There had to be a time when she could grab the knife from her sock.
Two armed Kurjans, tall and broad, guarded a sprawling ranch house made of wood beams and square stones. The day was overcast and they kept their backs flat to the building, shielded by an overhanging shingled roof. “Can they truly not go into the sun?” she asked, her mind fuzzing.
Yvonne ignored her, looking up at the clouds. “It’s going to storm again. Let’s get you inside so I can return home.”
“Where’s home, bitch?” Faith snapped.
Yvonne glanced over her shoulder. “That’s irrelevant.” She strode down a newly cemented path to the front door.
Faith studied the area. Where could she run? Several metal buildings that looked like barns dotted the property, making her think it was a working farm. Rolling fields sprawled in two directions, surrounded by trees and forests that led to imposing mountains in the distance. “Where are we?”
“A farm no longer needed by its human owners,” Yvonne said, pushing open the door.
Screaming sounded from the nearest barn.
Faith whirled around to face the building. “What is that?”
“The last person who refused to work with us,” Yvonne said, unconcerned. “The Cyst are true masters at gleaning information. Well, and torture.”
Faith’s feet froze. The phone was under one—was the battery still working? She looked frantically around.
Yvonne sighed. “We borrowed the place as a satellite operation once Omar found your sister in Denver. There’s nowhere for you to run. It’s too bad your sister wears the mark and you do not.”
This was all about Grace. “You really want those Keys,” she muttered, stepping inside a home that had once probably been cozy. Before the Kurjans had removed all the furniture and created a large command center with several computers and wall screens in the living room. Several Kurjans worked at computers and didn’t even bother looking up.
“Well, yes,” Yvonne said.
“Why?” Faith asked. “If one dies, another takes her place.”
The biggest white-faced monster imaginable came around
the wall to what looked like a kitchen. “For the ritual, of course.”
Faith stopped cold. He was at least six-foot-eight with one of those freaky braids and a chest broader than a golf cart. His eyes were a weird purple-red mix. He wore an all-black uniform with just one silver star above his heart. “Ritual?” Her voice shook.
He polished off what looked like a roast-beef sandwich and gave a half-bow to Yvonne. “My queen.”
Yvonne smiled. “Omar. It is good to see you.”
The name stopped Faith’s heart. This was Ronan’s enemy? “Aren’t the Cyst supposed to be the spiritual leaders of the Kurjans?” This guy looked like he could bench-press a truck and still eat another sandwich.
His eyes gleamed. “We are, but we’re also their most elite fighting force.”
Faith’s stomach turned over. “What ritual?” She was getting so tired of rituals. All of them.
“Three Keys and death,” Omar said simply. “All three women must die at one moment, and then no more will be born. The threat is over forever.”
Yvonne smiled. “I have business elsewhere. I’ll take the helicopter. Be well, Omar.”
“And you, my queen,” Omar said politely.
Yvonne turned to Faith, her eyes sparkling like a young coed on her first date. “I won’t see you again. But look at the bright side. You’ll be reunited with your sister soon. In the afterlife or whatever happens next.”
Shock and anger smashed into Faith. She swung without thinking, punching the blonde right in the cheek. Yvonne cried out and flew back into the wall. Her hair cascaded wildly around her head.
“My queen,” Omar hissed, reaching for her arm to steady her. “Are you all right?”
Fury darkened her pale skin as she shrugged him off. “I’m fine.” She kicked straight up, her boot hitting Faith beneath the chin. Pain ignited in Faith’s skull and she staggered back a step, shock filling her chest. She grabbed her chin as the agony spread down her neck to her shoulders.
Yvonne straightened her coat. “I’ve been training to fight since the Kurjans found me. You’re lucky I didn’t break your neck.”
Faith’s fingers clenched into a fist, and she stepped toward the blonde. “Oh yeah? Why don’t you try again?”
“Enough of this,” came a low voice from the left. “Ladies. Act like ladies.”
Faith turned to see Dayne emerge from what looked like a gentleman’s study. He was long and lean in black slacks and a blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. “Yvonne, you’re needed at headquarters and your lab to finish the experiments.” He nodded at Omar. “Bring the human into the office.”
Yvonne smiled. “You’re not the only one with medical knowledge here.” She chuckled.
Faith tugged her shirt back into place and followed Dayne without being grabbed by Omar. She swept by Yvonne as if she didn’t exist, because she no longer did. Dayne had just basically given her an order, and he hadn’t used the “my queen” language. There was no doubt the Kurjan, and not Yvonne or Omar, was in charge. Here, anyway.
The room held a desk with a couple of leather chairs. Mounted bear and elk heads adorned one wall over a fireplace. Another chair, this one sturdy wood, sat in the corner with shackles at the arms and legs.
Darkened blood marred the wooden floor beneath it.
Faith breathed out, her eyes widening.
Omar shoved her into one of the guest chairs. “We won’t use that on you,” he said, his voice gravelly.
Surprised, she looked over her shoulder at him.
He smiled harshly. “There’s a table in the barn I prefer to use. Having you on your back makes everything so much more…accessible.”
Her stomach tightened. Fear pricked along her skin. But she turned away from him as if he didn’t matter and focused on Dayne, who stood on the other side of the desk, watching the interchange without expression. “He’s crazy.”
Dayne shrugged. “He relaxes by torturing human women. You’re safe, since you’re Enhanced. We have other uses for you.”
She needed to throw up. “Where’s your kid?” she asked as flippantly as she could.
Dayne’s odd gaze wandered her face. “At headquarters, far from here. He’s just a child. I like to shield him from the harsher side of this business. For now, anyway.”
Omar ran his hand down her hair. “Soft,” he murmured.
She yanked her head away from him. “Dayne. What do you want?”
He lowered his chin and frowned. “I’m getting vibrations.”
“Me too,” Omar growled, dragging Faith’s sweater to the side. “Bite marks.” He leaned over and reached for the bottom of her sweater.
Faith fought him, struggling, but he drew it over her head, partially pulling her up at the same time. Then he forced her over the desk, facedown. “Look at that marking,” he snarled.
Vulnerability shot through Faith, and she struggled, but he held her down easily. Tears gathered in her eyes, and she kicked out, hitting the chair. It moved a couple of feet, but she couldn’t break his hold.
Finally, he yanked her up, moved the chair, and shoved her back into it. She crossed her arms over her white bra, her skin prickling from the cool air. She fought to keep from crying.
“You mated a Seven,” Dayne said thoughtfully.
She reached back for her sweater, but Omar threw it across the room. “That means she’s fair game to me.” Anticipation darkened his voice. The cashmere landed in the pool of blood, quickly soaking it up. The sight settled her.
She was a neuroscientist. Fear could freeze a person, or it could focus them. She was smart and strong. There had to be a way for her to get free.
Dayne sat across from her and steepled his long fingers beneath his pale chin. “You were kept alive for the limited purpose of becoming a mate to a Kurjan. Now that’s impossible.” His gaze raked her face. “What is your enhancement, anyway? I’ve had research conducted on you, and you’re very young to hold the position you hold in the hospital. Can you somehow heal people?”
“Sure,” she said. Would that keep her alive until she could escape?
“Injuries?” Dayne asked and then held up a hand before she could lie again. “Before you answer, please know that I have a couple of human prisoners and will go cut one for you to heal if you say you can.”
She pressed her lips together, her chest filling. She couldn’t let anybody else be hurt. “I can’t heal injuries. I can get inside a coma patient’s mind and help him or her find a way back to consciousness. It’s why I went into neurology.”
“Useless to us,” Omar said, causing her to jump.
Dayne nodded. “Agreed.” He looked up at Omar. “Is the Key dead?”
Faith gasped. Grace couldn’t be dead.
“We’re waiting for confirmation,” Omar said. “We lost touch with Air Unit Three and have sent reinforcements. There should be word in about an hour.”
The third helicopter? Had the Seven somehow brought it down? If they’d escaped the mountain, could they trace her with the phone in her shoe? Was it still on? God, she hoped they’d somehow gotten out. Faith cleared her mind to focus. One thing at a time. Even if she grabbed her knife, she could only stab Omar. Dayne would be on her before she could get to him. “You guys have blown up two mountains lately. Surely the humans are on notice.”
Dayne’s dark eyebrows rose. This close, she could see glints of red in them that matched the ends of his black hair. “The humans think a couple of forest fires have sprung up from lightning.”
“Oh.” She tried another tack. “Listen. Before, you said there was a chance for peace. Why don’t we actually see if that can happen?” Diplomacy was her only option at the moment.
His smile revealed abnormally sharp canines. “I agree with the prime directive, killing all Enhanced females.”
She paused, her mind re
eling. It was difficult to concentrate with the pain in her face and head, not to mention the fact that she was sitting there in her bra and jeans. “All of them?”
“Yes. They weaken the bloodlines.” Dayne glanced at an expensive-looking watch.
Bloodlines? She shook her head. “What about your current mates? Future mates?”
“We have plans in place to protect our mates.” His smile widened slightly. “As well as a limited number of unmated females.”
Oh. She grimaced. “Seriously? You’re keeping an Enhanced female farm somewhere?”
He sobered. “I do not like that analogy. But yes, while the Seven and the Realm have spent the last thousand years preparing for war and searching for peace, we’ve been strategizing. Securing only the most powerful of Enhanced females for our future. They will not be touched by the hell Ulric unleashes.”
Where were the women? “Are the women here?” she asked, trying to remember the layout of the barns. She’d have to help them get free before escaping herself.
“No,” Omar said shortly.
She leaned back in the chair and angled herself to the side in case she had a chance to go for the knife. “The Seven thought you were kidnapping Enhanced women to re-create the ritual of Ulric.”
Dayne scoffed. “That ritual can’t be duplicated. Ever.”
“It was a onetime occurrence,” Omar agreed from behind her.
She glanced toward him, trying to understand. In her world, knowledge led to power and right now, she had none. “You’re in charge of the Cyst?”
“No. I’m a general,” he replied.
She looked back at Dayne, her body shaking a little from the chill. Did these guys not feel the cold? “So there isn’t a power struggle in the Kurjan nation.”
“Not at all.” Dayne stood. “I have to get back to headquarters. Omar, call in with news about the Seven and our missing copter the second you get it.”
“Affirmative,” Omar said.
Dayne turned to her. “I’m sorry, Dr. Cooper. Since you’ve mated an immortal and your Enhanced ability only assists humans, you’re of no use to me.” He nodded at Omar. “You can take her. Have fun.”