His Dark Embrace

Sam shrugged. So, they couldn’t find the sister he couldn’t remember. Big deal.

The doctor made a notation on his clipboard. “Do you remember anything that happened before you got here?”

Sam stared at him, then shook his head. “No.” His fingers curled around the blanket that covered him.

“It’s all right.” The doctor made another notation. “Just try to relax. Let the memories come back on their own. Don’t try to force them.”

“What if my memory doesn’t come back?”

“Let’s not worry about that now,” the doctor said briskly. “From the looks of you, you’ve had it pretty rough. A little downtime will be good for you.”

“How did I get here?”

“I’m not sure of the details,” the doctor replied. “It’s all hush-hush, but from what I gather, the Iraqis traded you and several other men for one of their own. You were burning up with fever and suffering from severe head trauma by the time you got here.”

“Sam! Hey, Sam! Is that you?”

Sam looked past the doctor to see a tall, lanky, redhead grinning from ear to ear.

“Do I know you?” Sam asked.

“Are you kidding me? Hell, we trained together at Hood. Roger Boyle. Don’t you remember?” He held up his hand, two fingers crossed. “We were tight, man.”

Sam shook his head. “Sorry.”

Boyle hobbled closer to the bed. Only then did Sam notice that Boyle’s left pant leg was empty from the knee down.

“What’s his story, Doc?” Boyle asked, leaning on his crutch.

“I’d say retrograde amnesia, most likely caused by a severe blow to the head. But, all things considered, I’d say his odds of a full recovery are good.”

“When can I get out of here?” Sam asked.

“Soon. You’ve been discharged, due to your injuries. The paperwork should be here any day now,” the doctor said, “but I need to run a few more tests before you can go home. In the meantime, you take it easy, and I’ll see you in the morning.” With a nod, the doctor moved on to his next patient.

“That’s rough,” Boyle said, “not being able to remember who you are.”

“You said we were tight. Do you know anything about me?”

“Just that you lived with your grandfather in Vista Verde, California, and you have a married sister, Skylynn, who lives in Chicago. You drive a restored ’66 VW Bug and you’re hoping to be a mechanic when your tour’s up. You took a few college courses, worked at the local market before you enlisted. Does any of this ring a bell?”

Sam shook his head.

“Well, like the doc said, it might take some time.”

“Yeah,” Sam muttered. “Time.”

“Hang in there, buddy. I need to get off my feet.” Boyle grinned ruefully. “Foot.”

Sam nodded as he watched Boyle carefully make his way back to his own bunk at the other end of the room. All things considered, he guessed he’d rather have lost his memory than his leg.

Sam folded his arms beneath his head and stared up at the ceiling. Sam. His name was Sam and he had a married sister, Skylynn. Was she older or younger? Did she have kids? Dammit, why couldn’t he remember?

Chapter 28

Thorne lay on his side, one elbow bent, his cheek resting on his hand as his gaze moved over Skylynn’s face. He had made love to her off and on all through the night. He ran his fingertips along the side of her neck. He needed to stop being so greedy, to remember that she didn’t have his strength or stamina. But making love to her was like an addiction he couldn’t shake. The more he held her, the more he kissed her, the more he wanted her.

He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but about a week ago, he’d fallen into the habit of spending the night at her house. It was the closest he’d come to having a normal life in centuries. He found himself liking the arrangement far more than was probably good for either of them.

She smiled in her sleep. Was she dreaming of him? It didn’t matter. Waking or sleeping, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. It amazed him that, even knowing what he was, she loved him enough to give herself to him completely. He deserved neither her love nor her trust, not now, when the monster within him was fighting so hard to get out, when it was a struggle to keep his hellish thirst under control. When all he really wanted was to gather her into his embrace and drink and drink until there was nothing left.

With a growl, he sprang off the bed, his hands clenched at his sides as he turned his back to her. What madness had made him agree to stay with her when just being near him put her life in danger? And yet, how could he leave when Desmarais was sniffing around like a wolf on the scent of fresh blood? An apt description for all their kind, Thorne mused. Predators all, whether they killed or not. And those who spared the lives of their prey were rare indeed because the urge to kill, to take it all and leave nothing behind, was always there.

Why had Desmarais approached Skylynn? Was he still hoping to find the missing ingredient for the formula? Now that he was a vampire, that hardly seemed likely. Unless Desmarais knew it would allow him to walk in the daylight. Would Paddy have shared that information with Desmarais? And if not, then what was Desmarais after?

The answer came with such clarity, Kaiden was surprised it hadn’t occurred to him sooner. Desmarais was seeking revenge for his wife’s death. Cassandra had warned Desmarais of dire consequences if he destroyed Thorne. And if the monk couldn’t destroy him, what better way to avenge himself than by killing someone Thorne held dear?

The logic was inescapable.

Closing his eyes, Thorne forced himself to take several long, slow breaths. He would have to remain calm and clear-headed if he hoped to best Girard Desmarais. The man was nothing if not sly and resourceful. Add to that Desmarais’ fifty years of experience as a slayer and Desmarais was not a threat to be taken lightly.

Expelling a deep breath, Thorne slid back under the covers beside Skylynn and put his arm around her. She made a soft sleepy sound as she snuggled against him. He drew her closer, basking in the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin against his.

He ran his fingers lightly through her hair. Making love to Skylynn was the most incredible high he had ever known. It made him feel young again, truly alive again, and for that, he would forever be grateful.

“Kaiden?”

“I’m here.”

“You’re not going home, are you? I ...”