angled around Caleb, his eyes narrowed. “Prophet Sotheby, you seem . . . focused.”
“I am, King.” The words held both menace and promise.
Fascination shot through Caleb to settle hard in his groin. The woman had layers he wanted to unpeel and savor. This layer, this mood . . . was new.
The screen crackled, and the leader of the Kurjan nation came into focus. Franco was about four hundred years old, his eyes a Kurjan purple and his hair a deep red with black tips. White-faced and allergic to the sun, he appeared more ghoul than powerful leader. “King Kayrs,” he said, his gaze sliding instantly toward Lily.
Caleb leaned forward, his arm flexing with the need to draw Lily close. “We’d like to renegotiate the location of the peace talks.” It was a long shot, but he’d insisted on the chance. Having Lily in the same cavern with the monstrous Kurjan leader made Caleb want to puke. Or kill. Yeah. Kill.
Franco nodded, pursing blood red lips. “I’m happy to conduct more of a one-on-one negotiation. Anytime.”
Fury roared at the base of Caleb’s neck, but Lily spoke before he could respond. “With today’s technology, there’s no reason we have to meet in person for negotiations,” she said, clasping her hands on the sturdy table.
Franco flashed sharp canines. “We must sign the contract in blood.”
“Then use Fed-Ex after you sign,” Prophet Guiles said dryly.
Franco sighed and focused on Dage. “You can’t have our blood, and you know it.”
Caleb couldn’t disagree. Blood held power, and with the scientific advantages the Kurjans had reached in the last decades, he particularly didn’t want them to have the blood of any vampire, especially the king. “We don’t need to sign in blood,” he said slowly.
Dage nodded. “How about we sign in ink?”
“No.” Franco leaned back in what appeared to be a leather chair. “Contracts require blood to bind, and then we burn them. The ways of our forefathers must be followed.”
Caleb kept his face stoic. He’d known the Kurjans wouldn’t agree to ink, and neither would the demons. But he’d given it a shot as one last chance to keep both Lily and Janie far away from their enemies. Now he had to convince Lily to skip the negotiations. He couldn’t protect the king if he was worried about Lily. “Fine.”
Franco cleared his throat. “We also demand more than two representatives at the talks.”
“No.” Dage’s jaw hardened. “Each species has two representatives—a dignitary and a bodyguard.”
Franco slammed a hand down on his desk. “Not counting the chosen one, you have two soldiers, and three prophets. That’s five.”
Lily leaned forward. “The prophets represent all species on earth and will serve as mediators. We do not belong solely to the Realm.”
Franco’s eyes swirled from purple to a dark red. “So you belong to me also, do you?” His voice lowered to guttural, and a high flush spread across his pasty cheekbones.
Caleb growled low, startled when Lily’s foot connected with his shin. Had the lady just kicked him?
“We will attend the talks to broker peace,” Lily said, her voice clear and sure.
“At what cost?” Franco asked softly, his gaze tracing her face.
Caleb lowered his chin. The Kurjan had better stop flirting with his woman. “As per tradition enacted after the Kurjans killed a prophet, the prophets are protected by all races.” He put every ounce of threat he could into his tone, and purposely didn’t use Miles Sotheby’s name. The Kurjan who had killed Miles was long dead, and Caleb didn’t want to upset Lily any more than was necessary.
Franco swung his gaze toward Caleb. “I had wondered if the marking would tame you, Prophet Donovan. Never had I thought to see you hiding behind tradition.”
Caleb slid on an easy smile. If the fucking Kurjan thought he could get under Caleb’s skin, he was in for disappointment. “Why don’t you and I meet up before the negotiations and explore
“I am, King.” The words held both menace and promise.
Fascination shot through Caleb to settle hard in his groin. The woman had layers he wanted to unpeel and savor. This layer, this mood . . . was new.
The screen crackled, and the leader of the Kurjan nation came into focus. Franco was about four hundred years old, his eyes a Kurjan purple and his hair a deep red with black tips. White-faced and allergic to the sun, he appeared more ghoul than powerful leader. “King Kayrs,” he said, his gaze sliding instantly toward Lily.
Caleb leaned forward, his arm flexing with the need to draw Lily close. “We’d like to renegotiate the location of the peace talks.” It was a long shot, but he’d insisted on the chance. Having Lily in the same cavern with the monstrous Kurjan leader made Caleb want to puke. Or kill. Yeah. Kill.
Franco nodded, pursing blood red lips. “I’m happy to conduct more of a one-on-one negotiation. Anytime.”
Fury roared at the base of Caleb’s neck, but Lily spoke before he could respond. “With today’s technology, there’s no reason we have to meet in person for negotiations,” she said, clasping her hands on the sturdy table.
Franco flashed sharp canines. “We must sign the contract in blood.”
“Then use Fed-Ex after you sign,” Prophet Guiles said dryly.
Franco sighed and focused on Dage. “You can’t have our blood, and you know it.”
Caleb couldn’t disagree. Blood held power, and with the scientific advantages the Kurjans had reached in the last decades, he particularly didn’t want them to have the blood of any vampire, especially the king. “We don’t need to sign in blood,” he said slowly.
Dage nodded. “How about we sign in ink?”
“No.” Franco leaned back in what appeared to be a leather chair. “Contracts require blood to bind, and then we burn them. The ways of our forefathers must be followed.”
Caleb kept his face stoic. He’d known the Kurjans wouldn’t agree to ink, and neither would the demons. But he’d given it a shot as one last chance to keep both Lily and Janie far away from their enemies. Now he had to convince Lily to skip the negotiations. He couldn’t protect the king if he was worried about Lily. “Fine.”
Franco cleared his throat. “We also demand more than two representatives at the talks.”
“No.” Dage’s jaw hardened. “Each species has two representatives—a dignitary and a bodyguard.”
Franco slammed a hand down on his desk. “Not counting the chosen one, you have two soldiers, and three prophets. That’s five.”
Lily leaned forward. “The prophets represent all species on earth and will serve as mediators. We do not belong solely to the Realm.”
Franco’s eyes swirled from purple to a dark red. “So you belong to me also, do you?” His voice lowered to guttural, and a high flush spread across his pasty cheekbones.
Caleb growled low, startled when Lily’s foot connected with his shin. Had the lady just kicked him?
“We will attend the talks to broker peace,” Lily said, her voice clear and sure.
“At what cost?” Franco asked softly, his gaze tracing her face.
Caleb lowered his chin. The Kurjan had better stop flirting with his woman. “As per tradition enacted after the Kurjans killed a prophet, the prophets are protected by all races.” He put every ounce of threat he could into his tone, and purposely didn’t use Miles Sotheby’s name. The Kurjan who had killed Miles was long dead, and Caleb didn’t want to upset Lily any more than was necessary.
Franco swung his gaze toward Caleb. “I had wondered if the marking would tame you, Prophet Donovan. Never had I thought to see you hiding behind tradition.”
Caleb slid on an easy smile. If the fucking Kurjan thought he could get under Caleb’s skin, he was in for disappointment. “Why don’t you and I meet up before the negotiations and explore
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