Hunted (Dark Protectors) (14 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Zanetti

BOOK: Hunted (Dark Protectors)
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“We’ll send our best troops. I’ll even go if you want. You need to stay here.”
“You’re not listening to me.” Moira fought the urge to burn Conn again.
He studied her face, his gaze hard. “I’m listening. I’m just not agreeing. Deal with it.” His cell phone buzzed, and he flipped the screen open to read. With a raised eyebrow, he closed the device, tucking the cell in his pocket.
Moira eyed the door. “I need to get home and assist the council, Conn.” If she had to burn him to a cinder, she would.
He shut his eyes for a brief second before opening them, his jaw setting. “You’re not going anywhere, Moira. The text message was from Dage. Your aunt just requested assistance from the Realm in protecting you.” Raw determination hardened his jaw. “This is a good thing. Either way, you’re staying here until I deal with this threat.”
She took a step away. Her aunt wanted her to remain with the Kayrs family in case the Nine withdrew—so she was in place to betray them. Nobody had the right to tell her to stay. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Anger returned so fast her breath caught. “More important, who the hell do you think I am?”
His shoulders went back. “You’re my mate.”
The freaking vampire truly didn’t understand her. “So what? I have a job to do.”
Triumph glittered in his eyes. “I understand. The leader of the council, your boss, ordered you to stay here until we figure out what’s going on.”
“No.” Her voice shook she was so furious. “My aunt ordered The Seventh to stay here in a blanket of safety.” Or as a Trojan horse. “I’m an enforcer.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Either way, you work for the Nine, Moira.”
The man was correct. She gave one short nod. “I quit. Now get out of my way so I can fly to Ireland and tell Viv that in person. My choice is to go forward on my own.” Being an enforcer had fit her on all fronts. She’d miss her job, but no way would she let anyone dictate her life. Destiny had made her the seventh sister of the seventh sister, which gave her powers beyond those shared by the Nine. She hadn’t even begun to tap into the energy she could harness.
“Good. We’ll e-mail your letter of resignation.” Conn folded his arms.
Her jaw ached as she clenched her teeth together. “I don’t answer to you any more than the council, Conn. Get the fuck out of my way.”
His eyes sparked. “Do you really think I’m going to let you put yourself in a danger the Nine can’t even quantify?”
“Think you can stop me?” She summoned her own energy, gasping at the heat through her lungs. A ball of energy began to form above her left palm.
Faster than she’d have imagined possible, Conn shot forward and lifted her by the elbows, laying her down on an empty table. Her shoulders hit with a dull thunk. Hovering over her, he leaned down, his breath heated against her lips. “We already played that game, Dailtín. I’d rather not go there again.”
Her body flushed hot with desire while her mind sparked with fury. She gave a muffled shriek, levering her legs to kick him solidly in the stomach. He huffed an irritated “
oof,
” but didn’t move, a light of male intent filling his eyes along with a translucent green she’d never seen.
Determination filled Moira. He wanted to play, did he? Scissoring her legs, she clasped his chest, twisting sideways and throwing him to the floor. He landed with a snarl.
Leaping, she dropped onto his stomach, angling one knee toward his balls and an elbow against his jugular. A keyboard bounced off the table, landing next to him.
He smiled.
She stilled.
Her eyes widened. Instinct forced her to press harder against his neck.
He flung a hand under her knee while grabbing her arm. Smooth reflexes had him lifting her away. “Whoever taught you to fight should be shot.” Her ass hit the floor. Seconds later he covered her head to toe.
The enforcers had taught her. “I’m a good fighter, Conn.” The heat of his body contrasted with the chill of the wooden floor in a way that sped up her heartbeat. Her body urged her to wrap her legs around his waist, but pure stubbornness had her slapping both palms against his ears.
He huffed out air, grabbing her wrists and extending them above her head. “You are such a brat.” He settled into her. “As a fighter, you’re fast and strike well. The second you pause, you’d better hold a weapon in your hand.”
Her nipples pebbled against his chest. “You’re right.” When strength came into play, she didn’t stand a chance with someone his size. Energy crackled along her arms. “I do hold a weapon.”
“Excellent.” He pressed his hardened groin against her.
She fought the need to rub along his length. “Get off me.”
“Why would I do that?” His free hand roamed down the side of her body to clasp her ass and tug her into male hardness. “This is where I like you.”
Forget subtlety or suggestion. The man always said just what he wanted. “Too bad.”
His dark eyebrows shot up. “Bet I could change your mind.”
The heat filling her pores guaranteed he could. Her body clamored for his. The branding on her hip pounded with painful need. But the situation called for them to come to some sort of agreement. “I’m not the person you envision for your mate, Conn. I’m an enforcer.”
“As such, you have your orders.” He scowled. “Sometimes our jobs require more of us than they should.” His hand tightened on her butt. A rock-hard erection pressed against her flesh, and she fought a whimper. “Believe me, Moira. I understand how frustrating it is to be stuck underground in safety when there’s a fight going on. I understand the need to be at the front and protect those you love.”
He said love. Of course, he was talking about his brothers, but still her heart jumped. “You do a good job protecting your family. Keep doing so, but I need to go.”
“Just what do you think you are?” His gaze dropped to her mouth, which actually tingled in response.
“A mate.”
“That’s family, darlin’. Like it or not.” He wet his lips, and she fought a groan. “Our world starts right here. You and me. Everything else spirals out ... my people, your people, friends, and enemies.”
“You make it sound so simple.” She took a deep breath. “What if it came down to your king or me? Say you had to choose, and only one of us would survive?”
“I’m choosing not to engage in silly riddles, Moira. We chart our own destinies, and I’ll keep my choices from narrowing to you or my king. You should know that.” He partially lifted her off the floor, sliding her along his length.
Her nipples pebbled. Arrogance and faith in his own abilities made up the vampire. She appreciated the qualities, though they infuriated her at the same time. “I hope you’re right.”
They probably shouldn’t be rolling around on the floor of the public computer room. Anyone might walk inside.
Something vibrated in his pocket against her, and she jumped in surprise. Conn chuckled, releasing her wrists to yank out the cell phone and press it to his cheek. “I’m busy.” His entire body stiffened as he listened. “I’ll be right there.” Rolling to his feet, he tugged Moira up.
Gentle fingers brushed curls off her face. He leaned in with a hard kiss. “The demons attacked a clan of feline shifters in Alaska, taking hostages. They’re members of the Realm and I need to go.”
“Let me come.” She’d never fought with demons. Magic should help.
“No.” Conn stepped back. “I gave my word to your aunt to keep you safe, darlin’. You’re a lot like Dage. He hates the mantle of his position, too.”
With two long strides, Conn opened the door. “Soldiers will be here in a minute to take you to headquarters. If we’re raiding, our mates are underground. You might as well explore. You’re going to be there a while.”
Then, he was gone.
Chapter 17
 
J
anie clutched her teddy bear closer to her chest, her eyes drooping. Mr. Mullet wasn’t doing a good job of keeping her awake. They were snuggled underground again ... where the earth sometimes whispered to her. Pony pictures drawed by Uncle Dage covered her bedroom walls, and a pretty dollhouse Uncle Conn had made sat in the corner. Her mama whistled in the other room, sewing socks for the baby ... but they looked more like orange holders. She really couldn’t sew.
Janie needed to stay awake until her daddy came home ... he and her uncles had hurried off to fight again, and she had a bad feeling. The kind of feeling she got after eating too much cotton candy and too many hotdogs.
Soon enough she found herself wandering along a wide golf course just like the one a pony had played on during her favorite television show last week. With a shrug, she gave into the dream. Might as well make the grass purple, and the trees made of licorice. Yum. Even the air smelled yummy.
Where in the world was Zane? Her best friend, her only friend since she left home, they met in dreams. When they both slept. She searched the area ... then found him. Her laughter echoed across the distance, where he stood in a big sand trap made of ... what was that? Oh no. Cotton candy.
He smiled, jumping out of the pink mess. But his smile didn’t seem right. His pretty green eyes didn’t smile, too.
She ran, meeting him near a shiny flag blowing in the wind. “What’s wrong?”
He lifted a dark eyebrow like her daddy did. Then he dropped to sit so she wouldn’t have to look up. Zane turned eleven a while ago ... and grew way taller than her. It wasn’t fun being only five years old. She sat next to him, biting her lip. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to move.” He rubbed his jaw, sadness coming off him.
“Oh.” She patted his big hand on the purple grass. “I just moved, too. You might like your new home.”
“No.” He shook his head, sending long dark hair flying. “My father, we don’t know where he is. His unit has disappeared.”
Janie’s chest ached. Zane’s daddy worked as a soldier with the vampires, fighting against the bad Kurjans. “Maybe they’re hiding out to catch all of the bad guys. Your daddy will be home soon, Zane.” Please let Zane’s daddy be all right. She remembered how scary it was living without a daddy ... she didn’t have one until Talen showed up. Now she had him. The world was safer with him.
“I hope so.” Zane’s smile seemed lopsided. “Until he returns, we’re going to live with my mother’s people. Her family.”
Janie didn’t ask where his mama’s family lived. They’d agreed a long time ago not to tell. Well, Zane said they needed to keep secrets, just in case. So she didn’t ask. “Do you like her family?”
He shrugged. “They train as hard as my people, so that’ll be good. I’ll keep training.”
Her head ached. Sometimes she saw the future, but she didn’t get to choose when. Even stuff she didn’t understand had rules. She didn’t like rules. “Do you have to move far away?” Okay. She really wondered where Zane lived.
He shook his head. “How is Mr. Mullet?”
She’d described her bear, a present from Aunt Emma, to him once, but had never been able to bring Mr. Mullet into a dream. “He’s good. I asked him to keep me awake, but he didn’t.” She eyed the tops of the trees turning a sunny yellow. “I’m not sure why I can’t bring him into the dream. Honest, I don’t think he wants to come.” She’d brought other goodies to show Zane, and she always wore the horseshoe necklace he’d given her for her last birthday.
“Perhaps bears don’t like dreams.”
“Yeah.” She’d been wondering about something. “I saw a movie last week with vampires as the bad guys.”
He frowned. “A scary movie?”
“Kind of.” She had a television in her room and couldn’t sleep that night. Her mama didn’t know she’d watched it. “They had big fangs and drank blood.”
“Oh.” Zane rubbed his hands on his jeans.
“Do you have fangs?”
“Yes. Got them last year.” He opened his mouth and his side teeth lowered down. Sharp and white, they could cause a big owie.
“Do they hurt?” She wanted to touch one, but didn’t think Zane would like her fingers in his mouth.
“No.” The teeth went back into his mouth. “Though it took a while to get used to them. I kept cutting my lip.” He grinned.
Janie snorted. “That’s funny. But you drink blood, right?” Yuck.
He shrugged. “Well, humans need blood when they get hurt, and you give them that with needles. So yeah, when we are injured and need blood, we just get it faster because we can use our fangs.”
“In the movie, the vampires needed blood to live ’cause they couldn’t make their own. So they fed on people.”
“Don’t believe movies, Janie. We make our own blood, as do you. Though, our blood will heal a human because of the extra stuff in it.” Zane stood, holding down a hand to help her up. “I need to go right now, and it may be a while until I have a chance to fully sleep and dream. For some reason, it takes me longer to get into this world than it does you.”
Janie pushed her lip out. “You’ll be back, right?”
“I will. For now, my brothers need help, and my mother is worried. I need to take care of them.”
Janie nodded, standing and squeezing his hand. “You’re my best friend, Zane. Forever.” In fact, someday they were going to save the world. Probably. Well, if things went the right way in life.
“You’re my best friend too, Janie Belle.” He’d given her the name the first time they met, saying “Janet Isabella” sounded too grown up for his new buddy. “No matter what happens, remember that, okay?” He blocked out the dream sun, and she fought a shiver. It was good they were on the same side.
“I’ll remember.” She let him go, watching him walk down the purple grass until disappearing.
A tickle made her neck itch. She sighed. It had been at least six months since Kalin tried to get into her dreams. Kalin was a Kurjan, a bad boy, and someday he and Zane were gonna fight. She wanted them all to be friends. A nice girl would try hard to be Kalin’s friend.
She let him inside her dream.
He’d gotten even taller. She tilted her head, letting him walk across the grass toward her. The Kurjans had pasty white skin, either purple or red eyes, and reddish or black-red hair. But Kalin’s eyes were green, his skin not totally pasty, and his hair black with red tips. Usually.
She waited until he got closer. “What happened to your hair?” It was all black with no red. It matched his lips and ... yep. His fingernails. “You look like one of those scary people on the grownup channel.”
He smiled, flashing sharp teeth. “Yeah. I dyed my hair.” As he came closer, the smell of salty ocean came with him. Weird that she never smelled Zane in a dream. He probably smelled like something really good.
Kalin shrugged. “Yeah. It’s pissing my people off.”
“Huh.” Janie shuffled her feet. “You said
pissing
.” Bad boys said bad words. Though for some reason, the black lipstick made him seem less scary than last time.
“Um. Sorry.” He dropped right where Zane had sat. “How are things?”
She frowned, sitting a small distance away. “Okay. How are you?”
He twirled a pocketknife in his hands. “Confused. I mean, I’ve always accepted my destiny—to rule the Kurjans, then the world. But ... I don’t know.” He flicked the blade open. “Everyone is afraid of me, and it’s not like I can talk to anyone.”
Boy teenagers were weird. Even Kurjan ones. He was what, fifteen now? “You can talk to me.”
“Thank you.” He closed the blade, shoving it in the pants pocket of his skinny black jeans. Just like the teenagers wore on television. “I figured you’re the only one I can talk to. Thanks for letting me in the dream.”
“Do you wanna be friends?” If they became friends, then Kalin and Zane would be friends, and they would end the war.
Kalin shrugged. “I don’t know. Friends are new to me.”
Janie sat up straighter. “You found a friend, Kalin?” This might be so good. If Kalin made a friend, he’d want more. She’d had lots of friends in preschool before they moved. It was fun having lots of friends. Some would want to play games; others would dress up with her in princess costumes. Now she was a real princess. But she missed her friends.
A slight pink covered Kalin’s face. “I think so. I mean, she’s kind of a friend.”
Oh. Kalin found a girlfriend. Janie fought the urge to sing about Kalin in a tree. He wouldn’t like that. “What’s her name?”
“Peggy.” Kalin grabbed a pebble off the green, throwing it into the sand trap. “She’s human.”
“You should give her flowers.” Janie had watched a TV show last week where the boy picked daisies and gave them to a girl with a broken leg. “Or candy.”
Kalin ran his palm along the short, springy grass. “I guess. I mean, I probably should clear the field first. We’ve been talking on the phone a lot. She likes the Goth look, but she has these other friends, guys ... and I was thinking. . . ”
Janie gasped. “You can’t kill them, Kalin. Not if you want Peggy to like you.”
He glanced up, his green eyes swirling with red sparks. “Sure I can. I mean, if you love someone, you want them to really know you, right?”
“Well, yeah.” Janie frowned. “But you’ve never killed anyone yet, right? So you don’t need to start.”
He blinked. Twice. “No. I haven’t killed, but I will. We are at war, Janie. I’m a soldier.” He rubbed his chin, exactly like Zane had done. Must be a boy thing. “She thinks I’m this kind of dangerous guy she met at the movies one night. She has no idea who I am.”
“You can be who you want. Be someone she’ll like.” Be someone who wants to end the war. For the first real time, Janie figured they had a chance to fix everything. “Sometimes it’s what we mean to do that matters.” She sighed.
How could she put this in boy words? “When I went to preschool, a girl named Melanie brung a cool pencil—blue with pink dots. I super-duper wanted it. She left it on the table one day, and I thought about taking it.” Janie’s face got hot. She probably shouldn’t tell Kalin this. “But I didn’t ... and I was happy I didn’t. I could’ve and nobody would’ve caught me, but stealing is bad. I was good.”
Kalin frowned. “So you’re saying even though I can end these guys, if I choose to not to do that, I’ve become a better person?”
“Sure, and then you’d prove you’re a better person. So next time the decision will be easier.” Hopefully. This teenage stuff confused her. “You want Peggy to know the real you.”
“Interesting.”
“So, uh, do you have fangs?” She wondered if his were like Zane’s.
Kalin tilted his head to the side and opened his mouth. His fangs shot out, sharp and clean.
“Do you drink blood?” The idea still seemed icky.
“Yes.” His teeth went back to normal. “Though only if I’m hurt.”
She’d gotten a paper cut last week and tasted the blood. But she didn’t like it. “What does blood taste like to you?”
He shrugged. “Depends on whose blood I’m drinking. If someone eats a bunch of candy, their blood is sweeter. Everyone’s different.”
“Oh.” She bet her mama’s blood tasted like chocolate.
Kalin stood, reaching a hand to help Janie up.
She took his offer and slid her hand into his. It was big like Zane’s, but not as warm. “Thanks.”
She let go once on her feet.
Kalin smiled. “Any time. Thanks for listening, Janie.” He turned to stroll off the green without a backward glance.
 
Kalin woke himself from the dream with a start, wondering if the little genius was on to something. Why in the world had he lied to her? Of course he’d killed. Many times, usually women he hunted. For some reason, he hadn’t wanted Janie to know. He stretched in the bed.
Cold. Even with heaters, a chill always wound through his room built into the rocks underground. Probably because the ocean fronted the rock cliffs. So many fathoms down it became freezing. “Lights.” They flicked on, and he rolled from the bed, missing the bright colors and warmth of Janie’s dream world.
How bizarre that his future enemy was his only friend.
His feet curled into a thick Persian rug he’d stolen from a woman he’d killed in Kansas. She’d been a redhead who owned an antique store. He liked to take a gift, something to help him remember his women. Usually he took smaller trinkets, but the richness of the rug called to him. He’d had to lug it to the private plane he had waiting. Franco didn’t care if Kalin killed, just insisted he do so away from headquarters, so Kalin always had a plane waiting.
He shrugged, his gaze landing on pictures scattered across the rock wall. “Hello, Peggy.”
The stunning teenager filled every photograph in different scenes, in different clothes. The night pictures he’d taken himself, plus a few during cloudy days when she’d hurried into school, unaware of his vigil. He’d hired a local delinquent to take pictures during the sunny days, since the sun would fry his skin from his body. Hundreds of pictures. Of course, Kalin had broken the moron’s neck after delivery. He certainly didn’t want Peggy to think he was stalking her. He merely wanted pictures.

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