Say it and mean it. Her father’s advice. Don’t take shit from anybody in this world. A favorite mantra of his.
Ryder’s fangs slowly lifted from her skin. His tongue swiped over the small wounds he’d left behind, lightly lapping at the skin.
The rasp of his tongue shouldn’t have turned her on. It probably should have given her more nightmares. A vampire. Drinking from me!
But Sabine could admit to herself that the bite had turned her on. Her ni**les were aching and heavy, and arousal had her shifting and arching her h*ps slightly.
One more lick, and his head rose. “Your taste is incredible.”
Right, what was that, like a vampire pickup line?
He glanced down at the stake. Maybe he was just now realizing that he was bleeding, courtesy of her. It seemed only fair that they’d both drawn blood. He reached for the stake, but then his body began to sag.
She tried to grab him. The stake fell to the floor, and so did Ryder.
His eyes were closing. “What . . . did . . . you . . .”
She hadn’t done anything. Had she? Sabine crouched at his side. “What’s happening?” She’d been the one on the floor after the last bite.
Ryder started to shake—hard, heavy convulsions.
Then the cell door flew open. Guards stormed in, with their weapons raised.
“Get back!” one of them yelled at her.
She held Ryder’s hand tighter. Sabine didn’t even remember reaching for his hand, but now she was holding on to him for dear life. “Something’s wrong with him!”
“No, my dear,” Wyatt said as he pushed through the guards. “He’s having the exact response to the drug that we’d hoped.”
Drug? Understanding dawned. The drugs they gave me.
“Get his blood,” Wyatt ordered the man on his right. A smaller guy with nervous hands and bright, red hair. The man’s lab coat swirled around him as he hurried forward.
Sabine grabbed the stake. “Don’t you touch him!” She held the stake up like a knife.
Wyatt laughed. “Shoot her.”
What?
The guard at Wyatt’s shoulder shot her. Sabine screamed as the tranq dart embedded in her chest.
She tried to hold on to the stake, but it rolled right out of her suddenly numb fingers.
The redhead was crouching over Ryder now, taking the vampire’s blood and filling up test tubes. A lot of test tubes.
“Take the female subject back to her room,” Wyatt ordered.
Sabine’s body was about to crash onto the floor when two of the guards hoisted her back to her feet. Well, okay, her legs weren’t exactly steady, so when they started walking, her feet dragged behind them.
“Good job,” Wyatt told her with a small smile. “I knew you’d be able to get to him.”
Wait, what? Her body might not be working right, but her mind was still functioning pretty dang well. Wyatt was making it sound as if she’d been working with him.
Her gaze darted back to Ryder. Of course, his lashes would have flickered and started to open right then. His green stare was far too aware as it locked on her.
He’s awake. Which meant . . . They’re dead.
And, wow, the guy sure hadn’t been out for long.
Her expression must have given her away because Wyatt suddenly swore and grabbed for the blood-filled test tubes. “Get her out of here!”
They hauled ass getting her out the door. Wyatt was on her heels, more guards rushing behind him.
And the redhead who’d taken Ryder’s blood—
She managed to turn her head and lock her gaze on him.
The redhead didn’t make it out.
The metal door closed on his scream.
Lethargy pulled at Sabine’s body, but she forced her eyes to stay open. They’d just hit her with one tranq this time, surely she could fight this.
Her head sagged forward. Or not. Dammit.
She hated to be so weak.
The guards began to haul her away.
“No!” Wyatt suddenly snapped. “She needs to see this.”
She tried to slap at them, but her hands just fluttered in the air like useless birds. Then she was in another room, one with dim lights and lots of computers and machines.
“Look at him,” Wyatt ordered as he took hold of her chin and forced her head back up.
Sabine blinked and stared straight ahead. At Ryder. She was looking through the two-way mirror.
Ryder was in his cell, and the redheaded man was in front of him. Ryder had one hand on the man’s throat. It looked like the redhead was begging.
“See what he is?” Wyatt demanded, his fingers pressing hard into her chin. “Do you see why he can’t be free?”