doctor. A few of them were so angry that…”
“What?” Emma said, her voice thick. “Tell me all of it.”
“They wanted to shove him out into the sun.”
Her chest hitched with a sob.
“But they didn’t!” Cynthia blurted hastily. “They didn’t, Emma. Todd wouldn’t let them. Neither would Mr. Reordon.”
“Where is he?”
“Cliff?”
Nodding, Emma opened a drawer and fumbled for a tissue to dab her eyes.
Again Cynthia bit her lip. “They chained him up in a holding room and are waiting for Seth to arrive.”
To heal him or to execute him?
That question coupled with the image of Cliff chained down, unconscious and bleeding in some cold cell, tore great gasping sobs from Emma’s chest. Folding over, she buried her face in her hands.
“Oh honey.” Cynthia hurried around the desk, wrapped her arms around Emma, and hugged her close. “I’m so sorry. I know how much you care for him.”
But she didn’t. Cynthia thought Emma loved Cliff from afar, like a shy teenager with a crush on the high school quarterback. She didn’t know the two of them had been meeting in secret. That they spent hours together every night. That Emma had kissed him. Made love with him. Learned every aspect of his personality and constantly craved his company. Cynthia didn’t know that Emma had laughed with him. Teased him. Enjoyed long, relaxing bubble baths with him. Lost herself in passionate encounters in the shower. Held him while they talked for hours and kept the voices at bay.
She couldn’t lose him. It was too soon. She wasn’t ready.
She would never be ready.
But she could do nothing to stop Seth from taking him from her. Or Reordon. Or Bastien who—despite his love for Cliff or perhaps because of it—would take Cliff’s life in a heartbeat if he thought it would end his friend’s suffering.
Emma couldn’t even tell Cliff goodbye because she wasn’t allowed on sublevel 5.
More sobs rocked her as Cynthia tightened her hold and stroked her hair.
Chapter Seventeen
A breeze cooled Cliff’s warm skin as four vampires shriveled up at his feet.
Bending down, he used the shirttail of one to wipe the blood from his blades before he slid them into their respective sheaths.
“Any wounds I should know about?” Bastien asked.
Cliff shook his head. “You?”
“No.”
He didn’t have to look to know his friend’s gaze followed his every move as Cliff collected the fallen vampires’ weapons.
Almost a week had passed since he’d fucked up Whetsman so much that the man had suffered traumatic brain damage even Seth couldn’t reverse. Cliff had no memory of it. He remembered being with Emma the night before, then… nothing… until he woke up in the infirmary with Bastien, Melanie, and Linda hovering over him while the German immortal Alleck loitered nearby.
Apparently Whetsman had been mind controlled by Gershom into stealing vials of the sedative that could be used to knock out Immortal Guardians. Linda had thought his behavior in the lab odd, noticed some vials were missing, and followed Whetsman out to his SUV to ask him about them. When she confronted him, Whetsman shot her with a 9mm equipped with a suppressor Gershom must have given him and left her to bleed out in his back seat while everyone inside remained unaware.
According to what everyone had been able to piece together, Cliff had been restlessly prowling sublevel 5 when he noticed specks of blood that smelled of Linda on Whetsman and went medieval on his ass. No one had known what had instigated the attack, however, until Seth scrutinized Cliff’s thoughts.
Cliff couldn’t bring himself to overly regret hurting Whetsman. The bastard had almost killed Linda. But the guards…
The constant acidic burn in his belly worsened.
He’d injured so many men in his blind determination to get to Whetsman. Guards on sublevel 5 who had previously been friendly and shot the breeze with him now tensed at his appearance and watched him warily. At Cliff’s request, Reordon had shown him footage of it, from the time Cliff had left his apartment until the second he’d collapsed in the lobby, where Todd and John had had to restrain some of the guards topside to keep them from shoving his unconscious form out into the sunlight.
Cliff thought the guards had been more than justified in calling for his death. But surprisingly Reordon had disagreed and had torn into the men when he’d arrived on the scene.
It had come as quite a shock. Reordon was very protective of those who worked for him. Cliff would’ve thought he’d be calling for his head after