Appearances could be so deceiving.
“Of course.” Malcolm smiled. His fangs glinted. “I’m not desperate for her blood like the others, so I should just let her go. It’s the right thing to do.” His fingers were wrapped around Sabine’s neck. “But fuck the right thing.”
He snapped her neck.
“I never gave a shit about right,” Malcolm said. “Not after my change, and, sorry to ruin this for you, brother, but not before, either.”
He had a stake in his hand.
The broken neck . . . that wouldn’t have killed Sabine. Ryder rushed forward. She’d recover from the break. She’d recover.
But not if his bastard of a brother staked her.
He grabbed Sabine’s hand. Yanked her body away from Malcolm. When he turned to shield her with his body, Ryder felt strong fingers close over his neck.
“You love her.”
Carefully, because her broken neck hadn’t healed yet, Ryder lowered Sabine to the floor. Cassie gave a wild cry and rushed toward her.
When Ryder stood, Malcolm moved in a flash and put the stake right over his heart.
“I didn’t think you could love. I thought you were like me.” Now Malcolm sounded disappointed. But he’d made a mistake. He hadn’t attacked when he’d had the chance.
“I used to think that I was just like you,” Ryder told him. “But then I realized I wasn’t broken.”
The tip of the stake pushed into his skin, drawing blood.
“They buried me. I wasn’t dead. I could feel everything. Do you know what the worms and insects did to me?”
Ryder’s jaw locked. “You’d lost your head. You were staked.” He should have been dead.
“It takes more than a stake to kill you and me. Let me show you.” Then Malcolm shoved forward with that stake.
Only . . .
Ryder’s hand flew up. He stopped the wood before it could do more than—fuck me—press against his heart. The pain pulsed through him, burning and white-hot.
Malcolm’s eyes widened in surprise. He tried to push down with the wood. “You’re . . . stronger.”
“I was always stronger.”
He heard a gasp behind him. Sabine. Coming back to him. Healing. Bones cracked.
Ryder yanked the stake from his chest. Malcolm jumped back and gazed at him with furious, desperate eyes.
“None of this was my choice!” Malcolm bellowed. “You should have let me die with the rest of our family. It wasn’t your call to make! You should have let me die then!”
Ryder nodded. “Yes, I should have.” Malcolm’s words were so familiar to him. His head cocked even as the blood continued to pour from his chest. “Julia,” he murmured, understanding so much more now.
Malcolm smiled.
“You’re the one,” Ryder said with a slow nod. “You wanted them to take me out.”
“I wanted you to wind up in hell, with me,” Malcolm snarled back. “Those Genesis bastards found me. They took my blood and kept me prisoner in their cells for years.”
Ryder stared at him. When he looked hard enough, he could almost see the brother that Malcolm had once been, back when they were both still human.
I never gave a shit about right. Not after my change, and, sorry to ruin this for you, brother, but not before, either.
But maybe he’d never even known him then.
“I told them about you,” Malcolm confessed. “Told them that if they wanted real power”—his lips twisted—“then they wanted you.”
And Genesis had begun hunting him.
Vaughn was yelling behind them and still thrashing against his bars.
“Ryder?” Sabine whispered.
He eased out a slow breath. “Richard Wyatt kept us both at the same—”
“You’re not listening!” Malcolm yelled at him. His brother’s face flushed. “I said . . . years. Richard was just a whelp when they brought me in to Genesis. It wasn’t him. It was the old guy who found me. His father. That’s the asshole who dug me up. I thought he was going to help me. Stop the pain. He just made it worse.”
Ryder saw that his brother’s hands were shaking.
Malcolm lifted his hands and pressed them against his temples. “Everything makes it worse.”
A soft hand curled around Ryder’s wrist. Ryder didn’t look at Sabine. He couldn’t. Malcolm had already tried to use her against him once. “Go to the other room, Sabine.”
Malcolm’s hands dropped. “So she doesn’t see you clean up this mess? So she doesn’t see you kill the primal? Kill the human?” He pointed toward a frozen Keith. “And drain the doc?” He tossed a glare toward Cassie.
Cassie was crying. Tears trickled down her cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound.
“And after you dispatch all of them, you’ll have to kill me. But a stake didn’t work before. A beheading didn’t. What else can you try?” Malcolm seemed mildly curious.
Fire. “I think I have a few options,” Ryder said as he rolled his shoulders. There would be no room for emotion here. No sympathy could stir in his heart.
Do you know what the worms and insects did?
“Go, Sabine,” he urged and pushed her away. Pushed her away, when he wanted to pull her close. To make certain that she was whole and healed.
Her steps were hesitant.
But just as she reached the door, Malcolm spoke again. “Do you think Keith is the only human I . . . sampled?”
Hell.
“Sabine.”
She stopped at the door.
“What did you do?” Cassie whispered, her voice hoarse. “Why?”
Malcolm shrugged. “It’s good to hedge your bets. And I have always enjoyed being in control of my own little army.” His arms lifted and spread around him. “I’ve been building my army for quite a while. After all, I was in Genesis for over twenty-five years.”
Fuck.
“But . . . you were a primal,” Cassie said, swiping at the tears on her face. She came closer to them, with slow, hesitant steps. “You weren’t in control. You only knew the hunger.”
Malcolm turned his stare on her. “A mindless beast.”
She flinched.
“Isn’t that what I was supposed to be?” Malcolm growled at her.
“It’s what the others were . . .”
“The others were made from my blood. Humans, who thought that they could become bigger, better warriors with some vampire blood and DNA thrown into the mix. I made them. Me. They just couldn’t handle my power.”
“B-but . . . I found you . . . in that cage . . . you looked just like the others.”
Ryder knew she had to be talking about the black claws. The mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.
“You mean . . . I looked like this?” Malcolm’s head bowed. His body convulsed. Shuddered.
“The tears . . . They healed you!” Cassie cried out.
Malcolm’s head lifted. His eyes were pitch-black. His teeth—hello, mouthful of fucking fangs. When Malcolm raised his hands, Ryder wasn’t surprised to see the flash of black claws.
“I can change anytime I want.” Malcolm jumped forward, moving lightning-fast. His claws wrapped around Cassie’s neck and he hauled her against him. “I told you, I made them. My blood. Genesis wanted to play with genetics and mutations, but before they even started experimenting on humans, they first played with me.”
And his brother had become even more of a monster.
“Old Man Wyatt tried to punch up the vampire evolution.” Malcolm’s hold tightened on Cassie. “The scientists understood what I could be. How strong. How deadly. But I could change back, any fucking time I wanted.”
From the corner of his eye, Ryder saw Sabine crouch and pick up a chunk of wood.
Vaughn was still screaming. Snarling.
“After they experimented on the humans, they realized—too late—that they couldn’t change back.” He bent his head and licked Cassie’s neck. She held herself statue-still within his arms, eyes stricken and terrified. “They c
ouldn’t do anything because they weren’t strong enough. They weren’t like me.”
Or me. Ryder realized as he stared at Malcolm. No wonder Richard Wyatt had been so desperate for his blood. Malcolm’s blood had sent the test subjects straight to hell. Richard must have thought that an infusion of blood from the first vampire—untainted blood—could help them.
He’d been wrong, so Richard’s only option had been . . .
Ryder’s gaze jumped to Sabine. She’d hidden the stake behind her back.
The tears of a phoenix.
“I made my army,” Malcolm said, as he looked up to smirk at Ryder. “One victim at a time. I controlled the humans. Even from inside my prison at Genesis, I sent the humans out to find vampires who would aid me.”
Vamps who would be willing to turn on me. Ryder stared back at his brother and didn’t allow any emotion to show on his face.
“When my army was strong enough, when I knew Genesis had you,” Malcolm continued, “I escaped.”
By acting like a victim. By using Cassie.
He hadn’t realized his brother was such a damn good actor.
“I’ve been wanting to taste you for a while,” Malcolm muttered as his mouth lowered near Cassie’s throat once more. “There were always too many cameras on us. Too many watching you so closely.”
Ryder saw Cassie’s eyes. The fear faded and gave way to . . . satisfaction? But when Cassie spoke, her voice trembled. “Don’t,” she said. “Please.”
Maybe his brother wasn’t the only good actor in the room.
Malcolm sank his fangs into her throat.
Sabine screamed and ran forward, with her stake clutched tightly in her hands. “Leave her alone! No more! No more!”
But Ryder grabbed Sabine around the waist and hauled her back. He held her against his chest.
She didn’t need to save Cassie. Malcolm was already shoving the doctor away and trying to spit out her blood.
His claws retracted. His mouthful of fangs vanished.
“Surprise, surprise,” Cassie said, her voice sad. “I’m not what you thought, either, bastard.”
Malcolm stared at her with horror blazing in his eyes. Blood dripped from his chin.
And then he fell to the floor, his body frozen, apparently stone-cold dead.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ryder’s hands were like steel bands around Sabine’s stomach. Her neck ached and fury clawed at her gut.
And Malcolm was dead?
“You’re like Richard Wyatt.” Ryder’s voice came out, low and deadly, from behind her.
Cassie gave them a sad smile, even as her gaze dipped back to Malcolm’s still figure. “No, Richard’s blood contained a diluted poison. Mine is much more potent, as you can see.”
Poison? In the woman’s blood? What the hell was going on there?
Sabine tried to pull free. Ryder just held her tighter.
“I made sure that Malcolm never got my blood while we were in Genesis.” Now Cassie’s voice sounded sad. “Because I thought I could help him. I knew if he tasted so much as a sip . . .”
“He’d be dead,” Ryder finished.
She nodded slowly and said, “I wanted to save him. Genesis had already hurt so many, killed them.” Her chin lifted. “I’m truly trying to make amends.”
Yeah, well, good luck with that. Sabine stilled in Ryder’s arms. “Some things can never be fixed.”
Cassie’s stare turned to Sabine. The woman’s eyes were green. A familiar green. The same shade as Richard Wyatt’s eyes. “No,” Cassie sighed out the word. “They can’t.”
Ryder slowly eased his hold on Sabine.
“I was created as a weapon,” Cassie told them, turning her back on Malcolm. “A way to stop the vamps. With the right serums, human blood can become toxic to vampires. Just one sip, and it’s a real killer drink.”
Sabine put her hand on Ryder’s chest and shoved him back. She didn’t want the guy anywhere near Cassie’s blood.
Wait, come to think of it . . . I don’t want to be near her blood, either. So Sabine backed up a few steps, too.
She just wanted to get the hell away from Cassie. Only, if the woman was a walking vampire death kit, could they just let Cassie leave that place?
“My . . . boy . . .” The broken sob had Sabine glancing over at Keith. He was on his feet and looking about ten years older. Malcolm’s hold on the guy was gone, and now Keith was blinking and staring at Vaughn’s snarling figure in horror. “We can’t . . . fix him?”
“Not without phoenix blood,” Cassie said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
There was another phoenix in town. Sabine compressed her lips, knowing that if she mentioned Dante, he’d be hunted. But if she didn’t tell Cassie and Keith about Dante, then Vaughn’s life would be over.
What loyalty did she owe to Dante? He’d tried to kill her before. Multiple times.
So she could easily offer him up here. Right?
The scent of smoke teased her nose.
“Why the hell not?” Ryder muttered as his body tensed. “Everyone else is here. Figures he’d join the party, too.”
Then the door burst in. Sabine realized that she wouldn’t have to reveal Dante’s presence in the city. The phoenix had just stalked inside. Fire burned in his eyes. He stared at them all with fury. And flames burned above his hand.
He lifted his hand and aimed the flames right at Cassie. “You.”
The flames tore from his fingers and flew toward her.
Cassie screamed and lifted her hands.
Sabine moved before she realized what she was doing. She jumped in front of Cassie and the flames hit her in the chest.
“No!” Ryder yelled.
Sabine fell to the floor and rolled. Her clothes were smoking, but—but the fire hadn’t injured her.
Cassie was there, trying to slap at the flames on Sabine’s body. She gasped and glanced up at Sabine. “No burns.” A shocked whisper.
So the fire hadn’t burned her. Big deal. “You’re welcome,” Sabine mumbled as she jerked her head to the right to find Dante and Ryder fighting it out. Flames and claws and fury.
“He wasn’t aiming at either of you,” the low voice whispered from behind Sabine and Cassie. “I think that fire was meant for me.”
Even as fear pulsed through her veins, Sabine spun around.
And she felt a sharp, hard thrust in her chest.
Sabine looked into Malcolm’s eyes. Eyes that were very much aware, and then her gaze fell to the chunk of wood that had been shoved into her chest.
Blood pumped out of her.
“No!” Cassie yelled.
Malcolm swiped out with his claws and sliced right across Cassie’s throat. Her yell choked off. Blood sprayed. In the next instant, Cassie was tossed across the room.
“Told you all,” Malcolm growled, “it takes more to kill me.”
Sabine’s fingers were fumbling with the stake. Attempting to wrench it out of her. But . . . her fingers felt numb. Uncoordinated. She couldn’t seem to grab hold of the wood. And she was falling, slumping, hitting the hard floor.
She tried to keep her eyes open. They wanted to sag. She wanted to sleep.
No, not sleep.
Die.
“Sabine?”
Ryder was there. Crouching over her. Ignoring the threat right behind him. Didn’t he see Malcolm? He couldn’t turn his back on that bastard. Malcolm was evil. Twisted.
Unstoppable?
“You’re going to be all right,” Ryder said.
She hadn’t realized he was such a liar.
He pulled out the stake. The fast removal hurt, and she moaned.
And more blood gushed from her.
Ryder put his bleeding wrist over her mouth. Tried to give her his blood.
But she couldn’t take it. She was too cold. Her body . . . She couldn’t even drink.
It was just like before. Her body had shut down, and she was trapped, screaming on the inside but making no sound for anyone el
se to hear.
Just like before . . . the first time she’d met Ryder. She’d lost her blood and been so cold, just like this.
Malcolm drove his claws into Ryder’s back. Ryder didn’t let her go. He had to let her go. He had to fight his brother.
Ryder’s blood rained down on her.
No.
He wasn’t fighting back. Malcolm was slicing Ryder’s back, ripping into his flesh, but Ryder was just holding her tight. Whispering, over and over, “Don’t leave me, Sabine, don’t ever leave me.”
But she was already leaving. She knew what death felt like. Knew its cold touch so very, very well. Almost as well as she knew her lover’s touch.
Her breath had stilled in her lungs. Her heart had stopped beating. Maybe it had stopped the instant the stake plunged into her . . . or the instant it was pulled out.
She couldn’t move her body. Couldn’t speak and say the one thing that she needed to say. I love you.
But perhaps she didn’t need to say the words. Perhaps Ryder already knew. Because in that last glimpse she had of him, Sabine saw his eyes. His gaze was filled with fear, yes, but also filled with love.
He loved her.
She hoped, hoped, that he knew . . . I love you, too.
Then the cold deepened. Such terrible cold.
She was leaving him.
Leaving . . .
Why did the cold burn?
Sabine was gone.
Ryder held her tight, ignoring the pain as Malcolm sliced the flesh from his back.
“Fight me!” Malcolm roared.
Ryder held on to Sabine. Her blood soaked him. She’d been gone, even before he’d pulled the stake from her chest. Her eyes had already been empty. The fierce passion that was Sabine . . . gone.
Another slash over his back, then Malcolm’s claws drove straight into Ryder’s spine. “Fight me.”
Ryder didn’t feel the pain from the attack. He was already in enough agony. Lost her. The only thing, the only person that I needed . . . Lost. Her.
His heart was gone. He’d tried to hold on to his humanity. Fought for it.
But . . .
Gone.
There wasn’t anything left within him. Just a roar of rage that was building. Hollow. Cold.