Claimed

Chapter 12

Emma stepped out of the decontamination shower attached to Lab Four, dried off and entered the next chamber, hitting the button and shutting her eyes as the ultraviolet light moved over her skin. Any possible virus that clung to her would be killed. Shivering, she dodged into the next room and slid into a black jumpsuit, grabbing a clip off the counter to pin up her wet hair. She grabbed socks out of a cubby, yanked them on, then stepped into her tennis shoes, leaning over to stare into a glass plate next to the door. “Emma42249.”

The door slid open.

She trudged down the hallway into another bright lab, not surprised to see a young man bent over the Transmission Electron Aberration-Corrected microscope. He sat alone in the chilled lab, row after row of test tubes lined up on the shelf before him. Machines whirred on either side of the room, calculating data. “Devon. Even Einstein took a break now and then.” She loped over to a file cabinet to find a copy of Rachel’s dissertation on proteins binding to cancer cells. They’d need to get Rachel’s help soon, and there’s no way the brilliant scientist would be fooled by the protocols set in place by Kane. She’d know they weren’t studying cancer within minutes of reading the data—which is why Emma was currently working with doctoral students like Devon. He was highly intelligent, yet lacked the experience needed to see through the charade.

Devon straightened and pushed back his unruly brown hair, swiveling on his stool to flash a wide grin. “If Einstein had worked harder, maybe we’d have a better understanding of time travel right now.”

Bleach and lemon cleanser tickled her nose. “Maybe. Or maybe he would’ve burned out and not discovered several theories that we do understand.”

“Well, it’s all relative,” Devon snorted.

Man she loved lab geeks. Emma laughed, shaking her head, shutting the file cabinet and heading for the door.

Devon cleared his throat. “Dr. Paulsen? Is there any chance we’ll be able to see the other labs?”

Unease swirled in Emma’s stomach even as she schooled her face and paused to face him. She hated lying to her coworkers. “I don’t think so, Devon. You know how delicate these governmental experiments can be.” What a load of crap. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at herself.

“I know. And I know the dangers of a secured lab—so many pathogens. But I can’t help but wonder ...” He tugged a loose thread on his worn jeans.

“I know.” Curiosity was a scientist’s greatest asset. “I hope you know how much you are appreciated.” He’d make an incredible geneticist someday.

He shrugged. “Thanks. I couldn’t do half this work without Sandy.” He blushed, his usually pale cheeks turning a bright pink.

Lab romances. Emma smiled again. “You’re all invaluable. I’ll see you tomorrow.” At his nod, she hurried out of the room and down the hallway, using voice, hand, and eye recognition to get through three areas of security. She finally reached the private lab where the prophet perched on an examination table. Waiting. The scent of rubbing alcohol mixed with strawberries filled the large lab. Emma forced a smile, and pushed down her concern. “You’ve had quite the day. Dage said you were unconscious for most of the plane ride here.”

Lily nodded, wiping a hand across her pale forehead. “Yes. My results are ready?”

“Yes. The direct fluorescent antibody stain test revealed you’ve been infected with the virus. Probably the night of the ball.” A printer spit out the data she’d input in the vacuum sealed lab. Grabbing a chart, she made a quick notation. She’d need to compare these notes with Rachel’s before doing more tests. The next test would measure the strength of the protein binding the virus to the prophet’s chromosome. For some reason the prophet seemed more ill than Cara. Maybe the baby or the pregnancy hormones slowed the virus down in Cara. But how much time did the prophet have then? A sudden thought occurred to Emma. “Um, do you mind if I check your marking?”

With a frown, Lily turned her head to the side. An intricate Celtic knot in deep blue decorated the nape of her neck.

“That’s beautiful,” Emma breathed.

Lily turned back around. “Thank you. The prophesy mark appeared the day I was chosen by the fates. Hurt like a knife wound.”

So far it was the only fact in the odd new world that Emma couldn’t explain through science. Could fate really play a part in all their lives? She shook her head. There had to be a rational explanation for the appearance of the knot. “Do the other prophets wear this mark?”

“Yes.” Lily smoothed her pale skirt over her legs.

Emma made another notation on the chart. One mystery at a time. “I meant your mark from your mate.” She fought a flush.

Lily grinned even white teeth. “Um, only the royal family gets, er ...”

“Branded?” Emma’s cheeks filled until the blush burned.

“Yes. Something about the Kayrs lineage.” Fathomless eyes sparkled fun for a moment. “Most vampires complete the sex act along with a good bite, thus mating for life.” She pointed to very light twin marks in her neck—bite marks.

A wave of sympathy swept through Emma. “Your mate was killed by the Kurjans?” Dage had mentioned the fact to her earlier.

“Yes.” Lily bit her lip. “We’d only been married for a couple of weeks—I barely knew the man.” She sighed. “Arranged marriage.”

“Ah. So, you, I mean haven’t ...” The barbaric custom of being tied to a dead spouse was unthinkable in today’s society.

“No. Mating allergy.” Lily sighed deep. “Though it’s not like a prophet, a spiritual leader, can just go sleeping around. Unfortunately.” She chuckled at the end before sobering. “You know, as part of my job, I often provide counsel.”

“Counsel?” Emma reached for a blood pressure cuff to wrap around Lily’s arm before pumping air.

“Yes. Take me as part nun, part psychologist, and part goodwill ambassador.” Humor tipped the prophet’s lips up.

“Okay.” Lily’s blood pressure numbers were good. Emma released the cuff and jotted down the information on the chart.

“Emma. Our people need a queen and our leader needs a mate. Both have embraced you.” Lily rubbed her arm. “And you know it.”

Emma snapped her head up. Warmth swirled around her heart and she ruthlessly pushed any sentiment down. “Fate does not get to dictate my life or future, regardless of a branding on my shoulder.”

Lily rolled her eyes in a very unprophet-like manner. “Fate schmate. Forget destiny. The man loves you.” She yanked the sleeve of her sweater down to cover the red flesh. “What you decide to do with such good fortune is up to you.”

“Fate schmate?” Emma bit her lip. “Love is dangerous. My mama stayed with a man who beat us—because she loved him.”

Lily’s eyes softened. “So make your own decision. Stay with a good man who’ll protect you because you love him.” She reached forward and grasped Emma’s arm. “I genuinely liked Miles. I may have been able to love him with passion someday.” She shrugged. “Maybe not with the fireworks lighting the air when you and Dage are near each other, but with something.”

Intrigued, Emma focused her gaze. “Fireworks?”

“Sure. I watched you at the ball. You’re head over heels for him, too.” Lily smiled even teeth in a wan face, dark circles standing at attention under her eyes. “I’d give anything for a chance at happiness like that. Instead of being tied to a legend who’s long gone.”

A chance at happiness? Emma had fought her entire life for what she wanted. First for survival, then for her career, now for what? She did love the man, no question. Had since she’d learned all about him in visions of his past. Death had lost to her before, maybe she could win again, and keep Dage. The marking on her shoulder began to burn in agreement. She shook her head, focusing back on the prophet. “You’re not tied to a legend anymore, Lily.”

Lily frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about this, but the virus takes the individual mating marker away.” The marks in Lily’s neck would probably fade away.

Lily lifted an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“Meaning you’re free to, ah, well, you know.” Emma eyed Lily’s demure sweater atop yet another long, rustling skirt. The woman still dressed as if a lady from the eighteen hundreds and yet the style fit her.

“I can have sex?” Lily’s eyes opened wide before she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Are you sure?”

Emma shrugged. “As sure as I can be about this virus right now. We’re still conducting tests.”

Lily’s gaze shot to the door and her face filled with color when Caleb stalked inside. “Oh my.”

He approached the bed, his thick hair tied at the nape, his long strides carrying him across the room in seconds. “So a prophet was infected at the Realm colloquium? Seriously?” Anger rode every word.

“Yes.” Emma said. The man remained as pissed as he was earlier when he’d carried the prophet inside the lab. Did the guy ever loosen up?

“She’s not mated anymore?” Caleb raised an eyebrow, his multi-colored gaze hard on Lily.

“That’s none of your business.” Lily lifted her chin.

“Is the tramp stamp gone?” he growled back.

Lily sucked in a breath, her eyes going wide. “You’re calling the mark of the prophecy a tramp stamp? Infidel!”

He reached for her, yanking her head to the side. “I asked you a question, woman.” He hissed out a breath at the deep marking. “You shouldn’t be a prophet any longer.”

Lily tossed her head away and shoved at Caleb’s chest. “Bite me, Caleb.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Apparently Lady Lily has entered this century. You use words like that, milady, and you’ll get what you’re asking for.”

Emma reached for the phone. “Caleb, leave or I’m calling the guards.” Either her patient needed to stay calm, or these two needed to find a freakin’ room. The sexual tension in the lab sped up her own heart.

Need help? A deep voice whispered throughout her head. She instantly threw shields into place. When had they fallen? Her heart shot from a jog to a full-out gallop.

A sigh echoed from the doorway where Dage stood leaning against the side. “Not nice, love. Not nice at all.”

“Stay out of my head,” Emma hissed, her gaze raking him from head to toe. She told herself he didn’t look wonderful in black slacks, a silver silk shirt, and thick boots. Liar.

His gaze sharpened. “I’ve given you until tomorrow morning. Lower those shields or I’ll shred them.”

Anger began to boil like acid in her stomach. She lifted her chin. “We’ll see about that, King.” He may be powerful, but they’d mated. His powers belonged to her now. “Please take Caleb out of here.” If she decided to make a go of this, the vampire had some things to learn.

Dage glared at his friend and then at his woman. Both needed to be dealt with and soon. “Caleb? Talen’s waiting to discuss strategy with you. Let’s go.” He’d handle his mate later.

Caleb gave a low growl and followed him from the room.

Dage didn’t look back, choosing instead to keep striding toward the conference room. “Stop being an asshole.”

“Me, an asshole? You just threatened brain damage on your own mate,” Caleb shot back.

Dage rolled his eyes, stopping to gesture his friend inside the room. “She’s got the strongest brain you could imagine. Stubborn woman.”

Caleb grinned. “Your perfect match.”

Damn straight. The little blue eyed scientist would admit it before the week was out. Dage was done with this crap. He needed his home life settled so he could concentrate on fixing the rest of the fucking world.

Talen glanced up from his seat at the table, the swirling colors of his golden eyes giving Dage pause. He’d forgotten. Talen had been so calm lately, usually in front of either Cara or Janie. The women were absent, and the vampire was pissed.

“Nice of you two to join me.” Talen nodded to chairs. “A traitor is hiding in our safe little world.”

Dage dropped into a chair. “Yes.”

The table jumped when Talen pounded a fist into it. “We’re doing a piss-poor job of protecting our women, now aren’t we?”

“Yes.” Much better for Dage to let Talen get this out of his system. Then that clear, rational, strategic mind would create a plan.

The gold fled Talen’s eyes. “Are you envisioning anything?”

“No.” Dage hadn’t seen any of this coming. “Fate is being an asshole about visions. I see nothing right now.” While Emma was having visions, they weren’t focused on Talen’s family, at least not yet. There was no way to control the visions of the future.

Caleb grabbed a chair and sat. “That’s because nothing’s set right now. Too much jockeying is going on.” He blew out a breath. “I can’t believe a prophet was infected at the Realm ball.”

Anger ricocheted through Dage. He couldn’t believe it either. “No. I failed to protect her.”

“Nay, that’s not what I meant.” Caleb raised an eyebrow. “I meant, why at the ball? Was she unreachable before that? Did they want to show you how close they could get? Or was it the first opportunity?”

Talen nudged some papers their way. “Here’s Lily’s schedule for the last six months. If I were targeting her, I’d have chosen at least five easier times to infect her than at the colloquium.” He grabbed a pencil and snapped the utensil in two. “Cara and Katie have been under wraps. It was the first opportunity to reach them.”

Understanding dawned on Dage. “So it was the first opportunity to infect all three of them.”

“Yes.” Talen threw the pencil pieces toward a trash can.

Caleb cleared his throat. “I’m assuming there were other mates and shifters at the ball?”

“Yes,” Talen said.

“Then it’s safe to conclude those three women were specific targets.”

“No,” Dage said. “Cara and Katie drank herbal tea while most everyone else drank champagne or hard liquor. The tea ordered for Cara was spiked. Katie just happened to order that.”

“Lily loves herbal tea,” Caleb noted.

“Yes.” Talen grabbed a fountain pen. “She confirmed she drank the tea. Why Cara though?”

Dage shrugged. “Revenge for Lorcan’s death?” The Kurjan leader had deserved death after kidnapping Cara. “Or because of the baby?”

Talen growled low, danger all but sliding across his face. “I’ve asked if anyone else ordered the tea, insinuating the herbs caused the food problems, and so far no one has replied in the positive.” The pen broke in two and he tossed it to the garbage. “Jase is tracking down the waiters from that night, and one is missing.”

“He’s dead,” Caleb noted without expression.

“More than likely,” Talen agreed. “We must find who he was working with from our end. My men are searching his apartment and going through his laptop.”

Talen’s cell buzzed and he lifted it to his ear. “Kayrs.” He sat to attention. “When? How bad? Great.” He snapped the phone shut and threw it across the room. The device hit the freshly painted wall and shattered into pieces. “Rachel Davis is dead.”

Shock stormed into Dage’s gut. “Emma’s friend, the geneticist? How?” Another woman he’d failed to protect.

Talen yanked the band out of his hair. “They’re calling it a botched robbery. Someone broke into her Paris hotel room last night and apparently she fought back, ending up with a broken neck.”

“Kurjans. They probably wanted to kidnap her.”

“More than likely.” Talen jumped to his feet to pace. “We knew of her and should’ve assumed they knew of her as well. I’m so tired of being three steps behind these bastards.”

“Me too.” Dage’s mind ran through likely scenarios. “Find out if she was working with anyone on her research. We won’t make the same mistake twice.”

The land line rang on the table and Talen exhaled, grabbing the handset and raising it to his ear. “What?” Metallic eyes rose to meet Dage’s gaze. “Yes. He’s right here.” Talen dropped back into his chair, an incredulous look flashing across his hard face. “Are you kidding me? No?” He slammed the phone down, breaking the handset in two pieces.

The lab wasn’t sturdy enough to withstand Talen’s current mood. Dage steeled himself. “Who was that?”

“Conn. The demon nation just declared war on the Realm. Happy fucking Tuesday.”