Then she saw nothing.

***

“No!” Jane reached for her eyes, sobbing. She’d been sentenced to a lifetime of darkness. She hadn’t meant—

“Jane?”

Her breath froze.

His fingers wrapped around her wrists. “What’s wrong?”

She didn’t lower her hands. “I saw more of your memories.” She was sure starting to think that she was far better off without the knowledge of the past.

The past freaking terrified her.

Jane forced herself to take a deep breath. Then she lowered her hands. “Lorcan…”

“You saw him in the visions?”

Saw him, and would never be able to forget that SOB. He’d enjoyed hurting her—and Alerac. Jane nodded. “I saw what he did…to you.” She looked into his eyes, those glowing eyes that didn’t belong to a man.

But to the beast.

“He took your eyes.”

Alerac’s chest was bare. The sheet tangled around his waist. He leaned over her, caging her against the covers.

Her hand lifted to his cheek. “He took your eyes.”

He caught her hand. “Don’t worry, I plan to take a hell of a lot more from him.”

Was that supposed to make her feel better? It didn’t. “Is that why your eyes glow?”

“I lost the eyes of the man.” No emotion was in his voice. “When a werewolves shifts, the beasts heal our injuries. When I finally healed, the beast gave me even better eyes than I’d had before. Stronger. Sharper.”

Finally healed. “How long did it take you to heal?”

“Long enough.”

That wasn’t an answer.

“It doesn’t matter.” Now there was emotion sliding through his mask as he eased away from her.

She thought it did matter. “One hundred years.” That had been the punishment determined by Lorcan. “You searched for me, all that time?”

“No.”

She blinked.

“It was two hundred years. After you took the knife and stabbed Lorcan,” a wry smile curved his lips as he seemed to recall the memory, “he got pissed and upped your sentence.”

She’d stabbed the guy.

Good.

The two hundred years part? Not so good. Yet somehow that didn’t bother her as much as the fact that… “He cut out your eyes. I-I thought you were supposed to be protected.” The vampiress in her vision—Keira, me—she’d wanted to protect Alerac. Not get him tortured.

Alerac rose from the bed. He walked toward the closet.

Nice ass.

He hauled on a pair of jeans and destroyed her nice view. “You were more important than my damn eyes.” He turned back to face her. “My pack was coming. We had planned a dawn attack on the vampires. You should have still been there at the keep. They would have gotten you out. Gotten me free. I would have killed Lorcan—”

“Why didn’t you kill him?” She pulled the covers over her br**sts.

His hand rose and pressed against the tattoo that covered his heart. “Because he was the only one who knew where you were. He sent men to hide you, to lock you up, and then his witch killed them.”

She didn’t remember meeting any witches, but, even so, the very idea of them was making her plenty nervous.

“I had to let Lorcan live as long as you were trapped. He was the only one that would be able to free you. That f**kin’ bastard. I dreamed of killin’ him, again and again.” His accent thickened a bit as his hand dropped. “Now I can. You’re safe, and he’s about to be minus a head.”

She hurried from the bed. “All of the other vampires—did you kill them for vengeance?”

Those images were still in her head, too. Alerac, soaked in blood. Alerac, feeding on them.

He stared back at her. “They were allied with Lorcan. I thought they might know where you were.” His lips twisted. “You aren’t the only one who can drink memories, you know.”

Her lips parted but she wasn’t sure what to say then.

“You changed me.” His voice was low. “I planned to use you. Fuck, you think I like admitting it? Seduce the vampiress, then use her to get inside the castle.”

Wasn’t that exactly what he’d done?

“Something changed.” He wasn’t touching her. She found that she couldn’t touch him.

I love you.

She’d told him that. When they were surrounded by vampires. When she’d traded her life for his.

But he hadn’t given her the same words.

“I planned to destroy all of the vampires in that clan, but not you. Not you. I was going to take you with me.”

“You’d had my blood.” And he’d realized that it made him stronger?

He gave a grim nod. “But more than that, I’d had you.”

“Alerac—”

Then she heard the shouts from outside. Angry. Desperate. In the next instant, she and Alerac were both running to the window.

The sun was still out, and it should have weakened her when she pressed open that glass.

It didn’t. Just as it hadn’t weakened her when she’d been on that motorcycle with him.

Because of his blood? Alerac had told her the truth. It sure seemed as if she’d built up some kind of immunity to the sunlight, thanks to him.

She saw Zoe and Finn. They were rushing toward the main cabin, with—with Heath between them?

“What the hell is he doing here?” Alerac demanded.

“Jane!” Heath shouted, looking up at that same moment. Blood dripped down his face and neck. “Help me!”

She started to race down to him.

“No.” Alerac wrapped his hand around her wrist. “He’s working for Lorcan.”

Heath looked as if he were dying.

Alerac’s gaze found hers. “We’ll see him together. I want to discover just what game the doc thinks he’s playing.”

“What if it’s not a game? What if he just needs help?”

“He sold you out before.” His eyes narrowed. “As far as I’m concerned, that’s a killing crime.”

She glanced back down at Heath’s slumped figure. To her, it appeared as if someone had already tried to kill him.

And, if Heath didn’t get help soon, he might not survive much longer at all.

Chapter Nine