The floorboards in the hall creaked, and Nathan emerged from the shadows. His hair was still matted, his skin marred by the sigils he’d carved there in a time that seemed ages ago. But he was at least half-dressed, in a pair of jeans, and the feral anger was gone from his eyes.

The tenderness on his face broke my heart as he stroked my hair back from my forehead with the palm of his hand. “Thank you.”

“It was no problem. It’s still not the worst dinner party I’ve been to.” I smiled weakly, but inside I fell apart. I loved him enough to sacrifice myself, at least symbolically, on the altar of his pain. While he clearly appreciated my devotion, it was impossible for me to forget who he really wanted. I could never be Marianne. And he wasn’t ready to give her up.

And he knew that I knew. He lifted my hand in his and kissed my palm. “Don’t hate me.”

“I can’t hate you. I love you too much.” I didn’t fight my tears any longer. He held me, but it was a bittersweet comfort. Touching him, smelling him, feeling the pull of the blood tie between us wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

At least now we were acknowledging it.

The floorboards in the hall creaked again as Bella joined us. Max stepped out of the kitchen and Nathan reluctantly let me go.

I wiped my eyes as I watched Bella ease open the door to my bedroom. After what I’d seen and been through, I didn’t have the strength to explain why Cyrus was in our apartment. “Maybe now isn’t a good time to—”

“Where is he?” Bella stepped into my room. The light clicked on and she swore.

“Who is she talking about?” Nathan asked as I used his shoulder for support to stand.

Before she returned with the folded paper in her hand, I knew where he’d gone. There was no time to shield Nathan’s feelings. “She’s talking about Cyrus. And I know where he’s heading.”

Chapter 26
Desperation

“How could you have let him into my house?” Nathan raged for the third time since our conversation had started.

I took another hurried swig of blood as Max wrenched open the weapons closet. Inside, axes and crossbows and sharpened stakes were stockpiled, as though we were planning a return trip to the dark ages. Not that I’d be good for much. I was still weak from blood loss, but I was quickly recovering. Whatever strength I had to contribute, I would.