Adare said, moving for the door. “Yet I already know the outcome. If my cells are at war with yours, Grace, it will benefit you to get more of mine by mating. I have no doubt they’ll win any war, overcome any antibodies, and you’ll survive.” He looked over his shoulder, the impact of his gaze harsh. “Then we’ll discuss your future. Mate.”
Chapter 18
The one time Adare had visited Realm headquarters before, he’d been shown the gym in the basement of the main lodge. He headed there now. If he remembered right, there were punching bags mounted around the sprawling basement. He needed to beat on something, and right now.
He turned the corner, his boots quiet on the heavy mats, and stopped short.
Two young girls stood facing each other, one with her hands on her hips. “I have no idea where he is. What is up with Pax lately, anyway?” the taller one asked.
As one, they turned toward him. The taller one wore her dirty-blond hair in a ponytail and despite her youth, her shifter ancestry was obvious. Cougar shifter? Probably. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said, turning toward the other girl. She had to be in her early teens, with intense blue eyes and light brown hair. A blue marking, swirling and intricate, danced down her neck and disappeared into her worn T-shirt, showing her to be one of the three prophets walking the earth. Hope Kayrs-Kyllwood. The only female vampire, or part vampire, in existence…and the Lock. A fact she probably had no clue about.
The girl studied him right back. “Adare. It has been a long time.”
Three years, actually. He was surprised she remembered his name. “It’s nice to see you, Hope.” He should probably leave the girls to whatever they were doing.
“This is my friend, Libby,” Hope said, reaching down for a couple of black strike pads sitting by her tennis shoe.
Libby nodded. “Hi.” She moved, or rather bounced, to the door. “Sorry I have to go. I’m sure Pax will be here soon, but there’s something up with the shifter nation, and we’re having a family meeting. I’ll be back.” She smiled, showing impressive canines, and then jogged down the hallway.
Hope tossed him the pads. “Do you mind spotting me until my friend arrives? Pax isn’t usually late, so he should be here soon.”
Adare caught the pads with one hand, curious about this young prophet. “Sure.” He slid his hands into the pads and held them up. The girl looked more human than anything else, which was a surprise.
She pulled on small boxing gloves and took position, bringing her wrists to cover her face. Her first few hits were tests, making sure he was holding the pads tight, before she started punching for real. Her form was good and her aim perfect, but the lack of strength in the hits concerned him.
“How’s Grace doing?” Hope asked, spinning and adding a surprising kick.
He kept the pad in place and took the impact. “She’s with your Aunt Emma doing some tests.” Or great-aunt Emma, but why get specific?
“Uh huh.” Hope kicked again. “It’d be nice to keep her alive, since she’s a Key. Right?” Her next punch held more force.
Adare looked down at the small female. What was she now? Thirteen or so? “What do you know about the Keys?”
“More than I’d like to know.” She bounced back on her feet, lifting her gaze from the pads. “I also know more about the Lock than you do.” Her eyes held a depth and seriousness beyond those of a thirteen-year-old. “Do you even understand my role in the ritual?”
He took a step back, his impenetrable chest heating. “Who told you?” Garrett and Logan, both new members of the Seven, were Hope’s uncles, so maybe they’d been talking? Their vow had been one of silence and secrecy, and he’d believed they’d meant it.
Hope rolled her eyes, looking for a moment like any other teenaged girl. “Relax, Sparky. Everyone around here tries to forget the fact that I’m a prophet with a destiny, yada, yada, yada. Nobody has said a word.”
Goosebumps rose along his arms. “You’re psychic.” Like the prophets were meant to be.
She lifted a slim shoulder, dropping into a fighting stance again. “Who knows. I see things, I feel things, and sometimes fate talks to me.” Hit. Hit. Hit. “Or, there’s some break in the time continuum, and certain people get glimpses into the future.” She turned and kicked again, her foot making a decent slap on the pad. “In the end,