The fight continued below the bridge, both of them clutching the beams with one hand while they punched and struck each other from their suspension above the wicked drop. Rio’s shoulder was burning from the bullet he took earlier. The pain was bringing on a blackout, but he shook it off, focusing all his rage—all his pain, and the fear he’d felt at the thought of losing Dylan—on the task of ending the Dragos line here and now.
And he could feel Dylan giving him strength as well.
She was in his mind and in his blood, in his very heart and soul, lending him her own tenacious determination. He absorbed all of it, using what his bond to Dylan gave him, as he went for another hard strike at Dragos. They continued pounding each other, roaring with the fury of battle.
Until a gunshot ripped out over their heads.
They both looked up and there was Dylan, one of the pistols gripped in her hands. She brought the muzzle down and aimed it at Dragos.
“This is for my mother, you son of a bitch.”
She fired, but Dragos was Breed, and he was faster than she anticipated. He swung away at the last second, getting a better grip farther down the rail. She followed, keeping him trained in her sights. When she went to fire again, one of his hands shot up through the slats and locked on to her ankle.
She fell backward, hitting the bridge hard. Rio heard the breath whoosh out of her lungs, then watched in horror as she was suddenly dragged toward the railing by Dragos’s strong grasp on her leg.
In an instant, Rio flung himself up over the rail and onto the road above. He grabbed Dylan’s arm in one hand, the dropped pistol in his other.
“Let her go,” he commanded Dragos and brought the gun level with the vampire’s head. It was hard to kill one of the Breed, but a bullet to the brain was generally sufficient.
“You think this is over, warrior?” Dragos taunted, fangs flashing. “This is only the beginning.”
With that he let go of Dylan and dropped, fast as a stone, into the roiling water below. The spillway ate him up, and the river beneath it was pitch dark, impossible to see.
Dragos was gone.
Rio turned to Dylan and gathered her into his arms. He held her close, so relieved that he was able to feel her warmth against him. He kissed her and smoothed away the blood and grit from her face.
“It’s over,” he whispered, kissing her again. He stared down at the black water below the bridge, but saw no sign of Dragos in the speeding current. “You’re safe with me, Dylan. It’s all over now.”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around him. “Take me home, Rio.”
CHAPTER
Thirty-Six
N early a week had passed since Rio brought Dylan back with him to the Order’s compound in Boston…back to the home he hoped to make for them with her forever at his side.
He was still healing from the gunshot wound in his shoulder. Tess had tried to speed the mending of his skin after the bullet had been extracted, but as she’d feared, the power of her healing touch was hampered almost entirely by the baby growing in her womb. She wasn’t able to help Rio, nor would she have been able to help Dylan’s mother.
The funeral for Sharon Alexander had taken place two days ago in Queens. Rio had gone back to New York with Dylan the night before the service—as had the rest of the Order and their Breedmates, in a show of support for the newly mated pair. It pained Rio that he couldn’t be at Dylan’s side as her mother was laid to rest that sunny summer afternoon, but he was glad for the company that Tess, Gabrielle, Savannah, and Elise were able to provide for her in his place.
Dylan had been brought into the fold like she’d always belonged there. The other Breedmates adored her, and as for the warriors, even Lucan had been impressed with Dylan’s willingness to roll up her sleeves and offer her help to the Order. She’d spent the better part of the day in the tech lab with Gideon, poring through IID records and missing persons reports out of the Darkhavens in an effort to identify Breedmates who’d come to her from the afterlife.
Now, as evening approached and the Order was soon to head out on patrols, all of the compound’s residents were gathered around the large dining room table in Rio’s quarters. As the women shared a meal, the warriors covered Order business and planned the night’s missions. Nikolai was soon to be heading out to meet with the Gen One he knew, in the hopes of getting his help to track down the source of the recent slayings.
As for Gerard Starkn, the Order hadn’t been surprised to find his New York residence vacant when they’d raided it a few nights ago. The bastard had cleared out entirely, leaving no clues about the double life he’d been leading as Gordon Fasso, AKA the son of Dragos, and zero trace of where he might have fled after his clash with Rio at the Croton dam. A search of the area near the dam had yielded nothing, but Rio and the others weren’t about to give up.