“We need a new vehicle,” Orson said. A moment later, I was in the back of another small car, spread across Nemo’s legs and whatever space was left. He seemed to take up the entire back seat as I kicked the door angrily, trying to distract myself from the incredible ache.
“What serum?” I growled. Zero never attempted medicating me after realizing chemicals wouldn’t work except in quantities he wasn’t capable of easily procuring. Minus the time I had a wee little tantrum and killed seventy percent of the inmates, give or take. Then, he had to use half his stock of sedatives to knock me out for a few brief minutes.
Bree turned around in the passenger seat and looked at me with rare concern.
“It’s his blood. The one that brings out your powers more. The one Nemo and I were given.”
It took a moment for the meaning of that to settle into my bones. And that’s when I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Ididn’t actually want to kill any of them. Mental breakdown or not. I’d rather be the weak one, the human with a parlor trick. A fuckable pet.
I reached for the door handle, panic blazing inside me. Frantically, I attempted to pull the door open and fling myself out of the moving car. I was half in Nemo’s lap, and I was going to kill him. I was going to kill all of them and wouldn’t be able to control it. I hadn’t feared doing that in a long time and I’d taken it for granted.
Nemo grabbed my wrists, refusing to let me open the door.
“I’m going to kill you,” I hissed. Not a threat, a chilling fact. I felt the serum spreading through my body in blazing pain. My body was weakening rapidly, and I fought for consciousness.
“It takes time to work,” Nemo said.
“Let me out,” I demanded weakly. He took a big breath and let it out.
“No.” And there it was. He was taking charge. I gave my last reserves of strength, thrashing in his lap, trying to break his grip on my wrists, but his strength was far beyond my own.
A wave of pain took my breath away before I passed out.
8
THE CANDY VAN
BREE
The horizon was turning orange when we pulled into a gas station. We'd lost Supra a while back. Orson turned the car off, then leaned across the center console towards me. He attempted to pet my sticky, blood-soaked hair even while the horizon brightened. Dhamphyr blood needed to be in his veins or he’d burn when the sun came up.
"Just drink," I sighed.
"In a moment," Orson responded. He cradled my face, slowly turning me towards him. Delicately, almost apologetic, his lips touched mine. If he thought I wasn’t still pissed at him, then he was wrong. If any one of the three of them should know that I don’t let things go, it was him. After all, I made sure to repay the favor of forced commitment while turning him into my braindead puppet for an amazing, albeit short, period of time.
"Feed, you're making me nervous," I said against his mouth.
"I've never seen you at dawn," he whispered. "I want to savor the way the sunlight hits you." His thumb brushed over my lips. The terrible thing about love was it could wash away justified anger so easily. I blew out a breath, annoyed with myself.
“Why did you try to leave them?” I asked.
“I’m sorry.” His gaze was steady when he apologized.
“You should be saying that to them, not me.” I looked at Nemo in the backseat. He was staring down at Baz who was still passed out. I sighed.
"It'll be your last dawn if you don't hurry and drink," I insisted. Orson’s hands ran down my arms before he buried his face in my hair. Fangs dragged down the length of my neck. The moment they pressed into me, I sagged in the chair. Orson drank mouthfuls of my blood, pulling even more anger from my body. When he finished feeding, he sat back, watching the sun rise.
“Can you read French?” Nemo asked him.
“Some,” Orson said. Nemo picked up the journal that had fallen out of Baz’s pants and threw it at Orson’s head.
“Make yourself useful if you’ve decided to stick around.”
“Oh, are you the boss now?” Orson picked up the journal from the floor and flipped open to the middle. Confusion passed over his face and he pulled the book closer.
“Yes, Iamthe boss now,” Nemo stated. Orson looked at Nemo in the rearview. I held myself still. Maybe if they fought, then things could be worked out.
Right then, Baz woke up. His gloved hand gripped Nemo's thigh as he pushed himself up on shaky arms. Deep breaths came from behind the mask. I remembered the burning pain of those shots—and the aftermath. They left you weak for days.
