Page 51 of Between Imminent Fates

“Then Kaien will stop his heart.”

Bitterness inched its way up Key’s throat. Though she wanted Torrin dead, killing him would set off a chain of events that’d seal the fate of those who would fall on the battlefield. There would be no changing it.

“Torrin couldn’t have been dealt with any earlier,” she explained into the tense silence. “If his death is suspicious, the newspaper he edits would’ve released an article identifying immortals as the culprit. Remmus is keyed up to run interference now.”

The technopath wouldn’t have been ready to act as the blocker any earlier. Nina’s third in command had only recently redeveloped his former skill after a case of psychic poisoning.

All that remained was one final warning.

“Torrin will be armed. If the conversation fails, disarm him immediately.”

If they did not, one of them would die.

Chapter Nineteen

Lucius

A faint hum capturedLucius’ attention as he woke. The feminine sound echoed from the ground floor, a level below where he currently snoozed enveloped in cool sheets.

Circe was painting.

Their new home on the banks of the North Carolina shore was built perfectly to their needs and those of their residents. Well outside the city limits of Kitty Hawk, the territory had formerly been Isaiah’s. Lucius’ vampire House had taken up residence after the disaster in California.

They’d lost thirteen vampires that day, and it’d stolen any peace of mind Lucius had had. Now, their secluded space was a haven, off the beaten path and unknown to the terrorists who’d pursued them so ruthlessly before.

Warding off the unbidden thoughts, Lucius quickly dressed and headed to the studio. His mate typically only painted when she was distressed, and she had good reason to be.

Tonight, they’d confront Torrin.

It had been seven weeks since Key had first disclosed the upcoming war. In the time since, Lucius had cared about little else, and Circe had gone through far too many canvases.

Hands curling into fists, he swallowed his bitter rage. He was still plagued by flashbacks of the torture he’d endured, but it had been getting better. TheCitizenshad done a number on him: stripping him of his freedom, his dignity, and his sight. The most important thing that’d come from that trial was the one fact that kept him going.

Lucius had met his mate.

Key’s visions—and meddling—had given him a chance to meet the woman he adored above all else. Circe had saved him from theCitizens,and she’d kept saving him every day since. It was a debt he hadn’t realized he owed to the foreseer until now.

The bright, airy studio was surrounded by floor to ceiling glass on three sides, allowing for natural light to illuminate her painting area. Reeds drummed against the glass, a symphony that’d have driven Lucius mad, but soothed his mate.

It had become her haven as soon as they’d moved in.

Outside, the light was gradually dying. Steaks of deep violet painted the sky, and the midnight blue that hailed from the eastern ocean swallowed what little sunlight remained.

The redhead had yet to notice him.

“Circe?”

She startled. Wrapping her in his arms, he pressed a reverent kiss into the sensitive skin on her neck. “Sorry, little mouse. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Just lost to my own thoughts.” Circe leaned back against his chest. “What we’re about to do, capturing Torrin: it’s so reminiscent of what happened to me.”

Lucius stiffened.

Both he and Circe had been taken against their will, but under vastly dissimilar circumstances. When Circe was still a youngling, word about her tracking ability had gotten out. Her and her mother had been living apart from Isaiah’s clan at that point. They had both been kidnapped by a rival clan so she could locate the deadly weapons calledmerjhasfor them.

Circe’s mother had been killed in the crosshairs, and Isaiah had teleported to her in a recovery attempt. He’d been forced to defend her against all twenty members of the rival clan. The night had been bloody and vicious.

Isaiah had slain all of them to save Circe’s life.

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