“Damn.” He watched me, his brow creased. “Then lucky for you I’m here. I’ve been looking into things, and I know where you need to go.”
“Where?” I failed to keep the naked eagerness out of my voice.
“The parachemist who created the Nightshade formula in the first place—everyone thought he worked alone, but they were wrong.”
Declan crossed his arms. “He didn’t?”
Jackson shook his head. “He had a partner a couple years ago, Dr. Victor Reynolds. He works out of a covert research facility on the edge of the city. He wants to meet you—both of you—to see if he can do anything to fix this.” His previously amused expression faded, and I was surprised to see concern now etched there. “Look, I don’t know you, Jill, but I can see that you’ve been through a lot of bad shit. You’re not a part of this world. You shouldn’t have been dragged into it.”
“You’re right, she shouldn’t have,” Declan said, and we shared a look. I’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and come between him, his gun, and a man who’d used me as a hostage before injecting me with Nightshade—the only sample of it there was.
Only a week ago I didn’t know vampires were real. That there was a branch of science that specialized in the paranormal. That a formula could be developed that would make my scent irresistible to vampires, but one taste would turn them into fire and ash. I’d fallen head first down the rabbit hole, and I’d been looking for a way out ever since. Looked like Jackson just might have a map for me.
While I could never forget everything I’d seen and experienced, I was ready for this roller-coaster ride to be over once and for all.
“When can I meet Dr. Reynolds?” I asked.
Jackson looked at each of us in turn. “How does now sound?”
WE DROVE WITH Jackson forty minutes across Los Angeles to what looked like a small, run-down warehouse on the edge of the city. Declan parked about two hundred yards away from it, shielding the car behind a Dumpster.
“You’re sure this is the right place?” I asked as I stepped out of the passenger side of the car and warily eyed the unfamiliar location.
Jackson slammed the rear car door behind him. “Yeah. It’s a secret research facility. Emphasis on the secret part, which is why it doesn’t look like much from up here. It’s all underground. The place goes twenty stories down.”
“What kind of research do they do here?” Declan asked.
“What kind do you think?”
Declan looked at the building. “They keep vampires here?”
Jackson nodded. “Locked up in the basement. If you’re doing research, you gotta have some guinea pigs at the ready. A few days starved off blood and they make for better test subjects; their vampiric traits can’t be hidden anymore. Saving mankind from the monsters is hard work.” He grinned. “Come on. I promise nobody’s going to get bit.”
Funny guy. All his flippant comment did was give me second thoughts about this. A shiver went down my arms, and my stomach began to churn. I had to remember that guys like Jackson were used to this sort of thing and could find the humor where I didn’t. Still, things felt off. I didn’t like the prospect of being anywhere where I knew vampires were hanging around, even if it was against their will.
However, my motivation for getting rid of the Nightshade was strong. I really wanted to live, so I summoned all the courage I could and followed him.
We walked around to the front of the building, and Jackson pushed open the large front door. There was a security camera mounted up to the left on a ledge to keep an eye on visitors.
I grabbed Declan’s arm before he went inside. “Can I talk to you?”
He flicked a glance at Jackson. “Give us a minute.”
“I’ll wait inside.” Jackson entered the warehouse and closed the door behind him.
Declan turned to me. “What is it?”
“You sure you trust this guy?”
“Yes. I’ve known him ten years—we trained together. He’s always known I’m a dhampyr and he never held it against me like some of the others did. He’s a good guy.”
I could tell that he meant every word.
I was quiet for a moment. “You know, he kind of reminds me of somebody.”
“Who?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You.”
Declan snorted humorlessly “You mean, if I wasn’t all scarred up and pumped full of drugs that make me into a robot.”
I frowned. “Declan—”
“It’s true, Jill. And I know it. Talking to him earlier—what you overheard. He knows me. He knows that you and I can’t . . .” His jaw tensed. “Not anymore.”
Declan and I had sex once when he’d briefly gone off his emotion-and-desire-repressing serum for the first time in his adult life. He’d never been with anyone before me, but he’d been a very quick learner.
I pressed my hands against the hard planes of his chest and looked up at him. “I am willing to give it a shot. You never know what might happen with a little experimentation.”
He searched my face. “You’re looking for a miracle.”
I nodded. “Every damn day, actually.”
“This isn’t one of them. This serum’s permanent.”
“I don’t believe anything’s ever completely permanent.”
I went up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his. He didn’t push me away, but he didn’t kiss me back, either. I could taste him, I could feel him, I could touch him. But I couldn’t be with him—not really. It was so frustrating. Sometimes it was difficult not to remember how good it had been between us. It hurt to think it might never happen again.
For such a tough-looking man, one you might not want to run into in a dark alley, one who looked like he could kill someone with his bare hands—and Declan could—I literally ached for him. But it was an ache that would have to go untended. Like he said, he was like a robot right now—virtually emotionless and without the distraction of lust or desire. Too bad. They were very worthy distractions.
His gray eye held an edge of regret when I pulled back from him. “I’m sorry, Jill.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“It’s good that we’re here. I knew Jackson could find somebody to help us. Then you can go back to your normal life and forget all about this.” He pushed open the warehouse door and walked through to join Jackson on the other side.
His message was clear. I could forget about him.
Because Declan Reyes, dhampyr vampire hunter, one with scars deeper than just physical, a man I couldn’t make love to no matter how much I wanted to, thought he had no place in my regular human life.
The ache I already felt for him spread to my heart because I knew he was right.
TWO
“No guards?” I asked skeptically after entering the cavernous interior of the warehouse.
“Downstairs,” Jackson replied. “There are security cameras everywhere. Very few people know this place exists, and everyone who works here is screened and background-checked. The elevator only works for those who know the code.” He grinned. “Feel better?”
I scanned the seemingly empty space. “Not really.”
“Just chill. It’s fine. This place has been around for years. Follow me.”
Jackson led us to an elevator that, after he punched in a code that he shared with Declan so he’d know what it was, took us deep below ground.
Dr. Reynolds was waiting for us at the end of a long hallway in a large white room. He was fiftyish, with fine features and dark hair that was salt-and-pepper at the temples. Wire-framed glasses perched on his nose. With the white coat over his clothes and a stethoscope hanging around his neck, he looked like a family doctor who’d graduated top of his class. This helped ease my mind a little.