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  Isabella.

  His Isabella.

  Chapter Eleven

  She didn’t make a sound as she stalked her prey. Isabella crept down the hallway. Her target was close. He had to be close. Felix had gone to great lengths to get her, so she didn’t think he’d just rushed away and left her now.

  She turned the corner and crept into a lab. An exam table was in the middle of the room, surgical instruments were to the right, vials of blood to the left, and sitting there, curled over a microscope…Felix.

  She smiled and stepped forward.

  “So…Will is dead.” Felix turned toward her. He was in one of those rolling desk chairs, and the wheels squeaked as he moved to face her. “I watched the attack on my video feed.” He pointed toward a computer screen on his right. “You were absolutely vicious. Definitely lived up to your reputation.”

  She grabbed him by his neck and jerked him out of the chair. Did he think this was the part of the story where they talked? Where she learned his back story? Screw that. She didn’t care about his back story.

  Isabella snapped his neck. The snap was particularly satisfying to her. She let his body fall. He sprawled on the floor.

  “You will never hurt Griffin.”

  Felix’s eyes snapped open. “Don’t be too sure of that.”

  What?

  He grabbed her ankle and yanked, hard. She fell, and her head slammed into the stone floor. His laughter seemed to surround her. “Oh, Isabella,” Felix sighed. “What on earth made you think I was human?”

  She jumped back up, her hands flying toward him, but—Felix moved faster than she did. He grabbed a syringe, and he drove it into the side of her arm. As soon as the needle sank into her, she felt an icy cold shoot through her veins. Isabella shoved against him, and Felix let her go.

  But the cold just got worse.

  “I needed to experiment on you before I tried the cure on myself,” Felix said.

  Cure?

  “I couldn’t just try any ordinary vampire. That shit wouldn’t work. I’m a born, after all, which makes me a rare breed. And then add in the fact that my body chemistry is so different because I mated a wolf five centuries ago…and, well, you can see why I had to pick you.”

  Mated a wolf. Mated a—

  Isabella fell to the floor. The terrible cold was closing around her heart.

  Felix positioned himself so that he was standing over her. “It’s because you saw me in the day, right? That’s why you thought I was human?” He knelt beside her and smoothed a lock of her hair out of her eyes. “That’s one of the bonuses that comes from mating a werewolf. If you’d had the time, you would have seen that for yourself.” He tilted his head to better study her. “Feed on their kind long enough—the way that you can only feed with a mate because the bond has to be there—and you’ll start to get some of their powers, just as they get some of ours. After the first year, the sunlight didn’t bother me. I could stay out all day and be at peak strength.”

  Her heartbeat was slowing.

  “It was a good life, for a while.” He still had the syringe in his hand. He glanced at it, then tossed it away. “Then my mate died. It’s the werewolves who are supposed to get addicted, you know. They’re the ones who are supposed to crave us.”

  She could barely breathe. Her hands clawed at the stones beneath her.

  “But it’s been one hundred years, and I still need her just as fucking much.” Fury blasted in each word. He reached for his glasses and tossed those aside. “By the way, the compulsion didn’t work on me because compulsions never work on other vampires…back at your hotel in Vegas, I just told you that bullshit about the glasses.” He laughed. “And I told Will the bullshit about his contacts. The truth was…Will was already under my compulsion, so I knew any compulsion you tried to give wouldn’t have a chance of working on him.” His lips twisted. “Of course, you didn’t go the compulsion route with him, did you? You just went straight for his death. Very bloodthirsty of you.”

  The cold was the worst in her heart, and, oddly, in her right wrist. Where Griffin bit me.

  “I have to end the craving. The constant ache because Layela isn’t here any longer.” Felix shoved his fist over his heart. “I have to find the cure.”

  “Cure…” Isabella could barely force out the word. And did I just hear a wolf howl? “For…vampirism?”

  He laughed again, even harder this time. As if she’d just told the most hilarious joke ever. “Oh, dear hell, no. I’d never want to be cured of that.” He put his hand to her throat. “Your pulse is slowing down. I was worried about that…death might come, not the cure I want.” Frustration hummed in his voice. “If that happens, I’ll have to start all over again!”

  “What cure?”

  She heard a howl—she definitely heard it that time because the sound had come from very close by. Isabella managed to turn her head, and she saw a big, black wolf—a wolf with Griffin’s green eyes—standing just a few feet away. He’d found her. She wanted to smile for him, but—

  “The cure isn’t for vampirism.” Felix rose. And he pulled a gun from beneath his coat. “The cure is to end the mating bond. To sever it.” He aimed the gun at the wolf. “Did you hear me, Griffin? I’m cutting the tie between you.”

  The wolf leapt forward. Felix fired. The bullet slammed into the wolf, but Griffin didn’t stop. His claws hit Felix, and they crashed to the floor.

  Felix fired again.

  Isabella tried to crawl toward Felix and Griffin. She tried—

  Blood. The scent is so strong. Blood and…silver?

  “Liquid silver,” Felix snapped. “How do you like that shit? I bet it burns.” He heaved the wolf off him. And, once more, Felix rose. Unstoppable freaking Felix. He still had the gun in his hand. His gaze darted to Isabella. “Still with me?”

  She was going to kill him.

  The wolf’s body was slowly changing, sliding back into the form of a man as the fur seemed to melt from his body.

  “In order to test the cure, I had to find another born vampire who mated with a werewolf. I had to get the mating bond in place…if I didn’t have a vamp with the bond, then how could I break it?” Felix’s words came faster now. “Couldn’t experiment on me…what if the cure didn’t work? I’d kill myself…and I don’t want to die.”

  She crawled toward Griffin. He was so still.

  “You’re probably wondering what’s in the cure…”

  No. She was wondering how the hell she was going to kill Felix—and save Griffin.

  “Silver is in it. Silver was a necessary ingredient because the mating bite linked you. Thanks to the bite, you have part of his beast inside of you, and I have to kill that part. I found a witch in Rome back in the 1950s. She was able to help me create some of the other ingredients. A mix of science and magic…a cure that could sever the bond by freezing the heart.” He smiled, and it was a madman’s smile. “If it works on you, then I’ll finally, finally be able to live a damn day…” His shaking voice rose. “I’ll live a day without feeling as if my Layela ripped out my soul when she died!”

  Isabella touched Griffin’s shoulder. “G-Griff…”

  His head rolled toward her. His eyes seemed so dull. His skin was ashen.

  “Griffin has quite a bit more silver in him than you do, my dear,” Felix told her. “I’m afraid that’s another part of the cure. The werewolf mate has to die, you see. As long as he lives, a part of you will feel drawn to him. To see if the cure truly works, you have to experience everything I did. You have to lose your mate. Only then can I know that the gaping fucking hole inside goes away with the cure.”

  Griffin was dying. Right in front of her. No. Isabella shoved her hand to his mouth.

  But Felix grabbed her by the neck. He picked her up—as if she weighed nothing—and he tossed her across the room. Isabella hit the wall with a thud.

  “No!” Felix bellowed. “No, no, no! You don’t get to cheat! You don’t get to heal him! Didn’t you hear me?
He has to die…and you have to feel his loss!”

  The guy was a freaking psycho. Had he gone crazy when his mate died? Or just absolutely lost his sanity in all of the years he’d lived without her? Didn’t matter. He was still going to die that night.

  Felix stalked toward her. Isabella pushed herself up. And, behind Felix, she saw Griffin stagger upright. He was in the form of a man, but she caught the flash of his claws.

  I have to distract Felix. He needs to focus only on me. “Do you want to know what the cure feels like?”

  Felix hurried closer.

  Griffin bled…and lurched after him, not making a sound.

  “It’s ice,” Isabella whispered. She could barely stand. “It spread through my veins like the cold touch of death. Then it…centered…”

  “Where?” Felix demanded, wide-eyed. Right. This was his grand experiment. He’d want all the details.

  “M-my heart…” The heart that she couldn’t even feel beating any longer. But it had to be beating, didn’t it? Or else she wouldn’t be alive. Am I alive? “And…my wrist…” Her shaking hand rose and she turned her wrist toward him.

  “Is that where he bit you?” Felix’s expression was frantic. “Is that—”

  Griffin’s claws sank into Felix’s back. Felix screamed and tried to whirl toward Griffin, but Isabella was attacking, too. She grabbed the gun from Felix, and she fired at him, shooting him in the head, firing until the gun just clicked.

  Felix fell, but Isabella couldn’t move. Her whole body had gone numb, and, as if from a distance, she heard herself say, “He’s a vamp…he’ll come back…he’s…”

  Griffin’s claws came down once more, and Felix lost his head.

  “Not this time,” Griffin rasped. “He won’t…come back.”

  The surefire way to kill a vamp? Take the head.

  She tried to smile at Griffin. They’d won. They’d defeated the bad guy. Everything was supposed to be all right now.

  But then Griffin’s knees hit the floor. He toppled forward, slamming into her, and they both fell. Griffin landed on top of her. Liquid silver. Those bullets had been full of liquid silver. She shoved against him, but her strength was gone, and he was so heavy that she couldn’t move him. “Griffin?”

  Her hands slid weakly over his shoulders. His skin wasn’t warm. He was always warm—or he had been. But he was ice cold then.

  He’s dying. Normally, if a werewolf had been shot with a silver bullet, he’d just dig the bullet out. Or at least, she figured that was what he’d do. How did a werewolf handle liquid silver? Could he handle it?

  “Griffin?” I gave him my blood in the alley. When he was stabbed with a silver knife, my blood healed him.

  His mouth was near her shoulder. She couldn’t feel the stir of his breath against her skin. She could hardly feel anything…but fear. Fear was a deep, gaping chasm inside of her. Griffin couldn’t die. She wanted him in the world. She needed him there, no matter what the cost.

  She managed to bring her wrist near her mouth. Isabella used her fangs to slice open the side of her wrist, then she shoved her desperate offering toward Griffin’s lips. “Drink it.”

  It wasn’t about some mating bond. This was about survival. His survival. Because he mattered to her—mattered more than anything.

  At first, he didn’t take her blood. Isabella thought it was too late. She’d lost—

  His mouth closed over her wrist. He started to drink, and then she felt his bite, a quick flash of pain. Strange…she was surprised she’d even felt that pain. For a moment, the pain burned bright…

  Then she didn’t feel anything.

  He was still drinking, but her eyes were closing. Her breathing was slowing down, the way it did right before she surrendered to her day sleep.

  Had the sun rose? No, no, surely not. It wasn’t time. But her body was heavy. The consuming lethargy weighed her down. Her eyes shut.

  He kept drinking…

  Good-bye, Griffin.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sanity came slowly. A ferocious hunger had consumed him, a cold blackness had surrounded him, and Griffin had needed to fight his way back to reality.

  Reality.

  A blood-soaked room—or lab? A dead man to his right. And…Isabella.

  Griffin lifted his head, and Isabella’s arm fell back, falling limply to the stones beneath her. Her skin was stark-white, her eyes closed, and she was far too still. “Isabella?”

  She didn’t stir.

  He leapt to his feet. Weakness didn’t fill his limbs any longer. He’d been shaking when he attacked Felix. Griffin had used every ounce of his beast’s power to complete that kill. The silver had poured through his veins, and Griffin had been sure he was dying…

  Isabella saved me.

  She’d given him her blood. He—he remembered her wrist pressing to his lips. He remembered her sweet taste.

  Griffin scooped her into his arms and held her tight. She still didn’t stir. “Isabella?”

  Nothing.

  What have I done? Had he taken too much from her? Had he killed his mate?

  No, no. “No!” Griffin roared. His claws slashed open his forearm, and he put the blood before her mouth. She didn’t take it, so he rubbed her throat, trying to force Isabella to swallow. Trying to force her to live. Because she had to live, for him.

  He’d just found her. They’d only had days together. He wanted a lifetime—a dozen lifetimes. He wanted forever. He wanted her. Always. Only her.

  But the blood just trickled from the side of her mouth. She wasn’t swallowing it. She wasn’t responding. She was terrifying him.

  “Isabella?”

  He tried again, needing her to have his blood. He’d taken too much, Griffin realized that—he must have taken far too much from his Isabella when he’d been injured. If he could just give her the blood back, she’d be okay. If she’d just take the blood back.

  But even when he forced her to swallow, she didn’t wake. She didn’t stir.

  She just…her body grew colder.

  And the beast inside of Griffin went dead silent.

  ***

  “A transfusion?” Carter’s voice was quiet as he stood at Griffin’s side. “That’s not really the way vamps are supposed to take blood, is it?”

  Griffin didn’t look away from the bed or from Isabella. She was on that bed, her skin as white as the sheets beneath her. A nurse—a werewolf nurse—studied the blood as it slid into Isabella’s veins.

  “I thought vamps needed to drink blood,” Carter murmured. “Not get, um, infused—”

  “I’m giving her the blood any fucking way I can.” Griffin had tried to make her drink. It hadn’t worked. She’d swallowed some of his blood back at that hellish pit where Felix had died, but Isabella hadn’t roused. So he’d rushed her back to a werewolf safe house. She’d been there for two days. Two fucking days. She had a pulse, a very weak one, but her eyes hadn’t opened. Griffin had stayed at her side the entire time, but he kept thinking…she’s slipping away from me.

  “I read the files at Felix’s place.” Carter walked around the bed, moving to the other side. The tapping of his footsteps seemed too loud in the quiet room. “You know what he was doing, right?”

  Had Isabella’s fingers just moved a bit? Griffin wasn’t sure, so he took her left hand in his. Her skin was so cold.

  “Felix was a vamp, and his werewolf mate died a hundred years ago. He missed her,” Carter added. “Shit, you should see his journals.”

  Griffin didn’t want to see anything but Isabella.

  “They are filled with insane rambles about the world being dark. Being hell without his Layela. Felix wrote that he could barely breathe without her. That she was in his head every day.” Carter whistled. “I didn’t realize the mating bond was so intense. I talked to a few werewolves, and some of them have lost their mates to death. Despite the terrible loss, they kept going. They told me it hurt, but they got past their grief. They didn’t go…well, ass c
razy. But maybe it’s different when vamps and werewolves mate. The blood exchange, the different genetics, the—”

  “If she dies, I don’t know what I’ll do.” Get over her? Fuck, no, he couldn’t. “I don’t know what my beast will do.” His fingers caressed her inner wrist. “He’s silent now, because he’s afraid. But there’s danger in his fear. The fear cloaks rage, I feel it. If she dies…” Griffin forced himself to look up. “Stop me.”

  Carter blinked. “Stop you…from what, exactly?”

  Griffin just stared at him. “The beast will take over.” Because the man would break. “I love her.” Quiet, ragged. “Already…I love her. She’s in me, and I am in her.”

  Carter rocked back on his heels. “Not if Felix had his way, you’re not.”

  Griffin looked back at Isabella.

  “He wanted to sever the mating bond. To see if he could do it, the crazy asshole set out to create another bond like the one he’d had with his Layela. He needed a born vamp to form a mating bond with a werewolf. So he put Isabella in the path of werewolves. Those others—Felix had eyes on them. His guards. They saw that the first three werewolves were going for the kill as they closed in on Isabella. They had no hesitations—I read all this shit in his notes—so Felix had his men step in. They stopped the werewolves.”

  “And Felix took blood from them before they died.” Werewolf blood was too powerful of a commodity to waste. “That’s why the werewolves had puncture wounds on their necks.”

  “Felix put her in your path, just like he’d done with the others. But something different happened with you two. The link forged, and—bam. Felix had his experiment. And once he had you, he could finally try to break the link that had haunted him for so long.” Carter gave a grim laugh. “He was afraid the cure wouldn’t work. He didn’t want to die, so he needed Isabella to take the cure first. If she severed her connection to you and survived, then he wrote that he was going to try the same damn thing on himself—”

  “That’s it.” Griffin sat on the bed and pulled Isabella toward him. Her head sagged back weakly. “That’s fucking it.”