Bound by Night

Page 15

“Only if you share some of your knowledge with me,” Grant said.

“Deal,” she agreed, but she doubted they’d get the opportunity to do either. “Now I’m wondering if the VR- enzyme might have something to do with the way some vampires come out of the turning half-insane.”

Grant gave her a strange look. “Some things can’t be explained by science.”

“I’m surprised to hear you say that, being a scientist.”

He jammed his hands in his lab coat’s pockets. “A couple of decades ago, I’d have agreed. But I’ve seen things since being turned that defy science.”

She didn’t know about the defy science thing, but since being kidnapped by Riker she’d experienced things that defied belief. Like kissing not just a vampire, but the very vampire who had haunted her nightmares for years. Worse, something inside her wanted to do it again, to see if it would be as good the second time as it was the first.

Yup. Defied belief.

Giving herself a mental shake, she jumped back into the conversation. “It would help if we knew the exact origins of the vampire species. We think the first case of vampirism started around four hundred years ago, here in America, but we don’t know where the virus came from, if it was originally airborne—”

Grant took a sip of his purple concoction and grimaced. “You know the vampire legend of their origins, yes?”

“Yes, but the legend is ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

He had to be kidding. “Two Native American tribal chiefs kill each other, and then a crow and a raven fight over their bodies, spilling their blood into the men, who afterward rise that night as undead? Um, yes. Ridiculous.”

“Some vampires agree with you. Mostly the turned ones. There are also rumors of demons creating the first vampires, but if they are so much as whispered inside these walls, Hunter will shut them down with rare temper.”

She smiled politely. “When I see demon DNA,

I’ll believe it. Until then, I’m going with the natural— virus theory. If something supernatural was the cause, we’d see vampires with unexplained abilities. Instead of vampires with enhanced natural abilities, like super— speed, we’d see invisibility. Teleportation. Telekinesis. Shapeshifting.”

“Ah. But how many born vampires have you studied? They have rarer and more powerful abilities than turned vampires. Imagine what gifts the oldest, purestvampires must possess. And there have  always been rumors of vampires who can do all of the supernatural abilities you mentioned.”

“Rumors. There are also people who believe the earth is flat. People will always believe in things that don’t make sense.” She skimmed her fingers over the microscope like it was an old friend. “And there are scientific explanations about why that is, as well.”

“You remind me so much of me.” He sighed. “I hope Hunter doesn’t kill you.”

Er, yeah. She hoped so, too.

The door banged open, and her heart stuttered as Riker entered with another vampire.

The new vampire, a tall, broad male with an amazing mane of blue-black hair, strolled toward her. He was dressed like Riker, in jeans and a T-shirt, but that was where the similarities ended.

His ebony gaze marked him as a born vampire, and, like so many borns, his Native American ancestry was obvious in his bronze skin and the powerful, chiseled bone structure of select prairie tribes. An aura of ancient energy practically vibrated off him, and she’d bet her entire company that he was either an original vampire— one of the first humans who contracted the virus—or from a first-or second-generation mating. God, how she’d love to study him. Question him. Get some insight into their mysterious origins that had stumped scientists since vampires were first discovered.

But the raven and crow story was ludicrous. Almost as ludicrous as the demon theory.

“You’re Dr. Nicole Martin.” It wasn’t a question.

Hell, it sounded like a threat. How could something as simple as her name sound like he’d said, You’re dead.

Anxiety dried her mouth to dust. “I am. Nicole, I mean.” Wow. Way to babble.

Grant rounded on her, knocking tubes of kool-Aid all over the counter and floor. “You’re a f**king Martin?”

She casually inched closer to Riker. “I’m the surviving daughter you want to kill.”

“Huh.” Grant went back to his project, righting test tubes and wiping up spilled liquid.

Okaaay. So not the reaction she’d been expecting.

He was the most unpredictable person she’d ever met.

“Say the same thing to me,” the new vampire rumbled, “and you’ll get a much different response.”

He smiled, revealing fangs that were twice as large as

Riker’s. Those things would hurt. “We need to talk.”

“Who are you?” She looked to Riker for help, but the vampire who had confided in her about his mate and child, who had saved her from poachers and handled her with such care, was gone, replaced by a stone— faced hardass with cold eyes.

“He’s our chief.” Riker’s tone was all business, and disappointment cut deep. She wanted the Riker from earlier. With that Riker, she’d felt almost comfortable.

This one frightened her almost as much as he had when he’d kidnapped her from her home. “Name’s Hunter.”

Hunter stepped into her, so close she could smell smoky whiskey on his breath, and panic fluttered in her belly. He was blocking her view of Riker, using his size to intimidate her. It worked. She felt small.

Trapped. And excruciatingly aware of how disheveled and dirty she was.

“Riker has told you why we need you?”

This guy didn’t strike her as the type to mess around, and she wasn’t naive enough to think that any friendly inroads she’d made with Riker would extend to the clan leader. She had to be careful if she wanted to make it out of this alive.

Craning her neck, she met his steady gaze. “I’ve already agreed to do everything in my power to find and release the female vampire you think my company is holding.”

“We don’t think,” he growled. “We know.”

It was probably stupid of her, but she was still clinging to the tiniest speck of hope that they were wrong, that Daedalus hadn’t been skirting laws to acquire vampires.

“I said I’d help,” she repeated.

“She’s already helped,” Grant chimed in. “She seems to have an advanced working knowledge of our biology. Can I have her when you’re done? We don’t have to kill her right away, do we?”

She let out a ridiculous mousy squeak. “You know, I’m standing right here while you casually discuss my death.”

Riker moved into her line of vision, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit to herself that she was relieved. “No one is going to die.”

An unreadable look passed between Hunter and Riker, and a sudden, tangible tension crackled in the air.

“Look,” she said quickly, hoping to defuse the friction, “I want to get Neriya back and make sure Lucy

is safe. I’ll do whatever it takes, I promise.” Figuring

she had little to lose, she adopted her best CEO voice.

“But here’s the thing. You need me, so I’d like a little assurance that you’ll release me when it’s done.”

Nicole was pretty certain Hunter would refuse.

So she was totally shocked when he stepped back and said, “You have my word. Riker will take care of you.

Speaking of which, Rike, while you were showering, I had a chamber prepared for her. Down the hall from yours.”

For one glorious moment, relief gave Nicole a new lease on life. Hopefully a chamber of her own meant a shower and a bed.

Then she glanced over at Riker.

He looked both troubled and pissed, and once again, she wondered just how long she had left to live.

Chapter 14

Riker will take care of you.

Yeah, Riker knew exactly what Hunter meant.

Taking care of humans had never been a problem for Riker before. And it shouldn’t be a problem now. But son of a bitch, Nicole had gotten under his skin.

She’d saved his life, shown vulnerability and remorse over Terese’s death, and charmed him with her odd origami habit. And in return, like an idiot, he’d told this female things he’d never told anyone. No one in the clan knew that the baby Terese had carried wasn’t his. No one knew she’d killed herself.

Somehow, despite all the trouble Nicole had caused him, he’d confi ded in her. He’d laughed with her. And he’d gotten hard for her.

“Are we done here?” Riker asked Hunter.

Hunter gave an almost imperceptible nod and swung around to Grant, letting Riker know he was dismissed. “Nicole,” he said, almost as an afterthought and in a cheerful voice that made Riker’s hair stand on end, “I look forward to having a more . . . in-depth session with you.”

Before she could reply, Riker took her by the arm and hauled her out of there. She went willingly. Eagerly, really.

“Thanks.” Her boots thumped softly on the stone floor as they walked down the hall, her slender legs in  perfect sync with his long strides. “Things were kind of tense back there.”

Kind of? Hunter was in one of the worst moods

Riker had ever seen. Oh, he’d seen Hunter angrier, in full-blown, unreachable rages. But this was Hunter at his worst—or best, depending on which side you were on. The cold fury that started with Neriya’s abduction and ended with Lucy’s kidnapping was gathering deep inside him. It was the kind that rolled over everyone, including those he cared about.

Riker did not want to be in his path.

He steered the conversation away from his clan chief. “Did Grant bother you?”

“Not really. You were right about him—moments of confusion punctuated by spurts of lucidity.” Her hair, full of soft waves, brushed her shredded turtleneck as she shook her head. The wild, windblown bob looked good on her. Much better than the severe, straight, hairsprayed-to-hell way she’d had it when he took her from her mansion. “It was your chief. Intense guy.”

So much for his attempt to not discuss Hunter.

“Talk about your moments of confusion and spurts of lucidity.”

“Seriously?” She rubbed her arms, and he made a mental note to get her some warmer clothes. He also made a mental note to stop staring at her br**sts when she did that. “He’s unbalanced, too?”

He waited to speak until a trio of females passed them in the hallway. “Some might say so, but nah, he’s the sanest male I know. He just has a tendency not to take things as seriously as some think he should.”

“Some. Like you?”

She’d hit that stake on the head. For a human, she was pretty astute. He didn’t answer that, though; clan business was none of hers.

“How are you feeling?” He didn’t like that she still hadn’t regained all the color she’d lost when she’d gotten ill in the cave. “Is there anything specific I can get you to eat or drink that’ll help your condition?”

“Oh, um, yes.” She stepped toward him to avoid being flattened by two males tossing a football as they ran through the passage.

“Hey, ass**les!” Riker barked. “We have a common room for that. Not to mention a million acres of forest.” As the guys sheepishly offered apologies, Riker turned back to Nicole. “Go on. What can I get for you?”

“Low-iron, low-carb foods. As the iron builds in my blood, my pancreas is going to get wacky with the insulin.” She chewed her lip a little. “There are other issues that the medication handles, but they’ll take a lot longer to kill me.”

This was a complication they didn’t need. The sooner they got Neriya, the sooner . . . what? The sooner Nicole would be released so she could use the knowledge she’d gained to destroy them? Or the sooner they’d kill her to protect themselves?

Fuck. This was a lose-lose situation. He thought back to his military days and all the no-win situations he’d been thrust into. Somehow he’d come out of them alive. But not everyone had. No-win scenarios always resulted in someone’s death.

Like Jesse and Steve, both of whom he’d been close with since basic training. They’d all been together when they’d walked into the building at Fair child Air Force Base for what he’d believed would be  a briefing. Instead, they’d been sedated with drugged water and fed to vampires. Riker would never forget the next couple of weeks of torment as his body changed, his muscles, bones, and organs altering painfully fast. Gnawing hunger had nearly torn him apart as he threw up everything he’d been given to eat. The first bag of blood someone had thrown into his cell had been the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Until he threw that up, too.

But the worst . . . the worst had been finding Jesse dead on the floor, his body cold and contorted in agony.

He hadn’t survived the turning, and Riker’s sorrow had been magnified by the fact that Steve had survived, but he wasn’t himself. Vicious and angry, Steve been almost uncontrollable, ’roid rage times a million.

A year later, he’d died, too.

At Hunter’s hand.

“Riker?” Nicole tapped on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Right. They’d been talking about her diet. “I’ll get one of our cooks on it,” he said brusquely.

“You have cooks?”

“Everyone here has a job. Just like humans. And we eat normal food. Just like humans.” Shrugging off her startled glance at his abrupt reply, he guided her to his quarters and pushed open the heavy wood door.

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