The question stunned him more than his desire to batter Mal. Whyshouldhe be grateful? Charlie was nothing to him and had been agiantpain in the ass since they met. Sure, the intensity of his lust for her was something new in a life he’d found pretty stagnate for a while, but so what?
Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about trying to figure it out as Mal took a right-hand turn into another tunnel, and they entered a smaller cavern. This one was a ten-foot circle with a blanket against the far wall, some clothes, and a pile of weapons that included two rifles and a couple of handguns. He realized Mal had brought him to his room.
“Do the guns work?” Jack inquired as Mal turned to face him.
“Yes, and we have wooden bullets for them; not as many as I would like though.”
Jack didn’t know if this was a veiled threat or the facts, but his fangs pricked in response. “What are we doing here?”
“I wanted to learn more about you and how you came to be here.”
“Why?”
“Because there are nine others out there whose lives I’ve protected since taking them in and I’m going to continue doing so.”
Some of Jack’s animosity eased as he gazed at the vamp across from him. Was his jealousy clouding his judgment of this man? Mal seemed genuinely confused by Jack’s attitude toward him, and if he didn’t watch it, he’d find himself thrown back into the hunt or dead.
Taking a deep breath, Jack forced himself to relax and stop being so hostile—which wasn’t exactly easy as he wasn’t the friendliest person under the best of circumstances, never mind bad ones.
At one time, he’d been the one everyone wanted to be around; the class clown, the life of the party, and then that party came to a screeching halt. He’d planned to become a veterinarian, marry, have two kids and the white picket fence of the American Dream.
Instead, he’d gotten blood and death and the dread of being uncovered as a vampire and killed. He’d been in that bar with Mike and Doug because they were looking for a place to retreat if they had to flee their current home.
He would never trade the life he had for the one he dreamt of as a kid; his friends were his family, their children his nieces and nephews, and they had a good life. He just wished it wasn’t so violent and that he had more of a reason to wake up other than opening his eyes.
“What would you like to know?” Jack asked, his tone far less antagonistic.
“Where is the bar they took you from?”
Jack leaned against the wall as he told Mal about the bar and answered the rest of Mal’s questions. He gave very little details about his family; Mal was wary of him, and Jack was also uncertain about the pureblood, but he revealed all the details about how they were gassed and taken.
“Do you think your friends on this island are still alive?” Mal asked when Jack finished.
“Yes, and I’m going to find them.”
“We rarely go above while the hunt is on, and only when it’s necessary.”
“I’m not asking you or anyone else to go with me. I wouldn’t expect anyone to risk their lives to help me, but I have to find them. They may need help, and we have to figure out a way off this island.”
“I’ve tried everything to get off this island and failed. The only escape from this place is death.”
“Have you tried burning the whole thing down?” Jack inquired. “And watching them run like rats from the flames?”
Mal gave him a sad smile. “I did, actually. There was once a farmhouse beyond the barn. I set it on fire to create a distraction that might allow me to reach the boats.”
“It didn’t work.”
“No. They put the flames out far faster than I anticipated. They pumped water straight from the ocean and never pulled their guards from the beach where the boats are docked. I was hoping the fire would destroy everything on this island; it failed. Everything I’ve tried has failed.”
Jack refused to let this knowledge daunt him. Mal was not him, Mike, and Doug. The three of them would figure out something. He wasnotgoing to die on this block of land, and he wouldnotlet his friends or Charlie die here either.
Chapter Twelve
“How many tunnels are down here?”Jack asked.
“Many.”
Jack wondered if Mal had any idea how many tunnels he’d dug over the years.
