“You backed it all up, didn’t you?” Briar asked and then wrinkled her nose. She hadn’t meant to sound patronizing. Uttering a sentence like that after a computer issue was like asking someone who lost their keys where was the last place they saw them. “Sorry, Hudson.”
“It’s fine.” He reached for her, and Valen dropped his arms. Briar went to him, hugging him tight. “I know what you meant. I believe I did. I had a program that backed up automatically. I suppose I could check some of my work from home. I left the laptop there. Besides, the ventilation system in these labs is good, but it hasn’t yet filtered out the smell.”
“So let’s go home,” Briar said. “You can disprove my theories there.”
He kissed her head, and she shivered. If she could spend her whole life wrapped in their arms, she would be the happiest person on earth. The thought struck her again—how did she get so lucky?
“I don’t want to sound like a broken record,” Marcus droned. “But I do have a lab as well. We could go there. To Harvard.”
Briar giggled. “I would love to go to your lab.” She straightened and turned in the circle of Hudson’s arms to face Marcus. His green eyes were light, happy. The shadows were likely to return. His past had a lot of pain and ghosts, and they would turn up when they least expected it. But he didn’t have to hide them anymore. She hoped he knew that.
“I would feel better,” Sylvain said from where he waited, “if we went home. I don’t want to be fucking around in Boston when Asher is out there, planning fuck-all.”
“Sylvain has a point,” Valen agreed. “Cleaning this up put us closer to sunrise. And I didn’t make it home for Briar’s clothing. If we leave now, we’ll get there in plenty of time. Otherwise she’ll be stuck here all day.”
“I’m missing more class,” Briar said. It was a small price to pay for her safety, but it needled her all the same.
“Class or your life,” Sylvain stated. “What do you want to do?”
Briar glared at him, but he only lifted the side of his lips, amused. “Live.”
“Then let’s go,” Sylvain said. “Valen, you stay here with Hudson. Marcus and I will scout ahead before doubling back.” He flashed to Briar and tugged her into his arms. He smelled like cleaning agents and the soap from the restroom. “You won’t even know we’re gone. That’s how fast we’ll be.”
She hugged him back. “I know. Marcus already told me. Vampires are really fast.”
Sylvain chuckled, and she reveled in the sound. Her beast of a man was less and less grumpy. He smiled more and laughed at least once a day. As he moved to leave her, she hugged him tighter. “I love you,” she said against his flannel shirt. The wavy strands of his hair tickled her nose as he bent his head to kiss her.
“Love you, too,” he said and, with a glance at Marcus, left.
It took Hudson seconds to shut the place down, and then they were hurrying through the lower level of the building toward the exit. Valen and Hudson were silent; one in front of her, one walking behind. Hudson kept her hand in his as he rushed her through the hall. Briar kept her eyes open, too, even though she wouldn’t see a problem until it was right on top of her.
What would it be like to keep up with them? To be as fast and as strong? How far could they see? What did the world sound like to them?
Sylvain stood at the exit, and as soon as she was close enough, he swept her into his arms and into the waiting car.
Then they were off.
Briar sighed and leaned back against the leather seat. Sunrise was a little while away. The streetlights were still on, but the sky had lightened from black to navy and the clock on Marcus’s dashboard read five-thirty. The traffic was moving smoothly as they headed toward home, and the rhythmic flash of the street lamps soon had her struggling to keep her eyes open.
“Go to sleep,” Hudson whispered. “I’ll wake you up when we get home.”
Briar nodded, too tired to answer, and in a matter of minutes, she was asleep.
Chapter Eighteen
Sylvain
Briar fell asleep on Hudson’s shoulder, and the dickhead refused to pass her over. “Leave it, Sylvain,” he told him after the twelfth request.
Grumbling, Sylvain faced the window and watched the scenery pass. The sky seemed too light for how far they were from home. Leaning forward, Sylvain peeled his flannel shirt off and tucked it over Briar. She had her coat on, and wouldn’t need it, but in a pinch, it could cover her face.
“We’re an hour from daylight, at least.” Marcus must have caught his move in the rearview mirror. “Daylight savings, remember?”
“I know,” Sylvain replied. He didn’t elaborate. There was a pit in his stomach that grew with each passing minute, and he wouldn’t be at ease until Briar was in bed, preferably wrapped in his arms.
Ahead of their car, there was a row of brake lights, and Marcus slowed. Sylvain edged forward in his seat to see what the problem was. The street was flooded. City workers had set up cones and directed traffic around the fast moving waters. Caution lights blinked orange, reflecting off the water as Marcus pulled around and followed the direction the worker pointed.
“Of fucking course,” he muttered and glanced at Briar. She’d sleep through the whole thing and wouldn’t know he sat here, stressing like a freak.
No one answered, but Valen glanced back when Sylvain spoke. Lips pressed together, eyes narrowed, Valen’s gaze was loaded. Then he, too, stared out the window at the sky before facing front with tight shoulders.
The drive from Boston College to Back Bay was around five miles, which in Boston, without traffic, took just over twenty minutes. It was a straight shot from west to east, but for some reason, the detour took them north.
“Just turn right then right again,” Sylvain grumbled. There was no reason to continue north when they could run parallel to their original route.
“I tried that,” Marcus replied. His tone was short, spoken through clenched teeth. “But the road is closed. That’s why I need to go further north before heading east again.”
“I could get out and run her home,” Valen offered. “I could be there in minutes. We all could. Let’s ditch the car and do it.”
“I don’t like the idea of dashing through Boston right before daylight,” Hudson said. “At the very least, if we’re in the car, we can cover her with coats and protect her.”
Sylvain glanced at the clock again and the sky. “Fuck.”
A sharp crack interrupted their conversation. The windshield shattered, spiderwebs of cracks obscuring the street and Marcus swerved to the curb. “Fuckfuckfuck,” he repeated, jerking his head from side to side as he tried to find a way to see through the ruined glass.
Briar startled when the windshield shattered, but she didn’t scream or yell. Sylvain caught her eye and saw the confusion clear, leaving only fright.
He growled and peered out the window. He didn’t see anyone, or anything, but he knew they were out there. This whole thing, from the water to a wandering detour, was a ruse.
This wasn’t a residential area. Industrial businesses and a self-storage warehouse were on either side of the street. It was, for all intents and purposes, abandoned, but Sylvain recognized it for what it was—a battlefield.
“Do we run or fight?” he asked Hudson and Marcus.
“We have to fight,” Valen said before they could take breath to answer. “They’ll be prepared for us to run. We have no choice.”
Marcus reached forward, punching the glass. Valen caught on quickly. He unbuckled and lifted his legs, kicking the windshield out of the frame so Marcus could see. It was a last ditch effort, but worth making. The engine revved as his brother gunned it, wheels spinning on the wet pavement. But they were ready for the move.
Marcus hadn’t made it a block before the tires popped. Knuckles white, he tried to keep driving. White and orange sparks flew off the stripped rims. It was a losing fight. All the strength in the world meant nothing when the tires tore into the
brakes and suspension. The car seized to a halt, the smell of burned rubber and exhaust heavy in the air.
For the first time in his immortal life, Sylvain wished his sight wasn’t so good. Briar’s blue eyes were wide and her face pale. Her teeth bit into her lower lip as her body trembled. But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was what he saw in her eyes. Fear, yes. But, also acceptance, as if she knew what was about to happen could never be avoided.
He reached toward her quickly and gripped her arm, pulling her closer so her human eyes could see how serious he was. “Don’t you give up. You fucking fight, Briar. You run. You survive. Got that?”
It felt as if every muscle in her body quivered in fear, but she nodded. “I’ll fight with you.”
“No,” Hudson commanded. “We’re going to get you out of here. But there may be a point when we tell you to run. Listen to Sylvain. You run when we say run. And you don’t look back.”
Tears spilled from her eyes, but she made no move to swipe them away. “I won’t leave you.”
“We’ll find you,” Valen whispered. “We promise.”
Something landed on the front of the car, and the metal groaned against the weight. Sylvain saw the soldier, crouched, fangs bared, but because of the broken headlights and streetlights, Briar couldn’t see that. All she felt was the sudden movement, and heard the crash.
Still, she didn’t scream.
With one smooth extension, Marcus reached over the steering column and dashboard. One-handed, he caught the soldier around the neck and snapped it.
It would have been too quick for Briar to follow what happened next. A tug, and the soldier fell into the car. A bite, and the head was removed from the body. His brother opened his door and shoved the body outside, but in the second that the dome light illuminated the interior of the car, Briar saw the soldier.
And she saw how deadly they were.
Hudson held her hand, looked across her to Sylvain, and nodded before they exploded into motion.
Wrapped in his arms, Briar could only hold on as Hudson jumped out of the car and took off. Sylvain followed on their heels, with Valen and Marcus surrounding them.
Their best hope was to run toward a populated area, push Briar among the throng, and then disappear into the darkness to fight.
But Sylvain had never been one to pin much on hope, and they hadn’t made it twenty feet before the soldiers set upon them.
The first one went right for Briar. Sylvain caught the blur from the corner of his eye and plucked the soldier from the air before it could connect with his woman.
Snap. Bite. Tear.
One soldier dead.
They came one after the other, though Hudson still pushed forward. Valen and Marcus were machines, moving faster than Sylvain had ever seen them before. Valen was in his element, a berserker. He clawed apart anything that came close to them, throwing body parts in all directions, while Marcus ripped out throats, gouged eyes and tore limbs from bodies, all with a grim, teeth-baring smile.
And Briar.
Briar was silent.
The only sound she made was to suck in breath after breath. Her heart raced, the quick patter of a hummingbird’s wings against the air as it sipped from apple blossoms.
Hudson ran like a footballer, head down. He’d lifted Briar into his arms, moving as fast as was possible when every step was met with resistance. But he ducked, spun, and weaved between their attackers, his only goal to keep the girl in his arms alive.
There could be no other outcome.
The lights gleamed off the water, and Sylvain realized they’d been herded. The attack wasn’t meant to kill them, it was meant to push them to the place where the battle would truly begin. Here, with the ocean in front of them, the sun in their face, and only warehouses and empty cargo containers as company.
At the last moment, Hudson veered away, toward a warehouse. The soldiers didn’t like that, and they redoubled their efforts, coming twice as fast, twice as hard.
Sylvain didn’t break a sweat. He was made for this. Bodies fell at his feet, limbs littering the street like a path of rose petals. His brothers were blurs of motion, as relentless and merciless as him.
He’d never been so proud of them.
And he’d never been so scared for them.
Because Sylvain was wrong. This wasn’t a battle. This was the culmination of hundreds of years of anger, of waiting for the opportunity to exact revenge against the sons who rejected him.
And punish them.
Chapter Nineteen
Briar
When Briar was still in high school and spent nights awake, reading and studying and wishing she could see the sun, her brother, Jamie, was off at college and living the life she wanted to live.
One autumn break, he’d returned with his girlfriend. She didn’t last long. The end of their relationship came on the heels of that visit home, but to Briar, that girl was the epitome of cool.
She and Jamie holed up in his room with a record player. A record player. Jamie raided their father’s collection for records—sorry, no, vinyl. It was a very pretentious time for her brother, but every day for a week, Briar listened to the scratchy strains of The Doors through the lath and plaster walls. And there was this one song that Piper loved. It was called, The End. She and Jamie played it over and over until Briar, who’d never heard it before, went to sleep with the music replaying in her head.
Now, as Hudson rushed her through the cold streets of Boston on an early fall morning, the song came back into her head. It was the same lyric, one from the very beginning of the song. Jim Morrison’s haunting voice echoed in her mind, telling her this was the end. She hadn’t liked the song very much the first time she heard it, and she liked it even less now, when she recalled lines about the beautiful ends of elaborate plans.
Her vampires were art in motion. Perhaps she was as bloodthirsty as Sylvain claimed to be, but when she saw them, a tornado of color, it took her breath away. Blood spattered everywhere, but not red. The sun hadn’t risen in the sky enough for it to be anything but black. Perhaps that was its color even in the light, but to Briar’s human eyes, it seemed thicker, and darker.
Hudson’s grip on her bordered on painful, with one hand locked under her legs and another around her waist. His fingers dug into skin, but it only made her feel anchored to him, like anything that tried to grab her would have a heck of a time prying her from his arms. So she’d take the bruises she knew she’d find, because it was evidence of Hudson keeping her safe for as long as he could.
They were pushed closer to the water when the guys seemed to change tactics. Rather than waiting to be attacked, Marcus, Sylvain, and Valen fanned out. They snatched soldiers from all sides and tore them apart. Their attack allowed them to move out of the open and away from the water. From the corner of her eye, Briar could see the building they were angling for. It was a warehouse, but would give them some protection from the sun. The sheer number of soldiers Asher had sent after them would make it impossible for them to get home. The most they could hope for was protection for a little while.
This is the end, my beautiful friend.
Briar wished she could get the song out of her head, because she refused to believe this was it for them. Her vampires were shredding the enemy; they would do everything in their power to stay alive—to keep her alive.
“Now!” Sylvain yelled, and Hudson jumped.
No, jumped was too weak a word, he rocketed into the air. He let go of her legs for a second to break the remains of the glass in the warehouse’s upper story window. They flew through it, his body curled around hers, shielding her from most of the glass, though she felt pinpricks along her arms and neck. He couldn’t protect her from everything.
He landed in the dirt easily, knees bending so she was barely jostled. Valen, Sylvain, and Marcus came through after them, landing in front of them and pushing them toward the back of the warehouse.
It was too much to hope the soldiers wouldn’t f
ollow. They streamed through the windows like insects, a swarm of deadly, mindless drones with only one mission.
“The sun will be up soon,” Valen yelled as he attacked the first wave of soldiers. Their bodies piled up in front of them. “Asher will have to call them back soon.”
“Unless he plans on sacrificing them,” Sylvain yelled back.
Briar glanced up at the windows that framed the upper level of the building. Weak rays of sun were beginning to stream inside. Now, she could make out the soldiers’ faces. Men and women, some old, most young, but all with the same vacant gaze. Even when Marcus shredded their throats and ripped their head from their shoulders, they didn’t make a sound, didn’t beg for their lives, or scream in pain. They didn’t wince or grimace when her vampires’ sharp teeth bit into their bodies.
“They should be getting weaker,” Hudson whispered to himself. Briar followed his gaze to the windows. He stepped back into the shadows, but soon, with windows on every wall, there would be no place to hide from the sun. “Why aren’t they?”
A sharp whistle sounded through the air, and Hudson jerked, like he’d been struck. He released Briar’s legs, and her feet slid to the ground. As she fell, she studied him, and caught the gleam of metal. A dark, small, sliver was embedded in his neck. Hudson gripped it between his fingers and removed it, staring at the sharp tip in disbelief. Immediately, the whistle sounded through the warehouse. To Briar, it seemed louder than the grunts and growls of her guys as they fought.
Each of them paused when they were struck with the same dart as Hudson. They dropped the darts on the ground and continued to fight, but it threw them off. The next time a soldier attacked Sylvain, he made it under the sweep of his’s arm, sending her growling man flying backward.
Hudson suddenly whirled, the rush of air masking the whistle of sound. But he was too late, and Briar felt a dart embed itself beneath her skin. Her arm turned cold, like ice following the path of a river. Her blood seemed to freeze in her body, beginning in her arm before moving across her shoulder and down her chest. Hudson yanked the dart from her, sniffed it and threw it. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered. “It’s the medicine I made. It won’t hurt you.”
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