Once Bitten, Twice Burned

by Cynthia Eden

  Reassuring. And, um, sexy.

  Especially when said girl had a stake pressed to his heart. Why the heck had he given her the stake? Her fingers trembled around it. After what he’d done, maybe she should drive it into his chest but . . .

  I need him. The truth was there. Desperate. He was her only hope in this nightmare. The vampire scared her, but the man named Richard Wyatt? He terrified her. He liked to hurt her.

  Ryder had said that he’d help her. The vampire was the only one that she could trust.

  Provided he didn’t drain her dry. Her fingers tightened around the stake. “Aren’t vampires supposed to have some power to control the minds of their victims? Can’t you just make me forget what you did before? Make me—” Sabine broke off, unable to say the last.

  He finished for her. “Make you want my bite.” The words were deep and dark.

  She almost shuddered. The last thing she wanted right then was to feel his teeth sinking into her throat. She hadn’t been lying about those nightmares. He’d been starring in her dreams all week. Not those lab coat–wearing jailers and their constant needles. Ryder.

  Fangs. Fury.

  Only after he bit her in her nightmares, sometimes, he did . . . more. Things that didn’t scare her, but turned her on. She swallowed.

  “Would you want me to take your will away?”

  She realized he hadn’t actually answered her question. Could he do it? Could he take the memory away?

  But with all the crazy crap that was going on already, did she want to add mind control to her list?

  No, thank you.

  “It took me three days to remember who I was.” She licked her lips. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Lingered. His gaze seemed to heat. “So no, don’t take the memory away.” It had just been desperation talking. “I don’t want anyone to ever mess with my mind again.” Because she was convinced that Wyatt had done something to her. He’d made her forget.

  Hadn’t he?

  Ryder’s hand seemed heavy against her throat, and his thumb was stroking her skin. A small, circular caress.

  “You don’t seem as—as wild as before,” she blurted. It was true and reassuring.

  His gaze rose back to meet hers. “I drank from four guards when they took you away. Before you, it had been months since I fed.”

  The twisting in her stomach got worse. “If you try to take too much from me, I will kill you.” Fair warning. She remembered his unbreakable hold. The terror that had clawed through her.

  “To stop me, just drive the stake into my heart.”

  The rough edge of the wood rubbed against her fingers.

  His head began to lower toward her neck.

  “No!”

  He froze.

  “Um, not the neck, okay? Bad memories. Really bad.” Like there were any good memories of this place.

  But Ryder nodded, and the overhead light glinted off the dark gold of his hair.

  He took her left hand then and lifted her wrist toward his mouth. “Better?”

  In the grand scheme of things? Probably not. But her wrist was a better option than her neck. Her breath rasped out. She was so in over her head. A vampire. He’s a real vampire and I’m—I don’t know what I am.

  Monster.

  His lips feathered over her skin. Sabine jerked and her fist shoved the stake against him. Not into him, but—

  Ryder was watching her with that green stare. A stare that seemed so intense that it actually made her feel like he was looking into her. Then he quietly ordered, “You must trust me. I won’t let you down again.” A grim pause then, “Stop thinking about what happened before.”

  Her laugh was weak. “That’s a little impossible.”

  “Sabine.” He said her name like it was a caress. The way a man would say it in bed.

  They were in bed. She was, anyway.

  “Close your eyes,” he told her. “Think of something good.”

  There was nothing good there. They were prisoners. No one knew where she was, and Sabine wasn’t even sure of what she was any longer.

  The right corner of his mouth hitched up. “Your eyes aren’t closed.”

  The vampire couldn’t be teasing her right then. The blood of the men he’d killed—her blood—stained the floor. But he was lightly holding her hand. Gazing into her eyes. Looking at her like a lover.

  “You need to let the fear go.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she muttered. “I didn’t sink my teeth into you and not let go.”

  His smile vanished. “No, you didn’t.” He pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

  She closed her eyes.

  “Now you do that?”

  Sabine didn’t answer him. Something good. She had good memories rattling around in her mind, now that her memories were actually back, anyway. She could pull some of them out.

  “Where were you the last time you were happy?” Ryder asked her.

  The image slipped through her mind. The dark bar. The laughter. The blues music that hung in the air. Rhett’s music. “New Orleans.” Her home. The only one she’d ever known. “At my brother’s bar.”

  His breath rushed out. “You have a brother?”

  The memory wanted to drift away. She held it tight. “N-not blood. The people who adopted me—my parents—they already had Rhett.” Rhett had been the reassuring constant in her life. Always there. Always watching out for her. With her eyes closed, she could see him so easily in her mind. “He was playing the blues, and I was dancing behind the bar.” The whole family had been there. Laughter. Voices mellow. She’d been swaying to the music, thinking how lucky she was. “I sang with him.” Her lips curled. “I sound like a dying frog when I sing. Half the crowd left instantly.”

  His laughter came, surprising her, and her lashes flew up.

  He looked different when he laughed. Still dangerous, but different.

  He drained your blood. Don’t go weakening around him.

  “Hold that memory,” Ryder told her as his laughter faded away.

  She closed her eyes again.

  His mouth was on her wrist. Pressing lightly. His lips parted. His teeth sank into her wrist, and there was only the faintest flash of pain, not nearly as bad as the prick of Wyatt’s needles, then Ryder’s mouth tightened on her skin. He was sucking her flesh. Taking her blood.

  The fear rose within her once more.

  Hold the good memory.

  She tried to hold it. Singing in the bar. Rhett shaking his head as he told her that the blues just wouldn’t ever be for her. Her mother had waved her on. Sabine had laughed until her sides ached.

  His mouth seemed to harden on her wrist as Ryder took more.

  The memory flew away from her as her eyes shot open once again. The stake was slippery in her sweaty hand, but she wasn’t about to let that thing go. “Ryder.”

  His eyes were open, too. Open and locked right on her. His pupils were swelling as he stared at her, swallowing up the green of his eyes. So much hunger was in that stare. Hunger, desire.

  A dark lust.

  Her heart raced in her chest. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Was that the truth? Or a lie? She wasn’t sure. He hurt you. The stake pressed down harder. “But I will.” Sabine let the stake draw blood, just to show that she wasn’t making an empty threat.

  Say it and mean it. Her father’s advice. Don’t take shit from anybody in this world. A favorite mantra of his.

  Ryder’s fangs slowly lifted from her skin. His tongue swiped over the small wounds he’d left behind, lightly lapping at the skin.

  The rasp of his tongue shouldn’t have turned her on. It probably should have given her more nightmares. A vampire. Drinking from me!

  But Sabine could admit to herself that the bite had turned her on. Her nipples were aching and heavy, and arousal had her shifting and arching her hips slightly.

  One more lick, and his head rose. “Your taste is incredible.”

  Right, what was that, like a vampire pickup line?r />
  He glanced down at the stake. Maybe he was just now realizing that he was bleeding, courtesy of her. It seemed only fair that they’d both drawn blood. He reached for the stake, but then his body began to sag.

  She tried to grab him. The stake fell to the floor, and so did Ryder.

  His eyes were closing. “What . . . did . . . you . . .”

  She hadn’t done anything. Had she? Sabine crouched at his side. “What’s happening?” She’d been the one on the floor after the last bite.

  Ryder started to shake—hard, heavy convulsions.

  Then the cell door flew open. Guards stormed in, with their weapons raised.

  “Get back!” one of them yelled at her.

  She held Ryder’s hand tighter. Sabine didn’t even remember reaching for his hand, but now she was holding on to him for dear life. “Something’s wrong with him!”

  “No, my dear,” Wyatt said as he pushed through the guards. “He’s having the exact response to the drug that we’d hoped.”

  Drug? Understanding dawned. The drugs they gave me.

  “Get his blood,” Wyatt ordered the man on his right. A smaller guy with nervous hands and bright, red hair. The man’s lab coat swirled around him as he hurried forward.

  Sabine grabbed the stake. “Don’t you touch him!” She held the stake up like a knife.

  Wyatt laughed. “Shoot her.”

  What?

  The guard at Wyatt’s shoulder shot her. Sabine screamed as the tranq dart embedded in her chest.

  She tried to hold on to the stake, but it rolled right out of her suddenly numb fingers.

  The redhead was crouching over Ryder now, taking the vampire’s blood and filling up test tubes. A lot of test tubes.

  “Take the female subject back to her room,” Wyatt ordered.

  Sabine’s body was about to crash onto the floor when two of the guards hoisted her back to her feet. Well, okay, her legs weren’t exactly steady, so when they started walking, her feet dragged behind them.

  “Good job,” Wyatt told her with a small smile. “I knew you’d be able to get to him.”

  Wait, what? Her body might not be working right, but her mind was still functioning pretty dang well. Wyatt was making it sound as if she’d been working with him.

  Her gaze darted back to Ryder. Of course, his lashes would have flickered and started to open right then. His green stare was far too aware as it locked on her.

  He’s awake. Which meant . . . They’re dead.

  And, wow, the guy sure hadn’t been out for long.

  Her expression must have given her away because Wyatt suddenly swore and grabbed for the blood-filled test tubes. “Get her out of here!”

  They hauled ass getting her out the door. Wyatt was on her heels, more guards rushing behind him.

  And the redhead who’d taken Ryder’s blood—

  She managed to turn her head and lock her gaze on him.

  The redhead didn’t make it out.

  The metal door closed on his scream.

  Lethargy pulled at Sabine’s body, but she forced her eyes to stay open. They’d just hit her with one tranq this time, surely she could fight this.

  Her head sagged forward. Or not. Dammit.

  She hated to be so weak.

  The guards began to haul her away.

  “No!” Wyatt suddenly snapped. “She needs to see this.”

  She tried to slap at them, but her hands just fluttered in the air like useless birds. Then she was in another room, one with dim lights and lots of computers and machines.

  “Look at him,” Wyatt ordered as he took hold of her chin and forced her head back up.

  Sabine blinked and stared straight ahead. At Ryder. She was looking through the two-way mirror.

  Ryder was in his cell, and the redheaded man was in front of him. Ryder had one hand on the man’s throat. It looked like the redhead was begging.

  “See what he is?” Wyatt demanded, his fingers pressing hard into her chin. “Do you see why he can’t be free?”

  Ryder’s eyes narrowed. Uh-oh. Could he hear them? It sure looked like he had. Wyatt hadn’t even been speaking into the microphone, but Sabine was certain Ryder had heard the scientist’s words. Enhanced vamp hearing. Very enhanced.

  “Open the cell door!” Ryder roared. “Or you can watch as I rip his throat open.”

  The guards holding her shifted nervously.

  Wyatt stepped away from her and bent over the small microphone. “You can’t be set free,” Wyatt said, voice snapping. “You’re far too dangerous. By keeping you here, we keep the humans in the world safe.”

  Ryder sank his teeth into the redhead’s throat. The guy screamed and tried to fight, but he was no match for Ryder.

  “We-we can’t just let him die,” the guard to her right muttered. He was sweating. She could almost smell his fear.

  “That’s Jim Thomas—he’s got a wife,” another guard muttered. “A baby coming.”

  Wyatt stared straight through the glass. With a supreme effort, Sabine managed to keep her gaze open and on Ryder.

  Ryder’s head lifted. Blood dripped from his mouth. “Next time, it won’t be just a bite. I’ll rip his whole throat open.”

  She knew his threat was real. So did the guards.

  “That vampire’s too dangerous,” one said, the sweaty one on her right. “He needs to be put down.”

  Wyatt’s head jerked toward them. “That would be a waste, Donaldson.”

  “He’s killed our men!” Donaldson fired back as his fingers dug into Sabine’s arm. “He’s about to kill Jim! He can’t be controlled.”

  “Of course he can.” Wyatt sounded annoyed, as if he were talking to a small child. His mouth was still close to the microphone as he said, “Just take out your gun and put it to her head.”

  Nausea rolled through Sabine. The guard hesitated.

  “Do you want to watch Jim Thomas die?” Wyatt pushed.

  The guard lifted his gun. The barrel pressed into Sabine’s temple.

  “Good,” Wyatt murmured. His gaze darted back to the observation window.

  Ryder had frozen. He knew exactly what was happening in that observation room.

  “If you don’t let the doctor go, then Donaldson will put a bullet into Sabine’s brain.”

  Ryder’s claws—he had claws bursting from his fingertips—dug into the doctor’s throat. “So what? You shoot her, she burns, then she comes back.”

  Wyatt actually smiled at that response. “Yes, but we both know the death hurts, don’t we? Do you want her to suffer, vampire?”

  Ryder didn’t speak.

  If Sabine had been able to do so, she would have shouted, I don’t want to suffer!

  “Perhaps you do.” From Wyatt. Considering. “Perhaps you enjoy her pain.” Wyatt waved his hand toward Donaldson. “Go ahead, shoot her.”

  Donaldson hesitated. Sabine tried to fight the nausea and the lethargy and the heart-numbing fear. “D-don’t,” she managed to gasp. “I have . . . family . . . too.”

  Donaldson’s blue gaze cut to the glass. To Ryder.

  “Do it!” Wyatt barked.

  Donaldson looked back at her. “You aren’t human.” He said the words as if he were trying to convince himself. His finger began to squeeze the trigger.

  Jim Thomas flew into the two-way glass. Ryder had tossed the doctor straight at them.

  “Take the gun fucking away from her head,” Ryder snarled.

  Donaldson lifted the gun.

  “Get the asshole out of here,” Ryder said, shoulders heaving, as he jerked his thumb toward the door.

  The vampire just saved me. Tears stung her eyes.

  Wyatt inclined his head toward Donaldson. The guy nodded and rushed to claim his friend. But as soon as Donaldson stepped one foot inside Ryder’s cell, the vampire attacked.

  He grabbed Donaldson, tossed him around like a rag doll a few times, and then shoved the guard’s own weapon right against his temple.

  “That
was a mistake,” Ryder growled at him. “You never, ever put a gun to a woman’s head.” He drove his teeth into Donaldson’s throat. The guard screamed and tried to fight.

  Wyatt just watched. Then, after a moment, he sighed. “Briggs, shoot the woman.”

  Briggs—the guard still holding her—stared at Sabine with wide eyes.

  And he didn’t reach for his gun. Sabine knew why.

  Don’t want to wind up like Donaldson, do you?

  Wyatt must have realized the guard wasn’t obeying because he whirled around, grabbed the man’s gun, and pressed it against Sabine’s chest.

  Then they heard the laughter. Ryder’s laughter. Sounding crazed.

  Wyatt paused, then looked over his shoulder.

  Ryder had hauled both men—still alive, barely, from the looks of them—toward the cell door. The men lay in a crumpled heap. Ryder was on the bed. His hands behind his head. “Come and get them,” he called, voice almost mocking.

  Then he just closed his eyes.

  The drug was pumping fast and furiously through Sabine’s veins, and, even though her arms and legs felt leaden, her heart raced so hard that her chest hurt. “He let . . . them go.” Now let me go.

  “Yes,” Wyatt murmured. “He did.”

  So why hadn’t the guy dropped his gun?

  “But today’s experiment isn’t over yet.” Wyatt stared right in Sabine’s eyes. “Let’s see how long it takes for your memory to recover this time.”

  Even though Ryder had freed the men, Wyatt was going to shoot her. Sabine tried to struggle but her body wouldn’t listen to her mental commands.

  “Briggs, take her back to her room. Strap her down.”

  Her breath rushed out in desperate relief. He wasn’t going to shoot her. He—

  “Then shoot her in the heart.”

  Briggs hauled her out of the observation room, and Ryder’s roar of fury followed her.

  The blood was bitter on his tongue. Too harsh. Too metallic. Not like hers. Not like Sabine’s.

  Ryder stood in the middle of his cell. Head bowed, shoulders sagging, a deliberate pose of defeat.

  His fangs were burning in his mouth, and he wanted to spit out the blood that he could still taste.

  What the hell? A vampire never turned away blood, but this time the blood had just been a means to an end. Not the sweet, powerful nourishment that he usually craved.