responsible for me, remember? I’ll find
my own way home.” She tried to walk
past him and he grabbed her arm, misery
smoldering beneath the resolve in his
dark blue eyes. “Let me go. That’s what
you want, so I’m giving it to you.”
“Melena...”
She wrenched out of his loose
grasp. “Good-bye, Lazaro.”
This time, he didn’t stop her. He
stood unmoving, unspeaking, as she
stepped around him and walked out the
door.
CHAPTER 11
An hour later, Melena sat woodenly
in the passenger seat of the Order’s SUV
as it rolled up to her family’s Darkhaven
in Baltimore. The big brownstone should
have been a welcome sight in so many
ways, yet all she felt was sorrow when
she looked at it through the tinted glass
of the vehicle’s window.
Sorrow that she’d never hear her
father’s voice inside the house again.
Sorrow for the pain her brother must be
feeling as he walked into the empty
home, believing he’d lost not only his
father but Melena as well. She didn’t
want to imagine Derek’s anguish, being
the sole blood kin of Byron and Frances
Walsh, both gone now.
And yes, Melena felt sorrow for
herself too. Because instead of facing all
of these heartaches with Lazaro’s strong
arms around her and his love to hold her
up if she crumbled, she would be doing
it alone.
“I’m ready,” she murmured, more
to herself than the Breed male behind the
wheel.
Lucan and Gabrielle’s son, Darion,
put the vehicle in park and turned a
sympathetic look on her. “I’ll walk you
inside, Miss Walsh.”
“No.” She shook her head, warmed
by the kind offer. Darion was as
gentlemanly as he was attractive. “Thank
you, but that’s not necessary. My brother
won’t be expecting me, and I don’t
imagine it will be easy for him when I
walk in the door and he sees that I’m
alive. I’d rather do this on my own.”
“Okay.” Darion frowned, but gave
her a nod. The dark-haired Breed male’s
aura was golden and kind, steadfast with
the strength of a born leader. “But I’m
gonna wait here until you’ve gone
inside.”
She reached over to touch his large
hand. “Thank you.”
Melena climbed out of the vehicle
and headed up the walkway toward the
front door. It was unlocked, the soft light
in the vestibule a warm, welcoming
beacon. She stepped inside and pivoted
to wave good-bye to Darion. As the
black SUV rolled away, she took a
steeling breath and closed the door
behind her.
She was home.
She was back on safe, familiar
ground. And yet, as she walked quietly
through the house, she felt like a stranger
to the place. Like a ghost drifting through
a life that no longer quite fit anymore.
She drifted past the front rooms and
grand central staircase, unsure if she
should call to Derek or wait and let him
adjust to seeing her once she found him.
She didn’t have long to wonder.
She heard her brother talking farther
down the hallway. In her father’s study.
Derek was on a call with someone, the
low rumble of his voice drawing Melena
with a relief and a comfort she definitely
needed right now.
“Yes, sir, the shipment is en route
and everything is in order. That’s right, I
saw to it personally.”
Melena
paused
at
the
open
doorway. Derek stood with his back to
her, dressed in loose sweatpants, his
brown hair still wet from a recent
shower. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and
although the sight of her Breed brother’s
glyphs were no surprise to her,
something did make her breath catch
abruptly in her throat.
Derek now sported a number of
tattoos on his broad back and shoulders.
Unusual-looking stars, crossed swords,
some kind of black beetle—a scarab,
she realized, confused by the body art
that hadn’t been there the last time she
saw her brother. He must have gotten the
tattoos after he’d moved overseas a year
ago.
“It should be in your hands
tomorrow, Mr. Rior—” Derek’s voice
dried up.
He realized he wasn’t alone now.
Disconnecting the call without a word of
excuse, he smoothly slipped the phone
into his pants pocket.
When he pivoted around, his face
was slack with shock...with stark
disbelief.
“Melena. My God.” He frowned,
gave a vague shake of his head. But he
didn’t rush over to embrace her. He
didn’t react the way she would have
expected at all from a sibling who loved
her, worried for her. “I don’t understand.
The news reports said there were no
survivors. I thought you were...”
“Dead,”
she
replied,
only
understanding in that instant why her
brother seemed less than relieved to see
her.
He hadn’t expected to see her again
at all.
His sickening aura told the truth. It
hovered
around
him,
oily
with
corruption. Foul with deceit.
“It was you, Derek.” She could
hardly form the words, could hardly
reconcile what her senses were telling
her. “You were the faceless, hidden
betrayer he feared. Oh, my God...it was
you who arranged for our father’s
death.”
* * * *
Lazaro boarded the Order’s private
jet in a hellish mood.
He
hadn’t
expected
the
conversation to go well with Melena,
but damn if he anticipated the kind of
pain that had lodged itself in his chest
from the moment she stormed away from
him. That ache was still there, cold and
gnawing, creating a vacuum behind his
sternum that he didn’t imagine would
ever be filled.
She was gone.
He’d made certain of that—for her,
he wanted to reassure himself. But
Melena’s words still echoed in his mind.
Her
condemning,
all-too-accurate
accusation.
He was a coward.
As the jet began to taxi toward the
runway, Lazaro couldn’t dismiss the
feeling that he was walking away from
the best thi
ng that had happened to him in
a very long time.
And why?
Because of exactly what Melena
said. He was afraid. Afraid to his
marrow that he might let himself fall in
love with her and risk cutting his heart
open again should anything happen to
her.
The truth was, he was already
falling. Letting her go cut him open, and
as he rubbed at the empty ache in his
chest, he realized only then what a
fucking idiot he was.
Pushing Melena away had been the
most cowardly act of his long life.
He’d lived more than a thousand
years. He had loved a woman deeply,
fearlessly, for several centuries before
he lost her. He knew what real love felt
like. He knew himself well enough to
understand that time, for him, was
immaterial. Time could last forever, or
it could be gone in the blink of an eye.
He loved Melena. And whether it
had happened in a matter of days, or
over the span of a hundred years, it was
all the same to him. He wanted her
beside him. Starting right now, if she
would have it in her heart to forgive him.
On a snarl, he punched the call
button next to his seat.
“Yes, sir?”
“Turn it around.”
The pilot went silent for a moment.
“Sir, we’re next on the runway to taxi
and—”
“Turn
this
goddamned
plane
around. Now.” On second thought, he
couldn’t wait that long. He unbuckled his
seat belt and stood up. “Never mind. I’m
getting off right here.”
“But, sir—”
He unlocked the hatch and leapt
down from the fuselage onto the dark
tarmac. Then he was running. Heading
for the Order fleet vehicle he’d parked
in the private hangar when he’d arrived.
It was just as he neared the black
sedan that his senses suddenly seized up,
gripped by something powerful and
horrifying. His veins lit up with a
piercing dread.
Not his emotions.
Melena’s.
He could feel her terror rising in
his blood through his bond to her.
Holy hell.
She was in danger.
She was in fear for her very life.
CHAPTER 12
Melena tried to run.
She wasn’t even halfway into the
hall before Derek yanked her off her
feet. His hand wound tight in her hair.
Pain raked her scalp as he hauled her
face backward to meet his furious sneer.
“You’re supposed to be dead,
sister dear,” he hissed against her cheek.
“You and Father both in one fell swoop.
I’ve been planning it since he confided
in me about his meeting with Turati.”
“You killed him, you bastard!”
Melena could hardly contain her
contempt or her fear. “You killed more
than a dozen innocent people that night,
Derek. My God, did you hate us that
much or are you simply out of your
mind?”
“Arranging for that rocket strike
was the sanest thing I’ve ever done.
Killing Father and Turati? Doing it
while they were secreted away for a
covert meeting to broker their precious
fucking peace? Let’s just say it won me
all the respect I deserve with the people
who really matter.”
Melena’s heart sank even further.
“Opus Nostrum.”
He chuckled. “I was a mere
lieutenant for this past year. They barely
knew my name. Now I’ve got a direct
line to the inner circle. I’ll be a part of that circle soon. This was my proof of
allegiance, my demonstration of worth.”
Derek’s eyes flashed with vicious intent
as she fought against his ruthless,
unyielding hold. “As for you, Melena, I
couldn’t very well let you see me after I
joined the organization. Your irritating
gift would’ve sniffed me out right
away.”
“You plotted to kill me all this
time?” she asked, hating that his
duplicity hurt her so deeply.
Derek shrugged, his crackling
amber eyes roaming over her terrified,
miserable face with a cold disregard.
“At first, I thought I could just avoid you.
But then Father confided in me that he’d
been having premonitions of a betrayal,
and I knew it was only a matter of time
before one or both of you discovered my
alliance with Opus Nostrum. When he
later told me about the meeting and the
fact that you’d be accompanying him, I
knew it was my chance to act.”
Bile rose in her throat as he spoke.
“You’re a cold-blooded murderer,
Derek. You’re a sick, backstabbing
fuck!”
“Careful, little sister. I’m the only
thing standing between you and your
grave.” He snagged a cord from the table
lamp on the desk, sending the thing
crashing to the floor. Then he quickly
bound her wrists behind her back.
“Don’t rush me to put you in it.”
With that, he wrenched her into a
more punishing hold and shoved her
forward. He guided her out of their
father’s study and down the opposite end
of the hallway. Melena had no choice
but to shuffle ahead of him, panicking
when she realized he was taking her
He walked her toward their father’s
GNC-issued silver SUV parked in the
drive.
“What are you doing, Derek?”
He opened the back door. Shoved
her into the farthest seat.
“Where are you taking me?” she
demanded, hysteria bubbling up as he
calmly climbed behind the wheel. “If
you’re going to kill me, then just do it,
damn you!”
“I’m not going to kill you, Melena.”
His cold eyes met her gaze in the
rearview mirror. “I’m going to take you
to my comrades in the organization.
They’re not nice people, I’m afraid.
You’re going to wish you died in that
fucking explosion.”
He started the engine. Then he
backed away from the Darkhaven and
started speeding for the highway.
* * * *
Lazaro gunned the black sedan
through the late-night traffic on the
highway, speeding like a bat out of hell
for Baltimore. He didn’t know what had
Melena so terrified, but her fear was
visceral. And it was eating him alive
from the inside.
“Hang on, baby,” he muttered as he
dodged one lagging car and nearly
sideswiped
another.
“Ah,
God,
Melena...know t
hat I’m coming for you.”
He was just about to veer toward
the exit he needed when all of his
instincts lit up like fireworks.
She was somewhere close—right
now.
Possibly on the same stretch of
highway, by the way his veins were
clanging with alarm bells.
He scanned both sides of the
divided lanes, a chaos of headlights and
commuting vehicles. She might as well
be a needle in a goddamned haystack.
And then—holy shit.
His Breed senses pulled his
attention toward a light-colored SUV
that had just merged on to the opposite
side of the highway. The vehicle was
speeding almost as fast as he’d been. In
a big fucking hurry to get somewhere.
Melena.
She was inside the silver SUV. He
knew it with total, marrow-chilling
certainty.
And whoever had her was going to
have bleeding hell to pay if she’d been
harmed in any way.
Lazaro yanked the steering wheel
and sent the sedan roaring into the
median. Grass and mud flew in all
directions as he tore across the divider
and launched his car into the traffic on the other side. He floored the pedal,
tearing up the pavement as he tried to
catch the bumper of the vehicle that held
his woman.
Flashing his lights, laying on the
horn, he tried to get the attention of the
vehicle bearing GNC diplomatic plates.
It belonged to Byron Walsh, but Lazaro
wasn’t certain who the Breed male was
behind the wheel. But then, as he ran up
alongside it briefly, he caught a glimpse
of the driver. A cold, sickening
recognition set in.
Son of a bitch.
Derek Walsh.
And judging from the vampire’s
murderous glower, he had no intention of
giving up Melena without a fight. The
SUV lurched into a more reckless speed.
It careened behind a semitrailer, dodging
between a car of teens and a commuter
bus.
Lazaro
could
only
follow,
negotiating the traffic and keeping his
focus trained on his quarry.
Walsh drove erratically for several
miles with Lazaro chewing up his
bumper. More than once, there was the
opportunity to ram the bastard and send
the SUV rolling, or to draw one of his
semiautomatics and blast a hole in the
Breed male’s skull...but not with Melena
inside. Not when Lazaro’s heart was
tied to her and every breath in his body