“I don’t give a fuck,” Talen said evenly, green sizzling through the golden hue in his eyes. “Now the two who were supposed to guard him, our ancestors, are back here. So I’m guessing this guy is going to return, too, and I want to know everything about him so we’re ready to fight when he arrives.”
Benny sighed. “You already know what we know. His name is Ulric, he’s the ultimate Cyst, and he violated the laws first by making his entire body impenetrable. He did so by killing and using the blood of more than one hundred enhanced females. He wants all such women and girls dead, which is why we banished him. I think the Kurjans plan to save only the ones they want.” His hypothesis made sense—although he was missing something. He’d always felt that.
“Is he back?” Dage asked.
Benny shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Tell me about the final ritual,” Dage said, his chin down.
Garrett didn’t flinch or look away from his uncle. “The final ritual involves the members of the Seven, the three female Keys, and a location we haven’t yet found. It’s where we kill Ulric, by using the blood of the Keys. That’s all I know.”
Not true. Benny tried to look casual. Garrett had left out the most important part of the story: that little Hope Kayrs-Kyllwood was the Lock. Something none of them understood. She was the only female vampire to have ever existed. Considering she was Talen’s granddaughter, his only one, telling him the full truth would make enemies of the Realm and the Seven. For sure.
Of course, Benny would trust Garrett with his life, but not with Hope’s destiny if the girl was meant to be a sacrifice. The soldier definitely had his own motives for joining the Seven. That showdown was probably coming soon.
Dage studied them. “What aren’t you saying?”
Garrett shrugged. “Nothing. You either trust me or you don’t.”
Nicely done. Benny relaxed. The kid could play poker with the best of them, and he also knew when to count on family. “I notice the demon leader isn’t here right now.”
Tension and power emanated from Dage as he spoke. “The demon nation is in peril. Half of them want to withdraw from the Realm because of you degenerates, and the other half want to stay in. Zane is juggling as much as I am right now.”
Zane was the leader of the demon nation, and his youngest brother, Logan, was a member of the Seven.
Benny sighed.
“Exactly,” Talen agreed grimly.
* * * *
Karma sat on a very soft blanket on the examination table, her legs dangling off the end, safely covered by her long skirt. The news had made her lungs seize as if she’d been trapped in a basement. The world closed in, but she kept her expression placid. Her stomach cramped. Emma was the queen? Why would a queen be wearing worn clothing and working after midnight? Did she have such a compulsion to cause pain that she couldn’t sleep?
The queen tapped on her tablet and then pulled a chair closer, sitting and resting the tablet on her lap. “If you consent, I’d like to ask you questions and then take some blood. I’ve never met a Kurjan Soti, or mate, and I’ve never studied the blood of one.” Her eyes gleamed.
Karma fought a shiver. What sort of game was this? She studied the female, acutely aware of the two armed guards against the far exit.
The queen sat back, studying her. “You have every right to refuse, but I’m hoping you won’t. I’m so close to finding a cure to many human diseases, and every iota of information helps.”
Karma’s mouth opened slightly, and she shut it instantly. This did not make sense. Why the falsehood?
The queen tilted her head. “Are you all right?” Concern softened her voice.
Karma tried very hard not to move. This was a trick, and she couldn’t be taken in by it. Or was she supposed to? Were the Kurjans watching yet? She couldn’t tell. “I am fine. Please commence your tests.” Were the Realm soldiers going to witness her humiliation and pain? She wouldn’t scream or cry, so they would be disappointed.
The queen pursed her lips. “I thought we’d talk, but I can take blood first if you’re worried about it. A lot of people don’t like needles. Benny is terrified of them, although he puts up a good show of being irritated instead.” She chuckled and walked gracefully to the counter, opening a drawer and taking out a kit. Then she approached. “Are you sure you don’t mind doing this tonight?”
Karma turned and looked at her. “Would that matter?” She failed to keep the desperation from her voice.
The queen retreated a step. “Of course it would matter. It does matter.” She pushed the kit across the counter and returned to sit on her chair. “I’m not an empath, but I can feel that you’re frightened even though you hide it well.”
Was that the test? Had Karma passed it? She waited for the next move.
The queen frowned. “I know we’ve just met, but you can talk to me.”
Karma kept her hands together. “What do you wish to discuss, Your Royal Highness?” Her tone remained neutral.
The queen chortled. “Your Royal Highness? For goodness’ sake, please do not say anything of the sort in front of my mate or his brothers. I’d never live it down, and I have enough nicknames, thank you very much.”
Nicknames? Karma looked at the soldiers and then the female. “Then how are you addressed?”
The queen sighed. “Please, call me Emma.” She also looked at the soldiers. “Hey, guys? Would you please guard my precious body from the other side of the door? We want some girl time here. Grumpy Gus confirmed that Karma doesn’t have weapons of any kind on her body.”
Girl time? Was that when the needles came out? So the queen wasn’t worried about Karma fighting back if the soldiers were out of the room? “Are you trained that well, Your…Emma?”
The soldiers instantly exited through the double doors, which shut quietly.
“Trained? What do you mean?” Emma asked.
It felt odd being up on the table while the queen sat on the chair a foot or so below. “Do you think I’ll be that easy to subdue?” Karma had never trained to fight, but even a trapped kitten could claw deep enough to draw blood.
Emma took in a breath and then exhaled slowly. She held up her hands. “All right. I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”
Karma frowned before she could stop herself. What in the world did that mean? “The wrong foot?”
Emma pressed her hands on her jeans. “It’s an idiom. Okay. I hope you don’t believe the guys when they complain about me chasing them with syringes. They’re all just a bunch of babies.”