by Lynne, Donya
Brak broke the connection and woke from his trance as he staggered backward, suddenly too weak to stand. He had done it. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he had saved a life instead of taken one. The poison had been powerful, but no match for his strength, which now faded from the magnitude of what he'd done. Sickness roared into his stomach. Just in time, he spied a waste can, fell to his knees, leaned over it, and vomited.
Within seconds, Cynthia was beside him, stroking her hand up and down his back. "You did it. You saved her, Brak."
"What the hell?" someone said behind him.
The others in the room burst into action, a mass of movement and disbelief.
"How did you…? Who are you, man?" A male with long, blond hair knelt beside him.
All Brak could do was turn away and throw up again.
The room was a cacophony of noise. What he had done sent everyone into exclamations of celebration and relief until the female stopped coughing, caught her breath, and asked in a raw voice, "Where's Malek?"
Brak could have heard a pin drop as the din abruptly quieted.
"Oh fuck," the guy with the blond hair said.
Oh no. This wasn't good.
* * *
Micah wiped his eyes for about the hundredth time, but his fucking tears wouldn't stop coming. He couldn't do this if he was crying. He needed clear vision. He didn't want to risk missing, which would destroy him. One shot. He had only one shot.
To his credit, Malek was holding it together, although his restraint was clearly taking a toll. That insane voice in his head was back, and Malek was having one hell of a conversation with it. None of the jabbering made any sense, but he got the impression that was the whole point. Malek was simply trying to bide time, and blathering a load of nonsense with his inner demon seemed to be his way of doing that.
Micah checked the clip again, took a deep breath, and slapped it into his Sig. He never thought he would have to kill one of his own, let alone the one guy he had thought of as a brother for almost as long as he had been alive. But life had a strange way of playing out in unexpected ways, and now all Micah could do was honor his promise not to let Malek suffer anymore.
He chambered a bullet and took several deep, steadying breaths as the Sig hung at his side.
Malek stood in front of him. His head moved back and forth as he took on both sides of the conversation with himself, totally lost. Game over. Checked out.
"I love you, man." Micah lifted the gun and pointed it at Malek's head.
Malek stilled and met his gaze. Clarity shone back at him for the first time in five minutes. Was that relief he saw in his friend's eyes? "I love you, Micah. Thank you. Take care of Sam."
Micah almost lost it all over again at Malek's words, and he nodded tightly, blinking back tears again. "I will." He swallowed his sorrow and looked at the ceiling, willing the tears to stay away. "God, forgive me."
Just as his finger began to depress the trigger, the door to the weapons center burst open.
"STOP!" Severin barged inside.
Images Micah couldn't reconcile with reality blasted him from Sev's thoughts, and he snapped the gun back and pulled his finger off the trigger. "What the hell?" He couldn't believe what he was seeing from Sev's mind. Trace's brother had…somehow he had brought Gina back to life. Was this for real?
Sev stepped aside as Trevor carried Gina into the room. She was still weak, and her coloring was still pale, but mother of all miracles, she was alive.
How the hell…? He and Brak definitely needed a little one-on-one. There was more to Trace's brother than he first realized.
"Malek?" Gina's voice sounded frail, but her spirit was strong.
Malek turned toward her voice and frowned. "Gina?"
Tears fell down her cheeks. "Trevor, put me down. Please." She struggled to get out of Trevor's arms and dropped her feet to the floor with a wince.
Her knee was swollen and she looked like she might fall over, but she managed to stay upright and limp across the room with Trevor's help.
"Am I dead?" Malek held out his arms. "Are we together again?"
Gina shook her head as Trevor helped her into Malek's arms. "I'm not dead, tesoro."
Malek's brow furrowed. "Yes you are. I was there. You stopped breathing."
Micah saw inside Malek's mind. He thought he was in the afterlife or hallucinating. Micah set down his Sig and went to Malek's side. "No, Malek. You're both alive."
"But…the Reaper's Blade?" Malek struggled to grasp what had happened as he looked between him and Gina. "You died in my arms. I was holding you. I felt you leave me."
"It's a miracle," Micah said as he backed away to join Sev and Trevor. "I'll explain later…after I get a few answers of my own." He really needed to get that face time with Brak. "Fellas," he said as he clapped Sev and Trev on the shoulders, "let's leave them alone."
Malek still looked dazed as Micah and the others turned for the door, but just as he was about to grab the door's handle, the dam burst. Malek's splintered mind fused back together with such force, Micah felt it like a slap on the back, and he glanced over his shoulder at the most beautiful sight he'd seen since mating Sam. Malek had Gina in his arms, his face buried against her neck.
"You're alive? You're really alive?" he said, as if he still couldn't believe it.
Gina laughed through her tears as he took them both to their knees and hugged her to him. "I'm alive, baby. I'm really alive."
Micah had seen a lot of strange shit in his long life, but he had never seen someone come back from the dead. Until now.
When he turned around, Sev and Trevor were grinning from ear to ear.
"Some stranger came in and saved her," Sev said. "He was all Jesus-looking. Long, brown hair, white shirt, loose pants, sandals. I have no idea what he did, but whoever he is, he saved Gina's life."
Micah ushered them out and closed the door. "That would be Brak," Micah said.
"Brak? Who the hell is Brak?" Sev fell into step beside him.
Micah sighed and hit Sev with a hard glance. "Brak would be Trace's brother, Sev."
Sev nearly tripped over his own feet. "You're shitting me!"
"Nope."
"Well, fuck me."
"You said it."
Goddamn. Trace had a brother. A goddamn brother. And apparently the guy was just as powerful as Trace, but in his own way.
How 'bout that?
* * *
Malek pressed his lips to Gina's forehead. "I thought you were gone. I thought I'd lost you, piccolina."
"I know, but you didn't. I'm here." She breathed against his Adam's apple as he held her close and rocked her.
The warmth of her body seeped into his. She was warm. Not cold as she had been ten minutes ago. Life surged through her again, and with each second, he felt it grow stronger. She was reanimating right before his eyes, as he held her, as he breathed in the vanilla scent of her hair. "How?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. One second I was walking toward a bright light, and the next I was back in my body, gasping for air as a tall, strange male stood over me. I don't know who he is, but he brought me back. He saved me. Somehow, he saved me."
Malek pulled back and met her wistful, confused gaze. He didn't know who the mysterious male was or where he'd come from, but it didn't matter. "Whoever he is, I'm indebted to him. He gave you back to me. He saved my life as much as yours."
She blinked and nodded. Her eyes glistened with tears of happiness. "Maybe Lady Luck is finally smiling on us."
Lady Luck. Until now, that bitch had all but abandoned them both. "Maybe she feels we've been through enough."
"I hope so, because I'm done with her shit."
He chuckled and pulled Gina against him. "I love you. God, I love you."
She was alive and safe, and they were together.
Gina gently pushed away and searched his eyes. "What were you doing, Malek? What was going on in here when Trevor brought me in? Micah had a gun in
his hand, and it looked like…I thought he was about to…"
Malek looked down at her lovely, elegant hands and threaded his fingers between hers. "I couldn't live without you, piccolina."
There was a pause, and then, "Was Micah going to kill you?" She spoke softly.
With a nod, he met her gaze again. "Yes. I didn't want to live without you, so I asked him to…" He shook his head and fought back tears. "I couldn't live without you, Gina. Do you understand? I only just found you. You made me whole again, and I—"
She cut him off with a kiss. Her soft lips pressed against his mouth and flooded him with life. What was once cold now warmed, and what had been broken now fused back together. All from the tender brush of her lips on his.
When she pulled away, she arched one eyebrow. "Don't you ever do anything as stupid as that ever again, baby. Or I'll kill you myself. Is that clear?"
He licked her taste from his lips and smiled as he caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Even after dying and coming back to life, she was full of fire. Gina was the polar opposite of Carmen, but he couldn't imagine himself with any other. His biology had chosen well. "Crystal clear." He kissed her again then spoke against her lips. "And don't you ever stop bossing me around."
"Now you're just asking for trouble, tesoro." Her eyes twinkled.
"I expect nothing less from you, piccolina." He trailed his fingertips down her neck.
"Oh? Why's that?"
He buried his face against the side of her neck, inhaled, held her precious scent on his tongue, and then exhaled. "Because you've been nothing but trouble since I met you, and, oh baby, I've loved every second of it."
She giggled, and the sound was like butterflies flittering through silver chimes. "Except for that whole suffering thing, right? I'm sure you didn't enjoy that."
"Well, except for that." He smiled against her skin. "Otherwise, I wouldn't trade a single moment."
Her fingers combed through his hair, and she kissed his temple. "I love you," she whispered.
If only he could crawl inside her skin, because he couldn't hold her close enough. "I love you, too."
For a long moment, nothing was said, and then Gina whispered. "Take me home, Malek. Take me home and be my mate for the rest of my life."
Home. The word held new meaning, because she was his home. He dwelled within her now, and she dwelled within him. No matter what happened from here on out, nothing would change that.
"For the rest of mine," he said and picked her up.
Once he found a ride out of there, he planned on starting the rest of his life with her, in their home, in their bed, and in every way imaginable.
Now and forever.
CHAPTER 30
Micah made his way back to the room where Gina had died only minutes ago—and then was brought back to life—to find Trace's brother lying on the bed. His pallor looked nothing like it had when he greeted him up front. The guy now looked grey and transparent. Someone had taken off his shirt, and his blood vessels showed through his skin like red and blue lines on a roadmap.
"What's wrong with him?" he asked as the door swung shut behind him and Sev. Most of the others had left the room and stood in the hall, but Lakota had stayed behind. He held a waste can at the side of the bed.
The woman who came with him, Cynthia, glanced up as Brak rolled to his side. Lakota quickly stepped forward with the trash can, and Brak vomited into it. It looked like he had been vomiting a lot.
"Whatever he pulled from the woman made him very ill," Cynthia said.
Shit. No kidding. "Is he going to be okay?" Micah stepped to the side of the bed. If only he could do something to help. However Brak had done it, he had saved lives tonight. Gina's, Malek's…and a little piece of everyone on Micah's team, who now stood outside in the hall and had looked as helpless as he felt.
Cynthia stroked her fingers over Brak's brow as he rolled to his back and shivered. "Ssshhh, sweetie. It's okay. I'm here." She met Micah's gaze. "This is normal. He always gets sick when he returns to his body. But he's especially ill this time. What was wrong with the woman?"
"She was cut by the Reaper's Blade."
Cynthia frowned. Micah could see from her thoughts that she had no idea what the Reaper's Blade was. Micah wasn't surprised since she was human.
"The Reaper's Blade is deadly to vampires," Micah said. "Once it breaks skin, no matter how small the cut, death is inevitable."
Cynthia nodded and turned her gaze back toward Brak, whose teeth chattered. "He's burning up."
Micah grabbed a towel from a nearby shelf, tore it in half, and shoved the pieces toward Sev. "Wet these." Then he glanced at Lakota, who still looked unnerved from earlier. "Kota, go tell the nurse to bring me a bowl of water and ice."
Lakota set down the trash can and disappeared out the door, and Sev returned with the towels. "I don't understand. If they have this…Reaper's Blade…can't they just use it and kill us all?" he said softly.
Poor Sev. The guy really had missed out on a lot.
Micah took the towels and pressed them to Brak's forehead and neck, then looked over his shoulder at Severin. "The blade can only be used once every twelve lunar cycles. The magic requires the moon to regenerate its power or some shit, so the Dacians reserve the blade to be used only for the most notorious of those they've marked for death. So the legends say."
He turned back toward Brak and dabbed the towel on his face. This was Trace's twin. His best friend's flesh and blood. He was going to tend to Brak as he would Trace and make sure he survived whatever was happening to him.
"I see," Sev said. "So, now that they've used the blade, the playing field is level. Is that what you're saying?"
Micah liked the tone in Sev's voice that said the lightbulb was turning on.
"Exactly." With a nod, he picked up on the thoughts of the others in the hall. They seemed to have come to the same conclusion Sev had and were ready to hunt those fuckers down. If they were going to strike, the time was now, because the Reaper's Blade was about as ineffective against them as a cat scratch…and would be for the next twelve full moons.
Brak moaned and brought Micah's attention back down. "He'll get better, right?" He looked at Cynthia.
She shrugged. "I don't know. I've never seen him so ill." Her voice was filled with worry. "This is really bad."
"How did he do that, anyway?" Sev asked. "How did he heal Gina like that?"
"It's his gift," Cynthia said with a sad smile as she caressed his cheek. "He was made to heal." Bitterness crept into her voice. "But those who enslaved him before used him for evil. They made him kill." She pulled Brak's hand to her lips as tears welled in her eyes. "But you're free now, sweetie. You're free. So you have to get better, you hear me? You have to enjoy your freedom and not be sick. Your brother needs you."
Brak moaned again softly and blinked his eyes open to meet Micah's gaze. "Trace. Is he okay? Is he safe?" His voice croaked quietly.
Micah nodded. "Yes. He's safe."
"But…prison…?"
Micah shook his head and rubbed his thumb up and down Brak's pulse point to calm him. "He's okay. He helped a friend, but had to break the law to do so. He was sentenced to a short time in custody, but he's due out in a few days. You'll see him then."
Brak shivered but grinned. "You're a good friend…you and Sam."
How the hell did Brak know about Sam? "Yes we are." Trace practically lived with him and Sam now. The three of them had a special friendship that grew stronger every day, and Sam yearned for Trace to be released from the king's dungeon as much as Micah did. They needed him as much as Trace needed them.
Micah realized Brak was reaching for his hand and clasped it as he pressed the compress against Brak's forehead.
"Thank you for taking care of my brother," Brak said. He sounded a bit stronger.
"The honor's mine." Micah met Brak's weak grin with one of his own. "Are you going to be okay?"
The color was beginning to return to Bra
k's skin, but Micah could feel how weak he still was.
Brak nodded once. "Just need to rest."
Cynthia sighed with relief, smiled, and patted Brak's other hand. "He's always so tired after he goes out of body like that, but I was hoping it wouldn't happen now that he doesn't have to use his power to kill, anymore."
Kill? Cynthia had mentioned something about that earlier. What did she mean? Brak's mind was too much of a mess right now for him to get anything that made sense, and all he could see in Cynthia's thoughts was Brak lying on a bed like he was hypnotized, and then awaking to get sick like he was now, only not as bad. Micah really wanted that one-on-one with Brak, but it would have to wait until he was well. He wouldn't put Brak through the twenty questions until he had recovered.
Brak rolled his head on the pillow to look at her. "It depends on what I do, Cyn. This was bad. The female was full of poison. If I had merely healed a broken bone, I would simply feel nauseous and need a nap."
"You do too much," she said, caressing his face.
He closed his eyes and sighed. "It's why I was made. It's what I was born to do."
Micah glanced at the face that looked so much like Trace's and frowned. If Brak had been made—born—to heal, what had Trace been born to do?
Given the extent of Trace's power, he had a feeling he already knew the answer to that question. And the emotional pain Trace had to bear from his mixed-blood gift was the equivalent to the illness Brak suffered from his.
He squeezed Brak's hand, and then let go. "You stay here and rest, Brak. I'll make housing arrangements for you." AKM had available homes and apartments all over the city, some waiting for tenants, others being used for various purposes. He needed to find Malek and Gina a new place to live now that his current residence was compromised, so while he was at it, he'd line something up for Brak and Cynthia, too. He didn't see that they were mates, but clearly they were important to one another and needed to stay together.
He stood and turned toward Cynthia. "I'll have them bring in another bed for you so you can stay with him. And I'll make sure someone brings you extra blankets and clean clothes…and cleans up the mess." He nodded toward the waste can.
