“But what?” Maggie and Janie said in unison.
“The werewolf, Brent. He called Jordan ‘cousin’.”
“Interesting.” Maggie rubbed her chin.
“Yeah. I didn’t even know he had family.” Sure, she knew his parents had died in the last Kurjan uprising, but had figured they were Jordan’s only relatives. What else hadn’t the lion leader shared with her?
Janie sighed. “I’ve been having bad visions lately of something dark pursuing you, but I can’t get a full picture.”
“Oh, I’ve had the picture. Probably.” Katie exchanged pool sticks with another one in the holder on the wall. “Brent has a serious ... ah ... interest in me.”
“It’s more than one werewolf.” Janie smoothed the triangle along the table, neatly lining up the balls.
“Great.” A chill swept down her spine even as Katie found the right pool stick. “Sometimes I want to shift back to cougar so badly I think I can make it happen. I need the ability to fight what’s coming. Somehow I just know that.”
“I wish I could shift.” Janie stepped away, tilting her head for Katie to break.
Katie leaned over, aimed, and shot. Balls went smoothly rolling, but not one sank. “I miss feeling the change from human to pure animal, so much.” She sidled out of the way so Janie could shoot.
Maggie sighed. “I can shift, but only once a month when the moon is full. Each time I feel a little stronger, so I keep hoping I’ll go back to normal someday. I mean, whatever normal used to be. It’s not like I remember.”
“That totally sucks.” Katie gave her a sympathetic smile. Whatever the Kurjans had done to Maggie had destroyed her memories.
Janie lined up a shot and dropped a colored ball. “You’re stripes.” She aimed again. One shaking hand rubbed her forehead.
“What’s wrong?” Concern had Katie pausing.
“Vision about Jase, somewhere near a sea. Scotland, I think. I’ve tried to get him to come home, but he won’t come.” Janie leaned over to concentrate on her next shot. Aiming carefully, she cleared the table, straightening with a tight smile. “I’ve been practicing.”
Obviously. Katie slid the stick back into the wall holder. “Maybe you should tell Dage about Jase.”
“I have. He nods, but says Jase needs to get a line on the demons before they attack. We’ve both seen the attacks coming. It’s bad.”
Demon attacks might rip the Realm apart. “Like we don’t have enough to worry about with the Kurjans.”
“It’s difficult keeping everyone safe.” Maggie sighed. “Where is your mom now, anyway?”
“Alaskan cruise.” Millie Smith loved to travel with her mah-jongg group. “She should be returning home next month.” Maybe. If everything went to hell and Noah had to take over, he’d probably extend the cruise, considering his mama was on it, too. Of course, the new antiviral would work and Jordan would be saved, so Noah wouldn’t have to step up. Katie smiled at Janie. “She said to tell you happy birthday next week.”
“She sent me a hand-knitted blanket with cougars on it—I love it.” Janie brushed curls off her face. “Her note said something about you learning to knit ... and I tried really hard not to laugh.”
“Very funny.” Katie flashed a grin. “Mom has tried to teach me so many times, but I’m all thumbs.” Of course, she kept trying because her attempts amused her mother. For Millie’s last birthday, Katie had actually completed a blanket featuring a bald eagle. Well, the bird looked more like a bald buzzard, but she’d tried her best. Millie had proudly placed the blanket over her sofa in the formal living room like it was a work of art.
“Your mom is pretty cool.” Maggie eyed another grape soda.
So true. Katie had been inviting Maggie home with her, and Millie had taken the wounded wolf into the family immediately. “She loves you, too.”
If nothing else, Katie would always owe Jordan for rescuing her from Jim Bob and taking her to Millie. The petite lioness had instantly taken her in, even adopting her within the human court system. God, Katie loved her mom.
Janie cued her pool stick and cleared her throat. “Um, I’m sorry about Jordan getting infected.”
“Thanks. Any chance you see the future regarding him?” If the little psychic saw Jordan sometime, anytime, in the future, that’d be awesome.
“No, sorry. But that doesn’t mean anything, Katie. I don’t usually see the stuff I’m looking for.” Janie’s eyes clouded over. “So many futures spin through my mind sometimes ... every move we make changes what will happen.”
And yet, she didn’t see Jordan at all?
Down the hallway, Jordan leaned against the wall, a small smile playing on his face from the interplay. He’d been eavesdropping all day. Talen’s suffering at Janie’s impending date tickled him. Jordan had never really thought about having a family, but now that it was too late, a sense of loss centered in his chest. He’d heard the truth earlier in Emma’s tone—the antiviral wouldn’t work by the time he needed it. Which was now.
Old doubts crowded in. How could Brent be alive? Though, well now, that would be fate’s idea of a freakin’ joke. Jordan’s darkest moment, coming back to haunt him just as death knocked on his door.
The moments before that one ... they were good. Full of carefree laughter and way too much juvenile fun. Even then, he and Conn Kayrs had been the best of friends, causing havoc.
Jordan shut his eyes against the last week of his life, memories flooding in. Three centuries ago, the leaders of his pride had relocated them to the mountains of the new country. Away from rumors, away from humans who suspected some people could change into animals, the mountains of what became the United States seemed a safe place to land.
The turn of the century had created a new ample playground for vampires and shifters. Jordan and Conn had committed themselves to exploration. For years, the two of them had wandered, meeting newly arrived folks as well as those who’d lived in the area for so long.
Awakening one morning in a ramshackle barn, straw stuck to his forehead, Jordan had looked for his friend. The vampire had stumbled in, his green eyes bloodshot and a stupid grin on his face. “Where’s the lady?”
Jordan groaned, pushing to his feet. He smelled like cow dung and ale. “Probably hurried back to her husband. Lucky fellow.”
Conn had snorted. “We might need to leave the area for a bit. Farmers get particular about their daughters.”
“Did you finally choose one, then?” Jordan swayed, the ale from the previous night making his head ache. There had been three curvy women vying for Conn’s attention at the barn raising across the dusty town.
“Not exactly one.”
“Your parents would kill you.” Jordan grimaced, as his parents wouldn’t be too happy, either. Of course, he and Conn were just in their early twenties and responsibility wouldn’t arrive for a century, maybe two. At least Jordan didn’t have to worry about ruling his people, like the Kayrs men did.
Conn shrugged. “They should be finishing up at the world symposium brokering deals with the new land in play now that the Kurjans finally want to be part of the Realm. My mum was looking forward to seeing yours again.”
“Yes—they’ll have a good time together.” Even though Jordan’s father wasn’t the leader of a pride, he was a statistical genius, and often advised his cousin, their ruler. “Well, what do you think about heading west and really exploring? It appears to be all mountains and wildlife. Might be fun.”
“I don’t know. Civilization appeals to me. All the women and ale, I mean.” Conn rubbed his chin. “I wanted Dage to come over and have some fun, but he’s so bogged down in duty. It’s like he thinks he’ll take over soon, rather than a thousand years from now.”
A chill swept down Jordan’s spine. “The guy is psychic.”
Conn laughed. “I know. Which so far has just made him difficult to beat in games. We need to come up for a plan next time we have a vampire/shifter soccer match.”
“We will.” Jordan smiled at his best friend. Life was fantastic, he had amazing friends, and the world was his. No responsibility for a while, and a whole new continent to explore. “For now, let’s go scale mountains.”
Conn stiffened.
Tension spiraled through the barn. Jordan pivoted toward the door. Power lay on the other side ... raw power.
Conn frowned, sliding open the door.
Dage Kayrs stood on the other side, a frown on his face, fury in his silver eyes.
“Dage, you’re here.” A wide smile covered Conn’s face that slowly disappeared as he took in his brother. “How did you find us?”
“I teleported a few towns over and have been looking for you.” Dage took a deep breath. “I have bad news.”
Jordan shook himself back to the present, not wanting to relive the moment when he discovered the Kurjans had engineered a brilliant massacre, taking out the leaders of the Realm. Taking out his parents.
Keeping his eyes closed, he took several deep breaths.
Pain exploded across his cheekbone. His eyes flashed open to see a fist coming at him again. He ducked, pivoting around to see the threat. “What the fuck?”
Connlan Kayrs settled his stance. “I’m tired of this shit.”
“What shit?” The bastard had coldcocked him for no reason. Anger swirled deep in Jordan’s gut. He dropped into a fighting stance.
“This ... I give up ... I’m gonna be a werewolf... bullshit.”
Garrett loped into the hallway. “Uh, Uncle Conn? You’re supposed to go to the gym next time you wanna hit somebody.”
Conn growled low. “You’re right. Let’s go, cat.”
Chapter 8
K
alin relaxed in the newest Kurjan encampment and surveyed the waiting werewolves. Experienced, strangely calm, the twenty killer beasts sat on stumps or rocks in the forest, eating raw meat. Of course, he’d injected the meat with massive amounts of horse tranquilizer, but still. The monsters had gained some self-control during the last decade. Unfortunately, unlike human converts, the shifter-turned-werewolf couldn’t be enslaved completely—there was no binding spell with silver and slavery. But with food and pain ... they’d obey.
Dusk had fallen, and the moon would soon rise, normally sending the beasts into a frenzy. The tranquilizer would control them until the night of the full moon ... then he’d let them free. Free to hunt and kill, once he sent them in the right direction.
His second in command jogged up, red hair framing a stark white face with amethyst eyes. No wonder people saw the Kurjans as monsters. They were. Of course, Kalin could almost pass for human if he applied facial makeup and wore contacts over his odd green eyes. His black hair was tipped with red—the opposite to most Kurjans—and was easily altered. Even his skin was just pale, not the frightening white paste color of others. “What?”
“The sedative is working. They traveled nearly a hundred miles today without mishap, sir.” Milton flashed sharp yellowed fangs. “I’ll miss Seattle. The weather agreed with me.”
Kalin returned the grin. “Someday we won’t fear the sun. My uncle Erik is closer than ever to creating a cure.” Erik was actually Kalin’s second cousin, but the term
uncle
brought a closeness to Kalin’s ascent to the throne that he liked. Erik, a brilliant scientist, had created Virus-27, and he’d create an inoculation against the sun someday. “Think of the women in bikinis we’ll someday hunt.”
Milton threw back his head and laughed. “Yes, sir.”
The acknowledgment of seniority had Kalin’s chest swelling. Milton was at least five hundred years old, yet Kalin, in his midtwenties, led all troops. His entire life had been filled with fighting, killing, and planning. Someday, when he killed Erik’s brother, Franco, he’d lead all Kurjans. For now, Franco ruled from a remote area of Nova Scotia, leaving the military troops to Kalin.
He gave a curt nod to Milton, irritation sweeping that he had to look up. He’d only reached a height of six feet, six inches tall, which was short. For a Kurjan. He’d still top or meet eye-to-eye with most vampires and shifters.
The breeze picked up, scattering pine needles across his boots. The moon tipped over the far mountains, brightening the scene.
As one, the beasts stopped eating and stilled. Snouts switching, they closed their eyes and lifted their heads. Bliss crossed their furry features. A melodic keening came from them collectively as they worshipped, the sound reminiscent of whale song.
A chill swept across Kalin’s neck. Creepy. Every night the same routine. He cleared his throat. “How would you boys like a treat tonight?”
Slowly, languidly, they lowered their heads, opening their yellow eyes. The tallest one stood and shook out his dark coat. He’d taken to standing on two feet, a position most werewolves who’d survived the virus more than seven or eight years preferred. Somewhere, somehow, he’d become the unofficial leader of the group. Kalin had dubbed him Jack. The monster did have a hobby much like Jack the Ripper’s.
Speaking of which ... “Why don’t you release our friend?”
Milton nodded, jogging over to a horse trailer and jumping inside. Chains rattled, and he yanked a vampire out. Well, what used to be a vampire. The man stumbled, his gaunt body swimming in the dirty, shredded clothing.
Kalin rubbed his chin. “I think I’m about done with you.” Had been for about three months, actually. But torture was so much fun.
A desperate hope lit the vamp’s metallic purple eyes. “I’ve told you everything I know about the Kayrs family.”
Which had been just about enough to determine their current location. “You’re a lowly soldier from a different country. You don’t know the Kayrs family.” But his information had checked out.
“I knew enough.” He coughed out the words, his throat no doubt dry.
How long had it been since Kalin allowed him food? He shrugged. No matter. “Give him to Jack.”
The vampire’s eyes widened in his thin face. Bruises still mottled his white skin from the beating the day before. “No.” Bruised knuckles grabbed at his chains, yanking away from Milton.
“Yes.” Kalin took two steps, wrapping his hand around the vamp’s throat. “Catch, Jack.” He lifted the prisoner, throwing him one-handed across the clearing.
The vamp landed with a hard thump, denting the dry earth.
The animals leapt for a fresh kill.
His high-pitched scream pierced the peaceful night. Growls and yelps mingled with cries of pain as the beasts ripped limbs from the body ... digging in with teeth sharp enough to score granite.
Milton cleared his throat. “Do you really think they’ll be able to kill the vampire soldiers?”
Kalin nodded. “Sure. They’ll kill a few. The Realm forces are weak ... seriously depleted from the last ten years of war. As depleted as our troops, and they don’t have werewolf soldiers fighting their front line like we do. Plus, I just need the vampires busy so I can finally kill Talen Kayrs.”
The bastard had killed Kalin’s father a decade ago because of a woman. Kalin shook his head. “Such a waste. Two powerful men fighting over a female.” Rumor had it the female had given birth to Talen’s son a few years back. Kalin should take out the son, too.
He focused on the feeding frenzy.
Blood.
The scent permeated the fresh air, elongating Kalin’s teeth. He inhaled deep. How the hell did the vamp have any blood left after all the beatings? Kalin’s stomach rumbled, hunger speeding his heart rate.
Male blood didn’t appeal to his palate ... how long had it been since he’d hunted a woman? Too long. Most women didn’t provide much challenge, though a shifter he’d found in Atlanta had fought like a warrior. Now, she had been an enjoyable kill. “I might leave you in charge for some time tonight.”
The skin around Milton’s mouth pinched. “Of course.” His voice held no inflection, yet disapproval had his chin lifting.
Too fucking bad. While no doubt Franco had hoped Kalin would give up his nighttime hobby as he aged ... he hadn’t. There had been a moment a decade ago when he’d faced doorways into different futures; he’d chosen one. With a fresh kill of a human girl he’d actually liked. “If you tell my uncle, I’ll stake you to the ground an hour before sunrise.” There was no question Milton reported back to Franco. They were morons if they thought he remained unaware of such an allegiance.
“Of course.” Milton frowned, his gaze on the pile of werewolves. “I would appreciate if you didn’t take my son with you this time.”
Milton’s eighteen-year-old son had an even greater thirst to kill than Kalin. “Roy is a natural.” The kid needed training in the thrill of the hunt ... not just the easy kill. Where was the finesse in just killing a woman? The fear—the fight—the futility at the ending. Now those moments created a worthy pursuit.
There was a time years ago when Kalin had studied death, philosophy, and fate. Anything to harness the urges that rode him so hard.
After much time, he concluded his animalistic nature required the hunt. The pursuit of other beings. Well, women. And it didn’t take a psychologist to understand his anger at the mother who’d abandoned him in death. She’d deserted him on purpose because she couldn’t handle being a mate to his father.
Most Kurjan mates didn’t last long.
So Kalin’s need to hunt worthy women and take them down probably had some logic behind it. Not that he truly cared. The pursuit was what mattered.
A pursuit worthy of a predator, not a lowly animal like the werewolves. Of course, the original goal of Virus-27 had had nothing to do with turning shifters into werewolves. The first stroke of the virus was to impact human vampire mates. Mates were special and far between. The new class of werewolves was an unexpected side benefit of the bug.
Wait—what was this?
Jack shoved away from the pack and rose to his full height, finishing swallowing the vampire’s cranium with a loud gulp. Blood stained his teeth, matting his fur a motley red. His eyes glowed an eerie jaundiced yellow in the waning light.
Kalin settled his stance. “We’re going to need the electric prods.”
As one, the devouring beasts stood, turning to face him, death in their eyes.
All former shifters, all former soldiers, they could fight better than any other wild animal. But animals they were ... and they needed a master.
A young Kurjan soldier hustled up, handing them both tweaked prods. The altered devices emitted enough electricity to shock a werewolf into unconsciousness. Kalin leaned on his, smiling when Jack eyed the weapon. “Don’t worry, my friend. You’ll kill soon. All you want.”
Jack lifted his feral gaze to meet Kalin’s directly.
He swept a large hairy hand out, a guttural snort coming from down deep. As one, the remaining werewolves stood down, heads bowed.
Kalin eyed the monster. Very interesting. “I’m the master here, Jack.”
The beast smiled.