I tried to turn my face away, but he grasped my chin and forced my lips to his. I opened my mouth beneath his, my blood both searing hot and prickling cold as it coursed through my veins. His excitement fed my own. His sharp claws raked my back through my shirt, tracing the column of my spine. I couldn’t get enough of his tongue against mine, his breath against my lips.
He drew away, leaving me panting and flushed while he was as unaffected as someone who’d just received a dental exam. But when he lifted his hand to brush back a strand of his long, nearly white hair, his hands shook. “Believe that all you want, Carrie. But when you needed help, you didn’t call the Movement first. I wasn’t a last resort. I was a choice.”
My body shook with the violence of the truth.
We glared at each other in antagonistic silence until Dahlia entered. She cleared her throat at the doorway and shot me a murderous glance. “I’ve got your fucking antidote.” Cyrus reached out a hand to take the vial from her and she practically threw it at him. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and turned away. “Now, be a good girl and move your things to one of the servant’s rooms. Carrie will need the guest suite.”
I expected an outburst, but all she did was watch Cyrus. The full realization of his words—that I was usurping her place—hadn’t yet dawned on her. I didn’t want to be around when she made the connection.
Returning to my side, Cyrus slipped the vial into the palm of my hand. I stared hard at it. This was the price of my freedom. I could smash it on the floor and never have to come back.
“But you won’t.” He arched a knowing brow at my thought. “Your word means too much. You’ll take this to Nolen, see him safely recovered and return to me tomorrow night after sunset.”
“How do I know this won’t do him more harm?” I called to Dahlia. I don’t think she even saw me, though she looked right at me.
Cyrus drew my attention back. “It won’t. She knows what will happen if she’s lied.”
She broke then, her back shaking with muted sobs as she covered her face with one hand. I’d never seen anyone cry so gracefully, and I’d seen plenty of tears in my life. But Cyrus didn’t seem to notice. He kissed my forehead and gave me a push toward the door. “Go now, the sun will be up soon.”
He didn’t follow me. I hesitated as I passed Dahlia. I don’t know if I meant to offer comfort or rub salt in her wounds, but when she looked up with hate-filled eyes, I kept walking.
The foyer blazed with light as bulbs crackled and shattered with the force of Dahlia’s anger.
“Sunset,” Cyrus called after me. “Don’t make me come get you.”
Nine
Antidote
I left the house as a shower of sparks exploded from the electric fixtures in the foyer. This time, I did run down the lawn, but only to buy us a little time. With no knowledge of how Nathan would react to the antidote, I wanted to get him to a safe place before it took effect.
Ziggy had left the driver’s seat, presumably to tend to Nathan. I pounded on the back doors and stepped away as they flew open. Ziggy crouched over Nathan’s body, a wooden stake aimed straight for my heart.
When he recognized me, he dropped the weapon. “Sorry. Can’t be too careful.”
“It’s all right,” I grunted, pulling the doors closed behind me as I climbed into the van. “How is he?”
“Alive, but that’s not saying much. What’d you find out?”
I showed him the antidote, which gleamed a muddy blue in the glass vial. “Drive. I’ll pour it down his throat, and hopefully it won’t kick in until we’re back at the apartment.”
“What do you mean?” Ziggy pulled the canvas partition back and slid behind the wheel.
“Because I have no idea what it’s going to do to him.”
As the engine sputtered to life, I carefully made my way to Nathan’s head. The van lurched away from the curb, tossing me flat across his chest.
The contact was sudden and startling. Even unconscious, with no blood tie connecting us, I was still attracted to him. Despite the fact he’d lied about his identity. Or that he didn’t tell me he was vampiricly related to my sire. I reminded myself of what I’d sacrificed for this favor.
I opened the vial and poured the contents into his half-open mouth. I hope it tastes terrible, I thought with a petulant frown. Then I rocked back on my heels and waited. Why had I done this? When I’d set out to help him, I’d felt I’d been doing it for a friend. And when I found I barely knew him after all, I still plowed on ahead.
I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that Cyrus might have been right. Nathan’s—or Nolen’s—predicament could have been handled by the Movement, but my first instinct had been to run to my sire.
I knelt over Nathan and felt for a pulse. Nothing. No breath. No reflexes.
Defeated, I lay down next to him, out of necessity more than familiarity. My body ached with fatigue. My emotions were a mess. The one person I’d thought I was safe with, well, not safe exactly, but safer, wasn’t who I’d believed him to be. That he was dead was icing on the worst cake in history. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I tried to cry without Ziggy hearing me.
Then, like a miracle, Nathan groaned and mumbled something that sounded like “get off” as he swatted at me. He gagged and choked, sputtering a little of the antidote over the front of his shirt. But he’d swallowed enough. He was alive.
I sat up in shock. “I thought you were dead!”
“I wish I were,” he said when he could finally speak. He rose on his elbows and clutched his head. “What happened?”
“We were…” I paused. “Um, what’s the last thing you remember?”
His answering grin made my face grow hot.
“Well, you just suddenly sort of passed out.”
He rubbed his temples. “Why would I go and do something stupid like that?”
“You didn’t. Dahlia did.”
He flopped back onto the goldenrod shag carpeting and closed his eyes. “We’re in the van?”
“Yeah, we had to get you out of the building. It was kind of…” I trailed off as I tried to tell him his livelihood was gone.
“On fucking fire!” Ziggy supplied from the front seat. “Oh, man, am I glad you’re awake.”
An angry car horn pulled his attention back to the road as the van swerved violently. I sunk my fingers into the dirty carpet. It was the only thing to hold on to.
“Ziggy! Eyes on the road!” Nathan commanded, though his voice was still a little weak. He turned back to me. “The building is gone?”
I shifted uneasily. “Maybe not. The fire trucks were showing up just as we left.”
“Great. Just great.” He covered his face with his hands, and I saw the hard muscles of his stomach shake beneath his T-shirt. I really hoped he wasn’t crying. But in the next instant, delirious laughter poured out of him.
“What’s so funny?” He was taking this far too well.
“Nothing, nothing.” He rubbed his hands down his cheeks, stretching the stubble-dusted skin. “You know, up until about a month ago, things were completely normal in my life. All it takes is one fax from the Movement, and I’m knee-deep in chaos again.” Nathan sighed. “So, Dahlia attacked me. She’s never done that before.”
“She was trying to do Cyrus a favor,” I told him.
“Okay, folks,” Ziggy called as