Hunted

Chapter 19

Moira needed a diversion to get the hell out of the Kayrs fortress. She couldn’t betray Conn or bring danger to Janie’s doorstep. But she couldn’t turn her back on family and the Nine, either. Her mind clicked through battle plans as she sat back in the folding chair, stretching her shoulders. Even while calculating her odds, she fought a grin as the Queen of the Realm exploded in temper.

“This is bullshit.” Emma Paulsen, soon to be Kayrs, slammed a beaker down in the well-appointed lab. Test tubes lined the cement counter, along with a bunch of machines busy bleeping and spitting out data. The scent of bleach and cleanser ruled the room. “They go off to fight, and we’re stuck underground not anywhere near the stuff I need at the lab.” Her amazing blue eyes flashed in equal parts anger and fear.

“They’ll be fine, Emma.” Her sister Cara rubbed a very pregnant belly from a lush office chair, the luxurious recliner out of place in the stark lab, but obviously provided for her comfort. She surveyed a row of drawers with eyes the exact color of Emma’s. “Any idea where Kane keeps his candy stash down here?” The drawers slid open without a hitch, and Cara sighed each time she slammed one shut. “I know he has chocolate somewhere.”

Moira fought a chill at the cool air being pumped through the vents, homesickness nearly swamping her. Brenna loved chocolate. Darcy would rather have caramel. They’d gone to blows over a Snickers once.

“Why isn’t Kane in here working with you?” Maybe she could get him to help her out. Or at least trick him somehow. Of course, considering the guy was probably the smartest sentient being on the planet, the chances of that were slim. Rumor had it he could fight, and well.

Emma let out an elegant sniff. Wisps of black hair dropped out of the knot on top of her head to frame her narrow face as she smacked a manila file folder against her leg. “The oh-so-powerful Kayrs brother is working aboveground in the lab I need to be in. You know, the one with the vents allowing us to experiment with different elements?”

“Ah,” Moira glanced at the row of beakers lining a shelf running a length of the counter. “You understand you’re the queen and have to be protected at all costs, right?” If the woman thought the vampire nation would let her be in any danger, she was crazy. Not to mention that she was mated to Dage, probably one of the most protective mates on the planet.

Emma pivoted slowly, her lab coat whispering against her denim-clad legs. “Is that right?”

Uh-oh. “Well, I mean ...”

The queen raised a dark eyebrow. “Well, using your logic, you’re mated to a prince, Moira. Surely that means you need to be kept blanketed in safety at all times, too.” The queen used sarcasm like a pro.

There had to be a good way to say this. “I’m trained, Emma. I mean, I’m an enforcer.”

“What makes you think I can’t fight?” Emma put both hands on her hips. “Not only do I kick ass, I can teleport. For the love of Pete, the king’s abilities are mine. Almost.”

Interesting. “That happened quickly. Well then, yeah. You’re right.” Moira shrugged, eyeing the door. “I tried to get out when Conn left, but the security in this place is outrageous.” She’d have to take out a vampire or seven to escape, and she would. “Do you know where the armory is?”

Cara laughed. “Yes. But, we’re not letting you shoot your way out, Moira. Not until the guys get back, at least.”

Although Moira had just spent the last half hour on the phone with her mother being ordered to stay in place, she’d find the armory on her own. The assurances that the Nine’s soldiers had gone after Grace hadn’t relieved her ... considering no one knew where to look. Moira eyed her new friend. “So how’s the babe? Ready to make his appearance?”

Cara bit her lip. “Yes. He kicks like crazy.” A smile lit her stunning face. “It’s nice knowing he has to be a boy since vampires only make boys. I painted his room green. Talen wanted blue, but the green reminded me of his eyes when he gets, ah, irritated.” She rubbed her belly. “I’d like to get a sonogram and make sure the baby is fine.” Her gaze focused on Moira. “Can you visualize a witch in the womb or are they protected from sight as well?”

“Sonograms only work on humans.” The rest of the species on earth created too strong a shield for developing babies. Moira shrugged. “You’re an empath. You feel how the babe is doing.”

“Yeah, I do.” A smaller smile flirted with Cara’s lips. “He gives me a strong sense of peace, much like Janie did at this point. The boy is fine. Stubborn, like Talen.” She closed her eyes, pursing her lips. Irritation flashed across her pale skin when her eyelids popped open. “The stupid virus—I can’t reach Talen.”

Emma peered into a microscope, her voice muffled. “He’d shield from you during the fight, anyway.” She straightened, leaning sideways and scribbling notes in a chart. “My psychic abilities have focused solely on the virus lately. I wish I could aim the visions into the future where I want.” She glanced over her shoulder, focusing on Moira. “Can you sense Conn?”

“No.” Moira fought a frown. “We’ve worked so hard to shield each other the last century since we were living our own lives. I’m not sure if we’ll be able to speak telepathically like you do. Or even if we can track each other.” That would be convenient right now.

“You won’t know unless you try.” Cara leaned toward the counter, sliding open a drawer. With a triumphant “a-ha,” she yanked out a candy bar.

Moira mentally listed the supplies most likely found in the lab. Brute strength wouldn’t free her, but altering matter on a subatomic level might. Nothing like magic to blow a hole in a wall. “So, how’s the progress on the virus coming?”

“That’s what I’d like to hear.” A woman swept into the room, blond hair cascading down her back and tawny eyes flashing. She held a large notebook in one hand.

“Moira, this is Katie Smith, our local friendly lion shifter.” Emma tilted her head. “Katie, this is Moira, Conn’s mate.”

Katie held out a hand and smiled. “Hi. You saved Cara’s baby months ago.”

Moira shook. “No, not really. I merely helped Emma alter the matter in her cure to negate the catalyst.” The Kurjans had created a catalyst that sped up the progression of the virus and Cara had been infected. Emma and Moira had neutralized the catalyst, thus slowing progression—but they hadn’t altered the actual virus.

“Yes, you did.” Cara licked chocolate off her fingers. “A debt I’ll never be able to repay.”

“You already made me an aunt with Janie, and now I have a nephew on the way. We’re even.” Moira wondered what other types of candy Kane hid. She’d love a piece of butterscotch. Then she faltered. “I mean, well, I’m not married—”

“No stuttering here, girlfriend.” Cara smiled, reaching for another candy bar. “Believe me, as a Kayrs mate, I get it. Confusion is a way of life.”

Moira let out a relieved laugh. “Yes. Ah, thanks.”

Katie shuffled her feet. The scent of wild orchids mixed with Cajun spices wafted around. “So, anything new with the virus?”

Midnight black hair flew when Emma shook her head. “The antivirals we’ve been experimenting with slow down the progression almost to a standstill. While the eight pills a day are a pain, at least they’re giving us some time to find a complete cure.”

Katie frowned, gliding toward the counter. “Are we doing more tests on the catalyst today?”

Moira lifted her head. “Are you a scientist, too?” Maybe the lion shifter would help her escape.

“No.” Katie sighed. “I take notes. Emma does experiments, and I write stuff down. So helpful.”

“You are helpful, Katie. And yes, we’re doing more research on the catalyst today.” Emma grabbed another file and nodded toward a row of syringes filled with golden liquid. “I thought we’d blend some with the werewolf blood Kane obtained, and mix in the HIV drugs used to treat humans.”

“Are these normal doses or are we super dosing again today?” Katie asked.

“Normal doses,” Emma said.

“Good. I do appreciate being able to help. At least I see what’s going on.” Katie nodded, placing her notebook next to the shots. “How did my blood tests come out from yesterday?”

Emma grabbed a blue file and flipped the top open to read. “Your tests were good. No change in the progression of the virus, which means the handful of pills you’re taking every day is actually doing some good.” She flipped the file shut, smiling. “We’re buying time.”

Katie shook her head. “I stopped taking the medication a month ago. Yet the virus is doing nothing.”

Emma slammed down the file. “You stopped taking your pills? Katie, you’re killing me.”

Moira bit her lip. “Ah, you have the virus?” At Katie’s nod, she continued, “Why stop taking the medication?”

“I can’t shift.” Shivering pain coated Katie’s voice. “The second they infected me, I lost the ability to shift into a lion.” Tears filled her bourbon colored eyes. “My friend, Maggie, is a wolf shifter and she was infected with the virus and the catalyst. Every month during a full moon she fights the need to turn into a werewolf, and turns into a wolf instead. She can still shift.”

Moira had heard the Kurjans were trying to create a slave werewolf class, which would be stronger and live longer than humans turned werewolves. “I thought three cycles of a full moon and someone infected became a werewolf for good.” Of course, that was only when a werewolf bit a human. Having shifters turn into werewolves was a whole new mess.

Katie nodded. “Yeah. We waited three full moons, thinking if Maggie beat them all, she’d be cured. Instead, she has to fight the urge every full moon.” Emotion swirled through Katie’s eyes. “Maggie can still shift into a wolf... at least once a month.”

“So. There have actually been documented cases of shifters being infected.” Moira wondered what else the leaders of the Realm had kept under wraps. She needed to notify the Coven Nine. “Since Maggie is a wolf shifter and you’re a lion shifter, you might react differently to the virus.” Shifters were canine, feline, or multi—those who could shift into any animal except canine or feline.

Emma huffed out a breath. “I’ve told Katie that repeatedly. We have no idea how the virus will continue to affect her. Hopefully the bug will be neutralized and go away, similar to a common cold.” She slid the file into a drawer. “We think maybe the catalyst in Maggie’s system is what allowed the virus to progress to the point of where she had to shift.” A frown marred the queen’s face. “But again, we don’t know anything for sure, Katie. Quitting the medicine could be a huge mistake for you.”

“Then I should take this all the way.” Katie moved too fast for anyone to react. With impressive reflexes, she grabbed a syringe, shoving the needle into her arm and pressing the stopper. The shimmering liquid slid through the needle, leaving an empty threat behind.

Cara clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh my God.”

Emma dropped her pencil, her face sheeting white. “Katie. What did you just do?” She rushed forward, grabbing and turning Katie’s arm to view the protruding needle.

“Don’t worry. I’ve been doing my research on the catalyst and know how much to take.” The lioness shrugged, removing the syringe and dropping the shot into a metal trash can. “I’m done waiting. Either this thing helps me shift again, or it kills me.”

“You don’t need to worry about the catalyst.” Cara shoved herself to her feet, struggling with the last couple inches. The chair released her with a groan. She steadied herself with a hand on the counter. “Jordan is going to kill you.”

Katie grabbed a rolling chair and dropped onto the seat, freeing herself from Emma. “The man keeps offering to mate with me. He thinks it might bring back my shifting ability.”

“Mating might work,” Emma hissed. “I’d rather experiment with Jordan than place poison in your veins.” She paced back and forth, her hand running through her hair. “I can’t believe you did this.” Her gaze darted around the counter. “I have nothing. There’s nothing to inject you with to counteract what you just did.” She whirled on Katie, her hands in the air. “I would’ve recommended mating with Jordan as an experiment before you did something like this.”

A wry smile lifted Katie’s lips. “First of all, the leader of the entire feline world can’t mate with someone unable to shift.” She shrugged. “Old-fashioned and probably wrong, but you all know it’s true.”

Moira straightened. They had to be talking about Jordan Pride. She’d met the dangerous lion on several occasions. The man seemed to possess an abundance of honor and duty. Would he mate out of duty? Somehow, based on her knowledge of the passionate natures of shifters, she doubted it.

“Jordan is capable of making his own decisions. He can mate whoever he wants.” Cara lifted her chin. “He offered, and I think you should’ve said yes. Considering you love the man.” Her hand trembled against her stomach.

Katie flushed pink. “Yeah, well, he never showed an ounce of interest until deciding I needed saving. Sacrificing himself is merely one reason he’s such a good leader.”

Moira barely kept herself from nodding. She wouldn’t mate a guy who was trying to do her a favor. It was one of the reasons she’d kept her distance from Conn all those years. He’d stay with her out of duty. She wanted more. Needed more. Tears pressured the back of her eyelids. Sadness settled like a dead weight in her stomach. What if he hadn’t marked her that night? Would they have found something together ... on their own? Regretting such a thing was silly, yet she couldn’t help but wish they’d had a chance.

Katie dabbed at the blood still welling on her arm. “How long until this thing kicks in?”

Emma huffed out in irritation. “We don’t know. Infection took a day with Cara, but she’s human. This might take years with you.” If possible, the queen paled further. Her hand went to her head. “Damn vision coming.” She swayed and only Moira’s quick movements kept her from falling to the floor.

She grabbed the queen under the armpits, faltering and assisting her to the stone floor. Pressing Emma against the cupboards to prevent her from pitching forward, Moira balanced her friend with hands against her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

Tears filled Emma’s eyes. Her face pinched in pain. “It’s Conn. He’s gone.”

The clouds opened up, beating them with rain turning to ice as it dropped. Dage Kayrs used his boot to roll the man over, a frown on his face. He left a size sixteen muddy print in the guy’s side. “Panther.” He sniffed the air, his gut beginning to clench. “I smell Conn. This guy grappled with Conn.” It looked like the shifter had been tossed down a mountain. Or out a helicopter. Dage had heard the bird lift, but had been wrestling with two demons at the time.

The downed panther didn’t move, his breath shallow, his nose smashed nearly flat.

Jordan Pride sprinted over, his lip twisted into a snarl. A gash bled across his left cheekbone. “That’s Robert Wright, a soldier for the clan.”

The clan leader knelt, running his gaze over the injured man. “Wright, hold on. We have a medical team coming.” Jordan frowned. “I smell Conn all over him.” Glancing around, he studied the smoldering building, the bodies of a few demons littering the ground, as well as their wounded. A low growl escaped. “We didn’t meet enough resistance to warrant a fight, Dage.”

“This was a trap.” Dage fought to rein his temper. They’d fought about ten demons, all woefully undertrained. Newbies. But they’d managed to mess with his mind to the point a cloud still slowed his thought processes. “Yeah, and I’m thinking your shifter friends were in on the plan.” Otherwise none of this made sense. Where were the captured shifters? Why had Conn fought with this guy?

Jase jogged up, wiping blood off his forehead. “I found a dead shifter three stories down, with Conn’s scent all over him.” He tossed a dart with black feathers for Dage to catch. “Several of these littered the floor—and I found a tunnel leading outside. The pine needles and grass were crushed, probably by the helicopter we heard.”

“They drugged him?” They would have needed a boatload of tranquilizers ... and a changing mixture to keep him down. Dage gave a short nod to a medic rushing forward with a kit and pointed to Wright. “Wake him up.”

The medic’s eyebrow rose in his dark face, but he knelt and conducted a brief examination. The wind whipped hair into his mouth, and he spit out the strands. “If I inject him with adrenaline, he may die.”

Jordan growled, fury digging into the lines of his face. “Will he have a chance to talk first?”

The medic cut his gaze to Dage and back. “He might have a few minutes, but I can’t guarantee it.” Flipping open his pack, he grabbed a syringe, shielding it from the elements with his body. “Shifters are tough to kill, but they can die by internal bleeding if the injuries are great enough.” He ran his fingers over what appeared to be broken ribs. “I’d say the injuries are life-threatening here. We need to get him to the hospital in Canada.”

“We’re going to need more hospitals,” Jordan murmured.

“Already in the works.” Dage had ordered the creation of new medical facilities the second the Kurjans had declared war. “I purchased the real estate decades ago and have been earmarking funds for construction as well as scholarships for medical training.” He’d doubled the order for hospitals when the demons had joined in the war. Now it appeared some of the shifter allies he thought he’d had were coming after him. If the witches withdrew from the Realm, he was screwed. For one second he flashed back to the last war centuries ago, when his parents had been killed and he’d needed to step up. He’d thought the pain and difficulty had been because of his youth.

He was wrong.

Men hustled around, collecting the wounded. “What should I do?” the medic asked, wiping rain off his forehead.

Jordan dropped into a crouch. The rain mingled with the spattered blood, turning his blond hair a matted red. “Inject him.”

At Dage’s nod, the medic plunged a syringe into the cat’s chest. Wright gasped, his entire body clenching, and then relaxing. “What—” He opened blood-filled eyes, blinking to focus. Vibrations from his pain shimmered in the air.

Jordan lowered his face. “Where did they take Connlan Kayrs?” He placed one hand against Wright’s ribs.

The medic opened his mouth to object, and Dage jerked his head toward the burning building. “We have injured over by the tree line. Go help.” The vampire took one last hard look at Wright, grabbed his kit, and hurried off. Dage settled his stance, letting Jordan handle his man, who was obviously too weak to shift.

Wright’s eyes widened. He coughed, the rattle spitting clotted blood out his mouth. He blinked against the rain.

Jordan pressed down. “Tell me or I swear to God, I’m going to yank each rib out of you one at a time.” His voice lowered to a guttural rumble sounding more animal than man.

Wright bellowed in pain, his shoulders spasming and scattering pine needles. “I ... fuck you,” he gasped, his legs kicking out.

Jordan dug his fingers in, and Wright shrieked, the sound like death a day late. Grabbing the panther’s hair and yanking back, Jordan lowered his face to an inch away. “That was nothing. My knife comes out next. Where is Kayrs?”

Wright’s eyes fluttered, his shoulders relaxed. “Dunno,” he slurred, smiling blood covered canines. “Wouldn’t tell us. Just get you, get on helicopter.”

Smart. Dage crossed his arms. “Whoever planned this figured you wouldn’t make it, Robert. Not a lot of faith in you.”

Jordan leaned back. “You planned this to trap me? Why?”

Wright coughed, sending blood flying. “We know”—he gasped out—“you’re mating a werewolf. And ... Caleb.”

“Caleb?” Dage dropped to his haunches to better hear. “Your clan isn’t one that has fought with Caleb over the years for supporting his brother.”

Jordan snarled. “Katie’s not a werewolf, you prick. She has a virus.”

Wright closed his eyes. “Realm’s weak. Time to take over.” His head trembling, his eyes slowly opened to focus on Jordan. “You’re weak. Marcus is strong.” His lids fluttered shut. One rattling exhale whooshed out of his lungs, and his body relaxed in death.

Jordan stood, turning his back on the panther. “Marcus Paltrow, the head of the clan.” He waved an arm at his enforcers. “I’ll get the word out ... we’ll find Conn.” Pivoting, he jogged over to confer with his men.

Dage tapped his ear communicator.

“Did you save the shifters?” Kane said by way of answer, the typing of computer keys ticking across the line.

“It was a trap. They wanted Jordan and took Conn.”

The typing stopped. Kane exhaled slowly, giving Dage his full attention.

“Marcus Paltrow engineered the trap. Find him.”

“On it.” Kane clicked off.

Neither of them said what couldn’t be said. If the shifters had wanted Jordan, Conn would be more of a liability than asset. Dage surveyed the medics patching up his men.

Jase cleared his throat. “They could’ve killed him in the tunnels.”

An explosion of energy ripped through Dage’s system, so he kept his face bland. “The group was supposed to get Jordan, failed, so they took who they could. I’m assuming their leader will create a plan.”

Jase cocked an eyebrow in direct contrast to the hand clenching and unclenching at his side. “A plan? Dage, we’re talking about Conn, the greatest soldier ever born. He won’t break.”

Dread slid down Dage’s trachea to settle in his gut. “No. Breaking Conn won’t be the point.” Dage waited until Jase’s eyes widened with realization, then raw fury. “Exactly.”

“They wouldn’t.”

“Sure they would. Publicly decapitating the most powerful soldier ever born to the Realm? How weak would we look?”

If Conn died, the ensuring war would coat the earth in blood. Not to mention what it’d do to Dage personally—as well as to his brothers. “Thinking as a king, the move would be bold and send a message.”

“And thinking as a brother?” Jase asked, no longer wiping the shredding rain off his face.

Power coiled inside Dage, careening to shoot out. Force of will, tenuous and fading, shoved it down. “As a brother, I’d unleash hell.” He believed in mercy. And right or wrong, he believed in vengeance. The two rarely existed during the same span of time. If the shifters beheaded his brother, mercy would cease to exist.

“Have faith in Conn, Dage.”

“I do.” If he didn’t, he’d be ripping through the shifting clans for answers, not caring who he hurt. He eyed Jordan talking to his enforcers. “Sounds like the shifting clans are as unsettled as the Realm right now.” The world was exploding.

Talen raced up, smashing wet pine needles into the snow.

Dage centered himself. “Report.”

Talen tucked a knife into his pocket. “We’ve cleared the entire facility. Five demons down, the rest made it out the back as the first charge blew.” He glanced down at the dead shifter. “Counting this guy, two dead shifters, neither Jordan’s. We have three wounded, not seriously.” Emerald overtook the gold in Talen’s dangerous eyes. “And my brother is gone.”