“Am I?” Franco brushed lint off his black uniform. “Prophet Sotheby? What would you give for the antidote that would cure all vampire mates as well as all witches?”
Lily lifted her chin. “While we should save such talk for the negotiations, what would the Kurjan nation request in exchange for the cure?”
Franco leaned forward. “The nation requests nothing.”
Caleb’s shoulders hardened to rock. “Excuse me?”
Lily tightened her grip on his hand. “What do you want, Franco?”
“You.”
Another kick under the table kept Caleb from lashing out. He turned incredulous eyes on the petite blonde who’d dared to kick him. Twice.
She smirked at the Kurjan leader. “Don’t tell me you created an entire virus to catch little ol’ me, Franco. I don’t believe you.”
Franco lifted a shoulder. “Freeing you from your mating mark turned out to be a nice side effect of the true purpose of the virus, I have to admit. Again, what are you willing to sacrifice for a cure? A real one?”
Then, the most dignified, ladylike, soft-spoken woman in the world pushed back from the table, planted both hands, and leaned toward the camera. “Not a damn thing. You’re a liar and a fraud, and there’s no cure for the virus. When you want to truly negotiate, you know where to find us.” She glanced at the king. “Disconnect.”
Franco growled through the speakers.
Dage blinked.
“Now,” Lily said with a snap.
The most powerful vampire in existence then punched a button, and the screen went black.
Lily stepped back and executed a half curtsy. “Gentlemen.” With her head lifted, she skirted the table and quietly exited the room.
Silence beat around the space for several moments. Finally, wide-eyed, Dage turned toward Caleb. “What the hell did you do?”
Caleb shook his head, trying to get his bearings. “Nothing. Why?”
“Because no way in hell was that the Prophet Lily Sotheby I have known for three centuries,” Dage growled, anger vibrating along his arms.
Against all rational thought, Caleb smiled. Then he chuckled. Finally, he threw back his head and laughed, hard and deep. Joy, intrigue, and satisfaction sang through his veins. Glancing at Dage’s incredulous expression, he laughed harder.
Now that was the Lily Sotheby he’d always suspected shimmered beneath the polite prophet. The moment hit him as right, just as his brain finally caught up with his heart. He loved the stunning prophet. “You’re wrong, King. You just met the real woman.” With a whistle, Caleb stood and headed toward the door. “My woman.”
Chapter Nine
Lily stood closer to the wide window, grateful to be inside the heated lodge and out of the wind swaying the trees. She stood in a gathering room with a pool table to her right and a bar to her left. Her gaze focused on the training field to the north of the main lodge. An impressive display of knife fighting combined with martial arts blurred the movements of the fighters.
“She’s incredible,” said a deep voice from behind Lily.
Lily jumped and then took a deep breath. “I didn’t hear you approach, Caleb.” Warmth from the man brushed her arm and sped up her heart.
“You were engrossed,” he said, his gaze outside as Janie took down a shifter twice her size, sharp knife pressed to the jugular. “When did Janie Kayrs become such a deadly fighter?”
Lily rubbed chilled arms. “She’s been training since preschool.”
Caleb clasped his hands behind his back, a massive man, a soldier at ease. “You’ve been training for centuries. Are you that good?” Only curiosity was evident in his deep tone.
“No.” Lily took a deep breath, wondering at Janie’s incredible speed and agility. “I couldn’t beat her.” The words rang with an ominous tone she felt inside her breast.
Caleb glanced down. “You don’t need to beat her. You’re on the same side.”
An image of the toddler with Caleb’s eyes flashed through Lily’s head. “I know.”
“The nightmares are wrong, Lil. Definitely wrong.”
Was there a hint of doubt in his confident expression? Lily studied him, trying to find truth. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.” He reached out and traced her jawline with his thumb.
Should she tell him about the last dream? The one with the little boy? They’d only slept together once, and for now, there was no cure for the virus infecting Lily’s blood. She couldn’t mate, thus she couldn’t have a child. “If the dreams aren’t true, then what’s happening?”
“I don’t know.” Caleb flattened his hand on Lily’s collarbone, sliding down to cover her heart. “But listen from here. We’ll figure the rest of it out.”
Heat spiraled from his hand, peaking her nipples, zinging through her body to land between her legs.
A discreet cough sounded from the door, and Lily stepped back to turn. “Prophet Guiles. What have you learned?”
Guiles glanced from Lily to Caleb and back again. Then he blinked twice. “Ah, well, let’s see.” He looked around the room, settled his shoulders, and then focused on them. “My sources say there might be a Kurjan cure for the virus.”
Lily exhaled. “So it might be true?”
“Bullshit,” Caleb muttered.
Guiles lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, it might be true. You need to expect an offer from Franco if there is a cure, Prophet Sotheby.”
She nodded. “I know.”
Caleb whirled on her. “Know what?”
She shrugged, and her pretty cheeks pinkened.
Guiles leaned against the doorjamb. “Franco’s, ah, affection for Lily is well known. If he has a cure, one of his many demands will most certainly be her.”
Without seeming to move, Caleb exuded tension. “Excuse me?”
Now was not the time for the man to turn into a possessive vampire. “We don’t have time for caveman tactics, Caleb. Right now, we need to strategize,” Lily said softly.
The look he gave her defied description. “Caveman tactics?”
All right. Maybe she could’ve chosen her words better. “Yes—” She ended on a squawk as the world spun and her ribs hit his hard shoulder. Even as he slung her over that shoulder, contained gentleness dictated his every move with her. “Hey—”
“Shut up,” he said, turning and striding across the room.
Guiles coughed. “I must remind you that you’re carting a prophet of the Realm across the room like a sack of potatoes.”
“If she’s planning to trade herself to a Kurjan, then she’s no smarter than a sack of potatoes,” Caleb said grimly, brushing past Guiles and through the door.
“I most certainly was not planning to trade myself,” she muttered against the rebel’s impossibly broad back.
He halted. “You weren’t?”
“Of course not.” She tried not to look, but he really did have a nicely tight behind. Strong and muscled. Plus, where else was she to look, anyway? Air swished, and she found herself facing Caleb in the hallway, holding his wrists to regain her balance.
“What was your plan?” He frowned.
She brushed hair back from her face. If she were any other woman, she’d punch him in the nose for the barbaric treatment. But she was a prophet. So, with a sniff, she turned on her heel. “You’ve lost the right to figure it out with me by such ridiculous behavior.”
As an exit line, it was perfectly delivered. Unfortunately, instead of appreciating her professional rejoinder, Caleb hauled her into his arms before she could take another step. “Damn it, Caleb.”
He grinned, pressing her close against his hard chest, his hold gentle to keep from bruising. “Is that any way for a prophet to talk?”
At the sarcasm and the overdone gentleness, something snapped in Lily. Ducking her shoulder against his armpit, she punched him in the nose.