A Hunger Like No Other (Immortals After Dark #2)(92)

He was baiting Lachlain, stirring up the beast to render him thoughtless.

“I can’t let you leave here alive. A Lykae after his mate…” Ivo tsked. “Annoyingly tenacious. You’d keep coming long after she’s forgotten you. And she will forget you. I’ll force her to take necks until you’re a distant memory.”

Trying to enrage him. Vampires always sought to trigger the beast.

“Now that I’ve found the key to turning demons, I can turn her fully as well. A true vampire—a true killer. She was made for it.”

Stir the beast. Why not give him what he wanted?

Ivo smirked, so confident. “The first neck she takes will be my own.”

Lachlain cast his sword at the henchman like a dagger, nailing him through the neck. Then, with a mindless roar, Lachlain charged Ivo. As he’d known it would, Ivo’s sword shot out for a killing blow. Lachlain struck it down with his fist, sending it plunging into his own thigh. He left it wedged there, pleased, and let the beast free. The sounds of cracking, tearing…. Through the haze, Lachlain saw Ivo’s long, sadistic existence end with horror in his eyes.

Lachlain growled with satisfaction and dropped his body. He worked Ivo’s sword free of his leg, and then his own sword from the remaining henchman’s neck. “Video,” he snarled.

The vampire clamped a hand to his neck, scrambling to a small computer in the adjoining chamber. When he handed up the video, Lachlain rewarded him with a quick death. Several more vampires had crowded at the opened door, but Lothaire, an enemy of old, was at the front and appeared to be blocking it, keeping them out. How long had he been there?

Lachlain could guess. Long enough to allow Lachlain to destroy Ivo. He asked Lothaire, “You know about her?”

A tight nod.

Lachlain narrowed his eyes. Lothaire couldn’t take the throne, because he wasn’t a blood heir. Lachlain knew of no one who could except for Kristoff—unless they went after Emma.

He bared his teeth at Lothaire. “Follow their fates if you follow their actions. I guard her ruthlessly.”

Lothaire’s lips subtly drew back from his fangs in answer.

No, Lothaire would never get Emma, so the Horde would surrender to the rebel king or descend into chaos.

Unless Kristoff had a sister.

Lachlain needed to kill them all, but needed to get back to Emma more.

He escaped into the sun, never so glad to see a cloudless sky.





Emma knew the cost.

She’d wakened, having dreamed of people pouring blood down her throat, but she couldn’t hold it down. First came blood in glasses, and then everyone started shoving gashed wrists to her lips. But she drank directly from no one, unwilling to risk more memories.

Annika’s voice was thrumming with worry. Myst tried to calm her. “Annika, we will think of something. Go speak to the Lykae downstairs. Maybe he knows something we don’t.”

Ten minutes later, Annika stormed into her room. Emma cracked open her eyes to see a man lurch in after her, hands shackled behind him. Following were Lucia and Regin, faces pensive, swords drawn.

The man was tall with a shadow of a beard. His eyes were a burnished gold, and he’d been frozen into his immortality with rakish laugh lines fanning out from them. He looked so much like Lachlain that it pained her. Garreth.

Would he despise her for her involvement with his brother?

Annika pointed in Emma’s direction. “Is this who Lachlain should take his vengeance out on? We’ve all suffered at the vampires’ hands, yet that dog thinks to punish our Emma, who is nothing but innocent and kind.” She uncovered Emma’s leg. “Look at these gashes! They won’t heal! What has he done to her? You will tell me or—”

“Christ,” he murmured. “That’s his…no, it canna be.” He strode forward, but Regin yanked on his bonds. “Let me closer,” he growled over his shoulder. “Closer, or you’ll get no help from me.” His voice grew deadly. “Get her well.”

“We’ve tried everything!”

“Why will she no’ drink? Aye, Valkyrie, I hear your whispers from her room. I know what she is. What I doona know is how she is my brother’s mate.”

“Emma will never be a ‘mate’ to one of you!”

“It has been done,” he grated. “I assure you.”

Emma opened her eyes, needing to explain—

Annika struck him, sending him reeling back.

“He’s marked her,” Garreth bit out. “He’ll be coming for her. I’m just surprised he’s no’ here already.”

Annika raised her hand again, but Emma didn’t want him hurt. “Annika, don’t….”

“Force blood down her throat,” Garreth said.

“Think you we have not tried that? She can’t keep it down.”

“Try other blood, then. Take mine.”

“Why do you care?”

His voice was so strong, so like Lachlain’s when he said, “Because that’s my queen and I’ll die for her.”

Annika was shaking with emotion. “Never your queen,” she hissed.

“Goddamn it, let her drink from me!”

“She won’t,” Annika said, suddenly sounding like she was about to cry. That had happened only once before. Emma wanted to drink. She didn’t want to die, but her fangs seemed to have grown small and useless. She feared Demestriu had poisoned her with his claws, and was so weak she could barely keep her eyes open.