Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“I don’t answer to you.” Major Barker’s tone remains level.
“It’s the blood resorts,” I say quietly.
“What about them?” Aang whirls, his usual scowl back on me. “What did you hear?”
“They—those people—they think we’re stealing blood from the volunteers. Killing them.”
“What? Why?”
“For our experiments.”
“That … doesn’t make any sense.” Aang shakes his head. “The fucking truth makes more sense than that does.”
“Aang, don’t.” If I have to tackle him to shut him up, I will. We can’t talk here.
He closes his eyes. “Fucking Idrine. I told him not to—” He puts his palm over his mouth and squeezes his eyes shut.
“Hey, we don’t know anything. He could be fine.” Evie wraps her arm around his shoulders.
Major Barker, listening the whole time, takes a step back. “I’ll be going. I’ll have my men dispose of the bodies downstairs. My command station will be two blocks east along the avenue. Contact me if you need anything.” Major Barker turns on his heel and strides down the hall, then pauses when a voice comes through his radio.
“Major, we have someone detained down here.”
There’s some scuffling, then another, more distant, voice. “Good Lord, you got a strong grip, fella. Hey, tell Dr. Clark—”
“Gene!” Gretchen and I yell in unison.
“Let him up. He’s my assistant.” I feel like it’s a trick, like I’m imagining a happy ending where there isn’t one. But maybe I can hope just a little more. He survived.
“He’s with the scientists. Turn him loose.” Major Barker radios back, then marches away with the same neat precision as he’s done everything else since he entered the apartment.
Once he’s gone, I sink back into the armchair, everything in me on the verge of collapse.
“Come on. Let’s get you some water.” Evie leads Aang to the kitchen.
“I’m not a fan, but I suppose if anyone can keep us safe here it’s that absolute hardass.” Wyatt leans into the hallway, perhaps checking to make sure the major is really gone.
I’d like to believe that, too. But I know the major and all his troops won’t be enough. Not when we’re defending a war on two fronts—one against our own people and another against the vampires.
24
I’m sitting at the island when Valen walks in. He’s well put together, his dark jeans and black pullover almost normal. Like he walked out of a clothing ad before the world fell apart.
The others left a few hours ago, though Gretchen volunteered to stay the night with me. I declined, and ever since, I’ve been waiting for him. Thinking about what I want to say but never deciding on anything.
Valen is like a black hole. I know nothing about him—I can’t know anything about him. His history is too vast, too far-reaching and dark. I can ask question after question, get veiled answer after veiled answer. But I still won’t know anything more than I do now. He’s a vampire, one who can walk in the sun. A killer, one who’s killed for me.
That’s all I know about him. But the part that scares me is what I know about me. Despite how much I hate him for what he is and what he’s done, I’m drawn to him. I always have been, if I’m being honest with myself. I can’t explain it. I don’t want to try. Not tonight.
“I suppose you have no updates for me.” He gives me his usual snide tone.
“Why?” I ask.
He stands across the island from me, his gaze searching my face. There’s not a scratch on it. He healed my injuries, every last one of them. My surface is smooth and unmarred. What lies underneath is pockmarked and bleeding.
“Why?” I repeat my question. “Why did you save me?”
His gaze narrows, the haughty façade still in place. “You know why. You’re an asset, one I’m bound to protect.”
“That’s not why.” I rub my eyes and refocus on him. “What you did in the atrium—that wasn’t an act of someone protecting an ‘asset’.” I stand and walk around to him. He follows my movements, his body turning in time with mine until we meet. “That was …” I remember the screams, the smell of viscera and death.
“Personal?” he asks.
“Yes.” I look up into his eyes.
He shrugs lightly. “Or perhaps in your sheltered life you’ve never seen true acts of violence done by someone who knows exactly how to inflict the most pain. Someone who enjoys it.” He smirks.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” He raises a brow.
“You tore them apart. I don’t think anyone escaped.”
“They didn’t.” He smiles coldly. “Some tried, of course. I hunted them down. They thought they’d gotten away. It’s more fun when they think they’re safe, that the shadow has passed them by.”
I should be horrified. I’m not. I’m … relieved. There’s a piece of me missing, a switch that flipped when Clay gutted me with enjoyment in his eyes. The missing piece has been replaced with something colder, darker, sharper. Akin to vengeance, but more vicious.