The few Dorjan whose minds were too infected to ever be free again were housed below Dabyr in the prison cells where they would live out the rest of their artificially brief lives. Most of them would be mad within a month. He’d never known a captured Dorjan to last more than a year before their bodies simply gave out. For them, death was a blessing that couldn’t come too soon.
Jodi was safe, living with her parents while the photography studio was rebuilt. Rory had disappeared, probably back onto the streets.
Now that the homeless shelter was gone, Logan wondered where she’d sleep.
An idea began to form in his mind, taking wing and offering him a small blanket of solace. He may never again be able to see Hope, but he knew exactly how to honor her memory.
Tynan let him into the lab, set out some samples of blood for him to study, and left.
It was Hope’s blood on those slides. Logan could smell her fragile scent filling his head. He tried to convince himself that never seeing her again was the best. For both of them. The lie left him feeling restless and edgy.
He couldn’t concentrate on his work. He kept staring into the microscope, searching Hope’s blood for something that wasn’t there—a way he could have her in his life. Forever.
Tynan came back into the lab, and instantly, Logan knew he’d been with her. Hope’s scent clung to him. She’d been afraid.
Logan shoved his chair back and faced Tynan, teeth bared. “What did you do to her?”
“Who?”
“Hope.”
“Nothing. She’s fine.”
“She’s afraid.”
Tynan let out a heavy sigh. “I found another match for her. He’s here at Dabyr. She wasn’t sure things would work out as I promised, so she was a bit apprehensive. It’s perfectly natural—nothing for you to worry about.”
But he would. He knew he would. He’d worry about her welfare every second of every day for the rest of his life.
How could he not when he loved her so desperately? And how could he remain here, under this roof, knowing she was here as well? With another man.
Logan’s body was an angry, alien beast. He lurched up from his seat, knocking the microscope to the floor.
“Either let me remove your memories of the woman or go home,” ordered Tynan, his tone final. “I can’t work around you when you’re like this.”
Rage made his limbs shake. “You will never take my memories of her away. They are all I have left.”
“Then leave. I cannot tolerate your destructive tendencies.”
“I need to keep busy.”
“Read a book. Watch TV. Just please leave me to work in peace.”
Tynan was right. As fevered as Logan’s emotions were right now, he feared what he might do. If he didn’t keep to himself, someone might get hurt. It was best he stayed isolated until he had better control over himself. Assuming he ever would.
He went back to his suite to pack. He had to leave this place, hole up in a Gerai house for a while.
He stopped in the hall at his doorway. Hope’s scent lingered in the air, as if she’d passed this way.
His heart raced and he hardened in a fast rush. He never should have lain with her. While it had been exquisite, he now knew exactly what he was missing—what some other man would now share with her. He’d never again feel the silky glide of her skin, or hear the soft sighs of her pleasure. He’d never again smell the mingling of their scents, melding together so perfectly. He’d never again taste her kisses or the heated salt of her skin. Never again taste her blood or feel the heady rush of power she gave him.
It was too much to bear. He’d lost too much to ever recover fully. Time would ease the pain, but the hole she’d left inside him would forever bleed at her loss.
Logan swiped his key card and went inside his suite.
Hope was there, sitting on his couch. She froze when she saw him, her eyes going wide with surprise.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. This was some kind of cruel joke. Someone had let her in so he’d have to suffer her loss all over again. Whoever that was would pay dearly.
“Tynan said my choices were to stay here with my memories or leave without them. He said I could share this suite with a roommate. I was waiting to meet her.”
“Her? He told me he’d found someone for you.”
She stood slowly, her movements graceful and sinuous. She was so beautiful his gaze was fixed, soaking in her loveliness.
Logan remembered every curve of her body. He remembered how she felt under his hand, the way she sucked in a breath and bit her bottom lip when he found her most sensitive spots, like the one at her nape and the small of her back.
His blood heated and he took a few steps to his left so that the recliner hid his erection. It was his shame that he couldn’t control himself around her, but it seemed beyond his ability.
She cocked her head to the side, unknowingly drawing attention to her neck. Her pulse beat there, strong and sure, and for the first time in three days, a knot of anxiety loosened up inside Logan’s chest. She was safe. Whole. At his side, where he wanted her most.
“Are you saying he was trying to fix me up with another guy?” she asked, irritation plain in her tone. “After that chauvinistic asshole Eric, I’m never trusting a Sanguinar’s opinion in men again.”
“I . . .” He trailed off, at a loss for how to respond. Of course Tynan would try to find her another mate. Whether he’d told her that was another story. “This is my suite.”
“You live here?” she asked, taking a small step toward him.
“Yes.”
A smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “Did you know Tynan told me I could live here?”
“No.”