Promise faltered. She was uncertain how to respond. Then an idea hit her. She’d shielded her mind automatically when Logan had appeared. Hadn’t even had to think about it. Was it possible to just remove the shield? She concentrated on sliding it sideways. Ice picks attacked her temple, and she sucked in air, falling back against Ivar.
“What are you doing?” Ivar’s mouth touched her temple.
“Just experimenting,” she said, drawing the shield back into place and sighing as the diamonds sparkled and stopped the pain.
“A warning next time would be nice,” Ivar said, then turned to Logan. “Before we hit Realm headquarters, what’s the status with the Kurjan kid?”
“Safe,” Logan said. “With us. Haven’t sent him home yet.”
Promise shook her head. The demons had to be above holding a child hostage. “You should be better than that.”
“We’re not.” Ivar said shortly. “Logan?”
Logan nodded, bunched his legs, and leaped at them. The ride was smoother than the previous night, for some reason. Pure darkness, and even though Promise kept her eyes wide open, all she saw was the void.
They landed in the front yard of a solid wooden lodge. Soldiers patrolled the lawn, somehow stepping around mature rosebushes and colorful annuals just giving up the fight as winter approached.
The door opened, and out rushed a woman wearing a white lab coat opened over jeans and a yellow sweater. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her blue eyes sparkled with intelligence. Her pink tennis shoes made no sound on the crackled stone walk. She reached them and grasped Promise’s hand. “It’s so nice to meet you. This ability you have to sense people who can teleport—have you always had it?” She began to draw Promise toward the lodge.
Ivar paused them by grasping Promise’s arm. “Missy? This is Emma Kayrs, Queen of the Realm.”
This was the queen? Promise stumbled as she turned. Nobody had told her whether to curtsy or not. Did she know how to curtsy?
Emma pumped her hand vigorously.
“Emma, this is Promise Williams, my mate,” Ivar said.
Emma’s eyes widened. “Mate?” She swiveled to pierce Ivar with a look. “When?”
“Last night?” Promise wasn’t sure what to make of the queen.
Emma smiled, color rushing into her face. “Lovely. Just excellent. Great timing.” She all but dragged Promise toward the door. “This is our medical facility—halfway between Realm and demon headquarters.” Apparently finding too much resistance, she pulled Promise close and tucked her arm around Promise’s shoulders, and Ivar had to release her. “We’ll do a little blood work before we get started on the MRIs. Since the mating is just taking effect.”
Twin groans echoed behind them as Promise let the queen lead her into her lab.
Chapter Thirty-One
As Ivar had suspected, Promise and Emma became fast friends. When Faith joined them, there was so much glee discussing the test results that he wanted to tear his own head off.
Finally, it was his turn. The MRI machine gleamed white with a tiny narrow tube to shove him in. His hands started sweating first. His gut rolled over, and he moved toward the tube, wearing plain cotton pants and a white T-shirt with no metal anywhere.
Promise patted the bed. “Just lie here, and we’ll shoot you in. There’s a microphone, and we’ll get some pictures before asking you to try to teleport somewhere and then return in a minute. If you aren’t able to teleport, no worries. We want to watch your brain try.”
He swallowed, but his throat had gone dry.
She looked up at him, her honey-chocolate eyes focusing. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” He’d faced a dragon-wolf beast in a hell dimension once, and he’d felt better at that moment than this one. After being dragged through so many portals to places with unreal gravity that crushed him, feeling nervous about being shoved headfirst into a tube that would take him seconds to break apart if necessary was fucking crazy.
She ran her hand up his bare arm. “You don’t have to do this.”
He buried his panic deep inside, where it belonged, so he could force a smile for her. No way in hell was he showing weakness to his new mate. “I’m good.” Then he lay down. His heart shook against his fused ribs. Was it possible for a hybrid to have a heart attack? He’d never heard of one, but he could be the first. If his heart blew apart, it’d take ages to mend.
Promise moved into the control room, and the lights dimmed.
The machine whirred and began to slide him into the tube. His fingers dug into the sheet on either side of his body, and sweat broke out down his entire torso.
He came to an abrupt halt, and he shut his eyes, not wanting to see that he was trapped.
Memories assailed him—took him under. Blood and death and paralyzing fear. His fangs dropped, and he pricked his bottom lip, tasting blood. Metallic and familiar.
“Ivar?” Emma’s voice came from a speaker right above his head. “Your vitals are off the chart. Do you want to get out?”
“No,” he grunted. Of course he wanted out.
“Hey, Viking.” Promise’s voice came next, and the sound smoothed over him like the soft fur he’d taken off a beast one time. “Take several deep breaths.”
He followed her calm instructions, and his heart rate slowed slightly.
“That’s good. You’re safe.” She clicked off for a second. “Okay. We’ve got a baseline for your brain activity. Go ahead and attempt to teleport anywhere you want. If you don’t want to return to the MRI machine, just pop up wherever you decide. It’s okay, Ivar. If it doesn’t work, we’ll just slide you out right away.”
Her easy acceptance helped him as nothing else could have. He drew on the forces around him, fighting his own weakness. Power snapped through him and wisped away. Nothing happened. Apprehension tore into him. He reared up and hit his head on the top of the tube.
His shoulders were constrained, and his legs kicked out. His eyes opened upon darkness, and instinct took over. Invisible claws raking him, he roared and punched up as hard as he could.
Then he went nuts.
Metal flew, plastic cracked, and even the sheet tore down the middle as he fought the confinement.
Female voices called out to him through the speaker, but he couldn’t make out their words through the raging fire in his head. He punched his arm through the side, and the bed started to move, but he tore pieces with him as he went.
Strong arms grabbed him off the bed and wrenched him to the floor. “You’re okay, Viking.” Adare shook him, banding an arm around his shoulders, keeping him from flailing anymore. “Breathe, brother.”
Ivar punched out and then shuddered. His blood was on fire.
“You’re good.” Adare hugged him tight and then released him, his eyes the deepest of blacks. “I’ve got you.”
Ivar panted out heated air, the raging in his head dissipating.
“Ivar?” Promise’s voice came from the doorway.
Adare held up a hand to ward her off. “Stay there for a second, Professor.” He angled his head, watching Ivar. “Right, buddy?”
Ivar took in several more shuddering breaths and then sat back on the cold floor. His body stopped shaking, and he turned to look at the demolished equipment. He blanched.
Adare slapped him on the back, grabbed his arm, and hauled him to his feet. “Yeah. The queen is gonna be pissed. You’re on your own for that one.” Then he held tight until Ivar’s legs were able to hold him up without help, silently giving the support of a brother.
Promise ran inside and collided with his chest. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea your claustrophobia was that bad.” She hugged him, her hands flattening above his waist. “Or that you had claustrophobia.”
He lifted her chin, shocked to see tears sliding down her smooth face. Tears? For him?
She held him, rubbing his back, making soft noises.
He looked over her head at the queen, who stood in the doorway, her patrician features set in concerned lines. “I’m sorry, Emma.”
Emma’s face, already kind, softened even more. “I didn’t know, Ivar. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
He looked toward the mangled machinery. “Ah, shit.” It was worse than he’d thought. “I have funds to replace that,” he said. “Mercy can transfer the money today.”
Emma shrugged. “We have three more rooms like this one, so no worries. However, I think we’ll stick to blood and physical intensity tests for you.” She turned and slipped out of sight.
Ivar gently wiped the tears off Promise’s cheeks. “You always cry for your subjects?” he asked.
She sniffed. “This is the first time.”
Yeah, that’s what he figured. There were emotions between them, which made sense after the mating. How was he going to leave her sweetness and return to hell?
It didn’t matter how. He had no choice. The day he’d agreed to undergo the ritual to become one of the Seven, and the moment he’d survived that agonizing ordeal, his path had been forged.
Life sometimes sucked.
* * * *
“Your playroom does not suck,” Drake said, sitting cross-legged in front of the video console. “These games don’t even come out for another six months. How did you get them?”
Hope shrugged, sitting next to him with her purple game controller in her hands. “My uncle Kane makes a bunch of these games with different companies. He said that’s how he gets money to buy me presents.” She grinned.
Drake grinned back, his eyes a lighter green today. “I’ve heard of Kane. He’s supposed to be brilliant.”
“Yeah. He’s super smart,” Hope said, her heart all warm. Kane made the best ice cream too.
“Isn’t he working with the Seven?” Drake asked, his fingers fast on the controller so that his bear leaped over a bunch of snapping turtles on the screen.
“Uh-huh,” Hope said. “The Seven are good guys. You don’t hafta worry about them.” She had her bear do a summersault over a wild river with hungry crocodiles.
“Nice,” Drake said.
Hope sat up straighter, her shoulders back. He thought she was good at the game. That was awesome. “Thanks. You’re super at this too.”
Drake shook his head. “Not as good as you. And you’re wrong about the Seven. They did some bad stuff years ago and put away the guy who’s kinda like a priest to us. To do that, they broke a lot of laws.”
“Nuh-uh,” Hope said, her face getting hot. “My uncle Garrett would never break a law.” He’d joined the Seven this year. “My uncle Logan might, but he wasn’t there years ago, so he couldn’t have broken laws.” Somebody was lying to Drake, and it was just too bad. She had to get him to see the truth.
The door opened, and Paxton walked in. He had a purple bruise on his right cheekbone.
Hope stood and rushed to him. “Pax? What happened?”
Paxton turned red. “I was training this morning with a couple of demons, and one got a good shot in.” Even his ears were bright.
Drake stood and walked more slowly, his gaze on the bruise. “Looks like you caught a couple of big knuckles.” He shook his head. “Those hurt. It’s happened to me.”
Paxton lifted his chin. “Why are you still here?”
Drake shrugged. “I don’t know. I got to talk to my dad yesterday, and he wants me to come home, but the demons are keeping me here. Didn’t know you guys kidnapped kids.”
Hope shook her head, panic hurting her throat. “They’re gonna let you go home soon.” She needed to talk to her daddy. He’d come in late last night after she’d already gone to bed. Drake had stayed in their guest room.
Her mama poked her head in. “Hey, kids. You guys hungry?”
Both Paxton and Drake shuffled their feet but looked at her mama funny. Kind of like with curiosity and wishes. They nodded.
She smiled, her blue eyes sparkling. “Well, come on. I have mac and cheese, sandwiches, chips, and noodles. And for dessert I have ice cream or cookies.”
Hope bit her lip. Neither boy had a mama anymore. She could share hers with them, and she usually did with Pax, but Drake was gonna have to leave soon. She wished he could get a mama, but immortals usually couldn’t re-mate. Maybe she should tell him about that virus in case the Kurjans didn’t know.
“Hope?” her mama asked.
Hope jumped. “Oh. Yeah. We’re all hungry. Pax got hurt training today.”
Janie moved to Pax and gently lifted his chin. “Ah, sweetheart. I didn’t know there was training earlier today.”
He leaned more toward her. “A bunch of shifters were working out, and I joined them.”
Hope frowned. “You said demons.”
He jerked. “It was both. The shifters were, ah, training, and a couple of demon kids joined in. It was a demon that caught me with my guard down.”
Hope’s mom tilted her head. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“No,” Pax said, backing away from her. “I’m fine, Mrs. Kyllwood. Honest.”
“I’ve told you to call me Janie,” she said, sliding an arm around his shoulders. She turned and motioned for Drake, who walked forward slowly and took her hand. “You too, sweetheart.”
Drake blushed and leaned into her side. “Okay. Janie.”
Paxton looked him over with no expression.
Hope watched. Maybe they could eat lunch, and Pax and Drake would finally become friends. She wanted to find a way to bring Pax into the dreamworld with them, but so far, she hadn’t figured out how.
“Come on, Hope,” her mama said. “Let’s eat and then we’ll figure out how to get Drake home to his daddy. We’ve waited long enough for your daddy to figure it out.”
Ah, good. When Hope’s mama took over, things got done. Her daddy was good at leading the nation. But her mama would help Drake see his daddy soon. “Okay, Mama.” She followed behind her mom and two of her best friends in the whole world.
Things were getting better.
Her daddy appeared from a doorway down the hallway. “Janie Belle?” He walked toward them, his big boots clonking on the tiles.
Her mama stopped. “Did you make the arrangements?” Her voice had that tone that said things had to get done.
Her daddy’s green eyes sparkled, and he’d taken off all his weapons. “Yes.” He looked down at Paxton. “What happened to your eye?”
“Training,” Paxton said, pressing closer to Janie. “I’ll do better next time, Zane.”
Daddy ruffled Pax’s hair. “You’re doing fine. We’ll talk later.” He looked at Drake. “Hey, Drake. Have you ever teleported?”
Drake shook his head.
Daddy smiled. “It’s no big deal. I’ll just hold your arm, we’ll fly through a little tunnel, and then I’ll take you to see your dad. How does that sound?”
Her mama reared back. “You’re taking him?”
Daddy nodded. “Yes. Our requests have been satisfied.” He reached for Drake, who held out his arm. “I’ll be right back.” Then they zipped out of sight.
A moment later Daddy was back. He leaned over to kiss Mama on the nose. “It’s fine. We made arrangements earlier, and Dayne was waiting in a public place. Drake and I popped in behind a few trees, he ran to his dad, and I left before anybody could shoot me.” He looked toward Hope. “So. I guess we should talk about being grounded now for going into town without permission.”
Ah, man. That stank. She’d hoped her daddy would forget and would need to go back to work. There was lots going on with the Seven.
She knew because
she’d had dreams that night about the Seven and her uncle Ivar. He was gonna get hurt again, and she hadn’t figured out a way to save him.
But she would.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The week flew by for Promise at demon headquarters. She spent her days conducting experiments with Faith and Emma while Grace recorded everything with her camera, wanting to participate but falling asleep with irritated groans whenever Promise tried to explain string theory to her. They’d quickly discovered the areas of the immortal brain that lit up when teleporting happened, and it was true—different areas were triggered for demons and fairies.
The search for the female demon-Fae hybrid had intensified, with both Realm and demon computer experts working around the clock to find her—if she had survived her childhood.
Promise’s nights were spent with Ivar Kjeidsen, learning that her body was made to enjoy as much as her brain was. The sense of urgency surrounding their scientific investigations only amplified her feelings overall.
It was also fascinating to see him try to heal himself. Since she’d been able to identify the area of the brain that controlled teleporting, she was able to use a scan to show Ivar exactly where to send the healing cells. He said he could feel a change in that area within a day of concentrating on it.
One night she was typing furiously in her laptop from the university, sitting on their bed, waiting for Ivar to return from training. Apparently the demon soldiers had new moves to share with him. She muttered to herself, really not liking where the math was heading. Ivar was going to like her results even less. Her stomach cramped, but she forced herself to keep diagramming and working the numbers.
Her laptop dinged, and she pressed a button, bringing Mark Brookes on-screen. “Mark. Hello,” she said, smiling, grateful for a break. “How are you?”
His thinning hair was swept back, and his eyes glowed with excitement. “Excellent. I’ve been working on my grant and have managed to incorporate your last two research papers with my current theories. I think my math could help you with your theoretical application for interdimensional travel. Maybe. Or it would be just fun to work together again.”
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