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“The new serum is . . .”
“Holding strong. Much better than before.”
Better.It wasn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe the experimental drug he’d been pumped full of a week ago.
His now-deceased adoptive father, Carson Reyes, had been very concerned about Declan’s dhampyr nature. So much so that he’d developed a special serum that had to be injected every three hours since Declan was a child. This serum was meant to curb any vampiric tendencies he might have—violence, bloodlust, erratic behavior of any kind. The serum also restrained his emotions so much that he appeared to have none. This made him the perfect weapon who could follow orders to the letter and not give his father or anyone else any problems. He’d been an effective killing machine who felt nothing apart from getting the job done.
Shortly after he’d met me he’d been forced to stop taking his serum regularly when it was stolen. I’d been worried that the need for blood might overwhelm him, but it hadn’t. Instead, I’d met a different Declan, one who felt emotions strongly and wanted more from life than merely being a blunt instrument sent out to kill monsters.
Carson was still convinced he was right, that dhampyrs like Declan were dangerous and unpredictable. He’d been developing another serum—one that was meant to be permanent. He’d forcibly injected Declan with it, hoping it would save his son from giving in to any bloodlust. Ever. But that also meant that his emotions—including love, compassion, and sexual desire—would be permanently dampened.
I needed answers. “I’m going to check the bar one more time.”
Declan shook his head. “Not a good idea.”
I felt the resolve flow through me. It helped me to ignore the stinging pain from the vampire’s bite. “Five minutes, I swear. Wait for me here.”
“Jill, no—”
Before he could stop me, I turned and quickly reentered the dark and musty interior of Ravenous. Keeping a close eye on my surroundings, wary of anyone who looked suspicious—and, admittedly, a lot of people did—I made a beeline to the bar where I’d been sitting earlier. The newspaper I’d been flipping through still lay closed on the scarred wooden bar top. On the top of page twenty-two, I’d seen a small black-and-white picture of me and a heartfelt plea from Susan, my sister, asking anyone who knew my whereabouts to please contact the police immediately.
I forced myself to look away from the newspaper toward the bartender.
“Have you seen a guy in here tonight?” My words came out in a rush. “Early twenties, about five-ten, sort of thin. Light brown hair. Looks a bit like a frat boy?”
He eyed me as he ran a wet rag along the countertop. “Not a lot of frat boys come in here.”
I hissed out a sigh of frustration.
“But, yeah, I think I’ve seen the guy you’re looking for.”
My breath caught in my chest. “Really? Where?”
His gaze moved over my shoulder. “Right behind you.”
I spun around to see Noah standing ten feet away after coming out of the restroom on the right side of the club.
A wide smile spread across his boyish features and he closed the distance between us in a few steps. “Jill, I wasn’t sure if you were here or not.”
I hadn’t realized until this very moment how incredibly worried I’d been that he was hurt . . . or worse. The last time I’d seen him he’d been recovering from a bullet wound.
“Where the hell were you?” I asked. “You said you’d be here over a half hour ago.”
Noah’s smile widened. “Good to see you, too.”
I hugged him tightly. “I thought you were dead.”
“I’m not. But, ouch.” He flinched. “Be careful. I’m still recuperating.”
“Sorry.” I released him, and he placed a hand over his chest wound hidden under his dark blue shirt.
“Don’t worry about it.” His amiable expression faded and he touched my face. “You look like hell.”
I’d take it as an insult if he didn’t look so concerned. “I feel better than I look, believe it or not.”
“You’re paler than last time I saw you. Maybe it’s just the new hair color. I mean, don’t get me wrong. You’re still hot. You’re a hot chick who looks like she hasn’t slept in about a decade.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I’ll go heavier on the under-eye concealer the next time I enter polite society. Promise.”
