Lydia frowned. “That’s why you’re here on the mountain. You’re looking… for the lab here. Do you work for the F.B.G., too?”
“In a manner of speaking… yes.”
She started shaking her head. “You can’t destroy the lab. They’re trying to save people’s lives.”
“At the expense of vampires. And wolves just like you.”
“Not C.P. Phalen’s lab. My husband is dying from lung cancer, and the immunotherapy they developed could save his life if he tried it. But in any event, they will start treating people with the drug—people they want to cure, not hurt.”
As he frowned, Lydia talked even faster. “And the doctors who work there? They’re good people. They’re researchers who are ethical. I don’t know what was done to your sister or where or by who. But what’s being done here? It’s going to save people’s lives, and yes, it’s developed for humans, but a vampire might need it.”
“Vampires don’t get cancer.”
“Oh. Well. Still. But whatever, there are no vampires down there. No wolven. The subjects who will try it will be volunteers and they will be properly monitored.”
In the silence that followed, she looked around again, as if anything in the cave could help her make her argument.
“After your husband dies,” the male murmured, “you’re going to come here and be on the mountain, aren’t you.”
“You don’t want to talk about your family? Well, I don’t want to talk about my future.”
“All right. Then let’s go back to you in the present.” The male’s voice got lower. “You’re so beautiful, Lydia—”
“Well, isn’t this cozy.”
Lydia wheeled around. Daniel was standing in the entry to the den, his eyes ripping around and then locking on the male, who was clearly naked under the blankets on the pallet.
“Jesus… Christ,” Daniel barked. “You’re fucking him?”
Lydia took a step forward. “What—wait, no. No, I haven’t—”
“Don’t touch me.” He pushed her hands off of him. “And Blade, I should have known. You fucking asshole.”
“Wait.” She looked between the two. “You know him?”
“Yeah, I know him—and now I know what you’ve been doing while you’ve been lying to me about going to work. Kind of convenient that I didn’t leave the house, huh. Easier to feed me the line of bullshit—”
“Daniel, this is not what it looks—”
“Oh, my God, a line from the movies. Of course, I only know that because I’ve been sitting on my ass getting ready to die for the last six months—”
“I am not having sex with anybody!” She started waving her hands, as if she could erase the conclusions he was jumping to. “Daniel, I—”
“I’m not even talking to you,” he said to the male. “You sonofabitch. And you, Lydia, are you really trying to say you didn’t lie? About the fact that the WSP closed down months ago? About the shit about your car? If you’d wanted to give the damn thing to Candy, why the fuck would I care? Why lie about that? Or were you so busy lying about him”—he jabbed a finger at the male on the pallet—“that you just kept snowing me about everything? Fuck, Lydia. Fuck.”
“I didn’t lie—”
“You did!”
“—for a nefarious reason—”
“There are no good reasons!”
“You are dying!” she hollered back at him. “And I’m dismantling my life because you’re dying! Do you think I want to tell you that I’m pulling out of everything because you’re going to be gone and I’m going to disappear into the lair of the wolven for a couple of years to recover? You’re already dealing with everything, do you really want to hear about me giving up my job, my house, and my friends so I can help you to your grave? That I’m doing it all so I can squeeze out the last remaining days and months we have together—”
Daniel’s flat voice interrupted her. “I don’t believe you. I think you didn’t tell the truth… because you were doing him. Don’t you dare hide an affair behind my terminal diagnosis.”
“That’s not what’s going on here,” she said with despair.
“You’re naked under that red robe. He’s naked under those blankets. And he just told you how beautiful you are.” Daniel jabbed a hand into the pocket of his coat and took out some kind of bundle wrapped in a napkin. “Here. I brought a bagel for you. He can have the one I was going to eat—which is really apt, isn’t it.”
As Daniel tossed the food and turned away, she rushed forward, taking his arm. “You have this all wrong.” She glanced back at the male. “Tell him. Tell him.”
“He’s not going to say anything,” Daniel announced. “Not one fucking syllable is going to come out of his mouth.”
Lydia looked back and forth between the two of them. “Do you know each other?”
“Oh, yes, we do. And if he’s smart, he’ll keep quiet about that. I may be half dead, but I’m in a really fucking bad mood and if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay out of this.” At that, Daniel looked at her bitterly. “You know what the really pathetic thing is? I don’t even blame you. I can’t get it up, so why wouldn’t you look for sex somewhere else. And I could almost have lived with it if you’d just copped to the truth.”
He ripped his arm out of her grip. “Don’t you dare follow me. You’re going to give me an hour to pack up my shit at the house, and then you can come back down there.”
“Where are you going,” she choked out. “Daniel, I’ll leave, I’ll be the one who goes, but you have to—”
“My future, however long or short, is no longer any of your business.” He put his hands up before she realized she’d reached out again. “Don’t fucking touch me. And don’t you come off this mountain until I’m gone—that shouldn’t be too hard for you, though. I’m sure you two have loads of ways to pass the time. She’s all yours, Blade. Have fun—and Lydia, I’d be very careful if I were you. You may be confident about how special you are to him, but he’s a helluvan operator. He’s going to fuck you in ways you don’t like and won’t see coming.”
“Daniel—”
“Stop saying my fucking name,” he muttered as he walked off for the passageway. “I don’t want to hear it come out of your mouth ever again. You two deserve each other.”
THIRTY-SIX
WHAT DO YOU mean, Daniel is gone?”
As C.P. sat at the side counter in her kitchen, the one where the cooks took their coffee breaks, she was utterly exhausted and clearly not tracking. After having spent the day in Houston meeting with her team, she’d just flown back and had no idea what time it was, why she had decided to end up here—or where Chef was, for that matter. The only thing she knew for sure was that she cared about none of the answers to any of that—and maybe not even to where Daniel Joseph might have gone to.