Once Bitten, Twice Burned

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Vaughn was choking on his own blood. Sabine stared down at him, terrified. His eyes were wild. So scared and desperate.

And she remembered sitting on the couch with him and Rhett. Watching scary movies. Eating popcorn.

Swimming in the lake.

Laughing while they roasted marshmallows.

How in the hell had things come to be this way?

“You’re going to be okay,” she told him, pressing her fingers against his neck. His blood soaked her hand. The blood wouldn’t stop gushing out. “Hang on, Vaughn, okay? Just hang on.”

They shouldn’t be enemies. They should just be people. Friends.

And her friend was dying right in front of her.

“Four . . . two . . .”

She leaned toward him. “What is it? I can’t understand.”

“One . . . nine . . .”

He was telling her numbers? She shook her head. “Save your strength, okay?” Sabine glanced over her shoulder. Ryder and the other vampire—what was wrong with him? Why did he look that way?—were running toward each other. Both had their claws up. They were yelling and they hit in a thud of bodies. Fists pounded. Claws flew.

The other vampire was going for Ryder’s neck. His claws cut into Ryder’s skin.

“No!” Sabine screamed.

Ryder lunged up, his claws slicing back at his attacker.

Her mouth hung open in shock, and then she had to look away.

Ryder had . . . he’d . . . just taken the vampire’s head off.

Her eyes squeezed shut. That sound, that slush that she’d heard right before the vampire’s head toppled back . . .

Vaughn had stilled beneath her hands. Her eyes opened and she stared back at him. His face had gone slack. “Vaughn?” She shook him.

He felt cold to her. He shouldn’t be that cold, not so soon. His body should still be warm. Not so icy. Not yet. Not ever.

“Vaughn!” Footsteps thudded behind her. She didn’t look over her shoulder. She knew those footsteps had to be Ryder’s.

He’d taken the other vampire’s head. With one slice of his claws. But she couldn’t think about that. Not then.

Vaughn wasn’t moving. The blood was thick on the ground beneath him.

Ryder’s hands wrapped around her. He lifted her against him. “The humans are coming.”

She felt numb. Vaughn was—

Moving?

His mouth was opening wide, and he started to groan. A low, pain-filled sound.

Relief rushed through her. Vaughn was alive!

His hands flew into the air, and—and claws were sprouting from his fingertips. Long, thick, black claws.

His mouth was open so wide because his teeth were growing, elongating into sharp points. Every. Single. Tooth.

Ryder jerked her back, keeping his tight hold on her. “Son of a bitch.”

Vaughn rolled over. Slowly rose to his hands and knees as his back bowed. “Help . . . me!”

Sabine tried to reach for him. Ryder just wrapped his arms tighter around her. Hauled her farther back.

Then, over Vaughn’s growing screams and the desperate pounding of her own heart, Sabine heard footsteps. Her head swung to the left. To the right. Men in black cargo pants and bulletproof vests were surrounding them. And leading those men, she recognized Keith Adams, Vaughn’s father.

“What the hell did you do to my son?” Keith demanded. He had a small gun in his hands. A gun currently aimed at Sabine’s chest.

She couldn’t help but wonder if, like her father’s weapon, that gun was loaded with wooden bullets, too.

“We didn’t do anything.” Ryder wasn’t letting her go. His body vibrated with fury. “You can thank Genesis for this one. They’re the ones who wanted to build bigger, stronger vampires.”

Keith staggered back. His gaze went to the ground. To the fallen vampire and his disconnected head. The vamp’s mouth was wide open, and you could see his mouthful of fangs.

Keith’s horrified gaze flew back to Vaughn. “No, son, no!”

But there was no denying what was happening to Vaughn. He was screaming and crying and his body kept twisting as the brutal change swept over him.

Sabine held herself still in Ryder’s arms.

“I’m going to kill them all,” Ryder whispered the words in her ear, barely seeming to breathe them.

She counted seven men. All with their eyes on Vaughn, not her or Ryder. All appearing frozen with horror.

One of their own was changing right before their eyes.

“I’ll kill them all,” Ryder said again, “and you stay behind me. It’ll be fast, I promise. Just close your eyes, and you don’t even have to see what I do to them.”

She had no doubt that he could kill all of those humans in just moments. She knew how fast he could move. How strong he was. He could take their heads easily or cut their throats.

“No,” Sabine whispered. She didn’t want more blood on her hands. She already had enough coating her fingers.

“I’m not going back into a cage.” Anger now, rage, roughening Ryder’s words. “Not even for you, love.”

Then he pushed her behind him.

He sprang at Keith.

Only . . .

Keith was firing his weapon. Aiming not for Ryder, but pointing his gun at Vaughn.

Vaughn . . . who was on his feet. Chest heaving. Body shaking.

Vaughn . . . who was rushing toward Sabine, snarling and opening his mouth to take a bite.

The bullet slammed into his chest. Another blasted into Vaughn. A third.

Vaughn fell to the ground.

Keith looked up.

Too late, Keith. Too late.

Because Ryder was at his side. Ryder had his claws at Keith’s throat.

“Tell them to drop their weapons,” Ryder’s voice was deadly calm.

Keith didn’t speak, but he gave a fast gesture with his hand. All of the humans immediately tossed their weapons to the ground.

“Good,” Ryder praised and offered a hard smile to the man. “For that, you can die quickly.”

“Ryder!” Sabine hurried toward him. “Don’t!”

Keith’s eyes, grief-stricken, lost, met hers. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

No, she was sure that she and Ryder were the ones who were supposed to be on the ground.

“I-I wanted to help you,” Keith muttered. His throat was bleeding. Ryder’s claws were sinking into the skin. “When I found out what Genesis was really doing . . .” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and Ryder’s claws sank deeper into him. “Since then . . . I-I’ve been trying to get you out . . . trying to save the others.”

It was too late for saving them.

“My son . . . my own son.” Tears slipped down his cheeks.

Sabine realized all of Keith’s guards had frozen. No one was moving. No one seemed to know what to do.

She took a deep breath and closed the distance between her and Keith. “Were those wooden bullets?” she asked him. Wooden bullets on vampire prey.

Keith nodded.

“He’s not dead,” Ryder said, sounding almost bored. “Down, but not dead. Guess you couldn’t go straight for the heart with your own son, huh? And you couldn’t order your men to take that heart shot, either.”

Her gaze cut to Ryder. “Stop.”

He lifted his brows.

“Take your claws away from his throat,” she demanded. It was all too damn much. Rage was pumping through her own body. Hot. Blistering. Vaughn . . . turned? Keith shooting his own son? Her dad betraying her.

Too much.

Ryder’s eyes widened. Then he let go of Keith. Instead of backing away, Ryder grabbed for her. Figured. When had the vamp ever backed away?

His hands wrapped around her arms. “Sabine?” He shook her once, lightly. He didn’t sound so bored then. He sounded worried.

She took another deep breath and could have almost sworn that she tasted ash on her tongue.

“Sabine . . .” His voice had dropped, become an intimate caress.

She met his stare. Tried to pull more air into lungs that suddenly felt starved for oxygen.

“Breathe,” he whispered to her. “Everything is going to be all right. You know I’ll keep you safe.”

She didn’t feel like she really knew anything anymore. But she sucked in more deep breaths. Tried to calm a heartbeat that raced too fast. Her eyes stayed on his.

Finally, finally, the air stopped tasting like ash on her tongue.

She realized that Ryder was staring at her with a deep, intense gaze.

“Is your control back?” Ryder asked softly.

Back? When had she lost it?

But she gave a nod. His arms wrapped around her shoulders. She realized that the humans were just standing there, waiting.

For what?

Keith’s head hung down, his chin almost touching his chest. Blood dripped onto his shirt. “Vaughn . . . he and I . . . we both wanted to make things right.”

What was right anymore? Sabine wasn’t sure she knew.

Keith’s head lifted. “He was trying to protect Rhett. We knew Genesis had a hit on him. Once we realized what they were really doing, we put a plant inside the facility. We were trying to help.”

Ryder stared dispassionately at him. “You want to help? Get the hell out of our way and stay out of our way.” His arm was a warm weight over her shoulders. “Because if I see you again, I will kill you.” A vow.

She gazed at Keith and shook her head. “How were you going to help me?”

“There’s another doctor.” He licked his lips, glanced over at Vaughn’s still body, and drew in a ragged breath. “She’s not like Wyatt. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone. She wants to help the supernaturals.”

Right. Like she hadn’t heard that one before. “Come on,” Sabine said to Ryder. “Let’s go.”

“She’s not experimenting on anyone!” Keith’s voice broke. “She’s just fixing the mistakes that Wyatt made.”

Like she’d trust another human in a lab coat.

Her gaze darted to Keith. Before they left, she had to know one thing. “Where’s my brother?”

But he shook his head. “I-I don’t know. Vaughn was sent to secure him. To get him to a safe location before . . .”

Before someone else could put a bullet in his head?

“Find out,” Ryder told the man. “Find out, and you send the location to me at Bran’s Castle.”

Keith nodded. His gaze swung back to Vaughn. “She can fix him.”

The words were so low that Sabine barely caught his murmur, but when the words registered, she frowned.

“There’s no going back once you become a vampire,” Ryder snapped. So he’d heard the man’s murmur, too. “And you need to put him down, for good. That bite spread the virus. Wyatt mutated his vampires. They aren’t like me. They’re—”

“Primal,” Keith whispered. Sick horror filled his eyes. “I know.”

“Then you know the only way to stop your son is to kill him.” Ryder’s hold on Sabine pushed her forward. “So if you really want to help him, put the man out of his misery.”

Her heart ached.

She could only imagine what Keith’s heart felt like. Maybe like it had been ripped from his chest?

Unable to help herself, Sabine looked back over her shoulder. The humans were retrieving their guns and closing in on Vaughn’s prone body.

He didn’t take Sabine back to Bran’s Castle. Her body shook against his, her rage and pain so clear on her face that it almost hurt to look at her.

She should have let me kill them all.

But she was soft inside. Sentimental.

Still human in that respect.

He braked his motorcycle—one he’d kept stored at Bran’s Castle—near the edge of the St. Louis Cemetery. “Where do you feel safe?” he asked as he turned to face her.

Her gaze was so dark and deep. But before, when she’d faced off against the humans, her gaze had changed.

For an instant, I saw flames.

Ryder knew that his growing suspicions about her were right. She wasn’t vampire, at least, not completely. The power of the phoenix was still inside her, struggling desperately to get out.

Which side would win? The vamp side? The phoenix? Or would they both just tear her apart?

I won’t let that happen. He would do anything necessary to protect her, even if he had to protect Sabine from herself.

“Where do you feel safe?” he pushed her. Because wherever the hell that was, he would take her there. Her trust in her family and friends had been ripped away. She needed reassurance, and he’d damn well give it to her. She needed—

“With you.” A soft confession.

He blinked.

Her lips lifted in a sad smile. “It’s probably crazy, I know it is, but I feel safe when I’m with you.”

He could only stare at her. Did the woman realize just how much power she was starting to wield over him?

No one. No one had ever made him feel the way she did. No one else ever would.

Her legs were on either side of his. Her body hugged his.

And each breath that he took made him need her more.

He wanted to take her out of the city. Get her as far away from everyone else as he could. They could disappear. Vanish. He had plenty of money. They could start a life somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

Jaw locking, Ryder turned away from her and revved the motor. Her arms curled around his stomach, and he felt her put her head over his shoulder blade. The woman fit his body. So well.

Too well.

His gaze cut into the dark. Were more enemies watching? Seeing the weakness that he couldn’t deny?

The motorcycle flew away from the corner. Ripped through the waning night.

He took them from the city. Away from the lights of the town and away from the danger that waited in New Orleans.

“A cabin.” Her voice came quietly, barely rising over the growl of the motorcycle. “At the edge of the swamp. We’d go there all the time when I was a kid.”

Her safe place?

I’m her safe place.

“Take the next exit,” she told him as her hold tightened. “Then turn right.”

The motorcycle sped off the exit ramp. Rushed around the narrow turn.

“Go straight. Drive until the road ends.”

He’d do anything to make the sadness leave her voice.

He followed her instructions, taking the turns, and glancing back to make sure that no headlights appeared in the distance. The road looked empty.

Appearances could be so very deceptive.

Then they were barreling down a small, dirt road. A gate waited up ahead with a NO TRESPASSING sign hanging from its gates.

Ryder drove right through the sagging gates. The cabin waited near the edge of the water. Small, but it looked clean.

He parked the bike in the back. Then Ryder let Sabine lead the way inside. She took a key from beneath a brick—did they always hide their keys in such a spot? And she opened the door, ushering him inside.

He expected the cabin to smell musty, closed-in, but the area was filled with a sweet, light scent.

The place was as clean on the inside as it was on the outside. A tidy table. A comfortable couch. The walls were lined with pictures of a much younger Sabine and her brother.

Damn but she’d been a cute kid. A heartbreaker, even when she’d had long pigtails.

“I was happy here. Always . . .” She rolled her shoulders. “But I guess it was stupid to come here. My dad or Rhett could have told Genesis about this place.”

He pulled her into his arms. Pressed his mouth to hers. “Let them come.” Didn’t she understand yet? No one was going to take her again. He wasn’t leaving her side, no matter what the hell happened next.

Her hands rose to his shoulders. Held tight. He liked the bite of her nails on his skin. Liked her bite more.

He kissed her again and his tongue pushed into her mouth. The kiss wasn’t wild or rough, not like before. Because this time, he wanted to comfort her.

To make her feel safe.

He kept the kiss light. A hard task, when his instincts demanded that he take. When Ryder felt his body tightening, he pulled his mouth from hers. Ryder pressed his forehead against Sabine’s. “You’re not alone.”

She’d never be.

He caught her hand. Pulled her toward the couch. She looked up at him, so sexy that she made him ache. His cock was fully erect, eager for her.

But this time, she needed more.

“My family betrayed me, too.” A confession that few had ever heard from him, but he wanted to share his past with her.

She sat down on the edge of the couch and stared up at him. Waited. Her lips were red from his mouth.

“I’ve walked the earth for a very, very long time, Sabine.” Longer than she probably realized. He’d stopped aging long ago. “As far as I know, I was the first vampire.”

Her eyes widened. “You—”

“I took a sickness when I was human. A disease that ravaged through me, seeming to consume me from the inside out.” He could still hear the sound of his own desperate screams. His mother’s wild pleas for help.

Help had finally come.

But it hadn’t been what he’d expected.

“The disease spread to others in my family.” A plague, that was what they would call it in the Middle Ages. A virus. A sickness, now.

“I recovered.” Flat. He held her gaze. “Most did not. Only my brother and I were spared. Everyone else . . . they perished.” The deaths hadn’t been easy. So much suffering. Agony. The bodies had been twisted. Spotted. Blackened. The rotting stench had filled the air. Death had come to his land.

“My brother was weakened from the disease. He could barely walk. His skin was mottled, scarred, but I—I was fine within a few nights.” His body had been strong.

Too strong.

“My blood has always been different.” Or else the virus would have ravaged him, too. “Something was . . . off with me.” He’d known it from the time he was just a child. There had been a darkness in him. An instinctive urge to hunt. To be the predator.

To destroy prey.

Evil? Maybe. Maybe that’s what he was. But he’d always tried to fight his deadly instincts, as best he could.

“Within just a few days, I noticed the new . . . hunger.”

Her gaze locked on his. “For blood.”

He nodded. “My teeth burned in my mouth. They stretched. Sharpened. My senses became more acute. When I touched my servant’s neck, I could hear the whoosh of his blood.” His hands fisted. “The first time I drank, I killed.”

She swallowed.

Tell her all. Show her the beast. “I enjoyed the kill.”

The silence in the room was deafening, but though Sabine tensed, she didn’t try to run from him. She just kept sitting there, staring up at him with those dark eyes of hers.

So he told her more. “I killed others. My hunger was insatiable. I wanted the blood. I gorged myself on it. In those first days, I was half-mad. A beast that had survived hell and wanted only blood.”

Human food had no longer been able to sustain him.

“Many tried to kill me.”

But their weapons hadn’t worked against him. Not any longer. They could slice his flesh or break his bones, but he quickly healed from those injuries.

“I was stronger, faster, so my attackers were the ones who died.” And the blood kept flowing.

“Why are you telling me this?” Sabine demanded.

“Because I want you to see what I am.” And to stay with me anyway. The whisper came from deep within. He ignored it. She had no choice. She had to stay with him. Too many were after her. To survive, Sabine needed his protection.

“I know what you are.” Her words were stark. Sad.

He flinched. I killed you, so yes, you do know. His hands fisted. “I told you . . . one of my brothers survived, but he was weak from the sickness.” Weak and still diseased. The scent of death had clung to him. “I . . . wanted to help him.” Because even though the bloodlust had created a monster in him, the man inside had still fought to rise to the surface. “My body was different. I knew that. So I thought that my blood must be different, too.”

There had been no doctors then. Just those who dealt in false magic and barbaric “healing” techniques. Even before he’d gone to his brother’s side, Malcolm had been bled. Again and again.

By the time Ryder had gone to him, Malcolm had already been near death.

“I wasn’t sure how to transform him. With the others, I hadn’t cared.” Humans, but he’d tossed them aside like they were nothing. See me for what I am. “But I wanted to save him.” No, he’d needed to save Malcolm.

“I gave him my blood. Forced him to drink, but nothing happened.” He’d been so furious. He’d paced in his brother’s room for hours and hours. But Malcolm had stayed pale and weak. “I gave him more. Kept forcing him to drink. He . . . fought me.”

And that was when it had happened.

“When I fought back, my hunger rose.” The scent of blood had been all around him. He hadn’t been strong enough to hold on to his control. “I bit his arm. His blood poured into me. He started to shake and convulse. I-I gave him more of my blood, still thinking it would help him.”

And, in a way, it had.

“That’s how you learned how to create other vampires,” Sabine said softly. “When you saved your brother.”

“Malcolm didn’t exactly think of it as a saving.” But Ryder nodded. “But it was after that moment, when I took his blood and gave him back my own . . . it was then that he changed.” Already so close to death, Ryder had thought that he’d lost his brother.

But Malcolm’s pallor had changed. The stiffness had faded away from his body. His eyes had opened. He’d . . .

Had the same consuming hunger that Ryder felt.

And the same loss of control.

How many had they killed in those first months? How much blood had they taken? There had been screams. Death.

Then they’d realized that there was more they could do. Not just drinking and killing.

Control.

“We learned that if we fed on humans and let them live, we could slip into their minds. We could control them completely, with just a thought.” A heady power. One he’d abused. One he’d abuse again.

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. Bit it lightly. Then asked, “Can you control me?”

He stared back at her.

“Have you?”

He wouldn’t lie to her. Others, sure, without a qualm. But not to her. “I tried.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“But you weren’t human. Your mind didn’t work like theirs. Every time I tried to reach you, I just saw a wall of fire.” He hadn’t been lying when he told her that before.

She rubbed her hands over the couch cushions. “And now? Since I’m like you? Do you still see the fire?”

“You’re not like me,” he muttered. He was still working that part out. “And I haven’t tried to control you since we left Genesis.” Not even when she’d left him. It had felt wrong.

“Try now.”

He shook his head.

Her brows rose. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to control you.” Control . . . that had been Malcolm’s thing. The more blood he’d taken, the more control he’d wanted. Ryder knew that he and Malcolm had both changed. All of a sudden, it had seemed that they’d had the power of gods, while they were surrounded by mere men.

Sex. Blood. Death.

But Ryder had finally found his control. Finally pulled back.

Malcolm hadn’t. “My brother was older than me.” By a year. “He’d always been the leader, the one who would rule after my father, but . . . with the change, he was weaker—”

“Weaker than you?” she finished, head tilting back.

He couldn’t read the emotions in her eyes, and he wanted to know what she was thinking.

“My blood made him, but though he was strong, I was stronger.”

“Because you were the first.” Her whisper. And she seemed to finally understand.

I was the first vampire.

Long before the legend of Vlad the Impaler, Ryder had been roaming the earth. Ryder didn’t know of another who’d been cursed by the bloodlust . . . until he awoke with the hunger.

Hell, it had been at least a few centuries later before he’d met Vlad on a blood-filled night.

“My brother didn’t want someone else to be stronger than him. Malcolm wanted to rule. He wanted the humans at his feet.” Malcolm had wanted to change the world. To show the humans just what they should fear.

And the stories had started to spread then. Stories about men who hunted during the night. Who drank blood. Who killed. Who terrified.

“I saw what happened.” He turned his back to her. Paced across the room. His gaze fell on a picture of Sabine. She looked about sixteen. Smiling from ear to ear as she stood on a sun-soaked deck. “The humans turned on each other. They killed, each other, because they thought the monsters were among them.” And they were. Only the fools were killing the wrong ones. “They tortured innocents. Slaughtered. And my brother was there, laughing at it all. Even holding court over some of the proceedings.”

Malcolm had enjoyed it all. Enjoyed having those he knew to be just humans brought before him. Malcolm had ordered their blood drained. Ordered them sliced open. Ordered so many atrocities.

His shoulders stiffened as the memories flooded through him. “Malcolm could have taught Wyatt a great deal about torture.”

He remembered the screams. Bones—broken. Bodies-slowly cut in half. The Middle Ages had been the worst time. So many ways to torture, ways that made the victims take so long to die.

The screams stay with me.

“I knew I had to stop him.” Malcolm’s madness had infected the humans, not just because he was controlling their minds, but because the hysteria spread so widely and quickly. “I wanted to stop the death.” It had sickened him, and the knowledge that pained him the most . . .

I started it. His blood had transformed Malcolm. If he’d just let his brother die, then so many other lives would have been spared.

“I went to him. Got him away from the followers he kept so close.” Malcolm had always been eager to make more vampires, though they hadn’t actually been called vampires, not back then. No one had called them vampires until centuries later.

Back then, they’d just been blood drinkers. Monsters.

Later, his kind had become vykolakas or strigoi. And, finally, vampire.

“You killed him,” she said, her voice without emotion.

He glanced back at her. “Actually, he tried to kill me first.” A perfect setup. “I was still trying to save him. Trying to stop his madness, when he drove a sword into my heart.”

The blade had been silver. Silver didn’t kill me, brother. But the blow had weakened him. “During his tortures, my brother had been experimenting.”

Just like Wyatt. His jaw locked. Ryder hated experiments. And the monsters who enjoyed them. “He killed humans, but he also made vampires . . . made them, then killed them, just so he could learn our weaknesses.”

You don’t understand. You’ve changed. Malcolm’s charge to him. We can have everything. We can drink this world dry.

Ryder hadn’t been thirsty any longer. He’d controlled his cravings. Been able to think past the bloodlust.

“He used the sword to maximize my blood loss, to weaken me.” If Ryder had been a normal “transformed” vampire, the attack would have worked. But Malcolm’s “experiments” had been off. Because Ryder wasn’t like the others. “While I was on the ground, bleeding out, he went for my head.” His brother hadn’t wanted to take any chances. He’d attacked quickly, going for a brutal kill. Ryder rubbed his neck, remembering that long-ago day. Time couldn’t erase some memories. Not the darkest ones.

Sabine rose and came toward him with slow steps. Her hand lifted and touched the skin of his throat. Her fingers felt like they were wrapped in silk. “But you stopped him.”

He offered her a small smile. “No, love, Malcolm drove that sword’s blade into my throat, and I choked on my own blood.”

Her lips parted in shock.

“But the first blow of the sword didn’t completely sever my head. My brother should have used a sharper blade.” His mistake. “So I fought back. Not with my body, because it was all but useless. I used my mind.” He’d made a shocking discovery then. “I could control the others. Every vampire he’d made. Every vampire I’d made.” His control hadn’t been limited to humans. “In those desperate moments, I reached out, and I could feel them all.”

Every single one.

He’d felt a rush of power so intense then that his body had shuddered.

“I sent out one order to the vampires. Just one . . . kill Malcolm.”

Her fingers trembled against his throat.

“And my brother stared into my eyes. He took the sword, and he plunged it into his own chest even as he screamed at me.”

“Ryder . . .”

“The others came. He wasn’t dead. They attacked him. Hitting. Punching. Clawing. Tearing into him. He kept screaming, but he wasn’t fighting them. He could scream, but he couldn’t fight.”

She didn’t stop touching him. Why? He was telling her everything. She knew his darkness. But she was leaning closer to him. “How did you get away?” Sabine asked.

“I made them give me blood.” He’d taken and taken. “They dragged my brother’s body away. Buried him.” What had been left of him.

“Then what did you do?”

“I tried to stop the monsters I’d made. Tried to pull them back, but by that point, there were too many of us.” He expelled a rough breath. “I hunted the worst of the vampires. Killed them. Staked those who slaughtered innocents and enjoyed the bloodbath.” Confess. “Though I was little better than they were. But I tried to be. I swear, I tried to be.”

Her fingertips rested over his pounding pulse. “How long did you hunt?”

“I’m still hunting.” A dark truth. “I’m the one who created the vampires, so it’s my job to take out the monsters who live to torture and destroy.” His job—his penance.

“I know the rage you carry,” he said, and Ryder was careful not to touch her. “You feel betrayed. You trusted your family.” This she had to understand. “But family can and will turn on you. Especially if . . .”

“If you’re a monster?”

“If they are the monsters. And humans can be just as evil and twisted as any beast stalking in the night.”

“Yes,” she agreed with her steady gaze, “they can be.” Then her fingers slid over his neck, lightly caressing his skin once more. “How close did you come to death that day?”

“Too close.” Close enough to know that he didn’t want to see whatever hell waited for him on the other side.

She leaned up on her toes, and her lips brushed over his throat. Over the phantom wound that had long since faded. “I’m sorry.”

She was apologizing to him? What the hell for?

“I couldn’t imagine killing my brother.”

No, she loved Rhett. Once, he’d loved Malcolm. Looked up to his brother. Fought death to save his brother’s life.

“But what would you do . . .” Ryder had to ask her this. He’d told her his story, and he had to ask, “If your Rhett tried to kill you?”

Her lips pressed over his racing pulse. Then she pulled back, just enough to look up into his gaze. Her lashes were long and dark, shadowing her eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Could you kill him? If it came down to a choice . . . you or him . . . could you do it?”

“I hope I don’t ever have to find out.”

It wasn’t an answer. He needed more from her. “Your father sent you to those men at Genesis. What if your brother comes after you? You want to save him, the same way I wanted to save Malcolm.” Maybe this was really the reason he’d told her about his twisted past. “When the time comes and you’re forced to choose, will you choose death for him? Or will you sacrifice yourself for him?”

She just stared back at him, and Ryder realized that she didn’t know what she’d do.

He understood then just what he’d have to do. If Sabine couldn’t fight back against those who would betray her, then he’d damn well take them out.

She could hate him. She could fight him. But she would live.

All of the others would die.

Vampire law. His law. You don’t hurt what’s mine.

No one would hurt her and keep living. No. One.

Rhett yanked his hand free of the rope, sending blood spattering behind him. His wrist was ripped open, thanks to all the sawing he’d had to do on the rope. But he was free now.

He’d shouted until his throat ached. That rat bastard Vaughn hadn’t come back. No one had come.

He used his bloody hand to yank at the other bonds. His ankles were raw, more damage from the ropes, but with some tugs and twists and a hell of a lot of hoarse “fucks”, he managed to get free of those bonds.

Then he was on his feet. His first step almost sent him tumbling right down on his face. The ropes had been too tight. There wasn’t enough circulation in his feet. They were numb. They were—

On fire as feeling surged back into them.

His teeth ground together as he forced himself to move. He had to get out of there. Had to find a phone and call for help.

Got to find Sabine. Because if Vaughn had gone after her. . .

The floor creaked. Not the floor he was standing on. The creak had come from the other room, just beyond his door. The building had been dead silent for so long that the quiet sound shocked him.

Rhett’s heart slammed into his chest. Vaughn was back. Rhett scrambled back. Light streamed into his room now, faint light that came through the cracks in the boards that lined the windows. He grabbed the chair he’d been sitting in and lifted it over his head. It wouldn’t be much of a weapon, but he’d do whatever the hell he had to do—

In order to survive.

But the man who opened the door wasn’t Vaughn. The guy was some big, rough-looking bastard with black hair and glinting eyes. The guy smirked as he took in Rhett’s weapon and bloody form.

I know him. Rhett’s eyes narrowed. This was the SOB who’d burned down The Rift! Rhett had seen him.

“Good thing I was the one to find you and not some vamp.” The man lifted one black brow. “Or else feeding time would be going on right about now.”

“Who the hell are you?” Rhett didn’t attack, not yet. Mostly because his arms weren’t exactly feeling steady. Need another second. Just gathering my strength, then I’ll attack.

“What do you think your sister will do in order to get you back?” the man asked, lifting a hand to scratch his chin. “Do you think she’d trade her life for yours? Maybe trade the life of her vampire lover?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

The guy’s smirk just got bigger.

And Rhett had gathered his strength. He attacked, launching forward with the chair.

The guy grabbed the chair before Rhett could slam it into his head. The man’s fingers wrapped around the wood. “I’m someone you don’t want as an enemy.”

His eyes weren’t dark any longer. There was a circle of orange—red?—around his pupils. As if . . . as if his eyes were burning.

The wood began to smoke beneath the man’s hand. Tendrils of smoke drifted into the air. Then the wood caught on fire. Big, bright flames erupted along the surface of the broken chair.

Rhett jerked his hand away and leapt back.

“I told you, be glad I’m not a vampire.” The chair burned to ash in a blaze that matched the fire in the man’s eyes.

No, not a vampire, but . . . “What are you?” Rhett’s voice was hoarse, thanks to all the damn screaming and yelling he’d done.

But the guy wasn’t answering him. He was too busy touching the wall to his right. Just his touch sent flames licking up the old wood and rushing toward the ceiling.

“Stop!” Rhett yelled—or tried to yell. But, oh hell, screw stopping the guy. He just needed to get away from him. So Rhett rushed forward. He plowed his fist into the guy’s face—shit, that blow scorched his knuckles—and tried to lunge through the doorway.

But the hulking guy just laughed and grabbed hold of his arm. “It’s not that easy.” He looked over at the flames. They were burning bright and hot. “We’ll send a little message to your sister, then we’ll let her find us.”

“If you’re killing me, do it,” Rhett snarled. The guy’s hold was burning into his skin. “I’m not going to let you use me against Sabine.” The way Vaughn had wanted to use him.

“Of course, you will.” He said it as if there had never been any doubt. “You’re just human.” The guy shrugged. “What else are you gonna do?”

Kill your ass. He was just close enough to do the job. Cocky supernatural. Thinking humans weren’t a threat. “I didn’t know if Vaughn would be coming for me, or if it would be someone else.”

Blisters were on his skin. Blisters and blood and he was tired of being a punching bag.

Rhett said, “But even if a vampire had come through that door, I wasn’t gonna go down without a fight.”

That stupid smirk was getting on his nerves.

“Why fight?” the man asked. “The result will be the same. You’ll lose.”

“No.” But Rhett stopped fighting. For the moment. Let him think I’m weak. “You will.” Then he brought up his left hand—with the broken chair leg that he’d kept hidden—and he stabbed that chunk of wood right into the pyro’s chest.

The guy’s eyes widened with surprise.

“Guess you didn’t see that coming,” Rhett said as he twisted the chunk of wood.

The SOB’s hand fell away. His body sagged to the floor.

“Stop underestimating humans,” Rhett bit out. He turned away. Rushed through the door.

The crackle of flames grew louder behind him. Rhett didn’t bother trying to pull the man’s body from the fire. Even a vamp couldn’t rise with a stake in his heart.

The fire kept spreading.

Rhett rushed away from the flames.