by Lili Zander
“Needless to say, I didn’t exactly follow instructions.” She holds out a data stick. “The formulations to both drugs.”
Ragnar takes it from her and hands it to Dr. Karling.
“Why are you here?” Saber speaks for the first time, his voice harsh. “What’s the angle, Marya? Or are you trying to tell us that you’re doing this for the good of the Empire?” He laughs mockingly. “You’ve suddenly, after all these years, got the urge to do the right thing?”
“I don’t give a fuck about the good of the Empire. I couldn’t care less if Astrid sits on the throne or not.” Her voice softens to a dangerous whisper. “Harek shouldn’t have attacked Ghani.”
Ragnar leans forward. “If I understand you correctly,” he says, his voice pleasant and neutral, giving away nothing of his thoughts. “This is the vaccine.”
She nods.
“How does it work?”
“You inject it into your bloodstream. It’s effective after an hour.”
Dr. Karling looks up. “Just one dose?”
“Yes. Harek wanted it to be easy.”
Ragnar steeples his fingers. “Tell me why I should trust you.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Do you have another choice? Astrid has four days left. If she decides not to yield, Harek Levitan will move to the next stage of his plan.”
“Which is what?” Saber’s voice is as sharp as a dagger.
“He’ll make the existence of the virus public. He’ll distribute testers. And, finally, he’ll spread the word that the Empress has a cure, but she’s not planning on releasing it.”
I clamp my hand to my mouth. “He’ll cause a riot.”
“That’s Plan B. The rioting mobs will kill the Empress, and Harek will swoop in with the vaccine, and the throngs of grateful citizens will put him on the throne.”
I go cold.
“Harek is inherently cautious,” she continues. “Plan B is not his preferred scenario. It’s riskier. Mobs are unpredictable. Astrid is popular. He won’t put it into motion unless he has to.” She looks around. “But make no mistake. He will do it if he has to. Harek Levitan is determined to rule the Empire of Shayde.”
“What do you want in return? Money? Estates? A seat on the Council?”
She lifts her chin and stares at Ragnar. “I want you to stop him. The price of my help is Harek Levitan’s death.”
“How very altruistic of you,” Saber grinds out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t trust her. I don’t trust the timing. This is another of Levitan’s tricks.”
Dr. Karling clears his throat. “With all due respect, Prince Ragnar, I agree with Colonel Hafsson. We’ll need to analyze this vaccine thoroughly before we can test it on anyone.”
I don’t know if we have time. It’s not just that the deadline is imminent. Vincent Kevis blew himself up. As soon as Levitan finds out that his first plan is falling apart, he’ll move to Plan B.
And, from what Marya just said, Plan B is pretty fucking awful.
“No,” Ragnar says decisively. “We've run out of time.” He looks at Marya. “You have my word. I will die before I let Harek Levitan sit on the throne.”
She hands him the vaccine. Ragnar turns to the scientist. “Dr. Karling, if you could prepare a syringe?”
He’s not going to test it on himself, is he?
“No,” Mazer snaps. “Absolutely not. Astrid needs you. Give it to me.”
Ragnar looks up. “She needs you more, Maze.”
He’s insane. He’s absolutely insane. Saber’s right: we have no reason to trust Marya. She’s been Levitan’s pet assassin for more than a decade.
“The trust in this room is staggering,” Marya says caustically. “I’ll try not to take it personally.”
The vampires ignore her. “Give it to me.” Saber stretches his hand out, his eyes steady, his voice serious. “You’re a prince of the realm, Ragnar. The heir to the throne. It’s about fucking time you learned to delegate.”
Nero jumps in, as does Zeke. They start to argue. Ragnar watches them for a while. A smile plays about his lips but doesn’t reach his eyes. Finally, he raises his hand, and people stop talking. “I’m taking the vaccine,” he repeats. “Too many people have died on my account. You’ve all done enough.”
The assassin heaves a sigh. “This is very melodramatic.”
Dr. Karling wordlessly hands Ragnar a syringe filled with a pale-yellow liquid. He looks straight at me. In his eyes, I see the naked truth. Saber, Nero, and Zeke are more than his friends. They’re part of my bô. It would devastate me if something were to happen to them. It would wreck me, and Ragnar knows it, and he’s sparing me the pain. He winks. “If I die a horrible death,” he says cheerfully, “Feel free to take your anger out on Marya.”
Then he plunges the needle into his vein.
Fear pulls me under. I can’t breathe.
Please don’t die, Ragnar.
Nothing happens. We wait an hour and a half, just to be safe. Then we watch, with our hearts in our throats, as Ragnar downs a shot glass filled with contaminated blood. Specifically, my contaminated blood. This is my worst nightmare coming to life.
He doesn’t die.
The vaccine works.
I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding. My knees are weak with relief, and I slump on a chair. Saber turns to his ex. “Thank you for helping us.”
She considers him for a long moment and then inclines her head. “You’re welcome.”
We’re not in the clear yet. “There’s still eighty-thousand infected humans.” I know what I have to do. “Hand me the drug meant for humans.”
“No,” Saber says flatly. “Absolutely not. I’m done with people experimenting on Raven. Try the drug on Marya, Dr. Karling.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Marya snaps. “Stop being so bloody paranoid, Saber. The doctor can’t test the drug on me; I’ve already taken it. My blood is clean. I’ll prove it. You have a tester, don’t you? Use it on me.”
She’s not lying. The tester comes back negative. Saber still shakes his head, an unyielding look on his face. “There are eighty-thousand infected people. Pick someone else to go first.”
I shake my head. “I know you’re worried,” I say gently. “I’d be freaking out if I were you. But the urgency hasn't gone away. Any moment now, Levitan could go public with the virus. Any moment now, he could whip up enough fear that vampires panic and mobilize. If they do, every infected human—no, every single human, infected or not—is at risk.”
“I agree with everything you’ve said.” Ragnar holds my gaze in his. “But there’s no need to volunteer. We’ll find someone else; we have eighty thousand test subjects.”
I stare at him. “There’s a chance it could be dangerous. You know it; I know it. Could you point to a random person and inject them with something that might kill them?”
“I’ve already done that,” Ragnar says flatly. “I’m happy to do it again.”
“You did it to vampire guards who deserved it. Could you do it to someone who was infected through no fault of their own?”
“Yes,” he says simply. “I could. I would do that and more to keep you safe.”
To keep me safe. Ragnar’s infuriating, and he’s arrogant, and he’s entirely too self-assured. And I’ve fallen in love with him.
“It’s not your choice to make, Prince Ragnar.”
I turn to face Saber, Nero, and Zeke. My vampires. “If you were in my place, what would you do?”
Their expressions tell me the answer. I hold out my hand, and Dr. Karling slides the needle into my arm.
My blood boils. Intense agony fills my veins. My vision goes blurry. I bend over double, gasping with pain. I feel like I’m on fire. Every inch of skin is burning, blistering, ablaze.
“What the fuck have you done?” Saber slams Marya against the wall, his hand at her throat. He’s choking off her air supply.
The assassin doesn’t fight back. “Drug effects,” she gasps. “Tempor
ary.”
“If you’re lying, I will snap your neck like a twig,” Saber growls.
Waves of pain wash over me. I crouch on the ground and retch violently. My vampires hold me, stroke my back, and whisper soft words of encouragement to me.
Eventually, it passes. I get to my feet, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. “Next time,” I tell Marya coolly. “Tell me what the fucking side-effects are.”
“You didn’t ask.”
I give her a withering glance. It would be so satisfying to punch her in the face. So very, very, satisfying. “Next time, take some initiative and tell me anyway. How long before I’m in the clear?”
“Twenty-four hours.”
In twenty-four hours, my vampires will be able to drink from me. We’ll be formally bonded. I’ve waited for this day for so long, and now, it’s finally within reach.
Ragnar turns to Ivar Karling and barks out orders. “Find a replacement lab. Mass-produce both the vaccine for vampires, and the antiviral treatment for humans. Work quickly, Dr. Karling. We have the upper hand now, but Harek Levitan is not yet defeated. And bitter experience tells me that until we put a knife through his black heart, we should never count him out.”
28
Ragnar
I step out of the shower, towel myself dry, and pull on a pair of pants. I walk past the locked door of my bedroom, where, a few short days ago, I’d found Nasrim Dimeh’s dead body, and step into my living area.
I should rest. Wander around the too-large apartment and open a door at random and fall into the nearest bed. Weariness tugs at me, but I can’t seem to summon up the energy to move.
It’s been one hell of a day.
Astrid has been briefed. We’ve worked out a plan. We’ve clawed the Empire back from the brink of catastrophe, and so what if my fingers are bloody and my heart is bruised? That’s just the way it is.
Once upon a time, after a day like today, I would have headed to the Lower Deeps. I would have climbed into the ring, and I would have fought. I would have taken out my frustration on my opponent, and when I was done, I would have found a willing woman and fucked her.
I like women. I like seducing them, satisfying them, making them shudder under me. But I’ve never brought a woman to this apartment. It's not the kind of thing I do. It would muddy the waters. Every woman I’ve slept with, human or vampire, knows precisely what I have to offer. I’m not promising commitment. I’m not vowing to stick around. All I have to give is one night.
For almost twenty years, that's been my philosophy, and I’ve stuck to it, and I’ve never regretted it.
Those days are in the past. My present is haunted by a woman with red-brown hair and sapphire-blue eyes. The only woman that I’ve ever truly wanted. The only woman I’ve needed.
My front door slides open, and Raven’s there. She's wearing a red wisp of a dress, and she walks toward me.
“Before you ask,” she says. “Yes. I asked Zeke to hack into your apartment controls and let me in.”
She enters the room and slides the door shut behind her. Her hair is braided and piled up in a complicated knot. As I watch, she starts unpinning it.
A wave of desire threatens to drown me.
“What are you doing?”
Her braids fall like a waterfall down her back. She starts to undo the strands, and I stare at her.
I don't want this. Not like this. This isn’t about desire. This is about Raven realizing that I wasn't about to sacrifice Saber, Nero, or Zeke. That I would die before I caused her a moment of pain.
I don't want her to come to my bed out of gratitude. If things were that simple, I would've had her back on Merin.
I force a mocking note into my voice. “Is this your way of saying thanks? As much as I appreciate the thought, it’s not necessary. Leave.”
She ignores me and continues to unbraid her hair. The red-brown strands fall in soft, silky curtains around her face, and I picture reaching forward, crushing her into my arms, and running my fingers through her hair. I picture winding her locks around my hand and jerking her to me, and in my imagination, she moans with raw need.
Women have taken off their clothes in front of me a thousand times. It's lost its capacity to affect me. I like and enjoy sex, but there's a place deep inside that nobody reaches.
She frees the last braid and shakes her hair free, and need punches that hidden place in my heart.
“Did you hear me?”
She raises her eyes to my face. “I heard you just fine.” Her fingers start to work on the buttons that hold her dress together. “I've been studying with Kaleb. According to him, the appropriate thank-you gift in a situation like this is a jeweled chalice filled with blood. The greater the sense of gratitude, the more precious the chalice.” She rolls her eyes. “Vampires have some weird customs. Me? I personally prefer flowers and chocolate.”
“I'll keep that in mind. Now get out of here.”
She stops what she's doing. A smile curves her lips. “You're a vampire, Prince Ragnar. If you really want me to leave, there’s a very simple way of doing it. I haven't yet learned to fight compulsion. Compel me. Order me out of your apartment.”
I keep silent, and she laughs softly. “I thought so.”
I grasp at the tatters of my restraint. “What do Saber, Nero, and Zeke have to say about this?”
Her sapphire blue eyes dance with laughter. “Saber said, and I quote: Tell Ragnar that if he ever pulls that Prince-of-the-Realm shit with me again, I will punch him in the face. Nero said something about two cats circling each other, and Zeke hacked into your apartment to let me in.” She looks straight at me. “They know I'm here. They didn’t try to stop me.”
“Nothing's changed. I have nothing to offer you except sex.”
“Hopefully, it’s good sex.” An impish grin tugs at her lips. “According to the gossip, you never sleep with the same woman twice.” She gives me a wickedly taunting look from under her eyelashes. “Maybe I should be concerned you can’t satisfy me.”
I growl deep in my throat, and her smile widens. She resumes work on the buttons. The creamy swell of her breasts come into view, and lust boils, hot and heavy, in my blood.
“Last chance.” The warning tears out of me. “I won’t ask again. If you get naked, you’re not going anywhere until dawn.”
“If that’s a threat, it’s not a particularly good one. Aren’t you supposed to be able to radiate menace at will?” The last of the buttons come undone, and her dress falls to the floor. She stands in front of me, entirely naked. Her body is lean, a legacy of both the re-education camps and the mines on Boarus 4. Too lean. Her breasts are round and high, her nipples mouth-wateringly pert. Dark curls dust the vee between her legs.
I forget to breathe. My gaze lingers over her body, and I drink her in, each and every perfect inch of her. If she takes a step toward me, just one step, then I’m lost forever.
“Like what you see?” Her eyes fall to my groin. My erection tents my pants, and when she sees my reaction, the tip of her tongue brushes her lower lip.
She’ll be the death of me. “You already know the answer to that question, little bird.”
She takes a step into the room. A step closer to me. My control shatters. I erase the distance between us and swing her into my arms. I march down a corridor and kick the first door open, and I throw her on the bed.
I could kill her with one hand tied behind my back. She laughs up at me, unafraid. I climb on the mattress. She parts her legs slightly and looks at me with hot, lust-filled eyes.
“You say stop,” I tell her, “and things end.”
“Take off your clothes, Ragnar.”
My mouth crashes down on hers. She wraps her arms around me and kisses me back. Her lips part for me, letting me in. I want to tease her. I want to take my time, but the ragged desperation that runs through me is too much. I devour her, feast on her sweetness, and swallow her muffled little whimpers of pleasure.
I trail kisses
over her shoulders and breathe in the scent of her skin. I lick my tongue over the vein pulsing in her neck. Need clamps me between its giant fists and squeezes, and it takes all the control I possess to keep my fangs from extending and sinking into her skin.
I’m the only vampire on Starra that can drink her blood. Except I don’t have the right to do that. She’s not a part of my bô.
These are the choices I’ve made. I must live with them.
I slide down her body and close my hand over her full, magnificent breast. I suck a swollen nipple between my teeth, and she hisses and arches toward me, her eyes hazy with desire. “So good,” she whispers. “Do that again.”
Lavish attention to her perfect breasts and her erect, swollen nipples? Not a problem. She could ask me for the sun and the moon and the stars, and I would give them to her.
The scent of her arousal fills the air. She writhes on the bed, her head thrown back, her neck exposed to me. I have to taste her. Need licks me with its flaming tongue and sets me ablaze.
My hands part her legs and hold her open. I lick her, and she jerks and inhales sharply. She tastes perfect. There’s no other word for it. Everything about Raven is perfect. My cock aches for her, hard with desire. “Want me to stop?”
“If I want you to stop, I’ll tell you.”
I laugh and lower myself back between her legs. I run my fingertips through her folds, and she sucks in a breath and pushes her hips into my mouth. I lick and suck, my tongue flicking her erect, swollen clit.
Her fingers grip my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin.
My fingers push into her wet heat. Her muscles clench around me. She whimpers, sweet and soft, and I increase the pressure on her clit. I want her to fall apart because of me. I want to own her pleasure.
Her breathing gets heavier. She’s absolutely soaked. “Ragnar,” she moans, the sound ragged and raw. Then she breaks, biting her lip, twisting, flailing, shuddering as her climax rips her apart.
I tear off my clothes. She looks at my erection, and her eyes widen. “Want to stop?” I ask her again. This is a bad idea. One of us should be sensible, but I’m way past that stage. The only way I can stop now is if she asks.
