What McAdams wanted was a swift trip to hell. Julian would be happy to oblige the man.
“He’s starving me because he wants me weak. Weak means controllable in his mind. He’s going to use me, try to get me to turn into some kind of weapon.” Her laughter was bitter, wild. “I thought the FBI was supposed to be good! They’re just as bad as—” But she broke off, clamping her lips together.
As bad as I am? He eased out a careful breath and took a step toward her. His nostrils flared, pulling in the acrid scent of smoke that was drifting through the air. Before, he’d heard gun shots, distant screams, but all of that noise had died away.
Only the smoke remained.
“We need to get out of here,” he told Rose. His Rose. Holy fucking hell, what were the odds that he’d find her like this? He’d tried to find her before, searching desperately, even going to her asshole brother Michael, but the guy had turned him away.
And I thought she was better off without me.
He’d been wrong. Rose had been hurting, and he hadn’t known. With an effort, Julian kept his voice steady as he said, “In order to escape, you have to be strong. So if you need more blood, baby, drink up.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “Don’t call me that.” Her eyes—dark green and glittering—locked on him.
Julian lifted his hands in front of him. The chains dangled. “My mistake. A slip of the tongue.”
She growled.
“Rose?” It had been so long since he’d seen her. So long since he’d gone to Luke, desperate, and made the deal to save her life.
Or rather…the deal to bring her back from the dead.
“I never wanted this,” Rose whispered.
His heart slammed into his chest. “What did you think I was going to do? It was on me. My fault. I’m the one who—”
“You’re here because McAdams and his twisted group of agents have given me my first assignment.” Her brittle voice cut right through his words. Her face was as he remembered it—a soft oval, big, deep eyes, and full, sexy lips. Her skin was too pale though, and he could see the dark shadows that lined her eyes. “You’re that assignment.”
The scent of smoke deepened. It sure seemed as if that whole place was going down in flames. He could hear the shriek of an alarm now. One that seemed to be growing louder with every moment that passed.
“Agent McAdams told me that I was supposed to attack whoever was placed in the cell with me.” Her shoulders straightened. “He said…he said I was to kill that person.”
Shit.
“If I didn’t…” Her head tilted forward and the dark curtain of her hair—dirty and tangled because she’d been kept prisoner for who the fuck knew how long—swept down to cover her face. “Then McAdams said I’d be the one to suffer.”
He intended to make certain that McAdams suffered—a painful, excruciating anguish.
“I’m sorry,” Rose told him. Her breath rushed out on a sad sigh. That was the thing about vampires—they still breathed. They still felt. They still lived, just in a different way. A way that required blood and fangs. “But I don’t have a choice.”
She might not, but he did. Julian’s gaze flew around the cell. He ran to the wall and drove his fist into it, again and again, but the strange glass didn’t break. His hands bloodied as he punched, but the glass wouldn’t give.
Then he felt her touch on his shoulder. Soft, light, and sending heat flooding right through his whole body. He tensed, his bloody fist still raised.
That was always the way it had been between them. She touched him, and he wanted. He craved. He lost his sanity.
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
And, through that glass, he saw Garrick McAdams and his men—armed men who appeared a bit singed and ash-covered—running toward the cell.
Julian’s jaw locked.
“I really hate,” Rose added, voice almost…wistful. “For you to have to watch me die again.”
What?
Garrick opened the cell door.
Rose locked her hand around Julian’s shoulder and she heaved him back—far away from the agents. His shoulders thudded into the back wall.
Too late, the words finally registered for him. Rose wasn’t going to kill him. She was going to sacrifice herself. No, no, no! He opened his mouth and the roar of his beast erupted, seeming to shake the cell.
“She should have drained the guy by now!” It was the redheaded woman behind Garrick who spoke first. Madeline. Yeah, he recognized her easily enough. She lifted her weapon, aiming it right at Rose. “You knew the assignment.”
Rose ran at her.
Julian lunged for them.
The agents fired at Rose—a barrage of bullets that slammed into her body and she jerked like a marionette on a string.
The change hit Julian right then, white-hot and burning. His beast literally clawed to the surface and shoved the man back. He hit the floor on all fours, his paws and claws scraping over the surface. Fur erupted from his body as he watched Rose fall.
Not again. It can’t happen again.