Page 106 of Thirst
Cain drew breath to answer, but I got there first. “I’ll manage. But I would like a ride somewhere. Europe, maybe.”
Some country without a major syndicate.
Cain’s hand settled on my lower back. “She’ll be staying here,” he said firmly. “On Lilith Island.”
I made a noncommittal sound and bent over the pad. This wasn’t a fight I was having in front of his friends.
But I would be leaving.
Because staying would break me.
29
Cain
Nyx drew a detailed map of Nazaire’s lair for us. She couldn’t resist a few artsy touches—a bat lurking in a corner, a Gothic chandelier marking the great room, a snake disappearing down the stairs to the lair. The others noticed, especially Brien, who’d been one of the first vampires to buy her paintings. But I figured that was just because he had a thing for good art. No way he’d ever connect Nazaire’s socialite daughter to The Haunt.
She walked us through the map and together, we fleshed out the plan to rescue Perla. By the time the others finally headed out, it was well past midnight.
The door clicked shut behind them. I turned to Nyx.
She’d gotten off the stool but was holding the pad tightly to her chest, jaw set, like she was holding herself together by sheer will.
My gut twisted. “I’m sorry,” I said. “About Perla.”
She hitched a shoulder. “Collateral damage,” she reminded me flatly. “But hey, you got what you wanted, didn’t you? I’m helping you break into his lair.”
“Fuck what I wanted. She’s your friend, and I’m sorry she got dragged into this.” I took a step closer. “I want you to be happy, Nyx.”
“Really.” Her hazel eyes lifted.
There was so much pain in them, my lungs closed up. That emptiness that had hit me after finally putting Baker out of his misery? This was worse. Ten times worse.
“I did what I thought I had to do,” I said, giving her the truth because it was all I had left. “To protect my friends. But I’m sorry—so fucking sorry—that Perla got hurt because of it.”
She kneaded her brows with her knuckles. “I want to hate you,” she whispered. “I should hate you.” Stronger this time, like she was trying to convince herself. “I thought we had something.” A short laugh. “Something special. That maybe we were even mates.”
I flinched.
Her eyes lifted to mine. “Scared you, didn’t I? Don’t worry. I know a syndicate lieutenant would never claim a dhampir as a mate.”
“Like hell I wouldn’t. Maybe I used to think that way, but not anymore. I’d be fucking honored.”
One side of her mouth curled in a yeah-right smile.
Something deep inside me clenched. That she thought herself anyway inferior to me was just wrong.
“It’s the truth, damn it. If anything, you’re too good for me. You’re practically a princess, and I’m the fuckup Brien’s mother sprang from jail to babysit her son.”
Her lips parted. “You were in jail?”
“Yeah.” I scrubbed a hand down my face, the shame still a part of me even all these years later. “That shot I told you she offered me and Talon? That’s where she found us—the island jail. Me and Talon both. She told me later she figured Brien needed friends who could think outside the box. And she wanted men who had no previous ties to the syndicate so our only loyalty was to him.”
She nodded slowly, like that explained a lot.
“But about you and me,” I continued, “when we met, I had a plan, and you weren’t a part of it.”
Her gaze flicked away. “Now that, I believe.”
