She yelped and sat up, fumbling for the light. “How did you know?”
“Disturbance in the air.” Man, he looked huge against her wall. Big and dangerous. His eyes narrowed. “Why is your nose red?”
She coughed. “No reason.”
He was at her side in a second, smoothing her hair back. “You have a fever.” Concern glowed in his eyes, and he drew her covers up to her neck. “Hope. I thought you were done getting sick.” He wiped his knuckles across her cheekbone. “How are you feeling?”
She looked up at him, her body alive again. “Really confused, Pax.” So darn confused. What now?
Chapter Thirty-One
“Get up,” a male voice bellowed. “Roll call in twenty.”
Drake rolled from his bunk, wincing at the cut on his wrist that refused to heal. He sent more healing cells there and quickly donned his uniform before taking care of business in the bunk’s restroom. Then he loped between the tents to the central hub, where his dad was staring at a satellite feed. “Morning, Father.”
Dayne looked over his shoulder. “Morning. Rumor has it you did a good job on the raid yesterday. Nearly decapitated a shifter.”
Drake shrugged and drew out a chair. “Nearly isn’t good enough, now is it?”
“No.” Dayne looked back at the satellite feed. “We got a bead on the woman as well as Kayrs, but we couldn’t get to them.”
A servant, one of the few allowed to travel with attack units, deposited coffee and mugs on the table. Drake waited, but she didn’t add any sweetener. Man, he missed Karma sometimes. She’d been kind and sweet and had always remembered the little things. There was no way she was happy with a vampire-demon hybrid. When he got the chance, after the dust settled, he’d go rescue her and bring her home. “You weren’t expecting to be able to take them.”
Dayne reached over and poured two mugs, his gaze remaining on the screen as the bears started to repair their territory. “No.”
The cut on his hand finally healed. Drake took a mug and swallowed the hot brew. “Did it work? Did we flush them out?”
“Too early to tell,” Dayne said.
The flap opened, revealing a gray and dismal Seattle day. General Jaydon strode inside, his neck bruised from a fight with three shifters the night before. His white braid still held a tinge of blood. “Well? Did we get the woman out of there? Honor. Even her name is perfect.”
Yeah, it was a good name. “Nothing yet,” Drake said, sparing his father the nuisance of answering twice. “I don’t see the rush to grab her or any of these other women you keep seeking, General. Our great leader Ulric might not return home for a century.” Man, Yvonne, Ulric’s Intended, would be pissed. Well, she’d be dead by then. So maybe not.
Jaydon’s eyes swirled deep red through the purple. “I don’t answer to you, young one.”
Dayne shot him a look.
Drake didn’t twitch. “Actually, the Cyst do answer to us, since we’re the ones collecting Enhanced women for you.” Drake kept his voice civil. “I saw one the other day who looked terrified, fearing for her safety and her future. That was not part of the deal. We help you, and you take care of them.” He didn’t have the juice to take out the general yet, but he was getting there. Did the asshole know that?
“I do take care of them,” Jayden snarled. “For now, just do your job. I’ll make sure the three we have here are safely escorted to their new home. I assure you that a life of luxury awaits them there.”
“It had better,” Drake said softly, knowing full well he was threatening somebody he shouldn’t threaten at this time. “Where is this paradise you talk about?” It pissed him off that the Cyst had secret holdings.
“None of your business,” Jaydon muttered.
That wasn’t going to do, but Drake would wait to speak with his father later. It was time to rebuild, and he was done taking orders from the Cyst.
Jaydon growled, and the floor vibrated. “Speaking of your job, have you accomplished anything?”
Drake still tasted Hope’s sweet mouth, and his hard-on might kill him. “Yes. Hope doesn’t understand our people or our reasons, but she trusts me.” With good reason. He’d protect her.
Jaydon drew out a chair and settled his substantial bulk into it. “I want that woman. Honor McDoval. She’s special.”
Drake stiffened. “Why?”
“It’s time I mated,” the general said easily. “The power she has—I want it.” He flattened his massive hands on the table. “Get me that woman, and the Cyst and Kurjans will be one again.”
Drake glanced sideways. “Under my rule.”
“Of course,” Jaydon said, tilting his head as on-screen, the bears stomped out the remaining fires in the forest. “We are the spiritual leaders of the Kurjan nation. That is our role and our function. We lost both after the war, after so many of our soldiers died.” He turned to face Dayne. “I wish for the old ways as badly as do you, my friend. But my first allegiance has to be to the great leader Ulric and his destiny. His plans must come to fruition, and we must get him home.”
“We’ve never forgotten that,” Dayne said, his eyes swirling a deep purple.
“Then we’re in accord,” Jaydon said. He flicked a glance at a computer tech typing away in the corner. “Why is Sam Kyllwood still breathing?”
Drake barely kept from reminding the general that Sam had been within their grasp the night before, and none of them had come close to taking off his head. “We’re working on it.”
Jaydon rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me. Aren’t the concerned hybrid forces even able to do that job?” He snorted. “The Defenders. Only a bunch of scientists turned spies would even think of using such a stupid name. Next they’re going to sew capes with an emblem.”
Drake saw no reason to hide his grin. “Even so, they do have access to Sam Kyllwood through their youngest member, Paxton Phoenix, although I’m not sure he has it in him to kill Kyllwood.”
Dayne looked at the tech, who was a young Kurjan soldier with thick red hair and spiky black tips. “What’s our intel?”
The tech turned around, his eyes a light red with purple rims. “Our source said the Defenders took a vote the other night and have decided to hold off on killing Sam Kyllwood for two reasons. The first is that they don’t want another Keeper of the Circle to be created without their knowing who it is—their fear is that it might be one of us.”
“The second reason?” Jaydon asked.