Page 15 of Red Rooster

“We’ll figure something out,” Trina said at last, but she was a beat too slow, and her smile was a bit too forced.

~*~

“Sasha,” Nikita said, like a command, then grabbed Trina’s arm and dragged her around the corner and into her bedroom.

“Hey!” It was a token protest. Lanny’s eyes were all pupil right now, and it was freaking her out. And she couldn’t have pulled loose if she wanted to. Nikita didn’t crush her wrist, but his hand was locked more securely than any cuff.

He heeled the door shut when they were inside and then let her go.

Trina lifted her wrist to examine it: no marks; he’d been careful.

“You don’t need to be alone with him right now,” he said, matter-of-fact.

“I’m not afraid of Lanny,” she said, and it was only half a lie.

Nikita sighed and tilted his head, not buying it. “You saw him in there. He’s not in control.”

“He’s fine.”

“You don’t believe that.”

No, she didn’t, but she didn’t knowwhatto believe right now.

Well, almost.

She turned away from him, massaging her temples and the headache gathering there. “Shit, this is all my fault.”

“Why? Because you sent him to me?”

She whirled back around, doing her best to shield her expression…probably failing. “Yeah, because I sent him to you. So you could–” She was hyperventilating. Chest heaving, pulse pounding. She made a gasping sound and bent double, hands on her knees. Shit.

Nikita stepped in closer, his shadow falling across hers on the rug. When he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically soft. “He needs some time to adjust. It will be fine, Ekaterina. Don’t fret.”

She tipped her head back and caught something vulnerable in his gaze. “I didn’t want him to die,” she whispered.

“Of course you didn’t,” he said, his hand landing on her back, light and soothing. “And he won’t. We’ve just got to see him through this.”

“You’re not going to…put him down?”

He flashed her a crooked half-smile. “He’s your mate. Even if he’s an asshole.”

A laugh bubbled up in her throat, surprising and welcome.

His smile widened, a little strained; she’d only ever seen him smile naturally and easily when he was looking at Sasha. He patted her shoulder and stepped back, growing serious again. “This isn’t going to be easy for him, though,” he warned. “Whoever you are before you’re turned, that’s who you are after. Only everything’s more intense.”

She straightened and nodded. “You were all about denying yourself before,” she said, and he made a face. “And you still are. But Lanny’s always had a bit of an impulse control problem.” She pushed back against a sudden onslaught of fear, but little cold rivulets trickled through, like dead fingers walking down her spine. “Can we…” How strange, in this moment, that she trusted this man – this vampire – more than she trusted her own partner and lover.

“We can help him, yes. But he has to want to behave.”

Tears filled her eyes, sudden and hot, and she blinked them away. Her laugh was humorless this time, more of a cough. “That’s what I told him about chemo: he had to want to get better. And Jesus, Nik, I have no ideawhathe wants anymore.”

He waited a beat. “Well. He came to see me. So I think that means he wants to be alive for you.”

She nodded.

He studied her a moment, then his expression firmed, like he’d decided something. “Come. I’ll take him back to our place with me. Sasha can stay and watch you.”

“I don’t need watching.”

“Then he can help you track criminals. I don’t know. But I’m not leaving Lanny alone with you.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he said, “Get over it.”

“God, you’re a dictatorial asshole.”

“Yes,” he agreed, and opened the bedroom door.

On the sofa, Lanny was in the process of devouring a plate of runny scrambled eggs like a starving man.

Sasha stood at the stove, a fork in one hand, tending to a skillet full of bacon. “Who wants breakfast?” he called, and it was officially the strangest morning of her life.