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He was supposed to help save my life. He was my beacon of hope. My beacon of hope was now dead as a doornail.
The ear-piercing alarm made it difficult to think. I pushed myself up to my feet and frantically scanned the room, attempting to get my bearings. White walls, gray linoleum floor, empty metal chair, and stainless steel examination table to my right.
Declan lay on the opposite side of the room. From a distance, I couldn’t tell if he was still breathing. There was blood—an alarming amount of it.
Stumbling, I ran to his side and fell bruisingly hard to my knees next to him.
“Declan!” I could barely hear my panicked voice above the sound of the alarm. “You’re not dead. Not like this. You can’t be dead. Please...please wake up!”
For a long, tortuous moment there was no reaction at all. But then his chest hitched and he finally opened his eye to meet my gaze.
“Jill...” he rasped out. “You need to get out of here. Now. Get out and run as fast and as far as you can to somewhere safe.”
I nodded. “You’re reading my mind. Come on...” I grabbed hold of his muscled arm. “Get up and let’s get the hell out of here.”
He shook his head. “No, leave me. Save yourself.”
“Not going to happen.” I hissed out a breath. “Stop being a bad movie cliché and get on your feet. I’m not going anywhere without you.”
His jaw clenched. “I’m hurt.”
“Clearly. But you’ll heal up nice and quick like the strong and healthy dhampyr you are. I’d be happy to throw some water on you to help speed up the process. I’m practically an expert on dhampyr first aid after my crash course, remember?”
“You’re not listening to me, Jill. Go find Jackson. He’ll help you get out of here, and then—”
“No, you’re not listening tome,Declan.” This wasn’t an ideal time to argue with a stubborn alpha male, but I didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. “We got into this mess together and that’s the same way we’re getting out.”
He glared up at me. “Jill...”
“I’m not leaving without you. If you’re going to just give up and die right here, that means I am, too. So if you really want me to live to see another day, then you’re going to have to do the same thing. Do you understand me?”
His eye narrowed before he finally answered. “Fine. Help me up, damn it.”
I’d take my victories where I could get them.
“That’s more like it,” I said.
I grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet as much as I could, considering I was a full foot shorter than him. He leaned his nearly six and a half feet of solid muscle against me. His gaze moved toward Dr. Reynolds and the growing pool of blood forming a wet, red halo around the dead man’s head.
“You know what this means,” Declan said grimly.
“Yeah,” I replied. “It means I’m definitely going to die. But it won’t be here. And it won’t be now.”
“I’m still feeling the tranq effects,” he growled, and I had to strain to hear him over the loud alarm. “That’s going to make this harder. And I don’t have my stake. Lawrence must have taken it.”
One look at Declan’s current injuries confirmed to me that he’d briefly fought with Lawrence and lost. Several deep knife wounds were in the process of healing. He wasn’t dead, and for that, I was eternally grateful.
“I just got knocked unconscious and I’m pretty sure I have a concussion,” I said. “But let’s try to stay positive, okay?”
“You go ahead and do that. I’m going to be a realist.”
“And what does your realist self tell you?”
“It tells me that I’m in rough shape and healing slower than I’d like.” Declan’s grip on me tightened. “My phone’s set to vibrate—someone’s calling. My arm’s too messed up right now. Grab it.”
Without thinking twice, I slipped my hand into the inner pocket of Declan’s jacket and took out his phone, stabbing at the answer button and holding it to my ear.
“Yeah?” I yelled loud enough to be heard over the alarm.
