Claimed

Chapter 21

“This is just silly,” Emma muttered, searching under the large oak desk for the correct file. She found it in the makeshift cardboard filing system and stood, the chill of the small lab making her shiver. “I would like to study the werewolf, Kane.” Sometimes risk was a necessary component of any scientific pursuit. Any promise made during sex shouldn’t count. How unsafe could the werewolf be, anyway?

Kane grunted in response, peering into a microscope.

“Was that grunt in agreement?” Emma flipped open the correct file, squinting in irritation and wondering if they should buy a space heater. The scents of bleach and paper made her bite back a sneeze.

“No.” Kane lifted his head. “The king rarely gives orders, Em. I suggest you follow them this time.”

“I am so freakin’ tired of taking orders from the Kayrs brothers.” Nearly a week had passed since Dage had wrung a promise to be safe out of her. She needed to study the werewolf. All she’d learned so far was the beast ate raw meat and wanted to kill anything near it. “It seems like there’s a way to trace the poor creature to its master. Somehow.”

Kane scribbled some notes on a chart and nudged them toward Emma. “The b72 compound attacks the second dosage of the virus very nicely. But something’s missing.”

She’d noticed that about him. He easily ignored subjects he wished not to discuss. Like the werewolf. And designer shoes. Emma sighed, sitting on a rolling desk chair. “Yes. The compound attacks the proteins in a petri dish but if we apply the cure to a bound chromosome, nothing happens. There’s something binding this savvy bug to the DNA strand.” Regret for the fired doctoral students filled her for a moment. She needed everyone on this research, human or not.

A sharp bleep announced a caller on the large screen encompassing one wall. A woman took shape. Emma gave Kane a glare out the corner of her eye, wishing she’d put on some lipstick. A quick push rolled her close enough to kick him in the shin. Good thing she’d worn her cute pointy shoes today.

He cut her an irritated glance and stepped to the side, out of her range but still within camera view.

“Well now. Hello Kane.” Simone’s dark eyes flashed and she pouted her ruby-red lips.

“Hi Simone.” Kane cleared his throat. “We might need some magical help and I thought to give you a ring.”

Emma fought the urge to throw something at his stupid head. “We found help,” she muttered quietly. A quick roll and her foot connected again.

Kane jumped and then nodded. “We contacted your cousin Moira, but I wanted to get a couple of opinions.” Moving swiftly, he pivoted behind Emma’s chair, holding it in place with the camera before them. Ass.

Simone threw back her head and issued a sexy laugh that belonged in a smoke-filled bar. “Little Moira, huh? Well, rumor has it she did all right during her last training—for a fledgling witch, of course.”

Emma showed her teeth. “She’s known as one of the best. Seventh sister of the seventh sister and such.” She wished she knew a spell to give Simone a big old pimple on her pale nose. If she believed in spells, that is.

Simone’s eyes darkened further. “Yet she hasn’t secured a place on the Coven Nine, now has she?”

“What’s the Coven Nine?” Emma glanced over her shoulder at Kane.

He cleared his throat. “The Nine is the ruling body for all covens. Only the most powerful witches are nominated. Simone has been a member for a hundred years.” His raised eyebrow promised retribution for the kicks.

Would it be too childish if Emma rolled her eyes? Probably. “I’m sure Moira will take her place in due time.” For some reason Emma felt compelled to defend her new sister-in-law. Or mate-in-law. Or whatever the hell the correct terminology was. “Give me science any day of the week,” she whispered to Kane.

Simone sighed. “What do you need, Kane?”

“Have you heard of Virus 27?” He gave Emma’s chair a push and moved them both closer to the screen.

“Of course. Though you should probably start organizing the information coming forth from the Realm.” Simone leaned over to type on a keyboard, revealing ample breasts. “Rumors and innuendo are fine during peace time, but now we’re at war.”

“Good point.” Kane nodded. “We think there’s a magical component to the virus.”

Simone frowned. “How so?”

“The virus is too strong to be without something extra,” he said. He kept his hands firmly on the back of the chair so Emma couldn’t turn around ... and kick him again.

Hard black eyes focused on Emma. “Maybe you need better scientists.”

Kane sighed. “If I send you the information, would you please take a look?”

“Of course.” White teeth sparkled in a parody of a smile. “I’d do anything for a member of the Kayrs family. In fact, I believe I already have.” Her voice lowered to a purr at the end.

Kane groaned quietly. “Thanks Simone.”

Simone cleared her throat. “Um, I’m not sure how to say this, but there’s a movement afoot to remove the Kayrs family from Realm leadership.”

Kane stilled. “Is there, now?” His voice lowered to a softness that had Emma smiling. Those Kayrs men. Badasses all around.

Simone held her hands out placatingly. “Yes. I’m just reporting in, Kane. I support your family.” She dropped her hands. “But the rumor is that you’re working with humans—humans that have access to vampire DNA profiles.”

“Who’s leading the charge here, Simone?”

Her eyes darkened. “I don’t know. I’ve only heard rumors.”

Kane sighed. “The rumors are unfounded. Not one human has access to anything dealing with the Realm. You have my word on it.”

Simone nodded. “I understand.”

“Good. I’ll speak with you soon. Bye.” He cut off the feed and silence echoed around the room. “Sorry. I figured the more help we found, the better.” He pushed Emma’s chair forward and spun it until she faced him. “Kick me again and you’ll regret it.”

Her shoe made a loud thunk against his shin. She raised an eyebrow. “So?”

His grin reached his eyes. “I didn’t say when, little sister.”

Emma swallowed hard, then nodded. “Fine. Can Dage be removed as king?”

Kane sighed. “Yes. But it’s a nearly impossible process, and no way it happens during a time of war.”

Dread slid down her spine. “What is the process?”

“It doesn’t matter. For now, we concentrate on the virus.”

She’d have to corner Dage later to find out more. “Okay. Now let’s call Moira.”

Across the globe, Moira paced before the camera, wondering what the heck was taking so long. She had a bad feeling about this virus, and she need to talk to Kane and Emma.

She glanced around the communications room located in the basement of the large castle. The equipment was far superior to that at her cottage, and her father seemed pleased when she requested its use. Her boots echoed off the cement floor and bounced back toward her from the thick block walls. She’d shooed everyone else out. Who could she trust?

The screen bleeped and she frowned at the caller’s identity. With a heartfelt sigh, she punched in a couple keys and waited until a woman took shape. “Cousin Simone. How nice to see you.” The lie nearly caught in her throat.

Simone smiled. Always a dangerous sight. “Good day to you, cousin Moira.”

“Thank you. How did you find me?”

Simone laughed. “I asked your mother.”

Her mother served on the council with Simone. Moira fought a grimace. “What can I do for you?” Besides going back in time and not being born the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter. Simone may be on council of the Coven’s Nine, but her powers wouldn’t come close to Moira’s once fully developed. A fact the older witch knew well.

Black eyes sparkled. “How kind of you to ask. The Kayrs family contacted me with a question regarding magic and some silly virus and Kane mentioned he’d spoken with you.”

“Yes.” Irritation battled reason. Of course a second opinion was often required when it came to science. Magic too, for that matter.

Simone arched a fine eyebrow. “What have you found? Is there any possibility magic is involved here?”

Moira nodded. “Anything is possible. But I don’t know.” Not true. She did know. Something perverse in her wanted to be the one to help the Realm. Simone would take all the credit if given the opportunity. Let the snotty witch reach her own conclusions. “I’m sure Kane sent you the same information. I’d appreciate it if you contact me once you’ve reviewed the documents.” Simone would have to force herself away from shopping, parties, and pretending to rule on the council. “Of course, if magic is involved, the Coven Nine will need to be fully informed.” So they could go after the perpetrator. And Harm None meant something to the Coven.

Simone’s eyes darkened again. “Well, if you need help, of course I’ll volunteer. So you’ve quit running from the Kayrs family?” Her voice lowered to a purr. “How is your mate?”

The smile Moira forced onto her face actually stung. “Conn is fine and fully understands I’ve been working on my craft ... and not running.” She moved closer to the camera. “I understand if you’d rather I communicated with the Kayrs family. With you and the king not working out and all.” Petty. But satisfaction still raised its head.

Simon’s smile belonged on a jaguar about to strike. “Yes, well. I’ve met the king’s current interest. It’ll never last.”

An unwelcomed sympathy slid through Moira. She sighed. “Dage mated her, Simone. I’m sorry.” For a moment she was.

Simone paled and pure fire lanced through those odd eyes before she gathered herself. “I see. A decision he will certainly regret, I’m afraid.” She leaned forward and tapped the keyboard. “A pleasure as always, cousin.” The screen went black.

Poor Simone. The woman was a complete bitch, but her feelings for the king had been real.

A loud bleep announced another call, and Moira punched in the appropriate code.

Emma took shape. “Hi Moira.”

“Emma.” Moira stepped closer to the camera. “I’ve spoken with Simone, and she’ll look over the material you sent as well.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I didn’t contact her. Kane did. I’d rather have my kidneys removed with a butter knife than work with that woman.” Deep red rose to color the queen’s flawless skin. “Oh. Er. Sorry. I know you’re cousins.”

“We’re not close.” Moira gave a grimace only another woman would understand. “Believe me.”

Emma nodded. “I do. So, what do you think about the virus?”

Moira took a deep breath. “I’ve studied your material, and I believe someone cast an energy-altering spell allowing the catalyst to speed up the progression of the virus.” Though why in the hell a witch would do something so destructive was beyond her.

Emma sat back in her chair. “You’ve been working on the catalyst?”

“Yes. I’ve identified a binding spell on the catalyst but haven’t figured out the application of magic on the actual virus yet.” Moira leafed through some papers. “I can create a spell to counteract the catalyst’s energy, but you still need a scientific cure for the actual matter of the liquid.”

“We think we’re on to something.” Kane shrugged. “We hope. We’re not sure yet.” He cut his eyes to Emma. “Don’t even think of kicking me again.”

Moira smiled. “I can wait if the Kayrs needs a kicking.” They all did, as far as she was concerned. She eyed the queen with interest.

Emma shook her head. “I’ve done the best I can today. So what do we do about the virus now?”

Moira focused across the world at her new friend. “Give me some time to come up with a spell that won’t backfire.” Bugger. How many coven laws would she break by sharing this level of magic? She should seek permission, but she had enough problems right now. “Are those infected doing all right?”

Emma shook her head. “All are getting progressively worse.”

Dread filled Moira. She needed time to do this right. A slow burn spiraled out from the front of her left hip, and she straightened her shoulders as two more Kayrs brothers came into view across the screen.

“Dailtín,” Conn said, his emerald eyes hard.

“Connlan.” Her voice came out a bit breathy. He looked good. Tall, broad, thick jaw, and long brown hair. He’d grown it out since she’d last seen him. No man should have eyes so pure. “Name calling, are we?”

He shrugged. “Stop acting like a brat, and I’ll find something else to call you.” His gaze warmed until her skin flushed. “As I recall, you enjoy sweet nothings whispered in your ear.”

Those sweet nothings whispered in that deep voice had had her dropping her skirts for the vampire much too quickly. Her one and only time with a man. Heat slammed into her abdomen and only a true Irish will kept her from doubling over. She shifted her gaze to the soldier standing shoulder to shoulder with her mate. “King.”

“Hi, Moira.” Dage smiled at her, humor lightening his usually serious eyes.

Conn planted his feet. “I need the room.” He kept his gaze pinned on her. The room quickly cleared, Dage shutting the door on his way out.

“Feeling dramatic, are we?” Moira lifted her chin. Damn but the marking on her hip was a bit too close to her core for comfort.

“I’m done waiting.”

She’d known this day would come. Butterflies winged through her stomach and her heart sped up to a gallop. “You step foot on my continent and it’s war, Connlan.”

“You’d hide behind your soldiers, Dailtín? I’d thought more of you.” He took another step closer to the camera, and she had to fight to keep from stepping back in reaction.

Anger rolled through her like the waves of the Northern Sea. “No. I don’t need the soldiers, Conn.”

“Ah.” Promise swirled deep in those dangerous vampire eyes. “War between us, then.” A slow smile spread across his face more daunting than any battle cry.

She centered herself, drawing deep on power. “Come near Norcastle and I’ll turn you into a toad.” Okay, probably not. But she would inflict damage without question.

His smile didn’t waver. “I gave you a hundred years to train for what you’re meant to do. For what the damn treaty demanded.” Moira’s father had demanded the century of freedom for her and wanted Conn’s and Dage’s signature in order to prevent war. The Kayrs men had signed, but only after Moira insisted she needed the time. “You’re done, as am I.” He stepped closer and for a moment the air visibly crackled with his power.

Tossing her head, she sought calm. “Meant to do? No. I’ve trained for who I’m meant to be.” He’d paid her no mind for a century. No way in hell was she traveling across the world to warm his bed.

Purpose flashed over his strong face, and his jaw set. “Wrong. Witchcraft is your calling, what you’re meant to do. As for who and what—you’re meant to be mine. Make peace with your destiny now.”

“Think so?” A gust of wind tickled her neck. Damn. She needed to control her emotions. “You have no idea what I can do. What the right spell could ...” Fire flashed in Conn’s eyes and for a moment she lost her train of thought. Heat slashed through the cameras to slide through her veins. From him.

His voice lowered to a timbre that skittered awareness along her skin. “You thinking about removing my marking, céadsearc?”

Sweetheart. She’d taught him the word that night. “Yes.” She’d been trying to remove the marking for several decades without success. “One night a century ago does not dictate my future, Kayrs.” Though what a night. She still dreamed about his hard body covering her.

“The hell it doesn’t.” Shards of silver ripped through his emerald eyes. They had turned a deep liquid moonlight the night he’d taken her. Several times. “Fate made a choice, Moira. Prepare yourself. Because I’ve made mine.”

The screen went black.

Bullocks. Moira grabbed the nearest files. First she’d deal with the virus. Then she’d erase Connlan’s marking from her flesh. For good.