Marked, Page 2

  “This is a bad idea,” Garrett said, facing their father over her head.

  Talen nodded and clapped his son on the arm. Emotion glowed dark in his eyes, but his expression remained stoic and hard. “You have your orders. Protect headquarters in case the peace talks are just a diversion for an attack. We’ll be back tonight.” Taking Janie’s arm with a gentle touch, he escorted her to the nearest helicopter, where he jumped in beside her.

  Dage Kayrs, the king of the Realm, turned from the pilot’s seat. He’d tied his dark hair back, probably in case of a fight, and his silver eyes were somber. “You ready?”

  “Yes.” Janie folded her hands in her lap, meeting her uncle’s gaze as the sense of destiny clicked into place. “I’m ready.”

  Two hours later, deep underground in an impossibly dangerous cavern, Janie settled onto a stone bench, her hands clasped on the stone table. The ride down into the earth had taken forever, yet she’d arrived much too quickly at one of the four entrances, each controlled by one of the species attending the talks.

  A mutation in the laws of physics made survival in the room possible, allowing them to breathe so close to the earth’s core. The possibility existed that the safeguards put in place might fail, and she swallowed to keep from panicking.

  The king sat to her right, looking nearly bored. He eyed the fire burning in the center. “Ever feel like we’ve challenged quantum physics one time too many?” he muttered.

  Yes. God, yes. “I shouldn’t have, but I Googled fault lines on the Internet. The one beneath this cavern connects with the Andreas Fault,” she whispered.

  He nodded. “If our safeguards fail, we’ll trigger the largest earthquake in history. Millions will die.”

  Anxiety flattened her chest and compressed her lungs. She swallowed. “Great.”

  Behind them stood her father, at guard. He was the only person who’d be allowed to stand in the room. Everyone else had agreed to sit behind solid rock.

  It was more difficult to attack from a seated position.

  But Talen could stand as a concession because Janie was attending the talks. Every species on earth had prophesied her birth, and her attendance was mandatory. But fate had failed to whisper why Janie was prophesied. She had no clue what to do to fulfill destiny, and the fear of failure squeezed like a vise.

  “I’m sure our safeguards will hold. You okay?” Dage asked quietly, his gaze remaining on the roaring fire in the middle of the stone tables. The fire was necessary both for light, and because somehow the element assisted the quantum physics protecting the occupants.

  “Yes,” she lied. “Just ready to get started.” Another lie. Why did the Kurjans and the demons have to arrive last? It was as if they wanted to make a big entrance. Enough with the waiting. She glanced around the tavern.

  To her left sat the three prophets of the Realm. While they advised the Realm, they stood as the true spiritual leaders of the immortal world, and all species respected them. Prophet Lily sat regal in a flowing gown, her blue eyes sparkling like a lake in the peace of summer. The ancient Prophet Guiles wore a brown overcoat and had dark bags under his eyes. As a traitor to the Realm who’d tried to aid the Kurjans, he was fortunate to be breathing.

  And finally, Prophet Caleb, Lily’s mate, looked pissed off and ready to hit anybody at any time. It was his normal expression, so Janie wasn’t alarmed.

  Lily looked toward Janie and winked.

  Misplaced humor bubbled up from Janie’s stomach. “Lily’s trying to calm me.”

  Dage nodded. “I hope she can keep us all calm.”

  Calm would be good.

  Dage cleared his throat. “If something goes wrong, you run for the lift behind your father. Don’t hesitate.”

  “I understand.” They’d been over the plan many times.

  Frustration twisted Dage’s lip. “I can’t teleport from here. You know that. We’re too deep in the earth.”

  “Yes.” Janie patted his arm. Vampires had extra abilities, but Dage was the only vampire she’d ever heard about who could teleport from one place to another. Probably because he was the king and from the ruling family.

  Janie glanced past the prophets to the two men representing the shifter nations in the talks; they’d shared the vampires’ entrance to the cavern. Jordan Pride, head of the lions, and Terrent Vilks, head of the wolf nation, both sat without moving, attention on the openings in the rock where the Kurjans and demons would enter.

  When shifters remained motionless, things were about to blow up.

  Janie exhaled and counted to ten, trying to slow her heart rate. Immortals could sense fear, and she had to be a beacon right now. To keep her mind occupied, she glanced past Dage to the witches sitting regally at their table.

  Vivienne Northcutt, the leader of the witches, sat at proper attention, waiting with no expression on her intelligent face. Next to her sat Moira Kayrs, Janie’s aunt, and a witch enforcer. Moira’s curly red hair had been pulled back, and her green eyes flashed five shades of plasma electricity. Deadly and ready.

  They were to continually monitor the quantum physics keeping the group safe, so the meeting didn’t set off the worst earthquake in human history.

  To their right, on a sharply cut stone edge, lay the Prophecies of Arias. A book bound in worn green leather, an ancient text sought by all species. The witches had possessed the volume for at least two centuries after having stolen it from the demons. Janie had dreamed about the book for years, but she still couldn’t see inside its pages. As she watched, the book began to glow.

  Welcoming her?

  A rustle sounded, jerking Janie’s attention to one of the vacant openings. Tall and whipcord thin, a Kurjan she didn’t recognize entered through the detector that would immediately vaporize him if he dared bring a physical or chemical weapon. Seven feet tall and dressed in all black, the white-faced predator had the typical Kurjan red hair with black tips . . . and purple eyes. He took his seat, obviously weaponless.

  Kalin, the current leader of the Kurjans, entered next, his odd green gaze immediately seeking her out.

  Her smile came naturally.

  His arrived with a flash of fangs. He bowed. “Janet. It’s good to see you again.”

  “You too,” Janie said, even though Dage stiffened next to her. She’d met Kalin in dream worlds since childhood, and they’d formed an uneasy, unlikely sort of friendship. He was a butcher, and he killed easily, but he’d also saved her life once. Maybe they could find peace together in order to save their families.

  He took his seat, his black hair and slightly darker skin a contrast to the Kurjan soldier sitting next to him. With a bit of makeup, Kalin might appear human.

  Janie said a quick prayer that Kalin really wanted peace. The Kurjans had created a deadly virus, Virus-27, which attacked the chromosomal pairs of vampire mates as well as witches, and Janie’s mother had the illness. Hopefully Kalin had a cure to share.

  “Now we just need the demons,” Moira muttered. “Are they still dressing, or what?”

  Dage growled low.

  Janie swallowed. Suri, the demon leader, had captured and tortured Dage’s youngest brother for nearly five years. Janie wanted Suri dead as badly as Dage did, because it had taken Uncle Jase years to recover.

  How were they ever going to find peace?

  Power permeated the air when Suri stepped into the cavern. Broad and tall, the demon had presence. White hair and black eyes showed his purebred lineage. He glanced around the cavern, and his chest puffed out.

  Dage shifted his weight next to Janie.

  She kept her gaze on the enemy. Whatever demon soldier he’d brought with him didn’t matter. Only this man did. If he would agree to peace, no more blood would be shed.

  He took his seat, his dark gaze landing squarely on her.

  Dage eyed his enemy. “You come alone, Suri?”

  “No. I brought my nephew.” Suri didn’t break eye contact.

  A large body suddenly overwhelmed the
doorway behind him.

  Heat rushed down Janie’s throat to burn her lungs. A roaring filled her ears. Her hand involuntarily sought the necklace at her throat. The soldier standing behind Suri, so tall, broad, and deadly, was the one person she thought she’d be able to trust forever.

  “Hi, Janie Belle,” Zane said.

  Chapter 2

  Zane’s a demon. A demon. A demon. A demon. The mantra ripped through Janie’s head in an endless loop of pain. A fucking demon.

  He sat directly across from her, the firelight flicking shadows across his familiar face. Somewhat familiar, anyway. In reality, in person, a hardness angled his features in a way the dream world had masked. A scar ran along the right side of his face, proclaiming battle and near death. He’d once told her a pissed-off demon had scarred him.

  Had he lied?

  The boy she’d known, the teenager she’d loved, had grown into a predator studying her with eyes a deeper green than she’d realized.

  Strength, power, and determination all cascaded around him, enhancing a wildness at his core he didn’t bother to conceal.

  Half-vampire and half-demon? What kind of power would mixing two such predatory races create? Even surrounded by deadly creatures, he stood out as something unique. Deadly. The mere uncertainty of his birth made him an excellent ally or a deadly enemy. As he sat next to Suri, the one being Janie hated more than any other, his allegiance became all too clear.

  Enemy.

  “Well, that explains why we couldn’t find Zane’s mother’s people when his father died,” Dage muttered quietly just for her.

  Janie lifted her chin. Even if she’d wanted to speak, her vocal cords had frozen.

  A demon.

  Shock and hurt chilled her, until slowly, with a sure burn, the fire of fury banished the cold.

  Pure, raw, female fury.

  She didn’t know him. Maybe she never had. Even so, the sense of betrayal failed to mask the feelings she’d harbored for him. Deep and real. Her focus narrowed, and Zane’s chin slowly lowered, his nostrils flaring like a wolf’s accepting a challenge.

  As their gazes clashed, a silent war cry resonated through the unnatural physics in the chamber so deep in the earth. The protective walls morphed, and the immortals all around tensed.

  “Take it easy, Jane,” Dage whispered.

  She nodded and exhaled slowly, allowing anger to replace the pain. Her human emotions didn’t have the strength to affect the mutated quantum physics keeping them safe.

  Zane’s emotions did.

  At the realization, triumph lifted her lips in almost a smile. Yeah. She’d gotten to him.

  His eyes blazed ten shades of fire, but that hard face remained expressionless.

  Dage leaned in. “So Zane’s the Ghost. He must be.”

  Oh. The demon assassin whispered about at campfires and in strategic meetings. The deadly demon close to Suri who had nearly supernatural powers and a fatal ability to kill. Janie swayed and quickly tightened her thighs to keep from falling. How could the sweet kid she’d known so long ago be the feared Ghost?

  Prophet Lily cleared her throat. “Well, then. Ah, shall we get started?”

  Whispers of movement sounded as attention turned toward Lily. Yet Zane kept his focus on Janie, and she couldn’t look away. He gave her no expression, no inkling of what he was thinking or even feeling. Nothing. How could he be a demon?

  She wanted to run across the chamber and touch him. Feel the real man and get him to say this was all a mistake. That he still cared for her, and they’d work together. That what she remembered wasn’t some silly girlhood dream. That she mattered.

  But he sat across the room next to her biggest enemy. It was time for Janie to grow up and let go of childhood dreams. Her chest actually hurt as if somebody had kicked through her breastbone to her heart. Direct hit.

  Lily cleared her throat. “Since nobody put demands in writing, we’ll go around the room and state our initial demands. I’d appreciate it if everyone waited to respond until all demands have been made.”

  Janie blinked and tried to concentrate, but so many questions swirled through her head, she couldn’t focus. How could Zane keep this from her? Had any of their friendship been real? It had to have been. She’d known him as a scared kid, way back when, and he’d cared for her.

  Did he still?

  Dage leaned forward. “The Realm demands all warring stop, the demons return any prisoners of war immediately, the Kurjans turn over all research and data concerning Virus-27, and any contracts out on any Realm citizens or members of the Kayrs family be immediately rescinded. In addition, we demand a treaty prohibiting biochemical warfare.” His deep voice held power and echoed around the cavern. “And we want possession of the Prophesies of Arias, as it must be our turn.”

  Janie broke eye contact with Zane to glance around the group for reactions. Damn immortals. Nobody even twitched.

  Vivienne Northcutt clasped her long fingers together on the stone. “The Coven Nine demands all information regarding Virus-27 be turned over immediately, and any contracts on witches be rescinded.” She glanced at Dage. “The Prophecies of Arias remains in our possession. In addition”—she turned to face Suri and Zane—“we want Eastern Europe. The former Soviet Union and all the Baltic States. The lands were settled by witches, so get out.”

  Janie wanted to nod but instead kept still. The witches needed the land because of a dangerous mineral inherent in the rocks there that harmed witches, and they wanted Virus-27 information because the damn illness affected witches as well as vampire and probably demon mates who had once been human. Apparently witches had fewer chromosomal pairs than other immortal species and thus lacked the protection vampires, demons, and Kurjans had with their additional pairs. The witches’ demands seemed fair.

  Jordan Pride’s eyes flickered just like a cougar’s as he straightened.

  “The shifter nation wants all prisoners of war returned immediately, and considering Virus-27 turned shifters into werewolves until we found a cure for shifters, we want all research associated with the virus.”

  It was too bad they hadn’t found a cure for witches or mates yet. Janie took a deep breath.

  “In addition”—Terrent Vilks eyed the fire crackling in the center of the room—“we want information regarding any werewolves still alive, and we demand autonomy in dealing with werewolves. Nobody hunts or kills our own but us.”

  Wow. Janie hadn’t been expecting that one from their allies, and by the stiffening of Dage next to her, neither had he.

  Kalin tapped bony fingers on the stone table. “The Kurjans demand all research regarding our biology and aversion to sunlight from every species in here, because we know you’ve been studying us. We also demand the return of any imprisoned Kurjans, as well as our turn taking possession of the Arias book.” He turned his odd green/purple gaze on Janie. “Finally, we demand access to the chosen one.”

  Janie blinked. What did access mean? Her father moved closer to her, bringing the reassuring scent of pine.

  Kalin didn’t move. “We want a dialogue and the right to conduct some noninvasive tests to see why Janet Kayrs has been prophesied by our oracles.”

  Was access a euphemism for mating? It wasn’t a secret Kalin wanted to mate with Janie to gain access to her psychic abilities, but she had to appreciate his mild approach.

  Janie blew out air. It had to be killing some of the immortals in the room to refrain from responding to the demands. Round two of the talks would certainly be more explosive. “The Prophesied One has her own demands,” she said.

  Dage’s head jerked toward her, and her father growled low. She kept her face calm, not having realized until right that second she’d need to make her own statement. “The war ends, and all prisoners will be returned to their homes. No more bloodshed, no more biological weapons, and no more secret agendas—and the Prophecies of Arias comes home with me.”

  The book flew up into the air, hovered, and zip-lined for h
er head. She put up both hands, and leather slapped into her palms. Her eyes widened, and her stomach clenched. How could a book fly? With great care, she set the book on the table.

  A hush fell on the room, and even the fire’s crackle lulled.

  The book pulled at Janie. Holding her breath, she flipped open the cover.

  Dage sucked in breath. “Nobody has ever been able to touch the book with bare skin. Ever. Even the witches had to transport the book with heat-resistant gloves.”

  Janie smiled, entranced. Pages rustled, opening to nearly the middle.

  Blank pages.

  “What do you see?” Dage asked.

  Janie blinked. Slowly, symbols took shape and then words. She smiled. “Strengths. Weaknesses.” Of different species. The weakness of witches was listed as phenakite, also known as planekite and phanakite, depending on region. Maybe the information there could help her find a way to end the war. Reaching out, she began to turn the page.

  “Enough!” Suri bellowed through the room. “Nobody reads the book until we reach an agreement.”

  “Apparently nobody but Janie can read the book,” Dage said dryly. Even so, he nodded. “For now, close the prophecies.”

  Janie faltered, fighting the drive to read more. To understand more. Maybe the weathered pages revealed her destiny. But as Suri began to rise from his desk, she closed the book.

  The demon sat back down.

  Janie swallowed and kept one palm on the rough leather. Somehow the object heated her hand.

  “I believe it’s our turn for demands,” Suri said.

  Janie turned her focus to the demons, her heart thumping upon meeting Zane’s gaze again.

  He apparently hadn’t looked away.

  Tingles spread through Janie’s abdomen, and heat rose from her chest. Even across the room, the man held a magnetic pull.

  She met his determined gaze without flinching. Irritation filled his eyes. An odd tension had permeated the room from the moment the Kurjans had demanded access to her. Probably because to end the war, she’d grant it.