Hour of Darkness Page 21

  Ah, fuck.

  He tried to tell himself that none of this meant Marina was in danger, but his blood knew. Every fiber in his body seized with the jolting certainty that he was about to lose the woman he loved. That it might already be too late.

  He raced to the middle of the bridge and saw the limousine-size hole in the guard rail. The smashed barrier hung loose over the twenty-foot drop to the fast-rushing current of dark water below.

  “Marina! Oh, God, no!”

  He didn’t hesitate, not even to fill his lungs. He dove off the bridge, plunging into the cold black waves.

  Some thirty feet deep in the murky water, the limo rested head-down on the river bottom. Cain swam toward it, cutting through the clouds of blood that rose up from inside the vehicle.

  Not hers.

  The copper tang belonged to a human, not a Breedmate. But that gave him little relief as he reached the submerged car.

  Marina was inside, trapped in the backseat compartment. She wasn’t moving.

  Cain roared his anguish. Reaching in through the open window, he grabbed for her but she floated too far away. He grabbed onto the door and ripped it loose, tossing it to the river bottom.

  Marina hung suspended in the water of the backseat, her blond hair floating all around her. Her eyes were open, but they couldn’t see him. Her mouth was slack, lips parted.

  Just as he’d seen in his vision.

  No. Goddamn it, no.

  He caught her arm and pulled her toward the window opening. There was a sudden drag on her body—added weight from inside the vehicle.

  Moretskov held on to Marina’s ankle like a life line as Cain began to pull her out. Her uncle’s wild-eyed face stared at Cain through the turbid, dark water. He screamed for help, expelling precious air in his panic.

  No fucking way, Cain thought, his gaze burning red with fury.

  Holding on to Marina, he kicked his boot heel into the center of Moretskov’s desperate face.

  Blood gushed from the man’s broken nose and shattered teeth, fouling the water. The blow made him lose his hold on her. In slow-motion, he flew farther into the vehicle, limply unconscious.

  Let the river have the sadistic bastard. It wasn’t going to take Marina.

  Cain swam to the surface with her under his arm. He brought her to the nearest embankment, lifting her lifeless body onto dry ground.

  “Marina, can you hear me?”

  Laying her on her back, Cain turned her head to the side to help the water drain from her nose and mouth. He tried resuscitation, but she didn’t respond.

  Her face was bloodless, her lips a disturbing shade of blue.

  “Marina, please wake up. Come on, baby.”

  On the bridge some distance behind them, first responders scrambled to action. Lights and sirens pierced the night. Divers in wetsuits descended into the bracing water. He shouted to the crew for help, but the rushing river and the general chaos on the bridge drowned him out.

  “Marina, please. Don’t leave me.” He smoothed her wet hair off her cheeks and forehead. “I love you, Marina. I can’t let you go. Not ever.”

  Desperate, he brought his wrist up to his mouth and bit into his veins. Blood dripped from the twin punctures, splashing down onto her lips and chin.

  “Drink, sweetheart,” he urged her. “Take just a drop.”

  He knew he couldn’t bring her back to life. That’s not how the blood bond worked. But if there was anything left inside her, any spark of hope, his blood might give her the strength her body needed to repair itself. One taste of his blood might be able to pull her through.

  “Please,” he begged, no pride left at all.

  This woman was his heart, his future . . . his everything. He refused to lose her.

  But she didn’t take the blood that fell onto her parted lips.

  She really was gone.

  Cain sat back, shock stabbing him as the reality of his vision pressed down on him. Her lifeless body submerged in dark water. His blood staining her lips, useless to save her.

  All of those disjointed, brief flashes he had seen that night in her bed had come true. Just as he feared they would. He’d failed her.

  “No!” He threw his head back on an agonized roar.

  No. He wasn’t giving up. The vision had played out, but that didn’t mean it was the end. He refused to let it be the end.

  With pain racking him, he gathered Marina’s limp body against him and stood up, scooping her into his arms. As fast as his Breed genetics would allow, he carried her to the bridge where paramedics raced to him, speaking in frantic Russian.

  “Do something, please,” he urged them. “Please, help me save her.”

  They took her out of his arms and wrapped her in a blanket, then immediately went to work.

  Cain had never felt so helpless, or so humbled. He’d never felt this depth of fear. It leveled him.

  He sank to his knees on the asphalt and prayed—the only thing left for him to do.

  CHAPTER 26

  Marina came awake with a start.

  She sucked in a breath, expecting to feel the pain and shock of cold, heavy water entering her lungs, but instead all she felt was air. Weightless, wonderful air.

  “Thank God.” Cain’s deep voice was strangled and rusty next to her. “Marina. I’m right here, love.”

  Her eyelids felt glued together. She lifted them slowly, smiling as his handsome face came into focus. “Cain.”

  At least, she thought that’s what she said. The croak that came out of her mouth tasted like gravel and sounded like it too.

  “You don’t have to talk,” he said, gazing at her tenderly.

  Monitoring wires and IV lines ran from the back of her hand, which was caught between the warmth and strength of both his palms. The beeps and soft hisses that had been the soundtrack to her many hazy, disturbing dreams made sense now.

  “Hospital?”

  He nodded, his expression grave. “Saint Petersburg. You’ve been in a coma for the past two days, but you’re going to be all right. You’re alive, Marina.” His voice caught for a moment. “Ah, Christ . . . I lost you, but you came back to me.”

  Memories buffeted her like fast-forward frames of a movie. Cain and her entering the restaurant. Her uncle’s gunmen coming out from all directions. Being taken away while Cain was left to contend with all those Bratva killers and the pair of Breed males. All the awful things Anatoly Moretskov admitted to in the limousine. And then, the harrowing crash into the river.

  The cold, dark water she couldn’t escape.

  “I drowned.” As impossible as it seemed, she knew it was true. “Just like in your vision, Cain. I died.”

  “Yes.” Black brows creased over sober silver eyes. “For two minutes and thirty-four seconds, you were dead. Paramedics brought you back. I tried to, but . . .”

  He shook his head and glanced down at their clasped hands. When he swallowed, she heard his throat work. That quiet hitch in his breath told her so much.

  This formidable Breed male—this Hunter who could take on an army and still emerge on top—had almost been broken by the thought of losing her.

  “You came for me,” she whispered, overwhelmed by emotion. Relief. Gratitude. And love. So much love. “You did save me, Cain.”

  “No.” He shook his head again, more emphatically now. “No, Marina. I failed you. There was nothing I could do.”

  She reached up with her free hand, stroking his jet-black hair. “You saved me that first night in Miami. And you’ve saved me every night since, Cain. I don’t even remember what it was like without you in my life. I don’t want to know what that would be like.”

  “Marina.” Her name was a low, rumbling growl as he moved closer and carefully pressed his lips to hers. His gaze held hers, searching and tender. Filled with such depth of emotion, it staggered her. Shattered her. “I love you. You are my heart, Marina. Mine won’t beat without you. I knew that even before I pulled you out of the river. But afterwar
d, when nothing I did could bring you back, part of me died too.”

  She caressed his face, wishing they were home instead of in Russia. When she thought of home now, she pictured the sprawling corridors and tall, timber-beamed ceilings of a Darkhaven in the Everglades. If she closed her eyes she could hear Lana’s laughter and Bram’s good-natured humor. She heard Logan and Razor bantering like best friends, like brothers. She even pictured Knox, with his searing thunderhead gaze and broody aloofness.

  But most of all, she pictured Cain.

  She pictured herself naked and nestled against him as they made love.

  And she pictured the kind of bond that Bram and Lana shared. A true bond, unbreakable, eternal. Sealed in blood.

  She didn’t know if Cain was ready for that.

  She couldn’t help noticing the contusions and lacerations that had yet to heal on his arms. His dermaglyphs were darker than she’d ever seen them, nearly the same color of his numerous lingering bruises.

  She touched one of the beautiful skin markings that tracked under the short sleeve of his black T-shirt.

  “I will need to feed soon,” he murmured.

  His frank statement was an unwelcome reminder of the uncertain way things had been left between them before they departed for Russia. The last time Cain needed to feed, he denied her to seek out another Host. His rejection stung, even now. Even after all of the lovely things he’d just said to her, it hurt to recall how easily he had been able to turn to someone else for what his body needed.

  Her uncle’s deception, and the phone call that demanded she return to Saint Petersburg, had put her hurt and everything else on hold. Now, it was time to face it.

  The man she loved was Breed. She accepted that. More than accepted, she embraced everything he was.

  So, as much as it pained her, she couldn’t condemn him for any part of his nature.

  She nodded. “You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll understand if you need to leave for a while to find a blood Host.”

  Even if the idea of him taking a stranger’s vein made her feel like dying all over again, she would try to understand.

  Cain studied her, a solemnity in his steady gaze. “I’m not going anywhere. There hasn’t been anyone since I met you. Not to Host me. Not for anything.”

  “But the other night I offered you my blood. Instead, you left with Razor and Logan . . .”

  “Yes, I did.” His expression hardened. “I’m sorry for the stupid things I said and did. I was a jackass for refusing you. And I was an idiot for even thinking I could walk away, even to protect you. But I didn’t drink from anyone that night. I didn’t look at anyone else. I came back for you.”

  “You did?”

  He nodded, running his fingers over her brow, then down along her cheek. “I don’t want a blood Host, Marina. Not ever again. I’d rather have a blood bond. If you’re agreeable to that.”

  Elation flooded her. She managed a wobbly dip of her chin as her joy overflowed, bubbling out of her on a teary sigh. “Yes, I’m agreeable to that, Cain.”

  He chuckled as she sat up in the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn’t care about the wires and electronic leads that complained with her sudden movement and the spike in her heart rate.

  Outside the windows of her hospital room, a couple of nurses walked over to peek inside. Marina barely noticed. None of her lingering physical ailments bothered her, either.

  All of the weakness and discomfort she’d felt upon waking evaporated within the comfort of Cain’s embrace.

  “Take me out of here,” she murmured against the warm curve of his neck and shoulder. “I don’t want to wait another second to start the rest of our lives together.”

  “Neither do I, love.” He shivered as she pressed her lips against the strong pulse beating so near her mouth. She nipped him playfully, overcome by an urge she couldn’t resist. A pleasured groan rumbled deep in his chest. “Baby, you’re killing me. As much as I want you right now, we are not going to initiate our blood bond on a hospital bed.”

  She laughed. “Why not?”

  “Because I want it to be special.” He drew her away from him, but only to kiss her. When their lips separated, she saw the sharp points of his fangs gleaming in his mouth. He exhaled a quiet curse, his touch reverent as he caressed her face. “When I take you as my mate, Marina, I want it to be perfect for you. I’m going to make certain it is, because you deserve nothing less.”

  She smiled, overcome with love for him . . . and a stirring hunger for all the things his heated amber gaze promised.

  “I love you,” she whispered, moving deeper into his arms. “Please, don’t ever let me go.”

  He held her close. “Baby, not a chance.”

  Marina could have stayed in the comfort of his embrace forever, but outside her room a group of big men approached the closed door. Dark suits, grave faces. And at the front of them was someone even more dangerous than Anatoly Moretskov.

  “Cain.” She backed out of his arms, fear leaching into her veins. “Oh, my God. It’s Boris Karamenko.”

  The Bratva boss opened the door without knocking. None of the hospital staff stopped him or even delayed him with a question. Karamenko had that effect on everyone who knew his name, and his savage reputation. Like the swaggering bull he was, he entered the room along with the four grim thugs accompanying him.

  “It’s all right,” Cain said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze as he rose to his feet.

  But it wasn’t all right. It couldn’t be all right if one of the most treacherous heads of the Russian mafia was coming after them now.

  “She is awake.” Karamenko’s growly Russian accent clipped the words into a toneless observation. He moved next to her bed and stared down at her, scowling. “You’ve had everyone very worried these past two days.”

  She gaped at him, unable to hide her shock. “W-what?”

  He swung that dark glower on Cain. “You haven’t told her yet?”

  “There, ah, hasn’t been time to cover everything.” Cain actually looked a little sheepish. But when he glanced at her, his silver eyes were filled with solemnity. “We had more important things to talk about first.”

  Marina sat up straighter, confusion and disbelief swirling through her as Cain took a seat on the edge of the narrow bed. “What’s going on?”

  “After the paramedics revived you and brought you to the hospital, I had a visit from a couple of JUSTIS men . . . and Mr. Karamenko.” He took her hand, stroking her fingers as he held her stunned gaze. “Marina, JUSTIS knew what your uncle was up to. They knew he had obtained covert operative intelligence, and they knew he was looking to sell it. They also knew you were carrying it for him when you arrived in the States.”

  Karamenko nodded. “What we didn’t know was that he intended to use it as payment for having me assassinated. We didn’t realize that until we spoke with your man here and he explained what Anatoly confessed to you.”

  “Wait a minute,” Marina said, uncertain if she was hearing correctly or if the trauma her body had endured was playing tricks on her mind. She stared up at Karamenko. “You’re saying we as if you’re—”

  “Working with JUSTIS.” The Bratva boss nodded his large head. A smile spread over his jowly face. “I am a career JUSTIS agent, Marina. I’ve been providing intelligence and assisting in arrests and sting operations from the very beginning.”

  “But you’re one of the most feared members of the Bratva,” she pointed out. “Forgive me for saying it, but you’re a cold-blooded killer. Your reputation for violence and treachery—”

  “Has been carefully crafted and supported with the cooperation of my JUSTIS colleagues,” he finished for her. “My rise through the syndicate was crucial in helping law enforcement take out the real killers and criminals. Unfortunately, that number included your uncle. We were tightening the noose around Anatoly when rumors reached us that he had somehow gotten his hands on highly sensitive intelligence. A couple of month
s ago, we began applying some subtle pressure, just to see if we could flush out the data. He got anxious.”

  Marina nodded. “That’s around the time that he came to me and told me he wanted out of the Bratva. He said he was afraid and had someone willing to give him asylum for a price. He knew I would do anything to help him.”

  “JUSTIS knew that too,” Karamenko said. “Your devotion to him was well understood in our organization. That’s why, when he sent you to Miami as his courier, we were certain you knew exactly what you were carrying for him.”

  “But I didn’t know. He lied to me. He said the disk contained bank information and passwords worth billions. Your bank accounts,” she admitted, ashamed that she had been willing to rationalize her part at any time in her uncle’s scheme. “I thought you were a criminal. I thought it would be a good thing if you were removed from power—especially if it would also buy freedom for my uncle and me.”

  Karamenko shrugged. “You are a loyal niece. He’s not the first to use a family bond to further his own criminal goals.”

  “I never would have agreed to help him if I had known what that flash drive actually contained.”

  “We know that,” he said, glancing at Cain. “We know that now, at any rate. But we had to be sure. We had a man deeply embedded in your uncle’s security detail for the past decade. He was tasked with locating the data and taking any measures to ensure it didn’t reach its destination.”

  “Yury,” she said, her guilt still raw over his death. “He was only trying to do the right thing. Both he and the sniper who tried to shoot me at the hotel. Now, they’re both dead because of me.”

  Cain brought her hand up to his lips and tenderly kissed it. “You didn’t know Anatoly had put you in the crosshairs. You had no idea what was actually on that disk. There’s no reason for you to feel guilty about any of this.”

  Karamenko nodded. “He’s right. And because you lived, that stolen intelligence has been contained. There are over a hundred covert operatives who owe their lives to you. And to Cain.”