“I’m sorry,” I said, curling my hair over my shoulder. “You think that you can tell me how to treat you simply because of the blood that you and I share? That’s not how this works. You may be my grandfather, but you don’t get to tell me how to behave. For my entire life, up until this moment, I thought you were dead. Now, suddenly, you’re back, and it’s because –“

  “It’s because Hugo Guzman was going to kill you, and I got to him before he could,” my grandfather pointed out. “I saved your life. I saved Jon’s life.”

  “Why?” I furrowed my brow, shaking my head. “I get that maybe you feel some sort of family obligation to me, but if you want to put Jon down, why not have Guzman kill him? There would be no blood on your hands. You would get what you wanted.”

  “You think I want to put Hawkins down?” he asked. Without warning, he began to walk. I tensed, ducking out of his way. The last thing I needed was for him to blindsight me and touch me. I had a personal bubble I rarely let friends into. I wouldn’t let my grandfather into it, even if we were supposed to be family. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because you’ve said as much,” I replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, the fact that he’s killed a bunch of your men. The fact that he won’t go away quietly. The fact that you guys can’t seem to control him. You feel responsible for him. I could keep going, but I’m sure you get the point.”

  “Putting Jon down isn’t something I want to do, but I will,” he said. “My goal is to reprogram him.”

  “Re… program him?” I tilted my head to the side, trying to understand what he meant by that. “But that’s not what you said. You wouldn’t cure him -”

  “Why would I cute him after such a heavy investment in the technology he has inside of him? If I can get him to obey me, he will be my first complete success,” he said. “The rest of Project Bloodshade did not take to the serum as well as I hoped. But I will put him down if I can’t make this work.”

  Flashbacks of the government building Jon and I barely escaped from, with other test subjects, sprinkled across my mind. The men behind cages were other pieces of the Bloodshade puzzle, being tested, poked, and prodded against their will. I wondered if they even knew what had happened to them. I wondered if they were angry like Jon, wanting their revenge, or if they were so grateful to be alive that they were willing to do anything that it took in order to remain alive, even if that meant killing others.

  “Two test subjects escaped,” he continued. “A male and a female.”

  “Female?” I furrowed my brow. “I thought the only unit you tested this on was a Marine unit that Jon was part of. I never heard of a woman Marine.”

  “I never said she was one,” my grandfather said. “Jessica Clien is a sniper for the Army. She died in combat until I brought her back to life. She was practically her own weapon before she died. Her accuracy was the best in the entire Army.” He shook his head, clearly impressed with all she could do. “James Jackman was also a Marine in Jon’s unit. Jon thinks he died in the blast of the landmine that was supposed to kill him, but he didn’t.”

  “You didn’t want to kill the entire unit,” I stated slowly, as another piece to this story fell into place.

  “Of course, I didn’t,” my grandfather said as though it was obvious. “That unit had fourteen people, which meant fourteen test subjects. I put an explosive there, thinking people would get injured, but I had enough serum to ensure that I saved them all. They just didn’t take to it the way I thought. I had to go back to the drawing board. I had to try again. And I did, this time with Jessica. I didn’t trust killing a unit again, but if I waited for the right test subject to be on the brink of death, that was when I made my move.”

  Without warning, I backed into the couch and dropped down. I knew that gave my grandfather the advantage. I knew that by doing this he had all the power. But I needed space. I needed to try and take in this onslaught of information. My grandfather was giving me names, units, military branches. There was so much I could research here, so much I could prove. I wanted to remember it all so I could tell Jon, so I could get him the information he needed.

  I also wanted it for myself. I wanted to write an in-depth article for the paper that revealed everything that had happened. I wanted the government, including my grandfather, to be exposed. I wanted to get help for those still alive and affected by the serum and anything else Project Bloodshade did to them. I wanted to bring everyone involved down, but I wasn’t sure if I could do that. I wasn’t sure if Jon was going to want to help me.

  I didn’t want to kill those involved. That would mean killing my grandfather, and I didn’t think I could do something like that. But maybe, maybe Jon would agree that it didn’t have to get that far.

  I swallowed, looking at the faded carpet beneath my feet. I doubted that. Jon had one intention and one only: putting everyone down involved in Project Bloodshade. I wasn’t sure, but he seemed ready to apply that lethal justice to his ex-girlfriend, the woman he considered the great love of his life until he found out that she recruited him unbeknownst to him to the project. I hated Yvonne with everything I had, hated how she treated Jon, hated how, before I knew who she was to the project, how she left him after discovering what she became. She was an awful person. Now, she was dating the new mayor – another agent in Project Bloodshade – who quickly filled the void in Stephanie Guzman’s death, who was campaigning about restoring the city of Perry to its former glory.

  “Guzman was always going to die,” I said before I could stop myself. “You planned… everything.”

  My grandfather’s lips curved up, but there was no sparkle in his eyes.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I need to know who I can trust,” he said. “Ben has always been a good little soldier. He understands the nature of the game, the whys behind it. He doesn’t question me. He does what he’s told.”

  “So, threatening me,” I said slowly. “You told him to do that?”

  It was like the air was sucked out of the room. My grandfather slowly narrowed his eyes and twisted his jaw into a clench. He waited a beat, two, then released his jaw.

  “What do you mean, he threatened to kill you?” he asked, each word clipped, like it was its own question.

  “Ben wanted to use me to get to Jon,” I said. “He seemed to think that Jon cared enough about me to care what happens to me, and he wanted to use me to take advantage of that.” I furrowed my brow, leaning against the back of the couch so I could look at him without having to crane my neck. “What, you didn’t know that? I thought you were the person in charge of everything. I thought you knew everything and that no one dared go against you.”

  I thought, for sure, my grandfather would react to my words, my tone, the fact that I was mocking him. He seemed like a serious man, someone who didn’t take kindly to being mocked, especially not by his granddaughter.

  But I was wrong.

  He didn’t look bothered about it in the least. If anything, it almost seemed as though he didn’t hear me at all.

  I opened my mouth, wanting him to keep talking, wanting some sort of reaction, but then, I opted to press my lips together. I didn’t want to push too hard. I was testing his boundaries. Right now, he looked as though he was deep in thought about what I just said. I didn’t want to interrupt that, not when I might be able to retain the upper hand in the conversation.

  “I was not aware that Ben did this,” he finally said.

  “What are you aware of?” I found myself asking. “As in, what’s your plan? You killed Hugo Guzman because… why? Because you found out he was planning to kill Jon?”

  “Pretty much,” my grandfather said. “He was going against my orders. The problem with the Guzmans is that they’re pride controlled them. I liked Stephanie, but when someone pissed her off, she demanded their balls on a silver platter. Her uncle was even worse. I don’t lose sleep with that family is dead.”

  “But what did you expect?” I asked. “You put them in power because you want people to look the other way in regards to your experiments, even other parts of the government!” I laughed even though the entirety of the situation wasn’t funny. “Why didn’t you expect that this was how things would turn out? Surely, you’re a smarter man than that.”

  My grandfather clenched his jaw. “Listen,” he said. “I’m not here to talk to you about everything I’ve done wrong. I’m here to offer you what you’ve wanted: the truth. The truth about your parents, the truth about your uncle, and the truth about Project Bloodshade. I just want you to give me Jon Hawkins.” He paused. “You were worried that I was here to kill him. Clearly, you love him.” He held up a hand. “Don’t try to deny it. It’s as palpable as your love for Christ.” He nodded at my necklace. “Love isn’t a bad thing, Lara. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  “So, love isn’t a weakness?” I asked doubtfully.

  “It’s everything,” my grandfather said. “You love Jon. Does that mean you love him enough to keep him alive, no matter what that means?”

  I paused. Of course, my answer was yes. It couldn’t be anything but yes. But I knew my grandfather wanted to help himself and was only using me to get that assistance. I needed to make sure I didn’t say something I would regret.

  “What do you want?” I asked slowly.

  “You said there’s a cure to Jon’s affliction,” he said. “Nightshade.”

  I nodded, chewing my bottom lip. I made a mental note to swipe Chapstick on my lips the soonest chance I got. I could already feel them start to get dry.

  “What if we arranged a deal so we both got what we wanted?” he said, spreading his hands out.

  “And what would that be?” I was only going to indulge him for the information, not because I actually believed he would help me.

  “I want information on Jon,” he said. “I want to know what worked with the serum, what didn’t, so I can go back to the lab and make this better. To perfect it. If you can get Jon to agree to come with me, I’ll heal him and return him to you untouched, unharmed.”

  I didn’t believe him. Not after everything he just said. “Bullshit,” I said.

  His smiled widened. “I’m not asking you to trust me, Lara,” he said. “But if you don’t want the world hunting Jon like the beast he is, you’ll do this.” He nodded to the door. “Go. Think. Talk it over with him. You never know. He may want the opportunity to be human again. And, just so you know, that information on him, as long as it pans out, it’s the only way I’ll let him go alive.”

  Chapter 5

  I didn’t need to be told twice. The fact that both Jon and I emerged from the brownstone – albeit at different times – alive and well was enough for me to thank God.

  At the same time, I wasn’t sure what I felt concerning everything I knew. Each time my brain started to try and piece things together, to make sense of them, it turned into mush. It stopped working. My temples pinched. My mind echoed with silence. It was like I was a computer and I needed to force a shut down or I wasn’t going to function.

  I knew that meant I needed rest. I needed sleep. If I went to Robby’s now, I wouldn’t get that. He would be up, wired by how the course of the night played out. Worried about me, no doubt.

  As much as I appreciated his concerns, I didn’t have the energy to indulge him just yet.

  Instead, I made my way down the street, grateful I had taken self-defense the past few months. That didn’t mean I felt comfortable walking alone at night, but it did mean that I felt relatively confident I could protect myself in case I had to deal with someone who wanted to attack me as I waited for a cab to drive by.

  It was only a few moments later when one did. I waved it down, crawled into the back, and gave him my address. The drive felt longer than it should have, but maybe that was because it was overwhelmingly warm in the car. It was sticky and it was difficult to breathe. By the time I got to my building, I all but threw the cash at him and stumbled out. How I still held onto my wallet after that ordeal, I didn’t know but I was thankful I had.

  My doorman opened the door. I forced myself to nod, to thank him, even though it felt impossible, even though it felt like I was a robot and my joints needed oil in order for me to move smoothly again. I fumbled with my keys stepping into the elevator and let out a mangled sob the second the doors closed and I was alone.

  What the hell had happened tonight? I thought it was all over. I thought we were done.

  But we weren’t. There was more. So much more I hadn’t counted on.

  I managed to rein in my emotions as the elevator rang out the second it reached my floor. I stumbled forward. I didn’t even want to soak in a hot bath when I got to my place. I just wanted to sleep.

  I took my keys and unlocked the door, stepping inside, and shutting it behind me. When I was sure the door was locked and the latch was in place, I rolled my shoulders forward and let out a sigh. I set my keys down, I stepped out of my shoes and knelt down to pick them up, and I made my way to my bedroom.

  Where Jon was.

  I let out a little shriek. He didn’t even look perturbed. He sat on the edge of my bed, hands between his legs, hunched forward, staring at my carpet. I had no idea he would even be here, and I wasn’t sure why he was here in the first place. He didn’t even look up when I walked in.

  “You scared the shit out of me,” I said, dropping my shoes and kicking them under my bed. “What are you doing here?”

  “I needed to make sure you were okay,” he said, finally tilting his head up and catching my eye.

  Immediately, I saw the concern, the worry he had for me in them. I was shocked that Jon was allowing himself to be so open with me, to be so vulnerable. Normally, he held back his emotions, he shielded them from everyone including himself. But now, he was letting me in.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, dropping my purse on my bed and standing front of him.

  “What’s wrong?” he repeated, like he didn’t know why I was asking the question in the first place. “How could you even ask me something like that? I had to leave you with that piece of shit. I didn’t know if you were going to be okay or not. I was fucking worried about you, Lara. That’s what’s wrong.”

  I swallowed. I didn’t realize he would feel that way, which made me feel stupid. I reached for him, then hesitated. I knew Jon didn’t like to be touched much by anyone, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. I didn’t want to put him in a position he didn’t want to be part of.

  Jon seemed to know why I held back. He swallowed, reached up, and took my hand in his. He turned it, bringing the inside of my wrist to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the exposed skin. I sucked in a deep breath. How easy it was for him to disarm me in such a simple gesture. How easy it was for me to come undone at his feet. His eyes never left mine as he took my hand and put it on his head, knowing I would run my fingers through his choppy hair.

  “Why do you not understand that I care about you?” he asked in a low, throaty voice. “Why do you not get that?”

  “You don’t tell me anything, Jon, and I’m not going to make assumptions,” I said, running my fingers through his hair the exact way I knew he’d like. “If you want me to know how you feel about me, you have to show me. And yeah, you have to tell me too.”

  “You’re a smart girl,” he said, his voice dropping low in the way it tended to do right before he kissed me, right before he ravaged my body with his own. I swallowed, hoping he couldn’t see I was already responding to him, to the possibility of being with him intimately after he almost died by my grandfather’s hand. “I thought you’d figure it out.”

  “What was the quote about assumptions and asses?” I asked.

  “You tell me,” he said. “You’re the journalist.”

  “If I told you, would you listen?” I arched a brow.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess in order to get your point across, you would have to show me.”

  I rolled my eyes. How quickly he was able to turn my words around and use them against me. I hated him for it. I loved him for it too.

  Jon brushed his fingertips across my bottom lip, staring at me with such intensity that I swore I could have burst into flames. I wanted him to be less subtle. I wanted him to do more. There was a tenseness between us thanks to my grandfather, and I wanted to erase that completely. I wanted to feel the comfort of him inside of me, filling me up, making me whole, encouraging me to forget the world was on fire around us and to only focus on this moment with him.

  “Lara, if you don’t know how I feel about you by this point, you’ll never know,” he said. “You consume me. Everything you do drives me crazy. I want to protect you and I want to give you independence. I want to fuck you so hard you bruise from the inside and I want to worship your body like a goddamn cathedral. I want you in every way I can have you, and then I fucking hate myself for wanting you because you are light and my darkness will consume you until you are snuffed it.”

  “That’s not true,” I whispered.

  “Everyone around me is dead,” he said, “and they didn’t mean shit compared to you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about that,” I said. I reached up and placed my palm against his neck. His pulse throbbed against my skin, reminding me that he was alive, reminding me that even though he should be dead, he wasn’t. “I don’t want to talk at all.”

  “I thought you wanted me to tell you how I felt,” he pointed out. He tilted his head towards me so the tip of his nose caressed my cheek.

  I closed my eyes, swallowed again. I tried to get a grip on myself, but I was doing a shitty job of it. I needed to figure myself out before I ended up in a pile of liquid on the floor.

  “I want you to show me,” I said. I opened my eyes, watching his dark orbs get even darker. “I want you to fuck me so hard I forget my own name. Can you do that for me?”