Chapter 10 #2
“Working together,” she repeated. She slumped back into her seat, her gaze stark and sad. “What about Micah’s death?”
“We’re working together despite Micah’s murder.”
She nodded, then looked him straight in the eyes as she searched for the truth. “Tell me honestly. Are we enemies now? Are you gunning for the Sentinels?”
“Never. I’m just trying to save as many lycan and mortal lives as possible.” He thought of the wraith ambush, and a chill moved through him. What kind of world would they be living in if such attacks were commonplace? “The vamp infection we saw in Hurricane is spreading. Vash is trying to stop it.”
“Why couldn’t you stop it with us?” Straightening, she set her elbows on her knees and leaned in close. “Why did you have to revolt?”
“I didn’t want this.” He pleaded for her understanding with his gaze. “But once it happened, I couldn’t not step up. Those who want to work with the Sentinels will find their way back to Adrian. The rest need an Alpha, or they’ll die. I couldn’t just turn my back and let that happen.”
The door opened, and Vash walked in. “How cozy. I’m not interrupting an intimate moment, am I?”
Elijah felt the knot in his gut loosen at the sight of her.
She was fresh from a shower, dressed in her trademark stark black with her damp hair pulled back in a ponytail.
Her skintight pants barely clung to her hips, while her short, sleeveless vest was small enough to pass for a bra.
It was a testament to how incapacitated he was that his dick couldn’t muster more than a semi in appreciation.
“You’re a crazy bitch,” he said gruffly. He glanced at Lindsay. “You, too. Adrian can’t be happy about this. Shit, I’m not entirely happy about it. You’re too exposed here.”
“What was I going to do?” Lindsay shot back. “Let you die? Couldn’t do it, El.”
Vash gave an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes. “My god, the way women fawn all over you.”
Lindsay snorted. “So says the vampress who fought off Adrian to get blood for him.”
A ringing phone had Lindsay pushing to her feet. She dug it out of her pocket and answered. “Adrian… Yes, I’m fine.”
As she moved into a corner to talk, Vash stepped closer. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “How do you feel?”
“Like hammered shit.”
“You look like it, too.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Muttering to herself, she reached out and pushed her hands through his hair, brushing the strands back from his face.
He nuzzled into her touch, moved by what she’d done for him.
He was a man sworn to kill her, yet she had risked her life to save him.
“You went to a lot of trouble, Vashti. Put a lot on the line.”
“Don’t read anything into it,” she muttered. “We need the lycans, and you’re a package deal.”
“Hmm…”
“That’s all this is,” she insisted, scowling.
“We don’t know what this is,” he said softly. Somewhere along the way, in an impossibly short span of time, their higher reasoning in regard to each other had been subverted by impulse.
Lindsay returned. She gave Elijah a searching glance. “Are we going to do this?”
He knew what she was asking, whether or not he wanted to risk the possible hazards of her blood. After what she and Vash had gone through to get it for him, it was a no-brainer. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
Needing air, Syre left the building. It was dusk now, the desert sky painted in shades of orange, pink, and purple. A streak of lightning arced through the sky, then another. Out of place, he thought, but beautiful.
The sizzling heat of the day had abated, as had the fury of his earlier mood.
His second-in-command had put every vampire at risk by her actions, but part of him was secretly relieved to see her fighting for something beyond her vengeance.
She’d been twisted by bitterness for so long.
Long enough that it had become the only thing she lived for.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Adrian. When the call went to voicemail, he left a message.
“Adrian,” he said darkly. “Vashti’s actions today weren’t sanctioned. Nevertheless, I’ll go to the wall for her. If it’s vengeance you want, you know where to find me. Leave her out of it.”
Killing the call, he rounded the corner of the building and came to an abrupt stop.
Raze leaned against the metal siding of the building’s exterior, his arms crossed and massive biceps bulging.
His gaze was riveted to the slender female silhouette just a few yards away.
She was pacing, as if agitated, and speaking on a phone. To Adrian.
Syre waved the Fallen captain away and shoved his hands in his pockets, taking up the watchful position he’d dismissed Raze from.
Syre’s emotions were a morass of pain, guilt, sorrow, grief, and anger.
As he watched the woman who’d supplanted his beloved daughter in every way—the woman who was the greatest vulnerability of his oldest adversary—he realized he had no idea what to say to her… or do with her. If anything.
“I can tough it out,” she was saying. “I’ll be home soon, neshama. Please don’t worry… Yes, I know that’s impossible. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Because I’m worried about you… I will… I love you, too.”
Ending the call, she stared down at the phone in her hand and sighed. There was something in the sound, a note of regret and weariness that struck a chord in Syre. Pivoting, she faced him and saw him standing there.
She froze, her eyes blinking in the waning light. She was a fledgling, still growing into her new senses.
“How are you feeling, Lindsay?”
She shoved her hand through her curls, a habit he remembered she fell into when discomfited. Her mouth opened, then closed. She shrugged. “Not so hot.”
He stepped closer, slowly, approaching her in a nonthreatening manner. As he neared, he saw the fever brightness of her eyes and her rapid, shallow breathing. “How much blood did you give the Alpha?”
“A pint. Maybe a little more.”
“It’s too soon after the Change,” he murmured, lifting his hand cautiously toward her face. “Can I?”
She nodded.
He found her skin burning hot. “How often is Adrian feeding you?”
“Every few hours.”
“How long has it been?” He caught her chin when she looked away. “How long, Lindsay?”
“Six. Maybe seven.”
“You need to eat.”
She shook her head.
Syre remembered how the act of drinking blood had so horrified her. She’d almost died by refusing to feed. He was surprised to find that he was relieved she’d survived after all.
He blew out his breath. “Come inside.”
Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out a bandana and began to tie it around her head, covering her eyes.
“That’s not necessary,” he said.
“It’s safer for me. And for you. If something happens to me, Adrian will go ballistic. The less risk I pose, the better for everyone.”
“All right.” Gripping her elbow, he steered her back into the building and toward the office he’d commandeered as his own.
As they crossed the vast space, lycans who’d been sitting at various points around the open warehouse pushed slowly to their feet, eyeing him with hostile suspicion.
Old habits die hard, he thought. Going head-to-head with Adrian and the Sentinels wasn’t something they were willing to risk yet.
They weren’t going to let him incite a war with Adrian over Lindsay.
Syre shut them out by closing his office door, then tugged the bandana off her face.
Although his night vision was excellent, he was struck by the sight of her in the harsh glare of the fluorescent overhead lights.
She was nothing like Shadoe, but still…he felt oddly soothed in her presence.
Something that had been vibrating with disquiet inside him settled down.
She sank into one of the two visitors’ chairs in front of the utilitarian metal desk, and he took the other.
She studied him boldly.
His brows rose in silent inquiry.
“I was scared the first time I saw you,” she explained. “Afterward, I was distracted and then very ill.”
“You’re not scared now?”
“You’re being very careful that I won’t be.” His mouth curved, and her breath caught.
“You’re…very attractive,” she admitted. “I’d forgotten how young you appear.”
Leaning forward, he set his elbows on his knees and got to the most pressing point. “You drank from me once before. Will you do so again?”
“Why?”
“You need to eat. Fledglings are easily damaged by a lack of blood. It’s been too long between feedings, and you’ve given some of your blood away.”
“That’s not what I meant. I know why I should want to, but I don’t know why you would.”
Syre looked down, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t know. It’s a combination of things, I suppose. You’re as close as I’ll ever be to Shadoe. Until I pass on.”
“I’m not Shadoe.” Her voice was soft and compassionate, earning his appreciation and respect.
“I’ve heard some families of organ donors keep in touch with the transplant recipients.” He glanced up at her. “There’s a bond there, whether it’s real or imagined.”
“Is that healthy?”
It was his turn to shrug. “Who can say? There’s something else, though, that would lead me to make this same offer. I Changed you, Lindsay. In that respect, there’s no doubt I sired you.”
The space between her brows was marred by a frown. “How long does that sense of obligation last?”
“I really can’t say. I’ve only Changed two individuals in my life: Shadoe, who didn’t complete the transformation, and you, who won’t if you don’t feed.”
Her eyes widened. “Only two of us? How is that possible? There are so many vampires.”
“If each vampire infected just one other person, our numbers would be great. Of course, there are those who Change far more than one.” His mouth curved wryly. “Are you disappointed I’m not more evil?”