Paxton remained silent, searching again for a glimpse of Hope in any of the upstairs windows of the main lodge.
Drake chuckled, and the sound was grating. “Apparently the Kurjans have been conducting experiments for much longer than anybody realized.”
“Meaning what?” Paxton asked softly, returning his attention to the bastard who’d kidnapped him.
“Meaning you’re not a vampire-demon hybrid, Paxton Phoenix,” Drake said.
Pax remained silent, knowing Drake would continue. In the quiet, Drake looked at Hunter and cocked his head. His gaze became speculative. “Drake? You going to sleep there?” Paxton drawled, yanking his attention back where it should be.
Drake slowly turned to appraise him, near glee in his bizarre eyes. “You are a Kurjan-demon hybrid. You and Vero shared a father. Talt was a real bastard who liked to kill people slowly, and I have no doubt you’re just as twisted.” Drake threw back his head and laughed. “Welcome home, cousin. It is fitting you shall die amongst your own people.”
Just as Lyrica finished speaking, the door opened. All three women took a step back.
General Ulric stepped inside, more imposing and terrifying in real life than Hope had feared. She’d met him in his horrific prison world during a dream, but now that he was free, it appeared he’d rebuilt his health.
He stood to about six nine and was four hundred pounds of solid, raw muscle. His face was so pale he looked like a ghost, and one long line of white hair bisected his too-pale scalp and was braided down his back. He wore the battle gear of the Cyst and the Kurjans: black combat pants, a black vest with a multitude of medallions on his left breast, and black boots that had to be size twenty-four.
“Get out,” he ordered.
Lyrica and Genevieve scrambled to edge around him and flee. Hope couldn’t blame them.
She felt ridiculous in the fairy-tale gown, but even so, she put her shoulders back and her chin high. “It’s been a while, Ulric.” She was shocked that her voice didn’t tremble.
“I remember,” he said. “It was kind of you to visit me in my prison world.”
“Eh.” She lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t have anything going on that day.”
His gaze raked her body. “Do you know where my Intended is right now?”
“Nope. She’s mated. It’s too late for you to find her.”
He leaned closer, staring at her. It was an intimidating look. “My Destiny. I can’t wait to have her back in my hands.”
Dessie was currently mated to Garrett Kayrs, which meant there was no way she’d end up anywhere near Ulric again.
“You keep telling yourself that, buddy.” Hope tilted her head. “You know, I do wonder though. Since she’s an immortal mate who will live forever, does that mean you won’t get another Intended?” To her knowledge, there could only be one Intended living at any given time.
“I’ve found my one. I shall retake Destiny as soon as I finish our current campaign.”
“What is that campaign?”
He looked her over from head to toe. “You appear mighty breakable to me, Lock.”
A frisson of fear crept down her spine, but she didn’t let him see it. “I imagine most females look breakable to you.” It was good that he underestimated her. She didn’t know how, but if the chance came to kill him, she would take it.
“Tell me about the final ritual. Do you know how to kill me?” He drawled the words as if playing with her, but an intense curiosity swirled in his creepy purplish red eyes.
“Yes,” she lied. “We’re ready. In fact, I’m not even needed.”
His smile showed razor-sharp yellowed fangs. “That’s what I thought.”
It was odd they were in the same space while she was wide awake. In the dreamworld, there had been a haze between the two of them. With no haze, she could feel the evil emanating from his pores. Centuries ago, the only way to contain him was to mess with the laws of physics and create a prison world. Now they had the Keys, Lock, and the Keeper of the Circle. “You must be terrified that the Realm has the ingredients to destroy you.”
“Yet you’re here,” he said. “I don’t feel terrified. Rituals always work in my favor.”
“You know, I’m fine with dying if it means you go with me,” she admitted.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “But I will tell you a little secret. I do plan on performing the ritual again, for all of my Cyst soldiers. They need to be invincible as well.”
Her stomach lurched. “You’re going to kill hundreds of enhanced females?” It had taken the blood of a hundred women to make Ulric’s body impenetrable. “You can’t.”
“I shall. Just for a chosen few.” His smile revealed sharp fangs.
“Why tell me your plan?” It didn’t make sense.
His chuckle poured evil around the room. “I want you to dream about it. When it happens, and it will, I’ll let you have a front-row seat.”
She needed to throw up. “You’re evil.”
He shrugged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He grinned at his own joke, because he obviously didn’t care if she excused him or not. “There are two more enhanced females we just found in a nice little tavern outside of Anchorage, Alaska. You may meet them when I bring them here.”
“There is no need to perform that ritual again, and you know it. After spending centuries in a hell world, didn’t you do any introspection? It’s not too late for you to do the right thing. Save your soul.” She threw up her hands, noting how the long sleeves bounced and flounced and sparkled.
His gaze caught on the sparkles and then traveled to her breasts. “My soul will live forever back on this world. You’re such a pretty pet. I wonder what it would take for Drake to let me spend time with you before he mates you. You’re not safe right now.”
It was true. She wasn’t safe until she mated somebody, and then anybody who touched her would get a horrible rash. She met his gaze directly. “You’re not my type. Way too old.”
“That is permissible. I could live with the age gap,” he said.
Her knees trembled, but the stupid skirt hid the weakness.
“For now, your king awaits.” Ulric stepped to the side. “You should hasten to obey his orders. He may appear patient, but you’ve only witnessed that side of him. I look forward to your meeting his true countenance. You may then come crawling to me for solace.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The guards escorted Hope across the main living area to a heavy, shielded door on the far side of the fireplace. They knocked before opening it and then gestured her inside. She followed their directions and stopped at the sight of Drake sitting on a heavy leather sofa across from two matching chairs. The room was a large office complete with a conference table and several monitors on the wall.
An unmanned computer area formed an L-shaped desk in the far corner. “Come in,” he said, gesturing toward one of the chairs. His gaze swept her. “You look beautiful.”