Laura ran through the door, and it closed behind her. The light disappeared, leaving us again in shadows.
I was glad she was safe, but that hope she’d mentioned disappeared right along with her. I didn’t chance looking at Declan again; I kept my attention focused on the vampire who’d just surprised me by doing a kind thing, letting Laura safely escape.
It was a little bit encouraging.
“What about us?” I asked after a long moment of silence passed. “Can we leave, too?”
Lawrence studied the ground as if transfixed by it. “No.”
My stomach twisted. “Why?”
He raised his gaze to mine, and he didn’t look as rational as I’d hoped. “Because what’s in your veins kills my kind. Before, I thought it was for the best—that vampires were monsters and that I was one of the few that deserved to live. Funny how things change.”
When he pulled the silver stake he’d stolen earlier from Declan out of the back of his pants, every muscle in my body clenched with fear—for myself, for Declan.
This vampire wanted blood. He’d already consumed as much as he could drink, so now he just wanted to watch it spill.
“You need to stop this.” Declan’s voice was much more controlled than mine was. “It doesn’t have to end like this.”
“With death?” Lawrence studied the stake he clenched in his hand. “Everything ends with death. I would have done anything for my wife, but I wasn’t given that choice. Victor chose my destiny. This is all his fault.”
Declan looked at me, his expression tense. His eye moved to the door fifty yards away from where we stood. He was giving me a silent order. He wanted me to make a run for it while he held Lawrence back.
“Your wife wouldn’t have wanted this,” I said instead. “She loved you. She accepted you even when you changed. You tried to be human so you could stay together. She wouldn’t want to know you became a cold-blooded murderer. There’s still time to stop this.”
His gaze tracked to me. “I’m not human. The more I kill, the better it feels. The more right it feels.” He looked at Declan. “I’m sure you know how that is.”
Declan shook his head. “I’ve never taken pleasure in what I have to do.”
I’d tried to talk sense into Lawrence, but he wasn’t seeing reason. He’d embraced the monster within him. And that monster was the only one in the general vicinity with a very sharp, very deadly weapon in hand.
Lawrence was silent for a long moment. “I’ve seen you protect this woman. You’d kill for her—anyone who’d threaten her life. Am I right?”
“Would I kill for her?” Declan glared at him. “In a heartbeat.”
Lawrence didn’t look away. “Would you also die for her?”
Declan didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes.”
My breath caught. Despite the fact that he couldn’t make love to me, I knew he put my life before his. I just hadn’t heard it stated so bluntly before. He wasn’t lying. This was the raw, honest truth. He’d kill for me. He’d die for me. In a way, it made things easier, since I felt the same way about him.
Lawrence nodded. “Then you know how I feel.”
“There’s a difference. Your wife is already dead. And nothing you do now will bring her back. The man responsible for her death is gone. You killed him. You had your revenge. It’s over.”
Lawrence was silent for so long I thought Declan had finally gotten through to him, shown him the futility of what he was doing here.
“You think this is over?” he finally said. “It’s not. It’s just begun.”
He turned toward me, and whatever life, whatever hope, I’d seen in those black eyes was gone. This was a man who had nothing to live for. Just rage and pain that he wanted to share.
He came at me fast, and I stumbled back from him, twisting my ankle and falling to the ground. I screamed just as Declan caught his arm, stopping the sharp stake only a few inches from it being a death blow to my heart. Declan’s expression was strained as he fought to pull Lawrence away from me.
“Get out of here now!” Declan snapped over his shoulder at me. “Get to the sunlight!”
If I left, he’d die. I felt the truth of it deep in my gut.
I shook off the fear and panic, knowing I had to do something to help. I scanned my surroundings. There wasn’t much in the warehouse—nothing useful, anyway. Cement floors. Large wooden crates stacked against the wall by the door. The scent of sawdust. That was it. If there was another security camera in here, it was hidden. Not that it would do us any good. Whoever monitored that downstairs was likely dead. We were on our own.
I screamed when the stake arched through the air and stabbed into Declan, piercing his shoulder. Declan let out a sharp snarl of pain.
“First I kill you.” Lawrence pulled out the bloody stake. “Then I kill the woman. I can resist the Nightshade enough to do it. You’re both murderers. You both deserve to die.”
He kicked Declan hard in the leg that had just been broken, and Declan went down hard, crashing to the ground. Blood gushed from the stake wound.
Lawrence turned toward me, moving so fast I didn’t have a chance to take another step back. He grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. I fought against him, slamming my fist into his face, my knee into his groin.
Bleeding and injured, Declan grabbed hold of Lawrence’s ankle. The vampire kicked him hard in the face and Declan landed on his back. Lawrence crouched down over his prone form, his silver stake aimed for Declan’s heart this time.
I launched myself at him. Normally my blood was my weapon. This time it was my entire body. Not quite as deadly, but effective enough as a diversion. I caught his shoulders and pulled him off Declan. We both hit the ground hard. The stake skittered away on the cement floor.
Lawrence snarled and rose up above me. He clamped his hands around my throat and squeezed hard enough to cut off my breath. I reached out for the stake, felt just the edge of it against my fingertips, but it was out of reach.
It was too late, anyway. I was going to die.
TEN
“Jill! No!” Declan yelled.
Black spots appeared before my eyes, and my hands dropped to my sides.
Lawrence’s face blurred. “There’s no other way this can end. The moment you were injected with the Nightshade, you had a death sentence. Victor couldn’t help you, even if he wanted to. I think you already knew that.”
He was right. I’d been grasping hold of sand with every solution I’d chased after, watching as it slipped through my fingers. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t given up yet and accepted my impending death without wasting energy trying to fight it. The Nightshade was a lot like Lawrence. It wasn’t letting go until I finally stopped breathing. Until my heart stopped beating. Until my poisoned black blood went still in my veins.
Something about being with Declan—it was enough to keep me going. He was a warrior, this kind of thing was his life. He didn’t know any different.
The Declan in my dream—the glimpse I’d had of him if he’d never been touched by death and darkness and violence. He was clean and handsome and unscarred.
But I wouldn’t choose him over the Declan I already knew.
It was my last thought before more darkness spread across my vision.
There was a loud bang. Lawrence jerked backward, and his grip on me loosened. I tried to focus enough to see that there was now a spot of red on his chest. He looked up.
“You’re dead,” Lawrence said, then he jerked again as another bullet hit him squarely in the chest.
Someone came into my peripheral vision—it was Jackson, with a gun held in his right hand. He was covered in blood; he was leaving a trail of it as he walked toward us. And there was something wrong with his left arm, which hung awkwardly at his side, as though no longer fully attached to his body.
“Nearly dead isn’t really dead, asshole.” Jackson pulled the trigger again, but the chamber rang empty. He fell to his knees, breathing hard.
L
awrence rose shakily to his feet. “Regular bullets don’t kill vampires. As a hunter, you should know that by now.”
“No, they don’t.” Declan had managed to drag himself up to his feet and come closer, despite the fact that he looked almost as injured as Jackson did. “But this does.”
His hand was curled around the silver stake that had been lying just out of my reach, and he sliced it into Lawrence’s chest.
Lawrence staggered back, staring down at the weapon. When he looked up, there was a peaceful look on his face, replacing the earlier rage. “Thank you.”
And then he was gone, his fiery ashes scattered in a horrible cloud, some drifting down to land on my face. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Declan kneeled down next to me and grabbed for my hand. “No, Jill—please don’t be dead.”
I would have smiled if the expression was currently possible. It sounded exactly like what I’d said to him in the examination room downstairs.
“Not … quite yet,” I managed to say. “But … almost.”
“Vampires,” Jackson muttered. “I fucking hate vampires. Jesus, look at my arm. I seriously need an ambulance.”
Declan looked up at him. “How the hell did you escape? He said you were dead. That four vampires were feeding on you.”
“Never underestimate the power of positive thinking.” Jackson grinned shakily.
“He also told me you sold me out to Dr. Reynolds.” His expression darkened. “I’m sure you’ll deny that, right?”
His grin faded. “I can’t deny it. I did it.”
Declan’s grip on my hand tightened. He was more surprised than I was at the confirmation. “I want to kill you.”
“I’m a lowlife scum sucker. You already knew that. Hell, you were one of only a handful who could tolerate me before this. May as well burn all my bridges while I’m at it.”
“At least you admit it.”
Jackson’s expression was bleak. “That I’m a lying, selfish sack of shit? You got it. Now let’s get into the sunlight before the vamps I didn’t kill decide to climb the rest of those stairs.”
It wasn’t a victory parade as we dragged ourselves to the exit, but it would do. The hot sun felt so good on my face I nearly cried with relief. My throat felt sore, I was woozy from the loss of blood, and it would take a good long while for me to get over the last half hour of horror I’d experienced.
But I was still alive. And so was Declan.
And so was Jackson. Total asshole—no argument there—but he’d saved our lives. We would have died if he hadn’t intervened. I was sure that fact hadn’t escaped Declan’s attention. Maybe we didn’t owe him for that, since he’d gotten us into this in the first place, but it helped to even the scales a little bit.
Jackson looked at the warehouse exterior. “I’ll call for containment. Luckily those vamps aren’t going anywhere in the middle of the day. I’ll get some guys to come in and do a sweep, exterminate the rest of them. See if there are any human survivors. Hell, what a fucking mess.” He patted the pocket of his jeans with his uninjured hand. “Can I borrow your phone? I think mine got eaten.”
Declan threw him his cell phone.
“I’ll just go bleed over there and leave you two alone.” Jackson nodded at the parking lot before heading off in that direction.
“How’s your leg?” I asked, placing my hand on Declan’s knee as we sat side by side on the ground just outside the warehouse door. Laura was nowhere to be seen. She’d taken off running and hadn’t stopped. I hoped she’d be okay and not sign up for any more research programs that required one to be locked in a room deep underground.
He raised an eyebrow. “Healing. How’s your throat?”
“I need ice cream. And a couple Band-Aids.”
His jaw tightened. “I’m sorry everything didn’t work out, Jill.”
I laughed a little at that. It hurt. “Not working out is a bit of an understatement.”
He nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry that in our search for a solution to your problem we were nearly torn apart by bloodthirsty vampires.”
“That’s better.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, tracing my thumb over an old scar that ran across his knuckles. “We’re still alive, so I’d say the day was a success.”
“Your blood—”
I cringed at the memory. “If it had killed you, I’m not really sure what I would have done. I think I might have gone ballistic on Dr. Reynolds long before Lawrence got to him.” I searched his face. “Did the Nightshade do anything to you? Anything bad that you might not recover from?”
He shook his head. “I think its effects are fading.”
“Your human side was enough to counteract the poison.”
“Yeah, but—but it did something else to me. Something that really messed me up.”
“What?”
“It threw off the serum I’m on. It messed up my emotions. Made it fucking hard to think straight.”
I knew I’d seen emotion on his face before. This was the confirmation.
I grimaced. “How do you feel right now?”
“I thought it might be permanent, but I can feel it fading as we speak. I don’t think it was a cure for the permanent serum, just a glitch. Besides, the pain I felt when I was injected—not really something I want to experience again if I can help it.”
I studied his face. “So you’re back to normal?”
“Almost.” His brows drew together. “You said something earlier—about our experiment last night.”
This wasn’t a good time to talk about that. “Declan—”
“No, hear me out, Jill. You said that it wasn’t unpleasant for you to let me … do that.”
The memory of his mouth on me and his hands skimming my body played in my mind. “Not unpleasant is also a vast understatement for what I felt last night.”
“Yeah, but you also said you didn’t want me to touch you or kiss you again if I wasn’t feeling something in return.”
I swallowed. “That’s right.”
“That means I better do this now while I still have a window of opportunity.”
“What?”
He took my face between his hands and kissed me. This wasn’t a one-sided kiss, one that lacked true feeling on Declan’s part. Even with the salty taste of sweat and the faint copper tang of blood, this was incredible, amazing. Passionate. Real. The feel of his mouth against mine trumped any suit-wearing, perfect Declan in any stupid dream. A shiver of pleasure coursed through me.
When he finally pulled away, my cheeks were flushed and my entire body tingled. I stared at him with surprise, and he rewarded me with a grin.
“Was that better?” he asked.
I smiled back at him. “It was … not bad.”
His grin widened. “It was better than not bad.”
“Practice makes perfect.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” The smile faded. “Shit, I can feel it. The effects of my serum … it’s coming back fast. I’m sorry, Jill.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be sorry.”
I kissed him again, quickly, and already I felt it wasn’t the same as a moment ago. I’d have to keep that one passionate, incredible kiss firmly in my memory. If it had happened once, it could damn well happen again.
Laura was right about hope. Even after everything that had happened, I was surprised how much I still had in reserve.
Declan stood up and held out his hand to help me up. “Let’s get out of here.”
I felt shaky, my body ached, and my throat was tender. I’d lost a whole lot of blood. I hadn’t found a solution to my Nightshade problem. The scientist who claimed he could help me was dead, an act of vengeance for the sins of his past. There was a nest of vampires beneath our feet that had an extermination to look forward to rather than a juicy, human jugular to snack on.
I’d nearly died, but I was still alive. I had a chance to heal and to figure out what my next step was going to be.
And surprisingl
y enough, I felt rather hopeful about that.
One amazing kiss from Declan had made me see that nothing was permanent—there were always loopholes … or glitches. If his so-called permanent serum could be brushed aside once, it could be again. And if he could be healed, then so could I.
It was far from perfect, but I was okay with that. I already knew perfection was highly overrated.
Turn the page for a preview
of Jill and Declan’s first thrilling adventure
by Michelle Rowen …
Nightshade
Now available in paperback from Berkley Sensation!
Life as I knew it ended at half past eleven on a Tuesday morning.
There were currently thirty minutes left.
“What’s your poison?” I asked my friend and coworker Stacy on my way out of the office on a coffee break.
She looked up at me from a spreadsheet on her computer screen, her eyes practically crossed from crunching numbers all morning. “You’re a serious lifesaver, Jill, you know that?”
“Well aware.” I grinned at her, then shifted my purse to my other shoulder and took the five-dollar-bill she thrust at me.
“I’ll take a latte, extra foam. And one of those white chocolate chunk cookies. My stomach’s growling happily just thinking about it.”
Stacy didn’t normally go for the cookie action. “No diet today?”
“Fuck diets.”
“Can I quote you?”
She laughed. “I’ll have it printed on a T-shirt. Hey, Steve! Jill’s headed to the coffee shop. You want anything?”
I groaned inwardly. I hadn’t wanted to make a big production out of it, since I hated making change. Unlike Stacy, math was not my friend.
By the time I finally made it out of the office I had a yellow sticky note clenched in my fist scrawled with four different coffee orders.
Twenty minutes left.
The line-up at Starbucks was, as usual, ridiculous. I waited. I ordered. I waited some more. I juggled my wallet and my purse along with the bag of pastries and take-out tray of steaming caffeine and finally left the shop, passing an electronics store on my way back. It had a bunch of televisions in the window set to CNN. Some plane crash in Europe was blazing. No survivors. I shivered, despite the heat of the day, and continued walking.
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