the desk, Jude clearly waiting, Luc reluctant to speak. Yet he couldn’t blame Jude for his curiosity. Few enough vampires emerged on the other side of claiming, and he must certainly have been curious about it.
“The world is still bleak,” he said finally. “I may ask you for mercy.”
Jude lifted one brow. “I hope you don’t.” “It would be your obligation.” It was one obligation all vampires respected: if one of their kind could take this life no longer, a request for mercy—death—was always honored.
“Don’t ask it of me,” Jude said. “I need you.”
“For this fight?” Luc sounded almost scornful. “I don’t care anymore, Jude. I gave you the warning because I felt I owed it to you. If vampires want to destroy each other, why should I care?”
“You used to care. And maybe your problem right now is that you’re not allowing yourself to care about anything. You’re wallowing, Luc.”
The rage that flashed through Luc just then almost made him leap across the desk and attack Jude. He gripped the arms of his chair until his fingers buried themselves in the leather and then the padding beneath. “How would you know what I am going through?” The words emerged from between his clenched teeth.
“You’re right, I don’t know,” Jude replied calmly. “But I know what you used to be. What I see before me now is a man who won’t let go.”
“I can’t let go.”
“Perhaps not.” Jude sighed. “If you want to die, at least die doing something important. Don’t make it pointless by asking me to break your neck.”
The tension between them nearly made the air sizzle. But then Luc released his anger, acknowledging that it was misdirected. Jude wasn’t his problem. An interrupted claiming was his problem. Weariness was his problem.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.” Jude leaned forward and drummed his fingers on the desktop. “I should probably just take Terri and run. If there’s going to be a bloodbath, she’s my first concern.”
“It would be the wise thing, but I’ve noted you often avoid the easiest course.”
Jude flashed a brief smile. “It looks that way.”
Luc shook his head. “Oh, you always have a reason for what you do, mon ami. Battling demons, fighting your own kind. Most would call that insane.”
“I call it necessary.”
“Which is exactly why you won’t flee.” Luc released his grip on the chair arms and crossed his legs. “And you have a problem now in your office.”
“When do I not?”
One corner of Luc’s mouth twitched upward. “True. But this one is intriguing. She can’t be human.”
“Not fully, in any event. That much is clear.”
“We—or you, actually—must now concern ourselves with whether she might be an additional threat. She smells human, however, or I would not have brought her here.”
“I agree about her aroma. She certainly doesn’t smell like anything else I’ve ever met.” He drummed his fingers again briefly. “Well, she’s certainly not in league with the rogues. I doubt even someone who heals as swiftly as she does would have volunteered to be treated like that.”
“I agree. So now let us go learn what we can.”
The blood he had drunk had energized him, cold and nearly lifeless as it was. Things didn’t look quite as bleak as they had when he’d arrived here hungry. But they were still bleak.
Natasha’s death had left a gaping hole in his heart, his mind, his life, and he was sure he would never be able to fill it.
But for now, he decided, perhaps Jude was right. If he was going to choose death, he might as well die fighting. The idea better suited his nature. Maybe that was why he had hesitated to take the final step for so long: the notion of leaving quietly just didn’t fit him. A death in battle … well, there was something to be said for that.
Dani had showered and changed into a pair of too-tight, too-short jeans and a baggy sweatshirt that Chloe and Terri had managed to find for her. She still huddled in a corner of the couch but no longer looked ready to spring.
And she smelled better. Luc appreciated the fact that he didn’t have to keep fighting the allure of her blood. As a human morsel she enticed him amply. He had needed to feed not only because he had been hungry, but because when he was hungry, resisting temptation became harder.
Now that she was cleaned up, he could see she was pretty. Her eyes had an unusual blue-gray color that reminded him of something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Her hair, wet and straight to her shoulders, showed premature streaks of white and gray amidst the dark curtain. Around her neck on a leather thong was an unusual crystal wolf’s head that caught and splintered light.
A curious, unusual human to be sure. If human she was.
Luc looked at Jude, who nodded. So he began.
“I saved you,” Luc said. “I took you from the park. I found you near death, and while I was preparing to take you from there, one of the rogues who attacked you arrived to finish you off. I gutted him, Dani Makar. I gutted him and broke his neck, then carried you away.”
Horror and satisfaction warred on her face. Horror, no doubt, at his description of the kill, but satisfaction from knowing one of her attackers had met such a fate. She scowled. “You didn’t save me for my sake.”
“No,” Luc agreed. “I brought you here for the sake of my friend, Jude. You were proof of what I had to say.”
“So why should I care?”
“Because you’re still alive.”
Her frown deepened, but she moved uneasily. He leaned toward her, lowering his voice to that hypnotic tone that usually got vampires what they wanted. He fixed her with his gaze, holding her in thrall.
“What are you, Dani Makar?”
She didn’t respond. Some mortals were immune to being vamped, although not very many, but he was disappointed anyway. They needed to know, and she was refusing to tell. He did note, however, that she didn’t quite seem able to break from his gaze. At least he had that advantage.
Then he noticed something else, something that unsettled him to his very core: her gaze was holding him as much as his was holding hers. It was calling to him almost as strongly as her blood. He wanted her in every way possible.
“Merde!” he swore and tore himself away.
Chloe’s sarcastic voice filled the room. “Another fail for the great St. Just.”
“Chloe,” Jude said sharply. “We have enough on our plates. Don’t give Luc a hard time.”
“At least not until you tell me I can,” she said too sweetly. “Or until the next time
