Claimed

Chapter 18

Emma tapped her foot against the tiled floor in the lab’s communication room while Kane typed furiously on a keyboard, having returned nearly an hour ago. The soldiers had of course reported Devon’s break-in to Kane the second he returned. Though she hadn’t said a word about her injury.

“Devon was just trying to help a coworker, Kane.” She brushed a curl off her face.

Kane shrugged. “I don’t care. He broke protocol and is lucky I just fired him.”

Temper swirled at the base of her skull. “Or what?”

Angry violet eyes met hers as Kane stopped typing. “Do you have any idea how many of our laws he broke in addition to breaching his contract? He’s lucky he’s still walking.”

“Speaking of which, why in the hell do you have lasers that knock people out?” Of course no one had told her about the security measures.

“For this very reason I designed them to recognize faces ... or attack.”

Emma took a deep breath. She needed Kane’s cooperation. “There’s really no reason to tell Dage—”

Kane halted her with his palm in the air facing her. “No way. Don’t even ask me to keep this from him.” He turned back to the keyboard.

Butthead. Speaking of the king, where the heck was he? She lowered her mental shields and sent out a call for Dage, careful to keep her injury away from her thoughts.

Hello love. Miss me? His deep voice filled her head.

Relief relaxed her shoulders. Yes. Is the fight over? This ability to communicate via thought was handy, and she wondered idly how the brain waves shifted into patterns to send out and receive messages. They’d have to conduct some tests when things slowed down.

Yes. We’re on the way home. We didn’t lose anyone but do have some casualties. I’ll fill you in when I return in a few minutes. Shields rose again.

Emma nodded and shifted her focus to the screen covering the entire north wall of the room. She’d worked all afternoon on combining werewolf and vampire blood with the right protein, which had shown promise in attacking the catalyst. But something still protected the twenty-seventh chromosome and maybe Moira had the key.

A woman took shape, thick red hair rioting in curls around a face carved from pure alabaster. No sun for that gal. Green eyes narrowed on Emma, and a slow grin tipped generous lips. “So you’re the king’s mate. I’m Moira.”

Emma gave a short nod. “Nice to meet you. Emma Paulsen here.” Conn’s mate was a beauty, no doubt about it.

Moira’s grin turned to a full smile. “You haven’t married Dage yet, then?” She rolled the rs like someone in a Celtic movie.

“No.” Not that he’d asked. “Did you marry Conn?”

The witch lost her smile. “No. Not going to, either.”

Kane’s muted, “We’ll see about that,” was ignored by both women.

Emma cleared her throat. “So, you’re probably wondering why we’re contacting you.”

Moira nodded. “Yes. I assume you need a witch for something.”

How in the hell could Emma explain it? “Are you aware of Virus-27?”

“Yes. Conn sent word that vampire mates were in danger.” Moira’s lips tightened into a firm line. “I can take care of myself, Emma.”

“I’m sure you can.” Emma smiled. “But, well, we thought you could help with a cure.”

“How?”

Emma shrugged. “I don’t know. My niece Janie gets visions, and she thinks you can help with the science.”

Moira tilted her head to the side. “I know about your niece. Some of our seers predicted her birth.”

The breath caught in Emma’s throat. Enough prophesying about a little girl. “Why?”

“Don’t know. Apparently she’s the key to the future—all our futures.” Moira gave a half shrug. “No pressure there, poor darlin’.”

No kidding. “I thought if we sent you all the data on the virus you might see a place to contribute.”

Moira smiled again. “You’re a scientist, right?”

“Geneticist.”

A dimple flirted in Moira’s flawless skin. “Ceart go leor. So you know any contribution I’d make would be in the form of magic?”

“Yes. I was marked by a vampire the other night, Moira. I’m willing to go on a bit of faith here.”

Moira chuckled. “Good point.” She stepped closer to the camera. “What makes you think magic was used to create this virus?”

Emma struggled for a moment. “I don’t.” She waited for the truth to piss off her new friend.

A genuine smile met her gaze. Moira gave a quick shake of her head. “Really? Ever study a virus like this?”

“No. But I’ve also never worried about a twenty-seventh chromosome.” The virus fit the victims.

“Ah.” Moira tilted her head to the side. “If magic is involved here, you’re looking for a rather powerful witch who cast the spell.”

“Like you?”

“Ba mhaith liom. Er, I mean, Yes.”

Emma’s mind calculated the new information. “If magic is somehow involved, how many people across the globe would have the necessary capability?”

“People?” Moira gave a nod to someone off camera. “You mean witches, my sister.”

Inhaling deeply, Emma sought her inner reason. “Witches. And we’re not sisters—neither of us married a Kayrs.”

Moira’s green eyes narrowed with a focus that could be felt across the globe. “There’s a rather strong theory that potential vampire mates are descendants of the fey people, cousins to my people.” She reached for a stack of papers. “Your information just came through—I’ll look it over and get back to you.”

Fey people? Unlikely. “You didn’t answer my question.” Would Moira help them?

Silence crackled across the space for a moment. “I have no idea how many people could pull something like this off.” Moira stepped closer to the screen, her gaze running over Emma’s form. “Exactly what do you think magic is, Emma?”

Uh, hocus pocus? “I don’t know. Something about being naked under the moon, goddesses, and pretty spells?”

Moira threw back her head and laughed. “Not quite. What do you know about quantum physics?”

An unwilling curiosity welled up in Emma. “Not much except that it’s a modern theory that explains the nature and behavior of energy and matter on the atomic and subatomic level.” She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve studied quantum physics?”

Moira smiled. “I have several doctorates, one in quantum physics, and I teach at the University of Dublin as well as at a school you’ve never heard of. On a subatomic level, the right application of energy is able to alter matter, right?”

“Possibly.” No one really knew. “So quantum theory explains magic?”

Moira shrugged. “What do you know about string theory?”

Emma coughed out a laugh. “String theory is a new theory that attempts to reconcile quantum physics with the general relativity theory.” In a nutshell.

“Right. And there are five different string theories that all agree on one fact: that there are dimensions in space and time and everything’s connected.” Moira took another step closer to the camera. “These theories are from your scientists, Emma. The experts believe in dimensions—and the possibility of moving throughout them.”

“So you’re saying magic can be explained by quantum physics and string theory?”

“Well, those theories plus about nine more your people haven’t figured out yet.” Moira grinned. “What’s important is that you believe. That’s it. Start believing.” She sighed, glancing at Kane and then back at Emma, her eyes darkening. “If you don’t mind my asking, where did the king mark you?”

Quite the personal question. But a valid one, considering the witch also had been branded by a Kayrs brother. “On the upper right shoulder,” Emma said, irritated. “You?”

“Front of my left hipbone.” Moira rolled her eyes. “Bloody inconvenient if I want to wear a bikini.”

Emma nodded in commiseration. “Yes. You’d think through the hundreds of years the Kayrs family could’ve devised a way to mate without branding anyone.”

Moira shook her head. “Oh, Emma. They don’t want another way. They like the marking.” Her tone turned cutting by the end of the sentence.

“Men.” Emma cleared her throat. She’d love to get a sample of Moira’s blood. “So you’re another immortal?”

Moira took a deep breath. “Well, mainly immortal. We can die from beheading and burning.” She glanced off camera and then focused back on Emma. “I sent Kane a list of supplies you may need to counter a possible spell—have them ready. I’ll read over your information and then work on a spell to counter the virus. Until then, Slán go foil.”

The screen went black.

“Good-bye for now.” Emma repeated the one Gaelic phrase she knew. “Moira’s beautiful. I can understand Conn’s attraction.” Pure spirit shone through those stunning eyes—the witch wouldn’t go down easy. She wondered just how strong the greatest soldier claimed by the Realm would need to be if he thought to take Moira out of Ireland.

Kane rubbed a hand over his chin. “Yeah. You ever get the feeling all hell is about to break loose?”

Emma forced a grin. “In the last week I’ve been kidnapped by a monstrous vampire race, my sister has been knocked up by a vampire prince and I’ve been branded by a king, who also bites. I’ve discovered shifters and demons exist, and the niece I’ve protected since birth is somehow prophesized to do something important by these supernatural beings. I’m also seeking help from a century old witch who looks twenty.” She exhaled loudly. “Hell already has broken loose and shattered reality.”

Kane gathered papers and gestured her toward the door. “On that note, you might want to begin believing in magic. I think we’re going to need it.”

Once upon a time the same people who developed the scientific method also practiced magic. She’d have to keep her mind open to the idea of combining the two again. Where in the heck were her old college physics textbooks? In storage with the rest of her belongings, probably. She stepped into the hall and ran smack into Conn still in his combat gear, a rough purple bruise spread across his left cheekbone.

He righted her with gentle hands near the top of her biceps. His gaze met Kane’s. “Prophet Guiles wasn’t there. We found Prophet Milner and he’s being seen to by the doctors right now—he seems fine to me.”

“Any casualties?” Kane asked.

Conn nodded. “All being taken care of.” He dropped his gaze to Emma. “You talked to Moira?” His eyes swirled a pure emerald, much darker than that of his mate.

Smoke and the odd scent of gun powder clung to the air around Conn. Emma stepped back and raised an eyebrow. “Just now. How did you know?”

The soldier gave a short shrug. “I always know where she is and what she’s doing. Though I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything.” His smile would’ve melted a harder heart than Emma’s. He turned toward his brother. “Is my mate in danger?”

“Yes.”

“Because she’s a mate?” Conn released Emma and stepped back.

Kane tapped his file against his leg. “Yes. Also, if magic helped create the virus, she’s one of the few witches alive powerful enough to counteract it.”

The smile sliding across Conn’s broad face made Emma nervous and she couldn’t help but intervene. “If Moira is that powerful, I’m sure she can handle any danger. Right?”

Conn’s shoulders went back even further. “Wrong.” He gave a short nod to his brother, pivoting to stride down the hall. “We find Prophet Guiles, and then I take Ireland,” he called back.

Emma slapped her hands on her hips, rounding on Kane. “You’re no help.”

Humor filled his lavender eyes. “Because I agree with my brother?”

Damn it. How could they all be so dense? She tilted her head to the side. “I can’t wait to meet your mate, Kane.”

Kane shrugged. “Fate will plan well. My mate will be a logical woman, probably a scientist, who understands the rationale here. I’m not concerned.”

Laughter bubbled up and Emma let it fly. “Oh Kane. If I’ve learned nothing else this past month, fate employs a wicked sense of humor.” She wiped tears from her eyes.

“Now that’s a beautiful sound.” Dage rounded the corner and advanced like a man with purpose. One hand cupped her jaw, and he lowered his head to take.

A buzzing filled Emma’s head and heat filled every pore while her tongue tangled with the king’s. He backed her into the wall, the cool bricks contrasting with the heated vampire pressed against her front. Her knees began to tremble, and she clutched both hands into his bulletproof vest to keep from sliding to the floor.

The outside door slammed from Kane’s rather quick exit.

Dage lifted his head, eyes swirling with sparks of color. “Miss me?”

For answer she stretched up on her tiptoes to run her tongue along the cord of muscle in his neck. Salt and power exploded on her taste buds and she sighed, rubbing her nose against his heated skin. “Yes.” She relaxed and stepped back to survey him head to toe. “Any injuries?”

“No.”

Copper scented the air and an odd twinge vibrated from the king’s calve. “Then why is your leg bleeding?” She frowned, beginning to bend.

Strong hands at her elbows kept her in place. “’Tis nothing.” He cocked his head to the side. “What’s wrong?” Sucking in a breath, he centered them both in concentration.

Emma raised an eyebrow, her gaze meeting his. “Ah, nothing. In fact, we made excellent progress today. The scientific kind.” Could he feel the vibrations from her stinging knee?

Sweet dimples flashed in a predatory face. “That’s good news, love.” He lost his smile and a frown descended between his eyes. “You’re in pain.”

“No. I’m fine.” She took a step back. Oh this was so not going to be good.

Dage gave a low growl and bent at the waist, yanking up her pant leg. His lids lowered as he gazed at the blood seeping through the white gauze. “What the hell happened?”

Emma shrugged, trying to pull away. “Nothing. Really, I’m fine.”

His shoulders tensed and he unwrapped the bandage with gentle hands to study the wound. “Ouch. How did you get hurt?” Burning silver eyes lifted to pin her with fury. “I’ll kill Kane.”

A trembling set up in her stomach. “No. He wasn’t in the lab—he had gone to town for more supplies.” She wouldn’t let anyone else get blamed for this.

“You were cut in the lab? Which lab?” Dage’s voice dropped to a hoarse rumble that had her back stiffening.

“The clean one.” She glanced toward the door. “I need to get another bandage.” And escape from what appeared to be a livid vampire.

Dage stood, put his wrist to his teeth and ripped open his skin. He pressed his vein to her mouth. She hesitated for a moment, then giving in, she closed her lips over his flesh, a low murmur of pleasure escaping as that loaded liquid slid down her throat. A buzzing set up in her ears. Stars swirled before her eyes. With a soft sigh, she released him, glancing down at her knee. The wound closed into healthy pink skin with no pain—almost as if the king’s blood held a painkiller in its powerful depths.

She licked her lips. Maybe she was turning into a vampire.

Dage took her hand and strode into the office, where he punched in a series of code on the computer. An image of Lab Four came into view. Another series of code and the video reversed until she watched herself help Devon. Dage stilled to stone next to her.

He lifted his head to pin her with a gaze. “You ignored protocol?”

“Yes.”

“Were you going to tell me about the human?”

The way he said the word human irritated her. “I was considering it.”

Without a word, Dage grabbed her hand again and began stalking down the hall. She could either jog along or fall on her ass. He pushed open the heavy metal door to the armory, shrugging out of his vest with a roll of strong shoulders, fury choking the room. Various knives and guns found their homes on different shelves.

“I should get back to work.” She fought the urge to flee, channeling the adrenaline pumping through her veins into the will to remain still.

Night shot through the light silver of his eyes, turning them a pure blue closer to black. “You think you’re going back to work?” His gaze pinned her in place as he awaited her answer, the muscles bunching under his skin. “What are the chances you’re infected?”

She’d seen a myriad of color combinations in those eyes, but that one was new. Her rough swallow echoed in the deadly silent room. “They’re slim. I mean, I have no idea what the beaker contained.”

“How many beakers broke?”

She shrugged. “At least five.” Worrying about it would accomplish nothing.

“Did any of those contain the virus?” Concern and anger swirled together in his deep voice.

“Yes.” Saying the word out loud punched concern into her belly. She couldn’t get sick. Who would find a cure for Cara? “I took tests. We’ll know for sure in twenty-four hours.” Her lungs inflated as she sucked in air. “I need to go—I have a virus to cure.”

“To cure.” He repeated her words without infliction, his face hardening to stone.

Dread pooled in her abdomen. His quiet calm was scaring the shit out of her. “Yes. I’m only doing what needs to be done here, Dage.” Why couldn’t he understand that?

“You. Putting yourself in danger.” He studied her as if seeing her for the first time, his jaw clenched so tight it had to hurt. “It’s all about you, isn’t it? Finding a cure—facing any danger. All on your own.”

As quick as that, her temper spiraled to life. “Yes. The man works for me—I had a duty to try and save him.” Probably a serious miscalculation. It wasn’t wise to piss off the king.

Awareness flashed across his hard face. “I’ve handled this entire situation poorly.” He spoke mildly to himself as if she were no longer part of the conversation.

“Um, I don’t understand.” She certainly hadn’t expected an apology.

His gaze refocused on her face and one broad hand manacled her arm. “No. You don’t.”

She had no choice but to follow him from the room and down the long hallway. “Care to explain?”

“Yes, that would be best,” he agreed, opening the door and all but dragging her into the bright sunshine. For a moment his large body blocked out the sun. “I thought to ease you into this life, to prepare you for the battles to come.”

Sunshine burned her eyes when he moved, and she shifted her gaze to the dark forest. “Yes, well. I should be prepared for this war.” What the hell was he getting at?

He gave a sharp shake of his head, striding down the path toward the residence facility. “No. I thought you’d come to understand this life in a logical manner, one that makes sense.” Birds chirped happily above and the wind rustled strong pine through the trees. “I was wrong.”

Enough of this crap. She jerked her arm free and rounded on him, her tennis shoes kicking up dirt. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

No kindness or softness remained on the king’s face. Determination settled hard across those unyielding features. “Our mates are the reason we breathe, the reason we live and fight.”

Okay. He was pissed she’d ignored safety protocols. “I understand—”

“No.” A dark flush worked its way across his high cheekbones. “I learned a long time ago when something or somebody threatens your family, you strike fast and you strike hard.”

As did she. “Of course.”

He clasped her arm again, stalking forward through the trees. “Your stubborn, willful, and untrusting actions continue to threaten my mate. My family. This need to court danger ends now.”

He wouldn’t allow her to jerk free, just kept striding toward the building emerging into sight. “Let me go.”

He swung her around and pinned her against the rough wooden siding next to the door, once again blocking out the sun. “No.” A flash of fury broke through his stone façade to be quickly smoothed out. “You’re restricted to the family quarters.”

Her anger rose to match his. “No way in hell. I need to continue to work in the lab.” Her mind sought reason, a way to make him see logic. “You’re the king—it’s my duty and you damn well know it.”

He lowered his face to within an inch of hers. “I have made it abundantly clear it’s the man who claims you, not the king. You should’ve listened. Your sole duty is to me and me alone.”

Butterflies winged through her stomach and temper threatened to explode out of her. “You arrogant ass.”

His hand circled over her neck, effectively immobilizing her. “For a smart girl, your instinct for self-preservation is sorely lacking. Heed my warning, Highness. Don’t push again.”

Her eyes opened wide even as he tapped his earpiece, cocking his head to listen. “I’ll be right there.” He slowly straightened, his hand sliding down her neck to the center of her chest. “This discussion is over, love.”

A haze pounded down over her vision as a fury she’d never known whipped through her. Her knee shot upward and only inhuman reflexes kept the king from having his balls rammed to his throat.

Quick as a whip he lashed out, grasping her arms and tossing her over his shoulder to stride inside the building, passing the guards and issuing orders. “I want two guards on the door to my quarters. My mate remains inside.”

She lacked time to struggle before the doors opened and he maneuvered to the bedroom where she flew through the air and landed on the big bed. She bounced twice, too stunned to speak. Quick strides had him again through the living area, the doors sliding shut and the click of a lock snapping into place.

Emma ran forward and tugged on the doors. Son of a bitch. She’d kill him.