“Yes.” Janie eyed the helicopters, trying to remain calm. “We also ran simulations yesterday.”
“This is a bad idea,” Garrett said, facing their father over her head.
Talen nodded and clapped his son on the arm. Emotion glowed dark in his eyes, but his expression remained stoic and hard. “You have your orders. Protect headquarters in case the peace talks are just a diversion for an attack. We’ll be back tonight.” Taking Janie’s arm with a gentle touch, he escorted her to the nearest helicopter, where he jumped in beside her.
Dage Kayrs, the king of the Realm, turned from the pilot’s seat. He’d tied his dark hair back, probably in case of a fight, and his silver eyes were somber. “You ready?”
“Yes.” Janie folded her hands in her lap, meeting her uncle’s gaze as the sense of destiny clicked into place. “I’m ready.”
Two hours later, deep underground in an impossibly dangerous cavern, Janie settled onto a stone bench, her hands clasped on the stone table. The ride down into the earth had taken forever, yet she’d arrived much too quickly at one of the four entrances, each controlled by one of the species attending the talks.
A mutation in the laws of physics made survival in the room possible, allowing them to breathe so close to the earth’s core. The possibility existed that the safeguards put in place might fail, and she swallowed to keep from panicking.
The king sat to her right, looking nearly bored. He eyed the fire burning in the center. “Ever feel like we’ve challenged quantum physics one time too many?” he muttered.
Yes. God, yes. “I shouldn’t have, but I Googled fault lines on the Internet. The one beneath this cavern connects with the Andreas Fault,” she whispered.
He nodded. “If our safeguards fail, we’ll trigger the largest earthquake in history. Millions will die.”
Anxiety flattened her chest and compressed her lungs. She swallowed. “Great.”
Behind them stood her father, at guard. He was the only person who’d be allowed to stand in the room. Everyone else had agreed to sit behind solid rock.
It was more difficult to attack from a seated position.
But Talen could stand as a concession because Janie was attending the talks. Every species on earth had prophesied her birth, and her attendance was mandatory. But fate had failed to whisper why Janie was prophesied. She had no clue what to do to fulfill destiny, and the fear of failure squeezed like a vise.
“I’m sure our safeguards will hold. You okay?” Dage asked quietly, his gaze remaining on the roaring fire in the middle of the stone tables. The fire was necessary both for light, and because somehow the element assisted the quantum physics protecting the occupants.
“Yes,” she lied. “Just ready to get started.” Another lie. Why did the Kurjans and the demons have to arrive last? It was as if they wanted to make a big entrance. Enough with the waiting. She glanced around the tavern.
To her left sat the three prophets of the Realm. While they advised the Realm, they stood as the true spiritual leaders of the immortal world, and all species respected them. Prophet Lily sat regal in a flowing gown, her blue eyes sparkling like a lake in the peace of summer. The ancient Prophet Guiles wore a brown overcoat and had dark bags under his eyes. As a traitor to the Realm who’d tried to aid the Kurjans, he was fortunate to be breathing.
And finally, Prophet Caleb, Lily’s mate, looked pissed off and ready to hit anybody at any time. It was his normal expression, so Janie wasn’t alarmed.
Lily looked toward Janie and winked.
Misplaced humor bubbled up from Janie’s stomach. “Lily’s trying to calm me.”
Dage nodded. “I hope she can keep us all calm.”
Calm would be good.
Dage cleared his throat. “If something goes wrong, you run for the lift behind your father. Don’t hesitate.”
“I understand.” They’d been over the plan many times.
Frustration twisted Dage’s lip. “I can’t teleport from here. You know that. We’re too deep in the earth.”
“Yes.” Janie patted his arm. Vampires had extra abilities, but Dage was the only vampire she’d ever heard about who could teleport from one place to another. Probably because he was the king and from the ruling family.
Janie glanced past the prophets to the two men representing the shifter nations in the talks; they’d shared the vampires’ entrance to the cavern. Jordan Pride, head of the lions, and Terrent Vilks, head of the wolf nation, both sat without moving, attention on the openings in the rock where the Kurjans and demons would enter.
When shifters remained motionless, things were about to blow up.
Janie exhaled and counted to ten, trying to slow her heart rate. Immortals could sense fear, and she had to be a beacon right now. To keep her mind occupied, she glanced past Dage to the witches sitting regally at their table.
Vivienne Northcutt, the leader of the witches, sat at proper attention, waiting with no expression on her intelligent face. Next to her sat Moira Kayrs, Janie’s aunt, and a witch enforcer. Moira’s curly red hair had been pulled back, and her green eyes flashed five shades of plasma electricity. Deadly and ready.
