Sylvain went right to her side, taking her hand in his and covering it.
Marcus stared at her small form and cursed his cowardice. He should have murdered Asher long ago.
Head wrapped in a bandage, Briar’s face had the flushed rosy hue of someone who’d fallen asleep on the beach.
“She woke up this morning and someone had torn down her blackout curtains,” Sylvain said to no one in particular. “I found myself there. Again.” He breathed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Got there when the cops did.”
“How bad is it?” Hudson asked, moving to the other side of the bed. His gaze lingered on the bandage, and he inhaled. “She’s in a lot of pain, and they’ve given her a big dose of morphine.”
“Bad.”
“Who did it?” Valen asked. The Viking was ready for battle.
“This—” Sylvain pointed to the bandage on her neck and her ear. “This is from the cops and paramedics who dragged her into the sunlight.”
“Show them to me,” Valen ground out.
Marcus didn’t make a sound, but Valen had his complete support. Except—“The cops didn’t take down the curtains.”
Hudson reached for Briar’s face, turning her head to the side. “That’s the worst of the burns. The rest must have happened from brief exposure.”
Knowing his next words would throw their lives into more chaos, Marcus hesitated. He’d just gotten his brothers back. The most he could hope for was they would stand and fight together. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hudson beat him to it. “Asher did this.”
“I recognized his foul stench when I was brought on board,” Marcus quoted.
“Enough with the jokes!” Valen spat. “This is serious.”
“I know,” Marcus replied. Hudson’s focus remained on Briar. Marcus waited for his brother to back him up, but he didn’t say a word. “The only one who stayed longer than me with the sick fuck was Hudson. Didn’t call them the Dark Ages for nothing, right Hud?”
“Shut up, Marcus. Christ.” Hudson sighed and stepped away from the bed.
“Back off,” Sylvain called over his shoulder to Valen. “You’re being paranoid. Asher doesn’t give two shits about us anymore.”
“Of course he does,” Hudson replied, dryly. “We left him. Betrayed him. All he had to do was wait.”
“For what?” Sylvain asked.
Briar groaned, thrashing on the bed before the morphine pushed her back to sleep.
“For us to care,” Marcus answered for Hudson. “We’ve spent two hundred years miserable and alone. Do you think it’s a coincidence he finds us when we come together again?”
“Or show interest in a human,” Valen added.
“Exactly,” Hudson agreed. “He’s been waiting for the opportunity to punish us, and now it’s here.”
“I never understood the fucker,” Sylvain mused. “Lives, what, four thousand years? You think he’d learn to let shit go.”
“He thinks he’s a god, Sylvain.” Hudson clasped his hands behind his back, strode to the door, and leaned against the wall. “He walks in daylight, commands armies of soldiers, and bestows eternal life.” His head dropped and he shook it. “We have to destroy him.”
Sylvain and Valen nodded.
“Are you crazy?” Marcus asked. Surely Hudson couldn’t be serious. Asher was the strongest vampire in existence, and who were they? Two doctors, a Viking, and a moody bastard.
And now they had an even bigger weakness.
“He got the name Asher for a reason Hudson. He’s obliterated as many vampires as he’s created.” Marcus approached Hudson angrily, grabbing his shoulder. “We don’t stand a chance.”
“Speak for yourself,” Valen huffed. “I haven’t fought a battle in a long time, but I remember how to fight.”
“Marcus.” Hudson grasped his hand where Marcus held his shoulder and squeezed once before releasing him. “We don’t have a choice.”
“I’m not leaving,” Sylvain retorted. “I’m not running. He wants a fight? Bring it.”
“Insane,” Marcus threw out. Sylvain flipped him off.
“He’s powerful,” Hudson said, “but he’s always underestimated us. And now we have something he doesn’t.”
“What?” Marcus couldn’t believe his brothers. They were talking about suicide. And murder. Because their maker was going to kill them, and then he’d kill Briar, and maybe the Back Bay of Boston while he was at it, just for shits and giggles.
Hudson glanced toward the still form in the bed, and then gazed at his brothers. “Something to fight for.”
Chapter 15
Briar
Angry voices pulled Briar from her happy, floaty place. She’d been drifting in and out of awareness, heard Sylvain, and went back to sleep. He’d kept his promise not to leave her, and if he was here, then she was safe.
The second time she came around, however, it was to a roomful of arguing. She blinked her eyes against the darkness, squinting to focus on the shadowy forms gathered around her bed.
“Sylvain?” she called, trying to distinguish one giant man from another, but the person who turned was Professor Nors, not Sylvain.
Suddenly, each person crowded closer. Sylvain was there, yes, but also Professor Nors, Marcus, and Valen.
“Professor Nors? Why are you here?”
“Hudson,” he replied, his voice low. When he met her eyes it turned anxious. “Please call me Hudson.”
“We were worried.” And Valen?
“How are you all here?” she asked, and wondered for a second if her injury had resulted in some kind of waking fantasy. Of course, she was more than happy to keep this one going. A room full of beautiful men, concerned about her? Yes, please.
“Sylvain told us,” Professor Nors—no—Hudson—answered.
“And so you all came?”
“Yes,” Valen replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. But it wasn’t to her.
“Why?” she asked again. She was no one to them. A friend, maybe. Nothing more.
Valen glanced at Hudson, and she wondered if they’d actually tell her. That they knew each other was clear. Sylvain was related to Marcus, but besides being colleagues, how were Marcus and Hudson connected? And what about Valen? He was a friend of Sylvain’s, but one breakfast didn’t mean he cared about her.
“Valen, Marcus, and Hudson are my brothers,” Sylvain answered.
“You don’t look anything alike,” she observed and winced. “Sorry. Blame the morphine barely masking the throbbing pain.”
Valen laughed, and Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. “No. We don’t.”
“They were concerned about you.” Sylvain and Hudson stared at each other. “We want to be your friends.”
Friends. Why did the word sound hollow to her? She wanted friends. She needed friends, but it didn’t quite sum up the spark of interest she had in each of them.
So it’s better if we’re friends. I can’t very well date them all. Not that they’d want to date me. I mean—look at me.
Which reminded her…“How bad is it?” She lifted her hand to her face, seeking out the bandages. Her entire head was wrapped, but the gauze bulked near her ear and down her neck. “Third degree?”
Hudson’s face was sad, and he nodded. “Third degree on your neck, second on your earlobe, the rest of your face is not even a first degree burn.”
She barked a laugh and lowered her eyes to the blanket, trying to hide the tears prickling. “At least it’ll match the rest of me.” She grazed her collarbones and shoulders. “Not my face. Bright side? Right?” But her tears spilled over, dropping onto the back of her hands when she clasped them on her lap. “Shoot. I have to call my parents. They’ll want me to come home.” Forget being friends. She couldn’t be their friend from West Virginia. “You guys probably have things to do. Don’t feel like you have to stick around.”
“I want to,” Sylvain replied.
“We can wait,” Marcus agreed. “There’s nothing pressi
ng.” With that, each of them found a place closer to her. Sylvain dragged a chair to the bed, making it even with her head, and propped his feet on the bottom near hers while Marcus and Valen took up spots on either side of her.
“I’m sorry you missed the first day of classes,” Hudson began, kindly. “I’ll talk to the professors. You get your syllabi online?”
Briar nodded, a little shell shocked, and then winced. Her neck did not like that motion. “You don’t need to do that.”
He waved her off. “Please. First day of classes doesn’t matter, anyway. So many people transfer and drop. Most professors don’t worry about who comes to class.”
“But this is grad school,” she argued, and she had a really tight schedule. “Forget it.”
“No.” Hudson pushed off the wall where he’d found a place to lean and stood at the end of the bed. “I’m not going to forget it. You’re not going back to West Virginia. You heal, and you go to class.” He brushed his hands across each other. “Easy.”
He made it sound that way, but Briar’d had enough surgeries to know that nothing was ever that simple. She’d be on antibiotics, the graft site would ache. She’d be covered in bandages. “It might—” she argued. Would any part of her body be left unscarred?
“No arguing.” Hudson held up his hand, and Briar caught Marcus hiding a smile. “I’m well aware of the risk associated with burns and surgeries. Trust me. I’ll help you with this.”
“We all will. We can get your books and your computer. Keep you company,” Valen offered.
“Don’t you have jobs?” she wondered and covered her cheeks. “I’m sorry. That was so rude. Forgive me.”
“No need,” Valen replied and crossed his arms, leaning back. “I don’t have a job. Neither does Sylvain. Marcus and Hudson are the only ones gainfully employed.”
“Oh,” she replied. They must be a wealthy family. She eyeballed each of them, thinking about what little Marcus had told her, and filled in the blanks herself. Probably they were adopted by a rich, childless couple, who wanted to leave their millions to someone instead of their grasping, greedy relatives. Briar liked the sound of her story and decided to stick with it until they told her otherwise.
The other thing she liked the sound of was the way they were banding together to help her. She wasn’t naturally a negative person. If she had been, she wouldn’t have ventured out of West Virginia on her own. She’d have accepted her lot, and stayed in the basement, doing all of her schooling online.
These people genuinely wanted to help her and cared enough, for whatever reason, to encourage her to stay. She could continue to argue, or she could trust them. And she really, really wanted to trust them. “Okay,” she answered. “I need the help, and if you want to give it, then thank you.”
“That was easy.” Valen narrowed his eyes at Sylvain. “Pay attention. Next time I offer something, this is how you should accept it.” He pitched his voice higher, and with his long hair, and tattoos, the effect was ridiculous. “Yes, Valen. Thank you, Valen.”
“Is that supposed to be me?” Briar asked.
Eyes widening, Valen sputtered. “No! It’s supposed—See, Sylvain—”
“I’m teasing,” she said after letting him go on for a second. “I knew it wasn’t me, because you didn’t do an accent.”
Marcus chuckled. Even Hudson, who Briar wasn’t sure she’d ever seen really smile before, laughed. They were interrupted by a quick knock, and a doctor entered.
“Briar. Glad to see you’re awake. I’m Dr. Sutton, the plastic surgeon. Let’s take a look at you.” He stepped forward, but frowned when he saw how crowded the room already was. “Um…”
“We’ll step out,” Sylvain said. “Hudson will stay.”
“I’m a doctor, too, you know,” Marcus grumbled, following them out.
“But you’re a fake doctor,” Sylvain retorted. “Valen explained it to me.”
Briar smiled after them, waiting for the door to close.
“Brothers?” the doctor asked, glancing between Hudson and Briar and then toward the door.
“Friends.” For now, a piece of Briar’s brain added meaningfully.
Chapter 16
Valen
“I want to know everything,” Valen whispered as soon as the door shut. He lowered his voice, assuring no passing humans would hear them. Comments he’d let slide earlier needed to be explained. Marcus’s tension and the lingering scent of their maker when they’d exited the elevator had him preparing for bad news.
“The paramedics didn’t believe her when she said she would burn in the sun.” Sylvain frowned, and his fists clenched. Tonight, Valen would have to stick close to make sure his brother didn’t hunt those humans down. “They caused the worst burn.”
“Asher arrived before you did,” Marcus added.
“Why?” Valen asked, but he shouldn’t have bothered. Anything Asher did was thought out and planned. If he’d appeared, it was because he wanted his sons to know he was watching. “Never mind. He knows about Briar?”
“He was the one who entered her apartment,” Marcus explained. “It was a warning to us.”
Sylvain stalked down the hallway, his form vibrating with anger.
“He wants us back.” Sylvain dragged his hands down his face. “He’s insane. I’ll rip him apart for this. I—”
“How would he know, right from the start, that all of us felt something for Briar?” Valen wondered.
“He’s our maker. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that her scent appeals to him in some way.” Marcus’s voice was so quiet, even Valen, with his vampiric hearing could barely make him out.
“If it did, he’d have drained her,” Sylvain countered.
“True,” Marcus allowed. “We can’t leave her here alone. One of us will need to be here at all times.”
“What if we just left?” Sylvain said, and Valen’s stomach dropped. It was an option, but everything inside him rebelled at the idea. Leaving meant not exploring this nascent connection between them and Briar.
“I’m not ready to leave.”
At least he and Marcus were in agreement, and for some reason, he thought Hudson would be, too.
“I don’t want to leave,” Sylvain said. “No matter how much I might bullshit. I like her, and goddamn, she smells amazing.”
“Don’t bite her,” Valen said without thinking, and Sylvain rounded on him.
“I would never.”
“Well, I almost did yesterday.” Valen remembered the scent of her fresh blood when the waitress nicked her with the knife. “I’m not saying you would, but I am saying, the temptation was so great, I nearly sunk my teeth into her in a restaurant.”
“I almost bit her last night,” Marcus stated, and Sylvain growled. “Not my finest hour, I know. I stopped myself, but it was one of the hardest things I ever did. Just imagining what it would be like…” He trailed off, like he was picturing the event in his mind, and it was Valen’s turn to growl.
“Enough.”
Marcus rubbed his neck. “Sorry.”
“I’m going to find Asher,” Sylvain said, quietly. “And I’m going to tear off his head.”
Unlike popular myth, vampires could be killed, but it was hard. The only real surefire way to do it was with sunlight or massive body damage. Run a vamp over with a Mack truck, and he probably wasn’t getting up, but the best way was beheading, an ax, a sword, or in a pinch, a twist and yank.
Sylvain was insane, though, if he thought he stood a chance against Asher. Valen had spent centuries with him. The vampire was crafty, and no doubt expected a full frontal attack. Going in without a plan, a contingency plan, and a contingency plan to the contingency plan was plain stupid. It would get Sylvain killed, and Valen had just gotten him back.
“No,” Marcus argued. “He’ll kill you.”
“He doesn’t want to kill us, he wants us back under his control,” Sylvain countered. “I may be able to get close enough to—”
“You won’t.” Valen refused to allow it. “He knows us, Sylvain. No matter how much we may have changed, he shaped us into the killers we are. He’ll know exactly what you plan to do before you do it. Attack him head-on, and you’ll only lose yours.”
“So what do we do?” He dragged his hands down his face and leaned against the wall next to Briar’s door. “Let him get away with it? Wait for him to attack again?”
“Yes,” Valen answered, and Sylvain opened his mouth, probably to swear at him, but Valen held up a hand. “For now. Marcus is right; we don’t leave Briar alone. We stay nearby. Stay vigilant. And we plan.”
“Maybe he’ll lose interest.” Marcus snorted. “Ignore me. Somehow I turned into Pollyanna for a second.”
“Hey.” Hudson poked his head out the door. “Doctor is leaving. You can come in.”
Valen was first through, shouldering past Marcus, who gave him a well-placed elbow in the ribs. Worth it.
Briar was sitting up in bed, propped by pillows. The doctor was covering her neck again with bandages, but not before Valen saw the extent of the burn. For a creature who reveled in blood, it horrified him. Catching his look, Briar blanched. “I know.”
“It could have been worse,” the plastic surgeon reminded her, and she nodded.
“Lucky, I have long hair. I can cover it up.”
“How long did it take?” Valen asked. “For this to happen?”
“Seconds,” Sylvain answered for her, his voice choked. “It was seconds.”
“We’re going to operate this afternoon. Quick grafting and removal of the dead skin leads to better outcomes,” the surgeon explained.
“We’ll be here. Make sure you’re okay,” Valen assured her.
But Hudson interrupted him. “They worry about infection, so visitors are discouraged.”
Vampires didn’t get infections. They didn’t get colds, or the flu, or STDs, but the doctor didn’t know that. Valen couldn’t very well argue Briar didn’t need to worry about getting an infection from him.
Briar: A Reverse Harem Romance (Midnight's Crown Book 1) Page 12
