Alpha's Promise

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Kane nodded. “Yep. That’s right.”

  “So we need more information before we do anything with Quade’s world. Or Ulric’s. A lot more, and you’re the only person who can get it for us.” She focused on Ivar. “If you want this mission, which means you’ll have to go twice and somehow return twice. The first time will be doable, based on the math. I’m not sure about the second time. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “I do,” he said soberly.

  She studied him and then nodded, her eyes darkening. “I’ve had Emma’s scientists working on instruments with the 3D printer that aren’t made of metal. If you return to Quade’s world, you have to look for differences since you were last there, and you need to take measurements and leave several instruments if possible. We need that data to determine how much danger that world is in. All the worlds, actually.”

  Ivar finished his coffee, his gut roiling. “Is there a chance I could take the path and not find Quade’s world?”

  “Absolutely,” Promise whispered. “You had three worlds balancing each other with inertia, gravity, time, and who knows what else. One blew up. The other two have certainly shifted as well as changed, and unless one is much more powerful than the other, they’re heading for a collision.” She sighed. “Such an event could take a millennia…or two days. We have no way of knowing absent a practical experiment.”

  Ivar stood. “Then it’s time we conducted an experiment. The faster the better, right?” he asked.

  Promise nodded. “It’s even bigger than that. We went through all the data the Fae supplied as well as your memories, and for every journey, there’s a starting point.”

  Of course. Ivar cocked his head. “Earth, right?”

  She swallowed. “More importantly, earth at certain times of the year, which means certain positions in space. This week is one of the optimal times.”

  That figured. “Okay.” Ivar’s brain had been healing for long enough. He drew on the power of the universe, letting it sing through his blood. Then he jumped through the void and landed at his cabin again. Yeah, he was stronger, back to normal. Grabbing a pinecone, he jumped back to the conference room.

  “Show off,” Mercy said, licking maple syrup off her fingers. “So, Professor. Just how dangerous is this? I mean, should you two go spend a few nights together?”

  Regret filled Promise’s eyes. “No. Faster is better. We’re definitely in a time crunch.”

  “Now,” Ivar agreed. “Let’s do this right now.”

  Mercy nodded. “Promise, I’m thinking your man will need assistance reaching the first jump-off point. Correct?”

  Promise nodded. “Definitely. He could do it alone, but he’s not accustomed to otherworld jumping, so he should conserve his energy for the jump to Quade.” Worry glimmered in her eyes for the briefest of moments. “I would very much like to visit at least to that point.”

  “I’ll take Ivar,” Logan Kyllwood said, looking at his mate. “I’m well familiar with Brookville.”

  Ivar lobbed the pinecone at Promise. “Nice job, Professor. I knew you could do it.” But she was staying safely at demon headquarters whether she liked it or not.

  She looked at him across the conference room, past the others present, her gaze serious now. “This is a quick hop type of mission. You had better come back.”

  Ah, shit. She did know him. He had no intention of leaving Quade there, and if somebody had to stay, it was gonna be him. “We’d better suit up,” he said. It was time to go. If he waffled, she’d talk him into staying.

  There was a flurry of discussion, issuing orders, and expressing good wishes, and then he stood outside the headquarters with Promise and Logan.

  He drew Promise aside.

  “I want to go to the first point,” she said, urgency in her tone. “In case there’s something to observe.”

  “No.” He didn’t have time to treat her with kid gloves. “Stay here and stay safe so I can do my job.” He leaned down to press a kiss to her mouth. They’d been leading up to this moment since their first second together.

  “You don’t have much time.” She picked a backpack off the ground. “We don’t know if you’ll make it through carrying anything, but it’s worth the risk of losing these. Here are the instruments I’ve had Emma create with notations on each for how to use it. Bring the atmosphere readings back. Also, you understand the Doppler effect, right?”

  He nodded and slung the pack over his shoulder.

  She clutched her hand against his forged ribs. “Promise you’ll return.”

  “I will.” He didn’t know when or how, but he’d be back. “I promise.” She meant more than he could say. The woman was both cerebral and physical, and they were perfect together.

  She handed him a picture of Haven. “Find out if they’ve met.”

  He nodded. “I will.” Logan took his arm. It went against his nature to let Logan take the leap, but he did it to conserve his energy.

  The jump to Mercy’s Brookville was smooth, and Ivar landed on the soft grass, releasing Logan instantly. He looked around the peaceful meadow and turned to face the farthest right sun. “We went this way.” Sucking in air, he tried to remember the paths he’d taken to get to Quade’s world, and then finally zeroed in just on that world. He was a demon, and he flew by straight paths. So that’s how he’d go. “Take care of Promise for me. Just in case.”

  “You know I will, brother.” Logan grabbed him in a bear hug that would’ve broken his ribs had it been possible to break them. “Your woman is right in that you have to come back with information before we do anything else. There are worlds at issue.”

  Ivar nodded. “I understand.” And he did. But if there was a way to bring Quade back, he was going to do it. “Bye, brother.” He shut his eyes and imagined the paths he’d taken so long ago to get to Quade’s hell world. Was instinct and subconscious memory going to be enough? He drew on the energy of the brooks, on the sweetness of the grass, on the power of the brother next to him.

  And he jumped.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The ride was impossibly long and complex until Ivar barely twisted a hard left and then squeezed through the final vortex that tossed him around so violently his teeth cut into his mouth. It hadn’t been that tight before. He landed on ice and skidded several yards. He covered his head to protect it, but shards of ice slashed up and tore his thighs to shit. He finally came to a stop, his body freezing. He shoved himself to his feet, perched precariously between two blade-sharp pieces of ice. Something howled in the distance. He blinked, shivering. This was the wrong world.

  Quade’s world had held jagged rocks surrounded by lava and the stench of burning sulfur. Ivar looked up. The sky was a swelling purple and the atmosphere painfully heavy. Wait a minute. That was familiar. As were the brutal burnt-gold color of the trees, but now thick icicles bent their massive branches.

  Where was the lava?

  He slid over the ice toward the forest, avoiding the sharp blades the best he could. Either this was a twin world with opposite weather, or things had changed. Just how much time had passed in this world during the last three months of earth time? He clambered through the trees, avoiding the sharp branches.

  A crack popped from high up, and the sky seemed to open, showing red on the other side. Wait a minute. This had happened before, but there had been silver. The crack was wider and stayed for longer this time. Then it closed.

  A body dropped from high up, landing in front of him. The figure was covered from head to toe in fur, including a mask.

  “Quade?” Ivar asked, settling into a fighting stance, even though he was bleeding from both legs.

  Quade ripped off the mask, his eyes a burning aqua. He looked Ivar up and down. “Vike?”

  “Yes.” Ivar moved to him. “You’re still alive.” He looked around. “Where’s all the lava?”
/>   “World changed.” Quade shook his head, and his long black hair swung in clumps. “Why are you here? I saved you. Sent you home.”

  A creature howled in the distance, sounding closer than before.

  Ivar tensed. “I made it home, and now I’m back. Need to take you home.”

  “Can’t go.” Quade motioned for Ivar to follow him. “The fire is coming. Hurry.”

  Fire? It was all ice. But he’d been through this before, so he ducked his head and followed Quade through the ice field to another forest made of burnt trees holding branches with razor-sharp bark. Now all of it glimmered with ice everywhere, which only served to sharpen the bark. Quade took several different trails, winding around and finally reaching a series of tall rocks.

  They climbed, hand over hand, to reach the same cave as before.

  Ivar panted, trying to heal all his cuts. He dumped out the backpack and set the odd boxes along the far wall to record whatever it was Promise wanted.

  Quade sat and leaned against the smooth rock of the cave. “What the fuck are you doing back here?”

  A complete sentence. So the Kayrs brother did know how to speak.

  Ivar sucked in air. He’d forgotten about the difference in gravity or altitude or pretty damn much everything. He retrieved the devices to put back inside the pack. “I’ve been gone three months. How long has it been for you?”

  Quade shook his head. “Centuries? Long enough for the lava to dry up and then turn to ice. The creatures still live, though.” He reached for what looked like dried jerky. “Hungry?”

  “No.” Ivar looked toward the entrance. “When Ronan’s bubble burst, it changed yours and Ulric’s.”

  “Yeah.” Quade chewed thoughtfully, looking more barbarian than vampire. “The cracks in the sky are longer, and I’ve seen Ulric. We’re getting closer to each other. Soon we’ll collide.” He scratched his neck. “Will we get the chance to fight or just die?” He didn’t sound concerned about either possibility.

  “Which do you want?” Ivar asked, curious.

  “Doesn’t matter so long as Ulric dies,” Quade said, ripping off another piece and dropping parts in his overly long beard. “I stopped feeling a long time ago. Millenia or two. Maybe more.” He focused, his eyes so much like Ronan’s it hurt to look at them. “Ronan is well.”

  “Mated and happy. Wants you home.”

  “This is home,” Quade said. Fire flashed across the rock entrance, throwing intense heat inside that boiled their skin.

  Ivar bit his lip to keep from screaming. Then it was over. He sent emergency healing cells to his bubbling skin. “That happen a lot?” he gasped.

  “Three times in a cycle day,” Quade confirmed, the bubbles on his face remaining. “Takes me that long to heal now.” He scratched a second mark in the dirt. “As soon as the third one comes, I have to run and move the magnets again.” He sighed, the sound soul weary. “They’re weak. Not sure what happened when the worlds changed, but they’ve lost their charge. Any idea how to recharge them?”

  “No,” Ivar said. “But I’ll find out.”

  “It’ll be too late. The less they charge, the faster we fall. Maybe that’s good. A hard collision will serve better to kill Ulric.”

  “You need to leave. Tell me what to do to protect the world, and I’ll tell you how to go back home,” Ivar urged. It was his turn to serve. To protect Quade.

  “Can’t.” Quade shrugged. “Every day I draw closer to Ulric and his world. I can stem the tide briefly by the routine with the magnets, but it’d take too long to teach you. If I knew we’d just collide and die, I’d stop. But his world is bigger. More powerful. I might die and he might be set free. Can’t allow that.”

  “Teach me. I’ll learn fast,” Ivar urged, ready to throw Quade through a portal. But how could he set Quade on the path through the portal? Only the Fae had that skill, and he hadn’t had time to learn it.

  “Nay. You have to leave. The balance is absolute.” Quade tugged at the fur of his boots. “Whenever there’s a change, the lava gets worse. If one animal is born, another must die. But not two. See?” He leaned forward, a look of madness crossing his hollowed cheekbones. His arms were thinner than last time—too thin. “Can only kill rarely to eat.”

  “I don’t need food,” Ivar countered. “Just tell me what to do.”

  “No time. You have to leave after the second fire, or we descend. Can’t descend any faster.” For a second lucidity glimmered in his eyes. “Find out what happens if we collide. If I should let it happen or not.”

  The fire hit again, this time with a bright blue color, burning even the walls.

  Ivar ducked his head and let the pain wash over him. God, it was excruciating. “Please let me help.”

  Quade jumped up and grabbed Ivar’s arm in an iron grip. “No time. Trust me. It wants my blood, anyway. You have to go or we’ll go faster. Get answers if you can. A direction.”

  Ivar had known, deep down, that Quade couldn’t leave yet. “Do you remember how to read?” Ivar handed over the other pack.

  “Yes.” Quade took it, frowning.

  “Follow the instructions. I think those need to go by the magnets and at any other far points you find. Once they finish working or wear out, just bring them back here.” That would definitely happen before Ivar could return. “That’ll get you the answers we need.”

  “All right. You need to go. Now,” Quade said.

  Ivar tore the picture out of his back pocket and unfolded the paper. “Do you know her?”

  Quade took the photograph and remained perfectly still. “Where did you get this?”

  “We met her. Sought her out. She has skills—”

  Quade pivoted and rammed Ivar into the wall. He leaned in close, his breath foul. “Leave her out of this. She does not exist. Got it, brother?”

  Ivar didn’t try to break the hold. “She’s part demon and part Fae. If anybody can help you out of here, it’s her.” Especially if the path was closing, as Ivar suspected. He probably had only one more chance to make it here, now that he knew the path. “We need her.”

  “Promise me,” Quade growled. “I’ve asked for nothing. For centuries, for an eternity, I’ve asked for nothing. Except for this. Leave this woman be.”

  Ivar could give nothing but the vow. “I promise.”

  Quade released him, taking the picture. “If you can get answers, then do so. If not, I’ll fight the collision until my last breath, and then if there’s a chance, I’ll fight and kill him.”

  “I’ll get you answers and be back to help. To take your place if nothing else, so be prepared to tell me how.” Ivar clutched his brother’s arm. “Until then, stay alive. We’ll get you freedom.”

  Quade’s mangled lip half lifted. “Don’t want freedom. Just want to end this with Ulric dead. That’s all.”

  A swirling mass of wind billowed up.

  Ivar’s fangs dropped, and he ripped open his wrist, grabbing Quade and shoving it in his mouth. “Drink. I don’t need it.”

  Quade fought him for two seconds and then groaned, clamping on with his mouth and drinking deeply. He took enough to suffuse his face with color and then jerked his head free, panting.

  Ivar gave him a second to compose himself and then yanked Quade back for a hug. He couldn’t just throw Quade into the void, because he had no idea what to do to keep this world safe for the time being. “I’ll be back, brother.”

  “Don’t forget your promise about the woman. Keep her away from all of this.” With that, Quade stood back.

  Ivar drew on the power of the wind, turned, and jumped, hoping he reached Brookville.

  Darkness swallowed him with a heavy anticipation.

  * * * *

  Promise paced the physics room, muttering at her equations. How the heck had she allowed Ivar to go alone?

  Mercy popped
her head into the doorway, sucking on a popsicle. “You still busy?”

  “It’s all math all the time,” Promise murmured. “I take it Logan returned safely?”

  “Yep. We’re going for a boat ride and wanted to see if you’d like to join us. It could get your mind off Ivar.” Mercy finished the orange treat.

  Promise couldn’t leave her boards. “No, but thank you.” She paused and stretched her neck. “I can feel Ivar. Somehow, I feel him close.” It didn’t make sense.

  “It’s the mating,” Mercy said. “So long as there’s a way to connect, you’ll feel it. The connection should help you to relax.”

  Promise tried to calculate her new reality and hit pause on it. “I’ll figure that out later. Tonight, I’m going to keep working.”

  “Suit yourself.” Mercy stepped inside to read the boards. “Logan is getting the boat. Wow. You’ve done a bunch more work already.”

  Promise turned back to her boards just as her laptop dinged. She moved to it and found Mark on the screen. “Hi. Any progress?” she asked.

  He angled closer to the camera. “What’s up with all the boards?”

  “Working hard,” she said, drawing out a chair to sit.

  “Where are you, anyway?” He pushed his glasses up his nose.

  She grinned. “A very nice research room.”

  “At demon headquarters?” he asked, his gaze serious.

  Mercy gasped and moved closer to the computer. “You told somebody? A human?” she whispered tersely.

  “No.” Promise sat back. Her head spun. “How in the world do you know about—”

  He shook his head. “You get too caught up in the equations and ignore the reality. I’ve enjoyed your innocence and dedication to saving the planet, but come on. This research, this discovery, is too much to sit on. The equations you’ve computed will win a Nobel Prize.”

  Her math? She gasped. The laptop from the university that she’d brought with her. She hadn’t thought for one second that he’d try to gain access to her files. He’d always been trustworthy. Even so, she had nothing about other species in there. “Mark? Who are you working for?”