Once Bitten, Twice Burned

Donaldson shook his head. “Can’t!” He shouted this time, his frustration breaking him. “I can’t move a step, not ’til Ryder gets back!”

Richard knew his own eyes were widening. He tried to school his expression even as excitement filled him. “Why would you follow his orders?”

The other guards were avid. Watching too much. Hearing too much. Richard waved them away. “Go join the others! I want a search of every room at Genesis!”

The guards hurried to comply. Richard waited until they were gone, then he asked again, “Why obey him? Did he threaten you? Your family?”

“He’s . . . in my head.” The horror of those words was reflected in Donaldson’s eyes. Eyes that appeared to be filling with tears.

Richard remembered the way Donaldson had stood when he first burst into the room. “He made you put the gun to your own chest, didn’t he?” Richard didn’t want to let the excitement get the better of him. He’d hoped this would be the case. For so long, he’d searched for a vampire who’d mastered this particular talent. His search had yielded no success, until now.

Donaldson nodded. “I could . . . feel him.” His hand lifted and his fingers rubbed against his temple. “It wasn’t me up here. Just him.”

Richard smiled. “It was the bite.” Smart vampire. The attacks on Donaldson and Thomas had been part of an escape strategy.

Jim Thomas . . . you attacked him because you knew he’d have access to the key cards. He was your ticket to freedom.

Richard realized he’d underestimated Ryder. He wouldn’t be making that mistake again.

Richard bent and picked up the discarded gun. “Do you still feel Ryder in your mind?”

Donaldson didn’t answer. But then, wasn’t that answer enough?

Richard glanced over his shoulder. They were alone. Donaldson deserved to hear this. “There are stories . . . some vampires are old enough, powerful enough, that they can actually control the minds of humans.”

He’d just thought that was a legend. He’d hoped it was truth, but had discovered no evidence to back up that particular power, until this moment.

“He’s controlling me,” Donaldson whispered. A tear streaked down his cheek. “Stop him!”

Oh, now that was the tricky part. “It’s the blood,” Richard said. With vampires, wasn’t it always? “He didn’t take control until he had your blood.” Otherwise, Ryder would have escaped sooner. He would have just taken control of the guards at any point and used them to do his bidding.

But though Ryder had killed a few guards when he’d first been contained at Genesis, the vampire hadn’t been allowed to get within biting distance of any Genesis personnel, not since those early, desperate weeks. And since he hadn’t been able to bite them . . . You couldn’t control them.

Until a fatal mistake had been made. Until Thomas and Donaldson had gotten within the vampire’s deadly reach.

During his time at Genesis, Richard knew that plenty of other vampires had tasted the guards. They’d had their blood—new guards often made foolish mistakes. They got too close to their prey. One nip of the teeth was enough to guarantee that they’d be better prepared in the future.

Those vampires had never been able to take over the minds of their prey.

Those vampires hadn’t been like Ryder.

What makes Ryder different? He had to find out. Ryder could very well be the vampire that he’d sought for so long.

The key.

The cure.

Richard’s fingers tightened on the gun. “You’re his puppet now. Whatever Ryder says, whatever he so much as thinks, you’ll be compelled to do.” Even turning against his own teammates. Hell, the guy would kill his own family if Ryder told him to do so. The proof was plain to see.

Donaldson had put a gun to his own chest.

Very, very interesting.

“Help me!” Donaldson begged. “If you find him, if you kill him, I’ll be free, right?”

Yes, he would be free then, but Richard shook his head. “I have no intention of killing Ryder.” What purpose would that serve?

The cure. He’d looked for a vampire like Ryder, searched since he was little more than a child.

Containment of Ryder would be priority one. They’d need more of his blood. Humans would have to be injected. More test subjects lined up and—

“Help me!” Ah, now Donaldson was shouting again.

It was hard to think when someone shouted like that.

Sighing, Richard lifted the gun. He fired. The bullet blasted into Donaldson’s chest, a direct hit to the heart. The man fell to the floor.