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“Ryan,” Lucius said. “There is no time to drive.”
He saw Doyle hesitate, and he saw the sharp jab of fear. Then Doyle glanced at Sara. He swallowed, then nodded. “Right,” he said. “No time.”
He turned then and faced the wall, his hands thrust out in concentration. The bones in his face seemed to shift, rolling beneath his skin, even as his eyes grew beady and red. His skin turned a pale orange, the color seeming to gather at his fingertips. He drew in a breath, then another, then whipped his arm in a circle, as if drawing upon the air.
In the wake of his hands, a hole opened, dark and black. He stepped inside, and the air mended itself, the hole disappearing.
“How long?” Lucius asked Tucker, who was staring slack-jawed at the place where his partner had disappeared.
“I have no idea.”
Lucius bit back a curse and knelt again at Sara’s side.
“Luke,” she whispered.
He clenched his teeth together, determined that she would not see the tears threatening his eyes or the fear that coursed through his veins. The memory of Livia was so close to the surface, his failure with her as fresh as if it were yesterday. And even if he did not fail again, he could not protect Sara from the darkness that would be released. That, she had to battle on her own.
“Safe,” she said. “With you … I’m safe.”
Her trust humbled him, and he thrust one hand into his pocket and pulled out Livia’s ring. The reminder of how he’d lost control. The talisman that had soothed him before he’d found Sara. It would, he hoped, protect them both now. He slipped it onto her little finger, then clasped his hand over it as Sara struggled to breathe.
“Not long now,” he said. “Not long, and you will be healed.”
“Dark.” A hint of panic tinged her weak voice. “It’s getting … so dark.”
Fear stabbed at him. Where the fuck was Doyle? “Hold on, Sara. Don’t leave me.”
Behind him, Tucker paced, his phone plastered to his ear. “Where the hell are you?” Tucker shouted. He turned to Luke. “Now. He’s doing it now.”
Even as Tucker spoke, the band around Lucius’s heart popped open. And as it dropped to the ground, Lucius leaned forward and sank his fangs deep into Sara’s throat.
ChapterThirty
She was his.
Sara. Her blood filled him. Primed him.Surprised him.
It gave him life and strength even as he drew the same from her. He had to take her to the edge—right to the edge, and no further. Too far, and she would slip away, unable to be turned. But pull back too quickly, and she would never recover, alive but damaged from the loss of blood, the loss of this sweet, tangy life that he now drew from her veins.
This was the connection he’d craved. That theAzag Mahruhad begged for, yearned for. The sharing. The connection. The blood. The serpent uncoiled as he fed, crowing with joy and need.
It wanted to consume her, to feel her life within him, to draw her to the surreal point of death and take and take and take some more.
“Luke,” Tucker yelled. “That’s enough. Luke! Pull back!”
Something tight and firm closed on his shoulder, but he ignored it, instead clutching Sara against him, her body trembling next to his, his mouth curved to her neck, the sweet smell of her skin filling him, arousing him. And the blood. By the gods, the taste of it, such sweet nectar that he would lose himself forever in the sweet, decadent delight.
“Luke! Stop!”
He could hear her heartbeat, its steady rhythm now spotty. Somewhere within, he realized he needed to stop, to pull back, and though he knew that, he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t push past the serpent. The lure of the blood was too intense, the pull of the darkness too strong. And then it was Sara inside his head, telling him to drink. To drink it all. To consume and live and glory in the allure of the blood.
Pater!
Pater, stop!
He froze. That voice—that cry offather—it belonged to Livia. His Livia. And the moment he realized that, his senses rushed back.
Sara.
