A bullet sank into her shoulder. She looked down, oddly stunned because there was no pain. The wound just felt…cold. A deep, creeping coldness that slowly spread through her body. That coldness was weighing her down. Making Chloe want to just sag on the ground right next to Connor and sleep.
Sleep wouldn’t hurt, right? There was nothing wrong with a little sleep.
“Got her!” Chloe heard someone yell.
When I sleep, the nightmares come. Fire. Screams.
Connor still had his gun. And maybe it has bullets! She fumbled and managed to grab it. Her fingers just didn’t want to work properly, though, and she almost dropped the new gun. But she managed to raise it and—
A man with glowing eyes was right in front of her.
“You smell good enough to f**king eat,” he said.
He had a gun in his hand.
Too bad for him, she did, too.
She fired. The silver bullet sank into his stomach and he stumbled back, yelling.
“Connor, get up!” She grabbed his shirt collar with her hand and hefted the guy toward the bike. She’d barely taken two stumbling steps when the shirt fabric ripped. Connor sagged against the ground. “No! Don’t do this! I need you!”
She reached down for him again.
His hand flew up and his fingers locked around her wrist. His grip was steely, far harder than it had ever been before. Almost…painful.
“Connor?”
He pulled her wrist toward his mouth. His breath blew over her inner wrist as his lips parted.
“Connor, what are you—”
He bit her. She felt two fangs pierce her wrist, sinking into her veins, and she sucked in a breath to cry out. No, werewolves don’t do this! Not werewolves…
He was drinking her blood.
Just like a…like a vampire.
She lifted her gun. Aimed it at him. “Stop.” Her fingers were shaking. She didn’t understand—he couldn’t be a werewolf and a vampire. That just wasn’t possible.
Was it?
“Pl-please, Connor. Stop!”
He pressed a kiss to her wrist. “Sorry…”
Then, in a flash, he’d taken the gun from her hand and leapt to his feet. Before she could even suck in another breath, he’d turned and fired that gun, shooting with perfect accuracy. When he hit his targets, she heard their pain-filled cries.
Her legs started to give way. That sinking cold had consumed her. The only place she felt warm—it was her wrist. The wrist he’d bitten. Before she hit the ground, Connor caught her in his arms. “I’ve got you,” he told her. “It’s okay now.”
No, there was nothing about this scene that was okay.
He put her on the motorcycle. If he hadn’t jumped on right behind her and wrapped his body around hers, she would have fallen off. But he was holding her too tightly, and there was no place for her to go.
“You’re safe,” he said.
She didn’t feel safe.
The motorcycle’s engine growled to life and the bike sprang forward. Connor wasn’t heading toward the road. He was heading toward the thick line of trees to the right. Toward the forest.
She heard the howl of wolves. The snap of bones. Their attackers—those who still could, anyway—were shifting. Giving chase as beasts.
She should try to stop them. Were there more bullets in Connor’s gun?
“Are you still with me?” Connor’s voice sounded so strong.
She tried to speak, but her tongue felt thick in her mouth.
They were in the trees now. Branches hit her in the face, but she didn’t even feel them. She couldn’t seem to feel anything.
“Chloe?”
I’m with you. But…the words just wouldn’t come and she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. Inside, she was screaming. Begging for help.
Because she knew the fire waited in her dreams.
***
He drove deep into the woods, fast and far, and soon, he didn’t hear the sound of the pursuing wolves any longer. But Connor didn’t stop. He knew this area. Learning it had been part of his assignment. In case Chloe had ever been located by her enemies, he’d needed a plan to escape with her.
Only I almost didn’t escape. Without her blood, I’d still be lying on the ground.
He cut hard to the left and zipped out of the trees. Chloe’s head lolled back. She was out—they’d hit her with the tranqs and that pissed him off. He didn’t know what those werewolves wanted from her, but whatever it was, they weren’t going to get her.
Time for Plan B.
Eric had warned him that if things got out of hand, he would need to bring Chloe back in to one of the Para Unit’s secret facilities. And if Chloe had thought she was in a prison before, well, that would be nothing compared to what was coming. But there wasn’t a choice.
He hit the narrow dirt road up ahead. The motorcycle drove faster, faster…
She was so soft against him. He hated that he’d taken her blood. Even more, Connor hated that he’d liked that blood. Liked her taste. He’d wanted to take and take and take.
But then, he’d always known that he had a true monster inside of him. After all, he was his father’s son.
Chloe had probably finally realized he wasn’t the good guy. Not even close.
He kept driving. Eventually, the dirt road met up with an old highway. The sun began to rise in the sky and the darkness was pushed away. Chloe didn’t wake up.
He drove.
His arm held her against his chest. His fangs were still out, long and aching.
He’d only taken from one other live source before—and that had been when he’d drank from a vampire. From Holly Jacobs. But he’d been in Purgatory then, and that had been a drink or die situation.
After that time, the blood had been carefully screened and prepared by Eric. He knew the dangers of taking Chloe’s blood…he should never have drank from Chloe. Never. He’d been warned, time and again from Eric. Drinking from a live source was supposed to be forbidden. A dark path that he wasn’t supposed to take.
But he’d sure as hell taken that path.
Now he wanted more. So much more.
“I’m sorry, Chloe.” It was too bad that she couldn’t hear those words. “We can’t go back.”
Would she be able to face what was coming her way?
He wanted more from Chloe. He wanted everything that she had to give.
But first, hell, first he was going to have to convince Chloe that he wasn’t a monster.
Yeah, right. Good luck with that shit.
Because he wasn’t just a werewolf, not just a vampire—he was an unholy combination of both. A creature forged from blood and death, and science. Science that probably should never have been used to build a new breed of beast.