by Nina Croft
“Love the stuff. Look, just keep her from direct sunlight. Avoid crosses if you can. If you get caught, try and keep quiet about the whole vamp thing. We’ll spring the pair of you when we get there. But if they discover what she is, chances are they’ll stake her.”
“Jesus.”
“You’ll do okay,” Rico said. “Go find her.”
The comm light flashed off. They were gone. Fergal stared straight ahead at the console, still trying—and failing—to slow his breathing. His hands were shaking. Shit, even now she could be walking into trouble. What if she lost it like she had back on Trakis Four? Why the hell had they let her come? And come alone.
Breathe.
He just had to find her. Get her somewhere safe or preferably back on her ship and heading away from here. From him. Hell, didn’t she know he was nothing but trouble?
But beneath his panic was something else. She cared. Cared enough to fight her friends for him. To come after him and try to save him. No one had ever done that for him before.
Well, not since his mother.
The thought was like slamming headfirst into an ice asteroid.
No way was he going through that again. He refused to let someone matter to him, and he ignored the little nagging voice that told him it was already too late.
He wouldn’t let her matter.
He’d go find her, and he’d carry her back to her ship if he had to.
He’d tie her to the seat, set the autopilot, and send her back where she belonged. Then he’d go find Stefan, and he’d do what he came here to do. But now, he’d be aware that maybe Stefan wasn’t his friend after all. He was still trying to wrap his brain around that one.
First he had to find Daisy.
Take a deep breath.
Make a plan.
Glancing around the room, his gaze settled on the prison guard he’d knocked out. Now he crouched down beside the man and felt for a pulse. Nothing. Fergal undressed him quickly, pulled the uniform on over his own clothes, and strapped the laser pistol around his waist. It might give him a little cover.
Next, he pulled up the building plans on the console. He needed to be methodical. He couldn’t afford not to think straight right now. After imprinting them in his memory, he shut down the console and set off.
He eliminated two more guards on his way out of the prison, hiding their bodies as best he could. The next rotations weren’t for two hours, and with a little luck, he should have that much time. But since when had he been lucky?
Five minutes later, he left the prison and reached ground level. It was the middle of the night, so at least he didn’t have to worry about the sunlight thing for a little while. Hopefully, by the time the suns rose, Daisy would be well on her way away from here.
He passed a group of priests, but no one gave him a second look. Then a couple of sisters. He looked at them carefully, but they definitely weren’t Daisy.
Where would she be?
Tannis had said that Stefan was a personal guest of Temperance Hatcher. Which meant he’d be staying in the private residence on the upper floor. It would make sense for Daisy to go there. Or would it? She wasn’t aware that he’d contacted Tannis and knew about Stefan. So she’d expect him to be in the prison searching.
He did an about turn and hurried back the way he had come.
He was pretty sure she wasn’t already in the prison. He’d have spotted her. So if he loitered around the entrance, he’d intercept her. But what if he was wrong?
Shit. His head was going to explode, and not only because he was six hours late with the antidote. How long did he have?
Everything was falling apart. Not that it had ever been particularly together, but at least before he’d had simple goals: live forever and go boast to his dad that the devil was never going to get him.
Now everything was so much more complicated.
Why couldn’t she have stayed on The Blood Hunter?
Because she cared for him.
He stopped his pacing and banged his head against the wall.
“Fergal?”
He’d been so wrapped up in his thoughts, he hadn’t even seen her. Which just went to prove that she was no damn good for him. All the same, when he looked at her in that ridiculous outfit, a wave of warmth flooded him and a smile tugged at his lips. She was dressed in black from the top of her head down to her feet. The black headdress hid her hair and framed her face, her white skin a stark contrast.
He stalked toward her, meaning to bawl her out for being a stupid, incompetent bitch. But somehow his arms went around her and he dragged her to him and kissed her like he’d never let her go. He lost himself in the taste of her, that musky cold flavor he’d come to love.
“What…?”
His arms dropped from her, and he whirled around, drew his laser pistol, and blasted the priest who stood staring at the two of them, eyes wide. Probably didn’t come across a lot of nuns snogging in the corridors. The man crumpled to the floor. And Fergal came back to himself with a crash.
“Don’t move,” he snarled at Daisy.
She raised an arched brow but very sensibly moved nothing else.
He kicked open the door, which led underground and into the prison, grabbed the priest by the shoulders, and dragged him through. He looked around for somewhere to hide the body and eventually dumped it in an empty cell, where it was hidden by the darkness.
When he turned, Daisy stood directly behind him.
“I said don’t move.”
She flashed him a smile. “And has anything about me suggested I’m good at taking orders?”
Anger washed over him at her words. Irrational anger, but he couldn’t control it. She was going to die here. Because of him. The anger spiraled in his head, all mixed with fear and panic so he couldn’t see straight.
He slammed his fist into the wall, and the pain broke through the other emotions. Taking a deep breath, he turned to look at her.
How had he come to this? He hadn’t considered he had a heart—now he could feel it thudding, racing, threatening to explode out of his chest. He was no good to her like this. He needed to get himself under control, get her out of here.
“What the fuck do you think you are doing?” he growled.
“I came to warn you about—”
“I know about Stefan. I just talked to Tannis.”
Her brows drew together. “You did. So you knew I was here?”
“Why the fuck do you think I was wasting my time hanging around looking for you when I should have been searching for Stefan?”
“Oh.” Her shoulders sagged, and he longed to wrap his arms around them, pull her to him and tell her how it made him feel that she’d come for him. But that sort of crap would not get her out of here alive.
“I don’t want you here. I work alone. I always have and I always will.”
“Hard luck,” she snapped. “I’m here now, so get over it.”
“Not for long. Straighten your dress—you’re leaving.”
A determined expression settled on her features. “Not without you.”
“How about I don’t give you a choice?”
“How about you do? And don’t think you can try that tying me up crap. I won’t fall for it again.”
“You reckon?”
She stood with her hands on her hips, the position totally incongruous in the nun’s outfit. “Yeah, I reckon.”
He shook his head. And decided maybe a little truth would help. “I need to keep focused, and you’re a distraction.”
“I am?” Her expression softened.
“Yes. So, I’ll see you safe back to your shuttle, and afterward, I’ll find Stefan, and we’ll be right after you.”
“What if he doesn’t want to come? What if he really is working with Hatcher?”
“He isn’t.”
“You don’t know that. And if he doesn’t cooperate, you might need some help getting him out of here. Besides, my shuttle is on the roof. If—”
; “On the roof? Are you crazy? I’m betting it will have been found by now. Hardly inconspicuous up there.” He was going to have to take her to his, which was parked a mile away from here and would waste valuable time. But what choice did he have?
“No. It’s safe. I left it in stealth mode—Devlin set it up. It won’t be found unless someone bumps into it. What I was saying was, even if you take me back to my shuttle, we’re going to have to go back through the main building. We might as well look for your friend at the same time.”
What she said made sense, but he wasn’t convinced. It would take longer, and he wanted…needed her away from here. This place was tainted. The scent of incense hung heavy in the air. It reminded him of his childhood, raising all the old feelings of hopelessness and despair. Being with Daisy, here in this place, felt so wrong. As if everything was falling apart, leaving him helpless to save her as he’d been helpless all those years ago.
“And,” she continued, dragging him from his less than happy thoughts, “I did a quick survey of the place on the way down. I’m pretty sure I know where he is. We can go back that way, slip in, pick him up, and be out of here.”
It sounded way too easy.
Daisy studied him surreptitiously. He was close to capitulation, and he wasn’t happy about it. Part of her was pissed off that he was so against her being here, that he didn’t believe she could help him. But beneath that, she knew the real reason he was so shocked to see her here was because he was scared. Absolutely terrified that she was going to get caught.
That could only mean he cared.
Cared for her, and suddenly she was glad she was here, with Fergal. Whatever happened, he cared for her, and that filled her with a warmth and a sense of belonging she’d never experienced in her entire life before.
Six months ago, she’d cheated death, and ever since, the feeling that she should have died, that maybe there was nothing left for her here, had lingered in her mind. While she’d been grateful to Rico, at times it had been so hard she had wondered if it wouldn’t have been better…
Her friends had turned into food, and she knew they feared her. Plus, they all had someone, and she’d felt like an interloper in the only home she had ever had since her parents died. Before that, really. Her parents had been in love, which was nice but had meant that even back then she had felt like an outsider.
For a little while, as part of the crew of The Blood Hunter, she’d experienced a growing sense of belonging, but then everything had changed, her world had fallen apart. She’d sat and watched from the sidelines as everyone had found someone. Or died. Everyone but her. She’d even failed at dying.
She’d seen them fall in love—even the cynical Devlin—and she’d wanted that. Dreamed of finding someone of her own. Then Rico had changed her, and she’d tried to put the hopes and dreams behind her. Who would possibly want her now?
Fergal did.
She could see it in the tense lines of his body, the little frown line between his brows, the way his eyes darted from her to the door and back again. There was real fear in his eyes. Not for himself. For her.
She’d been waiting for him to speak, but now she closed the space between them, reached up, slid her hands around the back of his neck, and pulled him down to her. She kissed him lightly at first, feeling the resistance in the strain of his body away from hers. Something seemed to snap inside him, and he was kissing her back, his mouth slanting over hers, his tongue pushing inside. She wanted to melt into him, but she held herself a little apart. They couldn’t afford to lose it, not here; she just needed a token to give her strength. Finally, his lips pulled free, but his arms came around her and he gathered her close.
For a minute they stood, touching along the lines of their bodies, so she could feel the hammer of his heart through the thick layers of clothing.
He took a deep breath and pushed her away, stood looking down at her, his face free of expression except for a little telltale tic in his cheek just above his mouth. “Let’s go find Stefan,” he said.
Daisy wisely restrained herself from punching the air, but she couldn’t bite back her grin.
Fergal’s eyes narrowed, then he scowled. “Don’t think this means we’re a couple or anything. I still work—”
“Alone,” she finished for him. Once they got out of here was time enough to show him how wrong he was about that. Her blood fizzed in her veins, excitement bubbling inside her.
“And you do what I tell you,” he said. “I say ‘run’ and you run. I say ‘hide’ and you—”
“Hide,” she said. And she would…if she thought it was a good idea.
They could do this. The place was crawling with security, but no one had questioned her on the way down through the building. Obviously, the whole nun thing rendered her just about invisible. Fergal in his security uniform would hopefully be the same.
“I’ll go first,” she said. “I think the nun’s cover is the better one.”
“I don’t agree,” he said. “I go in front.”
She tightened her lips. “But I know the way.”
He looked at her for a second and gave an abrupt nod. “Okay, but the first sign of trouble and you get behind me.”
“Of course,” she said demurely.
Fergal opened the door and peered out into the main corridor. He glanced back, nodded, and stood aside for her to pass. She grasped her wrists together as Alex had shown her and lowered her head in an attempt to look demure.
How hard could demure be?
Fergal walked a couple of steps behind her.
Trouble with acting demure was she couldn’t see where she was going—perhaps she’d save it for if they met someone. The first five minutes they saw no one. She kept her walk slow as befitted a woman of God, though her feet itched to break into a run.
She didn’t like this place. It reeked of something sweet and sickly.
As she turned a corner, a sister approached them. Daisy looked down and kept her eyes firmly on the smooth, shiny floor until the woman passed. Then a group of security officers, but again they didn’t slow. There were so many about, she’d noticed on the way down, far more than expected, which in some ways worked in their favor. With so many new people here, it would be unsurprising if they didn’t recognize everyone, so Fergal could pass unnoticed.
Finally, after two flights of stairs, she came to a halt and peered back at Fergal. Ten feet down the corridor was a set of double doors, white, inlaid with gilt, and a huge cross painted on them. A guard stood at attention in front of the doors.
“This is the entrance to the private residence,” she murmured to Fergal, who had come to a halt behind her. “We need to get in there.”
Fergal pursed his lips. “Walk up and say you’re here to see Hatcher. I’ll be right behind you.
She nodded. Clasped her wrists, looked down, and did her best to glide the last ten feet. “I have a message for High Priest Hatcher,” she said.
“Yes, Sister. I’ll clear it with His Eminence.”
That didn’t sound good. But before he had a chance to speak into his comm unit, Fergal stepped forward. His right arm reached out, except it was no longer an arm but a long silver knife, which sliced into the guard’s throat. The man collapsed as blood erupted from his jugular, filling the air with the sweet intoxicating scent. All of a sudden the hunger, which had been sleeping, roared into life. Daisy swayed toward the body but knew instantly the life was gone and there was no food for her there.
She sniffed the air, searching for another source.
Food—she needed to feed the darkness. It rose, choking her, blinding her to everything but need.
“Daisy!”
The sound of Fergal’s voice pulled her back to herself. Just enough to remember where she was. She licked her lips, turned her head to stare at Fergal. But she could scent the wrongness of his blood. No food there, either.
But there were others close by.
“Daisy,” he said again. This time he grabbed he
r by the shoulders and shook her slightly. “Come on, sweetheart, get a grip. You can do this. Pull it together.”
It wasn’t the words but the fear in his voice that broke through the raging hunger. She swallowed, gritted her teeth, searched inside herself, and pushed the darkness back down. She was breathing hard, but she’d done it. She grinned. She’d done it!
Beside her, Fergal’s face had a gray tinge.
“Sorry,” she said.
He glanced from her to the body that lay crumpled at her feet.
“Shit. I didn’t think. I wanted a quick way to silence him, but I should have…”
“It’s okay. Come on, we need to get the body out of sight before anyone comes. Drag it into that room over there.”
While she waited for Fergal to dispose of the body, she rubbed at the blood that stained the floor until it wasn’t too noticeable.
When he got back, he searched her face.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Really, I am. Now, let’s get through this door.”
“I pulled the codes from the system,” Fergal said. “They’re pretty simple for the internal doors. Stand back.” She stepped away and watched as he punched a code into the door panel.
The doors slid open.
So far, so good. She was starting to believe that they would do this. Maybe they’d find Hatcher as well and they could kill him now, save The Blood Hunter the trouble of coming down here before the attack.
That feeling of excitement bubbled up inside her.
Through the doors, they stepped into luxury, thick carpets under her feet and beautiful furniture lining the walls of the corridor. She stood for a moment, glancing around her. A number of doors led off from the corridor, and she counted them off in her head. According to Alex, the fourth door should lead into the apartment where Stefan Wolfe was staying. She took a step toward it when the door opened and at the same time, the shrill of an alarm shrieked through the building.