Kane tugged on one of Amber’s curls. “Apparently an Internet campaign was just launched against a leather factory last night, bombarding personal emails, business accounts, and even some governmental sites with images and names of executives.”
Amber blinked. “Wow. No kidding.”
Kane focused on Janie, who shook her head. “Don’t look at me. I know nothing about this one,” Janie said.
Amber hip-checked Kane. “All right. Garrett and I may have created a teeny campaign a while ago, before everyone became ill, and the Internet launch date was last night. Don’t blame Janie.”
Kane pressed a hard kiss to the top of Amber’s head. “I know exactly who to blame, don’t worry. And I will deal with you accordingly when I get home tonight.”
Amber finally extricated herself from Kane’s hold and flounced toward the doorway. “Promises, promises.” She turned and blew Kane a kiss before winking at Janie. “Later, Jane.” She disappeared.
Janie smiled. “Amber is trying too hard.”
“I know.” Kane sighed and grabbed another stack of papers. “She’s scared to death and wants to put on such a brave face. I’ll have to ease her mind somehow tonight.”
Janie swallowed as nausea rose from her belly. “I’m scared, too.”
Kane, the smartest man on the planet, turned toward her, a stack of useless papers in his hand. “You’re strong and brilliant. No matter what happens, you and little Kyllwood in there will survive. I have faith in you.”
A rush of energy rippled through Janie. “You need to survive, too.”
Kane nodded. “I’ll do my best. You make me proud, little niece. You always have.” He turned back toward the printer.
Emotion welled and fuzzed Janie’s vision. Why did that sound like another good-bye?
Month 3: Conn
“Harder,” Conn muttered, stepping back and twirling the wooden pole. “Hit harder, Jane.”
Janie’s feet danced on the mat, and she tightened the hold on her own pole. “I’m trying.”
Conn slid to the side and clapped her thigh with the pole. His normal scent of gunpowder and sage filled the room. “No, you’re not.”
She stepped back and huffed out a breath, dropping the pole to the mat. “Listen, buddy. You’re pale as hell, shaking, and slow. I’m pregnant, nauseous, and getting mad. Drop your pole.”
His eyes flashed an amused green, and he threw the pole across the room. “Want to grapple?”
“Not unless you want barf all over you.” At the moment, she’d like nothing better than to throw up on her pushy uncle. “What has gotten into you?”
“Meaning?” Conn reached down for a towel to wipe his forehead.
Janie kept her expression bland. They hadn’t worked out hard enough to even remotely break a sweat, and Conn appeared as if he’d just run eighty miles. Backward. “Why the new training schedule?” The schedule had appeared the previous day for pretty much all Kayrs mates and Janie.
Conn shrugged. “We’ve gotten complacent. The demons are consolidating their forces under Suri, and the Kurjans just won a big battle in Iceland and should be wanting another good fight soon. We all need to train.”
“That’s not all,” Janie said softly.
“No.”
She stared at her uncle, trying not to wince at the deep lines of fatigue and pain cut into his chiseled face. Conn was the strongest soldier ever born, and now loose skin sagged on what used to be steel-tough muscles. Gray sprinkled liberally through his brown hair. “What else?” she asked.
He dropped into a fighting stance. “If we don’t cure the virus, you all need to know how to fight. Even better than you do now.”
She shook her head. No way was Conn saying good-bye to her. Losing the Kayrs men as well as the myriad of vampires across the world who’d taken the virus into their bodies to save their mates would be a huge blow to the Realm. Personally, Janie couldn’t even consider the cost. “We will find a cure.”
“I know.”
Running footsteps echoed down the hallway, and they both turned as Moira Kayrs, Conn’s mate, ran inside. Moira’s wild red hair cascaded around her face, her eyes glowed a brilliant green, and blue flames danced on her bare arms. “Conn?”
