That grated a little. It was her decision, after all.
Bastien nodded.
Melanie frowned, eyeing the holes in the front of his shirt. “Do you need to feed?”
“Later. Let’s find Cliff and Joe.”
The foundation of the building suddenly shook as thunder rumbled outside. The walls vibrated. Cracked.
All three fought for balance and dodged pieces of ceiling that fell down around them.
“Was that a bomb?” she asked, peering toward the front of the building. She had seen no flash of light.
Bastien shook his head. “I think Seth just found Emrys.”
Ami’s heart pounded so erratically she had difficulty breathing. Standing in the doorway, she stared inside. Not at the vampire manacled to the table, but at the two men standing over him.
Her feet glued themselves to the floor. Her body began to tremble.
“Ami?” Marcus crowded her side and rested a hand on her back.
She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t pry her tongue from the roof of her mouth. Or silence the screams that erupted in her head.
Marcus’s hand clenched, tugging her shirt tight.
Fear and hatred and remembered pain must have tumbled the barriers of her mind, allowing the screams to batter him through the mental channel she used to communicate with him.
The foundation of the building suddenly shook beneath their feet. Thunder rumbled outside.
Seth must have heard, too. And David. Somewhere in the building the latter emitted a roar of rage.
Wind buffeted her as two presences loomed behind her.
“Is that him?” Seth asked.
Yes.
“Which one?” Marcus demanded.
Both of them were there. In Texas. Both of these men tortured me.
Seth growled and shoved Marcus aside. In a blink, he was across the room, the older of the two humans shoved up against the wall two or three feet off the floor, a dagger at his throat. “Emrys, I presume?”
Marcus shot forward and claimed the other before David could. His prey tried to swing a bone saw at him. Marcus knocked it out of his hands, grabbed him by the throat, and spun him around so his back was pressed to Marcus’s chest. A dagger appeared in Marcus’s hand and pricked the man’s throat.
David touched Ami’s back.
Forcing herself to breathe, she took a jerky step forward. Then another. Then another until she stared up into the eyes of the man Marcus held. He was only a few inches taller than her. Paunchy. Pale.
“Remember me?” she asked, infusing the words with all of the loathing she felt for him.
“No,” he lied, voice high and tense.
“You will,” she promised.
Bastien followed Melanie, cursing the fact that she was faster than him. He skidded to halt beside her just inside the door of what appeared to be an operating room with an observation gallery overlooking it.
Seth was choking one human and applying enough pressure with his dagger to make him wet himself.
Marcus held another man against his chest while Ami addressed him.
Melanie made a sound of distress and hurried over to the form on the operating table. Dried blood from countless wounds covered Cliff’s bare flesh. A couple dozen of them hadn’t healed and oozed blood. His eyes were closed.
Melanie leaned over him, drew a hand over his dreadlocks. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled onto Cliff’s forehead and cheek. “Cliff?”
“How do we free him?” Bastien asked the humans
Seth rammed his victim against the wall. “Answer him.”
The man clamped his lips shut.
Seth offered him a sinister smile.
The man grimaced in agony, abandoned trying to pry Seth’s hand loose, and started to claw at his own head.
Seth turned to Melanie. “There are several buttons on the underside of the table that open and close the cuffs.”
Bastien found the buttons for her and pressed them.
“It’s okay, Cliff,” she whispered. “We’re going to take you home.”
Bastien lifted the young vampire into his arms. As Melanie headed for the doorway, Bastien looked down at his friend.
Cliff’s eyelids raised a fraction. Just enough to expose sleepy, glowing eyes devoid of recognition.
And brimming with madness.
Unconsciousness reclaimed him.
Bastien swallowed hard, fought the grief and fear that rose within him. The madness couldn’t vanquish Cliff. It was too soon. They needed more time. And would have had it if he hadn’t been tortured.
Bastien swung toward Seth with a snarl.
We’ve got it covered, Seth promised, dark anticipation in the glowing golden gaze that met his.
Bastien nodded and followed Melanie out into the hallway.
Seth spun around and slammed Emrys back-first onto the table hard enough to knock the wind out of him at the very least.
Emrys cried out.
David waved his hand. The manacles clamped down on the mercenary leader’s limbs.
“I can make you rich!” Emrys screeched. “I can make you all rich!”
Seth’s lips stretched in a smile that nearly made Bastien shiver. “I can make you scream.”
The man began to shout for help.
None would come.
Ami stepped away from the man Marcus held and approached the table.
As the door swung closed without visual assistance, Bastien saw her reach for a scalpel.
“Dr. Lipton.”
Melanie turned away from the door behind which screams arose.
The French immortals all faced her, expressions somber.
“Melanie,” she corrected mechanically. Pain still rode her hard and she was feeling a little shell-shocked by the night’s events.
“We’ve found Joe,” Richart announced. And the gentle way he spoke warned her of what would follow.
Lisette came forward and touched her arm. “He’s conscious. But . . . there is only madness in his thoughts.”
Étienne nodded, face full of regret. “Only the ravings of a lunatic.”
Melanie stared through them. She couldn’t do this. All the pain and death and . . .
She couldn’t lose Joe tonight. Couldn’t stand quietly by while Bastien drew his katana and swung it. Couldn’t watch Joe’s head leave his body and tumble to the floor. See his body shrivel up until nothing of him remained.
Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over her lashes as she turned to Bastien. She shook her head. “Please . . . Not tonight. Not here. Not . . . like this. Not without even trying to bring him back to us. Please.”
His eyes glowed a vibrant amber that illuminated the moisture shimmering in them. These were his friends. She knew she was making it harder on him by asking him to delay the inevitable, but . . .
The relief she felt when he nodded weakened her knees and nearly landed her on the floor.
The siblings motioned to a doorway down the hall.
Melanie limped forward and passed through it.
Joe lay still on a table identical to the one that had restrained Cliff. Manacles, coated with blood from his struggles and the wounds the butchers had inflicted, held his arms, legs, and head down. His chest rose and fell in quick bursts.
As Melanie crossed to his side, his eyes opened and rolled her way. Luminous blue, they speared her with hatred. Spittle flew from his lips as he shouted words so slurred she couldn’t understand them.
“Joe?” she said softly. “It’s Dr. Lipton. It’s Melanie.”
Nothing. No change.
She reached under the table and pressed the button that would open the manacle holding his head immobile.
The heavy metal clamp sprang open and slid apart.
Joe instantly raised his head and snapped at her like a feral animal.
“Joe.” She struggled to speak soothingly around the lump in her throat. “It’s okay, Joe. You’re safe now. Cliff is here. And Bastien. We’re going to take you home.”