Conn lifted a bloody eyebrow. “Ewww.”
“You drink blood, asshole.” Damn vampires didn’t know how gross that really was. “Ah, Brent Bomant is alive.”
Conn stilled. The air vibrated. “No, he’s not.”
“Yes. Apparently I left a tendon attached. And now he’s a werewolf. One with intelligence and the ability to speak.”
“Speak? A werewolf communicated?”
“Oh yeah. Spoke clearly and remembered his life before turning into a werewolf. Worse yet, he remembered me ... and what I did.”
“Unbelievable.” Conn scraped both hands down his face. “We did the right thing, Jordan.”
“Did we?” Jordan whispered. “I’ve always wondered.” Was it ambition that had him killing his own family? His own blood. “If we did the right thing, you would’ve cleared the plan with Dage instead of never saying a word.”
“We did our jobs ... and part of my job was protecting my king, regardless of his being my brother.” Conn gave a low growl. “You and I buried this issue three centuries ago. Too late to worry about our decisions now.”
Was it? The nape of Jordan’s neck began to tingle. “I can’t figure out who would be working with Brent. Who’d be taking pictures of Katie to give to him.” The whole idea infuriated Jordan to the point he could barely see.
Conn shook his head. “Most werewolves feel the need to kill humans. Well, to kill everyone. If Brent has progressed to where he can refrain from killing and actually work with a human, he’s even more dangerous than I would’ve thought.”
“That’s an understatement.” Jordan couldn’t talk about the past anymore. “Where’s your mate, anyway?”
“Moira is in Ireland meeting with the Council of the Coven Nine.” Conn rolled his neck. “The council has some sources in the demon nation that say there’s an internal war going on. We’re trying to find out if it’s true, and if so, what to do about it. Who to align with.”
The council ruled the witches and aligned with the Realm. If anybody had spies in the demon nation, it’d be the witches. Though, starting ten years ago, certain shifting clans had begun to work with the demons, so Jordan’s informants might be of some help, too. “I have several feelers out right now for information regarding the demons. They’re centralizing their power bases in Scotland and somewhere in the southern part of the United States.” Which meant they’d be hitting Realm forces sometime soon.
Conn nodded. “Between war with the Kurjans the last ten years, and your people’s problems with the virus killing so many, our troops are depleted.” He huffed out a laugh. “Thank God the witches have remained our allies.”
“Speaking of witches, when will yours be home?” The little witch always made things interesting, and watching her run Conn in circles would lighten Jordan’s mood.
“Next week,” the vampire growled, frowning. He rubbed his short hair. “I still owe her for the buzz cut.”
Jordan fought a smile. “You’re lucky she didn’t singe your eyebrows, too.”
“She’s lucky she didn’t.” Conn grinned, shaking his head. “She got me good this time. I’m trying to figure out a decent payback, but all I can think about is getting her home safely.”
The moon began to rise, snapping electricity along Jordan’s skin. Ever since he’d been infected, he’d been in tune with the moon. He shook off the unease. “Having your woman fighting ... the reality is hard, isn’t it?”
“Oh yeah. I’d love to lock Moira up in some fortress”—Conn snorted—“but she’d just blow the place to pieces on her way out.” All five fingers on his left hand popped as he stretched them out to heal. “She’s a fighter, and I like that about her, but it’s a lot easier when I’m fighting next to her.”
“I get that.” His friend would probably head to Ireland after the full moon—after Jordan would need to be put down. “The moon is up—I need to go outside.” He hated it. But rabid ants crawled under his skin until he leapt into moonlight when the orb appeared after dusk. The pull rivaled gravity.
A door slammed open in the hallway, and Katie rushed inside, her hair a wild mass around her slim shoulders. “Jordan—”
“I know.” He strode toward the door and grasped her arm. “We need to go outside.” He hadn’t realized how difficult the last decade must’ve been for her—craving the moon every night. The demand was like having an addiction with no treatment possibilities.
“No.” She tugged away. “Emma found a cure.” Strong fingers dug into his arm, yanking him into the hallway. “She used Maggie’s blood combined with yours since getting infected combined with a spell created by Moira before she left for Ireland.” Katie’s voice rose in excitement as she dragged him up a flight of stairs toward the labs. “Emma won’t use the concoction on me because the cure hasn’t been tested. But you’re out of time.”
Moira was one of the most powerful witches alive. If anyone could alter the subatomic particles of a liquid cure, it’d be Moira.
Jordan allowed Katie to tug him into the main lab where they almost ran over Kane Kayrs.
He lifted an eyebrow, his metallic violet eyes serious. Dressed in black slacks and silk shirt, the smartest vampire on the planet always looked like he should be vacationing in Rome instead of spending hours after hours in a lab working with the queen. Well, when he wasn’t catching werewolves for sport. “Good news travels fast.”
Hope. For the first time since the confirmation of Jordan’s being infected, hope battled through his despair. “Is there good news?”
Katie hopped in excitement next to him, her boots squeaking on the spotless tiles. She reached down to grip his hand. He leaned a hip against one of the three examination tables, trying to stay calm. Trying not to get too excited about the possibility.
Emma turned from peering through a microscope. “Maybe.” She glanced at Katie, concern furrowing her brow. “We managed to attack a sample of Virus-27 in a petri dish ... not exactly the same environment as a living body.”
“But the cure worked?” Katie breathed, her grip tightening.
“Yes. The mixture binds itself around the virus ... keeping the bug from reproducing.”
Katie smiled. “So the virus will stop attacking Jordan’s chromosomes and he won’t turn into a werewolf.”
“Theoretically.” Kane reached for a syringe off the wide granite counter. “I prepared an injection for you earlier, Jordan. Just in case.” The scientist stalked toward them, somehow menacing even in the comfortable lab.
Jordan held out his arm. With the luck he’d been having lately, the cure would turn him into a monkey. “How soon should we know?”
“With the new equipment, in a couple hours.” Kane jabbed the needle in his vein.
Lava poured through Jordan’s veins. Hot and angry, the liquid bubbled along with his blood. “Holy shit. What the hell is that?”
Emma pursed her lips. “A whole lot of stuff, including magic.” Then she frowned at the long row of equipment lining the counter. “In fact, several of our concoctions could be applied to cure human diseases.”
Kane sighed. “Emma, the methodology could be applied, not our results. Our results deal with nonhumans. And we let you send the methodology to the human scientists.”
“Let me?” The queen lifted her chin. Her pointy shoe tapped several times on the thick tiles. “One of my favorite pastimes is kicking you, Kane Kayrs.”
“Talk to your husband about outside communications, not me. My brother controls all information going out ... you know that.” Kane pivoted to the machines, turning his back on them all. “Jordan, I want to do blood tests on the hour, every hour. If you feel anything different, please let me know.”