The sun will be here soon.
So soon.
I can practically feel it already sizzling my flesh.
“There,” Beck barks out, running between two buildings.
We reach them in no time. Mercy is unconscious in Griffin’s arms and his eyes are wild.
“We were supposed to be a family,” Griffin chokes out. “Now she’s dead.”
“She’s not dead,” Beck snaps. “Give her to me.”
Griffin shakes his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. “No.”
Castilla steps forward. “Griff, honey, look at me. Mercy is dying. If we don’t let Beck heal her, she’ll die. Please, I need you to do this for our daughter.”
I suppress a growl deep in my throat. I want to tear his throat out with my teeth, but he’s holding precious cargo and we’re on borrowed time. Castilla knows this motherfucker better than I do. I have to trust her to lead.
“Give her to Beck, Griff.”
“So your bloodsucker boyfriend can kill me?” he roars. “Fuck no!”
“Please,” Castilla begs. “I’m what you really want and you know it. Let him take her and then you can have me.”
“No,” I snarl. “Absolutely not. You’re both coming home with us.”
Griffin’s eyes narrow at me. “You’d choose me over him?”
Castilla tenses. “I’m choosing Mercy. Do we have a deal?”
Minutes pass while he debates his answers. The sky above us is lightening to a light purplish-blue. We’re out of time.
“Griffin, just give her to him.” Castilla approaches him and stands too close to him, not thinking about her own safety but only Mercy’s. Griffin seizes Castilla’s arm with his free hand, locking her in his tight grip. If I take Castilla to teleport, I’ll take him too. Fuck. “Now.”
Beck rushes forward, snagging Mercy from his arms. I start forward, but Castilla stops me with her words as Griffin drags her against his chest, his hand gripping her delicate jaw in a way that says he could snap her neck in an instant. The violence in his eyes says he will.
“Go, Laurent. Now before it’s too late.” She glances at the sky just as my skin begins to sizzle as the sun’s harmful rays threaten to end my existence. “Come back for me.”
I don’t want to leave.
I can’t.
He’ll hurt her. I know this with every fiber of my being.
Beck grabs my arm and before I can protest, we’re in the dark safety of his room. I lose myself to rage, cursing and punching every wall in sight. Beck sets Mercy down and tries speaking to her.
“Get over here and help me,” he barks out. “I need you to bite her.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I roar. “We’re supposed to be helping her!”
“It’s just so we can remove the toxic blood. Not all of it. Just enough that mine can help. I can’t do both. Come now, Laurent. I need you to save this little girl.”
I let out a frustrated groan because everything in me screams to teleport back to Castilla even if it means death by burning from the sun. But I know Castilla trusted me to handle Mercy. I can’t let her down.
I bring Mercy’s dainty wrist to my mouth. It pains me to have to bite her, but I know it’s necessary. As soon as I suck the tainted blood into my mouth, I wince. It’s horrible, but it needs removing. Despite the roiling in my gut, I gulp and gulp and gulp. It isn’t until I’m shoved away that I realize I might have once again gone too far.
Beck licks the wound closed and then bites his own wrist. He holds his gushing wrist to her open mouth, filling it with his powerful blood. His fingers massage at her throat, forcing the liquid down. She chokes and sputters but then grips his arm, sucking in his healing blood. He lets this go on until he starts to sway.
“You should stop,” I growl at him.
“Not yet.” He trembles. “She needs more.”
I grip Mercy’s free hand and squeeze it. “Almost done, darling.”
“Call for a maid,” Beck mutters. “I’ll need to feed immediately.”
Flashing out of the room, I round up his favorite maid and then hurry back. He’s on his side, gray and unmoving when I reach them. Mercy is greedily gulping from his wrist, crimson running down her chin.
Enough.
I grab his arm and pull it from her mouth. She starts to pitch a fit, kicking and screaming and crying. Lucky for me, she’s a small child and can be overpowered.
“Feed him,” I bark at the maid. “Now.”
She rushes over to him, lifts her skirt, and straddles his head, offering her femoral to him. It takes some maneuvering on her part, but she manages to nick her flesh with his teeth. I can tell the moment when he comes to because his hands grip her thighs. Mercy continues to cry and howl. A terrifying growl I’ve never heard rumbles from Beck—protective and fierce.