Rebecca Zanetti: Tamed

Lily sighed the long-suffering exhale of a prophet. “On second thought, our venturing out into the world may have been a bad idea.”

“Bad idea?” Red hazed before his eyes. “You were in a bar fight when I arrived.” For the briefest of seconds, he had thought she’d been in danger. Although she’d been trained for centuries, she was still small. Delicate. It was a damn good thing the king had been there, or Caleb would’ve immediately gone for the kill. The primal need to defend her, to protect her, swirled unease through his gut.

Sadness lightened her eyes to the color of a mountain lake. “I know. But we just wanted to get away from duty and war for the briefest time. Janie needed a break . . .”

“Janie doesn’t get a break.” Caleb lowered his voice to keep from exploding. “Neither do you. You chose duty all those years ago, and that never ends.”

Her graceful hands clasped on the dented table. “You’re not still angry I married Sotheby and not you? Duty called me, just as it did you when Fate made you a prophet.”

“Fate?” His laugh emerged dark and bitter. “Bullshit. Fate has nothing to do with the brand on our necks. Nothing at all.”

Delicate eyebrows drew down. “How can you say that? When Prophet Milner died, the marking appeared on your neck, making you one of the three prophets. Of course Fate stepped in.”

“There is no Fate, Lily. We vampires have to figure this out.” How the hell an advanced species like vampires could still believe in Fate was beyond him. “It’s a virus, or a mutation, or something we haven’t figured out yet.”

She gasped, her face paling. “That’s crazy. The prophecy marking is a calling, and I’m not a vampire.”

No. Vampires were male only who often mated with human females, who then became immortal through a naturally occurring genetic alteration. He exhaled slowly. Lily’s husband had been a prophet, and when he’d died, the mark had appeared on her neck. The woman took the job seriously, which was good, but there was no big calling. “You and your husband were close?”

“We were friends, and we’d been mated for two weeks when he was taken by the Kurjans,” she whispered.

“I know.” The Kurjans were enemies of the vampires and had threatened to kill Miles Sotheby if Caleb didn’t stop hunting a Kurjan who’d killed Caleb’s stepsister. Caleb hadn’t stopped until the enemy was dead. “Do you blame me for your husband’s death?”

“No. I never have. The second the Kurjans took Miles, they intended to kill him.” Sadness filled her midnight-colored eyes.

Relief swept through Caleb. He’d hoped she hadn’t blamed him, because he truly couldn’t have saved Miles Sotheby. But it wasn’t just a coincidence that upon his death, Lily had become a prophet.

Ever since the damn brand had marred his neck, Caleb had been trying to find a logical answer to the whole process. “You were close to your husband and lived with him. The brand somehow transferred from him to you. When I became a prophet, I was in the immediate vicinity of the dying prophet. I think it’s a virus that needs a living host.”

“A virus?” she hissed, pink spiraling across her high cheekbones. “Bullocks.”

God. Lily in a temper was a fascinating sight. What he wouldn’t give to see how far down that pink flush went. Caleb’s groin tightened until his zipper cut into his flesh. “Yes.” He slid his hand over her warm skin, easily covering her two hands.

The innocent touch zipped straight through him like a shot of homemade whiskey. His heart thundered in his ears, and he forced calmness through his veins.

Her pupils dilated, and her chest heaved out a breath. Yeah. She was affected by the simple touch, as well.

He swallowed, his gaze dropping to the full mounds beneath the tight bustier. “You want to forget about war and duty? Come home with me.”

She cleared her throat, dragging his gaze back to her face. Temptation curved her lips. “That would be a mistake of colossal proportions.”

His grin came naturally. “Of course. But if you’re going to make a mistake, why not make it a good one?” He leaned forward, drawing in the scent of strawberries. “I promise you won’t regret the night.”

Her cheek creased, and she gently withdrew her hands from under his.

Every instinct he owned pushed him to tighten his hold and keep her in place. So he released her.

She settled back in the chair. “We’re facing the most difficult task of our lives in brokering the end to the war between vampires, Kurjans, and demons. Nothing can distract us from finding peace.”

Peace was overrated. “I don’t see the Kurjans really wanting peace.” The Kurjans were a white-faced, creepy race of killers who’d declared war on the Realm. Unlike the vampires, they could not venture into the sun and lived always in darkness. All of a sudden, they wanted to end the war? Not likely.

“Everyone wants peace for their children,” Lily said quietly.

Ah, to be so naïve. After living for centuries and seeing the destruction supposedly enhanced species could create, how could the woman believe in good? Caleb shook his head. “Even if we’ve beaten the Kurjans down enough that they want peace, no way will the demons stop fighting.”

The demons were a deadly race that had declared war on the Realm the second the king had let Caleb back into the fold. He’d been kicked out eons ago for backing his relative, who’d mated a shifter instead of the demonness he’d been promised to. “The demons will never stop.”

Lily lifted a bare shoulder. “Yet they’ve reached out and asked for negotiations. As the prophets, the three of us lead the peace talks. Period.”

A part of him really wanted to find peace for her. Just so she’d keep that sunny outlook on life. Caleb’s hand itched to touch her again. “Both the demons and the Kurjans want a chance at getting Janie. The demons want her dead, and the Kurjans want her to mate with one of them.”

Lily nodded. “I know.”

“What else do you know?” Caleb asked. Since he’d become a fucking prophet, he’d been assailed with visions of the future—often visions that didn’t make any sense or have to do with anybody he’d ever met. Dark and ominous, something pushed him. To kill.

She shrugged, her gaze shifting away. “That’s it. Why?”

“No reason.” Yeah, the prophecy virus had messed with his brain, and apparently Lily wasn’t ready to share her visions, because she was lying. Well, he was a hunter at heart, and he knew when to have patience.

So he leaned back. “How are you feeling, anyway?” Since learning that Lily had contracted Virus-27, he’d alternated between feeling concern and anticipation. The Kurjans had created the virus to attack the genetics of vampire mates, unraveling chromosomal pairs so the woman was no longer a mate, taking her first down to human. Unfortunately, it appeared that the virus kept unraveling the chromosomes, but at least it was slow-acting.

Lily smiled and focused back on him. “I’m a bit tired, but I’m sure we’ll find a cure before I become human again, or worse.”

“What did your last genetic test show?”

She lost the smile. “I’m down to twenty-five chromosomal pairs, which is still two up from being a human. So I’m not aging, but if I get down to human, then I’ll start aging again.”

The idea of Lily not being on earth with him hurt. Bad. “I’m sure we’ll find a cure.”

“Me, too.” Fear crossed her face for the briefest of seconds.

Time hung like a weight around his neck. He pushed back from the table and stood, holding out a hand to the lady.

She took it and gracefully scooted from behind the table. “It is getting late.”