Hunted

Chapter 25

It had taken all night. Although underground at headquarters, Kalin could sense the sun rising in the sky above. So dangerous. So tempting.

He stepped out of the shower, kicking his clothes to the side. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he frowned at the long line of scratches down his torso. Peggy’s attack had surprised him. The girl had more fight in her than he’d hoped. Not that her spirit had done her any good.

He lumbered down the hall to his bedroom, stopping short at the leader sitting in a reading chair. “Franco.”

Franco nodded, tossing aside the worn copy of Machiavelli’s The Art of War. “I take it your trip to Omaha went well?”

“Yes. Very.” Kalin dropped the towel, reaching to tug on some sweats. Nudity had never concerned him overmuch. “We flew low and didn’t file a flight plan, so there will be no record of the trip.”

Franco’s silver eyebrows rose over his deep purple eyes. “I see you got rid of the black polish and lipstick.”

“I’m out of that phase.” Kalin shrugged. No more pretending to be human. The species was prey for a reason.

“So, there won’t be any repercussions from your journey?” Franco’s stark white face tightened.

Kalin couldn’t wait until he ruled the world and didn’t have to hide. “No. The girl was from here, which is why I waited until she reached Nebraska. I took her at the airport, and believe me, no one saw.” The surprised look on her face had been priceless. And when she’d met the real him, well now. “She had a rather high tolerance for pain.” Impressed the hell out of him. For nearly two seconds he’d considered keeping her.

Franco rolled his eyes, standing and strolling for the door. “I’ll monitor the Omaha news just in case. When will she be found?”

“Soon.” He’d dumped her behind a nightclub near the garbage. Where she deserved.

Silly girl giving up the life he could’ve given her. He’d like to go after that loser Joe, but would have to wait. Coincidence wasn’t his friend. Joe’s turn would come, and with it enough pain to make the sadness still lingering in Kalin’s solar plexus fade away.

The laptop dinged on the sturdy desk he’d taken from a woman in Georgia the year before. She’d even tasted like peaches, crying in a thick accent. Kalin sauntered forward, clicking keys. “Erik is calling. They put him through to here.”

Franco strode toward the computer. “Bring him up.”

Erik filled the screen, his curly red hair sticking out in every direction. “Where’s my witch?”

“Nice to see you too, brother.” Franco clasped both hands behind his back. “We don’t have a witch yet. Why don’t you get your own?”

Crimson eyes flashed.

Kalin swallowed. Sure, his people had odd colors. But red hair and red eyes? The guy even creeped him out. “I’ll go get you a witch, Erik.” He’d never taken a witch. Might be a decent challenge for him.

Erik clicked his tongue loudly. “How nice of you, Kalin.”

“No.” Franco pressed a heavy hand down on Kalin’s shoulder. “We’ll find you a witch. What about your misgivings?” Low, rolling, Franco’s tone issued threat.

Kalin stiffened, glancing from Franco to his brother. “What misgivings?”

Erik straightened his lab coat, tucking a silver pen into the breast pocket. “Any airborne virus will affect all mates, even our own. I merely noted we need an inoculation before we mutate the virus to mass contaminate—which is still far in the future ... and taking longer since you can’t seem to acquire a witch.”

“Why Erik. I had no idea you thought to find yourself a mate.” Franco curled his lip, condescension dripping from each word.

Kalin shrugged the hand off his shoulder. He’d heard the rumors about Erik and didn’t give a damn. The guy could like men, goats, or monkeys for all he cared, so long as he did his job. “How is it going with the captured shifters?”

“Well.” Erik glared at his brother and leaned to the side, flipping open a manila folder. “After infecting several felines at the colloquium last year, we kidnapped a few wolf shifters and have injected them. The females react faster than the males, as we suspected.”

Figured. A virus equaled weakness. Of course the females succumbed first. “Any luck with enslaving them?” Kalin asked.

“Not yet.” Erik squinted, frowning. “The virus takes them down to werewolf form, but with more of a ... backbone ... so to speak, than a normal human werewolf.” He cleared his throat, tossing aside the folder. “Keep in mind, gentlemen, these constitute our first trials with the virus. The plan is long term.”

Maybe that part of the plan would take a while. In fact, every psychic vibe Kalin had inherited from his deceased mother bellowed that nothing would happen until Janie came of age. Janie was truly the catalyst for the future, and he didn’t need their oracles spouting predictions to know that fact. For now, other concerns occupied his mind. “What about the gene manipulation therapy?”

“We’re researching several viable solutions.” Erik nodded to someone off camera. “Your I.Q. is too high to measure, Kalin. Why don’t you put that big brain to work and come help me with the research?”

Being stuck underground in some lab sounded like hell. “I need to keep training. My talents lie in battle.” A fact Kalin had learned early. The need to hit and destroy sometimes turned his blood on fire. Hunting and stalking his prey calmed him so he could at least get some sleep. “My father’s sword adorns the wall above my bed.” Sharp, deadly, and shining in the meager light, the weapon would someday take off Talen Kayrs’ head. Kalin even slumbered under the mantle of death.

“So long as you’re keeping up your studies while learning how to hit things, I’ll keep up the research on light manipulation therapy.” Erik rolled his eyes. “Why you’re in such a hurry to venture into the sun, I’ll never know. I have to go.” Without another word, the screen went dark.

“Kalin.” Franco kept his gaze on the dead screen. “My brother might be a genius, but never forget he’s weak.”

“Of course.” Kalin doubted being gay led to weakness. “Though whether or not he mates is of no concern to me.”

“My concerns are broader than his sickness.” Franco pivoted, heading for the door. “Erik enjoys philosophy and believes himself a modern intellectual. Always watch the smart ones.” Franco paused at the doorway. “It’s good to have you back.” Then he headed down the hallway.

Kalin’s gaze shifted to the wall of Peggy’s pictures. “It’s good to be back.” Reaching for the center photograph, he ripped it in two. She’d confused him, a fact she’d paid dearly for. “Even sobbing, begging for your life, you were pretty.”

With a sigh, he reached for the rest of the pictures. They no longer belonged.