a fairy instead of a Fae. She had to jump up to do it, but it still hurt. Both names are wimpy sounding, if you ask me, and they mean the same damn thing.” Benny shook his head. “That fairy is crazy.”
Well, so was Benny. Maybe Promise had some sort of “insane” detector? Could that be a human enhancement like being an empath? Ivar bit back a grin. “What else?”
“Nothin’.” Benny chewed thoughtfully. “She’s Fae, and she loves numbers and shit. I like to fight.” He held out his hand to offer candy, and when Ivar shook his head, he went back to chewing. “We both don’t like strawberries, but she lied yesterday about being allergic to broccoli. Just doesn’t like that salad that Faith makes and didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I hate broccoli and had no problem telling Faith her salad sucked. Then she punched me.” He shook his head sadly. “I don’t know why the females around here like to hit me.”
Faith. She was a neurosurgeon as well as being Ronan’s mate. “Where is Faith?” Maybe the doctor could explain some of this.
Benny shrugged. “How should I know? I just got here.” He popped the rest of the candy into his mouth. “When did Kane Kayrs show up in town?”
“Last night.”
“Figures.” Benny wiped blood off the side of his mouth. “The Realm just can’t butt out and let us do our jobs, can they?”
Ivar watched Promise as she obviously regained her strength and kept talking to Ronan. “He’s smart.” Though Benny was right. Dage Kayrs, King of the Realm and Kane’s brother, was in everybody’s business. Period. “I think we should tell her the truth about everything. So she can really do the calculations we need.”
Benny shook his head. “Nope. We agreed we wouldn’t tell any humans until we’ve chosen the grant recipients. She’s one of many applicants.” He tilted his head. “Though she is pretty. What color are her eyes?” He squinted and leaned closer to the monitor.
“Brown. Light brown with golden flecks.” Ivar shifted in his seat. “And she smells like a springtime breeze off the ocean through purple heather.” The flowers of his youth. He couldn’t take waiting anymore. “Enough of this.” Shoving away from his chair, he headed for the door.
Benny partially swiveled in his crappy chair, and one of the wheels rolled off, tipping him to the side. He swore and regained his balance. “What are you doing?”
“Making a mistake,” Ivar said grimly, heading into the hallway.
“Well, make it a good one,” Benny said cheerfully, turning back to the monitors, no doubt for a perfect view of the mess Ivar was about to create.
Ivar rolled his still aching wrist. Even though he’d healed the bone within an hour of crashing through the windshield, residual pain still thrummed toward his elbow. His healing powers were getting stronger but still hadn’t reached a hundred percent, even in the three months he’d been back home.
It really was as if hell, several of them, still had a grasp on him.
His boots made absolutely no sound as he maneuvered the hallway. Traveling through terrible places had taught him stealth beyond a mere immortal’s, and someday maybe he could use that fact for fun instead of survival. For now, he went on instinct.
He reached the conference room doorway and entered the room before Ronan or Kane could react.
Promise partially stood, her hand going to her throat. She gasped.
He forced a smile, and no doubt made a grimace. He’d pretty much forgotten how to smile, or rather, how to feel a smile. “Hello.”
Then she screamed.
Chapter Seven
Promise leaped to her feet and pressed back against the table. What was going on? She looked frantically toward Ronan Kayrs, who glared at Ivar with what looked like prickly irritation. “Who are you people?” She hadn’t even brought her purse in with her. There was nothing she could use as a weapon. Even her pen was the cheap rubbery kind.
Ronan stood. “You’re safe, Dr. Williams. I promise.”
Safe? Right. Safe with the man who’d tried to kidnap her. He stood between her and the door. The other two men didn’t move any more, as if not wanting to spook her. “What is happening?” Her voice shook.
Her would-be kidnapper leaned against the frame in a lame effort to appear harmless. “It’s not what you think. I’m sorry about yesterday.” His voice was even more hoarse than it had been in the car.
“Sorry?” She gulped. “You put a gun in my side.” She partially turned