Chapter Eleven
Marcus
The worse Marcus felt about his behavior, the more he felt helpless to change it. He was being an asshole. He could feel it, could hear the words, see what Briar saw, but for the life of him, he could not dig himself out of this hole he found himself in.
It was worse when he smelled her. The scent of wildflowers, on a good day, tempting, was mouthwatering when she’d emerged from the second floor with Hudson.
Unlike Sylvain, who looked a little green when he smelled them, Marcus was happy for Hudson. It was another sign his brother was coming back to life.
Any other time, Marcus would have made a joke. But he couldn’t today. Nothing was funny. Maybe he should have been laughing. After all, he’d survived an encounter with his maker and came out—undead.
Marcus snorted and shook his head. Maybe things were a little funny.
Sylvain had taken Briar to school, and now he had all day to anticipate the conversation she’d promised. He felt like a scolded child, waiting for his parent to get home to receive his punishment.
Briar wouldn’t punish him, but she’d be sad. He’d probably make her sad again, and then he’d feel even worse.
So stop!
Why was he acting like this?
Guilt.
His vampire was full of helpful tidbits today, probably because he’d seen his eternal life flash before his eyes when Asher ripped his fangs across Marcus’s throat.
He’d almost had the bastard. Almost.
If he hadn’t let himself be so single-mindedly focused on Asher, he could have seen the soldiers coming. And maybe if he’d seen them, he could have acted faster. He’d lost the chance to kill his maker.
Marcus paced the length of his bedroom, past his sleigh bed and the heavy, walnut bureau and end tables he’d spent so much time picking out. It was stupid to have a bed when he didn’t sleep. He could have used this space for something useful, like a library, or a lab, or—he didn’t know—a gaming room.
Pausing, he considered the room. What he had been so careful choosing now seemed pretentious. Since Briar had come into his life, Marcus had begun to feel like a better version of himself—stronger. Smarter.
Until Hudson had turned to him with stricken eyes and terror etched onto his face.
Then Marcus realized that everything he knew about himself was wrong. He wasn’t smarter than Asher. The plans he and Hudson had made were a waste when the entire time they’d strategized, Asher was attacking Briar, night after night.
He went into the bathroom and ran the shower. He stunk like Asher. He could smell his creator’s blood through his skin. Even after gorging on the bag of blood, he could still smell him. It would be hours, maybe days, before the scent left him completely.
Thinking about scents reminded him of Briar’s, and he hurriedly undressed before jumping into the shower. The warm water poured over his skin, sluicing away the dirt and blood that covered him. He watched the pink-tinged water swirl around his feet and then disappear down the drain.
Briar had never smelled as good as she had earlier. Whatever she and Hudson had done had blossomed her scent so it filled the room like a cloud. The remembered scent was enough to make his fangs descend. He ran a finger over his upper lip. His mouth felt achy and swollen. The blood from earlier had helped him heal, but it’d done nothing to assuage his hunger. The only thing that would satisfy him was the one thing he couldn’t have.
Briar.
Marcus flipped the shower handle to cold and was rewarded with a blast of freezing water he hoped would help with the massive erection he’d sported since smelling her. His forehead thudded against the tiled wall, and he groaned.
What would it feel like, touching her? Would the freckles that covered her face trail all the way down her shoulders and back? Maybe decorate her legs?
Marcus imagined his hands trailing over her milky pale skin and shivered, though not from the cold water.
His dick hardened, and he took himself in hand. He was rougher than he imagined Briar would be. Her hands would be soft, and she’d be uncertain. He’d have to show her what he wanted, how hard he wanted her to grip him, how fast he wanted her to pump him.
Marcus groaned, all thoughts of nearly losing his life gone. Now there was only Briar’s face behind his closed eyelids and her perfect pink mouth, opened in a sigh as he skimmed his hands down her back and around her waist.
As he imagined parting the folds between her legs and rubbing her pink clit under the pads of his fingers, he came with a loud moan. Immediately, he clenched his teeth to keep the sound inside, but the image was too clear, too pure. Besides, it wasn’t like Valen or Hudson wouldn’t be jacking off later to Briar’s remembered scent as well.
Well, maybe not Hudson. He’d have the actual memory to keep him company during his cold showers.
Toweling off, Marcus walked into his bedroom, only to be greeted by the man himself.
“Feel better?” Hudson asked, voice devoid of any double entendre. If Marcus had been in his place, he wouldn’t have been able to help a few dirty jokes. But Hudson wasn’t like Marcus.
“Yeah.” Marcus dug through his drawers to find a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He tugged the material over his damp body before facing Hudson.
Hudson approached him, eyes on Marcus’s neck. “I’d hope so. Whatever you were working out was audible downstairs.”
So maybe Hudson wasn’t quite the gentleman Marcus made him out to be. Something about his brother ragging on him eased the tension in his chest. Still… “Jesus, Hud.”
“What?” Hudson tilted Marcus’s head to one side, touching the now healed wounds. “How do you feel?”
“I thought you knew how I felt,” Marcus retorted, but Hudson narrowed his eyes. “I feel fine.”
“You’re going to need to feed again,” Hudson said. “You should do it before Briar gets home.”
“I’d never—” he began and then stopped. He would never take Briar’s blood without her permission, but what if she offered? If he kissed her, took her to his bed, would she offer him her throat? And if she did, would he deny himself a taste of her? He didn’t think he would be strong enough to say no.
Ever since Hudson had returned home, weeks ago, with the astonishing information that Briar’s cells didn’t react to their venom, the knowledge had weighed on Marcus. If he slid his fangs into Briar’s skin, his venom wouldn’t effect her. As long as he didn’t share his blood, Briar was safe from him accidentally turning her.
If she offered, he would take her in his arms…lower his lips to her throat…
Then again, he’d been an asshole, so it was highly unlikely Briar’d run into his arms anytime soon.
“I see your mind going a thousand miles an hour,” Hudson said.
“I can’t stop myself.” Marcus jerked away from Hudson to throw himself onto the bed. He crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the tin ceiling. “I freaked out about Asher, and I took it out on Briar. Then, when she was worried about me, I dismissed her.”
“I know,” Hudson answered. “You made a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Marcus snorted. “A mistake is something you do once. I’ve been nothing but miserable to Briar. And she’s done nothing to deserve it. Nothing.”
“So apologize,” Hudson said, like it was the easiest thing ever.
“Why aren’t you more upset?” Marcus asked suddenly. “Asher is invading her dreams, showing her God knows what, and you’re Mister Chill? Where’s the Hudson I know? The general whose words cut like a knife?”
Hudson sat next to him and shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel stronger than I have before. Briar came to me.” Marcus lifted both eyebrows and waggled them, and it was Hudson’s turn to shake his head. “For help, Marcus. She came to me for help. And now we’re aware of what Asher is doing.”
“But we have no idea how to stop him. Briar needs sleep. I assume she was up most of the night?” he asked.
“A good portion, yes,” Hudson allowed.
“Then she’s going to be even more exhausted, and what are we supposed to do? Keep her awake? Shoot her full of caffeine, or Ritalin, and hope for the best?” Marcus asked. “I. Don’t. Know. What. To. Do, Hudson.”
Hudson stood and paced the room. “He comes to her when she sleeps.”
“Yeah, I know,” Marcus replied. “But we can’t keep her from sleeping, and we don’t know how to stop Asher.”
“It’s all brain stuff,” Hudson said thoughtfully and gripped the end of the sleigh bed. He rocked forward and back, staring over Marcus’s head at the wall. “How does he get into her mind? Does he have to be close? Is there a way to keep him out? Did he do this to us?”
The questions rattled off one after another, but Marcus recognized his brother wasn’t asking because he wanted Marcus to answer. Each question was one that would lead him to a larger question, the hypothesis he would then investigate and solve.
“What were we doing last night while Asher was attacking her?” Hudson asked, pinning Marcus with a gaze. This was a question he was supposed to answer.
“Strategizing,” Marcus answered quickly.
“Yes, but more specifically?” Hudson asked.
“We were revisiting battles we’d fought with Asher, hashing out where we’d been weak and how we could exploit those weaknesses again.” Marcus had no idea where he was going with this.
“Exactly,” Hudson said. “We were talking about a battle we fought hundreds of years ago, and upstairs, Asher brought Briar to that very battle. It was there she spoke to me. Told me to help her.”
“It could be a coincidence,” Marcus said. “We don’t know enough about what happened to Briar to draw a conclusion about how it happened.”
Hudson drummed his fingers on the footboard. “When we dream, our brain enters different states.”
“Right, REM sleep, non-REM sleep,” Marcus interrupted.
“Yes, but, think broader,” Hudson corrected. He stood and clasped his hands behind his back. “Think brainwaves. What type of brainwaves are typical during REM sleep?”
“Theta,” Marcus answered quickly.
“And when we access our memory?” Hudson went on.
“Theta,” Marcus answered again.
“And there’s been some research that shows people actually synchronize their brain waves when they have conversations,” Hudson said. “Perhaps…”
“Perhaps what we’re assuming Asher is doing is magical when it actually has a scientific explanation,” Marcus finished. “In reality, he’s not actually feeding from her. He’s making her believe he’s feeding from her.”
“Exactly.” Hudson smiled. “And let’s not forget, Briar’s DNA. She has all the markers of a vampire. Perhaps that’s why her cells don’t react to our venom…”
Marcus swallowed audibly before he spoke. “So if we change her brainwave patterns while she’s asleep, she should be able to rest and we can keep Asher out of her head.”
“Maybe,” Hudson replied. “We won’t know unless we do an EEG, and even then, it’s not like she’s able to remember what happens when he comes to her. Unless she approaches us again and we carry over the knowledge, then—”
“Fuck.” Marcus pushed himself off the bed and rubbed the palm of his hand over his head. “You can be sure Asher won’t make the same mistake again.”
“You don’t know that,” Hudson said. “We don’t know he won’t shove our memories in her face. He’s torturing her. What better way than through us?”
“I wish we could go back in time and figure out when he appeared to her last night.”
“What time did she go to bed?” Hudson asked.
“I don’t know,” Marcus answered. “But Valen might.”
Hudson was already striding toward the door. He nearly ripped the thing off the hinges whipping it open. “Valen!”
Their massive brother appeared a breath later. His blue eyes were worried. “What? Did you hear from Sylvain? Is it Briar?”
“No,” Hudson answered quickly. “What time did Briar go to sleep last night?”
“Just after eleven-thirty,” Valen said after a moment. He studied the ceiling as if searching his memory before repeating, “Yes. It was around eleven-thirty.”
“Typically, REM sleep happens about an hour and a half into sleep. I don’t suppose you remember when I ran upstairs?” Hudson asked Valen.
“One,” the answer came immediately. “It was one in the morning.”
“An hour and a half after she fell asleep,” Marcus intoned. “It happens when she dreams.”
Hudson smiled, but there was no amusement in the expression. “Yes. There we go. It happens when she dreams. Now, whether it’s the only time it happens, we can’t be sure, but we can assume he appears when she dreams.”
“Theta waves,” Marcus said.
“Theta waves,” Hudson repeated. “We keep her from REM for the time being, and we keep Asher out.”
“You hope,” Valen interjected. He glanced between Marcus and Hudson, eyes narrowed. He may not have understood theta waves, but Marcus’s brother was an intelligent man. He’d followed along easily with their reasoning and drawn his own conclusion. “You hope that’s when he appears, but you can’t know for sure. How do you keep someone from dreaming?” he asked.
“You can wake them,” Marcus said, but Valen immediately shook his head. “That won’t work. When he’s with her, we can’t wake her.”
“It’s almost like sleep paralysis,” Hudson said. “It’s another part of REM sleep. It’s generally difficult to wake someone in REM sleep anyway. Think about all the times we’ve had trouble waking her. For example, the night we had to wake her with smelling salts. Anyone remember what time it was?”
This time, Valen shook his head, ashamed.
“It’s not your responsibility to look at the clock each time Briar wakes up,” Marcus told him.
“Of course not,” Hudson said. “It was worth a shot.”
Valen crossed his arms and went to the window, peeking out onto the street. “Maybe Sylvain will. He was the one who knew something was wrong. He may have a clearer memory of it. He’s known all along, you know. You’d do well to listen to him, not discount what he has to say.”
Valen was right. Marcus and Hudson had ignored Sylvain and Valen, relegating them to the same roles they’d had hundreds of years ago. They hadn’t shared their plans—hell—they hadn’t included them in anything they’d talked about so far.
They were assholes.
Sylvain and Valen had just as much to contribute, just as much experience to guide their strategies. Not only had they done a disservice to their brothers by excluding them, but to all of their plans for offense and defense.
“We need to work together,” Marcus said. “We were stupid to exclude you, Valen. I’m sorry.”
Valen nodded, accepting his apology easily. The man had the biggest heart of anyone Marcus had ever known. “You took on the mantle of leadership,” Valen said. “Like you’d never stopped wearing it.”
“Once a general…” Marcus droned, but stopped. He wanted Valen to know he was serious. “It was wrong of me not to listen to your thoughts and experience, Valen. I apologize.”
His brother smiled and slapped him on the back. Marcus lurched forward at the force of his hit. “Forgiven, brother.”
“Marcus is right, Valen,” Hudson added. “I apologize as well. I had my head up my ass.”
Valen chuckled, accepting Hudson’s hand when he stuck it out to shake. “Apology accepted, Hudson. So tell me, brothers of science, how do we keep our Briar from dreaming?”