Acceptance.
Nicole had just willfully destroyed part of her life, and now she was watching the remains burn to ash. Her strength humbled him, and when she finally turned her back to the crumbling skeleton that had belonged to her family, she did it with a finality that astonished him.
They didn’t look back again.
---------------------------
Nicole wasn’t sure how far they’d run with Riker carrying the kid over his shoulder after they parked the Jeep on property discreetly owned by MoonBound.
But every time she faltered, tripping over branches or stumbling from exhaustion, Riker would catch her. It hadn’t taken long for VAST to swarm the forest, and the sounds of pursuit kept her moving. Now, with the shouting voices practically upon them, her panic made her even clumsier.
“It’s okay,” Riker said, steadying her with a hand around her biceps. “Clan warriors are attacking our pursuers.”
She sucked in a panting breath. “You could have told me earlier.”
“Didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“In the future, keep in mind that I don’t like surprises,” she muttered.
They continued on, thankfully at a slower pace, and after a few minutes, the boy came around, his groggy gaze unfocused and confused.
“Hey, kid,” Riker said. “We’re almost home.” He lowered the boy to the ground.
Standing, the male was at least six feet tall, but he probably weighed no more than Nicole. His shaggy black hair fell in a mop to his jaw, and he had to push it out of his face to see. He wobbled as he looked around, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open.
“Where are we?” The boy’s strained voice was barely audible. “What is this?”
“We’re in the forest outside of Seattle,” Riker said.
“We’re safe. The humans can’t touch you here.”
The boy backed away from them in a panicked scramble, and when he bumped into a tree trunk, he yelped and leaped away as if he’d been bitten. He sucked air in huge gulps, his gaze darting everywhere at once, as if he was looking for somewhere to run.
“You’re okay,” she said, in a low, steady voice. He reminded Nicole of a stray kitten she’d once coaxed out from underneath a bush. “You’re safe now. Where are you from?”
The question seemed to stump him. “From?”
“Yes.” Reaching out, she took his hand. It was cold and bony, and her heart broke. “Where did you live before you were captured by humans? Where’s home?”
The boy frowned. “The lab is my home.”
“Are you saying you were born there?” Riker asked, incredulous.
A crow cawed nearby, and the kid gave a start.
“I-I was born in a human house. But the lab is all I remember.”
The lab was all he knew? Jesus. “Where are your parents?”
“I don’t know who my sire is.” The boy’s voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear. “My mother is dead.”
Nicole wanted to hug him. Losing a parent was awful enough, but then to be raised in a lab . . . she couldn’t even begin to imagine that kind of nightmare. “Did she die during childbirth? How did Daedalus get you?”#p#分页标题#e#
“She was a servant. A wild vampire broke onto the grounds and killed her. Humans cut me out of her belly before I died.” He gave her such an honest, innocent look that her eyes stung. “They saved me.”
Good God, he was actually grateful for how Daedalus had treated him. She cut a glance at Riker . . . and gooseflesh erupted from her scalp to her toes.
Riker had lost all the color in his face and was staring at the boy, his jaw clenched, his throat working on swallow after swallow. Something was very, very wrong.
“Riker?”
He didn’t acknowledge that she’d spoken. He kept his gaze fixed on the boy. “How old are you, kid?”
The boy blinked, as if not understanding the question.
“How old?” Riker barked.
The boy made a noise of distress and shrank away from them both, lifting one skinny arm over his face.
“Nice,” she snapped at Riker. “Well done.” She eased close to the kid again, speaking in soothing tones. “We’re not going to hurt you. I promise. You can tell us. When were you born?”
The boy eyed Riker warily. “The lab people do tests on me every June. They say it’s my birthday. Last time, there were a lot of tests because they said it was twenty years.”
“Oh, God.” Riker’s voice grew constricted.
“Terese . . . she died twenty years ago last June.”
It took several moments for Nicole to process what Riker was saying, and when she did, she clamped her hand over her mouth in stunned silence. This gaunt vampire kid, who looked to be no more than sixteen or seventeen, was Terese’s son.