Claimed

  “Oh.” Jase probably would’ve wiped the track clean.

  Dage yawned. “I forgot to ask. Does Kane’s blood show any sign of the virus?”

  “No.” Her mind began to swim in lazy circles. “But if it shows up, we may have found the path to an antidote. Assuming he doesn’t contract an illness.” She yawned. “That was brave of him to ingest the virus for Cara.”

  Dage shrugged, his chest knocking against her head. “He’s a good man. You do what you have to for family.”

  Hurt caught the breath in Emma’s chest for a moment. For family. She hunkered down and began to count test tubes until sliding into an uneasy, dream-filled sleep.

  Damn. She hated this dream

  Fall had given up the fight to winter and its murky fog descended low. Eighteen years old, she sat on the chipped front steps of her home. The dirt road potted with holes stretched out before her. The trees spread naked limbs through the chilled air, allowing themselves to be swallowed by mist while dots of frost littered the brittle brush.

  She shivered, the scent of nature’s demise skittering across her skin. It was the saddest part of the day—dusk. The day ended and night had yet to provide the protection of darkness.

  Yet she waited on the porch.

  Cara hummed a quiet tune inside the house, working on a school project. Mama had gone to the library and Daddy ... Well, Daddy was likely dead.

  A low rumble echoed from down the road and soon the sheriff’s battered squad car emerged from the murk. He’d left the lights off this time. No one was screaming or getting hit, so why hurry?

  He rolled to a stop and stepped out of the vehicle, hitching his pants up over his big belly. “Hi Emma.” A pronounced limp impeded his way as he moved toward her until Old Spice tickled her nose.

  “Hi Sheriff.” She stood to her feet, wiping her hands on ripped jeans. She needed to look surprised when he gave the news. “What are you doing here?”

  His faded blue eyes softened. “I have bad news, sweetheart.” The soft jowls in his neck jiggled as he spoke.

  She nodded, sorry the sheriff had to feel anything for her father. The cop was a nice old man, one who’d tried to help more than once. “What is it?” He needed to tell her the bad news. Then she, Mama, and Cara could move on.

  “There was a car accident. Your father’s truck went over the embankment by Shilly’s Hill.”

  Yep. She’d seen him crash to the bottom in a fiery explosion. Handy curse these visions. “Was he drunk?”

  The sheriff widened his eyes for a moment and slowly nodded. “He left the tavern an hour or so before the wreck.” Rubbing a hand across his thick white beard, the sheriff sighed. “You’re eighteen, so there should be no problem for you to keep your sister with you.”

  Emma had celebrated her birthday a few weeks back. “Well, sure.” A warning tingle set up at the base of her skull. “Mama should be home soon. I’ll ask her to call you.”

  The sheriff paled. He extended his hand, then dropped it back down to his side, empty and useless. “Oh Emma. I thought you knew. They were together. Your mother was in the truck, too.”

  A decade later Emma’s strangled cry had her sitting straight up in the bed.

  Warmth instantly wrapped around her and she found herself cradled against a hard chest. “Oh, love. I’m so sorry.”

  She trembled, biting her lip until blood welled. “I’m all right.”

  “No, you’re not. Let it out.” Dage’s warm breath brushed her forehead, the scent of sandalwood and power easing her muscles.

  “No. I don’t cry.”

  “Why the hell not?” His gentle tone softened the harsh words.

  “Because it’s weak.”

  He tugged her back down to snuggle against him. “Is not.”

  “Like you cry.”

  Large, gentle hands caressed her back from shoulder to tailbone, spreading warmth and reassurance. A guarantee of support and protection. “I promise I’ll cry next time I’m upset. Okay?”

  She laughed, tears instantly filling her eyes and beginning to fall. “It was my fault.”

  “What was?”

  “I saw his death. I knew a year before it happened that he’d die. But I didn’t know Mama was with him, that he’d pick her up at the library on the way home.” Tears of shame and guilt scalded her face, dropping onto Dage’s warm chest. “I never said a word.”

  Dage’s warm hand rubbed circles into her lower back. “What if you had?”

  “What?” She hiccupped.

  “What if you had told him? What would he have done?”

  “Beat the ever living shit out of me.” The crazy bastard had thought she and Cara were possessed by the devil who had given them their special abilities.

  Dage’s expelled breath stirred her hair. “Ah. So telling him wouldn’t have changed a thing.”

  “I don’t know for sure. He may have heeded my warning—even if he did beat me first.” And Mama would’ve lived.

  Dage’s muscles tensed until they vibrated from within. “I wish I could’ve met your father. For just an hour.”

  Emma grinned through her tears. “Me too.” She placed a soft kiss above Dage’s heart. “Do you think it’s possible to cheat death?”

  “Cheat? No.” He ran a hand down her hair. “But I think the future can be changed. The visions you and I share allow us to do so.”

  She had every intention of altering the future she’d seen in visions. Their future. “Yes. But every time you try to alter the future, the new path becomes unclear. Isn’t it better to know sometimes?”

  “Sometimes. If you like that future.” He rolled her over and brushed a gentle hand across her wet cheeks. “Better now?”

  “Yes.” Safety surrounded her. A foreign feeling. The temptation to let go and hide behind the king rocked through her. But she was stronger and smarter than that. The king needed her whether he knew it or not.

  “So, about round five ...”

  Chapter 14

  Dage took a deep breath, waiting for the wall screen in his private conference room to clear. The vulnerability inherent in the aboveground lab weighed on him. His mate should be at the underground headquarters up in the mountains. Only the need to cure the virus kept her here. Her intelligence was a resource they needed, but he had no intention of failing when it came to her safety.

  He’d left her sleeping peacefully in their bed a mere hour ago, and only the heavy mantle of duty kept him from returning to her side to cuddle her close in a way she’d been denied as a child. He channeled his fury at the dead man into a focused calm to deal with the matter at hand. While he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, he hated diplomacy and would rather take the demons on hand-to-hand.

  Chalton punched in keys next to him. A pop sounded and the screen filled with the image of a large man dressed in the black uniform of the demon military. “Suri.”

  “Dage.” A base growl emerged from the demon due to an odd configuration of vocal cords. “You having any fun being king?” Shiny silver triangles decorated his left shoulder, showing his rank as leader. The leader.

  “Shit, no.” Dage forced a smile for his old friend. “You?”

  “No.” Suri’s eyes flicked from green to yellow and then back again. He’d cut his hair short for once. Preparing for war? “I heard you found your mate. Congratulations.”

  Irony ran through the demon’s words and Dage raised an eyebrow. “Thank you. I take it you’re still looking?”

  Suri shook his head, silver hair shining under overhead lights. “You should know better, Kayrs. You just exposed your jugular.” He stepped closer to the camera. “A mate is a weakness a military leader can’t afford.”

  “A valid viewpoint, to be sure.” Dage paused for a moment. The demon had better not be threatening his mate. “Of course, I just became all the more deadly. Something to protect and all that.”

  Suri nodded, the light glinting off his shiny decorations. “Yes. Rumor has it Franco wanted your mate, and ye
t he’s still breathing.”

  Dage laughed. “Franco’s currently the least of my worries.”

  Suri nodded. “Even so, I’m surprised your peace lasted this long.”

  “As am I.” Dage met the demon’s gaze squarely. “You and I were once great friends.” They still were, as far as he was concerned.

  “Yes. Until one of your highest ranking officers stole my brother’s mate.” Anger sizzled in those eyes.

  Dage rubbed his chin. “Will that wound ever heal?” For the love of Pete, eons had passed.

  “No.” Suri gave a short shake of his head. “Not until Caleb Donovan’s remains are providing the earth with fuel.”

  Exasperation swept through Dage but he kept his face bland. “You’ve been fighting Caleb’s forces for a hundred years. We stayed out of the feud because you both asked us to remain neutral.” Though at the moment he wished he would’ve locked the two stubborn men in a room and let them duke it out. For good.

  Suri’s eyes narrowed. “You are no longer neutral. You chose a side yesterday.”

  Dage lifted an eyebrow. “No. We are gathering our forces and putting our allies in place. Are you aware of the Kurjan virus?”

  Suri lifted a shoulder. “I have heard rumors.”

  The guy knew more than rumors. He was as connected as Dage. “Have you considered how it would impact your mates? Your family? Your allies?”

  Fire crackled along the demon’s skin for a moment. “It would not impact us.”

  “You sure about that?” The demons had thirty-two chromosomes and their mates twenty-eight. How could their twenty-seventh chromosomes be safe? He made a mental note to speak with Emma. If Suri was right, maybe a cure or antidote existed within the demon mates.

  “Yes.” A red flush spread across Suri’s broad face. “Although we’ve declared war, as a gesture of friendship, I’ll give you one week to denounce Caleb and his forces as an ally, Kayrs.”

  “And then what?”

  Suri smiled slowly. “We take you out.”

  The screen faded to black. Now Dage had to destroy one friend in order to keep another one. His diplomacy skills seemed rusty, though the damn demons loved a good fight, maybe even needed one, to keep their mental faculties focused.

  He ran a rough hand through his hair, his gaze on the blank wall. A beep at the door had him nodding to Chalton.

  Janie skipped inside, leaping for his lap. “Hi Uncle Dage.” The scents of baby powder and innocence filled the room.

  “Hi.” He settled her into place, the need to protect her nearly overwhelming him for a moment.

  She clasped a blue bear, known as Mr. Mullet, in her small hands. “This room is like the other communication room in the mountain.”

  “Yep.” The mountain—where the little girl should probably be safely ensconced. The main fortress was impenetrable, unlike their current facilities.

  “Who were you talkin’ to?” Her deep blue eyes, so curious and trusting, focused on his.

  “An old friend named Suri.” One he may have to kill.

  Janie scrunched her face in a frown. “Guy with yellow eyes? Sometimes?”

  The king breathed deep, pushing down his concern. “Yes, that’s him. Have you dreamed about Suri?” Dage could protect his niece from any outside force, but no shield existed for the visions.

  “Yep.” She patted Mr. Mullet’s blue hair. “But it’s always kinda foggy around him, like he’s not sure which way to go. Were you trying to tell him which way to go?”

  “Yes, I was.” But the path the demon had chosen would lead to bloodshed for them all. So much for Dage’s diplomatic training. He didn’t think the demons would mount an attack on him, but Caleb’s forces were fair game. Now he was honor bound to jump into the fray. “What are you doing wandering around, little one?”

  She rolled her eyes in an expression so like her aunt’s he had to grin. “I’m almost five, Uncle Dage.”

  Dage nodded. “Yes, I understand your birthday is coming up. I already gave you a pony. What are you fishing for here?”

  “Fishing?” Eyes that reminded him of the clearest blue lake in the Himalaya Mountains widened on his. “What do you mean, fishing? I don’t wanna go fishing.”

  “Right. Hinting. What are you hinting at? I mean, what do you want for your birthday?”

  She pursed her tiny lips. “I want my baby brother to be okay.”

  Emotions commingled and swam through the king until he couldn’t differentiate between fear, pain, and pride. “I want your baby brother to be okay, too.” Dage paused, sorting to find the right words. “Have you seen anything in your head?”

  “No.” She buried her nose in the bear’s fur, her voice becoming muffled. “He’s kinda foggy, too.”

  Well, damn. That wasn’t good. “Your mama and your brother are strong people, Janie. We have to trust in that.”

  She lifted her head, a delicate eyebrow arching. “No we don’t. We have to make it right.”

  The little girl was more like Emma than he’d thought. “We’re doing our best, sweetheart.”

  “No.” She frowned. “I mean, who’s Mowra?”

  “Mowra? You mean Moira?”

  Janie shrugged. “Yeah. Who is she?”

  Dage sat to attention, a tingling snapping at his neck. “Ah, why?”

  “I saw her in my dreams last night.” Janie began to play with a button on Dage’s silk shirt.

  Why? Had yet another one of his brother’s women been infected with the virus? What would the tiny bug do to a witch? He needed Conn to contact his mate. “Moira is ... ah, she’s married to Uncle Conn, honey.” How was Dage going to explain that one in preschool language?

  Janie blew out a bubble. “Why isn’t she here?”

  “Basically, she’s been studying at a far away school.” That should appease the child’s curiosity.

  “Studying what?”

  “Well, magic.” Cara couldn’t be mad if he taught Janie about witches and magic, could she? He didn’t want to tick one of the Paulsen women off, that was for sure.

  “Oh, okay. Where?”

  “Across the ocean in Ireland.”

  “Is she done?”

  “Er, yes.” So much for appeasing Janie’s curiosity.

  “Why isn’t she with Uncle Conn, then?”

  “Ah, well, you should really talk to Uncle Conn about that, sweetheart.” There. Served his brother right.

  A peal echoed in his earpiece. He tapped once. “Dage.”

  “There’s a problem. I’ll meet you in conference room two,” Talen said.

  “Two minutes.” Dage threw Janie into the air, catching the giggling child and striding toward the door. He handed her off to Max, who stood just outside. “Take Giggles here to her mother, please.”

  Janie smiled and gave him a little wave. “I also want an Xbox, Uncle Dage.”

  Dage entered the conference room still chuckling at the little minx. He lost his grin as he took in the frowning faces around the table. The scent of wild strawberries lingered in the air. “Lily? You should be lying down.”

  “I’m feeling better.” She gave a delicate shrug, appearing beyond fragile sandwiched between Conn and Talen.

  Jase dodged inside right behind Dage. “What’s going on?”

  Talen pushed back from the table. “The Kurjans kidnapped Prophets Milner and Guiles. They’ve demanded an exchange for Lily.”

  Dage frowned, shifting his gaze to the prophet. “They contacted you directly?”

  She nodded. “Prophet Milner sent me an e-mail through a secured server. Even he doesn’t know where I am.”

  Modern technology at work. For a moment Dage longed for the good old days when he controlled the flow of any and all information. He turned toward Talen. “Did you trace the e-mail?”

  “No.” Talen pounded on a keyboard and a land map lit up one wall. “It’s secured. But we traced Milner’s movements and discovered he and Guiles were taken from Portland as they left the colloquium.?
??

  “Their guards?”

  “All dead”—Talen tapped twice and the screen zoomed in to show a series of buildings sprawled over about a mile—“which is why we didn’t know they were taken until an hour ago.” He stood. “This is where I think they are in central Idaho.”

  “Why?”

  “The Kurjans started preparing this facility about a year ago—I’ve had my eye on it. Just this weekend the number of guards quadrupled.”

  “Is Franco there?” Dage grabbed a band from his pocket, yanked his hair out of his face, and tied it back with the band. He needed the location of the current Kurjan ruler to take him out. The fiend had planned to mate with Emma, thus sealing his fate.

  Talen shook his head. “I don’t think so. Last my sources knew he was still in Canada.”

  Dage kept silent for a moment, ticking off scenarios in his head. “Think it’s a trap?”

  “Yep.” Talen nodded. “More than likely.”

  Lily sat forward. “I don’t understand.”

  Dage began cataloguing weapons in his head and turned toward her. “The Kurjans must know you’re with us. They also know we wouldn’t trade you.” He frowned. “What were Prophet Milner’s instructions?”

  “He said to tell you I was going home and to call my guards to escort me.” Lily drummed her fingertips on the table. “Do you think they know I’ve been infected?”

  “Yes,” Dage said. “The waiter would’ve watched to make sure you drank the tea.” Of course the Kurjans wanted Lily. They’d want to study her reaction as well as trace the progression of the virus—until they injected her with the catalyst.

  “But”—Lily’s face drained what little color remained—“it’s a good plan. I mean, if I ordered the prophet guards to take me home, you wouldn’t stop me.”

  The hell he wouldn’t. “Of course not,” Dage said smoothly. “Okay. Talen, you have ten minutes to devise a plan. You, Jase, Conn, Caleb, and I are the only ones going from here. Everyone else remains on high alert.”

  Talen gave a short nod. “In case the trap is for us to leave.”

  “Yes. Find Caleb and ask how fast his men can get to the Idaho compound. The Kurjans won’t be expecting them. Meet in the south armory in ten minutes.” Dage pivoted on his heel and stalked out of the room, jogging back down the hall to his private conference room to play the game.