Daysider

ignited a war so you could make every human a slave to your needs.

We were...are...cattle to you, and you expect us to regard you as anything but tyrants and murderers?”

“You may rest assured that I do not regard you as livestock, or an inferior.”

All the fire in Alexia’s eyes winked out as if his simple statement had smothered every spark of hatred in her heart. “It doesn’t matter,” she said wearily. “I can’t do it. I won’t.”

She sank down again and lay on her side, turning her back to him. A furious desperation began to eat away at Damon’s control. He had sworn he wouldn’t let her die.

Nothing had changed. If she wouldn’t cooperate, he would force her to accept his help.

Even if he had to tie her down, puncture his own flesh and drip his blood into her mouth.

“Is this it?” he demanded. “Is this all Carter’s death means to you, that you lie down and surrender?”

“Better than drinking blood and becoming like you.”

“Better to stay alive and fight for what you believe in.”

She rolled over to face him. “Why do you give a damn, Damon? We’re still on opposite sides. Why have you fought so hard to keep me alive?”

“Because I...” He stopped, knowing full well what he was about to admit aloud was the culmination of every forbidden emotion he had fought against since he had met her.

Once he had spoken the words, there would be no going back. Not until his mission was complete and they were parted forever.

“I care about you,” he said, forcing the words through gritted teeth.

As much as Carter’s death and the revelation about the patch had shocked Alexia, he had expected disgust, rejection, perhaps even derision. But she only gazed at him as if he had told her that the sun set in the west.

“I wouldn’t believe you,” she said quietly, “if you hadn’t—” She broke off, biting hard enough on her lower lip to draw blood.

“Hadn’t what?” Damon asked, trying to ignore his sudden and disconcerting interest in the crimson bead at the corner of her mouth.

“Behaved so...irrationally.”

He winced. “It was not my intention to...to allow my reason to be compromised.”

“Is that what you call caring about another person?” she asked with a sad, weary smile.

That she could smile at all was what humans might call a miracle. “I am surprised you think I am capable of it at all,” he said.

She pulled herself into a sitting position. “I said I did, didn’t I?” She took in a deep breath. “You said you wouldn’t let me die. You practically ordered me to stay alive, remember? Not even Carter did that.”

“You never thought I had a motive other than your personal welfare?” Damon asked.

“Of course I did. You said that was part of your mission, didn’t you? I would have been crazy to think otherwise. But now...” She rubbed her hand across her face. “Part of me believed you really did kill Michael. I don’t think that anymore.”

Damon’s heart began to pound under his ribs like heavy surf battering the shore. “And now that you do not,” he said, “how do you regard me?”

Her frank gaze wavered and then fixed on his again as if she knew she couldn’t escape the truth, no matter how unpalatable it was to her.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know how to define what I feel. But I have found some reason to admire you, to...recognize your good qualities.”

“My ‘human’ qualities?”

Her lips twitched. “If you like.”

“Yet you still insist what happened between us was meaningless?”

“I told you—” She sighed. “Even if I’d known what I was doing, it was only sex.”

Damon’s throat felt as if he had swallowed his own knife. “You have had sex before,” he said.

She pulled the edge of the blanket up over her legs without any apparent realization that she was doing it. “I’m no virgin, if that’s what you mean.”

“Who?” he asked.

“Are you kidding?” She cast him a glance that was an uneasy combination of amusement and profound discomfort. “Making love is a normal part of human existence.”

Her answer didn’t release the knot in Damon’s stomach. “Making love,” he said. “A strange phrase to suggest a sexual relationship. Is it such a casual thing among humans?”

She shrugged. “It can be.”

“But what you call love is not.”

Her expression changed, shadowed with thoughts she clearly found disturbing. “Why don’t you tell me what it’s like for Daysiders? Do you force yourself on humans the way your masters do?”

Memories of the single human he had taken in his youth silenced his protest. He hadn’t forced himself on her. She had come to him knowing her duty, unafraid.

But not wanting. Not free. Just as he had never been truly free with, even though he had told himself their relationship was as much by his choice as hers.

“I can speak only for myself,” he said. “I would never take a woman unwilling, no matter what her kind.” He caught Alexia’s gaze, turning the tables again. “Did you have intercourse with Carter?”

“What?” She blinked at him, her expression transforming from surprise to outrage.

“Carter was my partner. I cared about him, but I didn’t sleep with him. Clear enough?”

Not clear at all, Damon thought. There were still too many things about human and dhampir emotions he didn’t fully understand. But knowing Carter had never been with her that way...

Damon closed his eyes. The very thought of what might have happened if Carter hadn’t interrupted him and Alexia sent a fierce shock of desire through his body. He imagined Alexia’s breasts bared to him, his mouth on her nipple, his skin naked against hers. His cock stiffened, throbbing with a deep ache that could end only one way.

But if he ever gave in to that lust, he would drive Alexia away for all time. If he didn’t lose her to her own stubbornness.

“What is clear,” he said, “is that you promised me you would stay alive.”

She turned her back on him again. “I think we’ve covered that topic.”

“Evidently not thoroughly enough. You gave me your word. Are you breaking it?”

She sat up and met his gaze. “Do you remember my exact words, Damon?” she asked intently.

It was a strange question, but when Damon tried to recall the conversation he couldn’t remember when or how she’d made her promise.

“Are you denying you said it?” he pressed.

Alexia heaved herself to her feet and reached down for her pack. “I have to go bury Michael. I’m not going to let scavengers tear him apart.”

Damon blocked her path. “Carter is beyond caring what becomes of his body,” he said.

“He deserves to be laid to rest.”

“That is foolishness.”

“I’ll give him a proper burial.” She pushed him aside with her healed shoulder and strode away. Damon went after her, seized her arm and swung her around to face him.

He bared his teeth.

“Don’t make me tie you up,” he said. “I will if you try to leave.”

“Then that’s what you’ll have to do.”

Chapter 8

Without hesitation Damon herded her back to the blanket, compelled her to kneel and pulled his pack close with his free hand. He unfastened one of the outer pockets and withdrew a carefully bundled length of cord. In