while before she glanced at him. And when she did, there was too much emotion in her normally composed face.
“Let me go,” she said. And yet she didn’t fight his loose hold.
“Talk to me. You look …” Too much like how he felt. “Just tell me what I can do to help you.”
“God, Murhder,” she said in a voice that cracked. “I’m just so tired. I’m … so fucking exhausted from being in pain. It’s like I can’t shake the hits. They keep coming at me, and anytime I feel like I’ve bounced back, I get nailed again—and this one? With John’s injury? It’s a mortal wound for the both of us if I lose him.”
As she rubbed her eyes, Murhder cursed and pulled her in against him. There was a hesitation, and then her arms went around him and she held on tight. And that was when the fantasizing stopped for him and reality fell on his head.
He was going to lose Sarah.
She was going to lose John.
They had always had things in common. Too bad it was only the stuff that hurt.
When they eventually stepped apart, Murhder said, “When it comes to Sarah … I’ll do the right thing.”
“You always do,” she murmured with defeat.
After a moment, she stepped away and he slipped through the heavy steel entry, making sure things closed up tight behind him. Walking forward, he came up to the shelves of weapons, nonperishable food, water and outerwear.
This was the place to be if the zombie apocalypse ever went down.
Striding through the tunnel, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his borrowed slacks and entertained a brief folly of him and Sarah living at the Rathboone House—and of course, in his version of reality, they were like all the other romantic couples who cuddled in old beds and enjoyed the fires in the fireplaces and held hands for absolutely no reason. But all of that was ridiculous. He couldn’t expect her to sacrifice her scientific work for a nocturnal existence with a vampire rattling around in that B&B.
You don’t know that woman.
But he did. He’d seen her with Nate. With John …
She was a female of worth.
Except, even as the conviction came to him, Xhex was right about one thing. He knew nothing about how Sarah had come to be at BioMed and how she had “discovered” the terrible secret experiments. Had she been involved with them somehow? He didn’t know how that was possible, but what if she were lying to everyone? He’d been inside her mind, true … but could he trust himself to have seen clearly?
He was, after all, insane.
When he got to the entry into the training center, he put in the code Xhex had given him and walked through the supply closet. No one was in the office, which was a bonus, and he didn’t run into anybody as he strode down to the clinical area—another bonus, as he was technically banned from the premises. But fuck that … and fuck Tohr.
Murhder was halfway to the treatment area when Sarah stepped out of Nate’s room, a stainless steel tray in her hands, all kinds of test tubes filled with blood standing upright on it in a holder.
“Is he okay?” Murhder asked in alarm.
“You’re back.” She smiled and walked over. “He’s great. He’s a great man—male. He’s a really good person.”
“What are you doing with all that?” He tacked on a smile so it didn’t sound as suspicious as he suddenly was. “I mean, just checking him, right?”
“Actually, I’m working on a theory about John’s case. I’m wondering if—” She frowned. “Where are your clothes?”
He glanced down at himself. “I, ah, I had to change.”
“I get that. I wish I had some of my own clothes, too.”
As he looked at her face, as he stared deeply into her guileless golden eyes … as he probed for signs that she was misleading them all … his heart told him what he did not trust his mind to know: She was a healer, not a destroyer.
His fingertips lifted to the open collar of the button-down shirt he’d borrowed and found the sacred shard of seeing glass.
No, he thought as he rubbed the talisman between his thumb and forefinger. Xhex was wrong. She just had to be. Sarah’s was the visage he had seen in the glass long ago, the woman he was supposed to be with.
And as soon as he grounded himself on that fact, he thought of one and only one