by Cynthia Eden
A slow nod.
“How did you—”
“I’d delay the escape for a fuck,” Ryder said, the hard words cutting like a knife, “but not to play Twenty Questions. It’s time for us to get the hell out of here.”
Her eyes narrowed.
He lifted his hand and offered it to her. “Unless you want to stay?”
She wasn’t taking that hand yet. “I want to make sure I’m not going to find myself suddenly aiming a gun at my own heart.” Because she’d seen the desperate fear in Donaldson’s gaze. Sabine didn’t want to wind up on the receiving end of whatever scary mojo Ryder was working.
When she’d been snatched by Wyatt and his psycho team, Sabine hadn’t exactly had time to pack her gris-gris. And her aunt Rya had worked so hard to create that satchel to protect Sabine. I could sure use its protection right about now.
Ryder stared at her. His eyes were so bright. His face tense.
“What?” Sabine muttered. “I think it’s a fair concern.” Especially considering the events she’d witnessed with her own eyes.
“If I could control you, your hand would be holding mine right now.” He said the words with an annoyed air. “I can’t get in your head. Not even with the blood I took.”
That was good, right?
“I tried to get into your head.”
She gulped.
“There was a wall of fire blocking your mind. It kept me out—is keeping me out. I’m betting it will keep every paranormal out.”
Her hands had fisted, the better to hide the faint tremble of her fingers.
“So I won’t be making you shove a gun at your own heart. I won’t be making you do anything that you don’t want to do.” He exhaled on a long sigh. “Now, can you take my hand?”
She headed toward him. Her shoulder brushed his arm. She forced her right hand to unclench, and she lifted it from the pocket. Her fingers touched his. A hot charge seemed to pulse from his skin to hers.
“Lead the way,” Sabine whispered.
Her fingers curled around his.
“Donaldson, drop the gun,” Richard barked as he rushed into the cell.
Donaldson dropped the gun. The other guards swarmed in, searching the area.
“They’re gone,” Donaldson gasped out. “Been gone . . .”
“And you just let them walk away?” Fury spiked within Richard. “You were supposed to shoot the woman, not free her.”
“I-I didn’t . . . The vampire came in. He let her go.”
Obviously. “While you just stood there.” The man actually was still just standing there. Richard waved his hand. “Get moving, Donaldson. We’re locking down the facility. We’re going to find them.” He turned away. “They won’t get out of Genesis.”
Richard had taken two steps before he realized Donaldson wasn’t moving. Richard glanced back over his shoulder. The guard stood frozen in the middle of the room. His eyes were wild, his face taut. Sweat covered him, but the man wasn’t stepping forward.
“Come along, Donaldson,” Richard snapped. He didn’t have time to waste coddling a guard. The man had been attacked. Yes, yes, traumatic, no doubt, but he was fine now. No injuries that Richard could see, except for the bandaged bite mark on Donaldson’s neck. The wound still appeared to be bleeding, judging by the way the red stain was spreading on the white cloth.
“Can’t,” Donaldson rasped. “Not until . . . Ryder’s back.”
What? Richard spun around. His gaze swept over the guard. Donaldson’s body was shaking, but the man was not so much as inching forward. “Come here, Donaldson.”
All of the other guards were dead silent.
Donaldson shook his head. “Can’t!” He shouted this time, his frustration breaking him. “I can’t move a step, not ’til Ryder gets back!”
Richard knew his own eyes were widening. He tried to school his expression even as excitement filled him. “Why would you follow his orders?”
The other guards were avid. Watching too much. Hearing too much. Richard waved them away. “Go join the others! I want a search of every room at Genesis!”
The guards hurried to comply. Richard waited until they were gone, then he asked again, “Why obey him? Did he threaten you? Your family?”
“He’s . . . in my head.” The horror of those words was reflected in Donaldson’s eyes. Eyes that appeared to be filling with tears.
Richard remembered the way Donaldson had stood when he first burst into the room. “He made you put the gun to your own chest, didn’t he?” Richard didn’t want to let the excitement get the better of him. He’d hoped this would be the case. For so long, he’d searched for a vampire who’d mastered this particular talent. His search had yielded no success, until now.
Donaldson nodded. “I could . . . feel him.” His hand lifted and his fingers rubbed against his temple. “It wasn’t me up here. Just him.”
Richard smiled. “It was the bite.” Smart vampire. The attacks on Donaldson and Thomas had been part of an escape strategy.
Jim Thomas . . . you attacked him because you knew he’d have access to the key cards. He was your ticket to freedom.
Richard realized he’d underestimated Ryder. He wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
Richard bent and picked up the discarded gun. “Do you still feel Ryder in your mind?”
Donaldson didn’t answer. But then, wasn’t that answer enough?
Richard glanced over his shoulder. They were alone. Donaldson deserved to hear this. “There are stories . . . some vampires are old enough, powerful enough, that they can actually control the minds of humans.”
He’d just thought that was a legend. He’d hoped it was truth, but had discovered no evidence to back up that particular power, until this moment.
“He’s controlling me,” Donaldson whispered. A tear streaked down his cheek. “Stop him!”
Oh, now that was the tricky part. “It’s the blood,” Richard said. With vampires, wasn’t it always? “He didn’t take control until he had your blood.” Otherwise, Ryder would have escaped sooner. He would have just taken control of the guards at any point and used them to do his bidding.
But though Ryder had killed a few guards when he’d first been contained at Genesis, the vampire hadn’t been allowed to get within biting distance of any Genesis personnel, not since those early, desperate weeks. And since he hadn’t been able to bite them . . . You couldn’t control them.
Until a fatal mistake had been made. Until Thomas and Donaldson had gotten within the vampire’s deadly reach.
During his time at Genesis, Richard knew that plenty of other vampires had tasted the guards. They’d had their blood—new guards often made foolish mistakes. They got too close to their prey. One nip of the teeth was enough to guarantee that they’d be better prepared in the future.
Those vampires had never been able to take over the minds of their prey.
Those vampires hadn’t been like Ryder.
What makes Ryder different? He had to find out. Ryder could very well be the vampire that he’d sought for so long.
The key.
The cure.
Richard’s fingers tightened on the gun. “You’re his puppet now. Whatever Ryder says, whatever he so much as thinks, you’ll be compelled to do.” Even turning against his own teammates. Hell, the guy would kill his own family if Ryder told him to do so. The proof was plain to see.
Donaldson had put a gun to his own chest.
Very, very interesting.
“Help me!” Donaldson begged. “If you find him, if you kill him, I’ll be free, right?”
Yes, he would be free then, but Richard shook his head. “I have no intention of killing Ryder.” What purpose would that serve?
The cure. He’d looked for a vampire like Ryder, searched since he was little more than a child.
Containment of Ryder would be priority one. They’d need more of his blood. Humans would have to be injected. More test subjects lined up and—
“He
lp me!” Ah, now Donaldson was shouting again.
It was hard to think when someone shouted like that.
Sighing, Richard lifted the gun. He fired. The bullet blasted into Donaldson’s chest, a direct hit to the heart. The man fell to the floor.
“Now you’re free,” Richard murmured. He stared dispassionately at the body. Donaldson had been dead from the minute Richard realized he was under Ryder’s control. Donaldson would have been a weakness for Genesis. Ryder would have manipulated the human. Used him to attack.
“Sorry, Donaldson.” Richard turned for the door. “But it’s for the good of science.”
CHAPTER SIX
Genesis was a maze. At least four levels, though Ryder was betting more levels waited downstairs, far below his own prison. So many cells. Far more than he’d realized.
Too many prisoners.
“There are others trapped here,” Sabine said as she walked closely by his side. Ryder kept his head down. They’d been lucky enough to walk right past two guards without those guys even giving them a second glance.
You just saw the lab coats and you didn’t bother to look at our faces.
Richard had hired those guys for their bulk. Not so much for their brains.
“We should get them out,” Sabine told him, voice soft.
“I’ll come back,” he told her. Not on a rescue mission. But a mission to make Richard Wyatt scream in agony.
She glanced toward him.
“We’ll turn the corner up here,” he told her, inclining his head slightly, “then we’ll go in the room on the left.”
“I thought we were going for the exit.”
Boots pounded behind them. More guards. Would these guys be as clueless as the others? Hopefully. If not, then he’d just kill them.
“We are heading for the exit,” he explained, keeping his voice low. “I can smell fresh air coming from that place.” His nose was even better than a wolf shifter’s. Actually, since he’d taken Sabine’s blood, all of his senses seemed to be working overtime.
“Walk faster,” she told him as she started to double-time her steps. Had she heard the guards, too?
They rounded the corner.
Ryder kept following that fresh air scent. He didn’t want to run. He wanted to turn and fight all those fools following him. To have a bloodbath just like in the old days.
But I can’t risk her.
So he clenched his teeth and shoved into the room on the left.
A small window waited. One covered with bars. An office. Barely ten feet long. It smelled of humans. There were half-eaten snacks scattered on a table. A breakroom?
A breaking-out room. He headed for the window. Yanked on the bars.
The footsteps were coming closer.
The bars snapped in his hands. “Come on!” He all but tossed her through the window.
But then another alarm began to blast. One that was coming from the exterior of Genesis. Got it rigged so no one gets out, huh? Too bad, we’re out. Ryder shoved his own body through the narrow window. Chunks of plaster and brick rained down on him as he broke not just the window, but the weak wall surrounding it. Unlike the walls in his cell, this room wasn’t reinforced. Probably because it wasn’t a place for prisoners.
Before he’d even cleared the window, Sabine grabbed his arm. The woman was actually trying to help drag him out of the building. Cute. He didn’t need any help. “Run!” he ordered.
She kept her hold on him. Didn’t run until he did. Unexpected. It looked like Sabine wasn’t the type to leave a partner behind. He’d remember that tidbit about her. Then they were rushing toward the line of trees before them. Guards raced into their path, ready to cut off their escape. The guards had big, shiny guns.
Big fucking deal. He had big, sharp teeth—and he was about to let his claws out. Claws that would make a shifter envious. Had, actually, on plenty of occasions in the past.
He grabbed Sabine’s arm and shoved her behind him.
“Stop!” one of the guards yelled. “Raise your arms and—”
Ryder didn’t stop. Bullets tore into his shoulder and stomach.
He kept running. Grabbed the nearest guard. Broke his arm. Took his gun. Shot back at the others who were foolish enough to still be trying to stop him.
And, even though he’d tried to push her back, Sabine was there. Fighting at his side. Snatching up a gun when it fell from another guard’s hands, and then whirling to fire—because they had more company coming at them from the south.
A quick glance showed Ryder that Wyatt had sent a heavy force outside. He easily counted ten guards—and there, in the middle was Richard Fucking Wyatt himself. “Shoot the prick,” Wyatt snarled at Sabine.
And damn if she didn’t.
Sabine raised her gun. Aimed. Fired.
Richard tried to dodge at the last minute, but the bullet still ripped deep into his chest.
The woman was one very fine shot.
But when she fired, all of the guards lifted their weapons.
Ryder snarled. He grabbed Sabine and turned, cradling her in his arms.
A hail of bullets hit him. Thudding hard into his back. Some even ripped out of his chest as they tunneled all the way through him. He held his body steady, refusing to buckle as the agony burned through him. So many bullets.
Keep her safe. Keep her—
Sabine gasped and her body jerked within his arms.
“Stop! Stop! Dammit, put down your weapons!”
That voice. No way. It couldn’t be . . .
Footsteps pounded toward him. Ryder didn’t turn, not yet. He’d wait, let them think he was weak, then he’d whirl and attack.
“Ry-Ryder . . .” Sabine shuddered against him. “H-help . . .”
His gaze dropped to her. Her face was so pale in the bright sunlight. Her eyes too dark. And . . .
He eased his body away from hers. Blood soaked her shirt.
His blood. It had to be his blood. He’d taken the bullets to protect her.
Her body sagged.
It . . . wasn’t just his blood.
Her blood.
The guards were surrounding him then. He didn’t give a fuck. Carefully, Ryder lowered Sabine to the ground. The grass was green and soft—and already getting soaked with her blood.
There were bullet holes in her chest. He’d tried so hard to shield her but the bullets went through me and into her.
“You’re dead,” he promised, savagery rising in him, a dark force that he didn’t try to control.
Sabine’s eyes widened. She tried to speak.
No, not you . . . Not. You.
His fingers were so gentle as he stroked her cheek.
The guards were dead. They were the ones he was sending to hell. He bit his wrist. Let the blood flow. Brought the wound to her mouth. He wasn’t letting her die. Wasn’t going to watch her burn.
“Are we really doing this again?” that familiar voice drawled. A voice that should belong to a dead man.
Sabine’s lips feathered over his wrist. She was drinking. Good. Yes.
But his head turned and—sure enough—Richard Wyatt was striding toward him. Wyatt’s shirt was red with blood, the guy’s face appeared strained, but he was advancing just fine.
She hit him in the heart. I know she did. Even if she hadn’t, no human could be up and walking after a hit like that.
Not human.
Wyatt’s lips quirked a bit as he met Ryder’s stare. “Move away from Twenty-Nine, and let’s get back inside.”
Twenty-nine? What the hell?
One of the guards sprang at Ryder.
Enough.
Ryder surged to his feet and broke the guard’s neck. Shattered the collarbone of another and grabbed the bastard’s gun. Fired—
Fire?
“I don’t believe your blood can stop her death this time,” Richard murmured as he cocked his head to the side.
Ryder whirled back around. Sabine had taken his blood. She should have been all ri
ght. She should have been—
No heartbeat. He didn’t hear Sabine’s heart.
And he could already smell smoke.
“No!” He fell to the ground beside her. More guards were coming. Screw them. He’d told Sabine that he’d get her out of that hell, but she was about to burn anyway.
“It’s easier to contain her before the shift.” Richard’s voice. “Dose them both. Keep firing at her until she begins to rise. You’ll have to time the attack just right.”
Her skin was heating beneath his touch.
He felt sharp pricks on his back. Harder punches, too. The backup guards were dosing him with that SP tranq. Right then, he didn’t give a damn. He wasn’t moving from her side.
Not until she was back with him.
She rose once. She’ll rise again. “Come on,” he whispered to her. “Come back!” Because he didn’t know exactly where Sabine went when she died and part of him was afraid to find out.
Afraid . . . when he hadn’t feared anything in the last thousand years. Not since he’d put the last of his family in the ground.
Not until now. Until her.
“Sabine!” Her name was a roar. A desperate order. The SP tranq was already flooding through his body. How much of the drug had they pumped into him?
Didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but her.
“Sabine.” Softer now. More of a plea.
Her lashes began to flutter.
Yes. She was coming back to him. As soon as her eyes opened—
Her lashes opened. Her eyes were so dark and deep when they met his. Dark . . . at first.
Then a ring of red appeared in her eyes. A red that looked like fire. The ring spread. Flared hotter. The red expanded until flames consumed her eyes.
“Now you”—he had to lean forward to hear her whispered words—“run . . .”
Beneath his hands, her skin continued to warm as the fire flickered higher in her eyes.
Run.
He tried to stand, but the SP tranqs had numbed his body. He fell to the ground beside her. That was where he wanted to be. Close to her. Close.
Flames erupted, covering her flesh. The heat blasted across his skin. Several of the guards cried out, and he saw them, burning. How does it feel?