Hunting the Dark (29 page)

‘But what if you
could
stop?’ he said, actually taking a step toward me and beginning to roll up the sleeve of his shirt. The same black shirt that I’d thought he looked so cute in when we met before Stark’s talk.

Jace kept talking, never taking his eyes off me. ‘What if you just took enough. Enough to get you calm – maybe even enough to give you the strength to get us
both
out of here. That would be worth it, right?’

‘There
is
no way out, Jace.’ I gestured wildly around us. ‘Do you see a way out? All I see are cameras. There aren’t any doors!’

‘They got us in here,’ he said, all super-reasonable. ‘That means there’s a door somewhere. If you’re at full strength – even
half
strength, I know you’ll find it and get us both out of here.’

My head snapped up. ‘You have more faith in me than
I
do, right now.’

‘Moth, we don’t have time to argue.’ His lips twisted into that familiar half-smile. ‘I can’t believe I have to talk you into this  . . .’

A wave of sadness hit me. ‘You told me once that I’d never get to taste your blood.’

His half-smile turned into something mocking, but I don’t think it was me that he was laughing at. ‘Yeah, well, that’ll teach me to be such an absolutist. Never say never and all that.’

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the smell of fresh blood as though it were nothing but troublesome cobwebs. I forced myself to focus on what Jace was saying.

‘Go on,’ he said. ‘Maybe I’ll even like it.’

And that was enough for me. It was enough for
her
. For Moth: the other me beneath the skin. I was so tired and hungry. I wanted out of here. And, truth be told, I wanted Jace.

My eyes were glowing so brightly I could see every detail of Jace’s expression in the near-dark of the room. He didn’t look scared, but there was a sort of tension in his jaw that made me think of someone waiting for bad news. His eyes glittered a little crazily, but I didn’t care about that anymore. All I cared about was that I could hear his heart, taste his pulse, and I could see the blood dripping from a deep cut in his forearm.

‘Stop fighting it,’ Jace said. ‘Stop fighting
her
. Let go.’

So I did. I let her out. The monster burst out of its cage and she howled her release. Marie O’Neal disappeared. Even Moth, with all her quirky, self-deprecation, faded in the wake of that crimson tide of hunger and hurt.

I didn’t know who I was anymore, but that didn’t matter in the face of this. Nothing mattered, only slaking a thirst that would never end – that could never end as long as I endured as a vampire beyond death. Life, death  . . . the question of whether or not I even possessed a soul  . . . everything went away as I pushed Jace to the ground and grabbed his arm in both my hands, pressing my lips almost reverently to it.

I’d only fed from Theo before, and only three times in the space of a year. This was different in ways I couldn’t even begin to express.

Jase Murdoch’s blood slid down my throat and it felt like coming home.

This was what being a vampire was about. It was the thing I hated most, but it was also the thing I secretly, guiltily craved: drinking the life-force of another being. A living, human being. And not just any human, but someone to whom I felt attached. Not in a Maker-and-fledgling kind of relationship, which was a blood bond of a different kind. But in a way that was about
choice
.

I’d chosen Jace, on some level, even though he was about as far away from the ideal ‘partner’ as it was possible to get. He was everything I should be afraid of. Everything my nature should automatically distrust.

And yet, I couldn’t help it. He was bitter and funny and warm, damaged and in pain; he was brave and strong, yet also vulnerable. He was utterly human, and I was drawn to him. I needed to drink him, and I wanted to drink deep.

His blood tasted like the finest wine that I’d ever had. I’d somehow known that it would. Jace was like the sun and electricity mixed with earth and shadows. My mouth clamped onto his arm and my fingers dug into his skin. I’m not sure he could have dislodged me without smacking me over the head with a rock, but right at that moment he didn’t seem all that unhappy with the situation.

He was propped up against the wall and I was straddling his thighs, half sitting on him as I gripped his arm and drank. His free hand gripped a chunk of my hair, but he made no effort to pull me away.

I heard him groan and found enough awareness in me to raise my eyes and watch his face. I had this flash of imagination, that his head would be thrown back and his eyes would be shut – whether in pain or pleasure I wouldn’t even begin to guess – but he wasn’t doing any of that. He was watching me as I fed, and his face was flushed and his teeth were nibbling his lower lip in a way that suggested he was in anything but pain.

My eyes locked with his and something happened that I’m sure neither of us had expected; he fell into my shimmering gaze, but at the same time it felt as though I fell into his. We each held a part of the other inside of us. There was no more Jace, no more Marie or Moth; just a need for blood and the willingness to give it  . . .

Jace is a gangly thirteen or fourteen in the vision I have of him. He’s tall for his age, but not yet filled out the way he is now. His father stands beside him and is teaching him how to use a crossbow. Jace can’t reload as quickly as Thomas Murdoch, much to the hunter’s irritation.

‘You’d be dead by now, in a combat situation,’ Murdoch Senior says.

‘We’re not in a combat situation,’ Young Jace replies, sounding more matter-of-fact than smartass.

His father clearly can’t tell the difference and whacks him on the back of the head with a meaty palm. ‘Stop answering back. Your attitude is going to get you killed, one of these days.’

The boy’s whole demeanor is sullen, oozing resentment like blood from a wound. ‘You never let me come with you on a real hunt, anyway.’

Murdoch glares. ‘You want to hunt with me? You really think that you’re ready for the monsters?’

‘I’ll never know, will I? Not if you don’t trust me to face them.’

‘The monsters are out there, son,’ his father says. ‘They’re real. As real as the crossbow you hold in your hands – and they won’t stop until you’re dead. The monsters never, ever stop.’

‘Because we’re their food source, I know all this.’ Young Jace looks impatient. ‘You’ve drilled this into me a thousand times. I’m ready.’

‘Your mother was ready,’ Murdoch says. ‘But she still died.’

Jace blinks, shocked at his father’s words. They rarely talk about what happened.

‘Mom was unlucky  . . .’

‘Luck had nothing to do with it. Never, ever rely on luck. Do you understand?’

Jace nods, but he doesn’t say anything.

‘They’re driven by one thing, plain and simple,’ his father tells him.

‘Survival?’

Murdoch Senior shakes his head. ‘Blood.’

I tore myself away from Jace, forcing myself to
stop
, knowing that he’d hate me for being in his head again. It was all over and we couldn’t even be friends – let alone anything more. I accepted that, though, if it meant I could get us both out of here and help him get free and safe. Then do something about the people here at the Facility and maybe even find out, once and for all, who Ten really was. Maybe help her too.

And then I realized that I was feeling better. A lot better. Jace’s blood had done its job, but at what price?

I rolled onto my knees and crawled toward him, still propped up against the wall, only now with his injured arm cradled against his stomach.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, feeling shame and hating that I felt that. I had to accept who I was –
what
I was. There was no other way to any kind of happiness for me. But it was so hard to do. Talk is cheap. Doesn’t matter how many self-help books you read, you still have to actually believe the affirmations.

Jace had his eyes shut, but he opened them as soon as he heard me move closer. I expected him to flinch, but he didn’t, and I allowed a treacherous thread of hope to tug at my heart.

He said, ‘Are you OK?’

And my heart almost broke, there and then. I laughed, but it came out as more of a sob. ‘
Me?
I didn’t just lose a pint of blood.’

I couldn’t believe that he was asking if
I
was OK. Jace had a way of keeping me off balance, and I loved it.

‘Come here,’ he said.

‘Why?’ I stayed where I was.

‘Because I’m too tired to move right now.’

I stared at him, mutinous.

‘Please,’ he said.

For some reason it was the ‘please’ that made the difference, and my resistance floated away like ash. I scooted closer, relishing the feeling of strength that filled my limbs, reveling in the sense of control, and the clear thoughts that ran through my unclouded mind. Thanks to Jason Murdoch’s blood.

His right hand – the uninjured one – reached out, and he used the cuff of his shirt sleeve to wipe the corner of my mouth. ‘You missed a spot,’ he said, with an expression on his face I wasn’t even going to attempt to read.

Despite our situation, I couldn’t stop myself from asking him something. I had to know for sure. ‘Are we  . . . OK?’

His eyebrows raised. ‘Why wouldn’t we be?’

I glared at him. ‘Why do you think?’

Jace sighed. ‘Moth, if you’re worried that I’m pissed because you did precisely what I asked you to do, then you don’t know me at all.’

I didn’t trust myself to reply. Especially not while I was beginning to feel that otherworldly post-feeding high start to kick in. I was just content that he was still talking to me. That things seemed totally normal between us.

Normal?
I’d just drunk his blood and taken another peek at his memories. I was lucky that he hadn’t slipped into my mind in return – who knows what he would have found. (I’d experienced that with Theo, on the rare occasions I’d taken blood from him). It was such an intimate thing, but in this particular instance Jace might have seen something of my conversation with Subject Ten, and that was no way to discover that the sibling you always believed to be dead was, in fact, alive. And a dhampir. I stifled a hysterical burst of laughter.

I had to find the right time to tell him. It seemed like I was always waiting for the right time, when it came to Jace.

‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to hide it.’

I frowned. ‘I didn’t say anything.’ Had he picked up on my growing feelings for him. Ugh. I hoped not. That would be a major embarrassment.

‘No, I mean  . . .’ He hesitated. ‘I
know
.’

‘What?’ I tried not to look guilty, but we all know how good I am at that.

‘About her. My sister.’ He placed a finger on my forehead, then moved it to his own. He nodded. ‘Mind-meld.’

Oh God  . . . he knew. He knew about Ten and about his family.

‘Jace  . . .’ I touched his arm. ‘Are you  . . . OK?’ I cringed. How could he possibly be OK after
this
revelation? We were in the middle of the worst experience of our lives as it was, and now this? I was surprised he hadn’t curled up in the fetal position and started rocking. He still hadn’t said anything. I shook him. ‘Talk to me!’

‘Am I OK?’ Jace smiled, but it was the saddest smile I’d ever seen. ‘
OK
isn’t exactly the word I’d use.’

I tried to think of something comforting to say. Something wise. Nothing was forthcoming; instead, it was Jace who broke the growing silence.

‘Forget it, Moth. At least for now. Let’s just focus on getting out.’

He was right. I had to make sure we got out of here in one piece. Jace’s blood was warming me from the inside out, and I didn’t want his ‘donation’ to go to waste. We’d break out, figure out what to do about Ten, then worry about the rest of it later. That was as good a plan as any.

I ripped the door off its hinges – yes, with my vamp senses back and working fine, I could now see in the dark again, see the hidden door easily – and placed it gently to one side. Hey, no need to clutter the place up.

There was no siren or anything, which struck me as beyond strange. Maybe we were doing exactly what Stark and her cronies wanted. I searched the walls and ceiling of the corridor, looking for any sign that this was yet another twisted experiment, but couldn’t see any more cameras.

That didn’t mean they weren’t there. I shivered. We had to act on the assumption that they’d been monitoring our little show inside. Knowing that made me cringe, but at the time neither of us had been all that bothered about having an audience.

As Jace and I walked along the corridor, I could feel a new sense of closeness vibrating between us. It was so weird. It wasn’t like with a kiss. And I hadn’t actually sunk my fangs into his flesh – not once. I hadn’t even nicked him. I’d simply taken his blood from an already open wound. And yet it felt like the most intimate thing in the world.

Now that I had time to think about it, I hated that Dr Stark would have seen that. Shared that experience in some way. It filled me with a visceral desire to make them all suffer, take away their power to hurt others. How many other vampires had they stolen and tortured?
Ended.

We still didn’t even know where this building was located – Stark had been particularly evasive about that. I figured we must at least be in Massachusetts because our friendly-neighborhood doctor had traveled from the Facility to her book launch. She couldn’t have had all that far to go, right? But that still meant we could be pretty far away from Boston, if we were really unlucky.

How could we find Jace’s car? Ten had driven us both here in it – that seemed likely – but they would have dumped it later, possibly torched it. I had to assume that we wouldn’t be able to find the car. Theo’s abilities included a small amount of telepathy, and maybe since I’d powered up off Jace’s blood my Maker would be able to reach me. Even in his own less-than-ideal state. Could his power cut through all the tranquilizers they’d shot me full of? If we could find out our geographical location, would it be better to somehow let my Maker know, then just hide out somewhere and wait for the cavalry? Hell, maybe we could find a
phone
. No, better not to hope for something as easy as that. Or for rescue. Better to believe we were on our own.