Declan jerked forward a step as if he’d been hit from behind. He gasped for breath, then clamped his scarred hand against his stomach and looked down at it. Bright red blood gushed through his fingers. When he looked up at me, I noticed his throat was now slit as well. Blood pumped out of him with every beat of his slowing heart.
I couldn’t breathe. I tried desperately to fight through whatever this was that was holding me back.
“Declan!” I woke up screaming and clutching at the solid form in front of me.
“I’m here,” Declan soothed, stroking my hair. “It was just a nightmare. It’s okay, Jill. You’re okay.”
I pulled back from him and searched his face, my eyes wide. He was here. He was alive. “I thought that I . . . I thought that you—that you were—”
“Whatever it was, it wasn’t real.” He held my face between his hands and wiped my tears away. “I know all of this has been a struggle for you, but it’s almost over. Try to be strong for just a little while longer. Can you do that?”
I nodded soundlessly.
“Jill . . .” Declan began after a few silent moments went by. He was frowning.
“What?”
“That experiment last night . . .”
I eyed him. “What about it?”
“Do you regret it? Do you wish we hadn’t even tried?”
I hesitated. “You really want to know how I felt about it?”
“Yes.”
“It was amazing, but . . .”
His brow furrowed. “But what?”
I looked directly in his gray eye and pressed my hands against his warm chest. “But I’ve been thinking about it. And as good as it was . . . I—I don’t want you to touch me or kiss me like that again unless you really, really mean it and feel something in return. Understand?”
He held my gaze before nodding firmly. “I understand.”
There was a ringing sound. Declan fished into his pocket for his cell phone and held it to his ear. “Yeah?”
He didn’t take his attention off me for a moment. He stayed seated at the edge of the bed.
“Got it,” he said, then ended the call, his jaw tightening. “That was fast. Reynolds is ready to see you again.”
“The doctor is in,” I said, my voice shaky.
“You ready?”
The dream troubled me. What did it mean? That I wanted Declan, but only if he was perfect and normal? But if he was normal, that meant I wasn’t. The only thing I knew for sure was that when I saw the real Declan injured, dying, all I wanted was to get to him. To help him. To comfort him. But I couldn’t.
And then it was too late.
I guess I didn’t need to hunt too far to find the symbolism there.
I nodded firmly. “I’m ready.”
WE RETURNED TO the warehouse. I got the same strange feeling I’d had yesterday as we entered the main doors, unguarded apart from the security camera.
“What’s wrong?” Declan asked.
“This place . . .” I shook my head. “It freaks me out knowing there are vampires downstairs that Dr. Reynolds is using as test subjects.”
“This is how it’s done, Jill. If you want to test ways to exterminate vampires, you need vampires to exterminate.”
“So this is nothing new.”
“No. And this isn’t the only facility like this in the country—both government and privately funded. The vampires used in programs like this are the most messed up, the ones that can’t keep their fangs out of humans. They’re brought here instead of ending up on the wrong side of a stake.”
I hesitated and looked at Declan. “You’ll stay with me?”
“If you want me to,” he said, holding my gaze.
I nodded, though my throat felt thick. He’d stay with me until all of this was over. Through the pain. Through the drama. When everything was pain free and drama free, he’d be gone. I guess I’d just take things an hour at a time. Hell, a minute at a time might be a better idea.
Jackson was waiting for us at the elevator. “Dr. Reynolds wants me to take care of a little matter downstairs. But first I’m supposed to take you down to his examining room so you can . . . do what you have to do.”
His gaze flicked to Declan.
“Problem?” Declan asked as we got into the elevator and Jackson punched in the code.
“No. Nothing. Just business.” He turned his attention to the digital floor numbers above the doors that showed our descent.
He seemed grumpy today, not that I was an expert on the varying moods of Jackson Gale, vampire hunter. Maybe he was pissed about my rejection yesterday. I doubted it. I didn’t get the impression he was actually serious about me in a romantic way. He just wanted to get laid by a woman he perceived as horny enough to say yes. I wasn’t quite there yet.
I thought about what had happened between me and Declan last night. While it had been rather . . . satisfying . . . it was also entirely unsatisfying, which is why I said what I had to him. Sex wasn’t just the means to an orgasm for me—although it was a lovely gift with purchase. I needed to have the emotion to back it up. When I looked at Declan’s face, I wanted to see the same desire that I felt reflected there—the same desire I had seen on his face in the past. Otherwise the one-sided sex experiment was fun and more than enough to get me off, but ultimately hollow.
Soon it might not be an issue at all. With me cured, my blood cleansed, and no reason to stay with Declan any longer, I figured it would be unlikely that I’d see him again. I’d go back to my regular life—my succession of unfulfilling jobs, socializing with friends and coworkers, visits with my sister and my nieces, random dating of entirely normal men, ones a lot like the unscarred, non-dhampyr version of Declan in my dream—and that would be that.
It would be strange to know he wasn’t close by, watching over me. The thought made me feel something I could only describe as grief. Grief for a man who’d come into my life unexpectedly and disappeared just as quickly as he’d arrived.
I stayed close to Declan, nearly, but not quite, touching him. He was motivated by wanting to help me get better. So was I. I think I might have followed someone into the very depths of hell in order to get my blood cleaned out. The thought of the pain that was to come was an issue for me, but not enough to stop me from moving forward.