by Cynthia Eden
Grayson blinked and shook his head. The guy had always had too big of a weakness where the ladies were concerned. “The ambulance . . . it crashed. The driver was unconscious, the other EMT was shot.”
“Shot?” Sabine repeated, voice rising.
“There was no sign of the human at the scene.”
“It’s Genesis,” she whispered, her breath coming faster. “That woman . . . she told me they’d kill my brother. If I didn’t do what they wanted—” She tried to rush into the hallway.
Ryder grabbed her hand and pulled her right back to his side. “You don’t know it’s them.” Was she forgetting about that jerk Dante? And there were other enemies, enemies she didn’t even know about yet.
My enemies.
Enemies who would target her because they knew . . . I want her. His enemies had finally found his weakness, and they would use her if they had the chance.
“Let me go, Ryder,” she gritted as she tried to twist her hand out of his grasp.
When he didn’t let her go, Sabine’s skin began to warm beneath his touch.
Impossible.
Her eyes were still dark brown. Showing no flames. Only fear and fury.
“Where will you go?” he asked her, and Ryder damn well didn’t let her go. “To your parents? Will you rush to them and place them in danger, too?”
“Aren’t they already in danger?” Sabine whispered, voice tight with pain. “Because of me?”
They were. Humans were always too vulnerable. Too easily hurt. Too easily killed.
“I have to warn them,” she said as her shoulders straightened.
Fine. She could warn them. Then he’d get them out of the country until his battles were done.
Ryder nodded slowly. “I’m coming with you.” Because she could be walking straight into another trap.
He knew Grayson watched them far too closely. He turned toward his friend. “Find her brother.” Tracks were always left behind. When it came to following a blood trail, Grayson was second only to Ryder.
Grayson nodded. His gaze swept over Sabine once more. Friend or no friend, if his stare lingered much longer, he was going to get clawed.
But, wisely, Grayson turned and headed back down the stairs.
Sabine hesitated. “Will he find Rhett?”
“Yes.” But find him alive . . . maybe not.
“Don’t tell my parents what I am,” she said, swallowing.
Rage hummed beneath his skin. “Ashamed?” The public knew about vampires. They weren’t just a myth any longer. Some humans loved the idea of becoming immortal. Some were all too eager to offer up their blood to a vamp.
But some thought vamps were abominations. That they needed to be sent straight to hell.
She didn’t speak. Just stared up at him.
His lips twisted. “There’s no point in hating what you are.” What he’d made her. A sliver of what could have been guilt pierced his gut. She didn’t want to burn again. She begged for my help.
Only he was starting to wonder . . . was she fully a vampire? Or by giving her his blood, by forcing all of those exchanges between them, had he made her into something else entirely?
Transformation, not birth.
He had to find out for certain.
“Why not?” she whispered back even as she pulled away from him and headed down the stairs. “Don’t you hate what you are?”
Her words surprised him. “No, love, I don’t hate what I am.” Why would she believe that?
Frowning, Sabine glanced back at him.
He smiled, knowing his fangs would look sharp and deadly. “I love being the monster in the room.” He’d never been one of those fools who railed against the gift of immortality. He had power. Strength that humans could only wish to possess.
Why bitch and moan about that? Why consider vampirism a curse when it could be a blessing?
As her frown deepened, a faint furrow appeared between her brows.
“Soon you’ll love the power just as much as I do,” he promised her. She just had to stop thinking like a human.
She wasn’t prey any longer. She was the predator. At the top of the food chain.
And now it was time for anyone hunting her to realize just how powerful Sabine had become.
He was tied to a chair. Bound hand and foot with thick, rough ropes. Rhett jerked against his bonds, twisting and trying to break free. “What the hell is going on?”
Dim light spilled across the room. An old, dust-filled room that looked like it had to be in some abandoned building. The small bit of light came from a lantern, the kind you used when you went camping.
The kind Vaughn usually took when they went out into the swamp.
And Vaughn—that crazy jerk Rhett had mistakenly thought was his friend—was standing against the right wall, holding a gun in his hand.
Vaughn’s jaw tightened as he stared back at Rhett. “Your sister . . . she’s not the same anymore.”
Turns out I’m not exactly human. Sabine’s soft words drifted through Rhett’s mind. The fire had erupted before he’d been able to question her more, but she’d been wrong. She was the same.
She was his sister. He’d been by her side when she learned how to ride a bike without training wheels. He’d been there the day she broke her arm because she’d tried to follow him up Old Man Lawson’s oak tree. He’d been there when that handsy jerk Johnny had tried to get past first base with—
“Did you ever wonder about Sabine’s birth parents?” Vaughn asked him. The gun’s barrel was pointed at the ground, not at Rhett. At least, it wasn’t pointed at him yet.
Rhett shook his head and jerked harder against the ropes. “Why should I care about them? Sabine’s my sister. We’ve got great parents, we don’t need—”
“Her birth parents knew they had a monster on their hands.”
Rhett froze, then he snapped, “Watch that mouth, Vaughn.” Gun or no gun, no one talked about his sister that way.
“So they got rid of her. They dumped her in the river.”
Sabine had been found in a river, barely alive. Everyone had been stunned to find such a small child alive in that dark water. She was called Sabine because that was where she was found. In Sabine River.
His dad had been one of the first responders on the scene. He’d taken care of the little girl. Loved her. Moved heaven and hell to get her brought into his home.
“I guess they hoped the water could kill her, but she was too strong.” Vaughn gave a sad shake of his head. “Now she’s even stronger.”
“Get me out of these ropes!” Rhett yelled. His burns hurt like a bitch, and the ropes just cut right into the blisters, making the wounds throb and ache even more.
Vaughn shook his head again. “You don’t understand what’s happening. And I wish I could have told you. I wish I could have warned you—”
Warned me about my own sister? “You’re a cop!” The guy shouldn’t need the reminder. “This shit is illegal. You don’t kidnap your friends!” You don’t tie them up. You damn well don’t pull a gun on them.
Vaughn lifted his hand. The gun looked way too comfortable in the guy’s grip. “You don’t get it. You’re lucky you aren’t dead already.”
Rhett’s heart slammed into his chest.
“She’s going to come for you. When she does . . .” Vaughn sighed, a long, low sound. “I’m sorry, man.”
“You’re sorry?” Rhett heaved against those ropes. Screw the pain, he’d keep struggling until his body was a bloody mess. “If you’re sorry, then let me the fuck go!”
“I liked her, you know?” Vaughn’s voice dropped. “When we were kids, I didn’t know the truth, either.” He tucked the gun into the holster on his hip. “But some people are too dangerous to walk the earth. Times have changed. We can’t let the supernaturals take over.”
I’m not exactly human.
He strained against the ropes. He could feel his own blood dripping behind him. “You hurt my sister, and I’ll kill you.” It
wasn’t an empty threat. Rhett didn’t make empty threats. He’d get out of there, sooner or later, and if Vaughn hurt Sabine, the guy would die.
But Vaughn’s eyes had narrowed. “You have it wrong. If I don’t stop her, then you’re the one who’ll be dead.” Then Vaughn stalked forward and grabbed the lantern. He took it and its small light from the room. Rhett yelled after him, calling out again and again, but Vaughn didn’t look back. And soon Rhett was alone in the dark, with his blood slowly soaking the thick rope.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sabine nervously shifted from her left foot to her right. The house before her was just as she remembered. Tall, brick, with a long wraparound porch. Big bay windows.
Withering azaleas in the front yard. No matter how hard her mom tried, those azaleas never did live long enough.
The house was dark. Figured, since it had to be close to 3 A.M. Her heart ached at the sight of the house. She’d grown up there. Broken her arm at the house just across the street when she’d tried to climb that big, damn oak tree.
I wanted to be like Rhett. He’d climbed that tree, zipped up it in about two seconds. She’d wanted to do just what her brother could do. He’d been her hero then.
I’ll find you, Rhett. I’ll stop this nightmare. Somehow.
But first she had to get her parents to safety.
Sabine glanced over her shoulder. Darkness stared back at her. Easing out a careful breath, she looked to her side and asked Ryder, “What if we were followed?”
“Their address is in the phone book. Anyone coming after you already knows where they live. They wouldn’t have to follow us. They could just come up and kill them anytime.”
She flinched. Leave it to Ryder not to bother sugarcoating things for her. She wasn’t even sure if the guy understood the concept of sugarcoating.
Her gaze returned to the house and its dark windows. Be alive. The house was so quiet. She should have come here sooner.
She’d just been afraid to face her parents.
She couldn’t afford fear any longer. Sabine hurried up to the front door. She didn’t bother knocking. The spare key was hidden under the loose brick near the bottom of the front door. She pulled the brick out and grabbed the key. In seconds, the front door was swinging open, and the alarm was beeping. But she punched in the alarm code digits as quickly as she could and—
The lights flooded on. Sabine spun around and saw the long barrel of a shotgun staring back at her.
“Sabine?”
It was her dad. His hair stuck out in a dozen different angles. His old LSU shirt hung faded and loose around him. He blinked, as if stunned to see her. Then he lowered the gun and grabbed her in a hug that stole her breath. He and Rhett had always hugged her too hard.
“I missed you, Dad,” she whispered, holding him just as tightly.
His body shook against hers. “I knew you’d come back home.” So confident, but the words quivered.
Then he pulled back a few inches to stare down at her. His gaze swept over her face, not seeming to miss any detail. She studied him in turn, noticing the new gray in his hair and the lines that appeared deeper on his face.
After a moment, her father glanced over at Ryder. She caught the faint narrowing his eyes. “Vampire, huh?”
The cool response was the last thing she’d expected. “How can you tell?”
“Because I used to be a hunter, of sorts.” He pulled Sabine to his left side. His head cocked as he continued to study Ryder. “Your man there probably doesn’t remember me, but I even went after him once.”
Shock held her immobile. Her father? A hunter?
Ryder stood in front of the closed door. He shrugged as his gaze swept over her father. “I . . . remember your face.” He paused. “You should be grateful that I let you live.”
Ryder knew her father? That was just weird.
Her father lifted the shotgun. Aimed the barrel at Ryder. “And maybe you should be grateful that I let you live.” A hard pause, then, “Now you tell me, was that a mistake, vampire?”
Ryder smiled, showing his sharp fangs. “All along, you knew what she was.”
The ticking of the clock in the den seemed too loud. Sabine’s hand tightened around her dad’s arm. “Where’s Mom?”
“Somewhere safe.” A fast response. Again, not what she’d expected.
Sabine studied her father with new eyes. He’d hunted vampires. Hunted Ryder. But he’d never once mentioned anything about supernaturals to her while she was growing up. Heck, when the vamps had started making headlines, he’d acted as shocked as the rest of their neighbors.
He was an ex-EMT turned college professor. He spent his days digging up archaeology sites and . . .
Digging up vampires?
“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Ryder asked, his voice flat and hard. “Why did you let her think she was just like everyone else?”
“My girl is just like everyone else.” Now her dad sounded pissed.
“Rhett thought I was dead.” The words were pushed past her numb lips. “You . . . didn’t, though, did you, Dad?” This wasn’t exactly the homecoming she’d anticipated. She’d thought he’d be shocked, horrified.
Her gaze darted to the mantle. Thick, wooden spears hung over the fireplace. Souvenirs—so she’d always thought—from one of her father’s trips to Africa.
“Yes, love,” Ryder said softly, his gaze following hers, “those have been used to stake vamps.”
She felt as if she were seeing her father—seeing him clearly—for the first time in her life.
“Sometimes, the only good vamp is a vamp with a stake in his heart,” her father muttered, “and, just so you know, I’ve got wooden bullets in this gun.”
Her breath rushed out as she left his side. Sabine took a few stumbling steps forward, and then she turned and placed her body right in front of the shotgun.
“Sabine.” Ryder snarled. He grabbed her arms.
“Don’t you hurt—” her father began.
“Those bullets can kill me, too,” Sabine said, cutting across his words. Her father. She’d thought she knew him so well. But now her gaze darted around the house. What she’d thought were travel mementoes, were they all weapons? Tribal bags from South America and faded silver spears from Guatemala.
How could she be so blind?
“Nothing can kill you, Sabe,” her father said, shaking his head. “Don’t you worry.”
He knew. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Were you waiting to tell me until the first time I died? When I burned for the first time, were you going to tell me then?”
He slowly lowered the gun. Ryder didn’t wait for the gun barrel to face the floor. He grabbed the gun from her father’s hands and threw the weapon across the room.
Her father blinked his eyes, eyes an exact match to Rhett’s deep stare. “I never wanted you to burn.”
“Too late.” Her stark whisper. “Because Genesis made me burn, over and over again.”
He paled and seemed to age ten years before her eyes. He jerked a shaking hand through his hair. “N-no. They were . . . supposed to help you.”
A scream echoed in her mind. Her scream. The cry she’d made each time they’d killed her.
Her eyes couldn’t look away from her father.
You did this to me.
The truth was right there on his face.
She’d never expected this betrayal. Not from him. He was her dad. Her hero. The man who had protected her all her life.
He was the man who gave me to them.
“Go outside, Sabine,” Ryder said, his voice a lethal rumble of sound.
Her father shook his head. “Let me explain . . .”
“You didn’t tell Mom what you’d done.” She had a heart attack. No, her mother hadn’t known. If she’d known, she wouldn’t have been so shaken that she wound up in the hospital. “You didn’t tell Rhett.” He wouldn’t have been so frantic to find her.
“I wanted to help you!”
/> Ryder was in front of her, blocking her view of her father. He stared down at her, his face implacable. “Go onto the porch. Wait for me there.”
Her heart was breaking. “Why?” The question was stark. “So you can kill my father?”
“Yes.” No lies. No denial.
“Sabine!” Her father’s desperate cry. She’d never heard him sound desperate before. Happy. Loving. Even angry a time or ten when she and Rhett pushed him too far. But never desperate. Until now.
She didn’t look at him. Just stared up at Ryder. She’d trusted her father, always. “But . . . he’s my father.” The words she left unspoken were . . . He wouldn’t do this to me. There’s a mistake. My father wouldn’t have let them hurt me. He protects me. Keeps me safe. Always.
That was a father’s job, right?
Not to . . . not to let his daughter get killed. Tortured. Over and over again.
“Sometimes your family members are the ones you need to fear the most.” There was a whisper of something dark in Ryder’s voice. A stir of memory in his eyes. But, right then, Sabine couldn’t see well enough past her own pain to unlock his secrets.
He gave her a little push. “Outside.”
“I can’t . . .” She couldn’t let her father die. Wouldn’t kill him. Even if. . . Sabine rushed around Ryder and grabbed her father’s arms. She shook him and was aware that his bones felt so fragile to her, brittle. “Why? Why did you do this to me?”
There were tears in his eyes. His hands twisted and grabbed onto hers. “Genesis . . . they were supposed to help people like you.”
People like you. “They hurt me, Dad. They killed me.”
His eyes seemed to sink into his face. “I saw the stories on the news. Until then I-I didn’t know—”
“You’re the one who told them where to find me.” He’d sent the men who came for her in the night. The men who’d drugged her. Kidnapped her. Tossed her in a cell with a starving vampire and watched as she screamed.
That vampire was right behind her now. She could feel his fury. He wanted to rip out her father’s throat.
Part of her wanted the same thing.
“You sent me to die,” she told him.