The inner room was big, much bigger than the other room. Inside, there were lab tables. Test tubes. Cages.
Been there. Fucking done that.
In one of those cages, he saw the hunched form of a man. The man’s body was in the shadows. Ryder began walking toward him. There . . . that was where the scratching sound was coming from. He could see the man’s long, dark claws scratching at the floor near his feet.
“I know what he was like before, but he’s different.” Cassie followed close behind Ryder. “Since I started his treatment, there’s been no aggression. I think the original vampirism virus created a serotonin deficiency in him that—”
Malcolm wasn’t in the cage. As he watched, the man in the cage surged toward the bars and gave Ryder a clear view of his face.
“Vaughn?” Sabine whispered. “He’s . . . dead.”
“There’s a lot of that going around,” another voice said.
A voice that came from the right. The man standing there had made no sound at all, hadn’t even breathed, so Ryder hadn’t picked up on his presence as he stood cloaked in the shadows.
But that voice had haunted Ryder for so long. He turned his head even as his hand reached out and curled around Sabine’s arm.
And his eyes met a gaze the exact shade as his own. A gaze that had last looked upon him with fury and hatred.
“Hello, my brother,” Malcolm said quietly. “It’s been a long time.”
Screams and blood and agony. Women and children slaughtered. Cries that wouldn’t end. So many broken bodies. “Not long enough,” Ryder responded as battle-ready tension pumped through him. He’d defeated Malcolm once, and he’d do it again.
“You see?” Cassie was there again. Rushing in front of Malcolm. Gesturing excitedly with her hands. “He’s cured! His fangs have returned to normal. His claws—normal. He has his control back. There haven’t been any attacks from him, any—”
“Did you hear that?” Malcolm asked with a smile. One that showed his sharp canines. “I’m normal.”
Easy words. Flat. But . . .
“Sabine, go back into the other room,” Ryder ordered.
Cassie blinked. Some of the excitement left her face. “But we need Sabine’s assistance. It’s her tears, they’re the key. A phoenix’s tears can heal anything, anyone.”
So he’d heard.
Cassie glanced toward Sabine. “The tears have to be shed willingly. They can’t just be harvested from the tear ducts. That’s why it’s so hard to get them.”
Wasn’t that just a damn inconvenience for her?
Cassie shifted nervously. “If we can just get a few more then we can help so many others.”
“I-I haven’t cried since Ryder changed me,” Sabine said, shaking her head.
“Changed you?” Now Keith had come into the room.
“Ryder’s blood . . .” Sabine swallowed. Ryder saw her gaze dart to Vaughn. The primal was yanking at the bars of his cage. Snapping his teeth. “I’m a vampire now, not a phoenix. I can’t help Vaughn.”
Cassie’s eyes widened, and then she glanced over at Vaughn. “B-but we need . . .”
“You will help my son,” Keith demanded as his hands fisted. “He’s not dying!”
The snarling, fighting beast in that cage screamed. An inhuman cry.
Then Keith charged for Sabine. Ryder yanked her back and stepped forward. So instead of attacking Sabine, Keith shoved the stake in his hands into Ryder’s chest. Or rather, the f**king fool tried to drive it into Ryder’s heart.
Ryder stopped him. He caught the wood. All but disintegrated it in his fist. “Never come at her!” he roared.
Then he heard the laughter.
Ryder stared into the human’s eyes. They looked a little . . . lost. Unfocused.
And that mocking laughter had haunted so many of his dreams.
“You always were too impetuous . . .” Malcolm’s voice. Ryder turned slowly and found Malcolm holding Sabine in his arms. His brother bent to smell her hair. “You just could never see the real threat that was right in front of your face. The threat that’s been there, all along.”
His brother.
Ryder grabbed the human’s head. Turned it to the side. Saw the faint bite marks on Keith’s neck.
Son of a bitch. Malcolm had just forced Keith to attack, in order to distract Ryder.
“They’re just puppets, aren’t they?” Malcolm murmured. “Puppets and food.”
Ryder pushed Keith away. He faced off against his brother. Cassie was still there, her frightened gaze flying back and forth between Malcolm and Sabine.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Cassie asked Malcolm. “Let her go!” The woman was scared, but she didn’t appear to be under Malcolm’s control.
Appearances could be so deceiving.
“Of course.” Malcolm smiled. His fangs glinted. “I’m not desperate for her blood like the others, so I should just let her go. It’s the right thing to do.” His fingers were wrapped around Sabine’s neck. “But f**k the right thing.”
He snapped her neck.
“I never gave a shit about right,” Malcolm said. “Not after my change, and, sorry to ruin this for you, brother, but not before, either.”
He had a stake in his hand.
The broken neck . . . that wouldn’t have killed Sabine. Ryder rushed forward. She’d recover from the break. She’d recover.
But not if his bastard of a brother staked her.
He grabbed Sabine’s hand. Yanked her body away from Malcolm. When he turned to shield her with his body, Ryder felt strong fingers close over his neck.
“You love her.”
Carefully, because her broken neck hadn’t healed yet, Ryder lowered Sabine to the floor. Cassie gave a wild cry and rushed toward her.
When Ryder stood, Malcolm moved in a flash and put the stake right over his heart.
“I didn’t think you could love. I thought you were like me.” Now Malcolm sounded disappointed. But he’d made a mistake. He hadn’t attacked when he’d had the chance.
“I used to think that I was just like you,” Ryder told him. “But then I realized I wasn’t broken.”
The tip of the stake pushed into his skin, drawing blood.
“They buried me. I wasn’t dead. I could feel everything. Do you know what the worms and insects did to me?”
Ryder’s jaw locked. “You’d lost your head. You were staked.” He should have been dead.