Fated (16 page)

“Can you sense any Kurjans around us?” Bigsby hissed.

Katie shook her head. “They must’ve taken off when the cops arrived.” She turned a relieved grin at Cara as they sped into the darkness. “Nice plan.”

Cara swallowed as the soft moonlight played across their faces. They weren’t home yet, and the biggest threat most likely would be meeting her there. “Yeah,” she agreed somberly.

Katie shrugged. “I had hoped we’d make it home before they did, but I forgot Talen could track you. How mad can they be? We got Bigsby and didn’t fire a shot.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Cara asked wryly.

“Both of us,” Katie answered quietly.

They rode for several miles in silence, all lost in their own
thoughts. As they turned from the highway onto the smaller country road, Katie tensed.

“What?” Cara asked, peering outside.

Katie was quiet for a moment; her head lifted as she thought. “Nothing, I guess.” She shrugged. “Wild imagination.”

Cara relaxed back in her seat as the blur of trees flashed by outside. “It has been a crazy night.”

Katie nodded and then cried out as an explosion ripped through the air. The truck veered to the left with a high-pitched squeal. She struggled and righted the large vehicle only to have three more explosions impact the tires in rapid succession. The truck careened wildly until slamming headfirst into an ancient pine tree.

Cara screamed as she was thrown into her seat belt before the airbag slammed her back against the seat, knocking the breath out of her lungs. The bag deflated with a dusty cough. An odd tingeing of branches dropping onto metal filled the air.

She turned wide eyes on Katie, whose mouth formed a perfect O. “The trap wasn’t at the diner.”

Q
uiet pressed in on the truck with a dangerous beat. Her breath panting out, Cara peered into the barely illuminated light for any sign of movement. All was still on the deserted roadway.

“I can sense them.” Katie ripped off her seat belt. “There are at least five.”

“Damn it.” Cara removed her belt and grabbed both of her guns before turning to check on Bigsby.

“I’m fine,” the doctor said wearily as he too undid his seat belt. After a thoughtful moment, Cara handed him one of her guns. He nodded in response and turned toward the night. Terror and determination flowed from him in strong waves, and she concentrated on blocking both.

“So, we weren’t so clever, huh?” Cara asked softly.

“Nope.” Katie’s eyes swirled to a lighter brown. “I’m stronger if I change.”

“But they’ll know about you.” Thoughts zinged through Cara’s brain. “Let’s use the guns, then if you need, you can shift and—”

A figure appeared outside the vehicle and ripped her door off the hinges. She cried out and reached for Katie, but rough hands ripped her from the car. Her scream turned silent as she looked into evil purple eyes. Raw, dark rage emanated from him, and she struggled to yank shields into place.

Yellow teeth gleamed as the Kurjan dragged her onto the road before leaning in to sniff her neck. “She’s mated,” he growled over his shoulder at the Kurjan dragging Katie and the doctor toward them. Cara started to struggle against the strong hands holding her. She had dropped the gun when he’d pulled her from the truck, and her mind worked furiously to come up with an escape.

The Kurjan soldier gave her a sharp shake. “Stop.”

Cara looked in desperation at Katie, who stood with one Kurjan while the other held the doctor. The moon shone down on a quiet scene made for love—not blood. Dressed in all black from their boots to thick vests, the Kurjans had various weapons tucked throughout. Their thick hair glowed an unearthly red in the soft light.

Another Kurjan strolled out of the forest to stop before Cara. He stood taller, broader than the others, and two metallic red bars decorated his shoulders. He shot out a sharp nail against her chin and tugged her head up to face him.

“I’m Lorcan.” His voice resonated through the night, and Cara struggled not to cringe away. “You were to be my mate, Cara.”

She stared in surprise at his use of her name, and then fury washed over her. “I guess you’re too late, asshole.”

The claw under her neck sliced the delicate skin. Sharp pain lanced through her followed by pure terror. He forced her face farther up, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

“Not necessarily, human. Our scientists have been working on more than our aversion to the sun.” He stepped back and put his red finger into his mouth. “Delicious.”

Cara’s stomach revolted. Strong hunger, dark and evil, slammed against her shields, staining her. She stamped down the bile rising in her throat.

“Where’s your daughter?” He stepped closer and almost gently scraped the same overly long fingernail down the side
of her face. The Kurjan behind her prevented her from backing up, so Cara could only stand there and glare.

Bigsby began to struggle and the soldier holding him brought an elbow down on his neck, sending the scientist sprawling to the ground. Unconscious.

Cara peered at Bigsby, sighing in relief when the man’s chest moved as he breathed. He was still alive. “You’ll never find my daughter.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Katie pivoting to stand between two of the Kurjan soldiers.

Lorcan smiled sharp yellowed teeth at her. “We’ll see about that. The lives of our oracles depend on their being correct about the future. They always are.”

Cara kept her face calm as Katie gave a signal and tossed a green gun her way. Then the air started to shimmer around the young woman.

“Fuck,” the nearest Kurjan bellowed as a force of air blew him back several feet. He landed with a sharp thud on the dark asphalt. The other Kurjan went down to all fours as a mountain lion stood over shredded clothes where Katie had been. She wasted no time in going for his throat.

Cara caught the gun and fired into Lorcan’s chest, throwing him back several feet. She turned to run, only to have the Kurjan behind her wrap both arms around her, effectively immobilizing her. She kept her wide gaze on Lorcan as he struggled to regain his balance, which happened sooner than she would have liked. With a fierce roar that raised the hair on the back of her neck, he rushed forward and wrapped one bony hand around her throat. He squeezed, cutting off her air supply. Her eyes watered and her lungs clenched. He nodded to the monster holding her. “Go take care of the shifter.”

Cara’s arms fell uselessly at her side. Her vision going grey, she swayed toward her enemy. Lorcan lowered his face to an inch of hers, his foul breath washing over her mouth as he spoke, “Breaking you shall be enjoyable.”

A sharp feline yelp pierced the night followed by a furious howl miles away.

Awareness hit her as she realized she still held the gun. She lifted and pulled the trigger. Lorcan released her and fell back two steps. The air started burning down her throat to her screaming lungs and she gulped it in. A murky haze still clouded her vision, but her hand kept firing at the monster in front of her.

Lorcan fell back with a shrill howl. Then he leapt to the left and lifted Bigsby’s limp body off the ground to use as a shield. With a sob of fury, Cara stopped firing and searched for a way out. Katie lay unconscious in naked human form with a decapitated Kurjan next to her. The Kurjan soldier thrown by the blast still lay prone several yards up the road. He slowly climbed to his feet and started prowling toward them.

The one who had bound Cara stood over Katie and deliberately placed his booted foot on the back of her neck, pressing her face into the rough asphalt.

Lorcan gave a high-pitched hiss. “Drop the gun, or I’ll have him crush her neck. Even a male shifter wouldn’t heal from that, Cara.” He continued to hold an unconscious Bigsby in front of him.

With one last desperate look around, Cara dropped the gun at her feet.

“Kick it over to me.” Lorcan’s fangs flashed bright and dangerous.

Shivering in the damp night, Cara kicked him the gun.

“Cara,” Lorcan spoke softly, “watch what happens when you challenge me.” With a dark gleam, he lifted Bigsby’s body a foot off the ground, latched his fangs into the doctor’s neck, and began to drink with sharp pulls. His eyes darkened to black, then swirled to red.

“No,” Cara cried as she started forward, only to have the returning Kurjan grab her by the hair and tug her back. She struggled as Bigsby’s color turned from a healthy flush to pasty white. Until his blood was drained. His eyes remained shut until Lorcan gave an unconcerned shrug and dropped
him to the ground. Lorcan shot his tongue out to lick the red liquid off his stained lips.

He took a step toward her. “You tasted better.”

A grey fog descended across her vision, and she began to sway. A roar sounded, the Kurjan holding her was ripped away and the ground rose up to meet her. The last thing she saw before succumbing to blackness was Talen, his eyes a wild green, his face a feral mask, and his fangs covered in blood.

Talen hadn’t truly felt fear in centuries and thought furiously that he didn’t like it. He swiftly ripped the head off the Kurjan who had dared to touch his mate. Then he lunged toward Lorcan, taking the leader to the ground in a crunch of bone. Blood splayed by his hand before two soldiers tore him away.

Throwing elbows, he knocked them back and turned. They both jumped for him. He stopped the younger one in midflight with a mere thought. But he allowed the second one to tackle him to the ground. So he could feel the warm blood of his enemy. He vaguely heard Jordan roar into the clearing.

His knife flashed out, sharp and wicked. Deep red blood coated the asphalt while the Kurjan’s head rolled away from its body. Talen rose, his gaze on Lorcan, his canines elongating until the animal within hungered.

The one he’d froze broke loose with a shrill shriek of anger and rushed him in a crushing tackle. They hit the road, leaving a bowl-shaped dent in the hard surface. Talen shot an elbow into the soldier’s windpipe and rolled until he straddled the struggling enemy. One swift slice through the neck and the struggles stopped.

Talen stood, fury filling his pores at the now empty roadway. Lorcan had disappeared. The strong urge to hunt warred with the need to take his mate to safety. As always would be the case, his mate came first.

T
he last woman hadn’t died easy. Kalin wasn’t sure why, but he liked that about her. Nothing special, no extra abilities, surely not someone he could take back to camp. Yet, she fought death like an animal.

Yet in the end, she’d taken her last breath. Even her God wouldn’t save her, further proof of the damnation of this silly, easy prey. The thick trees had provided canopy from the bright moon in the quiet forest, with no life shuffling around. Nothing in the wild was as deadly as him.

He wondered when the sport would become exciting again. When the thrill would return. Possibly not for decades, when he finally met
her.
Janie. So far away, yet a blink of an eye to his people.

The fall Minnesota nights had cooled to a comfortable temperature. He buried the shovel with his latest prey, kicking the remaining foot of dirt around. Rolling his neck, he surveyed the area, making sure he’d cleaned up. Then, with a glance at the waning moon, he began to jog for home, his thoughts on his future mate. He’d tried repeatedly to enter Janie’s dreams but bounced against something strong each time; somebody else was there, somebody who probably didn’t even know they blocked him.

Kalin had little interest in the young Janie at this time, but
the other presence, a dangerous, still developing presence, well that was interesting.

Still wondering about the new player, Kalin scaled the rock wall and dodged inside the obscured cave entrance before pressing his palm against speckled rock. The wall slid open, revealing a large elevator which he rode down into the earth. He ignored the sentries posted on either side as he emerged and strolled across plush carpet to his father’s quarters.

Three human women exited just as he reached the door. Pale, trembling, reeking of sulfuric fear, they kept their eyes lowered while passing him. He inhaled deep, swiveling to spot the red oozing out of one thin neck. Copper and sweet temptation filled his nostrils. His father had been feeding.

Grinning, Kalin strutted through the door. Muted light, ivory carpet, and thick oak paneling showed class and elegance while stark black, red, and white paintings adorned the walls. Scenes of blood and twisted death. If nothing else, his father truly had excellent taste in art.

“Father?” he called, moving toward the small kitchen to the left.

“Here,” Lorcan returned in a low growl.

Kalin stopped short at the sight of his father bleeding over the oak table. “I take it the plan did not go well?” They should’ve let him go.

Lorcan hissed, pressing a blood-soaked towel to his neck. “No. Bastard damn near ripped out my jugular and the helicopter ride home took forever. It’s taking me forever to heal.” He ran appraising reddish-purple eyes over his son. “Where the hell have you been?”

Kalin shrugged, reaching for the tin of cookies in the cupboard, specially made in London. “Out.”

Throwing the drenched towel into the sink, Lorcan ripped off the remainder of a tattered sleeve, revealing several breaks in his left arm. “I can’t wait until you finish with puberty; this is getting tiresome.” His eyelids closed, and he took a deep breath, the bones snapping back into place with
a sharp crack. His eyes swirled purple through the red when he reopened them. “Did you cover your tracks?”

“Of course.” His father’s failure irritated Kalin. He’d looked forward to meeting Janie’s mother, maybe of having her. “I take it one of the Kayrs showed up?”

“Yes. Talen Kayrs. Along with a clan of shifters.” Lorcan rubbed his chin. “I can only hope cousin Franco doesn’t hear of the disaster.”

“You think he’ll challenge you for the throne?” Kalin munched on a cookie, wondering if he’d be the one to eventually kill his father for the title.