“She says you’re wrong. It’s more complicated than that. We can trust Gabe, and if she needs someone to feed from her—”
“No. No, not him.”
“How long can she last, Antoine?”
There was no answer to that. No one knew. And they wouldn’t, either—not until it was too late.“Get her out of here, goddammit. Stop tormenting me by dangling something I can never have.”
Cally froze then nodded in reluctant acceptance, muttering a few silent words.
“Fine, we’ll go. But we’re coming back, and we’re going to get you out.”
Antoine closed the link to Noah’s eyes, and shut his own, like that would make any difference.“Leave me.”
He floated in the darkness, resenting her for coming. Hating himself. Hating Gabe. Hating Noah, for bringing her.
Noah made no attempt to mind-speak to him again, and the sense of his presence faded with distance.
Taking Cally away.
“Noah? My mind, it’s… I didn’t mean it. Noah?”
Why had he sent her away?
“Bring her back. Noah? Noah!”
No. Please.
“Noah! Noah! Noah!”
Thirteen
Boston, Massachusetts, Present Day.
How long do I have?
Every morning, Cally woke with the same question. Every night, it was the last thought on her mind.
Five days had passed since she and Noah visited Antoine again. Two weeks since he’d been entombed.
Two weeks since he’d lain beside her, in this very bed.
Gabe had said a fortnight had been the longest any vampire had ever gone without blood, and that was without the constant torture he was under, which both Gabe and Noah agreed would increase Antoine’s need.
He’d be feral by now.
Would that madness deepen his torment, or grant him some dissociative peace?
If two weeks was the limit of a vampire, was it also her limit?
Someone tentatively knocked on her door, but Cally knew who it was. No one else around here knocked like that.
“Come in, Eve.” She sat up in the bed and leaned back against the headboard.
The door opened and Eve walked in, a steaming cup in each hand. “Lazy Saturday morning, coffee in bed?”
“Sounds good.” Cally took the offered mug and inhaled the rousing scent, while Eve perched on the edge of the bed. “What are you doing today?”
“Same old.” Eve took a sip. “The fake IDs came through yesterday. Ryan’s been amazing, leading all of Gabe’s thralls on this. Alvin’s stored at McLean Labs, a service facility with no water access. The eighteen-wheeler with a lowboy trailer was theeasy bit.” She shook her head. “Ryan’s working on acquiring a converted fishing trawler out of Newport that’s now a private research vessel. Something to carry her out. We still need a private dock to load up, and a heap of bright orange uniforms. But we’re getting there.”
