Alpha's Promise Read online

  Now only one of Ivar’s eyebrows lifted, and it was more of a twitch. “Hello,” he said smoothly, shaking hands. He towered over the professor by at least six inches, and Mark was tall. Well, for a human. “Do you always barge in?”

  Mark pulled his hand free, and Ivar let him. “Promise and I go way back.”

  Pinpricks danced along Promise’s spine. What was happening? Tension filtered through the room, and she pondered the puzzle, finally reaching a conclusion. They were posturing? Over her? She leaned back against the crammed bookshelf to watch. This was new.

  Ivar smiled, and the sight was a threat. “Well, Missy and I are enjoying the present.”

  Red flushed through Mark’s face. “Missy?”

  Ivar lifted a shoulder. “Nickname. Just mine. You can’t use it.”

  All right. This was quickly descending into something that would destroy the organized chaos in her office and probably result in Mark enduring broken bones. Promise pushed off the bookshelf. “Mark? Don’t you have a class to teach?”

  The math professor looked at his watch and then straightened. “Yes. I was just popping by to tell you I could cover your supersymmetry class for the rest of the semester, since we don’t have grad students advanced enough to do so.” He smiled at Ivar. “I read her sabbatical request in the office.”

  “I helped her compose it,” Ivar returned.

  Oh, for Pete’s sake. Promise fought a laugh and made herself nod. “That’s wonderful. Thank you, Mark.”

  He hesitated. “I understand that you need to take some time off.” He eyed Ivar. “For personal reasons.”

  Ivar growled, and Promise jumped, looking toward him. He looked back with a guileless expression on his hard-cut face. “What?” he asked.

  Had she imagined the noise? Maybe. “I’m healing from the car crash and working on a theory for that grant,” she said. “It’s got me, and I want to work the problem all the time. I’m sure you understand.”

  Mark looked Ivar up and down. “I understand the math problem.”

  Ivar took a step toward him. “Perhaps I can help you understand the personal issue.”

  Promise held up a hand. “Mark? I appreciate your help with the class, and I’ll make sure to keep you appraised of my work on the theory.” She used her crispest voice, and it was a clear dismissal.

  Mark paused and then nodded, disappearing back out into the hallway.

  Promise crossed her arms and stared at Ivar.

  “What?” he asked, his rugged face the perfect picture of innocence.

  Why did she feel so good? Almost delighted at the moment? She’d have to explore that later. “It’s going to take me an hour or so to get organized, and you’re way too distracting. Any chance you can patrol the hallway without causing gaggles of girls to follow you?” Most were in class right now, anyway.

  His smile was more than mildly arrogant. “Distracting, huh?” He pulled her close for a hard and what felt like possessive kiss. “Okay.” Then he was gone, smoothly shutting the door behind him.

  Her lips tingled along with the rest of her body. From one kiss. A proprietal one. At least, that’s how she’d qualify it. The only way to know would be to ask what he was feeling when he had kissed her, and she’d learned early on that most people didn’t like to be questioned about their feelings. Ivar might be different, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable right when they’d become lovers.

  She’d really like to engage in sex with him again. He was superb at it, and she’d never felt like that before. Ever.

  She shook her head to regain control of herself and then moved to one of the file cabinets, where she thought she’d left a partially used notebook on a theory seeking evidence of a higher dimension. She had set it aside months ago to follow new math on Standard Model observables. Ah. There it was. She took it out and then considered what else she’d need for the next month or so. Or longer.

  Her office was a mess. Well, she knew where everything had been placed, but the piles of books, papers, and notebooks might amount to a fire hazard. She should probably organize it a mite more before leaving on sabbatical.

  The cast-iron vent in the ceiling opened, and a tall male body dropped down in one smooth motion. Papers and a couple of notebooks scattered across the floor.

  She blinked. Shock kept her immobile for about a second, and then she opened her mouth to scream for Ivar.

  “Don’t scream.” The man pulled a gun from the back of his waist. A green gun.

  Her breath stopped. She swallowed.

  The man had long black hair tipped with red, deep green eyes, and pale skin. No way was he human. He stood to at least six seven, and he held the gun casually, slightly pointed away from her. “I just want to talk.”

  She held the notebook to her chest. The desk was between them, but that wouldn’t stop a bullet. “Then you shouldn’t have a gun pointed at me,” she said, her voice shaking.

  “It’s not pointed at you.” He smiled, revealing smooth white teeth.

  She’d expected fangs. Not sure why. She tilted her head. “Who are you?” If Ivar came crashing in the door, he’d get shot. And that green gun was one of those laser-spurting immortal guns.

  His smile smoothed out. “My name is Dayne, and I’m the leader of the Kurjan nation.” When she didn’t panic or scream her head off, he continued. “Honestly, I just want to talk to you. I’ll leave as soon as you’ve heard me out. I waited to come near your office because I didn’t want the hybrid to sense me. It was uncomfortable in that vent system.”

  She looked toward the sunny fall day outside, her stomach cramping painfully. Sweat broke out on her hands. “I thought the sun killed you.”

  “It does. Hence the trip through your ancient and rather dusty ventilation system.” He wiped off his dusty gray button-down shirt, which was tucked into black jeans over large boots. Very large. “Wouldn’t you like to understand the composition of our skin, of our muscles, even our bones, that makes them susceptible to the sun?”

  “I would very much,” she admitted. “But last time I checked, you people were tearing apart physicists.” Her heart beat so fast it hurt to breathe.

  He rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t us. Why do the damn vampires blame us for everything?” He shook his head. “They have a wolf in the sheep pen, and they’re blaming us.” He lowered the gun even more. “I swear, it’s hard being everyone’s villain. Day in and day out. I should grow a mustache.”

  Promise lifted one eyebrow. “I should tell you that not once in my life have I found anybody charming.”

  He straightened and drew back a bit, his face classically angled. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh.” He looked around the messy office, his voice low and light. “That’s unfortunate. Charm is my strong suit.”

  She tilted her head, her body on alert in case she needed to flee. “It still isn’t working.”

  His gaze sharpened, and he looked at her fully. “You are smart. I like that.”

  “What do you want, Dayne?” she asked, edging toward the open window to stand full in the sunlight. It heated her, providing a slight sense of protection.

  He watched her move, waiting until she had found a spot before continuing. “I’m asking you to use logic and not emotion. Ulric is the leader of our Cyst sect, which is our religious arm. They’re monks who look creepy.” He spread out his hands. “A thousand years ago, the Seven decided Ulric was becoming too powerful, and they imprisoned him in a hell dimension far away.”

  She huffed. “Nobody is in a dimension. A dimension is not a place. Ulric is at a point somewhere in this universe or another universe. I assume in this time, but who knows if time was warped. But he is not in a dimension.”

  Dayne shook his head. “Why did we ever give humans that word? We used it long before you did. I’ve heard rumor it’s E
instein’s fault.”

  She swallowed. The conversation was getting odd. “You should leave.”

  He sobered. “We want your help to get him out so he can be safe again. Sooner rather than later.”

  “I’ve seen your Cyst at work,” she returned softly. “They’re soldiers, not monks.”

  Dayne lifted his chin. “If you’ve studied religion at all through the centuries, often soldiers and monks are one and the same. He didn’t do anything wrong, but the Seven passed judgment all on their own. No trial, no defense, just imprisonment in hell. His bubble is going to break anyway, and we’d like to make sure he survives the event. Please help us.”

  She steeled her shoulders. “Did you kill Dr. Rashad?”

  “No.” Dayne kept the weapon pointed at the floor. “I’m telling you, it’s a different faction. Not Kurjans. Somebody within the vampire world, within the Realm, who doesn’t want the bubbles to burst. They don’t want Quade Kayrs back on earth any more than they do Ulric. Having the Seven in one place represents too much power. This world, the one you’re still trying to figure out, will implode from it. Gone. All of us.” He shrugged. “Except fairies. They can go elsewhere. At the end, the crazy fairies will survive.”

  “Fae,” Promise said automatically.

  Dayne smiled again. “I’m just a single dad trying to save the world. Please help me.”

  The guy really did have the charm down. “You’re a dad.”

  He tugged a worn wallet from his back pocket and flipped it open, holding up a picture of a cute kid with really green eyes. The kid looked more human than his dad. “His name is Drake. Named after a relative. He’s visiting family close by right now.”

  “Where’s his mother?” Promise asked.

  Dayne shook his head. “She didn’t survive the last war.” He swallowed, his throat moving as he put the wallet back in place. “Please just tell me you’ll consider what I’ve said.”

  “I already have.” She backed up until she all but sat on the sunny windowsill. “Ivar!” she screamed. “Help!”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ivar tore into Promise’s office, smashing the door into the back of something solid. He kicked it open, and a bookcase fell over with a loud crash. The second his gaze landed on his woman, his heart stopped trying to burst out of his ribs. Fury caught him, and he tried to banish emotion for the first time in months. His blood felt like it was about to boil. “You okay?”

  She sat on the windowsill, clutching a notebook to her chest. “He shoved the bookcase in front of the door with one hand,” she said, her eyes wide. “Just one hand. Like it weighed nothing, and his movement was too fast for me to see. The guy was just a blur. Then he jumped.”

  Ivar looked frantically around, his gaze catching on an open grate in the ceiling. “Who?”

  “Dayne. Kurjan leader. He’s—”

  Before she could finish, Ivar was already in motion, leaping up and yanking himself into the opening. His shoulders were too wide, and he crashed through the adjacent ceiling tiles, sending them spiraling down. The metal cut into his hands as he held himself aloft. “All alert. We’ve got a Kurjan in the ducts,” he said into his comms, looking one way and then the other down the empty tubes. What the fuck? He couldn’t leave Promise unguarded, and the ducts probably wouldn’t take his weight. He’d end up falling into a classroom and probably killing whoever he landed on. Even though Kurjans were tall, they weren’t as large as hybrids. The need to chase the bastard was a physical burn through his blood.

  He dropped back down, his boots cracking more tiles on the ground. “The ducts are different than on the blueprints,” he said, taking in Promise from head to toe. She appeared unharmed. The need to touch her, to pull her close, shocked him.

  “Renovations in the fifties, I think,” she said. Her eyes widened. “There are tunnels from even before that time—from the first incarnation of the school. As undergrads, we’d go down there and diagram equations on the walls. There are some famous ones there.” She pushed off the windowsill and dropped her notebook. “I’ll show you.”

  He grabbed her hand and ran into the hallway, grateful it was empty during the class hour. Her touch calmed him so he could plan. The rest of the team had to move and now. “We have a rabbit,” he said into the comms. “Head north and down.”

  She struggled to keep up as they ran through the halls to the north entrance, her breath panting. “Slow down. Keep going to the end of this hallway, and there’s a boiler room down a couple of flights. It’s a way into the tunnels that the students don’t know about. Only faculty. As students, we went to the edge of the campus to enter in order to follow the tunnels. They go in many directions.”

  “Where?” he growled, slowing down enough that she didn’t trip. “Where did you enter them?”

  “Beyond the parking area by the east side of campus. It’s by what’s now the water reclamation facility,” she gasped, partially bending over as they reached a locked door that was just opposite the double doors leading out to a courtyard.

  “Tunnel entry at east end—forget the north,” he barked into the comms. “Get there, now.” He put his boot to the door, springing the old metal open to slam into the wall. Narrow cement steps, dirty and marred by oil, led down into darkness. He had to get her to safety before he followed the enemy. She was all that mattered. “Go outside into the sun and stay there. Right in the middle of the lawn and away from any trees.”

  “I can lead you down,” she said, angling her head to look beyond him.

  Energy signatures wafted up, and his gut settled. His hackles rose, and his muscles elongated. “There are too many soldiers down there.” He could feel them. Dayne hadn’t come alone, which made sense, because he was the fucking leader of all the Kurjans. And he’d been in Promise’s office, alone with her. He could’ve done anything to her. Rage filled Ivar, but he shoved it away as fast as he could. “Missy?” He used the nickname on purpose. “Get your ass into the sunlight.”

  She huffed. “You might need help finding your way.”

  “I can sense them. At least four of them, maybe more.” His thigh muscles bunched with the need to run down there. To fight and attack. “Get outside.”

  “Four of them? You can’t take four of them by yourself.” She pulled on his arm. “The tunnels go in a lot of directions, and you might be walking into a trap. Get backup first. Even I know that.”

  He shook his head. “Four is nothing. Now do as I say.”

  She turned toward the outside, hesitating. “Dayne showed me a picture of his child. A cute boy.”

  “He talked to you? For how long?” Ivar hadn’t been doing his job if the enemy had time to freaking have a discussion with her.

  She shrugged, the color finally returning to her pretty face. “I don’t know. Ten minutes? He said there’s a rogue vampire killing physicists. Asked for my help.”

  And yet she’d yelled for him. Good. She trusted him. “Go.” Ivar pushed her not so gently toward the outside door.

  “He’s a single dad. Maybe you shouldn’t kill him,” she muttered, finally following his command and walking toward the door. The second sunlight filtered over her, he finally breathed easier. A little. Not much.

  Oh, if he got his hands on Dayne, he’d rip the Kurjan’s head right off. “I have no doubt his kid is just as dangerous as he is—if not more.” With that, Ivar turned and leaped down the stairs, taking five at a time. He hoped to God there were soldiers to fight at the bottom.

  He really needed to punch somebody.

  * * * *

  He hadn’t gotten to hit anybody. Hours later, after having extensively searched the tunnels, Ivar reined in his temper, absently noting that it was alive and wanted to blow. One night with the sexy professor, and he was feeling again. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. Ronan can’t
teleport, so he doesn’t make my head hurt. And Benny did at first, but not as badly as last time. I think I have it under control now.” She smiled. “My head doesn’t ache at all.” She leaned against him in the backseat of the SUV while Ronan drove with Benny in the passenger seat. Adare drove a Harley up ahead, scouting the way back to the campground before circling around and making sure they weren’t followed.

  Nighttime was starting to fall, and the sun had disappeared, leaving a definite chill. A promise that winter was soon coming.

  Ivar set his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. The Kurjans had been familiar with the tunnels beneath the college and had escaped easily. How long had they been studying the facility? The idea that they’d been close to Promise for a while sent bile up his throat. He needed his peanuts. His fangs dropped, and he forced them back into place before she could notice. “Tell me everything Dayne said to you.” His voice was a low growl.

  She sighed, grabbed his arm, and shifted her weight to straddle him.

  His eyelids opened fast, and he jerked. “What in the hell are you doing?” Benny and Ronan were in the front seat, for Pete’s sake. Nobody caught him off guard—except this intellectual professor.

  “Trying to get you to calm down and focus on something other than the fight you just missed.” With dusk falling outside, her eyes were a light bourbon color inside the vehicle.

  Ivar angled to the side to find both of his brothers staring straight ahead. Benny’s mouth twitched almost in a smile, but irritated lines cut along the sides of Ronan’s mouth. He hated missing a good fight as well. The road remained clear ahead, and Adare zoomed by once again, scouting in every direction. Well. If she didn’t mind their audience, neither would he. Ivar planted his hands on her hips and pulled her even closer. “I’m not thinking about my missed fight any longer.” His cock pulsed in his cargo pants.