No big deal? Kane was correct. Dage hadn’t been using Jase’s gifts. “Right.” Dage focused on the still standing Kurjan, its muscles shaking with the need to break free of Talen’s mental hold. “He’s not very strong.”
“No.” Talen took a deep breath. “I can’t kill him like this.”
Dage shrugged. “So knock him out. I don’t care.”
The Kurjan hit the floor.
“You to the third level yet?” Conn said through the earpiece.
“No. We ran into resistance.” Dage led the way down the steps, increasing his pace to a jog.
“Step on it. The Kurjans got a message out—reinforcements arrive within ten minutes.” Conn swore, then the sound of a neck snapping filled the line. “Sorry. This one snuck up on me.” The alarm abruptly cut off. “I’m going to blow the control room and go create a return path for you. Be clear in five. Conn out.”
“I’ll take lead,” Dage said, jumping down a flight of stairs.
“No.” Talen leapt over the railing, landing several cement steps ahead.
“I’ve got the rear,” Jase muttered.
Dage began jogging behind his brother. “What the hell? You two are flanking me? I taught you both to fight.”
Talen reached the landing and readied his stance. “It’s a fine job you’ve done. But we’re at war and losing our king would be, er, bad.”
Dage reached the landing with Jase on his heels, hating when his brother was right. He yanked his gun from his waist to point at the industrial metal door. Checking to see Jase in position, the king nodded to Talen.
A swift kick had the door exploding open followed by green bursts of fire. Dage swiveled out of the way, shielding Talen whether he wished it or not. The man had a child on the way. Three bullets hit Dage’s vest, knocking him back a step. A hazy wall instantly appeared before him to be punctured by green blasts which dropped to the floor with heavy pings.
Jesus. He eyed Jase out of the corner of his eye. “Quite the talent.”
“I can’t hold it.” Jase leveled his gun. “Shoot now.”
The wall disintegrated and Dage fired. A howl of pain echoed through the underground space. “That’s why you aim for the neck and not the vest, dumbass.”
Talen dodged past him, throwing a Kurjan against the far wall while Jase took two soldiers on, wind whipping their hair into their faces.
Dage darted past the fight, boots pounding throughout the dim tunnel, his eyes scouting ahead. Why weren’t there more guards?
Conn’s voice echoed in his earpiece. “Reinforcements arrive in three minutes. Hurry, damn it.”
Dage came to the end of the corridor and set his back against the wall before taking a deep breath, pivoting on one heel, and darting around the corner. His shot hit the first guard between the eyes. It went down, blood spraying. Not dead, but certainly unconscious for the duration.
The second guard lifted his weapon and failed to get off a shot before Dage was on him, knife sliding through cartilage and bone like scissors through silk. Another young soldier.
Standing, Dage studied the heavy metal door with industrial locks. A flick of his wrist had the locks disengaging with loud clicks. He yanked the door open, weapon at the ready.
The prophet sat bound and gagged on hard-packed earth, his back against the cement blocks of the wall, his eyes a bizarre mixture of yellow and blue. Dage had never seen Milner’s vampire colors. He’d figured the guy had only metallic brown eyes.
Dage jumped inside, slashing through the ropes and helping Milner to his feet. The sour smell of anger mixed with fear in the small cell.
The prophet stumbled. “Sedatives.” He clutched a bony hand into Dage’s arm. “Lily?”
“She’s secure.” Dage helped the prophet through the doorway, stopping to survey the hall before dragging the man toward the stairwell to find Jase and Talen at ready. “Go,” he ordered.
Talen took the lead while Dage half carried Milner up the stairs and through the deserted hallway, their boots thudding on the floor, smoke covering every surface.
The sun blasted down as they ran out of the building. The Kurjans couldn’t follow them outside. Dage growled. “Casualties?”
“Several,” Conn said through the earpiece, waving from outside an engaged Black Hawk. “We sent the severely injured to the Realm hospital in Canada, minor injuries went to Colorado.”
“Caleb’s forces?”
“Five to Canada, the rest home. They’re good fighters.” Conn helped Dage load Milner in the helicopter, jumping inside to flank the prophet. “Our troops and allies are clear.”
Dage nodded, sliding the door shut after Jase and Talen had jumped inside. “Go.”
The bird lifted into the sky and all eyes focused on the rapidly receding ground. “At your mark,” Dage said.
Conn waited a moment, then pushed a button on the slim control in his hand. A rumble filled the air before the compound exploded. Bricks, bodies, and wood shattered into the sky to fall and litter the earth. Angry black smoke billowed into the air while fire ripped across the buildings, eating everything in a blaze of heat.
Prophet Milner gasped, his eyes wide and his hand at his throat. “You blew up the entire complex.”
Dage smiled without any humor. “Welcome to the war, Prophet.”
Chapter 17
Franco tipped his head back, allowing the fifty-year-old scotch to burn his throat. He gazed out the wall of windows in his office set into the cliffs of Baffin Island. The sea, cold and merciless, stared back. Calm, inscrutable but teeming with life he could only imagine. Life outside the walls.
Soon he’d lead his people to a destiny beyond their imaginations.
“Nunavut sucks,” said a churlish voice from the doorway. “I’m not meant for Canada.”
No. The boy was made for greatness. Franco inclined his head, inviting his nephew into the room. “Isolation suits me.”
Kalin stalked inside and dropped into a chair on the other side of the marble desk. “Not me.”
“No. Perhaps not.” Franco settled into his leather chair and took another sip of scotch. His nephew had tied back his black hair, away from his not so pasty face. He’d find it easier than anyone in their race to pass for human—with makeup, and contacts to cover those purplish green eyes.
“I need to get the hell out of here.”
Puberty did suck, if Franco remembered right. “The helicopter and planes are at your disposal.”
Surprise flashed through Kalin’s bizarre eyes. “They are?”
God. Who had green in their eyes, anyway? “Sure.” Reaching for a gold coaster, Franco set the crystal down. “I understand your need to hunt. Please keep in mind I like it here, so I ask you to find women elsewhere. Take a weekend in Vegas, one in Omaha, and so on.”
Kalin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t mind?”
“Couldn’t care less.” So long as dead human females didn’t pile up outside his door, of course. “Though you know this is a phase, right? The need to kill does abate.” Well, maybe not abate. But it became honed, focused. Only truly worthy prey caught Franco’s attention these days.
Kalin nodded. “Yes. Sometimes I’m already bored with the game. But then I think of the Kayrs family and the fun to come ...” Sharp green dominated the purple through his eyes.
“The Kayrs and their prophesized child.” Franco tapped long sharp nails on the desk. “I had looked forward to her aunt visiting. Before I killed her, of course.”
“Of course.” Kalin cocked his head to the side. “You have another long-term mate in mind, Uncle?”
“Yes.” For years he’d dreamed about hair the color of sunshine and eyes the color of the darkest night. “Someday the prophet Lily will be mine.” She’d bear him many fine sons.