“That’s because you’re a good, decent male who doesn’t go back on his word. You made a commitment, and you kept it. But I release you from it now.” She pushed the tip of the blade deeper into her skin. “Please. Do it for me.”
“No! How can you ask that?” He squeezed her hand in an attempt to pull the knife away, but she didn’t budge. “Dammit, Terese, we can do this. I’ll get you out of here. Once you’re home, you’ll see that it’ll all work out.”
Then he saw it in her eyes, something that had been there for weeks but that he’d denied with all his heart: lifelessness. She’d lost the will to live. She was dead before he’d even arrived on the Martin property.
“Riker?” Nicole’s hand came down on his shoulder. He wanted to shrug away from her touch, but his body wouldn’t obey. “That day . . . the day she died, I heard her beg you for something.”
Bitterness welled up like acid, scorching his throat and putting a caustic edge on his words. “She begged me to not risk my life to rescue her. And then she begged me to kill her.” He’d been angry at her weakness, and now remorse threatened to eat him alive. He could have handled things so differently. “When I wouldn’t, she did it herself. I think I could have talked her down or overpowered her, but a siren went off.”
Terese had panicked at the sound of the alarm and raised voices, and while Riker was distracted, she’d plunged the blade into her throat.
He didn’t see Nicole stiffen, but he felt it. “It wasn’t your fault.”
It was his fault, but he wasn’t going to shoulder the entire blame for Terese’s death. “No, it was yours.”
An odd, pained sound came from Nicole. “I—what makes you say that?”
“Because she wouldn’t have felt the need to kill herself if your family hadn’t made her a slave, treated her like a lab rat, and forced a pregnancy on her.”
Silence. Then some shuffling. A moment later, Nicole pressed something into his hand.
“I know you don’t believe me, but I loved Terese, and I know she loved me. She gave that to me the day she died, but I think . . . I think it belongs to you.”
Nicole started back toward the cave entrance, her hair damp and clinging to her neck and slumped shoulders. She looked as defeated as he felt.
Exhaling on a curse, he glanced down at his hand.
Lying in his palm was Terese’s ring.
NICOLE WAS SHAKING so hard that she stumbled as she approached the cave entrance. The ground came at her, but then Riker was there, hauling her up with his arms around her waist. She found her balance, but Riker didn’t release her, his grip sure but surprisingly—no, astonishingly—tender.
“Are you okay?” he asked gruffly.
For some reason, she couldn’t find her voice, could merely nod. As if he didn’t believe her, he stepped back and scanned her from head to toe, his gaze lingering a little too long on her neck. Damn her and her self-consciousness, she reached up to cover the scarring.
Riker covered her hand with his and gently moved it aside. “What happened?”
A shudder ran through her. When he’d asked before, she hadn’t answered. She didn’t want to talk about it, but Riker had just opened himself up about Terese, a trauma that was surely far worse than hers.
“Vampire,” she murmured.
Frowning, he skimmed the pad of one finger over her neck, and an unexpected pleasant sensation ran through her. “That’s a lot of damage.”
“He was a . . .” She started to say that Boris was a servant, but Riker was right. Boris was a slave. Still, she couldn’t quite get the word past her lips. “He’d been defanged.”
Riker’s eyes flared, and she expected another blast of bitterness. “It must have been brutal.” When she didn’t reply, because she didn’t even have the words for how brutal it had been, he asked, “Did it happen during the slave rebellion?”
“Yes.” The memory, combined with the churning in her stomach that was only getting worse, sparked sudden anger. “No doubt you wish I’d been killed.”
“You were a child. You didn’t deserve what that vampire did to you.” He smoothed his finger over the skin of her throat. “My clan adopted rules of engagement a long time ago, and killing children goes against every one of them.”
Her anger flagged, and she glanced away, overwhelmed by everything that had happened since being kidnapped from her home. She’d learned more about vampires in the last twenty-four hours than in her entire twenty-eight years of life. And she was considered an expert in her field.
What a joke.
“What’s the matter?” When she said nothing, he hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face so their gazes locked. “You don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s just . . .”
“Just what?”
“I was raised to think vampires were soulless monsters. Creatures that needed to be kept under strict control or they’d kill everything they could lay their hands on. And then I was told you’d killed Terese and my uncle, and after that came the slave rebellion.”
The memory of being attacked got all tangled with the way Riker was touching her, and her heart stuttered, as if it was having difficulty deciding between fight and flight. Someone really needed to add freeze to the instinctive response options to stress. Fight, flight, or freeze.
“You said you loved Terese.”
“I did. And that’s the wrench in this whole mess. I thought she was a fluke. The cat that likes mice or the retriever that doesn’t fetch.” She swallowed. “And now . . .” Now she was seeing life from the other side. The way she’d been raised, capped off by the slave rebellion that had taken her parents, her cousins, and her friends and had nearly killed her, had left her with blinders over her eyes.
Now the blinders had been ripped off, and her new experiences and new knowledge were making her head spin.
Another wave of nausea washed over her, and she wobbled. So maybe the spinning head was about more than sensory overload. About more than stress or exhaustion or fear. She needed her meds. Riker caught her again, but this time, he swept her up and carried her deep inside the cave.
“What’s going on, Nicole?”
She supposed the truth wouldn’t hurt, and at this point, denial would only make her look stupid.
“I have a medical condition that causes imbalances in iron and blood-sugar levels.” He set her down, but when her feet hit the dirt, her legs wouldn’t support her. Very carefully, he lowered her to the ground.
Then he shocked her by sinking down in front of her. He made himself comfortable with one leg propped up and his arm draped over his knee like they were getting ready to enjoy a picnic. “Do you need to eat?”
“Food would help. But what I really need is medication.” Or a blood transfusion, which was a very temporary measure and would only prolong the inevitable.
He stared at her, the calculation in his shimmering eyes making her squirm. “Let me guess.” Skepticism dripped from his words. “Your medication is at your house, and if you don’t get it, you’ll die.”
“Yes. Not right away but eventually.”
“Insulin?”
She shook her head. “It’s an antiviral drug developed specifically for me, although there are a couple of other known cases of vampiridae that are being treated with the same drug.”
“Vampiridae?”
“I contracted the vampire virus when I was bitten.”
“Then why aren’t you a vampire?”
She turned her left hand over, revealing the round pencil-eraser-sized scar on her wrist. “Because I’d been immunized against the orally contracted form of the virus.”
Vampires carried two forms of the virus, but humans were immunized only against the virus that was transmitted by saliva. No company had yet developed anything that would defend against the more powerful strain of the virus vampires carried in their blood. Daedalus was working on it, and Chuck claimed they were close, but tr
ial results were, so far, not as satisfactory as the FDA would like.
“The immunization kept me from turning, but it didn’t stop the virus from attacking my body.” Closing her eyes, she slumped against the cave wall. “No one knows why it happens, but in cases like mine, the virus creates dangerously high levels of iron that shut down the pancreas before shutting down other organs.”
He cursed. “Can I do anything?”
“I could use some food and water.”
“Hold on.” She hadn’t expected him actually to do anything, but he fetched the duffel full of supplies. “Here,” he said as he handed her a wrapped protein bar. “It’s not a hot meal, but it’s better than nothing.”
“Thank you.” Gratefully, she took the food he offered. As long as she kept hydrated and kept her blood sugar as level as possible, she could go without the medication for a couple of weeks, until the iron in her blood and organs built up to lethal levels.
But no need to worry, she thought. She’d probably be dead long before she had a chance to die from her disease. Some vampire was likely going to rid her of the iron-in-her-blood problem. And the blood-in-her-veins problem.
She took a bite and tried to pretend it didn’t taste like a bird’s nest. Without thinking, she offered the bar to Riker, who blinked in surprise.
“It’s yours,” he said, shaking his head.
“You must know what they taste like,” she muttered.
“Hey,” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. “I gave you the best of the two flavors.” He jerked his thumb over at the survival kit. “The other one is Peanut Butter Sawdust.”
She laughed, thankful for a moment of levity, no matter how brief it might be.
“Eat.” He started toward the cave entrance. “There’s more water in the bag, too.”
“Where are you going?” She hated herself for the alarm in her voice, hated herself more for relaxing when he halted at the entrance and gave her a reassuring look.
“I’m going to patrol the area. I want to make sure no one is close.” His voice went low, soothing. “I won’t go far, and I won’t be gone long.”
Yesterday his words would have been threatening. Today they were comforting, which was messed up. Here she was, relieved that her kidnapper was going to return. Worse, he was probably planning to take her back to his clan to be tortured or something.
No longer hungry, she forced herself to choke down the protein bar. When Riker hadn’t returned by the time she finished, she downed a bottle of water and dug the pad of sticky notes out of the bag. Although her eyes were burning with the need to sleep, she made two tiny origami birds and a flower. As she started another flower, Riker strode through the entrance. The sight of him, moving with confident, easy strides, the weapons harness molded perfectly to his muscular bare chest, sent a wave of both unease and hot, feminine appreciation rippling through her. He could just as easily kill her as protect her.
Hurt her as kiss her.
Bite her as caress her.
Suddenly, the chilly cave felt a lot warmer.
As Riker sauntered toward her, the heat cranked up even more. “What are you doing?”
“Doing?”
He gestured to her paper figures. Flustered and embarrassed, she tried to sweep the creations into the bag, but he crouched down and captured a bird.
“They’re silly things I make sometimes.” She shrugged dismissively. “Terese taught me.”
“Terese taught you origami?”
“She taught me to focus my fidgeting.”
Riker studied the tiny bird in his palm. “So this is a nervous thing?”
Nervous didn’t quite cover it. Stressed out beyond belief? Yeah, that. “You’ve never been nervous in your life, have you?”
“Vampires can be nervous,” he said. “And afraid.” He settled down next to her and ran his finger over the bird’s angular head, almost as if it were alive. The sight of such a rock-hard warrior carefully stroking something so fragile filled her with an odd sense of warmth, as if something inside her was melting. “And I wasn’t always a vampire, you know.”
“Your eyes do give you away.” Sliding a covert glance at him, she wondered what color his eyes had been before he was turned.
“Blue,” he murmured.
“I almost believe you can read minds.”
The amused tilt of his mouth drew her gaze. He really did have perfect, lush lips made to please a woman, and her own lips tingled in remembrance of the kiss they’d shared. She still couldn’t believe it had happened. She’d read once that intense situations made people bond quickly and behave in ways they normally wouldn’t, and while she wasn’t sure about the bonding thing, the rest was spot-on.
Because never in a million years would she have thought she’d kiss a vampire.
“I know people,” Riker said. “You said you’re a researcher. That means you’re curious. So . . . blue.”
She didn’t like that a vampire had read her so well. She also didn’t like that she now knew what color his eyes would be when he was intensely aroused, which was the one time a turned vampire’s eyes reverted to their natural color. But even then, the color would be enhanced with an intense, erotic glow said to render the opposite sex powerless to resist.
“Wait . . . so why, when you were on top of me . . .” She paused, desperately seeking words to make this less awkward, but all she could do was think about how her face was on fire with mortification.
“Why didn’t my eyes change color?” His gaze snapped up to hers, a cruel glint reflecting off the silver surface. Suddenly, the cave was cold again. “I guess I wasn’t that turned on.”
She was both relieved and insulted. Definitely irritated. She snatched the paper bird away from him and shoved it into the bag.
“Do I have time to get some rest?”
“You have all night.”
Yawning, she settled back against the cave wall. She didn’t need all night. Just a few minutes of sleep would do . . .
“NICOLE.”
Riker’s hushed voice pierced the darkness.
“Nicole.” She felt herself being shaken. “We have to go. Someone is coming through the rear entrance.”
Groggy, disoriented, she opened her eyes. “What?”
“You fell asleep. You’ve been out for hours.” He didn’t wait for her to wake up. In an instant, she was in his arms, and they were darting into the early-morning light at the front of the cave.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he leaped off the ledge and hit the ground at a dead run. He moved silently, his powerful strides barely touching the ground. Branches slapped at them, but mostly, everything was a blur until, miles later, he jerked to a halt and set her on her feet.
“Do you hear that?”
“No,” she whispered, her voice sounding strangled to her own ears. “Poachers?” The very word knotted her gut with dread.
“I wish.”
Vampires burst from out of the forest, and if Riker’s expression was anything to go by, these weren’t the good guys.
SIX MASSIVE VAMPIRES surrounded Riker and Nicole, bodies laden with an extra fifty pounds of weapons each. Blood in various stages of drying was spattered on their fatigue-style clothes, and the stench of death clung to them like a leech. They looked hungry but not for food.
For killing.
This was one of those times Riker missed the feel of cold steel in his hands, the sexy curve of a trigger under his finger, the sure weight of an automatic weapon that would take out all of these assholes in seconds. Riker didn’t miss being a human, but he definitely missed the guns.
Riker glanced over at Nicole, silently cursing the flush of alarm in her cheeks. From a situational standpoint, showing fear to ShadowSpawn warriors was like slitting your wrists while swimming with a school of sharks.
From a personal standpoint, Riker didn’t like to see Nicole afraid, and that was something he didn’t want to dwell on.
“Fa
ne.” Riker moved toward the leader of the group of newcomers, a turned vampire with a New Jersey accent, at least a dozen piercings, and an uneven bleached-blond Mohawk.
Fane broke away from the pack to meet him. “Worm.”
Riker stopped a foot away from the other vampire. “I always forget how much I hate ShadowSpawn until I see one of you assholes.”
“And I always forget how useless MoonBound clan is to the Vampire Nation until I see one of you,” Fane growled.
“Now that we’ve exchanged greetings,” Riker said, “why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
Fane’s silver eyes gleamed as they shifted to Nicole, and Riker bristled. “First, tell us who your human morsel is.”
Riker put himself between Fane and Nicole. “That’s none of your business.”
“You know the law,” Fane said, as if Riker were a mewling baby vampire who needed lessons in interclan treaties and directives. “Unless you claim her as apish-wa, she’s fair game for any vampire.”
An intense, foreign instinct rose in a volcanic rush, overwhelming rational thought. The idea that Fane—or any male—would sink his fangs and cock into Nicole’s tender flesh steamed Riker’s blood. Then his blood damn near boiled out of his veins when Fane inched toward Nicole, his eyes as bright as a cat’s before it pounces on a mouse.
“The human is apish-wa. Mine.” Riker took Nicole by the arm and tugged her close. He could feel her flustered gaze boring into him, and he hoped she was smart enough to play along. “Touch her, and I’ll strangle you with your own intestines.”
“Of course.” Fane inclined his head in a civil nod. Damned ShadowSpawn might have no problem slaughtering women and children in the course of war, but they respected property. Most vampires did. Probably because they had so little of it.
Satisfied that Nicole was safe—for the moment, anyway—Riker released her. But he remained so close that her body heat warmed his skin. “Now, why are you here?”
“We came to see if you’d gotten Neriya back.” Otto, a ShadowSpawn warrior covered in gang and prison tats from his human days, stepped forward. “Poachers ambushed us about halfway to your headquarters.”