Chapter 19

Thursday, December 30, 7:30 p.m.


Fairview General Hospital


“Silver bullets?” Talia breathed into the phone.

She could hear the tension in Lore’s voice. “The bullet was a safety slug filled with silver pellets. The penetration wasn’t deep, but a lot of metal got into his bloodstream.”

Talia knew very well what that meant, because she’d used those rounds herself. Organ damage, and then death. Oh, God, Perry. It was a bad way to go, but at least it would be relatively fast. “Meet me at the front door of the hospital in half an hour.”

She hung up the phone before Lore could argue. Talia had been mostly okay with staying at the condo while Lore went to the university, but now she couldn’t sit around any longer. No one used those slugs but professional monster-killers. They were hard to get, expensive, custom-made, and this was her area of expertise.

Among the Hunters, she had been one of the very best shots. She knew where to get specialized ammunition, who made it in which back room, and what their maker’s marks looked like. Safety slugs mushroomed on impact, so conventional ballistics was tricky, but there might be other clues as to where it came from. With a stroke of luck, she might even figure out who pulled the trigger. Perry had found the images that proved she had come home too late to kill Michelle. She owed him whatever she could offer.

A sixth sense told her to hurry. Fortunately, she’d already solved the problem of weapons. A search earlier that evening had revealed the locker where Lore kept his toys. There was a lock box protected by one of those zappy spells, but she found a knife in a sheath she could strap to her calf. It had probably been meant for Lore’s forearm, but whatever.

In a determined flurry, she bundled into her coat and ran out into the snow. A few of the main buses were running, and there was no way she could be identified under a hood, scarf, mitts, and layers of sweaters. Everyone out on the streets looked like a bundle of knitting projects. She doubted anyone could even tell she was Undead, much less pick her out of a lineup.

The bus took longer than she expected, but it successfully dropped her at the edge of the hospital grounds. The parking lot was largely empty, but plenty of people had slipped, skidded, and snow shoveled their way into Emergency. The desk at the entrance was mobbed, making it easy to simply walk past. The nurses were too busy to care about one young woman wandering by, craning her neck to find one tall hellhound.

The gray tiled floor was covered in wet footprints. Talia could see the occupants had filled every bench. She caught the stink of wet wool and coats that had gone too long without dry cleaning. Chatter filled the place, mostly folks swapping bad weather stories.

After the quiet of Lore’s bedroom, Talia was overwhelmed by the noise. Plus, she was hungry. She’d refused the icky refrigerated blood and now she was regretting it. The ambient smell of the hospital wasn’t helping. Beneath all that antiseptic was . . . Oh, don’t go there.

The sight of Lore leaning against the wall, one leg bent and arms crossed, banished all thoughts of hospital food. The memory of his taste brought saliva to her mouth. She walked up to him, untying the long striped scarf she’d swiped from his drawer.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.” Now that she was close, she could see the strain around his eyes.

“How is he?”

“The doctors put him on hemodialysis to clean as much of the toxin out of his blood as they can. They say it’s the only thing that works on werewolves.”

“What’s the prognosis?”

“They don’t know yet, but at least they’ve got plenty of blood donors. I think all of Pack Silvertail showed up.”

They reached the elevators and Lore punched the button. “Perry was lucky to get a bed. Not all hospitals are equipped to treat shifters.”

Talia understood. A lot of people still believed that werebeasts would automatically heal if they changed form. That worked with small injuries, but few could summon enough energy to change after trauma and massive blood loss.

The elevator arrived, disgorging an orderly pushing an empty gurney. They got in and the doors closed with a shudder. With glacial slowness, it started going up. They were alone, but she could smell the hundreds of warm bodies that had come and gone throughout the day, some cleaner than others.

Talia glanced at Lore. A deep frown line creased his brow. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. Startled, he glanced down, then squeezed back.

“I’m glad you came,” he said.

“It’s good not to be alone when things go bad.”

He couldn’t quite manage a smile, but the worry line relaxed.

The elevator doors opened and they exited on the third floor.

“I hate hospitals,” Talia grumbled. Health care administrators seemed to search the world over to find the most stomach-turning shades of paint. This ward had walls the hue of squished caterpillar guts.

She trailed Lore down the corridor, unbuttoning her coat. They’d rounded the corner, heading to the area marked NONHUMAN PATIENTS when Lore slowed, putting a hand on her arm. Up ahead she could see a cluster of people hanging around the doorway. Many of them looked related—lean and compact, with brown, wavy hair. They moved like they were on springs, filled with restless energy. A few paced back and forth, the others doing their best to stare down the nurse. Wolves.

There were a few more who weren’t shifters—including a tall, dark-haired human. Handsome in a square-jawed, no-nonsense way that belonged to action movies and cop shows. Baines.

“Oh!” She pulled aside, hugging a pillar.

Lore stopped dead, moving so that he blocked the hallway. “He doesn’t know you’re innocent.”

And the guy with the evidence she needed lay in a hospital bed with poison in his blood. Slowly, Talia turned her back to the crowd. All her nerves were on alert, all the colors and sounds of the hospital suddenly too sharp. “Why don’t you go check on Perry? I’ll meet you in the cafeteria in an hour.”

“Baines is looking for me, too.”

“Should we go and come back later?”

Lore looked unhappy, but shrugged. “Baines doesn’t have anything on me. He just wants to talk. I’ll get rid of him.”

“Then go check on Perry. I’ll stay out of sight. And look, I know a thing or two about specialty ammunition. I want to get a look at what’s left of the slug.”

“That’s evidence. Baines is going to want it.”

Talia bit her lip, wondering if she was saying too much. “Whatever he can do, I’m better. Trust me on this.”

Worry furrowed his forehead again. “I’ll see what I can do. Be careful.”

“I will. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Kissing her lightly, he squeezed her hand and left her there. Talia stuck her hand in her pocket, wishing she could keep the warmth of him a moment longer.

Wow. Weren’t they in couple mode?

There’s no way it can last. There’s too many reasons why it won’t work, starting with the fact that you’re a monster and a monster-killer. How’s that going to play with his pack?

Talia hunched against her inner voice, wishing it would just shut up for ten seconds. She liked what was going on with Lore. The fact that he had protected her made her feel worth protecting and, dammit, she meant to enjoy that for as long as she could.

She went back to the elevator, taking it to the main level. It wasn’t hard to find the cafeteria from there. The greasy smell might as well have been a flashing sign.

Talia suspected the place was designed with the hospital’s future revenues in mind. It was the typical mix of cardiac-arresting doughnuts and fried food, dirty tables, and lighting so bad no one would notice that she was a vampire. About the only things she could ingest there were the cashier or herb tea. She was contemplating her options when she saw Errata at one of the tables by the wall, scribbling in a notebook.

She was about to walk over when she caught sight of someone else out of the corner of her eye. What the hell?

Talia turned, frowning in the direction she thought she’d seen her brother. That’s crazy. Max is thousands of miles away. Shaking herself, she blinked the image away. It was unsettling. She’d been thinking about him and had seen his name on the bulletin board that morning. Obviously, she was missing him a lot.

Talia headed over and sat down opposite Errata. The werecougar looked up. Her eyes were red from crying.

“Hi,” Talia said softly. “Lore’s gone upstairs. I’m waiting for him here.”

Errata closed the notebook and took a swallow of coffee. She looked like a woman trying to compose herself. “Why Perry? Everybody loves him.”

Talia felt a pang for her. There was never only one victim. “He had evidence that he was going to show Lore. Maybe somebody knew about it.” By somebody, she meant Belenos.

Errata gave her a look that said she understood what Talia was getting at. “But how?”

“Or what? Do you know what he found?”

Errata shook her head. “I’ve been at CSUP all day. We’re short-staffed because of holidays. I was going to meet him late tonight. Then Lore called me at the station.”

Once again, Talia thought she saw Max walk by in the distance. This time she got a better look, and it made her sit bolt upright. “Excuse me.” She stood up, feeling suddenly light-headed. “I just saw someone I know.”

“Is everything okay? You don’t look happy about it.”

Without answering, Talia strode quickly between the tables, heading for the corridor where she thought she’d seen him pass. It had been a glimpse, his head and shoulders above the half wall that separated the eatery from the main hallway, but his profile had been clear. Talia knew Max’s face as well as her own.

What the blazes was he doing in Fairview?

A chill ran over her body as she put puzzle pieces together. There weren’t a lot of options. Max did only one thing: He hunted, and he used silver safety slugs. Perry had survived, and professionals came back to finish the job if they didn’t succeed the first time. As long as her brother was here, Perry was in danger.

No, no, I must be having a brain cramp. This can’t be real. She reached the hallway and looked around, dreading and wishing for a glimpse of Max’s dark head.

She nearly missed him in the hospital crowd. He was turning into the service stairway that led down to the basement. The tension in Talia’s shoulders cranked up a notch. What’s down there? She ran to follow, wishing she had more than a knife to defend herself.

Max was her brother, but he would likely kill her on sight. Stupidly, that didn’t stop her from longing to cry out after him. She wanted to see recognition in his eyes one more time.

Slipping through the door, she stood on the landing for a moment, listening to the sound of footfalls descending. Why was he going down there? There was no underground parking at the hospital. That was all outdoors.

Silently, she followed, scanning for some clue as to what drew Max. Weren’t morgues usually in the basement? Creepy.

She reached the bottom of the stairs, putting her hand on the knob of the fire door that separated the landing from whatever lay beyond. Nerves urged her to hurry, to try to catch up, but experience told her to play it cool. She listened a moment, and was rewarded with the shush-thump, shush-thump of a heartbeat. He’d heard someone coming, and was waiting on the other side of the door. Talia debated, her hand hovering above the door handle. Abandon the chase, or find out what her brother might know? That meant confronting him.

The quiet was broken by the sound of a round being chambered. He knew he was being followed.

This was a dance she’d done before, but it usually ended in a death. She’d have to be good, very good, to make this end well.

She grabbed the door handle and pushed it open with as much force as she could muster. In the same gesture, she tucked and rolled, making herself as tiny a target as possible. Max fired at where her head had been moments before.

Regaining her feet, she grabbed him from behind and slammed his face into the painted concrete of the wall. He grunted with surprise, dropping the semiautomatic. Talia yanked his head back, using his hair as a handle.

“Talia!” His voice held pure horror.

“Sh!”

Max was silent.

She waited, forcing away the chorus in her heart that was cheering, It’s Max! It’s him! Were they safe? After the gunshots, she expected a sudden rush of security guards, or morgue workers. Somebody.

Nobody came. For whatever reason—budget cuts? shift change? the weather?—the basement was deserted. A shielding spell? There were such things, to keep passersby from noticing a crime. If someone had used one, she wouldn’t necessarily know.

“Talia.” Her name came out in a croak.

That yearned-for look of recognition was in his eyes. She breathed in the familiar scent of him, childhood coming back in a rush of remembered laughter, fights, shared meals, and shared secrets. He was solid proof that she’d had a life and people who loved her.

But that life hadn’t been kind to him. Once, dark-haired Maxim Rostov would have given Joe a run for his money in the hot-guy department. The few years since she’d seen Max had been hard. He was only thirty, but he looked haggard, his dark eyes eating up the rest of his face. In his own way, he’d suffered as much as she had. Poor Max.

“You!” he snarled. “What are you doing here?”

She flinched at the rage in his voice. “I ran away. I had to get away from Belenos. This was on the other side of the continent.”

He was immobilized, her fingers laced through his hair, her other hand pressing him into the wall. She was stronger than him now, and she could smell the fear coming off him in waves. Tears welled in her eyes. She was doing this to him. His little sister. “If I let you go, are you going to try to kill me?”

She hoped he would say no, and wished even harder that she could believe him. “I still love you. You’re still my brother.”

“You bit me!”

It had been one of the king’s embellishments of cruelty. He’d taken both brother and sister, but Turned only one. Then he served up the other for dessert. Barely days old, burning bright with hunger, she’d had no self-control.

Guilt seared her like acid. “I’m so sorry.”

Max bucked, struggling to get away. “Bullshit.”

“It’s true. I am. At least Belenos let you live.”

“He made me a venom junkie.”

That shocked her. Then Talia understood what had happened. Her brother hadn’t been for killing. The vampire king had other suffering planned for him. Dozens of bites. Dozens of doses of addictive venom. Degradation of the chief Hunter’s son had been the objective.

She hadn’t known. “Oh, Max.”

“I kicked it.” Slowly, he turned his head to fix her with furious eyes. The movement must have cost him a clump of hair. “I beat what he did to me, which is more than I can say for you.”

His disgust hit her with the force of a blow. She felt her lips growing cold with emotional shock. “He made me dead. That’s a little harder to cure.”

Suddenly Max blinked hard, confusion crumpling his face. “I know. You’re one of them now.”

“I’m still Talia.”

He began to silently sob, his anger finally giving way to grief.

“Oh, Max.” She bent close, meaning to kiss his cheek, but he reared away, nearly breaking free.

“Don’t bite me! For God’s sake don’t bite me!”

It was an addict’s cry not to send him back to that corrosive hell.

“Don’t bite me, Talia, please!”

She hadn’t meant to, but he shouldn’t have put the idea in her head. Talia felt her mouth going dry, parched as if it were stuffed with dust and ashes. His struggling didn’t help. Fear, struggles, heat, and the scent of blood and sweat added up to only one thing: prey.

Suddenly, Talia was shaking with hunger. She was starving. It had been days since she’d had a proper meal—too long for someone as newly Turned as she was. All she could see was fragile skin, all she could smell was his panic. Older vampires would make a game of seduction. She was too raw for anything but selfish urgency.

She began to salivate.

When she struck, skin would break with a springy resistance that reminded her of grapes. As her fangs breached flesh, there would be the first gush of hot comfort, and the blessed release of the venom. Her teeth ached with it, a pressure that built the hungrier she became. Now it would discharge, flowing from her into his veins and sending him into bliss. Oh, yes, she would give him a rush of pleasure.

In just a moment.

Unless she could hang on. She had to hang on. It was her brother. That would be weird and wrong. The first time, it had been a cruel trick. This time, she was in the driver’s seat. She could resist.

She hoped.

Max fought back, egging on the predator inside her. Talia couldn’t see his face and didn’t want to. The intimacy of the moment wasn’t something she wanted to remember. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she struggled against the urge to take him. She was panting, trying to find enough air to relieve the ache that racked her whole body.

Back away, back away, back away.

She could almost accept the blood-drinking thing. What she really hated was the loss of control.

A clattering of heels broke her hunger trance. The door burst open and Errata nearly smashed into them. Talia looked up, hoping she wasn’t sticking out her fangs like some B-movie Draculette.

The werecougar was staring at her openmouthed. “What are you doing?”

Duh, isn’t it obvious? Sucking on a victim just outside the local morgue. Saves on body fluid cleanup. How’s your night been going?

“Hairballs, something told me I should check on you. Talia, talk to me.” Errata took a slow step forward. “Who is this guy?”

Talia swallowed hard before finding her voice. It came out strained and hoarse. “My brother.”

Errata grabbed Max’s arm, pulling him out of Talia’s clutches. “Then don’t eat him. That would make Thanksgiving really awkward.”

Talia felt an irrational urge to yank him back, but reason was starting to claw its way through the feeding frenzy. Max flattened himself against the wall, glaring at Talia. Errata had her phone out, calling somebody for help.

Talia bent and picked up the semiautomatic, her fingers shaking with need denied. She couldn’t bring herself to look Max in the face.

So much for the movie-of-the-week family reunion.

Errata put away her phone. She looked from Talia to Max curiously, taking in his nondescript black clothes, the gun, and his glare. Her look said she had him pegged as very, very bad news. “What’s going on? What’s he doing here?”

“Is this your friend, Tal?” An unpleasant leer came over Max’s face. “I always wanted to meet a girl who was all pussy.”

His head whipped to the side, smacking against the wall. Errata’s hand had moved faster than Talia’s eyes could follow.

“Next time, the claws are out,” Errata hissed. “I don’t care whose brother you are.”

“Don’t!” Talia automatically stepped forward to defend him.

The malevolence in his eyes froze her where she stood. What’s happened to him? He was never this cruel.

But who was she kidding? Hunters killed monsters. Would they sweat a little rudeness? But he’s not like that. I know him.

Errata gave her a look that was close to pity.

The door slammed open again; this time Baines burst through. He flashed a badge. “Derek Baines, Supernatural Crimes Division. Stay right where you are.”

Lore arrived a moment later, his expression baleful. He looked at Errata. “The detective was standing right next to me when you called.”

When he caught sight of Talia, his expression said his worst fears had been confirmed. Detective Baines didn’t realize it, but he’d just found the elusive Talia Rostova. She slid the gun into her pocket and out of sight.

Baines took a step toward Max, but he looked at Errata. “There was an altercation?”

With her stomach turning hard and heavy, Talia began a slow fade down the hallway one step at a time. Until her name was cleared, she was in trouble if the police figured out who she was. If she was on that frickin’ registry, they’d hand her straight back to Belenos.

But this was Max. Was she going to abandon him? Was she going to sell him out as the gunman who’d shot Perry?

But he’s my brother.

The worst they had on him was nearly being eaten by his vampire sister. Max would be okay. Talia had his gun—they wouldn’t even pick him up on a weapons charge.

He shot Perry. He tried to murder someone.

But that was what Hunters did. That was the family business.

Perry had helped her.

But it’s Max.

Talia quickened her pace, panting from the tug-ofwar inside her. She’d put two doorways between herself and the cop. The harsh overhead lighting showed the lines between each floor tile, making the hallway into a game board of squares. Talia felt like a pawn sneaking out of the path of the rooks and knights.

Max shrugged. “Look around. Obviously you’ve got no reason to hold me.”

“Give me a minute,” Baines said dryly. “You’re already starting to annoy me.”

“Hey, I’m the victim. These chicks are psycho.” He pointed at Errata. “This one hit me and that one bit me.”

For the first time, Baines looked directly at Talia. She saw recognition light in his eyes.

Shit!

“Wait,” said Lore, a considering tone in his voice. “I know this guy.”

Max took that moment to shove past Errata and bolt in Talia’s direction.

Lore stabbed his finger at the running figure. “He’s the gunman from the university!”

“What?” Errata exclaimed, a world of trouble in the one word.

Max moved fast, pumping arms and legs in a desperate rush to freedom. He covered the distance to Talia in a few strides. Instinctively, she grabbed for his arm. She felt her sharp nails dig into the cloth of his jacket, tearing through to the skin beneath, but he kept running, shaking her off as if she were a pesky dog.

Talia stumbled, bouncing off the wall, but lunged after him. “Max! Come back!”

Her boots slid on the polished floor, struggling for a grip. She heard Lore calling her name, but her eyes fixed on the back of Max’s jacket.

She couldn’t leave everything unresolved. He couldn’t get away.

With a thunder of echoing footfalls, the others were coming after them. Baines was human-slow and would be left at the back of the pack. Talia, on the other hand, was a vampire with a head start. There was no way Max could outrun her. She dodged after him as he took a right turn. Signs hung from the ceiling, announcing what lay down each corridor, but they flashed by before she could read them. Smells told her they were places with plenty of chemicals and equipment. These weren’t the places where healing was done.

Max took a sudden left turn. Talia was only a few paces behind him now, and she was getting angry. “Stop!” she snarled.

He had to. At the end of the short hallway was a dead end, a blank wall with no door, no poster, nothing. But he didn’t slow.

“Stop!” Talia cried again, now afraid he was simply going to brain himself like a bug on a windshield.

Max roared something she couldn’t understand and jumped through the wall, his body melting into the painted concrete and disappearing. Talia’s brain wrenched at the impossible, nonsensical sight. A blast of outrage singed her. Jumping through walls was cheating.

Just like Max to pull a fast one on his little sister.

So Talia did the only thing that made sense. She jumped after him.

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