“Of course,” he said, his warmth reaching her even over the counter. “I’m gathering intel and preparing to adapt my strategy. Knowing you is step one.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Step one? What am I, a military coup?”
He grinned. “Yes.”
Speech deserted her for a moment. He was cute…and serious. “What’s step two?” she croaked.
“Well…” He seemed to warm to the subject. “Step two is moving into strategy mode. One establishes a line of communication, builds alliances, and develops a safe base.”
Holy crap. He really was serious. “And the next step?” Her stomach tingled a little.
He studied her. “In a military campaign? The final step is to go on attack and win the objective.”
Her mouth dried up. “I am not an objective.” Now it was a mite insulting.
He didn’t answer.
Well, that was an answer. “Ronan?” She tapped her nice boot on the floor.
“I’ve learned more. You’re kindhearted in many ways. You have a history of giving medical care around the world, often without compensation. You pay your sister’s medical bills and have her stationed at your hospital. The woman who’s been in a coma for two years.”
Grace had missed two whole years of her life and would turn twenty-five in just a few weeks. “I’m going to bring her back,” Faith whispered, her throat clogging, forgetting all about military campaigns. “Can you help?” Immortal blood should have some side benefits.
His eyes softened. “No. Not if her brain doesn’t function,” he said, reaching out to run a knuckle down the side of Faith’s face, his gaze tracking his hand.
The gentle touch slid through her, warming her, igniting every nerve. Her eyes widened on him.
He nodded. “Yes. Us.”
She backed away.
He slowly lowered his hand, his eyes sizzling with green instead of blue. “I will not force you to trust me right now, but—”
The computer dinged.
He paused, gave her a look, and crossed to read the screen. Then he straightened and faced her. “Have you ever been to Chicago? We must leave in an hour.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Faith’s world tilted yet again. “Chicago?” No way was she leaving town. “Um, no.” She kept her voice low and reassuring.
He straightened. “No? What’s wrong with Chicago?”
“Nothing.” She pushed the bowl away. So much for breakfast. “I understand you need to go and hopefully find your family, but I’m remaining here.” Yes, she’d like to stay in touch with him—even study him. Surely he was wrong and there was a way to use his blood to save her sister. To save other people. “We can remain in contact.”
He just studied her, those brilliant eyes revealing nothing.
She fought the urge to shuffle her feet. He was just too appealing, too sexy; she needed some time and distance away from him. To come to grips with this new information that had altered her perception of reality: Vampires existed. “I want you to find your family and friends. I really do.” He’d need help fighting the Kurjans—the fact that they were real nauseated her.
He looked down for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. Then, smoothly, gracefully, he moved around the island and toward her like a jaguar stalking prey from a dangerous ledge. She stepped back instinctively until she stood flush against the counter and had nowhere else to go.
Her breath quickened and her body tensed. Wasn’t he still supposed to be in information-gathering mode? This felt more immediate.
He reached out, sliding one broad hand through her hair to cup her nape. The strength in the gentle move was obvious. “I know this is immense,” he murmured, his eyes a deep blue now, his tone a hoarse rumble. “Probably too much.”
Every nerve she had flared wide awake and on alert. Heat ignited with a low pull in her abdomen.
He stood over her, so wide and warm, strength in every hard-cut line. She swallowed, trying to think. But her gaze rose to his lips, and she lifted her face. His eyes flared and green sizzled through the blue. Then he lowered his head, brushing his mouth across hers.
It was like being burned by a live wire. Her mouth opened on a gasp and he pressed in, his body overwhelming hers with sheer size. Then he kissed her.
Firm and fast and deep. Passion engulfed her, taking her away from every thought she’d ever had. There was only right now and this. Nothing else existed in the universe but his mouth, his body, his hand. Him.
He growled, and the sound vibrated down her throat to land in her abdomen. A pulse set up between her legs, and she became all feeling. Kissing him back, she rose to her toes, pressing against him. Taking all she could get. She flattened her palms against the impossibly hard ridges of his chest, her skin sensitizing as he swept his tongue into her mouth.
It was a penetration she felt throughout her entire body. More than a kiss. More than just a touch. A sound of need came from somewhere inside her. He softened the kiss, the hand at her nape relaxing. Then he slowly released her mouth, lifting back up.
Dazed, she could only look at him. Reality slammed into her with a cold slap. She pushed him, panicking.
He stepped back.
“What was that?” she murmured, her shaking hand moving to her tingling mouth. Where had she gone? What had just happened to her? It was like being drugged.
“We’re mated,” he said simply, taking another step away as if knowing she needed space. “Or we will be.”
Self-preservation kicked in. “Whoa. Okay. Wait a minute.” She was a doctor, for goodness’ sake. Not some fourteen-year-old having a first crush with the cool guy on the football team. Or the intriguing bad boy hanging out behind the bleachers. “Do all vampires kiss like that?” Maybe it was a biological thing.
He blinked. “How should I know?”
“You’ve never kissed one?” Her mind was still fuzzy and she tried to clear it.
“Oh. Did I not mention that vampires are male only? We only make males.” He twisted his lip. “I like women. So, no kissing of other vampires.”
Male only? An entire species? That should not make her knees all wobbly. Darn it. Her knowledge of genetics clashed with this new information. What she wouldn’t give to study a vampire’s blood. “I see.” All right. She cleared her throat. “I need a few minutes.”
He gave a short nod. “That is allowable. You should pack for a week.”
She hadn’t agreed to go with him, but she didn’t mention that fact and instead moved past him to the bedroom. His scent, wildness and woodsy male, followed her. This was beyond insane. Her body felt empty and cold, and a part of her—one she didn’t like much—wanted to turn right back around and tackle him to the ground. She’d seen him naked, and truth be told, he was impressive. But she’d been in doctor mode then. Now she was all woman, and that was a hell of a man.
She shut the door behind her and sagged against it. Okay. What in the world was she going to do now? She’d have to be dead to not want to explore that kind of sexual attraction. He’d nearly brought her to orgasm with one freakin’ kiss.
Her phone buzzed and she leaped for it, thankful for any interruption to her thoughts.
“Cooper,” she said, her voice an octave too high. She cleared her throat. “Dr. Cooper here.”
“Faith, it’s Jordy Wallace.” Excitement filled Jordy’s low voice. “We’ve had a development with Grace. She opened her eyes and tracked movements.”
Faith froze. Jordy Wallace was an excellent neurologist and Grace’s primary doctor. “Are you sure?” Her sister had been in a coma for over two years, and during that time, there had been no change. None.
“Yes. The minute we spotted an improvement, we captured her on a cell phone. I’ll send you the video,” he said. “We already think she’s a miracle.”
Yeah. Grace’s body hadn�
��t broken down during the coma as normally happened. Nobody understood why.
Faith leaned back to watch the screen. Her sister’s eyes opened, which wasn’t uncommon for a coma patient. Then she watched a nurse walk from one end of the room to another. Jordy’s voice was audible, and her sister turned slightly toward where he stood in the room. Then her eyelids shut again.
Jordy came back on the line. “It’s progress, Faith.”
Yeah, it was, astonishing progress. Her mind scrambled. She didn’t believe in coincidence—never had. “Has anybody visited Grace in the last two days?”
“Not that I know of,” Jordy said. “You need to come down here. This is significant.”
Definitely. “Jordy, listen to me. Have you seen anybody…well…odd in the vicinity? Role-playing groups or people just dressed up? Big guys?”
“Of course not. What is going on with you?” Jordy asked. “You’re acting strange.”
That was probably an understatement. Ronan had been with her all morning, so he hadn’t been able to influence her sister’s health. But he had friends and enemies out there. And a whole lot was going on that Faith didn’t understand. “I need your help,” she said.
“Anything,” Jordy answered. They’d been friends since medical school. “What do you need?”
She breathed out. “Security. I was kidnapped the other night, and I’m fine. I’ll tell you all about it when I get there. But please have security meet me at my car, and post them at Grace’s door and along the corridor.” This was definitely not a coincidence, but at the moment, the only thing that mattered was her sister. “Please.”
Jordy was quiet for a moment. “You were kidnapped?”
She brushed hair away from her face, a sense of urgency making her hand tremble. Grace was getting better? Was it possible? Even if this was some sort of crazy immortal trap, she didn’t care. It was time to see her sister. “I’ll be right there.” She clicked off the phone.
Now. What the heck should she do with the vampire in the other room? She bit her lip. He was big and strong…but what was going on? He wasn’t the one who’d helped Grace.
So who had?
She shook her head. Ronan had been adamant that she travel to Chicago with him. Like her, he’d suspect Grace’s recovery was a trap, and he might try to stop Faith from going to the hospital, even though she’d taken precautions.
But this was family, and she’d do anything for her sister. Jordy would have the floor blanketed with security by the time she arrived there. She couldn’t take the risk that Ronan would stop her and kidnap her again.
Quickly writing him a note, she scrambled for her purse. As quietly as she could, she moved to the bedroom window and slid through, wincing as the sticker bushes outside pricked her jeans.
Then she ran for her SUV.
* * * *
Ronan stood beneath the tree by the lake cabin, his gaze on the dirt settling along the road. She’d left him. Jumped out a window and had just taken off. Betrayal cut through him for the briefest of moments before he regained control of himself.
The last day surely had been overwhelming for Faith. She’d learned of vampires, of the Cyst, and of her enhancement.
And he’d kissed her.
If she’d felt half the reaction he had, she was probably frightened and cautious. His body still rioted with a hunger that troubled him. He’d never wanted a woman this badly. The marking on his palm cut deep with a pain that demanded appeasement, and only transferring it to her flesh would ease him.
He’d courted her too strongly and she’d bolted.
Perhaps she’d just gone to town again, needing to be free of him. He rubbed his chest and turned to go back into the cabin. In his healthier days, he could’ve chased down the vehicle and probably caught her before she reached the end of the long, deserted road. But now? He wasn’t even close to being able to do that.
When would his strength return? What if it didn’t? He’d been in the other dimension, the prison shield, for more than a thousand years. Surely that could cause some bodily damage.
What should he do?
He wiped a hand across his eyes and stepped inside, his gaze going to the computer. Think, damn it. Years ago, he would’ve commanded an army. He would’ve been able to find her and make sure she was secure. Now? At the moment, he had nobody. Not even his mate. What if his people hadn’t survived? What if he had no family?
The idea was too painful to contemplate, so he shoved it away. He was a Kayrs. That meant something. Hell. It meant everything. His family would’ve survived somehow. He just needed to find them.
He sat at the computer and reached out to his contact in Chicago, typing quickly.
There has been a delay. I will be in touch soon.
An answer came immediately. No delay. Plane arriving at private airport for you in one hour. Be there or we go dark.
Enough of this. He clicked a couple of buttons and ignited the webcam software. A blank screen came up with his face on a smaller screen in the corner. He typed his message: I am Ronan Kayrs of the Seven, and I demand to see who is there. Face me, you coward.
The screen remained dark. Then slowly, a face took shape. One Ronan did not know. The male had mid-length blond hair and piercing blue eyes. “I’m here. Be careful who you call a coward, asshole,” he said.
Ronan studied him. There was something familiar about the male’s jawline. “Who the fuck are you?”
The male’s left eyebrow rose.
A hammer slammed into Ronan’s gut. He knew that look. “You’re related to Igor. Where is he? I must see him.”
“I’m Ivar.” The male’s chin dropped and his eyes sizzled with a dangerous glow. “Igor is dead. I named a series of bars across the country after him. Igor was my brother.”
Ronan dropped into his seat, pain slashing cold fingers through him. Igor dead? There was one of the deaths he’d felt while in the shield. “He was one of my best friends.” One of the Seven. “I’m sorry to know he passed on.” Jesus. Igor was as tough as they came. “What happened?” Who could’ve killed Igor?
“War happened,” Ivar said simply.
Ronan coughed. War? What all had he missed? “You’ve taken his place?”
“Yes. I survived the ritual and am one of the Seven,” Ivar said.
“Cad iad na Seacht?” Ronan asked quietly, holding his breath.
Ivar studied him for two beats. “Bráithreachas a rinneadh i bhfuil.”
Thank the gods. He knew the code. “Where is everyone else?” Ronan asked. “What’s going on? Has my brother, Quade, returned to this plane? What about my brother, Jacer?” Jacer had been one of the five to remain on this plane and handle the world of humans. “Who else died? I felt it happen.”
Ivar shook his head. “I don’t know you, friend. Yes, you gave the right code. But that doesn’t mean anything. You come here, meet me in person. Prove you are Ronan Kayrs. Then we’ll see.”
He couldn’t just leave Faith.
A ruckus sounded and Ivar’s chair was shoved away. A broad face was lowered to the camera. “Ronan? That you?”
Relief and hope rushed into Ronan so quickly he couldn’t breathe. “Benny?” he asked, leaning toward the computer. “You are alive, my brother.”
Benjamin Reese smiled widely, his rough face transformed. “Ronan. Fuck, man. It’s really you.” He yanked a chair into place and dropped his huge body into it. “I mean, it’s great to see you, but that means the entire system is falling.” He sobered instantly. A sight most people never saw. “We’re in trouble, right?”
Weren’t they always? “Where are my brothers? Either of them?” Ronan looked around for the large black boots Faith had bought for him. “We must begin to plan.”
Benny coughed. “Listen, man. It looks like you and I think you are you, but I can’t be sure until we’re in the s
ame room. Get on the plane and I’ll tell you everything when I see you.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “If you’re you, I mean. If you’re not you, if you’re somebody else, then I’ll have to kill you. Whoever you are.”
Jesus. Benny was still slightly nuts. Or his sense of humor had just skewed to the point of really messing with people. Ronan had never been sure. “I have experienced a delay.”
Benny leaned back. “Define delay.”
“I may have lost my mate,” Ronan said, frowning. “She left me.”
Benny sighed, his metallic eyes sparkling. “You Kayrs men always were terrible with the ladies. No finesse. No charm.”
Ronan growled. His old friend wasn’t helping.
“Does she have a phone?” Benny asked.
Of course she did. Then the question hit home. Ah-ha. Ronan had researched Siri and phones the other night. “Yeah,” he said softly.
“Then you can track her,” Benny said reasonably. “Track her GPS, get her, and be here now. We have work to do.” He clicked off.
Ronan sat back. Good plan. When he caught up to his mate, they were going to have a little talk. He had tried to be reasonable and ease her into this odd new reality. And she’d jumped out a window and run away from him.
This time, he’d try something else.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Faith rushed to her sister’s room, taking a moment to appreciate the security personnel on the floor. Two armed guards had escorted her from her car to the door, and nobody had tried to intervene. She reached the door and moved inside, seeing Jordy near her sister’s head in the small private room. Monitors beeped behind him.
He looked up and grinned. “She’s back out now, but it was real, Faith.”
“How is she scoring on the Glasgow?” Faith asked, moving toward the quiet woman on the bed. Grace’s brown hair curled around her shoulders, and her skin was pale from being inside for two years. “Jordy?”
“Better than last week,” Jordy said cheerfully, his brown eyes earnest. At about thirty and newly married, he was usually in a good mood. And he was brilliant. Faith had requested him to be Grace’s doctor since she couldn’t treat a family member. “I have some rounds to do. Why don’t you stay here and talk to her? See if you can get her to focus. To maybe squeeze your hand.”
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