But Pate’s steady gaze said that he would.
Perhaps the guy would do anything, if it kept a werewolf out of his sister’s bed.
“Do you have control?” Pate demanded. It was the same question he’d asked Holly back at her place. It was time for the guy to stop worrying about the control of others and focus on himself.
Duncan leapt forward. He snatched the gun out of Pate’s hands. Threw it across the room. “No, and neither f**king do you—”
It felt like a fist slammed into his back. A fist that was burning hot, then icy cold.
That was no fist.
His hand flew over his shoulder and closed around the dart that was embedded in his upper back. He yanked it out even as he spun and saw Elias.
Still holding his weapon.
“You…?”
“I’m sorry,” Elias looked miserable. He swallowed, sending his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You wouldn’t want to hurt anyone, but you would. We know how the werewolves are.”
Out to kill. Destroy. Savage.
His knees started to buckle.
Another dart hit him, this one fired from Brent’s gun. Brent, the tall, silent agent who’d been the unit’s newest recruit.
“What the hell have you done?” Holly’s frantic voice. Then she was there. Wrapping her arms around him. Trying to support him. “Duncan? Duncan!”
His eyes were drooping closed. “Don’t…cell…”
“I won’t, I swear, I won’t let them put you in a cell again. Duncan, just stay with me!”
He couldn’t. The drug was in his system. Pumping fast and hard through his blood. The drug’s effect wouldn’t last long. Just long enough for Pate to toss him into a containment cell.
Before, he’d gone into a cell willingly, because he’d been afraid of what his beast might do.
This time, Duncan wondered if Pate had plans to make a cell his permanent home.
Was that what Connor had been trying to tell him? That he’d wind up in Purgatory, too? Now that he’d done the job Pate wanted, the director might not want him around anymore.
Too late, he was already in hell. He wasn’t about to head out on a one-way trip to another prison.
“Duncan?”
He wanted to talk to Holly.
But all he could do was sink into the darkness.
***
“This is a mistake!”
Yeah, right, Pate had been singing that same song for the last hour. Holly didn’t look at him. She was too busy with her patient. Her unconscious patient, thanks to her brother. Duncan was on the exam table in front of her. Strapped down and still wearing his silver collar.
“The mistake was shooting one of your own men.” Jerk. What had Pate been thinking? And Elias—Elias was supposed to be Duncan’s friend. There should have been a rule there…friends didn’t shoot friends in the back with paranormal knockout drugs.
The fact that she’d been the one to create that little brew for Pate to use on his missions? That just made her feel even more miserable.
“You saw him,” Pate gritted as he paced behind her. “His eyes were glowing. The silver was burning his neck. I was afraid his control was shattering.”
Because the full moon was coming ever closer.
“He had his control.” Her fingers stroked over his arm. He felt so warm. Hot.
“And I don’t have your confidence in him.”
“He’s your agent. You should have confidence in him.”
“After the full moon…if I see that he can stay in control then…we’ll talk about confidence.”
There was something in his voice. A note that made her nervous. She glanced back at him. She and Pate were in her lab, so this was as much privacy as they were likely to get in the facility. “What are you planning?”
He shook his head.
Her gut tightened. “Pate?”
“It’s all about the moon,” he said.
The full moon that would rise with the coming night.
“After that, we’ll see what happens. Who’s a friend. Who’s a foe.”
He stalked toward her. His hand lifted. Cupped her chin. “Don’t take any more of his blood.” A low whisper. “There’s still time for you. I know there is.”
No, there wasn’t. “I can’t go back.”
He didn’t want to admit it, but they both knew the human she’d been had died in that alley a year ago.
On the night when a monster had come for Pate, but had killed her instead. They’d been walking, heading toward a restaurant after watching a movie. Everything had happened so quickly.
A man had appeared and yanked her away from Pate. The stranger had sliced open Pate’s stomach, then gone toward him with fangs bared.
“Do you ever wish you’d let him kill me?” Pate asked, voice quiet and emotionless.
Holly inhaled sharply.
And realized that they had an audience.
“Do you think about that night?” He continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the softest of rustles sounded behind them.
Duncan was waking.
“I-I try not to think about it.”
Pate had been on the ground. Telling her to run. Get the hell away! Don’t look back! His shout still rang in her ears some nights.
But he’d always been there for her. So she hadn’t been able to leave him. She’d had no weapon. Just her fists.
She’d jumped on his back. Pounded him. Clawed him. Gotten his attention away from Pate.
The attacker had turned and smiled at her.
She’d screamed. Fangs!
Then those fangs had been in her throat.
“You’re a terrible liar, Holly.” Pate sounded sad. “You should have let me die.”
“No.” Instinctive.
The fangs had sliced deep into her throat. Her scream had died. He’d hurt her, so badly. She’d been the one on the ground then. He’d been over her, surrounding her. Gulping, slurping, making her so sick and afraid.
Then Pate had driven a stake into his back.
“Do you…do you ever wish that I’d put that stake in you, too?” His question chilled her.
She flinched. “No.”
Some of the tension left his shoulders.
She knew how the vampire transformation worked. A vampire’s victim had to be near death. Had to be drained, then given the vampire’s blood. It was a virus. An infection. Science had perfectly explained it to her.
That night, the vampire hadn’t been able to give her his blood. Not willingly, anyway.
The vampire had still been alive after Pate’s attack. Alive, but weak. Pate had sliced open the vampire’s wrist and had forced the guy’s blood in her mouth before Holly could even think of turning away.