If she didn’t go in, they would throw her in. She heard it in Arthur’s voice.
Karina jerked her arm out of his hand. “Take care of my baby, Henry.”
“I will,” he promised.
Karina took a deep breath and walked inside.
“No sudden movements,” Henry called out.
The door behind her clanged shut.
Chapter 8
Lucas curled into a ball on the floor. The pain scoured the inside of his spine as if someone were scraping his vertebrae with steel wool. It stretched in tight strings through his ligaments; it pooled in his joints, in his fingertips, under his tongue. He felt it in his teeth. It ground him like a grain of wheat between two millstones.
His ears caught the sound of approaching steps.
He forced his eyes open.
Karina knelt by him. He inhaled her scent and felt it spark a deep, angry hunger inside him. She pulled him like a magnet. His body screamed for her blood and the end of the pain. Tearing into her would be bliss.
She was rolling up her sleeve. Her lips were pinched together.
He had to speak now. It hurt and he was tired, but he managed. “Don’t.”
“Arthur said you had to feed.”
“Arthur is a sick f**k. I told you that.”
“I can smell you,” she said. “You need to feed.”
“If I feed now, you’ll die.”
“If you don’t, you will, and then they’ll kill Emily.”
Ah. For a second he thought she had felt sorry for him, but no. “Nobody will touch Emily. And I’m not dying. Just hurting.”
“You look awful.” He heard a soft note in her voice. In spite of everything, she cared a little bit. He would take that. That was more than he usually got from anyone.
She hadn’t shied back when he phased. Her knees had trembled but she didn’t flinch. For that he was grateful.
Karina brushed the grime off his face, her eyes kind, her voice gentle. “Lucas, don’t be an idiot. Feed. It will make you feel better.”
“The pain isn’t fatal. It will pass. You’ll need all of your blood before long.”
She pulled back. “What does that mean?”
“Do you have a fever?”
“Yes.”
“Tired?”
“Yes. Lucas, what is happening to me?”
He almost told her the truth. “I told you before, you’re reacting to the venom.”
The ache had burrowed deep into the base of his spine. Lucas forced himself to turn, trying to shift his weight, and it exploded into a blinding white, mind-numbing haze, twisting his limbs. Like being punched in the mouth by a star. He passed out.
When he awoke, her scent was everywhere. The hunger stirred inside him, demanding. Lucas clenched his teeth and felt a light touch on his cheek. His eyes snapped open. She was sitting next to him, her back resting against the wall.
“How long was I out?”
“Maybe a minute or two.”
“Try to time the next one. I need to know if they’re getting shorter.”
“Is there anything else I can do?”
The ache rolled back at him. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“You never did tell me exactly why Emily hoards food.”
She sighed and brushed the brown lock of hair from her face. “It happened after Jonathan died.”
“Your husband?”
“Yes. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why?”
She met his gaze. “Because then you will know things about me.”
“And that would be bad?” Lucas asked.
“Yes.”
Now he wanted to know more.
“Does it hurt to be the beast?” she asked.
“No. Phasing is like being a superhero. I’m faster, stronger. Everything is sharper. There are no consequences. I can let myself off the leash. But my attack variant’s venom is toxic to my human phase variant. Turning back into a man is a bitch.”
A small tremor shook his legs. Lucas grunted and closed his eyes, trying to will the pain away.
“How long will we be locked in here?”
“Until I pull through. Hours. Arthur is trying to keep me safe. I’m an asset and I’m rare and difficult to replace. We shouldn’t have come here, to this building.” The words came slowly. “This base is not secure. We rent five floors here. We don’t own the buildings and don’t control access to it.”
Karina bent down, looking closer into his eyes. Tiny red rosettes marked the skin on her cheeks and forehead. Her own transformation was closing in. Shit. He hoped she would have another day. He didn’t want her to phase here, in the vault, without medical help, without Henry to keep her calm. She could die and he wanted her to live. He had to heal fast.
Heal, Lucas willed in his mind. Heal.
The pain exploded in a white burst and dragged him under.
When the light faded he heard her voice, soothing, calm, warm. Like sitting back in the hot tub, soaking his exhausted body while she floated nearby. “. . . met in college. Jonathan was handsome. Funny. His father was the CFO for Drivers Company. It’s a big insurance company in the Southwest. Brian’s very driven, very conscious about his appearance. Brooks Brothers suits, expensive watch, a new BMW every couple of years. He and Lynda had Jonathan when they were much older, in their forties. Jonathan could do no wrong. He was their golden child. Good at sports, good at academics. He was easygoing and charming. The perfect son.”
She leaned her head against the wall. He moved closer to her and rested the back of his head on her ankle. She let him do it. From here he could see her face. He could touch her hand. Lucas closed his eyes and let himself sink into her voice.
“Things always went Jonathan’s way. I used to watch a cartoon when I was younger. Two mice were living in a lab, and one was very smart and the other one was a knucklehead. So every night the knucklehead mouse, Pinky, would ask the smart mouse, ‘And what are we going to do today, Brain?’ And Brain would say, ‘Try to take over the world!’ And Pinky would get all excited. See, Brain was serious. He was trying to take over the world. But to Pinky it was all a big game. That’s kind of how Jonathan was. The world was his huge playground and every day he’d play at taking it over. Some days he was an athlete; other days he was a student. When we met, he was finishing his MBA and I was getting my bachelor’s in accounting. My parents had died in a car accident when I was a senior in high school. I had just turned eighteen when they passed.”