Twisted

Jase chuckled.

“You knew?” Terrent muttered.

“Of course I knew.” Dage glared, and five hundred miles away, it still burned. “I’m the fucking king.”

So he wanted to play that game, did he? Terrent leaned forward. “I appreciate your sending little Maggie my way . . .

such great timing.” Yeah. He knew she was there to uncover the bastard messing with his inoculations. “I can find my own damn traitor.”

The king flashed sharp teeth in what almost passed for a smile. He’d pulled his black hair back and wore sparring clothing. The silver of his eyes shone with a dark wisdom.

“Maggie needs to be with wolves, to see if her memories can be shaken loose—especially since her people are now aware that she’s alive. A mission got her there, didn’t it?”

Jase chuckled again.

Irritation clawed down Terrent’s spine. Was the damn king trying to matchmake? “I don’t need your help with my personal life, Dage.”

“The hell you don’t. It’s been ten years.” Dage didn’t blink.

“I’ve been trying to figure out why the demons are after her . . . or at least, what the Kurjans did to her.” For a decade Terrent had hunted, he’d searched, and he’d failed.

“I know.” Dage clasped his hands together. “We’re still trying to go through all the files from the last raid against the demons, and from when we, ah . . .” His gaze flicked to Jase.

Silver morphed to blue in his eyes, and he quickly blinked, bringing back the silver. “When we found Jase in Scotland.”

When they’d rescued the nearly dead Jase, that is. Jase didn’t move, and his face lost all expression. The eyes of a killer focused out of what had just been a charming face.

Terrent cleared his throat. “Let me know if you find anything in the files.”

Dage nodded. “I will. What happened to the wolves who attacked you?”

“They’re secure, and I’ll interview them tomorrow.”

The king nodded at the euphemism. “Let me know what you find out.” He focused on his younger brother. “How long are you staying with Terrent?”

“I’m leaving shortly,” Jase said.

Dage’s jaw firmed. “If you must. Remember you promised to check in once a month.”

“I remember,” Jase said.

The king exhaled. “You have one year to do what you need to do, Jase. At the end of the year, I want you back at Realm headquarters in Oregon.”

“I’ll take as long as I want.” No emotion sat on Jase’s predatory face.

Plenty of emotion filtered across the king’s. “As I’ve said, you have one year. Come home, or we’ll come and get you.”

The screen went black.

Terrent was suddenly very grateful to have been an only child. “Family.”

Jase grinned and rubbed his short brown hair, the charm back in place. “No shit.” He stood and strode toward the door. “If you need me, you know how to reach me.”

The last thing Terrent needed around was a furious, slightly crazy, still-dealing-with-the-hell-he’d-gone- through vampire. “Be safe, Jase.”

Tension escaped the room along with Jase. Seconds later, the entire cabin relaxed. Terrent lifted his head to double-check and then flicked a button on the desk.

Dage Kayrs once again took shape. “Is he gone?”

“Yes.”

“You have plans in place?” the king asked.

“Yes. We have wolves all around the mountain. If he’s in trouble, or if he needs help, we’ll know it.” Terrent leaned back to study the king.

Lines of worry and anger cut into the sharp angles of Dage’s face. Lines he’d hidden from his brother. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Maybe you should talk to him instead of having us watch over him as he lives alone for a while.” Shit.

What did Terrent know? He’d never had family.

Dage grimaced. “He won’t talk. Not to anybody.” Dage scrubbed both hands down his face. “I should never have let him be captured.”

“Maybe that’s part of the problem,” Terrent said softly.

Dage’s dark eyebrows drew down. “Meaning?”

“All of you Kayrs brothers—you blame yourselves for your younger brother being captured. That’s a lot of responsibility and guilt to carry. For him to carry.” Terrent shifted his weight. No wonder the poor guy had wanted to get away from family and home.

Dage’s gaze turned thoughtful. “Interesting. I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“I don’t mean to interfere.” Terrent shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to get involved.

“Actually, I appreciate the insight.” The king leaned back in his chair. “Are you any closer to figuring out who’s messing with the shifter inoculations?”

“No, but I will be.” The idea of any wolf messing with the inoculations that kept their people safe fired rage in Terrent’s blood. Well, at least the situation should be firing him into a pissed-off state. He sighed. “I can’t figure it out. The saboteur always strikes here at wolf headquarters before the drugs are sent around the world, and so far, we’ve discovered the faulty vials in time to fix the problem.”

“So no shifter has been given the damaged inoculations?”

Dage asked.

“No.” Terrent leaned toward the camera and rested his elbows on his knees. His people had been safe from Virus ever since the vampires had created the inoculation. “Nobody has been harmed by the damaged drugs. It’s as if this is the worst terrorist we’ve ever met, or—”

“Someone wants you distracted?” Dage rubbed his chin.

“That’s disconcerting.”

“I know. If successful, this plan could be quite the terrorist move, considering shifters need three inoculations spaced three years apart to be permanently immune to the virus. We only have two series completed for most people.” Yet, Terrent couldn’t quite get excited about the matter. Nobody had been harmed. “If this is some sort of trap, I haven’t figured out for whom or why.”

“Need backup?” Dage asked.

“No.” Terrent worked alone. Even as part of the Bane’s Council, he hunted alone. “I’ve got this.”

Dage nodded. “Are you ready for, well, Maggie?”

Talk about a loaded question. “I take it you knew I knew her?”

“Of course.” The king shrugged. “There isn’t much I don’t know.”

Terrent sighed. Now he owed his old friend for keeping the secret. “The lass still doesn’t remember me.” The words cut through him with a familiar pain, and he let the damn brogue slip. It’d been years since he’d trained to speak without it. “A decade to heal, and she’s still a blank slate.”

“She may never remember.” Dage leaned forward. “She loved you once. Maybe she’ll be foolish enough to do so again.” His lips tipped in almost a smile.

What if she didn’t? What if she’d changed enough they’d lost their chance? “I’m sure my charm will work again.” Terrent forced a grin.

Dage tapped a communicator in his ear and listened for a moment. “I have to go. Call me if you need me.”

The screen went dark. For real this time.

Terrent took a deep breath. He needed to visit Realm headquarters more often. The worry and frustration seemed to be getting to the king, and nothing ever got to the king. A creak outside caught Terrent’s attention.