Page 66 of Thirst
“Answer them.”
“Answer them how?”
“I’ll say you’re on Lilith Island. That you came willingly, and that you’ll be living here from now on.”
Her mouth hooked sideways, a joke’s-on-you smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You might as well stake me now. Because if he ever gets me back, I’m—” She shook her head.
“What d’you mean? You’re his only spawn, aren’t you?”
“But I’m a dhampir,” she responded, that odd smile still on her lips. “An embarrassment, proof he slipped and sired a child on a human. He’s obsessed with finding his ‘true’ mate.” Her fingers carved air-quotes between us. “A vampire, someone he can make a perfect little pureblood with—like Brien—and when that happens, I’ll be nothing to him. I told you, I think he was getting suspicious, that he might’ve heard something about us, and this will just confirm it. He might just leave me here to rot.”
The guilt was more than a twinge now. “He’ll come,” I muttered. “If he doesn’t, we’ll leak that we have his daughter. He won’t risk looking weak.”
Nyx went still, like the words had brushed a bruise she’d been pretending didn’t exist. “Yeah. That would work.”
“You don’t have to go with him,” I pointed out.
“Right.” She gave a short laugh. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you? Almost makes me think this was your plan all along.”
“Wrong,” I ground out. “Yeah, it crossed my mind, but I never acted on it—and I could have. You’ve been alone with me more than once. Paris. London. Montreal. If I wanted to kidnap you, I could’ve done it in then.”
She only shrugged, unconvinced.
The guilt was a thrumming in my blood now, hot and insistent. When I stripped everything else away, was I any better than Nazaire?
I’d gone to Paris to try and weaponize Nyx, turn her against her sire. To twist whatever spark that existed between us into something that served me. I’d wanted proof, and she was my best shot at getting it.
And if she’d resisted? I’d even toyed with the idea of snatching her, retribution for Nazaire hunting our women.
I opened my mouth. I didn’t even know what I meant to say, but Jude’s small face flashed through my mind, the trusting way he’d burrowed into that space between my neck and shoulder. If Nazaire had gotten his way, that kid would’ve been born a blood slave.
My teeth clamped together. I pulled up Nazaire’s messages and drafted a reply in French.
NYX: I’m with the lieutenant. He offered me sanctuary & I said yes.
I showed her the message.
A shadow passed over her face. “Please don’t send that. If you care for me at all?—”
I punched Send.
Because I didn’t care for her—I couldn’t. My brothers were the important ones here. Them and their mates—and Jude. Most of all, Jude.
Her swallow was noisy in the small cell. “Why are you doing this to me?”
My chest tightened. “I’m not doing it to you. I’m doing it to him.”
“Got it.” Another bitter laugh. “I’m just collateral damage.”
I exhaled, reminding myself of the stakes if we didn’t neutralize Nazaire. But I had the stomach-churning sensation of something slipping through my fingers, something good. Something I hadn’t appreciated until now, when I was about to lose it.
“You remember telling me Nazaire didn’t give you a choice? Well, he hasn’t given me one either. It’s him—or us.”
Her gaze dropped to her hands. “Understood. This isn’t personal.”
I ground my teeth together and turned toward the door. But I couldn’t leave it like that.
I swung back to Nyx. “Look at me,” I demanded.
