When Passion Lies: A Shadow Keepers Novel (33 page)

Let him fucking try.

The cell next to hers was jammed full of humans. Lihter had been shoving them in there all day. Poor, lost humans that he intended to infect and send out into the world, using her curse—using
her
—for his own political gain. He was a bastard and a coward, and somehow she was going to bring him down.

Unfortunately, she was still a little hazy on the how part, but she was certain that killing him was going to come into play somehow.

That part, she was looking forward to.

Once again she surveyed her surroundings. The new cell was one in a long line; the wall to her right was metal while the one on her left was translucent. The wall behind her was concrete and in front of her the wall appeared to be made out of Plexiglas. It had an air lock and filtration system so a person could simply walk in through a system of filters and fans without having to touch—and presumably contaminate—a door.

Her perspective was a little odd. The gurney had fallen on its side, but because she was strapped so tightly, she was at a right angle to the floor. The bag from under the gurney was in front of her, and she saw a hint of black and silver peeking out of the bag.

Her phone
.

Like a dream her words to Tiberius came back to her
—you can just trace my cellphone
.

She’d been half teasing, but the truth was that he could. For that matter, it might be the only way he could, since they still didn’t know if the machinations that Reinholt had put her through when he changed her had made the blood bond impossible to form.

Except that she was on a gurney, and it was at least an arm’s length away.

And she had no arm. Or she did, but it was useless to her, seeing as it was bound to her side and attached to a gurney.

But still she had the acid
.

She’d tried before, without success, but she’d been interrupted. More, she’d been at a different angle. Now her weight was on her wrist, making the strap cut even more into her skin.

If she just wriggled. Just wriggled a little bit more.

And then she smelled it—burning cloth. Melting metal.

Not a lot of acid, but it was there, on the strap, and if she tugged harder maybe she could—

She did it!

Her arm was free, and she stretched out, reaching, her fingers not quite there. She drew in a breath, trying to gather all her strength, then jerked her body in an effort to make the gurney move.

It did. Less than one lousy inch.

But maybe it was enough.

Outside, she heard the cold, efficient footfalls of Lihter.

Come on, come on …

Her fingers brushed. Missed.

Another try … and
yes!
She got it.

She scooted it toward her and pressed the power button even as she heard Lihter screaming instructions to one of his flunkies.

The phone came on, and she jammed the speed dial button. At the same time, the idiot called Rico kicked
the phone out of her hand, grabbed it, then powered it off.

“Tsk-tsk,” Lihter said. “But it’s nice to know you have spunk. That’s an admirable quality.”

“Screw you,” she said, which was really lame, but she was thinking more about whether the call had time to connect than how best to insult her insane captor.

“Well, I’d love to chat all night, but look at the time.” He tapped the face of his wristwatch. “Ten o’clock. Moonrise. Your wolf comes out a bit later, I understand? Not to worry. We’ll help it along.” He cocked his head, then smiled at her. “Are you rested my dear? I’ll grant you that the sideways gurney is less than comfortable, but considering this is our big day, we didn’t want to take any chances.”

He moved toward the console, then spoke into a microphone, calling his team. When they were all in place, Lihter smiled again. “Well. Let’s get started, shall we?”

She opened her mouth to curse him, but what came out instead was a scream. He’d said he was going to speed up the process, and he’d cranked up the voltage on her little table. She’d gone from nothing to searing, jolting, horrific pain in the blink of an eye.

Once again, the wolf rose, and once again she fought, but she knew she was going to lose. Goddamn it all, she
couldn’t
lose. But her daemon was no match for the force of the wolf. It gathered up inside her. Gathered and growled and burst forth.

And as the wolf overcame her, she saw something that finally, for the first time, gave her hope.

She saw Tiberius storming into the room.

Tiberius saw her across the room—strapped to a gurney behind a wall of glass, the change coming on her.

He saw the wolf emerging—limbs elongating, fur erupting. But she wasn’t a werewolf to him. She was Caris. She was
his
. And the bastard who had done this to her was a dead man.

Around him, the team had already fanned out, going one-on-one with Lihter’s men in front of glass cells filled with innocent humans. Luke was leading that team—a wild thing, a fighting machine.

Other agents swarmed into the lab, heading for the console, going hand to hand in hazmat suits as Lihter’s weren soldiers forced them back.

Tiberius ignored it all.

He marched straight down the middle as if he were walking across the goddamned Red Sea.

Straight across the room toward
him
.

Faro Lihter.

The weren saw him coming—and he had the gall to smile.

One of his idiot flunkies decided to move in on intercept mode, grabbing a chair as he did and slamming it against the floor. The chair shattered, and the flunky rushed at Tiberius, a stake in hand, the wolf emerging as he burst forward.

Perfect
.

With all the speed that more than two millennia can bring, Tiberius grabbed the guy’s arm, wrenched the stake out of his hand and purposefully thrust it into his own belt, and casually ripped the weren’s head off.

Then he returned Lihter’s grin and kept on walking.

To Lihter’s credit, the weren was beginning to look a little nervous.

So nervous, in fact, that he turned around and raced for the air lock. Also perfect.

Tiberius followed, and as he did, Luke fought his way across the lab, heading toward the console so he could shut down the airway between Caris and the uninfected humans.

Tiberius paid no attention to them—he knew Luke would get it done. He was only interested in Lihter. Lihter, who thought he was so clever to hide in there with the virus.

Not good enough. Not nearly good enough
.

Tiberius smiled. So far, Lihter was acting completely predictably. Hopefully, he’d keep it that way.

Tiberius followed the weren in, felt the air whooshing around him, heard Lihter’s laughter, calling him a fool.

And then he saw awareness in Caris’s eyes. He saw
her
under the wolf. Saw Caris and her daemon fighting to bring the wolf back despite being deep in the throes of it. Despite the full moon.

Could she do it?

He saw the determination in her eyes, and right then, his money was on the woman, not the wolf.

More than that, though, he saw fear in her eyes.
For him
.

He didn’t have time to reassure her. He was too focused on his quarry. More than that, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d survive this. But he had to try. For Caris. For the world.

In front of him, Lihter wasn’t doing the one thing that might give him a fighting chance. He wasn’t bothering to bring out his own wolf. To do that would mean he
couldn’t speak. And Tiberius could tell that Lihter—predictably—had a few things he wanted to say.

“Go ahead, then,” Tiberius said.

“What?”

“Something you want to tell me?” He was circling Lihter, his legs starting to feel a bit weak. The virus was strong. She was strong.

Yeah. Maybe his brilliant plan wasn’t so brilliant after all …

“You’re dead, Tiberius. You think you’re clever, but the second you walked through that air lock, you died. She’s toxic. And now you’re infected.”

“You may be right,” Tiberius said. “But I think I can live long enough to watch her kill you.”

He rushed forward then, getting to Caris’s side before Lihter even had time to turn.

She’d managed to burn through a strap, and he began to work on the remaining buckles and straps on the gurney. Her wolven scent enveloped him, making his daemon rise. Anger for what Reinholt had done to her. For what Lihter was doing right now.

It was time to pay the price.

“What … doing?” She was fighting, forcing the words out as he worked on the buckles near her feet. “Daemon … strong … I … can … fight … Don’t be … Stu … pid.”

“I’m sincerely hoping I’m not,” he said, then whipped around as she let loose a horrible keening sound—a howl of fury mixed with pure terror.

Lihter was there, grabbing for the stake Tiberius had put at his belt—and then plunging it straight into Tiberius’s heart.

He fell, the stake bringing him down, Caris’s scream echoing in his ear.

And the last thing he saw before the world went black was the wolf that was Caris leaping off the table and knocking Lihter to the ground.

“No!”

Caris’s scream came out as a howl, because the wolf was running the show. But the horror of seeing Tiberius fall like that ripped right to the core of her and she grabbed on to it—grabbed control, grabbed the daemon, grabbed all of the strength that came with being a hybrid.

She hauled herself up through the darkness of the wolf. Higher and higher, until she was controlling it, rather than it controlling her.

It felt strange—her body elongated, her muscles tighter—but it felt powerful, too. And right then she was all about the power.

On the ground, Lihter shifted. Tiberius had grabbed the weren when he’d fallen, and they’d both tumbled to the ground. Tiberius lay as still as death, but Lihter was moving, clawing his way back to his feet.

Outside the cell, two of his men raced toward the air lock.

“No!” Lihter called. “Stay out!”

They ignored him and rushed in, and she took the opportunity to explore the creature she now was. The strength and speed and skill she had—but had never been able to use.

She used it now, and she was at their sides in the blink of an eye. With one slice of her claws, she ripped into the soft flesh of their bellies. Then she grabbed them, one in each hand, and swung them like a child’s toy. Then she let them fly.

They slammed against the concrete wall, both out cold.

They were weren, so they weren’t going to get infected. Too bad. But she’d deal with them later in some equally satisfying way.

She turned her attention to Lihter, letting go a little bit more with the daemon. She hadn’t managed to completely pull back the wolf. It was still there, still showing on her body, still filling up her blood.

But she’d backed it off considerably, and there was serious power in the balance she’d found. She wondered if she called on her vampire side during a full moon, could she prevent the change entirely?

She looked hard at Lihter. “I guess I owe you thanks,” she said. Her voice was rough, but she had one. The vampire part of her was holding on, balancing the wolf. Making her
more
. She was truly badass now for the first time—for the only time, because she could never let go like this on purpose. Not with the plague.

But with Lihter around? Well, that wasn’t really a problem. And she was going to get the most out of it. She was going to destroy him.

“I’ve got some mad skills here,” she continued. “Wouldn’t have had the chance to explore them if you hadn’t tried to fuck me over.”

“You’ll never get out of here,” Lihter said. “All of them, they know what you are now. Do you think they’ll let you survive?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I know that I’m not going to let
you
survive.”

She moved—and was at his side.

She lowered her voice, got in close to his face. “I’ll give you a choice. Turn yourself in to the PEC. Or count to three and I’ll rip your heart out.”

The expression on his face was nothing short of revulsion.

“No? Well then, I’ll decide for you.” She reached back, ready to thrust her arm forward.