“That would be us,” responded a male voice from behind her—in her room. In demon headquarters. Her mind went through a million thoughts before her body caught up. She jumped up to see a blond-haired male and two huge Cyst soldiers right inside the research room. How in the world had they teleported? All her research indicated that the Cyst didn’t have the ability.
“Niall,” Mercy snapped, pressing her hands to her hips and staring at the blond-haired guy. He was much smaller than the two Cyst soldiers. “You total dick.” She jumped for Promise.
Niall drew a gun from his hip and fired it, hitting Mercy midair. She cried out and crashed into Promise, smashing them both into the desk.
Pain rocketed up Promise’s arm to her neck. “Teleport,” she hissed.
“Can’t.” Mercy rolled to her feet, her body vibrating. “Dickwad hit me with a blaster gun. Shit. This is bad. Scream.”
The Cyst solder in the lead lifted a green gun. “One sound, and I’ll end you.”
Mercy angled herself in front of Promise. “Niall. You want me. Not the human.”
“Oh, bitch.” Niall’s teeth gleamed in the computer lights. “You’re right I want you, but the Kurjans want the physicist. Badly. Your buddy Mark has shared your research with us, and we need your help. We’re going to demand it, actually.”
Mercy’s body still shook from the laser stream that had hit her. “I should’ve let Logan kill you.”
“Oh, we’ll get to him again soon,” Niall said. He motioned them forward. “Bring them over here.”
How could there not be some sort of alarm to warn that the enemy had just teleported in? Wait a minute. They had to know the space, the point on a graph to land. How had they known where to find her? Promise slapped at the Cyst soldier who reached for her first. “Drake, the kid. He managed to explore this area a little bit.” Add in Mark’s view from the laptop, and the Cyst had been led right to them.
An alarm blared through the rainy day.
“Finally,” Mercy breathed, kicking up at the other Cyst solder with both feet. He grabbed her, lifting high and turning. The second Cyst solder manacled Promise, lifting her against his chest. With a furious bellow, Niall charged them all, hitting midcenter, and then the earth dropped away.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ivar landed in Brookville, barely. The vortex or wormhole or whatever it was tried to rip off his legs and keep him. He lay face-down on the sweet grass, panting heavily, his blood running red to the brooks. What was left of it, anyway. He’d given Quade as much as he could. The pain engulfed his entire body so completely that he couldn’t concentrate on one area.
Did he have to sit up to teleport? Probably not.
Turning his face to the side, blowing grass out of his nose, he closed his eyes and tried to pull on the energy from the brooks around him. He imagined demon headquarters, and the air fizzled around him. Then he pictured Promise’s face, alight with intelligence and excited to talk about equations. That did it.
He shot through time and space, almost in slow motion, and landed flat on his stomach and squarely on Adare.
Adare coughed and fell on his butt, wrapping his arms around Ivar’s waist. “Holy fuck. You’re bleeding out.” His eyes a glittering black, he shoved Ivar to sit up and then ripped open his own wrist, holding it to Ivar’s mouth.
There wasn’t time to argue or talk tough. Ivar took enough blood to launch his healing cells into motion and then shoved Adare’s arm back. “Thanks, brother.” Man, he hurt. Everywhere. Then he caught the commotion around him. Soldiers dressed in black, fully armed and loaded. In the research room, shoving the whiteboards out of the way. “What happened?” His heart kicked hard, and he stood, looking for Promise. If there had been a breach, she’d be locked down safely. “Where’s Promise?”
Adare stood and planted a hand on his shoulder. “She and Mercy were taken about an hour ago. Video shows two Cyst soldiers and that Fae ex-king Mercy got fired. Teleported right in here and took them. We need defenses against that—better than we have.”
Rage catapulted through Ivar so quickly, his wounds started bleeding faster. “Where are they?” He threw the two devices he’d brought back for Promise on a table. Then he pulled open the door and ripped the damn thing off the hinges.
Ronan and Logan came running from the far hallway, already dressed in combat gear. Fury darkened Logan’s face until his eyes glowed. “It’s my fault. I thought the Fae king was a harmless douchebag, and I let him live. Never thought the coward would work with the Kurjans.” The dark growl in the demon’s voice was as hoarse as Ivar’s. “I’ll rip off his head this time.”
“Oh, that bastard is mine,” Ivar said, his nerves firing with the need to kill. Niall had been the one to throw him into the hell loop, and Ivar had planned to hunt him down after getting Quade home safely. If the bastard hurt Promise in any way, he’d suffer before dying. Horribly.
Ivar could barely think. Oh, God. They had Promise. Helplessness mixed with rage inside him, and he had to banish all emotion to think. “What do we know?” His gut hurt worse than his wounds.
Logan pulled out an odd black scanner. “They jumped to a place outside of Seattle.” A little green blip showed on a map.
Ivar passed. “What the hell is that?”
Logan looked up, his eyebrows rising. “A plastic scanner. My mate is a smart-ass fairy who can teleport anywhere on this planet or world she wants. You’re crazy if you think I didn’t tag her first chance I got.” He frowned. “You haven’t tagged yours yet? Highly recommend it, brother.” Even though the words were light, the fear in Logan’s eyes promised death.
Ivar started for the outside doors, going into battle mode even while bleeding. He sent as many healing cells to his legs as he could. “You’re the only one who can teleport with metal because you mated Mercy. You and I will go in first via teleportation, and backup will have to arrive in helicopters.”
Logan looked him over. “You’re burned and bleeding.”
Ivar grabbed his arm. “I don’t give a shit. Let’s go.”
“Wait a minute.” Ronan pushed him toward the conference room. “We have a satellite feed bringing up the entire area. At the very least, let’s see what we can see before you just jump in. You can also take three minutes and heal your fucking legs. And face. You’re a mess.”
He didn’t like it, not a bit. But Ronan was right. “Okay. Three minutes, and we go.”
Logan nodded sharply. “Agreed.” He followed Ivar toward the room.
Zane Kyllwood burst through the front door, followed by Benny. “We’re teleporting in with you,” he said.
Ivar looked at the demon leader. Just as he was about to answer, King Dage Kayrs jogged in the back door, his black hair tied at the neck and his silver eyes pissed. Seriously so. “I’m coming. Helicopters will be backup, but those of us who can jump are jumping.”
Logan nodded. “Everyone should know that I haven’t learned the ability to transport weapons yet. No metal, gentlemen.”
Benny smiled, his expression fierce. “Good. That should at least even the odds in a fight. Fuckers.”
Ivar’s chest swelled. He had family, and he had friends. Even though he’d been lost and nearly destroyed, these men were his family. They’d help him protect Promise. His throat closed. “Let’s do this.” She had to be okay. She had to be safe. They wouldn’t tear her apart like they did the other physicists until they understood everything she knew about teleporting.
He had to believe that. He just had to.
* * * *
Darkness surrounded her, and it was as if time slowed down and pressed in, trying to break Promise’s ribs. Then, blissful light. The five of them landed, and Niall the Fae rolled toward the far wall, groaning. Apparently transporting four other people, especially the two massive Cyst soldiers, had been too much for the jackass who was the very embodi
ment of coccydynia.
The Cyst soldier holding her set her down in what looked like an abandoned elementary school classroom and backed away.
She panted wildly, staring at him. The guy was at least seven feet tall and almost as wide, with reddish purple eyes and that strange white strip of hair down his head and back. His skin was thick and white, while his lips were a shocking red. He stayed away from the light coming in the window and moved for the door. She couldn’t get the leverage to tackle him toward the window and would just break her neck trying.
Mercy had no such hesitation. The second she landed, she turned and kicked her Cyst soldier beneath the chin with a solid thump. The guy took a step back and swung out with a beefy fist.
Promise rushed to her friend’s aid, but Mercy had already ducked and then kicked the solider in the groin.
He bent over with a harsh growl.
Impressively fast, Mercy slid on her knees toward Niall and grabbed the silver gun from his back pocket. She was already firing at him when she stood, shooting him in the back of the neck with what looked like a laser. He jerked once. “Ha.” She threw the gun toward an old teacher’s desk crammed into the corner. “Now neither of us can teleport, asshole.”
Niall coughed several times but didn’t turn around.
“Enough,” said a male voice by the door. “General? Please continue making preparations for our exit once darkness falls.”
Promise knew that voice. She turned, her seizing lungs constricting the flow of oxygen to her extremities. “Dayne.”
The Kurjan leader half bowed. “It is an honor to see you again, Dr. Williams.” He strode into the room, looking tall and dangerous in his Kurjan soldier uniform with all the shiny medals on his breast. “And you, Mercy O’Malley. You’re my first fairy.”
“Fae,” Mercy said, her teeth gritted together. “And you’re my first asshole.”
Promise sent her a look. It made zero sense to antagonize the guy holding them captive. She glanced toward the window. The one advantage they had at the moment was the sunlight. If she could get Mercy out there—
“I wouldn’t,” Dayne said easily, leaning his long body against the nearest chalkboard. “I truly don’t wish to harm you, but my men have standing orders to shoot you if you leave the building before dark. They’re positioned all over the property, several in sniper posts well guarded from the sun. The area outside that window has five guns pointed right at it ready to shoot.” He glanced toward Niall, who still lay on the floor in the corner. “Hey, Fae King? You dead?”
It appeared that all immortals gained a somewhat macabre sense of humor through the centuries.
Niall groaned and rolled to sit up, his face pale and his body shaking. “I told you the Cyst soldiers were too heavy to transport at once.”
Mercy stepped toward him, menace in every line of her small body. “I am so going to kick your balls through your ears.”
“Mercy,” Promise admonished. They had to keep clear heads to gain their freedom, and first she needed to discover exactly what was happening and why they’d been taken. Her legs trembled, and she locked her knees. She focused on Dayne. “You said you wished us no harm, but didn’t you kill Dr. Rashad and Dr. Fissure?”
“Well.” He spread his large hands. “I didn’t kill them. My general did, and that’s because they didn’t give me what I wanted. You’re going to give it to me, aren’t you, Promise?”
The way he said it was mildly creepy and monumentally terrifying. Those people had been torn apart, piece by piece. What kind of a monster would do such a thing? As if reading her mind, the nearest Cyst soldier licked his lips.
Her stomach revolted. “What do you want?” she asked.
Dayne ticked his head toward the boards. “Your brilliant mind. Help my physicists discover how to reach Ulric and bring him home. I know you’re close to understanding the way teleportation works.”
Her breath heated, and she threw out her hands. This was crazy. They truly didn’t comprehend the mysteries of the universe. “I’m nowhere near close.” She shook her head. “The math you’re talking about, the advances in theoretical physics will take centuries. Maybe longer.”
He lifted his head and...sniffed? His eyes swirled purple through the red. “You’ve mated a demon.” His lips curved. “Make that a hybrid.” Then he laughed, long and hard.
“H-how did you know?” she asked.
“I can sense it,” he said. “So can any immortal. Your mate’s scent is all over you. What is it with you Enhanced females getting yourselves bitten and tied down for an eternity? It just makes this so easy.”
“How so?” Promise asked.
He sobered, his gaze piercing. “Their weakness is you. Always has been and always will be. What do you think is happening at demon headquarters right this second?”
Hopefully they were trying to bring Ivar back from the hell world. Had he returned? Was he safe? Promise cleared her throat. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” Dayne said. “They’re gearing up to find you, which will take some time since we teleported you out of there. No satellite, no cameras, no witnesses to see you go. They don’t know where you are.” He smiled, flashing sharp canines. “And on the off chance they find this place, we’ll be long gone. Never to be found again.”
“Why?” Promise asked, her voice shaking.
Dayne studied her as if truly surprised. “We’re at war. It never really ended, you see.”
“We took good care of your son,” she protested as Mercy edged even closer to Niall.
“That was kind of you,” Dayne said.
She looked him over and found several weapons—guns and knives. “How did you let him get so far away from you, anyway?” The child was only eight. It couldn’t have been by design, could it? Who would use their own child in such a manner?
Dayne didn’t answer. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder and then moved to the side.
Mark Brookes walked into the classroom, his gaze earnest. “I’m so sorry about this, but we needed you here. I’m struggling with some of your equations.”
Her hand shot out and slapped him right across the face. The sound echoed loudly in the room, bouncing off the chalkboards. She gasped, her shock mirrored in his expression. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
Mark stepped away from her, a red handprint on his right cheek. “You have turned into such a bitch. Now help me get the math right, we’ll give the information to these nice people, and then return to the university to enjoy the grant and work our way to a Nobel.”
Dayne straightened. “As far as I can see, she doesn’t need you, Brookes.”
Promise’s skin pricked. “That is incorrect. I do require his assistance.”
“That’s too bad.” Faster than a blur, Dayne broke Mark’s neck. The snap was deafening, and Mark fell to the ground with his eyes still open. “You have three hours to give me results that make me happy, or the redheaded Fae is next.” With another bow, he turned to leave the room. “Niall? Bring the body with you. I don’t want any distractions for our ladies.”
Chapter Forty
With the satellite images clear in his mind, Ivar landed on the roof of the abandoned school and punched out, taking the Kurjan soldier by surprise. The guy was hidden beneath a tarp, and Ivar dragged him into the sun, covering his mouth with a forearm to muffle the screams. The bastard jerked against him while his body went up in flames. His weapons dropped to the ground along with his charred bones. But the fire spread. Ivar patted out the fire on his arms, wincing at the pain. Grabbing the weapons, keeping low, he ran around the other side of the roof toward where the door should be. A Cyst soldier guarded it from beneath an awning.
Ivar was on him before he could move, shoving the knife up beneath the soldier’s chin all the way to the hilt. He followed the body down and wrenched, cutting several times until the
head rolled into the sun and ignited into flames.
The smell of burnt flesh and death choked him for a moment. His knees weakened from blood loss. There hadn’t been time to heal from his visit to hell.
He wiped off the knife and opened the door, heading inside, his only thought to find Promise. The demons had always enjoyed the sole power to teleport, and having their enemy employ the gift by working with the Fae had been unexpected. Even so, he was pissed at himself for not considering the possibility.
He limped down the stairs, coming across Adare and a red-haired Kurjan soldier trading furious punches. The Kurjan yanked a knife from a sheath at his belt, and Ivar threw his blade to Adare, who caught it without missing a move. The knives flashed, hard and fast, and blood sprayed.
Some arced across Ivar’s arm, and he winced. He’d forgotten how badly Kurjan blood could burn.
Seeing that Adare was gaining ground, Ivar stumbled down more steps, turning at a landing and barreling into a Cyst soldier at least five inches taller than Ivar’s own six-foot-six. They paused simultaneously. Then Ivar ducked his head and charged, sending them both tumbling end-over-end down the hard concrete stairs.
The agony in his legs and head nearly dropped him, but he fought hard. He rolled at the bottom and brought up the gun he’d taken, shooting several times into the Cyst soldier’s eye, straight to the brain. The soldier flopped back down, blood leaking from his ears and spurting from his eye, out cold. The injury wouldn’t kill him, but he’d be out of commission for a while.
There wasn’t time to decapitate him.
Ivar’s body tried to shut down, and he sucked deep, sending healing cells everywhere. Then he stumbled down the rest of the stairs and burst into a hallway, right into Logan, who’d come in the front door.
Benny fought with two Cyst soldiers at the far end, his punches almost gleeful. Dage Kayrs flew out of a classroom to join him, and the two were brutal grace in motion.
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