He’d never been anything but. “I’m more than willing to die to make the world safe,” Paxton said easily, yanking his puzzle book out of his pocket and shoving it onto an open shelf beneath his computer. “I didn’t think I’d make it this long. But anything else you have planned, besides stopping the ritual, will take you straight to hell.”
“That’s doubtful. Also, if you’d stop playing stupid games all the time, you’d get more accomplished,” Fralep said, standing shoulder to shoulder with his friend and gesturing toward the game book. “I want a plan to finally obtain those blood samples from the lab. Otherwise, we’ll go after Hope and the Keys themselves.”
Paxton chuckled, and the sound was dark. “There is no way you’ll reach the three Keys.”
According to legend, the ritual that could kill Ulric required the blood of three female Keys and the Lock, who was Hope. He had spent enough time around the Queen of the Realm to know that she had combined the blood of all four females multiple times, trying to figure out how that concoction would actually kill Ulric, who was immortal.
Centuries ago, the monster had killed a hundred enhanced females in a secret ritual that had strengthened his outer body so his head could not be cut off, unlike the rest of the immortals. Legend said that only the blood of the three Keys would take him down. Not even the legends spoke of what Hope’s role was as the Lock.
Henric snarled. “I don’t need to be the one to infiltrate the Seven’s headquarters. We know where they are now. Allowing that information to leak out would take care of the issue for me. In fact, I think I’ll send that information to the Kurjans very soon.”
Santino shook his head. “I thought you were a much better male when we formed this group. We came together to combat the violation of the laws of physics perpetrated by the Seven when they built those other worlds.” His sigh was tortured. “You’ve gone down a dark path.”
“And we’re going to keep going down that path,” Henric said smoothly. “Paxton? I do hope you remember what happened last time you forgot to whom you owe your allegiance.”
Sprawled deceptively calmly in a heavy rolling chair, Paxton just looked at him, not giving the bastard the satisfaction of an answer. Even so, that damn clock was ticking down, and he’d have to make a move soon.
A light glinted in Henric’s eyes that Paxton hadn’t noticed before. It was deep and dark and swirling with madness. “I’d hate to have to teach that lesson to the Lock.”
Paxton exploded out of his chair with blurring speed, grabbing Henric’s shirt and twisting, shoving the man against the rock wall. He leaned in, his gaze penetrating as he attacked the male’s mind.
Henric paled and then snarled, striking upward to break the hold. “Get out of my head, you freak.”
Paxton didn’t release him. “Freak? I don’t think so. I’m the killer you all created, and don’t you ever forget it. I’ve done everything you asked, and for a while, I did so willingly. But the line has always been crystal clear. Hurt Hope, and you die, and I ain’t gonna go slow. You don’t want to threaten her again, Henric. Trust me.”
“Paxton,” his uncle said wearily, “let him go. We’re in this, right or wrong.”
It was definitely wrong, and every one of those males was underestimating him if they thought he was under their control. Slowly, Paxton released the jerk and took a step back, withdrawing the demon mind attack. He was getting better at those.
“Tomorrow night,” Henric repeated, straightening his shirt, hatred darkening his face. “Or we go with plan B.” He turned and swept out of the room. Fralep gave Paxton a dirty look and then followed him. The door shut quietly.
“I’m real sorry about this, boy,” Santino said. “I should have stuck with studying butterflies.”
Pax scrubbed both hands down his face. “It’s a little late for that.” There was no doubt Henric was done waiting.
Paxton had put him off for years as they’d slowly infiltrated the computer system of the Realm and hunted for the Keys, who were hidden away. They had found them all. In other words, they had found the headquarters of the Seven. It was all coming together too quickly for Paxton to handle. He needed to stop and think. He had no problem dying for the cause, but Hope’s life had been at stake for more than two years.
She didn’t even know.
He looked at his uncle and dropped back onto his chair. “We have no choice. I’ll break into the lab tomorrow.” Without looking, he reached between the pages of his crossword puzzle book beneath the desk and finished the last fold on a piece of paper he’d been working on for six months.
It was time.
Chapter Nine The atmosphere of Hope’s house calmed and settled after her father left. She’d truthfully told him over a year ago that she could no longer create dreamworlds, and his relief had been palpable. However, she hadn’t shared her thoughts about why.
It had to be Paxton. She’d only been able to form the worlds when Paxton was near her. Now she was older and stronger, so hopefully he didn’t have to be in the same room with her, just nearby. There was only one way to find out.
She went to her bedroom to ditch her clothes and change into yoga gear. Her mind was spinning and dull at the same time, and she was so tired she could barely think. But she had to figure this out. She had known Paxton her entire life, and he wasn’t a traitor. The mere fact that her father had let him go today showed that Zane hadn’t condemned him completely either. Oh, they didn’t know what he was up to, and it didn’t look good, but Hope had to have some faith.
Her arm hurt, and she cradled it against her rib cage, willing healing cells to go to the fracture, yet nothing happened. She didn’t feel any different. She couldn’t even feel those cells. What if she were human, and what if she actually could die? She honestly hadn’t considered that to be a possibility until very recently. She knew she couldn’t heal herself as others did, and she sometimes caught human illnesses, but she’d never imagined she could actually die. What if one of those bullets today had hit her in the heart or the head?
Would her chromosomal pairs save her? Was she just like an enhanced human? Skilled somehow but still susceptible to death?
She shuddered and moved closer to the wide bank of windows that faced the lake. Snow drifted down lazily, covering her deck, and she shivered and pulled out her meditation pillow to sit. She eyed her bed, which looked so warm and inviting, but it was not to be. She had something to do, so she dropped into place and tried to clear her mind.
Calmness took much longer to reach than usual.
Finally, she found herself walking along the rocky, uneven ground next to a lazily rolling river. The sun was high in a blue sky, and it warmed her face. She looked down to note that her arm was still broken. She blinked, wondering if she could fix it in the dreamworld. Nothing happened. In fact, it hurt even worse.
She wandered for a while, picking her way along the grassy bank, trying to let the imaginary sun warm her. Across the river was an outcropping of rocks, and on a ledge sat her book, the green book she’d been trying to read her entire life. She thought about crossing the river, but it looked cold.