“Garrett.” The younger vampire shook, his hold strong but not aggressive. The kid had class.
Logan did the same.
They were young, looking to be in their mid-twenties. While they appeared youthful, both held eons in their gazes. They’d been through some shit, without question.
Garrett studied him, his metallic gray eyes shining with intelligence. “There’s something familiar about you. Have we met before?”
“No,” Ronan said, seeing his father in the angle of Garrett’s cheekbones. His heart thumped hard for a moment. Now wasn’t the time to tell his great-nephew the truth. Maybe it could never happen, since the Seven had to remain a secret. “We’ve never met. I’m just another vampire-demon, like you.”
“I’m pure vampire,” Garrett said.
Logan leaned around his friend. “I’m a hybrid. Welcome to the club.”
“Garrett, you’re part demon, dumbshit,” Benny said, craning his neck to look up the three stories of the hospital.
Ronan tensed in case Garrett lashed out, but the immortal surprised him again. Garrett just raised one eyebrow. “I have heard rumors to that effect.” He grinned, flashing fangs. “Call me a name again, and I’ll tear your legs off, Ben.”
Benny snorted. “I’ve always liked you, kid. I’d hate to rip out your throat and eat your larynx.”
“The liking is mutual,” Garrett agreed.
Logan moved toward the door. “Aren’t the Kurjans coming? We can joke around later.”
“Who’s joking?” Garrett and Benny said at the same time.
Ronan frowned. His brother had had an odd and usually inappropriate sense of humor, which was why he and Benny had gotten along so well. Who knew that characteristic was inheritable? “Enough. Let’s get in and out before anybody knows we’re here.”
A big black helicopter landed on the roof, swooping in from nowhere. It definitely didn’t look civilian.
“Too late for that,” Benny said, a growl coming from his chest. “The Kurjans have arrived.”
Ronan looked up at the night sky. “Does everybody in this new world have a helicopter?” It was unthinkable.
“New world?” Logan asked.
Benny swept the question away with one broad hand. “Later. The Kurjans won’t care who they kill, so we’d better get in there and now.”
The human security guards wouldn’t have a chance. Ronan settled into battle mode. “This woman is my mate’s sister—her only family.”
Garrett gave a short nod. “Understood.”
Logan opened the door. “Which floor?”
“Second,” Benny said. “At least she was on the second floor when Ivar sent the information. There’s no reason for her to have been moved.”
“I studied the schematics in the helicopter on something called a tablet. Amazing device,” Ronan said, leading the way into the building and turning for the stairs. “Garrett and I will take the stairs. Benny, you and Logan take the nearest elevators. We’ll approach the room from opposite sides.”
“Affirmative.” Benny tapped Logan on the arm. “I’ll lead.”
Logan nodded at Garrett. “Stay safe, brother.”
Garrett yanked open the door to the stairwell. “Ditto. Remember that Kurjan blood burns.”
“Burn, baby, burn,” Logan responded, pivoting and jogging after Benny, his hand already at the knife near his waist.
Ronan watched the hybrid go. “Brother?”
“We’ve fought, killed, and almost died together,” Garrett said, pulling a weapon out of his waistband. “His brother mated my sister, and that too makes us family. He’s my brother. Period.” He ducked his head and started running up the stairs. “Plus, we share a niece. One we’ve vowed to protect. Regardless of the cost.”
The Lock. Hope Kayrs-Kyllwood. “I see,” Ronan murmured, following Garrett, his new boots sure on the steps. His strength was returning, and there was no doubt in his mind it was because he had started bonding with his mate. There were so many questions he wanted to ask the young Kayrs, but now wasn’t the time.
He caught Garrett’s shoulder before the male could bound into the hallway. “I’m lead.” Without waiting for an argument, Ronan shoved past him and moved into the hallway, keeping his gun hidden.
A boot to the face threw him back into Garrett. He bounced off, reached out, and yanked the offender into the stairwell. Pivoting, he took the attacker down, ripping off the asshole’s mask. Red hair, black tips, purple eyes. Fucking Kurjan.
The Kurjan snarled and punched up, hitting Ronan in the nose. It cracked, broken.
He punched down, aiming for the neck and yanking in his knees to break the Kurjan’s ribs. They broke with a loud shatter, and the soldier hissed in pain.
Garrett moved to the side, his gun out. “Finish this.”
Ronan nodded. He was trying, damn it. Snarling, he punched down into the Kurjan’s throat again. At full strength, he would’ve hit the floor. This time, bones cracked but stopped him. Pain ripped through his hand, and he growled, lifting it away and stretching his fingers.
Garrett gasped, his gaze on Ronan’s Kayrs mating mark.
Ronan reached for his knife. “I can—”
Garrett fired three shots from a green gun into the Kurjan’s forehead. The soldier jerked and then slumped, unconscious and not breathing.
Ronan pushed away and stood.
Garrett put his back to the wall and pointed the gun at Ronan. “What the fuck.”
Ronan glanced at his bleeding hand and the Kayrs marking. The K and surrounding jagged lines were covered in blood. “Long story. Talk later.” He moved toward the hallway.
“Talk now,” Garrett countered. “This gun fires lasers that turn into bullets in an immortal’s body. It won’t kill, but it’ll knock you into a deathlike state long enough for me to cut off your head. Who are you and how are we related?”
“We don’t have time for this.” Ronan sent healing cells to his hand, but nothing happened.
Garrett’s gray eyes sizzled into a wild blue. “What’s wrong with you?”
“We don’t have time for that conversation.” Ronan shook out his hand, throwing blood. “My name is Ronan Kayrs, and I’m your great-great-uncle. My brother, Jacer, would’ve been your great-grandfather.” All of a sudden, he felt fucking old.
Garrett frowned, his aim steady. Very steady. “My great-grandfather was an only child.”
“Aye. That’s the story that was told. Obviously, he was not.” Ronan held up his palm and the Kayrs marking. This was a disaster. The existence of the Seven had to remain a secret, and it was too dangerous to indoctrinate this young immortal into the brotherhood. Ronan couldn’t lose another family member. What had he been thinking to even consider it? “Believe me about our ties or not, but right now we have an Enhanced woman to save.”
Garrett lowered his gun. “We’re not finished with this discussion.”
Ronan nodded and pulled the door open, sliding out to step calmly into the hall.
Garrett fell into perfect position behind him, close enough that he could keep his gun out. Smart. Definitely smart.
Ronan ignored the nurses’ desk and the few patients milling around in gowns and reached the correct room. He glanced down the hallway, not seeing anything. But the hair prickled down his neck. He moved inside and then his muscles tightened into stillness.
A woman lay in a bed hooked up to machines much as he’d been. On the other side of her, near the window, stood a warrior he’d hoped was long dead. “Omar,” Ronan breathed. Rage took him and his blood started to heat. Fast and strong.
Omar had partially lifted the mask off his face, revealing his too-pale skin and blood-red lips. He snarled, showing yellowed fangs. “The rumor is true. You survived.”
If it was just a rumor, then Ulric hadn’t found his way home yet. ?
??I had to kill Ulric first,” Ronan said.
Omar smiled, the sight garish. “We both know the Superior can’t be killed.” He pulled the remaining material off his head, showing the one strip of white hair braided down his back.
Ronan stopped breathing.
Garrett stepped closer and shut the door, leaning back against it. “What in the holy fuck of a nightmare are you?”
Ronan jerked. “He’s Cyst. The general.”
Garrett’s face contorted in disbelief. “What the hell is a Cyst?”
How could that not be known? Ronan slid the knife from a sheath on his thigh. “What do you want here?”
“She’s Enhanced, and we’re collecting for our future and for Ulric’s return.” Omar reached for the knife at his waist. “We need more for the ritual he has planned for his homecoming.”
Ronan’s stomach tilted. That could never happen. “It will be a pleasure to kill you. I’ve dreamed of doing so for nearly a thousand years.”
“Still upset I killed your baby brother?” Omar asked, drawing a sword from behind his back.
Ronan stilled. “You must’ve used deception. Jacer was a much better warrior than you.”
“Yet he’s dead.” Omar smiled, the sight a parody.
Fury had claws as it ripped through Ronan. “I’m going to enjoy tearing your head off.” He took another step closer.
Garrett sucked in air. “Why do I feel like I’ve stepped onto a tightrope with no net?”
“Welcome to my reality,” Ronan returned, moving to the right and away from the fragile human in the bed. Very faint vibrations came from her, telling him she was an Enhanced female, but he couldn’t get a strong grasp on them. He could barely sense them. Her coma was complete. His heart hurt for his mate. There was no way to bring back her sister.
Omar moved closer to the window. “This woman isn’t worth fighting over. She’d be useless as a mate.”
“You’re not here for the woman,” Ronan countered. “You’re here for me.”
“I’m here for answers.” Omar’s eyes morphed to a deep purple. “Where is Ulric?”
Ronan moved closer and angled to the side, noting Garrett guarded the door. Good.
Omar glanced at Garrett and then focused on Ronan again. “Tell me where Ulric is, or I’ll blow up this entire hospital. My soldiers have been placing explosives throughout as we’ve been talking.”
“Life is full of hard choices,” Ronan said easily, reaching for the knife at his waist. “I’ll sacrifice a hospital of humans for you, General. In a second.”
Garrett remained silent.
Omar tilted his head toward Garrett. “All right, young Kayrs. You might want to listen to my offer.” He put his back to the wide window, and streetlights outside glowed behind him.
“I doubt it,” Garrett said, almost sounding bored.
Under different circumstances, Ronan would’ve been amused and probably proud of his new family member. As it was, his hand twitched with the need to plunge the knife into Omar’s neck. But for now, the monster was talking; maybe he’d give something away. Let Ronan know what they were up against. “What’s your offer to my nephew?” he asked quietly.
Omar ignored him, his gaze appraising Garrett. “You’re not surprised I know of you?”
“Everyone knows of me,” Garrett said without an ounce of arrogance. “Killing you would probably just enhance my reputation with the ladies.” He locked the door and pointed his gun at Omar.
“No,” Ronan said softly. “He’s mine.”
Garrett didn’t move. Or lower the fucking gun.
Omar’s smile widened. “Oh, young Kayrs. You don’t know the Butcher, but I do. He may have been a Kayrs at one point, but even his family disowned him. Put him in a prison world dimensions away. You’ve probably never heard of him.”
Garrett didn’t twitch. “Are we going to talk or fight? I’m missing a rerun marathon of Friends right now.” He tapped his ear and seemed to listen. “Copy that,” he said quietly.
What the hell?
Garrett glanced toward Ronan. “Logan and Benny engaged three Kurjans on the roof. They were planting explosives. We have them now.”
There was a communication device in Garrett’s ear? How did that work? One thing at a time. Ronan cocked his head to narrow his gaze on Omar. “Kurjans? You didn’t bring Cyst?”
Omar sighed. “Garrett Kayrs. Kill this interloper as your ancestors intended, and we guarantee we won’t go after the Lock. We’ll let her live in peace.”
Garrett yawned. “I don’t have a Lock.”
“You know her as Hope Kayrs-Kyllwood, the prophet,” Omar said smoothly.
The room heated. The air popped, and an unreal tension gouged a hole through the oxygen.
Ronan eyed his nephew, adrenaline flooding his body.
Garrett lost any pretense of boredom. “You just threatened my niece.”
Omar nodded. “Indeed I did. You have no idea of her importance. Yet I give you my word she will not be touched or even sought if you do as I ask. Kill the Butcher before he kills you. And her.”
Garrett snarled. “You don’t understand family, freak.” Then he charged.
“Now!” Omar yelled.
The window blew open, and four canisters bounced on the ground. Instinct ruled, and Ronan leaped across the room to cover Grace Cooper with his body.
The world exploded.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Safe in her Idaho home, Hope Kayrs-Kyllwood bolted upright in bed, sucking air as if she’d been drowning. Her body was cold, so she pulled the covers up to her chin.
“You okay?” Paxton asked from the floor.
She fumbled for her pink light with butterflies all over the shade and turned the knob. “Pax?” She blinked sleep from her eyes and looked over by her white desk.
He pushed up from a curled position, his wild black hair messy around his face and his blue eyes almost black. “Yeah.”
She scooted over. “What are you doing here?” They lived in a subdivision on an Idaho lake with only immortals nearby. Pax’s house was several blocks over from Hope’s, and it had been nighttime for hours. Had he walked over by himself in the darkness?
“Your mom said I could stay.” He shrugged and stood, pulling up too-big sweats over his round belly. “My dad is on mission, and I was worried about your sniffles. Vampires shouldn’t get sick.”
“Oh.” She lifted the covers back. “It’s cold in here.”
He ambled over and slid into the bed, leaning back against the white headboard with carved butterflies on it. “I read that shivering burns calories.”
She frowned and tossed the covers over him, sitting up next to him, her butt on her pillow. “You’re not fat.”
“My father says I am.” Pax plucked at the covers. “He’s right.”
“No.” Hope patted Pax’s arm, her heart hurting for him. “You’re perfect. My bestest friend. Ever.” She smiled. “And Libby. It’s three of us. Always.”
He leaned his head back and shut his eyes. “I know.”
“I think seven years old is too young to think about calories,” she murmured. “Even if we are vampires and learn faster than human kids.”
“Vampire-demons,” Pax retorted. “My mama was a demon.” One who’d died in the last war.
Hope patted his arm again. “I’m sorry she’s gone.” His mama had been a kind lady. Much nicer than his dad. “Do you want me to ask my mama if you can live here? Be my brother?”
“No.” Pax pushed his wild hair away from his round face. “My father wouldn’t let me, anyway.”
At least Hope’s mama had let Pax stay the night. “How did training go yesterday?”
“Don’t ask,” Pax muttered. “I suck. I wish I could just play my guitar and be a famous musician.”
“You’ll get better at training,” Hope whispered. “As soon as my cold is gone, I’ll start training too. We’ll work together.”
“The real training doesn’t start until we’re teenagers. But even this early stuff kind of stinks.” Pax stretched his legs out under the covers. “If you’d just practice your piano, we could start a band.”
“Okay.” If it would make Pax happy, she’d be in a band with him. Libby could play the drums. “I promise.”
“Good. And I fixed the tire on your bike so your parents wouldn’t see you’d damaged it.” He yawned, his voice cracking. “But you have to promise you won’t try to make that jump over the creek again. You could’ve broken your arm.”
“Maybe.” She really wanted to clear that creek. Libby had done it the other day.
Pax sighed. “Tell me about your bad dream. I heard you wake up.”
She rubbed her eyes, keeping her voice quiet. “I don’t know what I saw. There’s a male who’s mostly bald but with one braid of white hair down the middle of his head to his back. He has purple eyes. Kind of looks like a Kurjan, but a lot meaner than Drake could ever look.”
“This Kurjan sounds creepy.”
“He was,” Hope said, her voice shaking a little and her stomach hurting.
Pax took her hand. His was warm and bigger than hers, and she held on tight. “What else?” he asked.
“In the dream, he was looking at me. Kind of like he was there,” she said, shivering.
“Like in your dream world?” Pax asked, his voice going higher.
She shook her head. “No. It wasn’t real like the dream world. But it felt almost real. He looked at me and smiled.”
“Not a good smile?” Pax asked.
“No,” she breathed. “I’m kinda scared to go back to sleep, but I want to go find Drake. He’ll help us, Paxton. I know that someday he will make everybody safe.”
Pax didn’t say anything.
Man, Hope wished they could meet. Then they’d be friends too. It would be the four of them. “You’ll see,” she whispered.