Mission_Improper

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Mission_Improper Page 41

by Bec McMaster


  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 way

  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 tha
t 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.

  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."

  "Don't call me that," she whispered, suddenly

  furious. "Annabelle is dead!"

  And then he looked at her, just looked, and

  she knew why he was really here. There would be

  no chance to talk her way out of this. The Master

  had been her judge and jury, and now Obsidian

  was here as his executioner. "You treacherous—"

  A hand clapped over her mouth and Zero sank

  her teeth into the flesh there. Then heat exploded

  behind her eyes, and her head rang.

  "I'm sorry. This is not something I wish to

  do," he whispered, withdrawing a small syringe

  from his inner pocket as she struggled to blink

  through the dizziness of his blow. "But you have

  done this yourself. You were warned, damn you.

  Warned to keep yourself under control."

  She tugged her face aside from his controlling

  hand, just for a second. "No! No," she whispered,

  kicking and scrambling to break free. "You bloody

  little lapdog! Did you kiss his feet when he

  demanded this of you? Do you think that he won't

  d-do the same... to you—"

  The needle slid into her throat and icy cold

  spilled into her veins. Zero jerked. "No! N-no,

/>   please...." She was suddenly frightened. She didn't

  want this to end. She didn't want to be alone. Not

  again.

  "I'm sorry," Obsidian said. "But there is no

  other way." He moved to step back from her.

  "D-don't... leave... me," she managed to

  gurgle as pain lit her nerves on fire. "Please...."

  Her eyes rolled up in her head as her feet and body

  began to jerk uncontrollably.

  A moment passed, as if he hesitated. Then a

  pair of strong arms went around her, and for the

  first time in a long time, Annabelle felt like she

  wasn't alone. She jerked as fire flooded through

  her chest, narrowing in on her heart.

  "Shush," Obsidian whispered, pressing a kiss

  to her temple and ruffling her hair. "It will be over

  soon. And I won't leave you until it's done. The

  same way that I wouldn't leave you back then. I'm

  sorry."

  It lasted minutes. It felt like hours. And

  through it all, Obsidian rocked her, even when she

  began to weep tears of blood.

  And then the fire exploded in her chest.

  GEMMA PAUSED in the doorway to her room,

  feeling a breeze slip over her skin. Just that, but it

  was enough for her to draw the small pistol at her

  side.

  "Hullo?" she called, pressing her back to the

  wall and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the

  darkness.

  The last time she'd left her bedchamber, the

  window had been closed.

  Now the sash was lifted and her curtains

  fluttered in the slight breeze. Gemma swept the

  room, but there was nobody there.

  "Maybe I left it open after all," she murmured,

  then frowned. She was fairly certain she hadn't.

  Instinct drove her back out into the hallway.

  Slipping quietly through the house, Gemma made

  her rounds. She was being silly. There was nothing

  here. Just—

  The door to Zero's cell was cracked open an

  inch. All of the hairs on Gemma's arms lifted, and

  a chill ran down her spine. Maybe she wasn't

  imagining things, after all? She sidled closer, her

  gaze raking the darkness, and her heart suddenly

  thundering to a crescendo. And then she eased

  open the cell door with a steady hand and stepped

  inside, her pistol swinging to track each shadow.

  Only one shadow remained in the room. Zero,

  slumped silently in the chair and chains where

  they'd put her.

  "Are you awake?" Gemma whispered as she

  crossed the room, though she was fairly certain that

  she knew the answer to that.

  Zero didn't move. No breath lifted her chest.

 

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