MistUnveiled

by Nancy Corrigan

  “Trying to avoid my question then?”

  He leaned closer and licked her lips, the bottom then the top, healing her chapped skin and ensuring she couldn’t see his pointed canines.

  “Your superior instructed me to help and watch over you.” He kept his voice low so she wouldn’t hear the slur to his words.

  She tensed. “You lie. Roland doesn’t know I’ve come. Put me down before I start screaming again.”

  Her words said one thing but she made no move to break his hold. In fact, she skimmed her cotton-covered fingertips along his jaw and snuggled closer.

  “Roland knows. He’s worried about you.” Hopefully, she wouldn’t call him on the lie.

  She sighed. “The nosy old man would be.”

  His gamble paid off. “Concerned, not nosy. Do you blame him? A beautiful woman in a remote world with dangerous predators on the loose?”

  “Predators? Do you believe the people who died were victims of vampires too?”

  He silently berated himself for the slip. The term “vampire” wasn’t one he’d apply to the eldjötnar or his species for that matter, but the need for borrowed blood to fuel their bodies mimicked the legend the humans had weaved. Their requirement had simply been an evolutionary means of survival. With few animals in their desolate homes, they could feed without killing their hosts.

  “Wolves.” He latched onto the first natural hunter he could think of. “They’ve been known to attack humans.”

  “I suppose. Roland treats us as the children he never had.” She tipped her head to the side and leveled intelligent eyes on him. “Supernatural or not, the locals seem to think there’s a murderer on the loose. I want to know why they’ve latched on to a myth as an explanation when they know the facts.”

  Surtr and his cursed brethren had been known to murder whenever the mood struck. However, the people from the village who’d died were simply causalities of their careless feeding habits.

  “I’ve lived here my entire life, Cat. The locals believe many things others do not. Let’s go to my home and discuss them.”

  She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’d feel safer talking in the tavern.”

  Safer, yes. For both of them. He took several steps toward the brightly lit bar. “Then let’s get some drinks.”

  “My bag.” She stretched an arm out. “It has my computer. Oh my God, I hope it didn’t break.”

  He snatched the frayed, patched satchel. “It’ll be fine.”

  “It’d better be. It has all my research.”

  He slipped the strap over his shoulder and strode forward.

  “Um, Rune?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why are you still carrying me?”

  Because he enjoyed the feel of her in his arms. Unsure of how she’d respond, he didn’t voice his reason.

  He set her on her feet. “Sorry, I hadn’t realized I was.” He took her hand. She glanced at their linked fingers but didn’t comment. “What type of research is on your computer?”

  The barking of dogs carried over the area. She glanced toward the edge of town, the direction the sound had come. The baying grew louder. “Everything I’ve gathered on UP-33.”

  He frowned.

  “Upernavik 33, the name of the virus that’s responsible for the thirty-three deaths in this village.” A wide grin spread over her face. “I forget sometimes that not everyone knows what I’m talking about. I’d thought that was an easy one, though.”

  They’d name the disease spread by the eldjötnar?

  She tugged on his hand. He fell into step with her. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It flourishes at high temperatures but exposing it to extreme cold doesn’t kill it. In fact, it seems to encourage the virus to mutate. I’ve isolated three new strains already.”

  She shook her head. Wisps of her raven hair brushed against his arm. It sent whipping energy across his skin, but her words chilled his blood.

  “New strains?” Surely that didn’t mean what he suspected.

  She tipped her head back. “Yes, mutation is common in viruses.”

  He had no idea what that meant, but he feared it wouldn’t be good. Encasing the eldjötnar in ice had been a desperate attempt to contain them. As children of fire, they could not die permanently. If killed, they’d eventually reemerge from their element. So too would the children of mist. The exception being the breeders of both species, of course. Those males put their lives in their mortal consorts’ hands. The symbiotic bond they formed kept both halves alive.

  “But I can’t figure out how the virus spreads.” Cat’s words cut through his grim thoughts.

  “I don’t think this virus will—”

  A scream carried over the sound of barking dogs. He inhaled. The pungent odor of disease carried on the breeze. The eldjötnar had left another walking corpse. He’d tracked the fire demon here. For over a week, Rune had searched for him. He hadn’t found any evidence of the eldjötnar. The dying human’s presence changed that.

  Rune swept his gaze over the area. Fine wisps of gray smoke snaked along the ground. The fire demon’s element weaved in rolling waves as if seeking out a new victim. He yanked Cat against his chest so as to hide his scent claim on her, one she would carry for the rest of her life.

  The smoky fingers stilled in their meandering exploration and dissipated, leaving the faint trace of sulfur in the air.

  A low laugh drifted over the wailing of an older woman and the shouts of other humans rushing to help her. It confirmed his suspicion. They’d been found.

  Rune scanned the crowd and the darkened landscape. He didn’t spot the demon. There were too many hiding places. He refused to leave Cat unprotected to search them. Hell, he’d never be able to let her out of his sight. She’d been marked, by both him and his enemy.

  Life or death. Her fate rested in his hands.

  And all I wanted was sex.

  Chapter Three

  Rune dropped to his knees next to the thrashing male. In the last stage of the infection, the human had a few hours left to suffer. Had Rune found the unfortunate victim first, he would have broken his neck and saved him from the worst of the agony. The people gathered around made the mercy killing impossible. Weakened from his self-imposed sleep and the minimal blood he’d consumed, he couldn’t pull off a mass control of the crowd. Even if he could have, Cat’s presence complicated matters.

  He peered at the woman who unknowingly relied on him for protection against the very illness she hoped to cure. The thought of her succumbing to the disease eating away at the male next to him stirred myriad feelings, none he wanted to experience. He should’ve walked away from her when he first saw her. Regret left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  The useless emotion wouldn’t save either of them. The truth remained, one he couldn’t change. Their kiss had sealed their fates. The only thing left to decide was whether he would allow her to grow old and die, or tie them together for all time. No matter which he chose, they were struck with each other. He couldn’t allow her to fall into the eldjötnar’s hands. They’d infect her simply because he’d taken an interest in her.

  And why did I?

  The question bothered him. No answer came to him. The female fascinated him, but he wasn’t the only one captivated by her. The hysterical group gathered around them viewed her as a leader. She shouted instructions that were instantly obeyed. Her steady hands flew over her keyboard while her gaze assessed the dying male and the crowd. Under her direction, order returned.

  Too bad nothing she did would save the male whose insides were dissolving.

  Rune sighed. The cries coming from the poor human and the tears of the female who obviously loved him directed his hand. While he couldn’t ease the victim’s pain, Rune could alter the human’s perception of it, essentially trick him into thinking he wasn’t being liquefied.

  “Stop!”

  Cat’s bellow froze his hand inches from the human’s throat where red welts indicated the demon’s feed
ing site.

  She grasped his wrist and jerked him back. He stumbled under the force of her shove. She fell with him. An arm around her waist, he stopped her tumble onto the rocky ground.

  “What are doing? You can’t touch him.”

  He held her slight frame against him. Her concern, although unnecessary, warmed him. “And why is that? The infection doesn’t spread by contact.”

  She pushed out of his embrace and reached for the supplies the local veterinarian had brought to her. The town doctor had refused to approach the male. She’d cursed at him and taken charge of the situation in his place.

  “Yet. Did you not hear me when I said the virus was mutating?”

  “Yes.”

  She pulled a box free from the bag. “But do you understand what that means?”

  Not exactly, but he suspected it meant it was evolving just as their bodies were. He too felt the changes of the new environment working their way through him. His core temperature had adjusted to the warmer atmosphere. He suspected their powers would alter too.

  She stared expectantly at him. He shrugged in answer.

  She sighed. “Viruses mutate as a means of protection and way to reproduce and thrive. It’s dangerous enough to be breathing the same air. Let’s not take any other chances if we can help it.” She motioned behind her to where the human veterinarian who’d volunteered to help ushered the onlookers back. “None of the locals believe me either, but I will not take unnecessary risks with your life or theirs.”

  She held two purple gloves out to him.

  “I don’t need those.” He was immune to the disease.

  She shook her head, a soft sigh escaping, and took his hand. With her lip caught between her teeth, she maneuvered the stretchy material over his fingers. “Yes, you do. If you’re going to assist me, you follow my orders. Otherwise, you can leave. I don’t need you.”

  He’d beg to differ but didn’t want to get into the discussion as to why. He finished donning the gloves.

  An older male handed Cat a mask. “Thank you, Francis.”

  “You’re quite welcome, Miss Sanders.” Francis grinned.

  Rune fought the urge to yank Cat behind him and hiss at the human. He frowned at the unusual response. Possessiveness wasn’t a reaction he’d ever felt for a female. He, Lyal and Jaron had shared the consorts they’d been saddled with. It had to be the urge to protect Cat that made Rune want to attack the male. He breathed a sigh. The rationalization made sense. She was his obligation. After failing Malin, his last consort, it shouldn’t surprise him to feel the pressure to ensure Cat’s safety.

  “Ugh, I hate these things.” She scowled at the mask but adjusted it over her nose and mouth.

  He didn’t blame her. The cord left a red mark against her pale skin. He lifted his hand to remove it. She waved it away.

  “You too.” Her voice came out muffled. She motioned to the mask Francis held out to him. “Better late than never.”

  Rune mimicked her, slipping the thin string over his head.

  “Good. Come help me.” At the infected victim’s side, she laid out tubes, needles and bandages. “Hold him while I gather samples.”

  He placed one hand on the male’s chest, the other over the site of the bite and unleashed his control. The human calmed. Cat’s movements froze. A frown formed. She glanced from the victim to him. Her gaze darted over his face. He saw the questions in her eyes. She didn’t voice them, however. She dropped her gaze to her task and pulled several vials of blood.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this.” Her low whisper accompanied a shake of her head. “Black. His blood is black.”

  And full of nutrients that would sustain the eldjötnar for months, if not years. If the one who’d infected him had wanted, he could’ve kept the human as a feeding source until it succumbed to death, gorging on the nourishment of the human’s decaying body. The fire demons didn’t, though. According to them, the strength wasn’t worth the bitterness of the blood. They preferred fresh meals.

  Rune sighed. He couldn’t tell Cat the truth. It disgusted him. The knowledge would crush the sympathetic female before him.

  Ivan approached and crouched several feet away, a mask on his face too. “He smells like a rotting corpse.”

  “It was the vampire!” The tearful woman grabbed the innkeeper’s shoulders. “He attacked my husband while he was outside smoking. I saw it all!”

  Murmurs from the crowd turned into shouts.

  “The cursed ones have returned!” A wrinkly woman with cataracts wobbled forward on the arm of the teenage boy Rune had seen at the hotel.

  Francis jumped to his feet, a lithe move for a male of his advanced years. “Irene, hush now, before you frighten Miss Sanders.”

  The wrinkles by Irene’s eyes deepened. “Frighten? Well, she should be. You all should be.” Her steady, accusing gaze skimmed the crowd before settling on Francis. “I told you they’d awoken. You did not believe. Now, do you believe? We are doomed!”

  Rune squinted to bring her blurry image into focus. The effort it took to keep the dying male’s mind quiet sucked precious energy from him. “What are you talking about, woman?”

  The crowd’s cries turned to whispers as if they too waited on her answer.

  She clicked her tongue. “They call it global warming.” Her nose wrinkled. “It’s not. I’ve tried to tell them.” She waved a gnarled hand at the crowd. “Ragnarok is coming.”

  Gasps and curses drifted from the bystanders. A few people blessed themselves and hurried away. Others shook their heads.

  Rune swallowed hard. “What makes you think that?”

  The woman jerked the boy’s arm. He led her closer. “My father passed on the stories of the bringers of Doomsday. Eldjötnar, he called them. Fire-wielding blood-drinkers who would kill the old gods once and for all so they could shape the new world. I didn’t believe him, not until the staff washed up on shore.”

  Rune sucked in a breath, a response he couldn’t stop.

  The older female chuckled. “You know of the old gods then too? Their hoarded treasure has been found.”

  His heart raced. “Where? Where is it?”

  More cackling laughter. “Gone. All gone.”

  He stood and reached for the woman. A shriek tore from the dying male’s chest.

  “Grab him, Rune.”

  He pivoted. Cat and Ivan fought to keep the convulsing human still. Rune knelt and laid a gloved hand on him. He tricked power into him, conscious of those watching. The spasms jerking his body eased. Cat’s pinched brow and the narrowed eyes directed on him suggested she suspected something. Not good, not good at all.

  Finally, the male calmed. Rune broke Cat’s gaze and met Irene’s eyes. “Gone? Where did it go?”

  “To storage? A museum?” She gave a half-shrug. “I don’t know. The scientists took it.”

  “Scientists from what organization?” Cat asked.

  Another shrug. “Doesn’t matter. My father said only the children of the elements could wield them. They’re dead.”

  Not anymore. He was proof. He glanced at Cat. “We must find them.”

  She frowned. “Why? Artifacts won’t help this man or the others dying as we speak.”

  No they wouldn’t, but he couldn’t allow the weapons to fall into the eldjötnar’s hands. He struggled with a possible reason his beautiful scientist would believe. “If there was an ancient culture that had knowledge of this virus, it’s possible they captured their findings.” The tightness of her features eased. He pushed for more. “All avenues must be explored. Maybe they even had a cure.”

  She nibbled her lip. “Unlikely, but much can be learned from the past.” She slid the vials she’d collected into a small box. “After we transport this man to the hospital and try to help him, I’ll contact Roland and see what he can find out.”

  Help him? The only thing that would ease the unfortunate victim was death. Rune wished he could deliver it and give him peace.

  A
bolt of electricity skipped down his arm into the human’s chest.

  The male bucked. A shrill scream escaped. As quickly as it came, it cut off. His body dropped to the ground. His breath escaped in a long, rattling sigh.

  Rune jerked back. Wisps of smoke drifted from the human’s mouth and nose. Rune turned his palm over. Unmarred skin showed but he’d felt the burn. His fingers still tingled.

  “He’s dead.” Cat closed the male’s eyelids.

  Rune stared at the human he’d just killed. His wife threw her body over the lifeless husk. Cat grabbed the woman’s shoulders and pulled her off. She fought to get back to her husband.

  “No! He can’t be dead!”

  “He is.” Cat’s strained voice betrayed her effort to hold her.

  Rune pushed his disbelief aside and took the woman from Cat. He trickled a little of his power into the woman, wary of the act he’d just committed with only a thought. Be calm. Your male is at peace. He will watch over you until the one-god rejoins you.

  The woman slumped in his embrace. She buried her face into his shirt and sobbed. He considered what other words he could offer her for comfort but couldn’t come up with any. He had never grieved anyone’s death, including his chosen consort Malin’s.

  Cat knelt next to them and rubbed the female’s back. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I understand.”

  The woman yanked herself from his arms and glared at Cat. “No, you do not. My husband…” She motioned to the dead human’s body. “He suffered. Horribly!”

  “But I do know. My sister died of this virus also. I found her body. She died alone.” A single tear rolled down Cat’s cheek. “I hurt too.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. She opened her arms. The two females hugged each and cried. Rune watched them share their pain for a moment. Unable to bear it with them, he stepped around them and helped Francis maneuver the eldjötnar’s victim onto a stretcher.

  “The body will be cremated immediately, but I don’t like the idea of covering his death up.”

  Rune glanced at Francis. “What do you mean?”