To Love and Serve (18 page)

He laughed. “Brave talk for someone who’s dying. Of course, it will be much more amusing if you live. I imagine the Slayer Council won’t be very pleased that you failed your mission and let one of the elders die on your watch.”

Slapping his hands on his thighs, he leaned forward to take a last look at his brother. He was still alive. The shallow rise and fall of his chest confirmed it, as did the gurgle in his throat. He must have cut into his chest a little too deep, but no matter.

Even if Michaela managed to save him, Ben would be a ruined man. A failure in the eyes of his slayer buddies.

Sometimes it was harder to live than to die.

With a last glance at his satisfying work, he rose and headed out of the room, eager for his next kill.

Chapter Thirty

Diana stumbled on the threshold leading out of the valve chamber, unable to lift her foot high enough to clear the low barrier. Ryder grabbed hold of her arm to help and she offered him a tired smile.

“Do you want to rest?”

“No. There’s no time for that.” She could not stop now. Not even if her legs were as heavy as after a marathon. Her heart beat so hard she imagined Ryder could see her skin jumping above it. At her core, that ever-present knot of cold had loosened, sending icy threads throughout her body. Combined with the sweat on her skin, she could barely hold back from shivering, but she had to keep it together. People were depending on her.

In the valve chamber, they flipped on bright vapor lamps to investigate the room, which led them to find a small hall off one end of the chamber. A quick sweep of their flashlights revealed the hall had been built more than a century earlier. Its walls were made of thick blocks quarried from the schist stone commonly found in Central Park. The brick floor was rough and uneven and wet. Everything in the hall was wet, and dank, and dark. From the hall, a long, sloping, stone staircase led deeper underground. The steps glistened from moisture that seeped down the walls like tears from the earth.

At the far side of the hall an old rusty door, barely hanging on its hinges, opened into the darkness. Jesus aimed a flashlight into it. “Looks like another tunnel.”

Diana crouched low to the ground, searching for evidence this was the right place. She beamed light across the uneven brick, but even with the illumination and her sensitive night sight, she found no traces of blood to guide them.

Maybe Benjamin’s wound had begun to knit? Or maybe he was dead. Either way, they had to push on.

But where?

She stood and peered at the stairs, then at the tunnel. Jesus stood by the tunnel entrance, anxiously looking both ways. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Diego whipped his head to and fro, as if to shake loose his demon. “No need to guess. The scent of blood is much stronger now.” His eyes gleamed that eerie vampire neon, and his fangs burst over his lower lip. In full vampire mode now, he went swiftly to the first sloping step.

Ryder also morphed and hurried to where Jesus stood. Evangeline reached under her jacket and withdrew a long, nasty-looking stake. Really? Diana gritted her teeth. The slayer still didn’t trust vampires, even though they were trying to help her friends.

“Put that away,” Diana warned as the two vampires sniffed the air at each entrance.

“Not while they’re in demon mode,” Evangeline replied, her gaze shifting nervously from Diego to Ryder.

“You have to learn to trust. We’re on the same side in this.”

Diego slipped back into his human form, and said, “I smell blood this way. A great deal of it. More than just spatters.”

Ryder pulled back his demon and shook his head at the tunnel. “Nothing that way.”

Diana quickly joined Jesus where he already stood with Diego at the wide steps. The staircase seemed almost endless, leading deep into midnight nothingness. Jesus looked ready to hurtle down into the unknown. She glanced at Diego. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. But judging from the strength of the smell, I’m afraid it may be too late.”

Jesus whipped him a stricken glance.

“God, I hope not,” she murmured. She put a tentative foot on the slick top stair. She slipped, and caught herself, then moved down another step. Ryder appeared at her side, and they started the descent.

Right behind them, Jesus snapped on his flashlight. The light, small as it was, would make them sitting ducks to anyone at the bottom. She drew her weapon, ready to return fire. The gun, once almost an extension of her hand, now seemed to weigh a ton.

Their footsteps echoed along the stone walls that dripped more noisily the deeper they got. Something scurried in front of her and she jerked up the Glock, but it was only a sewer rat, as large as a cat. She didn’t even want to think about what else might be down here. Finally, they reached the bottom of the stairs. And another tunnel loomed in front of them. She glanced at Ryder. “Can you tell which way to go?”

He nodded, without assuming his vampire state. His expression was grave.

Damn
. If he could smell it even as a human, that meant a whole lot of blood.

…

Pain scorched every move Michaela made. The stake scraped against her ribs and tore at muscle and flesh as she tried to help Benjamin. With sausage-thick fingers, she fumbled to tighten the second of the makeshift tourniquets she’d tied just above his slashed wrists. Waves of dizziness danced around the blackness creeping into her vision from the pain. She moaned and slumped against the wall, tears trickling down her cheeks, and wished for a brief moment that her suffering would just end.

But no. She would not give up the fight. Not until her last breath.

“Feed,” Benjamin rasped, and his bloodied hand flopped feebly.

No doubt he sensed she was fading fast. He was being noble. Sacrificing himself for her.

Hell, no.

She shook her head. “No. I can’t. I won’t,” she wheezed, even as the demon within her licked its lips at the thought of tasting slayer blood. The pain and her weakened state had allowed the monster to emerge, and she’d battled it for dominance since Bartholomew left.

She hated that loss of control. Would not give into it. But it took everything in her to keep the greedy demon from having its way. Her senses were in overdrive, hyper-aware of everything around her—including Benjamin’s fading life force. And his blood.

Despite the tourniquets, blood still leaked from his slashed wrists, pooling on the floor and her legs as she cradled him. “Hold on, Ben. Please hold on.”

“Feed.” It seemed to take all his effort for that one word.

His powers fluctuated, wavering like a flame in the wind as each pulse of his heart pumped crimson temptation from his wounds.

But even if she’d let herself, she didn’t know if she had the strength to feed. The poisoned stake was doing its job well.

She laid her head against his, and stroked his hair. It was matted with blood, sweat, and tears—his and hers—from his shattered face. Together, they listened to the fading beat of their hearts.

At least they wouldn’t die alone.

…

Diana swung her flashlight in a low arc, then swerved it back to a smudge on the stone floor. It was a big boot print, just like the one she’d spotted at Aja’s apartment.

“He’s been here.” She raised her weapon beneath her flashlight. Sweeping them back and forth along the tunnel, her arms trembled from fatigue and the weight of the gun. But she spotted another mark—a smeared path of blood, as if someone had been dragged from the room.

The low murmur of a voice filtered out into the tunnel. A woman’s voice.

Michaela? She was alive!

Diana silently signaled her companions to stop. Jesus swiftly came to her side to cover her, Ryder to her back. Crouching low, guns ready, they executed a quick three-point entrance.

The scene before her stopped her short. Jesus and Ryder also pulled up in shock.

Michaela sat slumped against the wall, a man’s body cradled in her arms—Benjamin, she assumed. The young woman was barely able to lift her gaze, and when she did, vampire neon glittered bleakly in eyes filled with pain and failure—emotions Diana knew too well from watching her father die.

In that moment, she knew Michaela almost as well as she knew herself.

She, Jesus, and Ryder moved as one toward the wounded slayers.

As they gently eased Michaela away from Benjamin so they could tend to both of them, she moaned, and whispered, “Help him first.”

Diana turned to Benjamin, but Ryder was already taking his pulse and checking his wounds. As their gazes met, he gave his head a small shake.

“He’s lost too much blood,” he said regretfully, and went to help Jesus with Michaela. Diego joined them, crouching alongside the wounded slayer as Evangeline sank down on her haunches by Benjamin.

The other woman brushed some of the gore from Benjamin’s face and he roused. He whispered, “Feed. Michaela.”

Evangeline looked over her shoulder at Michaela, and shook her head. “The silver’s already in her system, Ben. It’s time for both of you to stop suffering.”

It took only a second for Diana to see the slayer’s heartless intent as she wrapped her hands around Ben’s head. Before she could give it a final twist, Diana bolted forward and pointed her gun at the woman’s head.

“Do not even think about it. Not on my watch.” Her hands were steady, but her arms trembled.

Evangeline snarled, “Insolent bitch. This is none of your concern.”

“Back away. I
will
shoot,” she warned. A second later, Jesus was at her side, his weapon trained on Evangeline’s heart.

“I’d do as she asked,” he said, his voice deceptively calm.

The slayer raised her hands in surrender. She stood and faced them, a regal tilt to her head and venom in her tone. “You’ll regret this.
If
you live that long.”

“We’ll see,” Diana said, beyond furious.

“You’d better hit the road before I splatter your brains across this room,” Jesus ground out.

Ryder stepped between them calmly. “Besides, I suppose you’ve got some explaining to do to your fellow Council members.”

Evangeline was practically spitting nails as she wordlessly spun and stalked from the chamber. Diana didn’t drop her weapon until the sharp tattoo of her footsteps faded. Then she let out a breath and turned back to Michaela and the others.

Diego shook his head. “She’s in bad shape. The stake was soaked in silver nitrate. We need to get her to feed.”

“Feed? As in blood?” Jesus asked in surprise.

“She’s a dhampir—half vampire. Like us, blood can restore her. But even so… there’s a lot of physical damage to her human body.”

Shock swept over Jesus, then it was gone. “I’ll get the car. We can get her to a hospital—”

Diana laid a hand on his arm, wondering exactly how much he understood about the world into which Michaela had dragged him. “No hospital. That’s not what happens with vampires. Either Diego or Ryder will—”

“Ryder can handle this,” Diego cut in. “He can get her to Melissa for treatment while I deal with Benjamin.”

Diana tracked his gaze. “We can’t just leave him here. He should come, too. We have to do something.”

Diego nodded somberly. “I’ll stay with him so he’s not alone, and help him as much as I can.”

Ryder cradled Michaela in his arms. “What will you do?” he asked Diana.

Diana forced a smile. “We still need to find Bartholomew. But you go. Take care of Michaela.”

Jesus reached for Michaela and gripped her hand tightly. “I’ll be with you soon, love.”

A faint smile ghosted across her features before she closed her eyes and her head dropped against Ryder’s chest.

In a burst of vamp speed, Ryder vanished through the door. Jesus started to follow, but Diana grasped his arm. “Don’t worry. She’s in good hands.”

With a mumbled curse, he stopped, then looked toward the dying slayer on the floor. “What can we do for him?”

“Nothing,” Diego answered quietly. He was kneeling beside Benjamin, holding his hand. Benjamin murmured something low and unintelligible. Diego leaned forward, bringing his ear close to him, and Benjamin whispered something again.

Diana couldn’t make out what he said. “Diego?”

The vampire elder sat back on his haunches, his hand still locked around the slayer’s as he comforted him. “You need to go. Bartholomew will be hunting again, and there is nothing more you can do here. I’ll take care of him.”

Diana felt heartsick, but she trusted Ryder’s friend. “I know you will. Come on.” She tugged on Jesus’s arm. “We need to go catch this fucker.”

As they headed up the long staircase, the adrenaline driving her began to tap out. Her knees wobbled, and she braced a hand on the wall. Jesus was there immediately, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her upright.

She grabbed his shoulder, fighting the weakness sweeping through her body.

“Diana?”

“I just need a moment.” She sucked in a deep breath, harnessing what strength she had left. They still had one more thing to do before she could give in to the weakness. “We need to go to The Lair. His ego is so big, he’ll think he’s home free, now that he’s taken care of these loose ends.”

“Are you up to it?” Jesus asked with a frown.

She nodded, shaky but determined. The time spent with the wounded slayers had given her heart and breathing a chance to slow to nearly normal. She reached deep for the last of her reserves. Despite her protest, Jesus kept his arm around her waist.

“God save me from stubborn women,” he grumbled. “Just accept the damned help so we can move faster. We need to roll.”

They made good time, quickly climbing the stairs to ground level, then hurrying through the lobby and out to where Jesus had parked his car. He started the engine with a roar, looked over at her, and said, “Let’s go get that son of a bitch.”

Chapter Thirty-one

Ryder carefully laid Michaela on the treatment table in Melissa’s back room, wincing at the bloody mess. He’d hated to yank out the stake, but leaving it in would likely have killed her because of the silver contamination. Even with the tight pressure and a makeshift bandage, she’d bled through the packing. Her skin was parchment white. Her limbs were limp and lifeless as he cut away her blood- and sweat-soaked clothes.

“Wooden stake soaked in silver nitrate. Nasty. It pierced her lung. No pneumothorax, thankfully,” Melissa murmured as she examined her. “In low doses, silver nitrate is an external antiseptic, but in a higher amount, it’s corrosive.”

She set up an IV and inserted the needle into Michaela’s arm.

“If we can get her to feed, her hybrid cells may be able to battle the poison,” Ryder said as he gently removed the packing from the wound in her side. Fresh blood welled up. If he could flush the area clean, she might begin to heal.

He grabbed a wash bottle of sterile saline solution. The first squirt into the wound had Michaela moaning and shifting on the table.

“It’ll feel better in a moment,” he said reassuringly. “You can help us by getting stronger.”

Melissa brought a blood bag to her mouth, but the young slayer jerked her head away.

“Not like them. Don’t feed.”

He’d experienced those same emotions in the days and weeks after he’d been turned. For centuries, he’d denied what he was, until Diana had helped him make peace with his state. But Michaela didn’t have centuries or weeks or even days left.

“Do you want to live?” he asked.

The look of desperation she gave him said it all.

As disgusted as she might be about giving in to the demon, she let it loose. With a hungry growl, her eyes went bright and the nascent bumps on her teeth exploded into short fangs. She sank them through the plastic of the bag even as tears trickled from her still-human eyes.

Melissa stroked her hair and murmured, “Always choose life, Michaela. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

As Ryder gently cleaned the wound, the bleeding slowly stopped. But the edges were ragged and gaped open. “This needs stitches.”

Melissa took away the empty blood bag. “I can do it if you need to go.”

“No, I can handle it.” He gathered what he needed and went to work, trying to keep away distracting thoughts about what was happening to Diana.

Jesus had trusted Ryder with something precious.

He had to trust Jesus would be just as careful with his precious lover.

…

The wail of their siren filled the night, and their blue and red lights flashed as Diana and Jesus raced to The Lair. They’d called Detective Daly and he was on his way with police backup. Jesus took a corner and shot up the ramp to the West Side Highway so fast the car caught air when they hit a bump. Diana braced her hands against the seat and dash, but the impact of tires on pavement still rattled her bones. Every molecule in her body ached.

Jesus was grimly silent as he wove through the scattered traffic where the highway ended on 12
th
Avenue. Abruptly, he asked, “Is this what it’s been like for you since you met Ryder? This crazy wedge between your world and his?”

She sighed. “Yeah. There were many days I dragged my ass into the office dead-tired. Like, tomorrow, I’m guessing.” She let out a shaky laugh.

“Not betraying his world, helping him during your suspension, almost cost you your job.”

“The least I could do. Ryder saved my life, in more ways than one.”

“Seems to me he’s
taking
it now. I can see what it took out of you to make that trek through the tunnels tonight.” He swerved around a taxi pulling into the heliport on 30
th
.

Diana couldn’t deny it. Even now her arms and legs were leaden with fatigue and her skin chilled from the sweat she’d worked up earlier. Her heartbeat had slowed, but an ache remained deep in her core.

No, she wasn’t well, but she was alive, and she intended to stay that way…
one way or another.

“I’ll survive somehow,” she said. “Don’t count me out just yet.”

He smiled at her.

“Not a chance. You’re too hard-headed to die.” Then his smile faltered and he swallowed. “Damn.”

She didn’t have to ask what he was thinking of. Or, rather, whom. “She’ll be okay. Melissa is an amazing doctor.”

When he looked her way, she saw something she’d never seen before in his eyes—fear. “You think so? That wooden stake. I’ve never—Christ, it’s fucked up.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. And as she looked at him, she saw the depth of his feelings for Michaela. Her lips parted in surprise. “Oh, God, Jesus. I didn’t realize…
”

He blew out a breath. “I love her, Di. More than I ever thought possible. It scares the shit out of me because I know our two worlds are bound to destroy each other at some point.”

Diana wished she could tell him differently, but she couldn’t. Instead, she offered up the only thing she could. Hope.

“Don’t worry. Love will always find a way.”

…

Ryder smiled, pleased with the strong, steady pulse beneath his fingertips. A healthy flush marked Michaela’s cheeks, and her forehead was dry and not overly warm.

She stirred and looked up at him, her gaze devoid of any hint of the vampire. She offered a hesitant smile, her teeth perfectly straight and white. Fang-free, he thought with relief.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, keeping his voice low and soothing.

“Better.”

She tried to rise but flinched, and he applied gentle pressure on her shoulder to keep her lying down.

“We’ll get you to a more comfortable bed in my guest room in a few minutes. But take your time and let the blood do its work first.”

“I’m not healed yet?” Her hand had shifted beneath the space blanket to where she’d been staked. Even the breath for those words seemed hard fought.

“It may take some time. Human time, I‘m thinking.”

She groaned with exasperation. “You’re talking weeks? The Slayer Council—”

“Isn’t going to be too happy with you anyway,” he said wryly.

Michaela grimaced. “No doubt I’ll have a permanent bullseye on my back after tonight. Benjamin was one of the few friends I had on the Council and I failed him. Failed them all.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Is he—”

“I suspect so,” Ryder said sympathetically. “Diego stayed with him, but I haven’t heard anything, so… ”

“He was a good man. He didn’t deserve what Bartholomew did to him.” Tears broke loose and trickled down her cheeks.

Ryder clamped his jaw. “Diana and Jesus will take care of Bartholomew.” And he needed to get to The Lair as soon as possible to help them.

Michaela’s watery gaze snapped to him, glittering with pain and frustration. “How can you be so sure?”

He was confident, if worried. He had sensed his lover’s weakness tonight, and knew it had been an enormous effort just to reach Michaela and Benjamin. But he also knew the deep well of courage that was the source of her strength. She would finish what she had to do. And he wanted to be there with her.

“I’m sure,” he said, “because I know my Diana. Benjamin and the others will have justice tonight.”