by Bec McMaster
No sign of recognition in his eyes.
Ingrid swallowed hard and stepped toward him, her leg giving way just enough that she nearly fell. Byrnes caught her, the reflex dangerously fast. “Byrnes,” she whispered, looking up into his eyes as the EMLED finally died. The last thing she saw was the predator looking back. “Caleb,” she whispered in the darkness. “I’ve often wondered if you’d mind if I called you that?”
"Miller," he breathed, as if the word meant something to him.
"Ingrid," she corrected, resting a hesitant hand on his arm. “It’s me, Ingrid. The woman who… who loves you. And I know you love me too, even if you’ve never said it. You wouldn’t be thinking about a future with me if you didn’t. You wouldn’t hover at my bedside, or feed me soup, or create a way to keep rats from my room if you didn’t. Who knew?” Ingrid reached up onto her toes, her heart hammering in her chest. “Caleb Byrnes has a heart, and it’s all mine.”
And then she kissed him.
The first touch of her lips to his was hesitant. Byrnes captured the back of her neck, however, and dragged her against him like a drowning man searching for oxygen. The way he kissed her, the way he touched her, was rougher, more urgent, than he’d ever been before.
Ingrid gasped for breath, and then he picked her up under her thighs and wrapped her legs around his hips. Another kiss stole her mouth, and her back hit the brick wall of the tunnel. Ingrid gasped as pain flared through her. Byrnes froze, letting her slide back down his body again.
He growled deep in his throat, his hand coming up to cup the nape of her neck as he turned his face into her throat. Ingrid froze.
A fierce trembling shivered through his hard body. "You're hurt," he whispered, his voice raw. She'd never heard him sound like that.
"A little." Ingrid shivered. The loupe was beginning to take its toll. She was exhausted and almost at the point where her body was beginning to shut down in order to repair itself.
“Tell me again,” he said as a shudder ran through him.
“Tell you—” And then she knew. “I love you.”
He shuddered as she stroked the back of his neck, holding him against her.
“I love you too,” he whispered, pressing his cheek against hers like a cat. “You’re everything to—”
Noise echoed through the tunnel—the sound of voices. Byrnes lifted his head sharply. She realized she could just make out the edge of his jawline in the dark.
"He went through here!" Malloryn yelled.
Oh, no. Stillness slid through Byrnes's body, and the sinister way he turned to survey the tunnel sent a chill through her.
"Byrnes," she whispered. "They're friends. Our friends."
A hand shoved her behind him, and she nearly went down again as her calf betrayed her. Only a snatch at his coat saved her.
As lights bobbed toward them, revealing the outline of four men and one lumbering spitfire automaton, Ingrid intensified her hold on his coat. She couldn't hold him. Not like this. And he was dangerous at the moment. If not to her, then to their friends.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching for the hemlock darts at her belt that Ava had doctored to have enough strength to take down a vampire.
Byrnes's head turned back to her.
And then she jammed the hemlock dart into his gut, and hoped it did the job.
THIRTY-FIVE
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH him?" Ingrid demanded, pacing the room as Byrnes snapped and snarled from the examination table he was strapped to. It had been a long trip home, despite the way Kincaid pushed the carriage horses.
Ava lifted her head from the microscope. "His blood's beginning to change. It's full of blacker, sickle-shaped globules, and they're overwhelming his... craving virus cells."
Ingrid strode toward the microscope and peered through it. Ava was right. "Like what happened to Gemma's." Hope flared. "There's a chance that he'll return to normal then?"
"Ingrid." The tone of the word said too much.
"Gemma's levels are still dropping."
Ava began rolling up her sleeves, preparing an injection of hemlock to subdue Byrnes. "Gemma absorbed some of the dhampir's blood, and it sent her body into a fever state, increased her craving virus levels, and then healed her. Byrnes received a full dose of this elixir that they use to transform a blue blood." Ava hesitated. "I don't know enough about what's happening, but the way he reacted... it's nothing like how Gemma did. I don't know what's going to happen to him."
"No," Ingrid snarled, raking her hands through her hair as her verwulfen temper unleashed. "No! I've only just found him." This couldn't be happening to her. Dare to dream, and then someone stole it from you before it could come true. She should never have risked it. Never have believed in it. Ingrid curled into a hunched position as the berserkergang flushed through her, her fists throbbing as she squeezed them. "I can't lose him," she whispered hopelessly.
Ava went to her knees beside her and clasped her hands. "Ingrid, I won't let anything happen to him if I can help it. He's important to both of us."
Ingrid nodded.
"If there's any chance at all, I'll find it," Ava promised, then helped her to her feet.
"Thank you." She staggered back to Byrnes's side, touching his hand gently. The thrashing stopped, as though her presence bought him peace. "You had better come back to me," she whispered in his ear. "Because you promised you would never leave me alone. You're failing your third challenge, Byrnes."
Byrnes's fingers twitched as if he heard her, and she swallowed. "He's coming around."
"Hold him still," Ava said, tapping the syringe.
"I will." Ingrid leaned on his shoulder and arm. "Trust me," she whispered, when those black eyes locked on hers. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I'll protect you, Byrnes. We just need to make you... relax."
Malloryn strode in through the door, waving a leather-bound book in his hands. "Got it!
"Got what?" Ava asked, finding the vein in Byrnes's arm and injecting more hemlock to keep him temporarily paralyzed.
"Dr. Cremorne's journals," he replied, peering down at the patient as the tension flooded out of Byrnes's body. "Here's everything we need to pull him through this." That all-seeing gaze locked on Ingrid. "You look like hell."
She glared at him.
"She won't let me see to her leg," Ava admitted, pressing gauze down over the injection site as she removed the syringe from Byrnes's arm. "And I've got my hands full."
Traitor. Ingrid bared her teeth at both of them and paced, trying not to limp.
"And that pacing is distracting me," Ava warned, giving her a dire look. "Ingrid, he's fine for the moment."
Surprisingly, it was Malloryn who caught her by her arm and dragged her toward the door. "I'll see to it."
"If you want to keep that hand, I'd suggest you remove it," Ingrid growled, peering through the open door as Ava opened the journal.
Malloryn sat her down in the parlor, then went to one knee in front of her. "Temper, temper, Miss Miller. Tell me what happened down there," he said, and began gently tugging at her boot.
This was for the best. It had to be. Ingrid spared the examination room one last glance, then told Malloryn everything.
When she got to the part about Byrnes coming out of the darkness and killing the vampire with his bare hands, she began trembling.
Shaking, she bit her lip as she looked up at him, the loupe threatening to override her. "P-promise me.... Promise m-me you w-won't kill him. No matter... w-what."
Malloryn's lips thinned. "Ingrid, he's been injected with the elixir vitae. Whatever happens to him, it's out of my hands now."
She curled her good hand in his shirt and yanked him closer. "If you kill him, I will hunt you down."
Lightning flashed in Malloryn's blue eyes, but he caught her wrist and arched a brow. "I'm not going to kill him. Not unless it becomes necessary. To be honest, I actually rather like the bastard. And...."
"And?" She wasn't certain she liked the wa
y he said that.
"Think about it. If he survives, then that means that we have our very own dhampir," Malloryn muttered, sliding her bloodied stocking down over her foot. "One that can stand against a vampire and survive."
"You cold bastard." Ingrid winced. "You mean to use him."
"Someone has to make the hard decisions, Ingrid. And that someone is usually me." Malloryn's brow furrowed as he pressed gently against her calf. "The bleeding's stopped, but the skin still looks raw. How does this feel?"
She gasped as he probed it. "As though you just set fire to my leg."
Malloryn eased back, then stared at her. "It looks fine. You'll heal, and I'm no surgeon. But judging from the way you're shaking, you need to sleep and let your body heal."
"I'm not... leaving him...." Sweat dripped down her forehead, her entire body beginning to convulse as the loupe fought to drag her under.
"You might not have a choice. I'll sit with him," Malloryn promised, his face gentling. "At least until you're on your feet again. I swear I won't let anything happen to him."
Because Byrnes's potential dhampir state made him valuable. Ingrid hated to admit it, but her eyelids were so heavy. "Wake me if he snaps out of his fugue."
"I will."
* * *
THE FOLLOWING EVENING, Ingrid blinked her eyelids as the chill of the room began to wake her. Her head slipped off her hand, and she almost thumped her chin into the arm of the armchair as she came fully awake.
Where was she—?
It all came flooding back. Byrnes. Zero. The elixir. And finally falling asleep in the armchair that Malloryn dragged into the examination room for her.
"Awake?" whispered a soft, sensual voice.
A head turned, and then Byrnes stared at her with those all-black eyes, his wrists and feet manacled to the table and steel bands snapped tight over his throat and waist.
"Byrnes?" she breathed the word, then found her feet. Before remembering that he wasn't quite himself.
His nostrils flared at the sight of her hesitation, and he flexed his wrists inside the steel manacles. "I'm... myself again. Hungry as all hell. But... in control. I think."
"Oh, thank God!" She hurried to his side, reaching out to caress his face. "You gave me one hell of a fright."
Byrnes turned his cheek into the caress, the tension washing out of him, as though her touch settled him. "I can imagine. I just... keep seeing that creature diving for you over and over again...." He shuddered, his lip curling up in a snarl that he fought down. "And I lost myself. God, you don't know what it feels like. I've known the hunger all these years but this.... It's like a black wave washing over me, and I lose all sense of rationality. Nothing but primal instincts remain. You. Me. Mine." The way he snarled the word was most unlike him.
"Do you remember?"
"Enough." His gaze slid unerringly to the jug of chilled blood on the vanity. "I need to feed, before the urge overwhelms me."
"Let me undo you," she whispered, turning for his wrist.
Byrnes froze. "No. No, Ingrid, leave me here." He swallowed hard, his hips flexing almost unconsciously. "I'm in control, but I can't say how long that will last. The slightest things drive me under the darkness again. Perhaps... just unlock the band at my throat. So I can drink?"
She unlatched the steel band and then cupped his head to lift it to the jug. Byrnes drained the entire thing, the bands of muscle in his throat working greedily. Finally he slumped back down, and she wiped his mouth with a clean cloth.
Ingrid dragged a stool to his side. "Ava's working on reading Cremorne's journals, so that she can perhaps reverse the process—"
"No." The word jarred the quiet of the room. He looked at her. "There is no way back. Zero told me that, right before she injected me with the serum. If I stop now, then I'll die." He shuddered again. "Worse than that; I'll become a vampire."
Ingrid couldn't resist sliding her fingers into his. "Then we'll work out a way forward."
"There'll be another six treatments, each a week apart," he told her, squeezing her hand back. "Zero said the first one was the worst. Maybe... maybe I won't react as badly next time."
"Did it hurt?"
"Still does." His voice was raw. "I can feel my body changing. Ingrid...."
"Yes?"
"If you can't deal with this, then you let me know," he said. "While I'm still lucid." That stark gaze locked on hers. "I won't blame you if you call an end to us right now. I don't know what the future holds—"
"None of us do," she replied fiercely, leaning down and pressing her lips to his. Just lightly. Need almost overtook her, but it was the sudden rush of hot tears to her eyes that burned the most. "And I'm not leaving you, you fool. I'll sit by your side through all of this. And I'll be there waiting for you at the end, when it's safe. I know that you think that I'm yours, that you have some claim on me. And it's true, but so is this: you belong to me too, Byrnes. And I'm not letting go. You're mine."
She was no longer afraid of surrendering herself to him, of taking that risk. Losing him in this way was a far worse alternative. And just like that, all of her earlier hesitation had vanished.
“I remember what you said, in the tunnel….”
She remembered too. “I meant every word.”
As if the words overwhelmed him, he kissed her back fiercely, his tongue thrusting into her mouth and his need overwhelming her. It was a long time before she came back up for air, but the passionate rage inside her was strangely assuaged.
Mine. She liked the word. She liked the claiming of it. For too many years there'd been a hole—a longing—inside her, but as she drew back and smiled at him, she realized that there was no gaping emptiness inside her. Not anymore. That place had been filled. And regardless of what happened in the future, she felt oddly at peace.
And half tempted to take advantage of the situation.
Ingrid made a purring sound deep in her throat as she dragged her nails down his abdomen. "This reminds me of a promise I made, once upon a time, that went unfulfilled."
"You fulfilled your promise to the letter," he breathed, heat filling his expression. "And I'd love to take you up on that offer, but I think"—he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in deep—"that we'd be best to stick to something less overwhelming."
Instantly she eased back onto her chair. "Lust is a consuming thought?"
"Anything primal," he admitted, with a faint mocking smile. "I'm holding on to the thought that when I finally get a hold on this, I get to have you all to myself. I'm planning everything that I'm going to do to you. In exquisite detail." He swallowed again.
"I'd best make sure that the house is empty when that happens," she teased, but only lightly.
"And perhaps reinforce the bed."
"Well now." Ingrid smiled.
"Read to me?" he whispered, turning that all-black gaze on her one more time.
Ingrid took a deep breath. "What would you like to hear?"
"Pride and Prejudice," he said, then shrugged when he saw her eyebrows arch. "What? It's my mother's favorite."
"And of course, you don't see anything of Mr. Darcy in yourself?"
"Are you calling me proud?"
Ingrid laughed, then pressed a kiss to his forehead before she went in search of the book. "It's one of your most frustrating traits, yes. But Byrnes," she paused in the doorway with a flirtatious smile, "I still love you, despite it."
* * *
LOVE YOU.
Byrnes breathed in the words, feeling them flood through him, a light to sway the darkness. Ingrid didn't know how close to the edge he still was, but everything she'd said gave him hope—a means to fight this.
He'd spent years in perfect control of his craving virus and his emotions. He could win this battle. And he would.
Because he had one hell of a prize waiting for him when he did.
"Seven weeks," he whispered, as a promise to himself. "You can do this."
Because her love was worth the fight.<
br />
* * *
ZERO STRAINED at the manacles binding her, feeling them give, just slightly. Malloryn might have her trapped in this godforsaken little dungeon, but if he thought steel could keep her here, then he had another think coming.
The first thing I'm going to do is kill that cold bastard, she told herself as she felt the steel link stretching on the chain that pinned her right hand. Perhaps I'll even make him eat his own tongue?
Footsteps whispered in the hallway outside. Zero looked up, holding still.
A key rattled in the lock, and a chill ran through her, taking her back years and years to that first asylum. Zero fought to remain calm. Everyone who'd ever hurt her was dead. Malloryn didn't scare her. And she was Zero now, not Annabelle. She was prepared for anything. No doubt it was merely Malloryn, that smug bastard, back to question her or to gloat some more.
"I'm not telling you anything else!" she snarled.
And then the door opened and a figure stepped inside, easing it closed behind him.
Zero's resistance faded as she caught a glimpse of that moonlight-pale hair, her shoulders slumping into the seat. "It's about bloody time. I thought you were never going to come."
"Have you told them anything?"
Zero paused. "Of course not."
But she knew he'd caught the pause.
Obsidian stepped closer, tugging off his gloves, one finger at a time. His face remained implacable. "I'm not telling you anything... else," he repeated. "Which means you told them something."
A mistake. Oh, hell. Zero wrestled with her chains. "I meant... Caleb Byrnes. That bastard tricked me. I thought I had him captured and I might have mentioned one or two things about dhampir, but nothing else. I swear it, Obsidian!"
Thick blond lashes obscured his eyes. "You mentioned nothing about the Master?"
If she could have sweated, she was certain she'd be doing so right now. "Of course not! Do you think I'm stupid! If Malloryn gets even a hint of what this is all about—"
A single slashing hand stopped her. "Good. The Master is not happy. You've made one mess too many, Annabelle. You were warned to follow your orders and not draw too many eyes to the moves behind the scenes, but thanks to your arrogance, Malloryn is now aware of things he shouldn't know yet. You got sloppy."