Touch of Surrender

by Rhyannon Byrd

  Stunning bolts of shock skittered through his system, making his head spin, and he stumbled back another step. “You’re lying,” he said unsteadily, shaking, afraid to let himself believe. “I saw the two of you together. She was crazy about you.”

  A wry smile touched Granger’s mouth, and he lowered his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. “She tried to be, but she couldn’t get over you. She’s been in love with you forever, and you’ve been so wrapped up in yourself, you’ve never been able to see it. But it’s always been there.” He lifted his head, a hard glint in his pale eyes as he blew out a ragged breath and went on, adding, “She loved you so much she almost died for you. And I’m not talking about tonight.”

  Kierland stared, something about the vamp’s tone causing the tiny hairs to lift on the back of his neck.

  Wearing a dark, primal expression of anger and disgust, Granger said, “How do you think we found the rogue nest of vampires that killed your girlfriend? While you were wallowing in guilt, drinking yourself stoned, Morgan offered herself up as bait. The plan went wrong, and by the time we found her, the vampires had already dragged her underground. They had her pinned down, all of them on her at once, and she was making the most god-awful sounds I’ve ever heard. Begging, screaming, pleading for someone to help her.”

  “That’s why she doesn’t like to be crowded by people,” he croaked, his face misted with sweat. “Why she doesn’t like to be in close spaces.”

  Granger nodded. “It’s also part of the reason why she looked like she did when you thought I’d left her. She blamed herself for not being able to get over you, so that something between us could have a chance. But she was also still dealing with the trauma from the attack.”

  It was nearly impossible, but he finally managed to ask, “Did they…rape her?”

  “No, but it was close.” The vampire locked his jaw, his profile stark as he stared down at Morgan’s blood-covered body. “They had her stripped, their hands and mouths all over her, but I got there just before one of them penetrated her. A second later, and it would have been too late. The bastard was already between her legs.”

  It took a moment before he could get his throat to work, too much fury and regret and guilt raging through his system, making him feel like hammered shit. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he finally managed to rasp.

  A low, bitter laugh, and Granger shook his head. “She begged us not to, if you can believe it. Said you had enough to deal with. And you were so out of it at the time, the others agreed.”

  He found himself moving a little closer to the bed, his eyes burning with tears that he didn’t even try to hide. “I can’t…can’t believe she would have done something like that.”

  “Not so hard to believe, considering how crazy she was about you.” The vamp paused, then quietly asked, “Did you honestly not know how she felt?”

  His throat shook so badly, Kierland could barely get the words out. “I didn’t dare…hope. I was just…I couldn’t…”

  “You were scared.”

  For once, there was no judgment in Granger’s deep voice, and he sucked in a sharp breath, then gave a jerky nod. “Yeah. Always have been when it comes to her.” Hoarse, fractured words, rough with emotion. “I loved her, and it scared the hell out of me.”

  Kierland could see the past so clearly now that it hurt, like a wound that’d been carved into his heart. Could see what an idiot he’d been with a sharp, painful clarity that made him want to throw back his head and howl. Over the years, he’d built up an image of Morgan in his mind to help him stay away from her. But deep down, he’d always known it was a fraud. He hadn’t sought out the truth, choosing to believe the rumors, as well as the lies he told himself, because it made it easier to keep his distance.

  He’d been a jackass. And he didn’t deserve her. But…he wasn’t prepared to lose her, either. Which meant he was just going to have to spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to her. Trying to become a man who was worthy of her love.

  He was still scared as hell of something happening to her, and always would be. But he would suck it up and deal, because he got it now. Loving her meant surrendering to it all, even the fear, and fighting for what he wanted. Yeah, he’d probably be overprotective and possessive, but Morgan was strong enough to keep him in line. She was a beautiful, breathtaking goddess, and he was going to spend the rest of his life worshipping at her feet, thanking God for every moment that he had with her.

  Moving between them, to the side of her bed, Granger reached down and gripped her wrist, checking her pulse. Fear burned in his pale eyes as he looked over his shoulder, locking his gaze with Kierland’s. “If you don’t do it soon,” he said, “you’re going to lose her.”

  He nodded, swallowed and started to move around the Deschanel, but Granger turned and blocked his way. “But make sure,” the vamp warned him in a hard voice, his gray eyes glittering with emotion. “She’d rather go now, than be stuck with you for the rest of her life if you don’t really want her.”

  “She’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he rasped, the husky confession scratching his throat.

  “Then do this thing and make her right,” Granger muttered, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Drives me crazy seeing her like this.”

  Feeling the strained bands of his jealousy beginning to snap, one by one, Kierland said, “You really care about her, don’t you?”

  Granger rolled his eyes and snorted. “I won’t be trying to steal her away,” he murmured, his tone dry, “so don’t waste your time worrying about it.”

  “No…I just,” Kierland swallowed, took a deep breath, then held out his hand and said, “thank you for being her friend. For taking care of her all these years.”

  Looking a little shell-shocked himself, the vampire shook his hand, cast another worried glance over his shoulder at Morgan, then pulled his hand down his face again. “Okay, then. I’m getting outta here. This is too much for me.”

  “Wait,” Kierland called out, as Granger pulled open the door, an icy blast of wind whipping through the room. With one hand on the door frame and the other on the handle, the vamp looked back at him, and Kierland said, “There’s still one thing I can’t figure out. Why has she always claimed that you were the one who broke things off?”

  A low laugh slid lazily from Granger’s lips, and he smiled. “That was Morgan’s idea. She didn’t want to ruin my reputation. Always has been too sweet for her own good.” His head tilted a little to the side, and his eyes narrowed as he said, “Just so you know, Watchman, I’ll be keeping an eye on you, making sure you treat her right.”

  Kierland jerked his chin to acknowledge the warning, and then the door closed behind the vampire, leaving him and Morgan alone in the firelit room. With his heart pounding to a powerful, thundering beat, he walked to the bed and stared down at the woman who’d turned his entire world on its head from the moment he’d first met her. Things had never been right since, because he’d wasted so many years fighting the inevitable.

  But not anymore.

  Careful not to jar her, Kierland lowered himself onto the bed, bracing himself on an elbow as he lay down beside her. She didn’t move, the rise and fall of her chest so faint, it was nearly imperceptible. The back of his throat burned, and he leaned over her, pressing his wet face to the exquisitely soft, chilled skin at the side her throat. He could feel her fading, drifting away from him, and his voice shook as he put his mouth to the tender shell of her ear and whispered, “I hope that you can hear me, sweetheart, because I love you. I should have told you today. Damn it, I should have told you a thousand times before, and I’m sorry for each time that I didn’t. For every second that we lost. But…but I promise you that I’ll never let you down again. I’ll tell you every day, with words and the touch of my body and the way that I look at you. I swear you’ll never have to second-guess or wonder how I feel. I’ll be the most obvious bastard alive, and I don’t give a damn how badly the others rib me about it. I don’t ca
re about anything but you. About spending the rest of my life with you and making you happy.”

  The fire in the hearth crackled as the Lycan drew in a deep breath and pushed her hair back from the pale, precious angles of her face. His heart beat faster as he pressed a tender kiss to the corner of her eye…the feminine curve of her jaw…the fragile column of her throat.

  Then he released his fangs, whispered that he loved her and made the bite.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The Casus/Kraven Compound

  Friday night

  A STRING OF HOARSE, guttural swear words whispered past Kellan Scott’s lips as he paced the confines of his cell. The Lycan had spent the past twenty-four hours in an interrogation room on the ground floor of Westmore’s compound, where the Casus had done their best to find out why he’d traveled into the Wasteland. Between the violent beatings, Kellan had fed their assumptions that he was after the Dark Markers in their possession, careful not to show any interest in the whereabouts of the other prisoners. And it had paid off. Twenty minutes ago, they’d finally taken him downstairs, shoving him into one of the cold, barren cells that lined an entire wall of the compound’s underground level. Although the iron bars on the front of the cells offered a clear view to those standing on the outside, the individual cells were separated by walls, making it impossible for the prisoners to see each other.

  As he’d passed the first cell, Kellan had spied a slight female form sleeping on a narrow cot before they’d locked him inside the adjacent cell, and he assumed she was “the psychic” the Kraven had been talking about at the camp on Thursday night. All the other cells were empty.

  Chloe Harcourt wasn’t there.

  Kellan could detect the lingering scent of a female Merrick in the empty cell on his left, which told him that Chloe had been staying there. But where the hell was she? Her faint, mouthwatering scent was a gut-wrenching reminder that he had somehow just missed her despite all he’d been through. He tried to hold on to his reason and his faltering hope. But it wasn’t easy. Three days earlier, he’d been bitten by an infected Deschanel. Although he couldn’t pass the poison on to another, it was slowly spreading through his system, and he couldn’t control the tension in his aching muscles, his body flashing between extremes of hot and cold.

  “Damn it,” he snarled, under his breath, terrified that they had taken her someplace with the intention of hurting her. That she was scared and alone. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and tried to still the shivers that shook his spine while sweat trickled down the sides of his face. “Where the hell are you, woman?”

  “They haven’t harmed her,” someone murmured, the soft, raspy voice coming from the cell where the psychic had been sleeping. “They’ve taken her to be examined by a doctor.”

  Wedging himself into the right front corner of his cell, Kellan wrapped his hands around the iron bars, the metal cold against his fevered palms. “Why a doctor?” he asked in a hoarse voice, careful to speak quietly enough that they wouldn’t be overheard by those upstairs. “What happened to her? Is she hurt?”

  “She’s weak, because her awakening Merrick half is starved for its first feeding,” the female whispered. “Westmore refuses to allow anyone to touch her, because he’s saving her for someone named Calder. So they’re going to try to give her the blood she needs intravenously. But it won’t work.”

  “I know,” he rasped, stunned by the knowledge that Chloe’s awakening had already begun. “When are they bringing her back?”

  Silence, and then a soft reply. “Soon.”

  “Who are you?” he asked, his unsteady words rough with fury as he thought of the things the Kraven had been saying about this young woman. Their crude jokes about the torture and abuse she had suffered since being captured.

  “My name is Raine,” she told him, “and you’ve already figured out why I’m here. I’m Westmore’s pet psychic.”

  “If you’re psychic, can you see the future?” he asked, swallowing against a dry throat. “Can you tell me what’s going to happen?”

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “but my powers don’t work that way. I can only see the past and the present. But from what I’ve seen, I can tell you that something bad is coming. A Casus named Gregory is on his way here to destroy Westmore.”

  “Gregory’s an asshole,” Kellan muttered, curling his busted lip as he leaned his damp forehead against the cell’s cool iron bars, “but if he wants Westmore, he’s welcome to him. His attack may even serve as a diversion and give us a chance to escape. I’ll find a way to get both you and Chloe out of here.”

  “I’m afraid it won’t be that simple.”

  “Why not? What do you see?”

  “This Gregory wants more than just Westmore,” she explained, the quiet words edged with exhaustion and pain. “Even if you escape here with the witch, you won’t be free. Not while Gregory still lives.”

  “Oh, shit,” he groaned, understanding what she was trying to tell him. The Casus bastard wanted Chloe, too.

  Kellan’s gut twisted with dread, and he prayed that Kierland was nearby, knowing they were going to need his help when they finally escaped. With Chloe’s awakening draining her strength and the poison twisting through his insides, there was no telling what kind of shape they would be in when they finally made it out.

  “Can you see my brother?” he asked in a low voice. “Is he okay?”

  “I can see him, and he’s fine. Anxious to get you out of here, but willing to play it your way.” It almost sounded as if she was smiling as she said, “There’s quite a lot that he wants to say to you.”

  Kellan gave a soft snort, knowing Kierland had to be furious with him. “Yeah, I’ll bet there is.”

  “He’s not angry with you,” she whispered. “Not anymore. He’s terrified for your safety, but he’s thankful that you brought the female Watchman into his life. There were a few…complications, but he’s determined not to lose her. In fact, he’s already claimed her with his bite.”

  Shaking his head, a slow smile curved Kellan’s battered mouth, and he sent up a silent word of thanks to whoever might be listening. Despite the hell that he’d survived and the challenges that lay ahead, it felt good to know that he’d actually gotten something right.

  After all these years, his brother finally had his woman.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The Sabin Compound

  Saturday evening

  TWO DAYS AFTER KIERLAND had bitten her, Morgan still hadn’t regained consciousness.

  Kierland would have been terrified, if Juliana Sabin hadn’t assured him that it was completely normal for the healing process to take a little time. Having never intended to claim a mate, he’d not paid much attention to the more intricate rules that applied to the act, and it drove him crazy that he didn’t know what to expect. Yeah, he’d known the basics. But he couldn’t help worrying that he’d done something wrong. Did it matter that she hadn’t been conscious when the bite was made, or that she’d already lost so much blood? He constantly berated himself for not sinking his fangs into her the moment he’d made it back to the cabin on Thursday evening, but he’d been so certain that Granger was the one she wanted….

  After he’d gone outside to let them know the bite had been made, Juliana had invited them back to the Sabin compound. Kierland had accepted the offer, wanting to keep Morgan in as secure a location as possible, especially with the renewed threat of the Death-Walkers hanging over their heads. The female Deschanel had also graciously offered the use of her room, and she came to check on Morgan often, even helping Kierland to bathe and dress her in a clean T-shirt, so that she would be more comfortable when she finally came to. And Ashe stayed with her for hours at a time, his grief and concern carved into the grim lines of his handsome face as he sat at Morgan’s bedside, holding her slim hand in both of his. Kierland had thanked the vampire again, and had even shared some quiet conversations with the man he’d expected to hate for all eternity. But it was hard to
hold a grudge against the cocky bastard when Kierland was starting to like him so much. Ashe had even agreed to join in their fight against the Casus, just as soon as he’d managed to track down his brother, and Kierland had told him that he’d be damn appreciative for their skills on the battlefield.

  The only thing they hadn’t talked about was the “family trouble” Ashe and Gideon were dealing with, but Kierland knew better than to push. He’d made it clear, though, that if they needed his help, all they had to do was let him know.

  Even Micah, who had been chained inside his room since his return to the Sabin compound, had expressed his concern for Morgan’s welfare. Although the poison continued to send him into his mad bouts of rage, Juliana had told Kierland that there were times when Micah seemed at peace with his confinement, relieved to be somewhere that he couldn’t harm anyone. Despite their continued searches for the young vampire that Micah had taken hostage when he’d last escaped, she hadn’t been found. The Sabins feared the worst, terrified that Micah, who claimed he couldn’t remember what had happened to his cousin, had actually killed the girl.

  On several occasions, Kierland and Ashe had tried to question Juliana about the reason for her family’s confinement within the Wasteland, but she’d refused to answer, claiming the subject was still too painful to discuss. While Kierland was content to let her keep her secrets, Ashe seemed unable to contain his frustration. He constantly started arguments with Juliana, until she’d begun to leave the room whenever he came to visit Morgan.

  For the most part, though, Kierland had simply spent his time alone with the female who was now his mate, holding her in his arms, praying to every higher power he could think of that she would wake up and come back to him. His bite had healed the physical wounds that the Death-Walkers had made, but it was the ones he couldn’t see, that were buried inside her, that scared him most. And yet, whenever he’d start to worry that the trauma of the attack had been too much for her, he’d remind himself that she was the bravest, strongest woman he’d ever known, and hold her more tightly, whispering in her ear, telling her that she had to come back to him, because he couldn’t live without her.