Chapter Six
Marcus
Hudson dropped his pen.
It shouldn’t have created any sort of reaction within Marcus, but his brother’s already pale faced paled further.
“Hudson, what is it?” Marcus asked. Above their head, Briar slept. Sylvain and Valen were next door to her, engaged in their own strategy. Her heartbeat was steady, and her breathing, though rapid, regular. Assured of her presence and health, he could focus again on Hudson. “What’s the problem?” he asked again.
“I don’t know,” Hudson answered. “It’s like…” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and shook his head. “There’s something hovering around the edges of my mind all of a sudden. Something I need to do. To remember.”
“Something to do with Briar?” Marcus asked.
Hudson dropped his hands, and stared at the ceiling. “Yes.” His voice was thick, his upper lip suddenly swelling as his fangs descended. “Fuck.” The word was garbled. He crouched low, skin drawing tight over the bones of his face. He was ready for battle.
“Fuck,” Marcus repeated, leaping in front of him when Hudson lunged for the door. They hit the solid wood, crashing through it into the hallway.
“I have to help her,” Hudson said. “Get out of my way!”
The monster, amazingly, was under control. Immediately, Marcus let his brother up and took off after Hudson as he bolted for the stairs.
“Sylvain!” Marcus yelled. “Valen!” They were closer than he and Hudson and could get to her faster.
The alarm in his voice was enough to send Valen and Sylvain hurrying from their room and into Briar’s. He and Hudson arrived in time to see them lift Briar from the bed, crouch over her and survey the room for danger.
Marcus listened. He breathed in deeply, but he could smell nothing off.
Except…
“Fear.” Sylvain growled. “It is her fear.”
“Briar.” Valen shook her, but her head lolled between her shoulders.
“I told you,” Sylvain ripped her from Valen’s arm, retreating to the corner of the room where he slid down the wall, cradling her in his arms. “I told you, motherfuckers. I told you…” His voice trailed off as he turned his focus to Briar. Marcus wanted her in his arms and started toward him, but Sylvain hissed warningly.
“What is going on?” Valen asked. He stood next to the window, muscles bunched, ready to leap and fight at the first sign.
Hudson shook his head. “Can’t. Speak.” The monster was riding him hard. He paced the floor, eyes on Briar and then the windows, the door, as Sylvain worked over her. As a doctor, Hudson was best suited to help her, but he was keeping himself away from her. Whatever it was that had alerted Hudson to her state, it made him walk the line.
Marcus edged closer to Sylvain. He was the next best thing to a medical doctor; he needed to help her. “Sylvain,” he began.
Sylvain flashed him a narrowed-eyed glare before turning his attention back to Briar. “Come on, blossom. Wake up. You’re safe. We’re here.”
“Not safe.” Hudson crouched, elbows on his knees, staring at Briar. “Not safe.” He roared suddenly, gripping his hair in fists so tight, Marcus expected to see clumps of hair. Panting, Hudson tried to regain control over himself.
“I don’t know what to fight,” Valen stated baldly from his place next to the window. “Dammit, Marcus. What do I do?”
“Shut up!” Sylvain yelled. “Hudson. Get your shit together and get over here. I can’t wake her up.”
Hudson shook his head, a constant, low growl rumbling from his chest. “Not safe. Marcus.” He pinned Marcus with an angry glare. “Ammonia.”
They’d used the smelling salts from the first aid kit to awaken her the first time this had happened. Stupidly, though, Marcus hadn’t replaced the single-use bottle.
Before he could blink, Valen had dashed past him and returned, an oversized bottle of the cleaning fluid and a cloth in his hands. He unscrewed the top, dribbling the liquid on a cloth before reaching toward Briar.
Sylvain hissed, grabbed the fabric from Valen and turned his back, edging closer to the wall. Marcus stepped forward, but Sylvain hissed again. Great. He had a monster on one side of him and the illogical predator on the other, curled over his girl like she was a gazelle.
Marcus dismissed the thought. He was being unfair to Sylvain. His brother couldn’t help the instincts that had arisen in him. One glance, and it was obvious Sylvain was in protection mode. A soft groan from Sylvain’s lap had Marcus’s knees weak with relief.
“Sylvain.” Briar’s voice caught on a sob. “Sylvain. It hurts.”
Marcus could make out her heart rate, but something had changed. The way the air entered her lungs was different. Like she was struggling to expand her diaphragm.
“Hudson.” Marcus made his voice a whip.
“I’m trying,” Hudson got out. At least he was beginning to sound more like a man than a monster. He sucked in a deep breath and held it. A second later, he rushed to Briar. “Sylvain,” he said calmly. “Let me see her.”
Sylvain growled, but moved to slide Briar into Hudson’s arms. She cried out, and he immediately stopped, bringing her close to him again. “What is happening?” he yelled.
Hudson dipped his head, placing his ear on Briar’s chest. “I don’t know,” he stated. “Briar.” He lifted his head but lowered his voice. “Briar. What hurts?”
Hudson’s presence seemed to have a calming effect on her. She shut her eyes, signaling her attention had turned inward. Slowly, a flush of heat rose along her neck to her cheeks. “I’m okay,” she whispered. She took a deep breath, and touched her ribs. “It hurt so bad, and now.” She breathed deeply again. “Nothing. I feel fine. Normal. I’m so sorry. It must have been a dream.”
“Bullshit,” Sylvain said. “It wasn’t a dream. God-fucking-dammit.” He passed Briar to Hudson quickly and stood. He strode past Valen to the window, flicking aside the curtain to check the street.
“It’s not a dream,” Hudson said, repeating what Sylvain said. “It—”
Not a dream? “What did you dream, Briar?” Marcus asked, but she only shook her head.
“I don’t remember,” she answered. Her cheeks were still rosy, and she had trouble making eye contact. “I just remember feelings, being frightened. Terrified, actually. And then I woke up and my whole body hurt. But it doesn’t now.” She tried to push away from Hudson, but he held her tight. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t.” Hudson stopped her.
“Hudson,” Marcus interrupted them both. “Enough of this cagey shit. Tell us what’s going on.”
“Asher,” Hudson said. “Sylvain was right all along. Asher is in her head. He’s in all our heads, and he’s hurting her.”
“How do you know?” Briar asked. “I don’t remember…”
“I don’t know how he did it, but he’s been taking our memories and using them to get to you,” Hudson said. “But in taking our memories, he had to go in our heads, and when he did, he took you with him. You talked to me.”
What had Asher shown her? What hellish piece of their past had he shared? Marcus swallowed the anxiety welling in his throat.
“I don’t remember,” Briar repeated.
“Thank God for that,” Hudson answered.
“What did he show her?” Valen asked, his pale face illuminated by the moonlight. Marcus both wanted to know, and didn’t.
Hudson sat back against the wall, dragging Briar between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her and laced his fingers with hers. “One of the many battles we fought for him,” he answered.
Marcus turned away, rubbing his hand over the back of his head. What had she seen him do? How many people had she been witness to him murdering? And in what manner? “You don’t remember any of it?” he asked in a voice that barely sounded like his.
“No,” Briar answered, quietly. “But, Marcus, no matter what it was I saw, even if I do remember it, it won’t change the way I feel about you.”
Marcus snorted. “It very well might.”
“It couldn’t,” she reiterated.
He spun, approaching her quickly. Her eyes widened as she took in the set of his shoulders. What did she see when she examined him? He tried to wipe his face clean of emotion. “Our past is—”
“Not your place to tell her about,” Valen interrupted immediately. “Marcus, stop. If you want to tell her about you, fine. But leave us our stories.”
Briar bit her lip, and he caught the way her knuckles whitened as she squeezed Hudson’s hands. “Do you want to tell me now?” she asked. “So you can see that I won’t hate you? That my feelings for you run deeper than—”
“Deeper than what?” Marcus asked. “We barely know each other.”
Briar’s face paled, and he stood frozen in shock by the words that had escaped him. Fix it! his mind screamed at him, and inside him, his vampire twisted angrily. The pain he saw flash across Briar’s face made the vampire want to search and destroy whoever put that look there.
But it was him. You don’t deserve her.
“I know you,” she answered, her voice trembling. “I know who you are, Marcus. I may not know what you’ve done, but I see you. And you’re a good man.”
The words left him before he could stop himself. “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Briar. I’m not a man at all.” And with that, and the image of her hurt branded into his brain, he left.
“Marcus!” Valen yelled after him, but he ignored him.
Everything inside him hurt, and he couldn’t bear to see what he’d done. But she didn’t understand.
Yet.
If Asher had shown her the type of demon Marcus used to be, she’d understand all too soon that she never really saw him at all.