Quade had no intention of killing an ally. “Is there a way to follow a helicopter these days?” he whispered, following his brother to the back door.
“Yes, but I’ll fly low and stay off radar,” Ronan said. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
Quade tried to keep from challenging the assertion for Haven’s sake. He didn’t want her worried. “You have been practicing flying?” He had to ask.
“Sure,” Ronan said, sliding open the back door to the wide deck with its stairs leading down to the lake.
Wind, ice, and snow instantly pelted them, and Quade stepped in front of Haven to shield her. “Stay right behind me.” Nobody was going to believe they were out for a stroll in this storm. “Stick to the building and the shadows,” he whispered.
Ronan nodded, edging along the quiet building to the trees lining the lake, where he partially turned and maneuvered between trees, forging a path with his legs as he went.
Quade reached behind himself and grasped Haven’s hand, pressing it to his hip. “Hold on to me.”
She did so, tucking her hands in his jeans pockets. “This is crazy,” she whispered, barely audible above the wind.
The wind smashed snow against his face, and he ducked his head. The female was not wrong. Should a helicopter even fly in this kind of weather? Probably not, but it made sense to go now, so another helicopter could not follow. Still, he didn’t want to die in a damn crash.
They walked for about two miles before the landscape changed from trees to a wide meadow covered in hard black material. Much like the roads. He hadn’t learned the names for everything yet. Two large metal buildings stood silently on the other side of the black field.
“We want the second one.” Ronan crouched by a tree and pointed.
Quade could barely see though the storm. “All right.” His blood pumped faster, and energy flowed throughout his body. He was ready for a fight. Hopefully, the Realm soldiers would live up to his expectations.
Ronan looked over his shoulder and up. “This might make us enemies with the Realm. With family.”
“That is inevitable, I believe,” Quade murmured. “Either way, we’ve come too far to turn back. Let’s go the rest of the distance.” There was nothing for them here at Realm headquarters; if he was going to save Haven, he needed the resources of the Seven, which had to be kept confidential. “Haven? Stay behind me.” Lowering his head, he jogged through the falling snow, reaching the first building and listening for heartbeats.
Two faint ones came inside the other building. Made sense. Why protect the place from the outside when it was warm and dry inside?
Ronan made a hand signal and ran across the front of the first building.
Quade nodded and followed him, staying low, remaining silent. They reached a small door, and Ronan opened it, letting Quade leap inside first.
A guard turned and fired.
Quade ducked, rolled, and came up with an uppercut to the male’s jaw before taking him down to the ground. The fight was short-lived, and soon the young vampire was unconscious. Quade turned to see Ronan dispatching the other guard while Haven stood in the doorway, her eyes wide.
Six helicopters, shiny and long, filled the massive building.
Ronan pointed to the closest one. “Get in. I should be able to open the hangar door from inside.”
Quade motioned for Haven. “Was that too easy?” He’d expected a much more exhilarating fight.
“Yes. These guys are definitely newbies and young.” Ronan shrugged. “The king probably thinks that nobody is dumb enough to try and fly in this storm.”
Quade stumbled and then righted himself. Apparently, he was dumb enough.
* * * *
Haven clutched the arm strap as the machine rose into the air, swinging wildly. Her stomach rolled over. This was crazy. Was anybody immortal enough to survive a helicopter crash? From the pallor of Quade’s face across from her, he was wondering the same thing.
Ronan sat up front, whistling, punching different lights. The copter swung a hard left and tilted. “Oops.” He righted the craft.
Snow piled up on the front window, and ice crusted the bottom of it.
The air was freezing, and when she breathed, puffs of steam filtered around her head. “There has to be heat,” she whispered.
“There’s heat,” Ronan called back. “I just don’t know what button to push.” He pushed a green one, and the nose of the craft dove swiftly down.
Haven yelped and held on tighter.
“My bad.” Ronan righted the craft, but it still swung dizzily in the storm.
Haven tried to breathe through the panic, but she went light-headed anyway. “I think I hate your brother.”
“Me too,” Quade grunted, white knuckling the padded bench on either side of his hips. The helicopter rocked and his head knocked back against the side of the craft. He winced and swore. Loudly.
“Just hold on,” Ronan snapped. “I’ve got this.”
They were so going to die. Or at least crash. Haven bit her lip, tasting blood. “If I’m knocked unconscious, I might not be able to stop from going other places.” If she had mated Quade, would he have been able to go with her? They had plenty of theories but no proof. “We need information. Now.”
“That’s why we’re on this flying death trap.” He said the words loudly enough that Ronan surely heard.
She tried to concentrate on anything but the fact that the storm was more powerful than the helicopter. “I don’t know much about vampires and fighting and all of that, but it seemed like this was too easy.”
Quade’s eyes had darkened to a deep aqua with more green than blue. “Agreed. I just said the same thing to Ronan.”
Ronan glanced over his shoulder. “You think the king let us take this puppy?” The copter pitched, and he quickly looked back at the night outside, fighting with the wheel.
Haven gulped down panic. “Maybe. What do you think?”
Quade leaned forward and turned toward his brother, grabbing a hanging strap while he did so. “Can this machine be traced? Like with cameras?”
Man, he was learning about modern society so quickly. Haven tried not to move too much.
Ronan nodded. “Sure. They definitely want to know where Seven headquarters is located. That’s why we’re not going there right now.” He yanked the wheel to the side and they spun.
Haven’s stomach lurched. The copter banked sharply, and she set her head back, closing her eyes. It was okay. They were okay. This wasn’t crazy. Oh, this was fucking crazy. “Where are we going?” she yelled.
“Rendezvous with Adare,” Ronan said. “We’ll leave this at a halfway point and go with him.”
Not a bad plan. “Who’s Adare?” Haven asked, not that it mattered. She’d do almost anything to be on the ground.
The copter dropped several yards suddenly, and Quade hit his head on the ceiling, landing back on the seat with a sharp growl.
Haven kept her hold on the strap, trying not to scream.
“Adare is a member of the Seven,” Quade said. “From the beginning. A brother of mine.”
The helicopter pitched violently. “That’s it,” Quade bellowed. “Put this fucker down. Right now. Out of the storm.”
Haven nodded wildly. “Agreed. It’s two against one. Put this down on the nearest street or meadow or farm.” She didn’t care at this point.
A flash of light came from the ground below. Ronan jerked the wheel, but it was too late. A missile hit the back of the craft, spraying fire in every direction.
Quade bellowed and leaped for Haven, throwing her up front and following quickly, settling them both in the copilot’s seat and securing a chest belt over the two of them. He wrapped his arms around her middle, holding her tight, his feet braced against the floor.
“Shit.” Ronan fought with the wheel. Warning alarms blar
ed from every direction, and all of the lights flickered. The craft swung around and around, while freezing air and wind swept from the gaping hole in the back.
Haven sucked in air, her body trembling. The copter spun crazily. She grabbed onto Quade’s arms and tried to brace herself for impact.
“Don’t we need the rest of this thing?” Quade yelled.
“Yep.” Ronan fought hard, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. “Hold on. We’re going down.”
The engine droned, complaining through the storm. They hit branches first. Snow scattered and the front windshield cracked. Another series of hits from branches, and the glass shattered.
Haven held tight and shut her eyes, trying to protect her face. Quade’s arms lifted, and he covered her as much as possible while holding her in place. His head smashed against the metal side so loudly the thunk sounded over the alarms and whipping wind.
The helicopter pitched, nose down, held aloft by the branches of tall trees. Way too tall trees. For the briefest of seconds, the entire world seemed to hold its breath. Oh, they were going to die. Haven screamed.
“Damn it.” Quade unbuckled the belt quickly and grabbed her arms. “Hold on tight, little Fae.”
She yelped and fought him, but he was too strong. He flung her out of the craft and straight at the nearest tree. She grabbed a snowy branch and fell, scrambling for the next one. Her hands found purchase and then her feet. She clung, breathing wildly, pants of air whooshing out of her.
The branches holding the helicopter cracked and then gave. Snow billowed up, and she couldn’t see what happened. Had the brothers jumped out in time? The copter pummeled to the ground and hit so hard that snow flew up the several stories to where she clung desperately to the branches. The metal crumpled with a resounding crunch.
“Quade!” she screamed. Holding tight, she swung herself to a lower branch, scrambling down as fast as she could. Many branches had been sheared off by the falling helicopter, so she had to jump several times. Finally, she reached the ground, her legs sinking into the snow up to her thighs.
A noise to her right had her partially turning to see a cougar quickly morphing into a full-blown male shifter.
“Hello, Fairy,” Pierce said, right before he hit her temple with a jagged rock.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Quade came to flat on his face in the ice. He groaned and turned over to see snow falling hard. An answering groan came from his right, and he partially turned to find Ronan sitting against a tree with the helicopter on fire behind him. They’d both leapt through the windshield at the last second, clearing the helicopter before it hit the earth nose first. “Haven,” he called.
Nothing. Damn it.
He took a quick inventory, finding eight broken bones, a skull fracture, and some liver damage. Sending healing cells to the broken bones in his leg, he waited until a crack sounded before trying to stand. The pain focused him, but he swayed while slugging through the thick snow to his brother. “You okay?”
“No.” Ronan took the offered hand and stood. A thick gash across his cheek revealed his bone and teeth. It slowly started to stitch itself together.
Quade looked up in the trees. Where was Haven? “How long do you think we were out?”
Ronan glanced at the burning metal. “Not long. The fire won’t last. I’d say fifteen minutes, tops.”
A scent wafted through the snow, and Quade lifted his nose, trying to identify it. What was it? He moved around the tree and caught a full dose. Shifter. “Damn it.” Sending healing cells to his liver and head, he pushed through the thick snow to where he thought he’d tossed her and looked up. This close, her scent lingered as well. Oranges and Haven…and blood. The metallic smell nearly dropped him to his knees.
Ronan staggered up next to him, leaving a red trail of blood in the snow. “I smell cougar. You don’t think that asshole you told me about shot us out of the sky, do you?”
Quade looked frantically around, trying to catch another scent, but smoke and the storm made it impossible. “Where are we?”
“Still in Idaho, I think,” Ronan muttered, leaning against a tree. “We didn’t get very far in this damn storm.” Pain and healing energy, the angry kind, radiated from him.
Quade had to find Haven. Rage shot energy through his body, through his blood, and he let it loose, needing the power. The healing cells had already taken care of his liver and head, so he sent them to other injuries, but they slowed, turning sluggish. He needed protein and blood, but so did Ronan. Sucking in a deep breath, he ignored the storm and concentrated, turning slightly to the right. “They went this way. Can you keep up?”
“Of course.” His brother pushed off the tree. “We’ll get her back. Shifters are fast, but so long as we keep his scent, we’ll catch up.” The wound on his face started to mend, but only part of the skin stitched together. “Let’s go.” He shoved his way between two trees.
A noise caught Quade’s attention. A buzz of some sort. He partially turned to see lights cutting through the trees in several different places, bobbing up and down. “What is that?”
Ronan turned. “Who is that?”
A machine roared into range, black and red, on some sort of skis.
“Snowmobiles,” Ronan explained, panting out air. “The Realm boys must’ve tracked us.”
The machines maneuvered expertly between the trees, their high-pitched buzz increasing in strength as they drew nearer. He peered through the snow, seeing white. Strips of white braided down the side. “Shit. It’s the Cyst.” Shoving Ronan, he ducked his head. “Run.”
Ronan tucked and started running full out, scattering snow as he went. Quade followed, ducking and dodging between trees, moving in a zigzag pattern. They instinctively went deeper into the forest where the trees were thicker. Soon the sounds of the snowmobiles slowed and then ebbed.
Finally silence.
Quade kept running, his ribs aching, his still damaged arm pounding in pain. The Cyst were on foot now. He couldn’t hear them, but he could sense them. How had the Cyst found them? His mind filled with Haven. Where was she? Was she okay? Rage was white-hot inside him, and he needed it. The idea of her in danger sped up his feet, and he ignored the pain. There was no pain. There was only Haven.
His mate.
He almost barreled over a snowy cliff, but Ronan grabbed him and yanked him back.
Shit.
He turned and stiffened as three Cyst prowled out from the trees. In the storm, with their white hair and too pale faces, they blended in with the snow. Even their uniforms, this time, were white. They moved with strength and grace, obviously well trained.
“Where’s Xeno?” Ronan sneered, moving to stand alongside Quade.
“You’ll see him soon,” the soldier to the far right said, his eyes glinting through the swirling snow.
Okay. Guy to right was the leader. He’d need to be taken out first.
The same soldier looked around, lifted his head, and smelled the air. He frowned. “Where is the female?”
“What female?” Quade asked, bracing his feet. He could barely scent Haven, and she was his mate. The storm was finally assisting him. But she’d been taken by that bastard Pierce, and the longer Quade waited, the fainter her scent would become. He did not have time for this.
The far left soldier frowned, his white eyebrows slashing. “Do you smell…shifter?”
Quade cut Ronan a look. There was no way these guys were working with a shifter, so now he had two enemies on his ass? “Why did you shoot us down?”
The leader shrugged. “We knew you were at headquarters and would have to leave the Realm, so we just waited.”
Quade stepped forward, his chest heating. They could’ve accidentally decapitated his mate in that wreck. “You just waited and shot down the first helicopter you saw?”
The leader grinned. “Someti
mes you have to roll the dice.”
What the hell did that mean? Quade’s ribs finally cracked back into place. “If you’d shot down the King of the Realm, war would ensue again.” That much he knew.
“The King of the Realm wouldn’t be flying out in this storm,” the leader countered.
That was a good point. So, was Pierce monitoring the Realm or the Cyst? How the hell had he gotten to Haven so quickly?
The middle guy finally spoke, stepping forward. “The Seven is weak when fractured, and we knew you would have to regroup soon. Plus, you’re still a big old secret to most species, right? I bet you didn’t even tell the king about all of your mission.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Quade bunched his legs. “Now.” He leaped forward just as Ronan did the same, tackling the soldiers into the snow.
* * * *
Haven jerked awake, surrounded by something warm and soft. She blinked, sitting up on a bed, pushing a flannel blanket down to her waist. “What the holy hell?”
Pierce stoked a fire on the opposite wall of a square wooden cabin, then stood up and stretched his back. “The storm got too bad for me to run in human form, and I can’t carry you in cougar form, so we’re sitting it out for a short while. I need a break.” He frowned. “You’re heavier than you look.”
Her head jerked and she sat straighter. “I most certainly am not.”
“Sorry.” He held up both hands in surrender.
The room spun crazily around her. “Dude. You have got to stop hitting me in the head.” She pressed a hand to her pounding temple and tried to ease the pain. There was a lump but no blood. Healing cells were already fixing the problem. She was getting pretty good at this.
He shrugged, his chest bare, his legs in dark sweats. “Again, sorry. But I have to make you see that we’re meant to be together. I’ve been pursuing you for years.”
She looked around the small room. Bed against the wall, kitchenette with no fridge in far corner, and two chairs between the bed and the fireplace. “Where are we?”
“Cabin in Idaho. I’ve kept it close to Realm headquarters and figured they’d take you to the hospital there after the fire. I was trying to figure out how to infiltrate the facility. When there was a helicopter crash, I investigated. Don’t you see? It’s fate I found you tonight.” He reached for a photo album from a table in front of the sofa and hurried toward her, holding it out. “I don’t have many pictures of you, but I keep several of these in different locations.”
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