Tamed

by Rebecca Zanetti

  The look he gave her defied description. “Caveman tactics?”

  All right. Maybe she could’ve chosen her words better. “Yes—” She ended on a squawk as the world spun and her ribs hit his hard shoulder. Even as he slung her over that shoulder, contained gentleness dictated his every move with her. “Hey—”

  “Shut up,” he said, turning and striding across the room.

  Guiles coughed. “I must remind you that you’re carting a prophet of the Realm across the room like a sack of potatoes.”

  “If she’s planning to trade herself to a Kurjan, then she’s no smarter than a sack of potatoes,” Caleb said grimly, brushing past Guiles and through the door.

  “I most certainly was not planning to trade myself,” she muttered against the rebel’s impossibly broad back.

  He halted. “You weren’t?”

  “Of course not.” She tried not to look, but he really did have a nicely tight behind. Strong and muscled. Plus, where else was she to look, anyway? Air swished, and she found herself facing Caleb in the hallway, holding his wrists to regain her balance.

  “What was your plan?” He frowned.

  She brushed hair back from her face. If she were any other woman, she’d punch him in the nose for the barbaric treatment. But she was a prophet. So, with a sniff, she turned on her heel. “You’ve lost the right to figure it out with me by such ridiculous behavior.”

  As an exit line, it was perfectly delivered. Unfortunately, instead of appreciating her professional rejoinder, Caleb hauled her into his arms before she could take another step. “Damn it, Caleb.”

  He grinned, pressing her close against his hard chest, his hold gentle to keep from bruising. “Is that any way for a prophet to talk?”

  At the sarcasm and the overdone gentleness, something snapped in Lily. Ducking her shoulder against his armpit, she punched him in the nose.

  His head jerked back, his eyes wide. Blood welled by his nostril. Lily gasped, horror filling her abdomen.

  Caleb narrowed his eyes . . . and smiled. “There’s my girl.”

  “No.” Shame tightened her throat. “I’m not a woman who hits. I do apologize and ask you to put me down.” It felt too wonderful to be in the rebel’s arms, and she needed to get a grasp on herself. Duty called.

  “No.” He continued to stride through the lodge until he kicked open the door to his quarters.

  Her mouth opened and then shut. She shook her head. Nobody said “no” to her. “I believe my request was clear.”

  “Fine.” With a mere twitching of his shoulders, Caleb tossed her across the room to land on the sofa.

  She bounced several times, her arms flailing to find security. Her gasp echoed while she settled her skirts appropriately into place. “I am a prophet.” At the words, the clear, reasonable words, fury burned hot enough to scald her tongue. She shot to her feet. “Nobody throws me across the room. Ever.” She employed guards who would kill him in a second—even if he was a prophet.

  “I just did.” Caleb leaned against the door, muscled arms crossed. “What are you going to do about it?” His right eyebrow rose, and those myriad of colors in his odd eyes brightened.

  She wanted to knock him on his butt. But even after years of training, she’d be self-delusional to think she could take him in a fight. “Last night I had a visionary dream about a little boy with your eyes and my nose. Our child, Caleb.” Might as well go for the emotional punch since she couldn’t throw a physical one.

  He blinked. “Excuse me.”

  “Your ears are functional, are they not?” She mirrored his stance, crossing her arms. “Fate told me that if I wanted that child, I had to kill Janie.” If there was one thing she’d learned as a counselor, it was to share burdens and fears. The idea of losing that little boy before he really appeared sliced through her heart. What would it do to Caleb? Maybe he could help her figure out the truth.

  He rubbed his chin, gaze dropping to her abdomen.

  She huffed out a breath. “I’m not pregnant now, you dolt. We’re not mated yet.”

  “I know.” His voice softened, the tone licking along her skin. “You said ‘yet.’ ”

  “That wasn’t my intention.” Deflated, Lily settled back on the sofa, her ankles crossed.

  “A babe? Our babe?” Caleb’s eyes lightened in wonder. “Tell me more about him.”

  She swallowed. “He looked like you and supposedly ends some plague. I guess he turns out brilliant. But when I saw him, he was a toddler.” A beautiful boy with multicolored eyes. God, she wanted him. Tears choked her throat.

  “I can’t wait to see him.” Caleb’s smile held gentle promise.

  If he came into being. Lily fought against emotion and searched for logic. “Whatever is causing these dreams, these directives to kill, it’s becoming more persistent. Or it’s tapping in to the future, which is often true with visions.”

  “Or both.” Caleb straightened, gaze intense. “Why manipulate you with a child?”

  Lily swallowed. “One of my deepest regrets is being unable to have a child, since I was widowed so quickly.” Until the virus came along, once a person was mated, it stuck. There could be no other matings, and thus, she could never conceive. She wanted a child more than anything in the world, and the thought of having Caleb’s son filled her with a yearning that almost frightened her.

  “Your mating aspect is gone now. If we cure the virus, you could mate again,” Caleb said.

  “I know.” She tried to veil her expression, but her heart began to hammer against her ribs. She wanted a baby to love and cherish so much, the idea that it might someday be possible hurt with hope.

  Caleb’s gaze dropped to her chest.

  Darn vampire hearing.

  “I promise he’ll be born. You have my word,” Caleb said. “Want to practice now?”

  Heat splashed into Lily’s face. “No.” Not true. Not even remotely true. She glanced at her wristwatch and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting.”

  The smile curving Caleb’s face was less than kind. “I have a meeting with the king, or I’d pursue this line of questioning. Enjoy your reprieve now, Prophet. I’ll talk to you later.” He slid to the side.

  Lily breathed in, trying to control her heartbeat. If Caleb had had any idea whom she was about to contact, he’d truly get his knickers in a twist. Or boxers. Frankly, she knew firsthand the rebel went commando. Her cheeks heated even more.

  He opened the door, grasping her arm in a gentle grip to turn her toward him. “We’re going to figure all of this out. I promise.” Ducking his head, he swept his lips over hers. Gentle and scalding.

  Her breath caught. She returned his kiss and fought a moan of protest when he stopped. They were lovers, and she owed him the truth. “The Kurjan leader is more likely to speak with me than with you, Caleb. I think we should use that.”

  “No.” Caleb’s jaw noticeably hardened.

  “Yes. I’m stronger than you think.” Why couldn’t he see the real woman?

  A vein bulged in his neck. “You’re strong but also delicate and naïve. Jesus, Lily. You’re practically innocent. Evil doesn’t belong anywhere near you.”

  “Innocent? Not after the other night.” The man was blind. “You don’t own me, and if I see an opening with Franco, I’m taking it.”

  Fire lanced through Caleb’s eyes, sharpening the colors. “Don’t I?”

  The breathy tone licked right down her spine. “Um, no.”

  “Let’s see about that.” He yanked her against him.

  Her nipples hardened, and she couldn’t help moving just enough to rub them against his hard chest. Fire lashed down from her breasts to her clit. How could he make her want so badly?

  His husky laugh washed over her as he nipped her earlobe, tracing the shell with his heated tongue. “I think I’ll leave you with something to remember me by today.” He slipped a hand underneath her blouse, caressing up to circle and tease her engorged areola. “Tell me you understa
nd your role with the Kurjans, and I’ll let you come. Fight me, and you’ll be in need all day.”

  He punctuated the last word with a pinch to her nipple that almost sent her over the edge. She gasped, her hands grabbing his forearms, her knees weakening.

  Need.

  God, she needed this. “Please—”

  “Not good enough.” He rubbed her against his erection, unerringly hitting her clit each time. “Tell me you understand.”

  “I understand,” she gasped, desperate to fall over.

  He pressed against her and pinched her nipple again. “Now, Lily.”

  Agonizing pleasure ripped through her as she exploded, her knees going weak, her mind blanking. She cried out, head back, riding the waves.

  He held her upright, waiting until she sighed in relief. Then he removed his hand and straightened her blouse. “I’m glad we’re clear here.”

  She leaned back and studied his face. Hard lines cut handsome grooves, while experience and loss filled his eyes. For once, she spoke without measuring her words. “You have the eyes of a soldier and the heart of a warrior, Caleb Donovan.”

  He tilted his head to the side, running a hand down her arm. “Why is your tone sad?”

  Because even though she believed in Fate, she was fully aware of reality. “That doesn’t leave much, does it?”

  His dangerous eyes somehow softened, even in hue. “That leaves everything. Want my soul, Lily? It’s yours.”

  Chapter Ten

  Caleb stalked through the weapons detector and fought the urge to plow the damn thing over when it dinged again.

  Dage exhaled heavily while leaning against the wall of the small training room they’d turned into an exact duplicate of the underground peace-talk facility. “The good news is that if we can’t create a weapon able to fool the detector, the other species won’t be able to make one, either,” the king said thoughtfully.

  “We hope,” Caleb said grimly, drawing the poly-plastic knife from his boot. “Is this the best we can come up with?”

  “Yes.” Dage sauntered forward to sit on a stone table. “We’ve tried all manner of knives, guns, and even electrical weapons. The machine takes a scan of the body walking through it, so nothing can be hidden anyway. I could even see a scar on your liver.”

  Caleb stretched his neck with a loud pop. “A werewolf caught me in Iceland during the turf wars. I was damaged enough I couldn’t repair it completely.” Damn, that had hurt. Livers mattered.

  The door opened, and Janie Kayrs walked inside. “You wanted to see me, Uncle Dage?”

  “Yes.” Dage glanced at the woman’s training outfit. “Walk through the detector, would you?”

  “Sure.” Janie had pulled her hair up in a ponytail, and blond highlights showed brightly through the sable length. She eyed the detector and then stepped through. An instant clanging went up, and the color scanner on the side showed a knife at her hip, a gun in her boot, and another blade tucked into the small of her back. Shoulder damage showed above her right clavicle, as well.

  Caleb frowned. “What happened to your shoulder?”

  Janie peered around the machine to see her body scan. “Werewolf attack when I was sixteen.”

  “Does it still hurt?” Caleb asked.

  The young woman flashed him a rueful smile. “Only when it’s about to rain.”

  Being human must truly bite sometimes. Caleb eyed the gun at her waist, noting it was loaded and the safety was on. “I have to ask. Do you think you’re supposed to save humanity or destroy it?” Yeah. He was searching for some logic to the damn dreams.

  The smile slid from her stunning face to leave a thoughtful soberness. “I’m supposed to change the world, and I don’t know how.” She reached for the knife at her waist to twirl the blade in a way Caleb had seen her uncles do for centuries.

  “So Fate controls you?” Caleb asked, ignoring Dage’s pointed look.

  “No.” Janie shook her head, curiosity glowing in her gaze. “But the choices we make often have unforeseen consequences. I may make a decision without realizing how it’ll affect the world. I mean, if the prophecies are true. Who really knows?”

  Now that was a burden to carry, wasn’t it? Caleb nodded. “Do you prefer being called Janet now that you’re grown, or is it still Janie?”

  Her shoulders relaxed and she chuckled. “I answer to either name, as well as Kayrs, Belle, or Isabella. My brother calls me ‘frog face.’ ”

  “Frog face it is,” Caleb said. Whatever fate wanted him to kill this woman was going to be bitterly disappointed. Even if Janie did hold the fate of the world in her hands, he trusted she’d make the right decision at the right time. Dage’s pointed stare was beginning to grate on Caleb’s nerves. “What?” he asked the king.

  “Why the questions?” Dage asked, a subtle menace blending with interest in his expression.

  “Just making chitchat.” Caleb needed to attend the peace talks to protect everyone he cared about, and Dage might have the power to have him banned. Maybe. So he couldn’t discuss the visions with the king. Yet.

  “Right.” The king gestured toward the northern table. “At the talks, you’ll sit there, Janie.”

  Janie nodded and walked over to drop into the middle chair. “Here?”

  “Yes.” Caleb jerked his head for the king to follow suit, and Dage stalked over to sit next to Janie. “Your father will stand behind the two of you, and the prophets will sit at the table to your left.”

  Janie looked toward the table. “I’m assuming you’ll sit the closest?”

  “Yes. I’d like to keep Lily from attending, but if she does, Lily will sit to my left, and Guiles will flank her on the other side.” Caleb eyed the remainder of the room. A need to protect Lily physically and emotionally was keeping him on high alert. “The remaining tables are for the other species, and we’ll go over those in detail at a later date. For now, memorize where you sit.”

  Dage leaned his elbows on the heavy table. “Our entrance and exit will be directly behind you, so if anything goes wrong, you head that way immediately.”

  “What could go wrong?” Janie glanced around the room. “We’ll be so far underground that not even the witches will have power.” She spread her palms along the rough table. “Caleb? As a prophet, aren’t you supposed to be neutral and not planning with our side?”

  “I’m not a prophet. I’m a soldier aligned with the Realm.” How many times did he have to explain himself? Although Dage had made sense with the argument that Caleb already counseled soldiers, he wasn’t ready to admit he belonged as a prophet.

  Janie nodded. “All right. Rebel.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You mentioned powers. Have you had any visions regarding the peace talks?”

  “Just blurry ones that involve fire and people, but I can’t see who is there or what happens. I just know that the talks occur, and I’m there.” Janie glanced at her uncle. “I get a sense of you close by, but I don’t even see you.”

  Caleb ignored the warning tickle at the base of his neck. “This could be a trap for us.”

  Dage rubbed his chin. “I know, but we have to take the chance in order to find peace.” He sighed. “Plus, we need to participate because refusing would make us look weak and vulnerable. We can’t afford that right now, and you know it.”

  Janie twirled the knife again. “Lily said the Kurjans have insinuated they have a cure for Virus-27. Do you think it’s true?” Her gaze remained on the swirling blade as it caught the light.

  “No,” Caleb said flatly.

  “Me, either,” Janie murmured. “But Lily is speaking with Franco again, so maybe she’ll get a better insight.”

  Caleb’s head jerked up. “She’s doing what?”

  The knife dropped to the table, and Janie’s eyes widened. “I, ah, I mean—”

  Fire spread through Caleb’s veins with the power of fury as he pivoted for the door. “If you two would excuse me, I have business.”

  “Prophet business?
” Dage asked dryly from behind him.

  “Bite me,” Caleb muttered as he stalked into the hallway after the woman who was driving him crazy. They’d had an understanding, damn it. He’d all but given her his soul, and she had turned right around to purposefully call the enemy?

  Oh, hell no.

  Lily finished reading the newest literature on PTSD and shut down her computer. After several attempts to reach the Kurjan leader through a secure line, she’d given up and gone to work. A knock on the door had her turning. “Come in.”

  Prophet Guiles stepped inside, worry on his angled features. “Do you have a moment?”

  “Yes.” Lily gestured toward one of two floral chairs near the fireplace in her Oregon office in the main lodge of the compound. The king had ordered it decorated specially for her visits, and the feminine hues were always soothing. She counseled many a wounded soldier or frustrated mate in the peaceful office. “I wanted to discuss a matter with you, as well.”

  Guiles tugged up perfectly creased black pants and sat, overwhelming the feminine fabric. Through the years, he’d always dressed well, and today was no exception. His red and gray tie contrasted with the steel color of his silk shirt perfectly. “I’ve been having visions.”

  “I know. Bad ones?” Lily smoothed down her lilac skirt, her mind whirling.

  “Yes. Visions about the peace talks and the importance of obeying Fate.” Guiles ran a hand through his dark hair, leaving it oddly ruffled. “As if we’ve ever disobeyed Fate.”

  Fate had her own agenda, one Lily was beginning to question. Lily straightened her posture. “Can I get you some tea?”

  “No, thank you. Have you had visions?”

  “Yes.” Tears pricked the back of her eyes, and she battled them back. “I actually met Fate. Or a figure claiming to resemble Fate. She was beautiful.”

  Guiles leaned forward, his gaze intense. “You actually met Fate? That’s incredible. What does she want us to do? Did she say?”

  Guilt heated a path down Lily’s throat, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell the full truth. “No. Has she given you direct orders?”