Consumed

Chapter 11

Alone in the underground bedroom, Janie stretched sleepily in her bed, waiting for daylight to arrive. She loved being inside the earth, which often whispered secrets to her. So many secrets existed right now, and every time Janie tried to see the future, it morphed into different paths. The future distorted daily.

She tugged on the horseshoe necklace around her neck. Zane had given the token to her in a dream when she’d turned five years old. Nobody could explain how she’d carried the gift from her dream into reality. They only met in dreams—and somehow the big world seemed smaller, the monsters less scary when she knew Zane waited to meet her someday.

Hurt slithered down her torso to pool in her abdomen. Sure, there was a six-year age difference between them, but they’d been friends. In fact, for too many years, Zane had been her only friend. How could he abandon her? God, she hoped he wasn’t dead. It’d been so long since she’d had a vision concerning him.

Her thoughts in turmoil, her stomach rolling, she drifted back into sleep.

The dream came quickly and she dropped right into it.

Dank and wet, the cave made her shiver. Janie rubbed her hands along chilled arms and stopped moving. Taking in each dark wall, the blistering wind whistling outside, and the smooth damp floor, she surveyed her surroundings, just as her father had taught her.

Realization came with a flash.

Dreaming. She walked in a dream ... one she hadn’t engineered. It had been so long, she’d almost missed the signs.

A low groan echoed from the darkness ahead.

She could leave, or go forth and find out what was going on. In a dream, she was safe. Probably. But regardless, Janie Kayrs had never been a coward.

Three steps forward and a dark wall stood in her way. Shuffling to the side, she discovered the passageway and slid her feet slowly, making sure the ground continued to exist. The smell of damp moss permeated her senses. A sharp turn to the right and she found a room.

One lit by a huge hole in the rock roof.

A man sprawled on the stone floor, his back to a wall, his face turned away. He was as large as Uncle Dage, with a buzz cut and wide shoulders. He’d dressed in black combat gear from flak boots to the bulletproof vest lying by his side next to a bloodied shirt. His bare chest bled from several cuts. Deep ones. The wall cradled his head as he slowly turned toward her, eyes closed. Pain etched lines at the side of his mouth and he groaned again.

The world tilted, then focused with too much speed. Janie stumbled back a step. “Zane?”

His eyes flashed open. Dark and green, they zeroed in on her. “Janie Belle?”

She shook her head against reality. He’d given her the nickname years ago, declaring “Janet Isabella” to be too long. A man’s voice, low and deep, had rumbled from what was clearly a man’s body. A muscular, adult man’s body. Thank God he wasn’t dead. “You grew up.”

His smile tightened into a grimace. “You didn’t grow.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So I’ve heard.” Caution kept her at the entrance to the cavern. “How badly are you injured?”

“I’ll be fine—just need to catch my breath.”

“You’re bleeding.” So much blood.

He exhaled with a grimace. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” Hurt filled her voice, no matter how hard she wanted to hide it. “I fell asleep, and here I am. You must be asleep and for once not blocking me.” Unless he’d passed out. He had probably passed out.

He closed his eyes again. For a man, he had dark, thick lashes. She’d known he’d be handsome, but hadn’t realized how very much. High cheekbones created manly hollows in his face, rugged and strong. The chin that had once been stubborn had grown into a thick jaw, one with an intriguing cleft in the middle. Barely. But enough of one to pique her curiosity. A scar ran from his right temple to his jaw, making him look dangerous. Deadly even.

In all her visions, in all her dreams, she’d never seen the scar.

A deep exhale sent more blood cascading down his defined abs. Whoever he’d battled had done a good job of injuring him.

No way was she letting Zane die during her dream. Thank God he still breathed. Even though he’d hurt her, she needed him to be alive. “Why did you stop talking to me?”

He sighed. “I’m sorry we had to stop talking.”

Anger swirled in her chest. “That’s not an answer.”

Long, tapered fingers reached for his shirt, which he used to wipe blood off his torso. Inhaling, he stared at the opposite wall, and the wounds slowly began to close. “You need to leave, Janie.”

Enough with the orders. She strode into the center of the room. “You’ve blocked me for years. Apparently you’re too injured to block now.” Another step closer, and she halted. “Do you need blood?” Her heart sped up at the thought.

He started. “No.” Sweeping one hand out, he sat straighter, back against the wall. “Stay where you are.”

“Or what?” She lifted her chin.

He gave a strangled cough. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

That hurt. “Yes, I have. I’m almost seventeen.”

One dark eyebrow rose. “You turn sixteen next week.”

Warmth spread through her. He’d remembered her birthday. “I don’t suppose you planned to slip into my dreams and sing ‘Happy Birthday.’ ”

His gaze dropped to the horseshoe necklace. “Sorry.”

Desire to hide the necklace had her shoulders going back. They’d been friends and she cherished the token. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.” He bent a knee and rose unsteadily.

“No, I don’t. All I know is your father belonged to a group of vampires, and when he died, you disappeared.” She fought the very strong urge to touch him and help him up. “We can’t find out who you are.” So many times she’d asked Uncle Dage to find Zane, and so many times he said he couldn’t. She took in the battle gear, the knife strapped to Zane’s leg. “You’re obviously fighting. Who and where?”

His smile flashed the twin dimples she used to love. “Here and now.” One hand on the wall flexed impressive muscles as he struggled to stand.

Janie took a step back. Huge. He’d gotten so big. Why couldn’t she have gotten taller, darn it? “Did you stop visiting me because of our age difference?” Only way to get the truth was to ask the question.

He leaned against the rock, head back, gaze on her under half-closed lids. “No.”

“Then why?” She’d needed him. No matter how old he was.

“Doesn’t matter. We can’t be friends who jump into each other’s dreams. It isn’t safe.”

That wasn’t an explanation. Who the heck was he? “Are you part shifter?” What kind of animal lurked inside her old friend?

“Forget about me, Janie. I’m on the front line, and no way am I going to see my next birthday. You’re almost grown up—face reality.”

The condescension in the “almost grown up” statement had her gritting her teeth. “Didn’t figure you for such a quitter, Zane.” Instant satisfaction welled up in her as his eyes sparked fire. “Apparently you just got your butt kicked. Need some help from the vampires?”

His fangs flashed. “I am a vampire.”

Tingles rippled through her skin. “You’re not with the Realm.”

The deadly points retracted. “Not all vampires are with the Realm.”

A true statement, to be sure. But there was something more. “What else, Zane?”

He lowered his chin while his shoulders went back. “You made my childhood bearable, Janie, and I thank you. But this is the last time we’re ever going to talk.”

For just a moment, she saw the boy she’d loved. Her only friend for those scary years when she’d first learned of the Kurjans. “You need me more than I need you.” The statement surprised her, but instinct had her whispering the truth.

His smile brought back more good times. “Take care of yourself, Belle.”

With a sweep of his arm, the dream disappeared.

She awoke, sitting up in bed, her hand going to the necklace. Never talk again? That was what he thought. Throwing on sweats, she tied her hair in a band and ran through the underground fortress to Dage’s control room.

Knocking, she waited for the door to smoothly slide open. Memories assailed her—she’d always visited her uncle in underground rooms like this, and he’d always let her in. Not once had he denied her entrance to a room most of the world didn’t know existed.

Stepping lightly, she maneuvered around a counter of computers that often had several people typing away. Today, it was empty. She continued on to where her uncle sat in his leather chair, sketching in a notebook. His thick black hair was tied at his nape and he wore dark sparring clothes. Many people feared the king of the vampires, yet the massive vampire had always been her soft spot to land. A kindred spirit. “Uncle Dage?”

He turned his head, a forced smile on his face. She’d known him almost her entire life, and she knew his real smile. He’d often gifted her with it. “Have a vision, sweetheart?”

“No. The universe is too unsettled for visions.” Such odd words to string together and ones she wouldn’t share with many people. But Dage understood. She peered at a partially sketched drawing of Aunt Emma working in the lab. “Pretty.”

“Yes. Very pretty.” Dage glanced at the paper and sighed. “I just came from a meeting aboveground and thought I’d get some perspective down here.”

“By drawing Emma’s face?” Janie grinned.

Dage exhaled. “Old habits die hard. I’ve spent three centuries drawing her face, and I found the exercise relaxes me. Even now.”

Sweet, and it made sense. Janie cleared her throat. “I’ve been trying real hard to see what happens with Jordan, but nothing is clear.”

“I’m with you. I’ve got nothing.” Dage leaned to the side and lifted a thick leather chair as if furniture weighed nothing, setting it next to his. “What’s going on?”

She exhaled softly, putting on her most beguiling expression. Being the only human toddler around a bunch of dangerous vampires, she’d quickly learned how to charm them. “It’s time you started trusting me, Uncle Dage.”

His dimples flashed. Good. His real smile. “I do trust you. Stop manipulating me.”

She rolled her eyes and gave a small laugh. “Okay. For years you’ve kept the truth about Zane away from me, and I know you checked him out. Tell me the truth.”

The king turned his head to the side, pinning her with a shrewd gaze.

She held it, not turning away. Few people existed who could meet the king in a staring contest. Finally, Janie lifted an eyebrow in a show of boredom.

Dage threw back his head and laughed, deep and hard. “I give up.” Reaching for a keyboard, he punched in keys and a screen appeared in the quartz wall. Two seconds later, twelve-year-old Zane filled the space.

Janie gasped. Warmth and an odd hurt centered in her chest. “Zane.” He smiled into the shot, green eyes light, hair dark and long. Young and innocent, and seemingly happy. Before the sad and angry glint entered his eyes.

“Zane Kyllwood.” Dage clicked a few more keys and an immense man with Zane’s eyes came up on the screen. “Here’s his father, Dane.”

Zane looked just like his daddy from the dark hair to the sharp jaw and large frame. They both had tough faces and kind eyes. “Where is he?”

Dage exhaled. “Dane led a faction of vampires in eastern Australia that didn’t belong to the Realm. All former soldiers, all former assassins, they created a coalition and lived off the grid, not giving us any trouble, but protecting their own.” Another click of the keys and a smoldering, demolished town came into view. “They were attacked by either Kurjans, rogue shifters, or demons about ten years ago, and I believed no one survived.”

“Zane survived. I told you that when he came to me ten years ago and said he was moving to live with his mother’s people.”

“I know, and I’ve searched high and wide for him. But whoever his mother is, there’s no trace of her.”

“I wonder if he’s a shifter.” Janie pursed her lips. “I’ve always known he was more than pure vampire.”

Dage nodded. “His father was a vampire with a vampire father and shifter mother—wolf shifter. I traced the lineage back and he’s related to feline and multi shifters as well—on his paternal grandmother’s side. Of course, there are vampires all the way back on his father’s side.”

It was so weird that vampires only made male babies, no matter who they mated with. “So maybe his mama is a shifter and they’re living with a shifter clan off the grid.” Fate whispered in Janie’s ear that she needed to find her old friend and now. “I saw him in a dream this morning. He was wounded in battle, so you need to find information on all battles occurring yesterday.”

Dage nodded. “I’ll try. But after ten years of keeping my ear to the ground regarding your dream friend, I’ve not once found his mother or her people. Don’t hold your breath, little one.”

“I won’t.” She’d find Zane through dreams, if necessary. “You’re dressed for sparring, Uncle Dage.”

Her uncle nodded, a hard light cutting through his eyes. “Yes. We’re training with Jordan today—wish me luck.”

Something told her Jordan would need the luck.