Claimed

  Emma crossed back into the lab, and Kane gave her a lopsided smile. The guy probably had super vampire hearing or something. She sighed. “We need to find an obstetrician and get an ultrasound machine.”

  He cleared his throat. “Talen has already contacted two obstetricians who will be here next week. But ultrasounds don’t work on vampire babies.”

  “What? Why?”

  Kane shrugged. “Let’s just say the waves can’t penetrate to see the baby—too much natural protection.”

  That might be good. Maybe the baby had some innate protection against the virus as well. Unlike Cara. “I’d like to study up on what to expect from a vampire birth.” Emma had some work to do.

  Kane nodded. “Of course.” He tossed down his files. “I need to head into town for a few more supplies and we’ll call Moira when I return. Want to come?”

  “No thanks.” Emma shifted back to her printouts. “I have a couple more thoughts with the AC21 sample I want to try while they’re still fresh in my head.”

  “Okay.” Kane left her to her work.

  She studied the colorful chart. They’d combined the cancer treatment with a werewolf’s blood—from the werewolf contained two floors down. And nothing. An idea began to tingle at the base of her neck. What if she combined the treatment with werewolf and vampire blood?

  Excitement rushed through her. The protein would cling to the chromosome and perhaps antibodies from both werewolf and vampire would then attack.

  A sudden, blaring alarm cut through the silence. She punched in keys on the nearest laptop, brought up the fourth clean lab, and gasped. Devon Jones lay on the floor surrounded by broken vials. What the heck had happened? And what the hell was he doing in Lab Four? Only she and Kane had access.

  With her heart beating against her ribs, she ran down the hall and punched the code into the wall pad, leaning forward for the iris scan and giving her code. The door opened and she hustled inside, following the same procedure in both the ultraviolet room and the showers—overriding the computer’s warnings that she hadn’t followed the guidelines. Visions of Devon’s goofy jokes and blushing face as he talked about Sandy Newcomb ran through her mind. She had to help him.

  Finally she dashed into the lab, throwing the door closed behind her, only to slide across liquid and fall to her knees next to Devon. “Ouch.” Her breath caught in her throat as she leaned over to peer at a piece of glass stuck in her knee. With a groan, she ripped it out and blood welled. She felt for Devon’s neck.

  His pulse was weak, and his eyes fluttered open. “Weird lasers. Get out. Get out right now.”

  Lasers? She looked around the room, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. “What are you talking about?”

  The color returned to his face and he weakly pushed himself to a seated position. He pushed curly hair back from his forehead, his blue eyes bloodshot and a rueful smile sliding across his face. “Some weird red beam came from the camera and zapped me.” He pointed to a camera in the far corner.

  A laser in the camera? She frowned. They should probably get the heck out of the lab until she could figure out what happened. Blood, chemicals and broken vials littered the floor and caught Emma’s gaze. Her knee already throbbed. “What in the hell are you doing in here?”

  Devon sighed, struggling to his feet and holding out a hand to tug her up. “I’m sorry. Sandy screwed up with the protein results I gave you yesterday and she just panicked. Figured you’d fire her. So—”

  “So you broke into a secured lab? Are you crazy?” Emma released his hand. “You know how secretive trade issues can become—we’re dealing with drug patents that could earn billions of dollars.”

  “I know. But Sandy mixed up the ratio of protein to the antiviral agent, which would’ve really screwed up your research and rendered your samples moot.”

  Emma sucked in air. “I understand. But why not just call me? In the release you signed, you promised to follow all the rules as well as keep trade secrets.” Damn but she hated lying to the man. She frowned. “How did you get in here, anyway?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea the combined years of education a few of us have? It wasn’t easy getting in here, but no system is perfect.” He eyed the glass littering the floor and paled again. “I passed out against the counter and apparently made quite the mess. Please tell me we’re not dealing with any type of airborne agents.” Fear filled his voice.

  “We’re not,” she guessed, glancing for the glass she’d removed. “Though we need to take a blood sample from you.” As well as one from her. Hopefully the virus hadn’t been on the glass that had cut her. The scent of bleach filled her nostrils. A beaker of the stuff had broken and spilled to the floor, where she’d tossed the glass. It’d be impossible to test what it had contained now. How many beakers down? At least five. And at least one of those had held the virus. Fear caught her breath in her throat.

  The door slid open and two burly guards dodged inside, guns drawn. “Dr. Paulsen, are you all right?”

  “Yes.” She tugged Devon toward the door. “Please turn off the alarm, everything’s fine.” She wasn’t sure what she’d do if the men stopped her, but they remained outside the lab. Seconds later the alarm thankfully cut off. All but running into the all access lab, she grabbed a syringe and turned toward Devon. “Roll up your sleeve.”

  Thirty minutes later she followed protocol after leaving the lab and emerged on the other side in a clean jumpsuit. Did she have a duty to tell Kane about Devon? Probably. Though she couldn’t blame Devon for wanting to save his girlfriend’s ass.

  Emma rolled up her pant leg. A deep slash continued to bleed. Sharp pain attacked her nerves. What vial had nailed her, anyway? She surveyed the angry red flesh, tears burning her eyes. Okay. She could fix this. She took a deep breath and concentrated. Dage had the ability to heal himself, surely some of that had rubbed off on her.

  She put all her energy into healing her skin, picturing the split ends mending together as Dage’s chest had mended together in the forest. Nothing. Damn it.

  With an irritated huff, she reached for the first aid kit under the table and sprayed antiseptic before covering her knee with a white bandage. What were the odds she’d been infected? Probably slim. Though certainly it was possible. She opened her mind to search for Dage, but his shields remained tightly in place. A chill of dread wound down her spine. Where was the king?

  The king tapped his communicator. “Caleb, your men in place?”

  “Yes. I took out the two guards on the south entry.” His friend’s deep voice came clearly across the line. “Waiting for your mark.”

  Dage gave a hand signal to Jordan. The shifter nodded, his entire body prepared to run for the building. He’d remain in human form unless werewolves or enemy shifters made an appearance.

  “Talen, at your ready,” Dage hissed.

  He counted. One. Two. Boom! An explosion rent the peaceful night followed by two more as his brother opened the side of the main building. Bricks flew, dust billowed into the air along with fire, and the sound of gunfire pattered through the mess.

  Grabbing his gun, he ran full bore into the smoke and through the gaping hole to immediately take one Kurjan soldier to the ground, ripping off his head. Blood sprayed across his face, burning like cigarette ashes. Two enemy soldiers rushed for him, one hit the floor when Talen leaped through the air, shooting green fire. Jase took out the other Kurjan by slashing a knife through the enemy’s throat in a movement too fast to track.

  Dage ran into the hallway, his back to the wall. Smoke choked the oxygen and a high-pitched alarm began to trill through the compound. The steps and shouts from running men competed with the rhythmic warning.

  He found his center and silence descended within his mind, within his soul. The soldier threw the king out of the way, and his intent focused with a razor’s edge. Clarity of purpose calmed him as he ran into the murk.

  “We’re in the communication room,” Conn said through the earp
iece. “Prophet Milner is three floors down in a small cell. Two guards visible outside the door.” A rapid typing could be heard. “Stairwell located in northeast corner.” He typed again and swore. “Guiles isn’t here.”

  Dage gave a short nod. “Good strategy. Find where they took Guiles.” Thin smoke filtered through the air. “Team one to stairwell, teams two and three provide cover,” he ordered. Green fire shot from ahead and he ducked and rolled, coming up firing. “Jase. Clear the path.” Hopefully Jase had practiced using his gift to control the elements.

  Dage’s youngest brother emerged at his side in combat gear, his gaze toward the smoke, one hand outstretched. The smoke began to swirl, gathering speed and energy like a tornado. With a flick of Jase’s wrist, the entire mass rushed down the hall, scattering bricks, dirt, and bodies.

  One Kurjan soldier became caught up in the swirling mass and cried out when he hit the wall, bones breaking and blood spraying like rubies through the mist. He crumbled toward the hard-packed earth, and the walls trembled when he landed.

  Jase grinned. “You want fire next?”

  “Move now.” Dage’s boots echoed against the ground, leaping over bodies and debris.

  Talen set a charge at a heavy metal door. “Fire in the hole.”

  Everyone ducked and protected their heads. A loud explosion rocked the building, and heat flashed across Dage’s skin even through the protection. Battle sounds silenced for a moment as if the building itself drew a breath. Then cries, grunts, and gunfire echoed again in his earpiece.

  Time slowed.

  His vision sharpened.

  Dage jumped into the gaping hole and cleared one flight of stairs, ducking when a sharp blade slashed at his neck. He pivoted and shot a roundhouse kick toward a Kurjan soldier, throwing him back against the cement block wall. Talen was on him within a second, knife flashing.

  Three more Kurjans ran up the stairs, red hair flying, sharp incisors glimmering in the dim light. Talen froze one in place with a thought, and the Kurjan’s purple eyes widened in shock and surprise.

  “I never get tired of seeing you do that.” Dage chuckled, then threw his shoulder into the gut of a soldier, and flipped him onto the floor. The bastard slashed a blade into Dage’s calf. “Ouch.” One plunge of Dage’s knife ended the fight.

  “Thank you.” Talen threw the second soldier at Jase, who blocked a punch and kicked the laser gun out of the Kurjan’s hand. The soldier aimed a punch at Jase’s head, then howled in pain when his hand smacked into an invisible wall, the sound of bones breaking echoing over the blaring alarm.

  Jase reached out and almost casually decapitated the monster with a clean slice of a double-edged knife.

  Dage shifted his gaze to his brother. “How did you do that?”

  Jase shrugged. “I just rearranged the oxygen molecules until they hardened to granite. No big deal.”

  No big deal? Kane was correct. Dage hadn’t been using Jase’s gifts. “Right.” Dage focused on the still standing Kurjan, its muscles shaking with the need to break free of Talen’s mental hold. “He’s not very strong.”

  “No.” Talen took a deep breath. “I can’t kill him like this.”

  Dage shrugged. “So knock him out. I don’t care.”

  The Kurjan hit the floor.

  “You to the third level yet?” Conn said through the earpiece.

  “No. We ran into resistance.” Dage led the way down the steps, increasing his pace to a jog.

  “Step on it. The Kurjans got a message out—reinforcements arrive within ten minutes.” Conn swore, then the sound of a neck snapping filled the line. “Sorry. This one snuck up on me.” The alarm abruptly cut off. “I’m going to blow the control room and go create a return path for you. Be clear in five. Conn out.”

  “I’ll take lead,” Dage said, jumping down a flight of stairs.

  “No.” Talen leapt over the railing, landing several cement steps ahead.

  “I’ve got the rear,” Jase muttered.

  Dage began jogging behind his brother. “What the hell? You two are flanking me? I taught you both to fight.”

  Talen reached the landing and readied his stance. “It’s a fine job you’ve done. But we’re at war and losing our king would be, er, bad.”

  Dage reached the landing with Jase on his heels, hating when his brother was right. He yanked his gun from his waist to point at the industrial metal door. Checking to see Jase in position, the king nodded to Talen.

  A swift kick had the door exploding open followed by green bursts of fire. Dage swiveled out of the way, shielding Talen whether he wished it or not. The man had a child on the way. Three bullets hit Dage’s vest, knocking him back a step. A hazy wall instantly appeared before him to be punctured by green blasts which dropped to the floor with heavy pings.

  Jesus. He eyed Jase out of the corner of his eye. “Quite the talent.”

  “I can’t hold it.” Jase leveled his gun. “Shoot now.”

  The wall disintegrated and Dage fired. A howl of pain echoed through the underground space. “That’s why you aim for the neck and not the vest, dumbass.”

  Talen dodged past him, throwing a Kurjan against the far wall while Jase took two soldiers on, wind whipping their hair into their faces.

  Dage darted past the fight, boots pounding throughout the dim tunnel, his eyes scouting ahead. Why weren’t there more guards?

  Conn’s voice echoed in his earpiece. “Reinforcements arrive in three minutes. Hurry, damn it.”

  Dage came to the end of the corridor and set his back against the wall before taking a deep breath, pivoting on one heel, and darting around the corner. His shot hit the first guard between the eyes. It went down, blood spraying. Not dead, but certainly unconscious for the duration.

  The second guard lifted his weapon and failed to get off a shot before Dage was on him, knife sliding through cartilage and bone like scissors through silk. Another young soldier.

  Standing, Dage studied the heavy metal door with industrial locks. A flick of his wrist had the locks disengaging with loud clicks. He yanked the door open, weapon at the ready.

  The prophet sat bound and gagged on hard-packed earth, his back against the cement blocks of the wall, his eyes a bizarre mixture of yellow and blue. Dage had never seen Milner’s vampire colors. He’d figured the guy had only metallic brown eyes.

  Dage jumped inside, slashing through the ropes and helping Milner to his feet. The sour smell of anger mixed with fear in the small cell.

  The prophet stumbled. “Sedatives.” He clutched a bony hand into Dage’s arm. “Lily?”

  “She’s secure.” Dage helped the prophet through the doorway, stopping to survey the hall before dragging the man toward the stairwell to find Jase and Talen at ready. “Go,” he ordered.

  Talen took the lead while Dage half carried Milner up the stairs and through the deserted hallway, their boots thudding on the floor, smoke covering every surface.

  The sun blasted down as they ran out of the building. The Kurjans couldn’t follow them outside. Dage growled. “Casualties?”

  “Several,” Conn said through the earpiece, waving from outside an engaged Black Hawk. “We sent the severely injured to the Realm hospital in Canada, minor injuries went to Colorado.”

  “Caleb’s forces?”

  “Five to Canada, the rest home. They’re good fighters.” Conn helped Dage load Milner in the helicopter, jumping inside to flank the prophet. “Our troops and allies are clear.”

  Dage nodded, sliding the door shut after Jase and Talen had jumped inside. “Go.”

  The bird lifted into the sky and all eyes focused on the rapidly receding ground. “At your mark,” Dage said.

  Conn waited a moment, then pushed a button on the slim control in his hand. A rumble filled the air before the compound exploded. Bricks, bodies, and wood shattered into the sky to fall and litter the earth. Angry black smoke billowed into the air while fire ripped across the buildings, eating everything in a blaze of he
at.

  Prophet Milner gasped, his eyes wide and his hand at his throat. “You blew up the entire complex.”

  Dage smiled without any humor. “Welcome to the war, Prophet.”

  Chapter 17

  Franco tipped his head back, allowing the fifty-year-old scotch to burn his throat. He gazed out the wall of windows in his office set into the cliffs of Baffin Island. The sea, cold and merciless, stared back. Calm, inscrutable but teeming with life he could only imagine. Life outside the walls.

  Soon he’d lead his people to a destiny beyond their imaginations.

  “Nunavut sucks,” said a churlish voice from the doorway. “I’m not meant for Canada.”

  No. The boy was made for greatness. Franco inclined his head, inviting his nephew into the room. “Isolation suits me.”

  Kalin stalked inside and dropped into a chair on the other side of the marble desk. “Not me.”

  “No. Perhaps not.” Franco settled into his leather chair and took another sip of scotch. His nephew had tied back his black hair, away from his not so pasty face. He’d find it easier than anyone in their race to pass for human—with makeup, and contacts to cover those purplish green eyes.

  “I need to get the hell out of here.”

  Puberty did suck, if Franco remembered right. “The helicopter and planes are at your disposal.”

  Surprise flashed through Kalin’s bizarre eyes. “They are?”

  God. Who had green in their eyes, anyway? “Sure.” Reaching for a gold coaster, Franco set the crystal down. “I understand your need to hunt. Please keep in mind I like it here, so I ask you to find women elsewhere. Take a weekend in Vegas, one in Omaha, and so on.”

  Kalin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t mind?”

  “Couldn’t care less.” So long as dead human females didn’t pile up outside his door, of course. “Though you know this is a phase, right? The need to kill does abate.” Well, maybe not abate. But it became honed, focused. Only truly worthy prey caught Franco’s attention these days.