Refuge(129)

“He’s hungry, but we haven’t harmed him. So far he hasn’t told us anything helpful.”

I tried not to think of Nate somewhere down below, hungry for human blood. “Do you think he will?”

Tristan shook his head wearily. “If we kept him down there long enough, maybe.”

“Why would he come here, knowing he would” – I swallowed hard – “knowing he would die?”

“My guess is he was compelled by a mature vampire. New vampires are as susceptible to compulsion as humans.”

It was the perfect revenge. Make Nate a vampire and send him here so I would have to kill him or watch him die.

“Sara, he’s asking to see you,” Tristan said, and his expression told me how he felt about it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but I wanted the decision to be yours.”

“Maybe he wants to say good-bye.” Even though I knew better, a tiny spark of hope flared.

“He’s not Nate anymore, not the Nate you knew.” Tristan ran a hand through his hair. “He will only try to hurt you as much as he can before he dies.”

I stared at the floor. I ached to see Nate, but I wasn’t ready to face the evil thing living in his body. “How long before you . . . ? How long does he have?”

“A day, two at the most. By then we’ll know if he is willing to talk. If he was compelled, he may not be able to reveal anything.”

Panic gripped me. A day and I would lose him forever? “Couldn’t we hold him for a while and see if he talks? Maybe if he gets hungry enough he’ll – ”

Tristan gripped my shoulders firmly. “Is that what you want, to keep him down in a cell, slowly starving to death? Because that is what will happen, and I can tell you it’s not a painless way for a vampire to die.”

Tears filled my eyes. “But – ”

“I wish more than anything that I could fix this and take your pain away, but keeping the vampire alive will not help you. It will only prolong your grief, and I will not do that.” His words were hard, but his eyes were gentle. “The Nate you loved would not want that for you, and he would expect me to do what I can to shield you from that kind of pain.”

I pressed my trembling lips together and turned away from him. “Tomorrow. I want to see him tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll arrange it.” He laid a hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

I stared out the window for a long moment after I heard him leave. Why did people always say they were sorry when you lost someone? It wasn’t like they were responsible for your pain.

“You all right?” Roland asked.

“No.” I was too tired and drained to try to pretend my world wasn’t falling apart. I faced him and Peter. “Will you come with me tomorrow to see Nate? I’ll understand if you don’t want to.”

“Of course, we will,” he said without hesitation, and Peter nodded.

I went to sit beside him on the bed again. “I’m so glad you guys are here. I don’t think I could get through this without you. The people here are nice, but they didn’t know Nate.”

Roland took my hand in his. “We’ll be here as long as you need us . . . and longer if they feed us steak every day.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “You and your stomach.”

“Speaking of food,” Peter cut in. “It must be almost time for dinner.”

The last thing I wanted was to be around everyone, but I couldn’t expect my friends to go to dinner without me. “Give me a few minutes, and then we’ll go down.”

I was in the bathroom, splashing water on my face, when I thought I heard a knock on the door. Drying my face, I walked out to find Roland and Peter sitting at the small table with a large covered tray between them.

“A girl named Jordan brought dinner for us,” Roland told me. “She said to tell you to let her know if you need anything, but she doesn’t walk dogs. You have dogs?”

I shook my head at Jordan’s thinly-veiled joke; leave it to her to try to make me laugh. However, I didn’t think Roland and Peter would find her werewolf humor funny.

“Just the hellhounds,” I said.

Peter made a noise. “I wouldn’t exactly call hellhounds dogs. By the way, when do we get to meet them?”

“I’ll take you down tomorrow.”

“Cool.” He lifted the cover off the tray. “Hmm, these look awesome.”

Jordan must have known something about werewolf appetites because the tray held five huge double hamburgers with the works and a large basket of fries. Her comments were soon forgotten as the boys dug into the food. I took one burger and nibbled at it, and by the time they had polished off the other burgers, I had barely eaten half of mine. I gave the rest of it to Roland who finished it in no time.