remove it," Ingrid growled, peering through the
open door as Ava opened the journal.
Malloryn sat her down in the parlor, then
went to one knee in front of her. "Temper, temper,
Miss Miller. Tell me what happened down there,"
he said, and began gently tugging at her boot.
This was for the best. It had to be. Ingrid
spared the examination room one last glance, then
told Malloryn everything.
When she got to the part about Byrnes coming
out of the darkness and killing the vampire with his
bare hands, she began trembling.
Shaking, she bit her lip as she looked up at
him, the loupe threatening to override her. "P-
promise me.... Promise m-me you w-won't kill
him. No matter... w-what."
Malloryn's lips thinned. "Ingrid, he's been
injected with the elixir vitae. Whatever happens to
him, it's out of my hands now."
She curled her good hand in his shirt and
yanked him closer. "If you kill him, I will hunt you
down."
Lightning flashed in Malloryn's blue eyes, but
he caught her wrist and arched a brow. "I'm not
going to kill him. Not unless it becomes necessary.
To be honest, I actually rather like the bastard.
And...."
"And?" She wasn't certain she liked the way
he said that.
"Think about it. If he survives, then that means
that we have our very own dhampir," Malloryn
muttered, sliding her bloodied stocking down over
her foot. "One that can stand against a vampire and
survive."
"You cold bastard." Ingrid winced. "You
mean to use him."
"Someone has to make the hard decisions,
Ingrid. And that someone is usually me."
Malloryn's brow furrowed as he pressed gently
against her calf. "The bleeding's stopped, but the
skin still looks raw. How does this feel?"
She gasped as he probed it. "As though you
just set fire to my leg."
Malloryn eased back, then stared at her. "It
looks fine. You'll heal, and I'm no surgeon. But
judging from the way you're shaking, you need to
sleep and let your body heal."
"I'm not... leaving him...." Sweat dripped
down her forehead, her entire body beginning to
convulse as the loupe fought to drag her under.
"You might not have a choice. I'll sit with
him," Malloryn promised, his face gentling. "At
least until you're on your feet again. I swear I won't
let anything happen to him."
Because Byrnes's potential dhampir state
made him valuable. Ingrid hated to admit it, but her
eyelids were so heavy. "Wake me if he snaps out of
his fugue."
"I will."
THE FOLLOWING EVENING, Ingrid blinked her
eyelids as the chill of the room began to wake her.
Her head slipped off her hand, and she almost
thumped her chin into the arm of the armchair as
she came fully awake.
Where was she—?
It all came flooding back. Byrnes. Zero. The
elixir. And finally falling asleep in the armchair
that Malloryn dragged into the examination room
for her.
"Awake?" whispered a soft, sensual voice.
A head turned, and then Byrnes stared at her
with those all-black eyes, his wrists and feet
manacled to the table and steel bands snapped tight
over his throat and waist.
"Byrnes?" she breathed the word, then found
her feet. Before remembering that he wasn't quite
himself.
His nostrils flared at the sight of her
hesitation, and he flexed his wrists inside the steel
manacles. "I'm... myself again. Hungry as all hell.
But... in control. I think."
"Oh, thank God!" She hurried to his side,
reaching out to caress his face. "You gave me one
hell of a fright."
Byrnes turned his cheek into the caress, the
tension washing out of him, as though her touch
settled him. "I can imagine. I just... keep seeing that
creature diving for you over and over again...." He
shuddered, his lip curling up in a snarl that he
fought down. "And I lost myself. God, you don't
know what it feels like. I've known the hunger all
these years but this.... It's like a black wave
washing over me, and I lose all sense of
rationality. Nothing but primal instincts remain.
You. Me. Mine." The way he snarled the word was
most unlike him.
"Do you remember?"
"Enough." His gaze slid unerringly to the jug
of chilled blood on the vanity. "I need to feed,
before the urge overwhelms me."
"Let me undo you," she whispered, turning for
his wrist.
Byrnes froze. "No. No, Ingrid, leave me
here." He swallowed hard, his hips flexing almost
unconsciously. "I'm in control, but I can't say how
long that will last. The slightest things drive me
under the darkness again. Perhaps... just unlock the
band at my throat. So I can drink?"
She unlatched the steel band and then cupped
his head to lift it to the jug. Byrnes drained the
entire thing, the bands of muscle in his throat
working greedily. Finally he slumped back down,
and she wiped his mouth with a clean cloth.
Ingrid dragged a stool to his side. "Ava's
working on reading Cremorne's journals, so that
she can perhaps reverse the process—"
"No." The word jarred the quiet of the room.
He looked at her. "There is no way back. Zero told
me that, right before she injected me with the
serum. If I stop now, then I'll die." He shuddered
again. "Worse than that; I'll become a vampire."
Ingrid couldn't resist sliding her fingers into
his. "Then we'll work out a way forward."
"There'll be another six treatments, each a
week apart," he told her, squeezing her hand back.
"Zero said the first one was the worst. Maybe...
maybe I won't react as badly next time."
"Did it hurt?"
"Still does." His voice was raw. "I can feel
my body changing. Ingrid...."
"Yes?"
"If you can't deal with this, then you let me
know," he said. "While I'm still lucid." That stark
gaze locked on hers. "I won't blame you if you call
an end to us right now. I don't know what the future
holds—"
"None of us do," she replied fiercely, leaning
down and pressing her lips to his. Just lightly.
Need almost overtook her, but it was the sudden
rush of hot tears to her eyes that burned the most.
"And I'm not leaving you, you fool. I'll sit by your
side through all of this. And I'll be there waiting
for you at the end, when it's safe. I know that you
think that I'm yours, that you have some claim on
me. And it's true, but so is this: you belong to me
too, Byrnes. And I'm not letting go. You're mine."
She was no longer afraid of surrendering
herself to him, of taking tha
t risk. Losing him in this
way was a far worse alternative. And just like that,
all of her earlier hesitation had vanished.
“I remember what you said, in the tunnel….”
She remembered too. “I meant every word.”
As if the words overwhelmed him, he kissed
her back fiercely, his tongue thrusting into her
mouth and his need overwhelming her. It was a
long time before she came back up for air, but the
passionate rage inside her was strangely assuaged.
Mine. She liked the word. She liked the
claiming of it. For too many years there'd been a
hole—a longing—inside her, but as she drew back
and smiled at him, she realized that there was no
gaping emptiness inside her. Not anymore. That
place had been filled. And regardless of what
happened in the future, she felt oddly at peace.
And half tempted to take advantage of the
situation.
Ingrid made a purring sound deep in her throat
as she dragged her nails down his abdomen. "This
reminds me of a promise I made, once upon a time,
that went unfulfilled."
"You fulfilled your promise to the letter," he
breathed, heat filling his expression. "And I'd love
to take you up on that offer, but I think"—he
squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in deep—"that
we'd be best to stick to something less
overwhelming."
Instantly she eased back onto her chair. "Lust
is a consuming thought?"
"Anything primal," he admitted, with a faint
mocking smile. "I'm holding on to the thought that
when I finally get a hold on this, I get to have you
all to myself. I'm planning everything that I'm going
to do to you. In exquisite detail." He swallowed
again.
"I'd best make sure that the house is empty
when that happens," she teased, but only lightly.
"And perhaps reinforce the bed."
"Well now." Ingrid smiled.
"Read to me?" he whispered, turning that all-
black gaze on her one more time.
Ingrid took a deep breath. "What would you
like to hear?"
" Pride and Prejudice," he said, then shrugged
when he saw her eyebrows arch. "What? It's my
mother's favorite."
"And of course, you don't see anything of Mr.
Darcy in yourself?"
"Are you calling me proud?"
Ingrid laughed, then pressed a kiss to his
forehead before she went in search of the book.
"It's one of your most frustrating traits, yes. But
Byrnes," she paused in the doorway with a
flirtatious smile, "I still love you, despite it."
LOVE YOU.
Byrnes breathed in the words, feeling them
flood through him, a light to sway the darkness.
Ingrid didn't know how close to the edge he still
was, but everything she'd said gave him hope—a
means to fight this.
He'd spent years in perfect control of his
craving virus and his emotions. He could win this
battle. And he would.
Because he had one hell of a prize waiting for
him when he did.
"Seven weeks," he whispered, as a promise
to himself. "You can do this."
Because her love was worth the fight.
ZERO STRAINED at the manacles binding her,
feeling them give, just slightly. Malloryn might
have her trapped in this godforsaken little dungeon,
but if he thought steel could keep her here, then he
had another think coming.
The first thing I'm going to do is kill that
cold bastard, she told herself as she felt the steel
link stretching on the chain that pinned her right
hand. Perhaps I'll even make him eat his own
tongue?
Footsteps whispered in the hallway outside.
Zero looked up, holding still.
A key rattled in the lock, and a chill ran
through her, taking her back years and years to that
first asylum. Zero fought to remain calm. Everyone
who'd ever hurt her was dead. Malloryn didn't
scare her. And she was Zero now, not Annabelle.
She was prepared for anything. No doubt it was
merely Malloryn, that smug bastard, back to
question her or to gloat some more.
"I'm not telling you anything else!" she
snarled.
And then the door opened and a figure
stepped inside, easing it closed behind him.
Zero's resistance faded as she caught a
glimpse of that moonlight-pale hair, her shoulders
slumping into the seat. "It's about bloody time. I
thought you were never going to come."
"Have you told them anything?"
Zero paused. "Of course not."
But she knew he'd caught the pause.
Obsidian stepped closer, tugging off his
gloves, one finger at a time. His face remained
implacable. "I'm not telling you anything... else,"
he repeated. "Which means you told them
something."
A mistake. Oh, hell. Zero wrestled with her
chains. "I meant... Caleb Byrnes. That bastard
tricked me. I thought I had him captured and I
might have mentioned one or two things about
dhampir, but nothing else. I swear it, Obsidian!"
Thick blond lashes obscured his eyes. "You
mentioned nothing about the Master?"
If she could have sweated, she was certain
she'd be doing so right now. "Of course not! Do
you think I'm stupid! If Malloryn gets even a hint of
what this is all about—"
A single slashing hand stopped her. "Good.
too many, Annabelle. You were warned to follow
your orders and not draw too many eyes to the
moves behind the scenes, but thanks to your
arrogance, Malloryn is now aware of things he
shouldn't know yet. You got sloppy."
"Don't call me that," she whispered, suddenly
furious. "Annabelle is dead!"
And then he looked at her, just looked, and
she knew why he was really here. There would be
no chance to talk her way out of this. The Master
had been her judge and jury, and now Obsidian
was here as his executioner. "You treacherous—"
A hand clapped over her mouth and Zero sank
her teeth into the flesh there. Then heat exploded
behind her eyes, and her head rang.
"I'm sorry. This is not something I wish to
do," he whispered, withdrawing a small syringe
from his inner pocket as she struggled to blink
through the dizziness of his blow. "But you have
done this yourself. You were warned, damn you.
Warned to keep yourself under control."
She tugged her face aside from his controlling
hand, just for a second. "No! No," she whispered,
kicking and scrambling to break free. "You bloody
little lapdog! Did you kiss his feet when he
demanded this of you? Do you think that he won't
d-do the same... to you—"
The needle slid into her throat and icy cold
spilled into her veins. Zero jerked. "No! N-no,
please...." She was suddenly frightened. She didn't
want this to end. She didn't want to be alone. Not
again.
"I'm sorry," Obsidian said. "But there is no
other way." He moved to step back from her.
"D-don't... leave... me," she managed to
gurgle as pain lit her nerves on fire. "Please...."
Her eyes rolled up in her head as her feet and body
began to jerk uncontrollably.
A moment passed, as if he hesitated. Then a
pair of strong arms went around her, and for the
first time in a long time, Annabelle felt like she
wasn't alone. She jerked as fire flooded through
her chest, narrowing in on her heart.
"Shush," Obsidian whispered, pressing a kiss
to her temple and ruffling her hair. "It will be over
soon. And I won't leave you until it's done. The
same way that I wouldn't leave you back then. I'm
sorry."
It lasted minutes. It felt like hours. And
through it all, Obsidian rocked her, even when she
began to weep tears of blood.
And then the fire exploded in her chest.
GEMMA PAUSED in the doorway to her room,
feeling a breeze slip over her skin. Just that, but it
was enough for her to draw the small pistol at her
side.
"Hullo?" she called, pressing her back to the
wall and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the
darkness.
The last time she'd left her bedchamber, the
window had been closed.
Now the sash was lifted and her curtains
fluttered in the slight breeze. Gemma swept the
room, but there was nobody there.
"Maybe I left it open after all," she murmured,
then frowned. She was fairly certain she hadn't.
Instinct drove her back out into the hallway.
Slipping quietly through the house, Gemma made
her rounds. She was being silly. There was nothing
here. Just—
The door to Zero's cell was cracked open an
inch. All of the hairs on Gemma's arms lifted, and
a chill ran down her spine. Maybe she wasn't
imagining things, after all? She sidled closer, her
gaze raking the darkness, and her heart suddenly
thundering to a crescendo. And then she eased
open the cell door with a steady hand and stepped
inside, her pistol swinging to track each shadow.
Only one shadow remained in the room. Zero,
slumped silently in the chair and chains where
they'd put her.
"Are you awake?" Gemma whispered as she
crossed the room, though she was fairly certain that
she knew the answer to that.
Zero didn't move. No breath lifted her chest.