Claimed

Chapter 27

Conn crossed his arms, leaning against the smooth rock wall of the communications room, Jordan at his side. While the king liked being underground, Conn hated it. He figured the enemy wouldn’t come so far under the earth’s surface, and he was more of a face-to-face kind of guy. The need to hit something made his fists clench against his ribs.

Before them, Jase stood in front of three cameras with a dark tarp behind him as camouflage, shielding the rocks. Their headquarters in the Colorado mountains needed to remain a secret—needed to be a haven.

Jase cleared his throat, continuing with his first press conference, for lack of a better term. “So the Realm dealt with the threat. The royal family is under lockdown for the time being.”

Off camera, Chalton manned a console that looked like it belonged at NASA Space Center. He punched in a button and a face swam into focus on yet another screen. Vivienne Northcutt, head of council of the Coven Nine.

Deep black eyes set in a lined face still lovely sparked. “Where is the king?”

“The king is attending to business.” Dage and Talen had locked themselves in a war room to plot strategy for the day. A wry grin lifted Jase’s upper lip. “You’re stuck with me from now on.”

Conn fought his own grin. Jase had dressed in combat gear for his debut—nothing fancy, nothing formal. A silent message that they were at war. Nicely done.

The witch cleared her throat. “Rumors abound about the king ... well, losing his mind.”

Jase chuckled, all charm. “Vivienne. You know better than to listen to rumors.” He moved closer to his camera. “The Kurjans attacked. The king is a soldier first and foremost, the ultimate soldier.” The smile fled Jase’s face, and his eyes glowed with determination. “He took care of the threat—as is his job.”

Jordan ducked his head. “Your boy knows what he’s doing. He just let every leader listening know to get on board or face the king’s wrath.”

Conn gave a short nod.

A male face came into view on camera. Deland, head of a shifting clan in Russia. “What about this virus we’ve been hearing about? Does the infection really turn shifters into werewolves?”

Jase shook his head. “Not at this point, though I’m sure the Kurjans are working on their scientific research as much as we are. I can assure you, our best people are on this.”

“I see. And what about the rumors regarding humans researching vampire DNA? Human scientists being allowed to know about any of our species?” Deland asked.

“Absolutely not true.” Jase took another step closer to the camera. “The king has not allowed one single human to know about us or to have access to our DNA. Those rumors are unfounded and simply untrue.”

Conn inhaled through his nose, his mind calculating the issue. Someone was certainly spreading rumors, attempting to take down the king. He needed to discover who it was and take care of them. Permanently.

Conn’s cell phone buzzed at his waist, and upon seeing the number he excused himself and dodged into the hallway. Ducking into a smaller office, he connected the phone to a computer, punching in buttons. He smiled. “Hi.”

Moira lifted an eyebrow, her pretty face filling the screen. “What the hell is going on, Connlan?”

“What?” Dark circles marred her creamy complexion and pinched the skin around her emerald eyes. Irritation swept him. She shouldn’t be stressed.

Her jaw clenched. “Is the king’s mate all right? We were on a call, she said something about tulips and then ... nothing.” Moira tossed an errant curl out of her eyes. “I’m hearing reports of the king going crazy, and now Jase is giving some asinine press conference to leaders of the Realm.”

“Take a deep breath, Moira.” The need to protect her had Conn dropping into a chair to keep from storming to Ireland. “Emma and Cara are both fine. Their building exploded but they reached safety first.” He waited until relief filled Moira’s eyes and she sat, leaning her face on her hands before continuing. “The king still has his mind. We were attacked and he kicked some ass. That’s it.” That wasn’t it. Not even close.

Moira wasn’t stupid. “The king thought his mate was dead?”

“Yes.”

She leaned forward, fine lines wrinkling her normally smooth forehead. “Bugger. Is he all right now?”

Warmth flushed through Conn. His mate had a pure heart. “He will be.” Probably. That type of anger took awhile to dissipate. “Dage will channel everything he’s going through into beating the Kurjans.”

Moira nodded, a small sigh escaping her. “Did the spell work? Is Cara okay? I mean, is the babe all right?”

“We think so. The contractions stopped and Cara said she feels better, though Emma is running more tests right now.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sure they would’ve called, but we’re under lockdown. Only a couple of us can send or receive calls.”

“Good. I’m glad the babe is okay.” Moira glanced down. “Tell Emma the spell needs more of a tweaking before she uses it again—especially with the infected shifters.” She sighed. “I’m just not sure the spell is ready, you know? I’m not sure how it even worked on Cara.”

Conn nodded. “Yes. Kane said the liquid antidote needs a couple more tests before Maggie can take it, although the woman is chomping at the bit.”

“I would be, too.” Moira’s slender shoulders pressed inward.

“What kind of trouble are you in for sharing a spell like that, Moira?” He had plenty of enemies at the moment but would take on the Coven Nine if necessary. Damn witches thought everything had to be a secret.

“None at the moment. I mean, the Coven Nine doesn’t know, and I’m trying to keep it that way.” She wiped a hand across her eyes. “So, ah, thanks for answering my call.”

He surveyed the room behind her. “Why are you at your father’s castle?”

She shrugged, still avoiding his gaze. “Where else would I be?”

Really? She wanted to play that game? “At your pretty little cottage on the edge of town.”

Surprise crossed her features. “How did you—”

“I’m aware of your location at all times, mate.” He let the words sink in, disappointment surprising him when she didn’t rise to the bait. He studied her for a moment. “What’s going on, dailtín?”

Her sad smile twisted his heart. “I’m not a brat.”

“Yes you are.” He grinned. “One who looks like the world is falling onto her shoulders. What’s up?” His were more than strong enough to shield her if necessary.

She leaned back, a rare moment of vulnerability lowering those shields she’d perfected for so long. “Magic. Someone used it to harm. To speed up the virus. Probably with the actual virus as well.” Her pain slid along his own skin to bite.

Ah. Magic had made her and enriched her blood. His mate would take this attack personally. “We’ll find them, Moira. I promise.” Determination hardened his jaw. “You understand this puts you in even more danger, right?” Besides being a mate, her power as a witch painted a bull’s-eye on her smooth forehead.

He expected fire to light her eyes. Her chin to rise. A declaration that she could handle anything. What he got was a small nod and a whispered, “I know.”

Every protective instinct he owned bellowed through his formidable body. “I’ll come and get you.”

Her hesitation at refusing him solidified his intention as nothing else could have. “No. I have things to do, Connlan.” Her surprisingly dark eyelashes fluttered against her pale skin.

He frowned. “You’re worried about your chances to join the Nine? He’d heard the process could be dangerous, but she was the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. Outsiders weren’t privy to the rules of the Coven Nine, and he suddenly wished he’d tried harder to understand her world, rules be damned.

Fragile shoulders straightened before her gaze lifted. “There isn’t a simple application and job interview, Conn. More is involved then just having been trained properly.” She glanced away, hiding her eyes from him.

“What else?” He’d bet everything in his accounts there was something else. Something that turned his firebrand of a mate into someone who refused to meet his eyes.

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just a lot going on at once.”

He inhaled, searching for the right words. “I’m a soldier, Moira.”

Curls bobbed when she tilted her head to the side. “So I’ve heard.” Amusement sparkled her eyes into the clearest of lake bottoms.

Ah good. At least she’d quit avoiding his gaze. His chuckle released some of his tension. “If I were Dage I’d cajole you with kindness and reason; if I were Kane I’d use pure logic. But I’m not.”

“Meaning?” Interest and something else lit her eyes. Desire? Need?

“Meaning, I’m coming to get you.” The vow echoed through the room, filled with truth. Pure truth had its own ring.

There was that fire he loved to see in her eyes. Curls rioted when she tossed her head. “The hell you are. If you think a one night stand will dictate my life, you’re bloody crazed.”

Man, he loved her Gaelic accent. When he’d taken her, she’d cried out in Gaelic pleasure, a soft lilt to the words he still heard in his sleep. He was done waking alone. The marking on his hand began to burn. “Here’s your kind reason. I need to be inside you so badly sometimes I think I’ll go mad.”

She swallowed hard, a sweet blush rising over those high cheekbones.

Pleasure filled him. “Here’s your logic. Fate has given us a push, and a push only. I knew the second I tasted you that you were mine. Fate or not. Marking or not. We need to give this an honest shot, which is something we can’t do living across the world from each other.”

Her nostrils flared and her blush deepened. Those devastating eyes darkened to something that hardened his cock.

He stood, leaning down toward the webcam, all purpose. All danger. “That’s all the reason or logic you’re getting. From now on, it’s the soldier. This is your one chance to negotiate terms for peace. For terms you can live with.”

She stood, mimicking his stance and leaning forward. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll take you, Moira.” Regret lowered his voice. “On my terms.”

Her hair crackled with energy, and her skin nearly glowed with power. “You think you can take me, Connlan?”

“Yes.” He kept her gaze, not flinching, not moving an inch. She deserved fair warning. He could and would take her out of the danger edging closer to her. And he’d keep her whether she liked it or not. “Make your choice.”

She flashed her teeth in a smile of pure challenge. “Come and get me.”

Dage found Conn beating the hell out of a punching bag in the underground headquarters’ impressive gym. The dark slate walls provided coolness and protection so far into the earth. Industrial lights angled down, bathing the area in harsh yellow. He rolled his shoulders, his mind calculating how in the hell the Kurjans had found their compound.

“I have the newest results on Emma. She hasn’t been infected.” The knot of fear he’d been living with had finally abated. He raised an eyebrow when his brother aimed a killing blow to the bag.

Conn nodded. “That’s good news.” Thick gouges and already healing cuts spread across his bare back from the battle earlier that morning.

Dage sighed. “You should get some rest.”

“Don’t need rest.” Conn threw a roundhouse punch, sending the bag spiraling away and back again, where he shot a side-kick and tore off the bottom half that dropped on the mat. “Need to make sure our soldiers are prepared to fight exceptionally gifted werewolves.”

Dage guessed werewolves were the last creatures on his brother’s mind. He’d bet anything a little redheaded witch had put Conn in this killing mood. “Has Kane concluded his tests?”

“Yes. The werewolves that attacked us were all human converts. No shifters.” Conn’s head butted the top of the bag, ripping the holdings loose from the ceiling. “Maybe the virus is unable to create werewolves out of shifters.” He stepped back as the bag fell and rolled over.

“We should know more next time the full moon comes out.” Dage cracked his neck, wondering if Maggie would be able to fight back the werewolf inside her for a third time. Although the third time signified the human victim becoming a werewolf for good, who knows how long it would take a shifter. He figured Kane was correct to wait after the next full moon before trying the spell on Maggie. If she beat the virus a third time with her natural immunities, there was a pretty good chance the virus needed some work.

“If she shifts into a werewolf?” Conn clapped both gloved hands together, his deep green gaze meeting Dage’s. “Are you going to give the order?”

“No.” Dage wouldn’t order anyone to kill the shifter. “Even if she turns into a werewolf, there’s a chance we might turn her back.” If not, he’d be the one to take her out. He wouldn’t ask anyone else to live with the deed.

“I see.” Conn stepped back from the bag. “If the time comes, it’s my job to take her out.”

Not in a million years. They’d deal with the issue if the time came. Dage steeled his spine, his gaze direct on his brother. “I need to thank you for covering my back. When I—”

“Completely lost your mind? Completely forgot all your training?” Sweat ran in rivulets down Conn’s strong face, his eyes an inscrutable green.

“Yes.”

Conn nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Dage lifted both eyebrows. “That’s it?” At the very least he had expected a punch to the face.

Conn shrugged. “What else is there?”

Hopefully Dage’s talk with his other siblings would go as well. “I guess Moira helped save our nephew’s life.” For now, anyway. Dage grabbed a towel off the rack to throw at his brother.

Conn snatched the thick cotton out of the air and wiped off his forehead and chest. “So I heard.” He grinned. “My witch is a good woman, no question about that.”

“Yes, she is.” Dage narrowed his gaze. “Just let me know when you want to go and we’ll go.”

“I leave tomorrow.” Conn tossed the towel into a nearby bin.

Dage stilled. “We leave tomorrow.”

“No.” Determination hardened Conn’s square jaw. “I go. I’ll call if I need help.”

Dage shook his head. “No—”

“Yes.” Conn set his stance. “Something’s going on here. You need to stay.” He reached out and clasped Dage’s arm. “I promise I’ll contact you if necessary.” He let go, gesturing around the room. “We have a problem here, and I’ll be back as soon as possible. But I have this weird tickle at the base of my neck ...”

“Me too.” Dage shifted his focus as Jase loped into the room.

“I’ve got a weird feeling,” Jase said, a deep frown on his face. “Something’s bugging me and I can’t quite put my finger on it.” He eyed the destroyed bag on the ground before shrugging.

Kane crossed into the room with a stack of papers in his hands, his eyes a sizzling purple. “Cara’s orange juice was infected with the catalyst.” He handed a printout to Dage. “We brought all the food and drink out of Talen’s suite before blowing up the residence facility.”

“What about my rooms?” Dage scanned the report.

“A bottle of soda in your fridge was infected with the virus, but no one had opened it yet.” Kane shifted through his papers.

Dage growled. “Somebody managed to infect something in my private suite?” The idea of the enemy being so close to his mate clenched his gut and fired his spine. Did those damn humans who’d broken into the lab find a way into his private quarters? Maybe he should’ve killed them.

“Yes.”

“Have you informed Talen about Cara’s juice?” Dage asked.

“Yes, he did,” Talen answered from the door, stalking inside with a furious scowl on his face. He handed Dage a computer printout. “Here are the names of anyone who had access to both of our suites. Family, friends, guards, and humans.”

Dage smiled for the first time that day. Only five people knew he read minds, and four of them stood in the room with him. Emma was the fifth. “Apparently we need to meet one-on-one with some people.” When he found the traitor, he’d rip off the bastard’s head with his bare hands. “We need to speak with the scientists we fired.”

“I’ve kept track of them.” Talen nodded. “I’ve already scheduled the times to interview our people. We meet with the guards one at a time first.”

“Good.” Dage cleared his throat. “I wanted to thank all of you for covering my back when I thought—”

“And mine,” Talen said solemnly.

Kane ran a hand through his thick hair, and Jase shuffled his feet. “No problem,” they said in unison.

Jase grinned. “Though I am never getting mated. Ever.”

A vision swam into Dage’s head where Jase stood at an altar with a woman in white. A veil shielded her face. “Don’t be so sure.” Dage chuckled and then left them to hash it out, striding down the hallway and up two flights of stairs.

The king quickly lost his smile as he remembered someone had been in his suite at the residency facility. Someone had been close enough to harm his mate. His thoughts shifted to Emma as he pushed open the door to their rooms.

His mate, dressed in jeans and a dark shirt, waited, stance set, hair pulled back. Spiced peaches filled his senses. He cocked his head to the side. “Emma?”

She lifted her chin. “A couple of things occurred to me earlier today, Dage.”

Why did this not sound good? Without question he’d been rough with her in the forest. He deserved a tongue lashing. “Okay.” His blood began to hum with the spirit of her challenge and the need to take her to the floor. Diplomacy squashed instinct inside him. For now.

“I don’t take orders from you.” She spoke slowly, clearly as if wanting to get each word exactly right. Her gaze focused hard on his jaw.

“I’m the king, love. Everyone takes orders from me.” Only pure strength of will kept him from grinning. He waited to see how clear and calm she would stay.

“But that’s just it.” Triumph filled those stunning eyes when she lifted her gaze to meet his. Finally. “I’m with the man, not the king. The king can kiss my ass.”

The king had every intention of kissing her ass, maybe biting it as well. “Frankly, you’ve done a piss-poor job of following my orders anyway.”

Her gasp made him want to roar with laughter.

She put her hands on her hips. “I just wanted to make things clear.”

His mate was on the offensive. A true sign of someone feeling defensive. Why? He narrowed his gaze. “It’s always a good idea to strive for clarity.” His mind flashed through the last twenty-four hours to seek the reason, and everything in him stilled. Ice pricked inside his veins. How did he not see this before? “Emma,” he breathed.

She took the smallest step back, her blue eyes widening. “What?”

The blood rushing through his ears made it difficult to focus. Fury like he’d never known swept the breath from his chest. A crimson haze clouded his vision. “You knew.”

She froze in place, a soft blush coloring her high cheekbones. “I don’t know what you’re—”

“Stop!”

His barked order had the color deserting her face. He was past giving a shit. “You knew.” Her slight shrug sent a snarl bubbling up from his gut. “You fucking knew the lab would explode.”

“Not until the spring,” she whispered, clasping her hands. “In the vision the smell of tulips always preceded the explosion. I figured I had until next spring.”

He’d assumed she’d been granted a vision seconds before the missiles fired. But she hadn’t. “How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long have you known about the explosion?”

Emotions ran across her face as she considered lying. He waited her out. Finally, she sighed. “For years.”

His blood heated and his veins began to burn. Anger whipped through him. Trust. They hadn’t come close to trusting each other. The earth rumbled a warning. He stamped down on the need to explode and focused on the woman standing before him. His mate. “You’ve gone too far.”

Emma readied her stance across the room from the king and gulped in air, searching for a logical way to diffuse the situation. She did what she had to do.

He cocked his head to the side, his rage slamming into her. “You managed to shield the information.” His eyes flashed black. “From me.”

Her own temper began to raise its head. “Why wouldn’t I?” She lifted her chin. “You already had me banished from the lab once. I couldn’t let that happen again.” The focus of her entire life had been to protect Cara. No way would she stop now.

His nostrils flared. “I should’ve known. I should’ve guessed this.” He took a step toward her. “You think I haven’t noticed? The way relief fills your eyes when you see Talen taking care of Cara? In case you die?” Dage took another step and the air around Emma heated. “The way you study him for weaknesses. Just in case.”

She frowned. “In case of what?”

“In case he hurts her and you need to take him out.”

Emma wanted to deny the statement but couldn’t. The king understood her better than she thought. “I don’t want to hurt your brother.”

“You think that’s why I’m mad? Really?” Dage’s voice lowered to a timber promising retribution. “I’m angry you don’t trust me to take care of things. Don’t trust me with the truth.”

Furious was an understatement. If she’d ever believed Dage anything close to human, the thought was dispelled in that moment. Fire glinted through the silver in his eyes and a nearly amber energy crackled along his bare arms. Instinct set in, and she eyed the door. Time to run.

“You won’t make it.” The set of his chin and lift of his brow dared her to try. His expression promised louder than any words that he wanted to chase her down.

“You haven’t trusted me, either.” She spoke softly. While she’d rather toss something at his stubborn-ass head, survival instinct kicked in as she faced the animal inside the king. “I understand your anger.”

He chuckled. Deep and without any humor. “You don’t understand a damn thing. That ends this second.”

Emma nodded, fighting a catch in her throat, in her heart. He’d leave now.

His head shot up and pure fire swirled through those immortal eyes. “Leave? You think this is over, love?” Anger punctuated each syllable. “No. This actually starts now.”

She took a step backward, for the first time in her life lacking the right words. The force before her stole any logic she may own. “I don’t understand.”

His lids half closed, power filling the oxygen in the room. “You will.”