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His humorless grin returned. “It pays well.”
He could laugh it off—gallows humor, I supposed—but my heart still ached for him. He’d never been given the chance to have a normal life. Being what he was—a dhampyr—left him with few options.
I thought about the Declan in my dream, the untouched one, the unscarred one—the one who hadn’t experienced violent battle like this Declan had. Dream Declan was somebody I could see myself making a life with. He was normal. He was handsome. He was as close to perfect as it got.
But he wasn’t really Declan; he was just some guy who sort of looked like him. And that was enough to give me second thoughts about my previous ideas of perfection.
We reached the stairwell, and I was disturbed by the sounds I could now hear—screams and crashes—they were coming from the level lower than we were.
Declan looked at me. “Probably not a good idea to go down there.”
“That’s where Jackson is—if he’s still alive.”
His expression turned grim. “I need to get you out first. Then I’ll come back for him.”
Fear knifed through my gut. “Like hell you will. You’re hurt.”
“I can’t leave him here.”
“I feel the same way about that woman.”
He eyed me. “The woman you don’t know. That you’ve never met.”
“I don’t care. I have to help her.” I stopped climbing at the next floor, the one above where we’d been. This was where she was being kept—at least, that was the impression I’d gotten. “Come on.”
I pushed open the door. The hallway seemed identical to the floor we’d been on. It felt a bit like a hospital hallway, and it smelled hyperclean, as if it had been recently flushed with antiseptic.
It was dark here and very quiet—too quiet—as if everyone had already escaped. If there had been anyone here to begin with.
I stopped walking and listened hard . . . and heard something. A steady pounding noise. “That might be her.”
“Might be.”
“Worth checking.” I picked up my pace and moved down the hall until I reached the door from which the sound was coming. I pressed my hand up against it. “Is somebody in there?”
The pounding stopped. There was silence for a moment and then, “Help! You have to get me out of here! I’m locked in!”
I tried the handle, but she was absolutely right. I looked at Declan.
He nodded. “Step aside.”
“Stay back,” I told the woman through the door. “We’re going to break the door open.”
Declan kicked the door hard. It only took a few good kicks with Declan’s heavy boot—not to mention his dhampyr strength—before it flew inward.
The woman was dressed in a pink hospital gown, her face pale with fear as she stared out at us with wide eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Now let’s get the hell out of here. We can do the meet and greet later.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She looked warily at Declan, and whatever she thought of his fearsome looks made her noticeably cringe. “Where’s Dr. Reynolds?”
“He’s dead.” I said it bluntly, but it made me flash back to what happened in the examining room. I shuddered. “And so are we if we loiter around here for much longer.”
“Dead?” Her voice broke.
“I’m surprised you care. He’s the one who locked you up.”
“No—” She looked confused. “He’s paying me a lot of money to help him with his research. I need the money. My parents—I’m supporting them. I’m all they have.”
