growled and hissed, his eyes glowing red-hot. He turned toward her, stumbled and raked his fingers along the wall, gouging huge chunks of wood from the polished surface. Her heart jumped.
Nicolas. Now would be a great time for you to show up. You know all that crap about women fighting vampires? I'm on your side.
This was her friend. She didn't want him dead. She wanted him fixed. When Terry had ripped out the snake's head, blood had splashed all over the car. Gerald must have had an open wound somewhere and parasites had entered. She hadn't thought to have the healer check him, she'd been so disoriented from that long-forgotten foul stench. The odor permeated Gerald. The infection had spread rapidly or...
Her stomach lurched. She moistened her lips. "Gerald? Where's Terry?"
Gerald lumbered toward her, his steps jerky and plodding. His head tilted to one side, a cunning, animalistic expression crossed his face. "Worthless traitor," he hissed.
Spittle sprayed into the hall and she couldn't help but follow the droplets with her gaze, fearing the tiny parasites would be strewn all over the floors and the entire inn would be infected. She had visions of zombies breaking through walls and eating people.
Slavica caught her arm and tugged, slowly backing down the stairs. Lara didn't want to be on the staircase, but she didn't have a lot of fighting room.
Gerald wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air more. Growls emerged from his throat, a rumbling challenge. The dragon mark burned hotter. She gripped the knife.
"Gerald!" She said his name sharply, trying to find the man inside the beast.
He blinked rapidly, tilting his head to one side, his body tensing. She gripped the knife harder and set herself on the balls of her feet. She couldn't let him get downstairs where many of Slavica's guests had gathered for dinner or drinks.
Gerald suddenly moved, lightning fast, a blur of preternatural speed that scared the hell out of her. She leapt to the side, over the banister and onto the landing, barely escaping his slashing claws. Slavica nearly fell backward down the stairs, stumbling and then recovering, back-pedaling as fast as she could to get out of reach.
Screams broke out below them as guests looked up to see a wild-haired man covered in blood lunging at the two women. Two of the men rushed up the stairs to try to help.
"Stay back!" Lara called out, terrified someone else would be infected. "Gerald, who am I? Try to remember who I am and who you are."
They'd been colleagues and friends for several years, had gone caving together in some of the most dangerous caves in the world, relying on one another and forming a family of sorts.
"Gerald." Maybe if she said his name enough times, it would jog his memory.
He has no memory. Get out of there. The parasites have consumed his brain. I mean it, Lara, get away from him.
Nicolas strode up the stairs, waving a hand to calm the group below, blurring the scene so no one could quite see what happened. He had scanned Gerald and Terry the moment he set foot in the inn. Terry was dead and Gerald was the walking dead.
"Don't kill him," Lara pleaded. "There has to be a way to save him."
Nicolas caught her around the waist and shoved her behind him. "He's already dead, Lara, and he's programmed to find and kill you."
Gerald sniffed the air again, looking confused with Nicolas blocking access to Lara.
"He's my friend. You can't know that."
"He's not your friend. Go now. Wait for me outside."
"But..." She couldn't just walk away and give up. "This is my fault. I should have checked on them."
Hands dropped to her shoulders. Startled, she swung around, the knife in her fist. Gregori shook his hand and took the weapon. "Let us handle this, little sister. The fault does not lie with you. I should have checked him."
Lara backed down the stairs. The Carpathian males had a difficult time detecting the parasites, but she should have scented the taint of Xavier. Sheshould have sensed it, but she'd been too busy feeling sorry for herself. She wiped at the tears streaming down her face. She hadn't achieved any of her goals since her arrival. She'd only managed to get her friends killed. She hadn't recovered the aunts. Their bodies were still locked away in the labyrinth of horror where Xavier had ruled.
She couldn't leave, couldn't look away. She owed it to Gerald to be with him, to stay while they