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Consumed

Page 15

by Rebecca Zanetti


  “What do the demons want with her?” Dage growled.

  Terrent shrugged. “We don’t know. Yet. But she’s safer with her own people considering the entire world knows she’s here with you.”

  Dage stiffened, tapping his ear communicator. “When?” He shot to his feet, gaze encompassing them both. “I’ve had an emergency and will be right back.” Two steps and he yanked open the door. “There are guards outside the room.” The door shut behind him.

  Terrent steepled his fingers. “Guards, huh? Apparently the king doesn’t trust me to refrain from kidnapping you.”

  “I can take care of myself.” A lame line, but the only thing that sprang to her panicking mind. The king had left her alone with a wolf. With the wolf. Little pins pricked the skin on her arms. Her heart began to ache. She swallowed, forcing panic down. No way would she let an anxiety attack take her down in front of Terrent. “I don’t know any demons.” This didn’t make sense.

  “The demons sure know you.” Terrent’s voice stayed level, while his eyes darkened in sympathy. “I’m seeking more information, but all I have right now is that they want you dead. Five million dollars’ worth of dead.”

  She blinked away haze. Why in the world would demons want her dead? Fear had her digging in. “I’m staying here.”

  “Everyone knows you’re here. I can keep you safe—nobody knows our secure locations, even the king is in the dark. Besides, Maggie, you’ve been living with cats. Don’t you want to be among your own people, feel at home, maybe remember what it’s like to be a wolf?” He rubbed his jaw. “Have you ever run with another wolf? With a pack?”

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. Her breathing evened out. “If I have, I certainly don’t remember.”

  “Then you should give it a try.” Warm, even gentle, his tone wrapped around her.

  The guy should bottle the charm and sell it. “You kill werewolves.” She said the words to remind herself as much as him.

  “Yes.” No apology, no hint of doubt. “I kill werewolves. Every chance I get.”

  She blinked. “You’d kill me if I turned into a werewolf.” Every month of every year, she feared the second the moon rose high, she’d finally lose to the virus and turn into a hairy beast with no conscience.

  “In a heartbeat.”

  That should scare the hell out of her. Yet something in his conviction provided an odd reassurance she quickly squashed. “I may have no memories of my past, but I know my rights. I don’t have to go anywhere.”

  He cocked his head to the side. A smile flirted with his masculine mouth. “What rights?”

  For a second, she went blank. “You know, rights.” Everyone had them.

  “We’re not humans, little wolf,” he drawled.

  A southern drawl and masculine lips made for a dangerous and intriguing combination. She needed to get a grip. “I’m aware of that, big bad wolf.”

  Devastating was the only term to describe his sudden full-on smile. “For ten years, we’ve allowed you to stay where you’re comfortable, where the Realm scientists can study the virus and hopefully cure you. Unless there’s some sort of breakthrough soon, the patience of the Bane’s Council is at an end.”

  “I’ve heard you’re the Bane’s Council.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I lead the council. You’re a wolf, darlin’. As such, you’re subject to our laws. Perhaps we’ve been remiss in explaining that fact to you—especially since you’re now in more danger than we’d expected.”

  “If I belong to an outside clan, I don’t follow your laws.” She’d studied the hierarchy of the canine world during the last decade ... just in case.

  “Everyone follows our laws.”

  This was getting nowhere. A roaring began to fill her ears. She blinked several times to keep calm. “I’m staying here.” Though the temptation to go with him, to meet other wolves, had doubt clouding her brain.

  “I hope you’ll give me the chance to change your mind.” His tone stayed level, but an undercurrent hinted she’d be changing her mind one way or another. “I’m here until the full moon.”

  At his timeline, the breath rushed out of her throat. “Oh God. You’re here to kill Jordan.” That was the other reason Terrent had arrived personally. She would not let that happen. No matter what.

  Terrent’s face hardened to stone. “My business is none of your concern.”

  “Bullshit.” She leaped to her feet. Jordan had saved her from the Kurjans and offered her a home. Protection. Family. “You’ll have to go through me.”

  Faster than sound, Terrent reached across the table, manacling his hands around her arms. Lifting her over the table and pivoting, he had her against the wall before she could blink. “I don’t think that will be much of a problem.”

  The air swooshed out of her lungs. Shock kept her still. The wolf easily held her off the ground and pressed against the wall. Up close, he was bigger than she’d thought. Probably as big as Dage, and even broader across the chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  He leaned in close, the scent of wild oak swimming around him. “I’m neither a cat nor a vamp, sugar. You challenge me, and you won’t like what you get.”

  His gaze lacked anger or other hint of emotion. Pure fact, even and reasonable, echoed in his tone. As if they were discussing the weather and he hadn’t put his hands on her. Physically and way too easily overpowering her.

  Fury zinged through her so fast her ears burned. Instinct had her going limp in surrender.

  Satisfaction lit his gaze. His hold relaxed.

  With the slightest twist of her hips, she shot her leg up, nailing him right in the balls. Shock covered his face, his mouth opening silently. He released her, leaning over and dropping to one knee. He dented the rock floor.

  Panic threatened to blind her. She shoved both hands into his massive shoulders, sending him into the edge of the table. “I guess I’m more of a problem than you thought.” Quick steps had her in the hallway. Waiting until she was out of sight of the two guards, she launched into a run. A very fast run so she could get to safety and lock the door. Her breath began to pant out. She might be feisty, but no way was she stupid.

  Terrent Vilks would be coming for her.

  Chapter 16

  Katie sat on the cold wooden bench, her gaze on the too silent sea. Still and gray, the ocean seemed to hold its breath. The stone entrance to the underground headquarters stood behind her. Pine trees and dark forest spread out on either side and she tuned in to listen. No images, no hint of predators arrived on the soft breeze. The werewolves hid far away, probably waiting for the full moon.

  She shivered, clutching her parka closer around her.

  A woman’s irritated muttering echoed behind her. Light footsteps sounded as Cara made her way into the small courtyard to slide onto the bench. “Hi.”

  “Why are you muttering?” Katie kept her gaze on the sea.

  “Emma kicked me out of the lab. Something about chemicals I shouldn’t be exposed to since I have the virus.” Cara stomped a boot on the damp grass.

  “How did you get outside?”

  Cara tucked her hair into her jacket. “Talen did a full sweep and there’s no one near. Which is how I assume you got outside.”

  “There are at least seven snipers in the trees on either side of us.” She sensed them and could probably guess their locations. “If Brent has healed enough to attack, it won’t be until the full moon so he’s at his strongest.” But truly, she didn’t care. A sigh escaped her. She and Cara had become close friends while training together to fight the Kurjans when they’d both stayed at Jordan’s ranch a decade in the past. Right now, Katie needed a friend. “I slept with Jordan.”

  Cara coughed. “Wow. Did he, I mean, did you—”

  “No. We didn’t mate.”

  “Oh.” Cara tucked her hands in her thick coat. “I’m an empath, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “What’s wrong, then?” Cara gre
w stiller. “Oh God. It wasn’t ... bad ... was it?”

  Katie snorted. “No, it wasn’t bad. Sex with Jordan was hot, fun, and I had three orgasms. Four if you count this morning before he left to train.” She kicked a pebble, watching it roll over the cliff. “He was very gentle.”

  Cara gasped. “Oh no. Not gentle.” Sympathy coated her words. “In perfect control, determined to keep you safe?”

  Katie turned to face her friend. “Yeah.”

  “Oh honey.” Cara absently rubbed a permanent bite in the side of her neck. “Talen was like that after I had Garrett, and we weren’t sure if I could survive having the virus in my blood without a vampire baby inside me to counteract it.”

  “What did you do?”

  Cara’s smile held definite menace. “I challenged him. All those guys are pure Alpha—you challenge and they can’t help but respond.” She bit her lip. “He has even tried to mate me a couple of times.”

  Yeah, Katie had discussed the issue with Emma in wondering if mating would cure her. But maybe Cara’s attempts were secret. “Really?”

  “Yes. The brand is always on his palm now, and sometimes, during really ... ah ... energetic sex, the mark transfers to me again.” Cara blushed, and then sobered. “But the marking doesn’t stay. Never lasts. The virus is too strong.”

  “Fucking virus.”

  “Amen, sister.”

  Katie stomped wet grass off her shoes. “Well, I guess I’ll need to challenge the big lion leader.”

  Cara chuckled. “Up to you. But make sure you want what you’ll get. You let a guy like Jordan claim you, and there’s no going back.”

  “I know.” Katie sighed, turning toward the dismal ocean.

  “What else is wrong?”

  Damn empath. Katie ground her heels in the grass. “For so long, all I wanted was Jordan. I don’t know if it’s been fighting werewolves for a decade, or if I’ve grown up, but ...”

  “Ah. That when you got the guy it’d be happily ever after, holding hands, dancing through the tulips?”

  Katie chuckled “Yeah. You know. Be the first lady of the feline nation ... throw parties, support my husband.”

  “Being in the background isn’t your thing, huh?”

  “Jordan is awesome. He’s enough to make anybody happy.” Katie bit her lip.

  “There’s nothing wrong with wanting more. With wanting to make your own mark ... and have the man of your dreams.” Cara nudged her with a shoulder. “Fight for what you want, Katie. It’s all you can do.”

  Now Jordan might turn into a hairy beast she’d have to kill. If they could somehow save him, she still didn’t want to be in the background. She had a job to do.

  One battle at a time. Even if they only had two nights together, Katie wanted all of him. “I want to mate him.”

  “Then do it.”

  Boots stomped on the ground behind them. They turned around to see Janie zip up her coat. “Mom? Stupid Garrett got all mad and threw Charlie across the room. He’s all bloody now from fangs.”

  Cara jumped to her feet. “Who’s bloody?”

  Janie rolled her eyes. “Garrett cut his mouth with his new fangs. Charlie is fine but will probably never kiss me again.”

  Cara shook her head, clearly trying to make sense of the conversation. “You kissed Charlie?”

  “Yeah. And Garrett’s fangs came in. Dork.”

  Cara hustled toward the door. “Does your father know you kissed a panther?”

  Janie snorted. “Considering Charlie is still alive ... no.”

  Cara chortled, a small grin playing on her face. “We may need a tranquilizer gun. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Funny.” Janie grinned.

  Katie wasn’t so sure Cara had been joking. A dart gun seemed like a wise move.

  Cara sobered. “I’m checking on your brother, and then we’re having a talk.” Muttering to herself, she disappeared from view.

  Janie huffed out a breath, gliding forward to sit on the bench. “Great. Another sex talk.”

  Katie laughed, sliding an arm around the girl. “So, your first kiss, huh?”

  Janie blushed. “Yeah. The kiss was nice ... but I kept thinking of Zane.”

  “Been there, done that, girlfriend.” If Katie could spare Janie from the Zane-crush, she’d do so in a heartbeat. “Don’t let a guy you may never see again ruin your happiness right now.”

  “I’m psychic. I don’t know how, I don’t know when, but I will see him someday.”

  The words sent a chill down Katie’s spine. “Things very rarely work out the way you think they will, sweetheart. Psychic or not. You know the future changes daily.”

  “Yep.” Janie snuggled closer. “So, you and Jordan, huh?”

  Katie stiffened. What? Could the girl smell Jordan on her? Wait a minute. Janie wasn’t a shifter, she couldn’t—

  “Man, stop thinking so hard. You’re hurting my head.” Janie giggled. “Sometimes I just know stuff, remember? I mean, I don’t get images or pictures in my head, so don’t worry about that.”

  Katie gave a strangled cough.

  Janie kicked out her feet. “Though now I’ve seen a naked shifter, I kinda wonder if they all look so good.”

  “What?” Katie froze. “I mean ... what?”

  Janie rubbed her nose. “Charlie shifted when Garrett attacked him. Shredded his clothes. I gotta say, great body ... but penises are weird.”

  Katie’s left eye began to spasm. “Uh-huh.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  Only if it had nothing to do with penises. “Sure.”

  “What’s it like when the guy you really like ... actually likes you back?”

  Katie bit back the sarcastic jibe about Jordan. Janie had so much longing in her young voice, Katie had to be truthful. “Well, at first you don’t believe it because it’s too good to be true. Then you don’t want to believe it because it must be a trick. Then you do believe it, but it turns out to be different than you’d always thought.”

  Janie sighed, turning to the ocean. “Why is life so confusing?”

  “Why indeed.” With a matching sigh, Katie followed her gaze, but the ocean provided no answers.

  Jordan kicked the punching bag, sending it flying across the wide gym. Irritation had him snarling. Even with funds so low from the war, Dage should create a better fucking workout area.

  He’d slept with Katie. Pivoting, he slammed a fist into a second bag. Told her he loved her. Jesus. The fact that she didn’t say the words back wasn’t lost on him. Another kick, and the second bag tore in two.

  “Stop breaking things.” Conn strode into the room, hands in his faded jeans.

  “Facilities suck.” Jordan grabbed a towel off the thick mat to wipe his forehead.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Jesus, no. “Why don’t you go get your mate so you have something to do?”

  “My mate has work to do in Ireland. I have work to do here.” Conn’s voice stayed even.

  Guilt swamped Jordan. His shoulders slumped. Conn remained behind so he could either save him or kill him. “I’m sorry.”

  Conn shrugged and leaned back against the wall, keeping his flak boots off the mats. “Right now you’re the least of my worries. Any chance the shifter headquarters in Western Virginia needs a visit from Talen?”

  “We want to get rid of Talen?”

  “A shifter kissed Janie.”

  Jordan jerked his head. “She’s too young to kiss.”

  Irritation swirled in Conn’s eyes. “She’ll be sixteen in a week. When did I become the voice of reason around here?” He kicked a medicine ball. The heavy leather crashed against the far wall and returned, zinging by Jordan’s head.

  Jordan cracked a smile. “Reason suits you. Tell me the guy wasn’t a wolf shifter.”

  “Nope. Feline. Panther.”

  “Well, that’s okay then.” Jordan eyed his friend. His best friend. Tension lines cut into Conn’s face, his shoulders seemed stiff
. The guy could use a brawl. Jordan opened his mouth to offer when Dage’s voice came over the speaker in the far wall.

  “Conn, Jordan, get to control room one. Now.”

  They didn’t pause. Loping into a jog, Jordan followed Conn through corridors and down three flights of stairs, deeper in the earth. If the king wanted to meet in his private control room, something was very, very wrong.

  They arrived in unison with Kane, Talen, and Max, who had been Dage’s primary bodyguard until taking over Janie’s protection. The door shut, locks sliding soundly into place.

  Tension and power filled the small room. A large table sat abandoned to the side, but nobody moved toward the various chairs. They stood by the control panel near the entrance. Jordan tucked his hands in his sweats, resting against the side wall. Silence pounded around them.

  Dage punched in keys on the panel and two men took shape on a large wall screen.

  “Jesus,” Conn breathed.

  Caleb Donovan, a vampire prophet, and Kellach Dunne, a witch enforcer, barely held each other up, leaning against a black stone wall.

  Blood cascaded from Caleb’s eyes and nose. It flowed out his ears to mat in his long brown hair. He opened his mouth to speak. Blood poured out. He staggered, and Kell shoved them both against the wall.

  Kell’s head swiveled. The flesh on his face flayed open from inside, veins and shards of bone sticking out through the flowing blood. His black eyes were a mottled red.

  Caleb spit out blood. “Demons attacked. We lost—” He bent over, a rattling cough shaking his huge chest. Kell held on to him, then helped him to straighten.

  Nausea rolled in Jordan’s gut. The demons fought with mind control—misfiring neurons in the brain until the victim bled out or went stark raving mad. They could also force horrible images inside until the person couldn’t distinguish between reality and illusion. It was a miracle the two men were still functioning.

  Caleb coughed blood. “Jase.”

  Talen and Conn stepped forward as one, concern for their youngest brother obvious. “Where is he?”

  “Demons.” Caleb fell to the ground.

  Kellach swayed, blood pouring from his hairline and down his face. “I’m sorry.” Then he dropped out of range.

 

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