Page 36

Lyrica finished pouring water into the large coffeepot, glancing over her shoulder at the worried females behind her. They’d been drinking coffee all morning, so at least the coffee was safe. The women scattered around the room, chatting quietly, playing board games, or gathering near the pool table in small, tense groups. Though they moved as if calm, an undeniable tension thi ckened the air.

All of the unmated women and more than twenty Kurjan mates filled the lodge now. More arrived sporadically as the few functioning soldiers continued escorting females to safety. Those soldiers, however, looked worse with eac h passing hour.

Lyrica nodded at Genevieve, who handed out bottled water, before heading toward the office where Vero leaned against the doorframe, a grim expression on his face. His shoulders carried the weight of too much responsibility.

“What do you think?” she asked, her voice low.

Knives and guns strapped to his body made him look every inch a war-hardened soldier. “We’re in trouble,” he said, his tone even but heavy. “Guards are posted at every entrance, and soldiers are patrolling the territory, but they’re moving at half speed. Too many have collapsed.” He paused, glancing back toward the main room. “I’ve requested backup f rom the Realm.”

Her stomach churned. “Is tha t a good idea?”

“It’s all I’ve got.” His sharp blue eyes met hers. “I’ve ordered Realm forces to stick to the outer perimeter and stay out of the main territory. My gut says whoever did this doesn’t have the numbers to stage a full attack. This isn’t a rival nation movi ng against us.”

“Unless it’s the Realm itself,” she murmured, the words slipping out before she c ould stop them.

“I spoke to Paxton and believe the Realm hasn’t moved against us,” Vero said, his tone firm and leaving no room for doubt. “Hope is the heir to everything in the Realm—they wouldn’t att ack their own.”

Lyrica’s brow furrowed as unease swirled in her chest. “But if it’s an organized group tryi ng to hurt us?”

Vero’s jaw tightened. “Displaced Kurjans who don’t like Paxton taking the throne is the most likely answer. There are scattered factions of them across the world. If they’ve managed to organize, t hey’ll attack.”

“And if they have?” She forced herself to breathe evenly.

“I hope the Realm ar rives quickly.”

The room around her seemed to blur as the weight of his words pressed against her chest. Losing the Kurjan nation felt unthinkable. “This…virus or whatever it is—” Her voice broke slightly, but she steadied it. “You’re immortal. You can’t die from something like this, can you?”

Power radiated from him. “Normally, no. But there has been a virus or two through the millennia that have harmed immortals. It’s possible somebody create d another one.”

Lyrica’s mind struggled to process the implications. “This does n’t feel real.”

Vero’s lips pressed into a tight line. “It’s hard to grasp. Fizzlewick is testing the Sunshine Cure right now. I think somebody contaminated it, and I’m fine since I have demon blood in me.” His voice lowered to a growl. “Fizzlewick doesn’t take the cure. So at least our doct or is upright.”

Her chest tightened. “So you’re sure that someone did this deliberately.”

“Fairly.” His expression hardened, his voice like steel. “Either this virus is designed to kill us, or it’s meant to weaken us for an attack—the night befo re our summit.”

Her breath caught as his grim words settled like stones in her stomach. She glanced toward the women in the main room, their pale faces showing resolve despite the tension. “ What do we do?”

“We stay ready,” he said, his voice sharp with command. “I’ve got guards posted at every door. If someone gets too sick, they’re replaced. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best we can do right now.”

She nodded, her heart pounding. “All right. We’ve only been eating unopened packaged food. I guess we can eat th e perishables.”

“No. Just in case, don’t eat anything that has been opened,” Vero said, his tone softening. “Stay inside. The guards may not be perfect, but they’re stationed everywhere.” He rubbed his knuckles across her cheekbone, making her skin tingle. “I need to check on the outlying families and will return soon.” His phone buzzed and he looked down at the face before lifting it to his ear, turning, and walking toward the door. “Hi, Paxton. Tell me the Real m is in place.”

Lyrica watched him step outside and then shook herself. Her outward composure remained steady, though her mind raced. She moved through the room, spending time trying to reassure many of the women. Reaching the kitchen, she looked back at Silas across the room, who appeared ready to fall to his butt again. “I’ll g et more water.”

He nodded, h is eyes glassy.

She opened the door to the warm space and headed toward the pantry, her thoughts circling back to Vero’s words. If this virus truly targeted Kurjans, it meant someone had declared war—on the entire nation.

The aroma of the pecan pastries created earlier by the chef before he’d taken ill lingered in the air, their sweet scent clinging despite the tension surrounding the lodge. Lyrica’s stomach growled. She’d already thrown out the treats just in case.

The sudden creak of the side door startled her. She turned as Jonathan stumbled in, his movements sha ky and erratic.

“Jonathan, you look terrible.” She grabbed one of the chairs by the tall counter and pushed it toward h im. “Sit down.”

“No.” His voice rasped as he grabbed her arm, his grip stronger than expected. “We ha ve to go. Now.”

She pulled against his hold, noting the pale cast of his skin and the unnatural glow of blue veins beneath the surface. “You’re feverish. Have you been to s ee the doctor?”

“Come on,” he insisted, his body trembling as he tried to pull her toward the door. “We’r e leaving now.”

“No,” she said firmly, planting her feet. “You’re not thinking clearly. Stop.”

He groaned and wiped a hand down his face, looking at her with desperation in his fevered eyes. “You don’t understand ,” he muttered.

Reaching up, she touched his forehead, the heat radiating from him burning her palm. She yanked her hand back. “Holy crap, you’ re burning up.”

Jonathan’s chest heaved as he grabbed her with more force. “I’m not going to argue with you,” he said, his voice rough and breaking. He lifted her, groaning as he carried her t oward the door.

She screamed. A crash sounded from the other room. Had Sil as just fallen?

Panic spiked through her, making her struggle harder. Jonathan’s hands only touched her shirt, so he wasn’t risking the allergy. “Jonathan, what are you doing ? Put me down.”

The icy wind slapped her face as he pushed through the door and into the frigid air. Snow had stopped falling, but the bitter wind burned with every gust. A UTV rumbled nearby, and she scanned the area frantically, her eyes widening at the sight of two guards lying unconscious in the snow. Dark streaks of blood painted the groun d beneath them.

She sucked in air to scream, and he jerked her head back with enough force that she felt dizzy. His steps faltered, and his head shook. “Stop fighting me,” he sputtered, dragging her across the icy ground.

Her stomach twisted as realization hit. “Did you knock out those guards? Are you one of the Defenders?” she asked, her voice trembling with equal parts fury and fear.

He turned to her, his expression crumbling. This close she could see blood pooling above his ear. He’d fought the guards? “Just g et in the UTV.”

Yanking open the door, he shoved her inside. She fought to push herself back out, but he reached across her, securing the seat belt tightly over her arms and chest. With a swift motion, he jammed a knife into the lever, preventing her from unbuckling it.

“Hold still,” he growled before slamming the door shut and stumbling around the vehicle to enter the driver’s side.

Her heart raced as she tugged against the seat belt, fury and terror battling for dominance. “Jonathan, I can’t believe this is you. You’re supposed to be a nice guy.”

He grunted as he started the engine, his knuckles white on the wheel. “I did get kicked in the head,” he muttered, leaning heavily against the seat. He pressed the gas pedal, and soon they zipped through the main hub and into the forest. “Ju st hold still.”

“Let me loose.” She fought against the restraints, terr or filling her.

A flash of movement caught her eye just before a snowmobile zipped out from the forest, cutting directly in front of them. Jonathan cursed and yanked the wheel hard. The UTV spun out, the back end crashing into a tree. Her head whipped back, the impact jarring her spine as stars exploded behi nd her eyelids.

Darkness threatened to pull her under, but the sound of a door being ripped open brought her back. Bitter cold flooded the cabin, and she blinked several times, trying to clear her dazed mind. Lukas stood there, his e xpression grim.

“I told you, Jonathan. You can’t take her,” Lukas said, his voice low but fierce.

Jonathan groaned as Lukas yanked him out of the driver’s seat and slammed a fist into his jaw. The force sent Jonathan stumbling, but he swung back, landing a weak punch against Lukas’s shoulder. Lukas growled and struck again, this time knocking Jonathan to the ground.

“Lukas,” Lyrica shouted, struggling against the seat b elt. “Help me!”

“Just a second,” he said through gritted teeth, crouching to deliver another blow to Jonathan’s already bloodied face.

Jonathan slumped into the s now, unmoving.

Lukas wiped his knuckles on his pants before climbing into the UTV and reaching for the controls. “Are you okay?” he asked, his gaze briefl y meeting hers.

“No,” she snapped. “I can’t believe this was Jonathan.”

Lukas’s face tightened as he reversed the vehicle, maneuvering it back onto the icy trail. “I know,” he said grimly. “But we have to move.”

Her pulse raced as she studied him. Something felt off. “Lukas, you need to turn the vehicle around,” she said, he r voice rising.

He didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the path ahead.

“Lukas,” she repeated, sha rper this time.

When he glanced her way, the chill in his expression made her stomach drop. “Wait a minute,” she murmured, her gaze narrowing. “You’re not sick. You knocked Jonathan out without any trouble. You look…healthy.”

“Of course I’m healthy,” he said, a mocking edge in his tone. “Do you honestly think I’d let them inject me with the conta minated virus?”

Silence crashed between them. She stared, disbelief warring with horror. “Lukas,” she whispered. “No. It can’t be you.”

His lips twisted into a smirk. “Why not? Because I’m seventeen? Because I have a thing for Gene vieve? Please.”

Her chest heaved as she tried to process his words. “This has to be some kind of sick joke.”

“Genevieve’s a stupid girl,” he said, the disdain in his voice cutting like a blade. “But she made for a good cover.”

Her mind reeled. “Oh my God. You’re one of the Defenders.”

He chuckled, the sound dark and twisted. “Stupid fucking name, isn’t it? I don’t know who came up with that, but yeah. I proudly wear the symbol on my chest. The circle symbolizes the organized powers in our world, and the three slashes are us…tearing it all dow n with blades.”

Her breath came in shallow gasps. “Lukas, this isn’t you . It can’t be.”

He glanced at her, his grin widening to reveal his fangs. “Oh, it’s me,” he said, the glint in his eyes pure malice. “I fak ed being sick.”

It was too much to take in. “So Jonathan was trying to save me,” Lyrica said, her v oice trembling.

“Yeah,” Lukas replied, his tone indifferent. “He figured out who I was. We fought. He got to you before I could.” Shaking his head, he added, “The guy has a fever of about 125, though. Wasn’t thinking clearly. Obviously. Should’ve gone to find Vero.”

Lyrica’s breaths came quick and shallow as she struggled against the restraints. Her gaze darted to the knife stuck in the seat b elt connection.

Lukas noticed and glanced down at it, his mouth curving into a cold smirk. “Huh. He did a good job with that.”

“You have to let me go,” she demanded, trying to keep the fear from her voice. “You can’t do this.”

“Of course I can,” he said, his tone mockingly cheerful. “In fact, I’ll rather enjoy doing this.” His eyes gleamed with something da rk and twisted.

She shrank away from him, leaning as far as the seat belt allowed. “Wait a minute. You’re the one who’s been attacking human females.” Her voice faltered as the horrifying realizat ion took shape.

“Oh yeah. I took that task on myself.” He shifted his grip on the wheel. “We were just supposed to kill a couple to make Paxton look weak, like he couldn’t protect his territory, while we waited for the virus t o take effect.”

Her stomach churned. “The sexual assaults?” she whispered, bile rising in her throat.

“That was for fun,” he said casually, as if discussi ng the weather.

She turned her face away, the nausea overwhelming her. She clenched her eyes shut. “Oh God,” she gasped, swallowing hard to keep from throwing up. “How many of you are there in your little group? Five of you are dead. Are there only six?” she forced out, desperation la cing her words.

“Four are dead,” Lukas corrected smugly. “Coron is still alive in the cells underground. I’ll spring him once everyone dies.”

Her chest tightened, her lungs struggling to draw in air. “You think the virus will kill everyone?”

“We hope.” He turned the UTV toward the river. “Don’t know, really.”

Her pulse hammered in her ears. “What’s in the virus?”

“I have no idea. Not my purview. I just cause chaos, and now we just need to wait to see if everyone dies. It looks good so far.” He grinned, a predator toying with his prey. “For now, you and I are going to have some fun.”

The UTV rumbled to a halt in front of a sweet-looking, newly constructed A-frame cabin nestled near the river. Snow clung to its sloped roof, and icicles dangled from the eaves, glittering in the cold light. Lyrica’s heart plummeted as Lukas turned to face her, his grin widening.