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Je
She couldn’t stop thinking about Brock. Couldn’t stop dreading that she’d made a terrible mistake in letting him go to Newport with Cori
She wanted desperately to call him and urge him to come back.
But as much as she wanted to claim him for herself, she couldn’t be that unfair to him.
He had been granted a miracle tonight, and she would never dream of trying to take that away from him.
How often had she prayed for a second chance with Mitch and Libby after she’d lost them? How often had she wished their deaths had just been a cosmic mistake that could somehow be righted? How many times had she hoped beyond all hope for some impossible twist of fate that would bring back the love she’d lost?
She wondered now if she would still be able to make those prayers and wishes. She knew she couldn’t. To do so would be to negate all she felt for Brock, something that seemed even more impossible to her than a miraculous reversal of death.
But at the same time, she couldn’t ask Brock to make that kind of choice.
Even if it shattered her heart to let him go.
A wave of sadness rushed over her with the thought. She grabbed for the side of the Rover, her legs all but swept out from beneath her.
Alex was at her side in an instant. “Jen, are you okay?”
She nodded weakly, feeling suddenly more than empty inside. Her head spun, vision begi
“Je
Dazed, she glanced down to where Alex was now unfastening her bloodstained coat. As the thick wool parted, she saw the terrible truth of what had her friend’s face turning white as a sheet.
Je
“Kade, hurry!” Alex shouted, panic climbing into her voice. “Renata, Niko—somebody, please. Je
As the others rushed out of the house in response, Je
She let go of the vehicle and the heavy darkness pulled her under.
CHAPTER
Thirty-three
Andreas and Claire Reichen’s house in Newport was a hive of anxious activity as the rescued Breedmates arrived that evening and began to settle into the large estate on Narragansett Bay. Brock and Rio had been the first to get there. Hunter and Chase had arrived moments ago with the rest of the former captives and were in the process of bringing them inside.
“Unbelievable,” Reichen said, standing with Brock in the second-floor hallway of the seaside mansion. The German vampire and his New England–born Breedmate had been living in the house for only a few months, the newly mated couple having relocated to the States after surviving their own ordeal at the hands of Dragos and his dangerous allies. “Claire’s been haunted all this time by what she glimpsed during her dreamwalk through Dragos’s laboratory, but to actually see these women now, alive and out of danger after all this time … Christ, it’s overwhelming.”
Brock nodded, still in disbelief himself. “It was good of you and Claire to take them in.”
“We wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Both males turned as Claire came out of a bedroom carrying an armload of folded towels. Petite and beautiful, the dark-haired female had a glow about her as she strode into the hallway and met the approving gaze of her mate.
“I’ve been praying this day would come for a long time,” she said, her deep brown eyes shifting from Reichen to Brock. “I almost didn’t dare hope that we might actually succeed.”
“The work you and the rest of the Order’s women have done is beyond admirable,” he replied, certain that he would never forget the image of Je
God, Je
She’d been the reason he’d driven in silence from Gloucester to Rhode Island, tormented by the fact that Cori
Back to Je
But he couldn’t just walk away from Cori
How could he simply ignore all of that and go back to the happiness he’d found with Je
As if conjured by the weight of his dark thoughts alone, he felt Cori
Reichen and Claire said nothing as they both glanced past him, then turned to walk away together, leaving him alone to face the ghost of his past failures.
She was bathed and dressed in clean clothing. But God, she was still so small and fragile. The long-sleeved fleece top and yoga pants hung loosely off her tiny frame. Her cheeks were pale and gaunt. Dark circles rose beneath her once-sparkling, almond-shaped eyes.
With her raven hair pulled back in a long ponytail, he could see that she had aged since he’d last seen her at eighteen. Although the passage of years would put her in her nineties now, Cori
“Jesus, Cori
Small nicks and scars blemished the face that had been so flawless in his memory. Her eyes were still exotic, still bold enough that they didn’t flinch—not even under his stricken scrutiny—but there was an edge to her gaze now. Gone was the playful imp, the sweet i
He reached out to touch her, but she backed away with a small shake of her head. He let his hand drop, fist hanging at his side. “Ah, Christ, Cori
Her slim brows knitted slightly. “No …”
Her softly voiced denial blasted him deeply. He deserved it, he knew, and he could hardly say a word in his own defense. He’d failed her. Perhaps more than if she had died all those years ago. Death would have been better than what she’d likely endured while imprisoned by a sick bastard like Dragos.
“I am sorry,” he murmured, determined to get the words out even though she was mutely shaking her head, her frown deepening. “I know my apology doesn’t mean anything now. It doesn’t change a damned thing for you, Cori
“No,” she said, her voice stronger than before. “No, Brock. Is that what you thought? That I blamed you for what happened to me?”