The guy was fast. But then, he was a vampire. She figured superhuman speed must be part of his package. Not a bad package to have, once you looked past the whole blood-drinking and fangs bit. He pulled her hand, yanking her toward a metal door on the right, and then they were rushing into a narrow stairwell. She stumbled inside with him, and the door clanged shut behind them.

“How much longer are we—” she began but Ryder pushed her against the nearest wall and put his hand over her mouth, effectively cutting off her words. She stared up at him, too conscious of the loud drumming of her heart, the sound seeming to fill her ears.

“More guards,” he whispered the words against her left ear. Barely a breath of sound. She could have sworn she felt the light rasp of his tongue on the shell of her ear, and Sabine stiffened. Not with anger or disgust but with a sudden stab of desire that she hadn’t expected.

It was strange. Her body felt primed, too tense, aching, and it had felt that way ever since Ryder had taken her hand and pulled her off that exam table.

She hadn’t thought anyone would be coming to her rescue. Sabine certainly hadn’t expected a vampire with fierce eyes and bloodstained clothing to rush to her side.

But he had.

Maybe there was someone she could trust in this nightmare world, after all.

Ryder killed you. Wyatt’s words rang through her mind.

Um, and maybe not.

But she did remember Ryder trying to give her blood during that terrible encounter. He’d forced his blood into her mouth. Urged her to drink.

The vampire just confused her.

Footsteps thundered by outside.

“Since you want me to let those fools live”—another whisper against her, and, yes, this time she was sure that was a light lick of his tongue—“then we’ll play the game nice and softly.”

It wasn’t a game. It was life or death. Her life. His life.

She turned her head, pulling away a bit from that mouth and the tongue that was making her body tighten. Ryder—he was so big. Tall, dark, and dangerous—a description that definitely fit him.

He wasn’t like any man she’d ever met before. Mostly because she’d never met a guy with fangs and claws.

He’s a vampire. Not just some average guy. Admit that to yourself.

He was a vampire, and his mouth had just moved down to the curve of her throat.

Sabine couldn’t help it. Every single muscle in her body locked when she felt his lips on her throat. The muscles locked in fear and desire. She shook her head and he freed her mouth. “Don’t,” her own soft order.

His lips pressed against her throat. “I’m not taking a bite.”

Good. He’d better not be.

His head rose. His eyes met hers. “Unless you want me to . . .”

Heat pooled in her belly.

His nostrils widened a little bit, and he smiled. The fluorescent light above them revealed the brightness of his green eyes and the sharp points of his fangs. “Sometimes, the bite can feel good.”

She swallowed, then shoved against his shoulders. She wasn’t sure which one of them was more surprised when he staggered back. “And sometimes it can kill.” Wow, where had she gotten that kind of strength? She’d just shoved him a good four feet. His back had bumped into the metal banister. If the guards hadn’t drugged her, would she have been able to use that kind of strength on them before?

His gaze raked over her. “Remembered that part, did you?”

No. “Yes,” she lied at once, wondering how much she could get him to reveal. Her actual death part was still rather foggy for her.

He glanced toward the locked door, then his gaze rose up, scanning the stairs that led to the second floor. “I was starving. They hadn’t fed me in months.”

This was supposed to make her feel better? He’d actually attacked her. Hardly the start of some epic relationship.

“I tried to give you my blood,” he growled out. “If you’d just been able to take a few sips, you would’ve been okay.”

The image of his face—dark, desperate, Let her drink!—flashed suddenly through her mind, and Sabine sucked in a sharp gasp of air.

Maybe there was a reason she couldn’t remember those last moments before the fire. Maybe she didn’t want to remember.

“But it was all part of Wyatt’s experiment,” Ryder muttered. “He wanted you to die, so he could see you rise again.”

Goose bumps were on her arms. “I don’t understand any of this.”

He inclined his head toward the stairs. “The guards are gone. Come on, we need to go.”