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Saint squeezed his eyes closed. Grief crushed his heart. This whole gods-be-damned world thrived on suffering. Why did Octavius want to save it, when living meant hurting? He couldn’t condemn Jay to this. A forever sentence, in which madness never completely faded.
Another shot rang out, likely Raiden fighting Octavius.
Raiden had known to target their weakness. But Jay had been their strength, the linchpin holding them together.
“Don’t leave us,” he whispered against Jay’s lips, stroking his face, his hair, silently urging him to hold on. If Saint lost Jay, he’d lose Octavius too, and alone again, he just might lose his mind.
Saint didn’t have Octavius’s ability to get inside someone’s head and demand they live. He only had hope, and hope alone had never been enough. He’d hoped Mikalis would see he’d never meant to hurt him, he’d hoped he’d one day see the outside of his prison bars, he’d hoped the world would be different. But it was just the same torture over and over.
He wished he knew what he’d done that was so wrong that he deserved to have each love stripped from him.
“You have to go!” Octavius was here, racing toward them, dripping water and smelling of wet earth and blood. “The Brotherhood…” He stopped beside them. “Gods, no! You said you had this, you said—!”
“We can’t save him.” Saint’s heart was numb. He still stroked Jay’s face, listened to his shallow breaths. He was passing. It wouldn’t be long now. Saint had witnessed a thousand deaths, but none gouged out his heart like this one.
Octavius’s hand landed on his shoulder. Saint turned his head. Octavius’s face was all bloody, his white hair streaked with mud, his clothes stained and torn. But the sadness and regret in his eyes said it all. He hadn’t killed Raiden. And Saint didn’t even care.
Octavius raised his right wrist to his lips.
Saint shook his head. “Don’t.”
His glacial eyes softened. He lowered his arm again and gazed at Jay. “We can’t let him die.”
“Yes, we can.” Saint’s voice creaked. Octavius looked at him as though he’d been betrayed and shoved himself away.
“It might not turn him. He’s only consumed my blood once.”
It was more than that. Blood was a large part of the turn, but so was intimacy. Octavius could not deny they’d been intimate, when he’d had to take blood from Jay to replenish himself while healing Saint.
“You said some nyks aren’t rabid when they turn. Maybe he won’t be? We could nurture him?”
“We’d need time and space, somewhere to truly care for him. And even if the conditions are right, it still takes months to tame a new nyktelios.” Saint could hear the approaching helicopter blades.
The Brotherhood was here to kill them.
“So, you’re just going to let him die?” Octavius paced and thrust his hands into his hair. “I can force you,demandyou do it.
“But you won’t.”
“He asked me… He asked me to turn him, to make him nyk.”
That was news to Saint, but it changed nothing. “You refused.”
He paced some more, back and forth, leaving little pools of water on the floor. “Fuck! The Brotherhood is coming.Youneed to go. They will kill you and I can’t fight them, Saint. One, maybe, but Raiden weakened me.” His voice cracked. “I’m so fuckin’ tired of running.”
Saint reached out mentally for any sign of Mikalis, but nothing came back. Not even a distant point of knowing, like he’d always had. Nothing. Just a hole where his sire used to be. “Mikalis isn’t with them.”
“That’s something… He’ll never forgive what I did to him. None of them will. We’re so fucked.”
“Who is fucked?” Jay croaked.
Saint pulled his hands back from Jay’s face and sat bolt-upright, still straddling him. Jay’s heart thumped, stronger than ever. He yawned and blinked a few times. “How…” Saint mumbled. This wasn’t possible.
“Jay?” Octavius shot to their side. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, I guess, tired, and my legs are numb.” He side-eyed Saint.
Saint looked down, saw he was crushing his thighs, and scrambled off. Gods, he was weak and giddy with relief.
