Once Bitten, Twice Burned(82)

I started it. His blood had transformed Malcolm. If he’d just let his brother die, then so many other lives would have been spared.

“I went to him. Got him away from the followers he kept so close.” Malcolm had always been eager to make more vampires, though they hadn’t actually been called vampires, not back then. No one had called them vampires until centuries later.

Back then, they’d just been blood drinkers. Monsters.

Later, his kind had become vykolakas or strigoi. And, finally, vampire.

“You killed him,” she said, her voice without emotion.

He glanced back at her. “Actually, he tried to kill me first.” A perfect setup. “I was still trying to save him. Trying to stop his madness, when he drove a sword into my heart.”

The blade had been silver. Silver didn’t kill me, brother. But the blow had weakened him. “During his tortures, my brother had been experimenting.”

Just like Wyatt. His jaw locked. Ryder hated experiments. And the monsters who enjoyed them. “He killed humans, but he also made vampires . . . made them, then killed them, just so he could learn our weaknesses.”

You don’t understand. You’ve changed. Malcolm’s charge to him. We can have everything. We can drink this world dry.

Ryder hadn’t been thirsty any longer. He’d controlled his cravings. Been able to think past the bloodlust.

“He used the sword to maximize my blood loss, to weaken me.” If Ryder had been a normal “transformed” vampire, the attack would have worked. But Malcolm’s “experiments” had been off. Because Ryder wasn’t like the others. “While I was on the ground, bleeding out, he went for my head.” His brother hadn’t wanted to take any chances. He’d attacked quickly, going for a brutal kill. Ryder rubbed his neck, remembering that long-ago day. Time couldn’t erase some memories. Not the darkest ones.

Sabine rose and came toward him with slow steps. Her hand lifted and touched the skin of his throat. Her fingers felt like they were wrapped in silk. “But you stopped him.”

He offered her a small smile. “No, love, Malcolm drove that sword’s blade into my throat, and I choked on my own blood.”

Her lips parted in shock.

“But the first blow of the sword didn’t completely sever my head. My brother should have used a sharper blade.” His mistake. “So I fought back. Not with my body, because it was all but useless. I used my mind.” He’d made a shocking discovery then. “I could control the others. Every vampire he’d made. Every vampire I’d made.” His control hadn’t been limited to humans. “In those desperate moments, I reached out, and I could feel them all.”

Every single one.

He’d felt a rush of power so intense then that his body had shuddered.

“I sent out one order to the vampires. Just one . . . kill Malcolm.”

Her fingers trembled against his throat.

“And my brother stared into my eyes. He took the sword, and he plunged it into his own chest even as he screamed at me.”

“Ryder . . .”

“The others came. He wasn’t dead. They attacked him. Hitting. Punching. Clawing. Tearing into him. He kept screaming, but he wasn’t fighting them. He could scream, but he couldn’t fight.”

She didn’t stop touching him. Why? He was telling her everything. She knew his darkness. But she was leaning closer to him. “How did you get away?” Sabine asked.

“I made them give me blood.” He’d taken and taken. “They dragged my brother’s body away. Buried him.” What had been left of him.

“Then what did you do?”

“I tried to stop the monsters I’d made. Tried to pull them back, but by that point, there were too many of us.” He expelled a rough breath. “I hunted the worst of the vampires. Killed them. Staked those who slaughtered innocents and enjoyed the bloodbath.” Confess. “Though I was little better than they were. But I tried to be. I swear, I tried to be.”

Her fingertips rested over his pounding pulse. “How long did you hunt?”

“I’m still hunting.” A dark truth. “I’m the one who created the vampires, so it’s my job to take out the monsters who live to torture and destroy.” His job—his penance.

“I know the rage you carry,” he said, and Ryder was careful not to touch her. “You feel betrayed. You trusted your family.” This she had to understand. “But family can and will turn on you. Especially if . . .”

“If you’re a monster?”

“If they are the monsters. And humans can be just as evil and twisted as any beast stalking in the night.”