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“I’d prefer you steer clear of the pasty-ass noble boys, but you’re of age, so it’s not like I can stop you.” I shrugged. “Other than his shit delivery,” I sent a glare down the table. “Hawke has it right. Olivia is with you at all times if you leave the estate, and I’ll assign backup to your detail when I see fit.”

“If I wanted a male to have control of my life, I’d just strip off my gloves and run around touching everyone until a mating mark brands my skin,” she snapped, then took a steadying breath. “But fine. For the good of the species, I’ll make myself…useful around here.”

“Maybe see if you can get Cassandra to actually leave,” Lyric joked.

“That’s a failed cause. Now that Alek’s mated, she’s looking for her next victim,” Olivia answered, breaking the tension.

Well, except between the glare Avi was shooting directly in Hawke’s direction that he couldn’t give a fuck about, having moved onto polishing his next knife.

“The next matter is Night Thistle,” I said with a long sigh.

Silence reigned.

“I swore we burned the last patch of it in 1802,” Lachlan muttered.

“I thought so, too. It never sat well with my father that we’d given it to the Sons of Honor as a way to balance the scales, a way to prove they could trust us, and as usual, he was right. Even from the grave.” I kissed the back of Lyric’s hand. “Lyric’s blood is something we have yet to understand, but she saved me. Only problem is, she had to be near death to do it, and that’s not something I’m willing to risk again, even if she is.”

“I am,” she said loud and clear. “There’s no reason for any vampire to fall to Night Thistle when it’s within my capability to save them.”

I gritted my teeth, pushing down the retort that had led us into a three-hour fight last night. There was no chance in hell I was handing my wife out like some kind of Butcher’s Block feeder. No fucking way was I letting some other male put his mouth on her, his fangs in her. Just thinking about it had mine elongating.

“This is where we think we come in,” Gabriel said, clearing his throat and rolling his shoulders back. “Remediums are exceptionally rare, and we are lucky that our queen valiantly risked her life for her mate—”

“Oh, God, just stop,” Julian interrupted, rubbing his forehead. “At the chance that you might actually rip my fucking head off, my lord.” He opened the metal case in front him, and a swirl of vapor rose from the chilled interior. “I may have taken a sample of Lyric’s blood while I monitored her pulse.”

My head tilted and a growl worked its way up my throat.

“You know,” he continued. “That night. When she saved you.”

“I know what fucking night,” I snapped. “You stole Lyric’s blood?” The glasses of water on the table began to rock violently.

“Okay. Let’s just back this up a little,” Lyric stood up and moved.

Right into my lap.

Green eyes filled my vision. “Love, you know I would have given it to him, anyway. It was the smart move to make. Just think, if they wanted another sample when my blood was at its max potency, we would have to drain me almost completely—”

I snarled, baring my fangs.

“Fuck me,” Lachlan mumbled.

Lyric kissed me long and hard, opening for me with complete surrender, letting me claim her in the only way I could in public. Mine. She was mine. And they had a piece of her over there.

“Like I was saying,” she said softly, brushing her mouth over mine. “They have the sample now. No harm done.”

“Until he murders Julian,” Ransom said under his breath.

“Explain yourself,” I ordered Julian, shifting Lyric on my lap so she faced the table.

“We think we can clone the cells,” Julian said simply.

Gabriel nodded with excitement. “We do. And if we can, we’ll have a ready antidote that will render Night Thistle useless.”

“See!” Lyric kissed my cheek. “How great is that?”

“You’re going to feed my mate’s blood to anyone who gets hurt?” My eyes narrowed again.

Gabriel blinked rapidly.

“Mayday, mayday, danger, Will Robinson!” Olivia said behind her hand.

Avi chuckled.

“No, no, God, no.” Julian shook his head.

“The antibodies. That’s all,” Gabriel offered.

Lyric shifted in my lap, and I didn’t need to look at her to know what she was thinking. We had a cure. We could fight back. We had to. Slowly, I nodded at the pair. “Start working on it. God knows how long it will take until it’s ready.”

Lyric sighed in relief.

“Benedict. Ransom. Hawke. You’ll be with me at Conclave this afternoon. We’re all going to have to pull together to survive this.”

They nodded.

“Dismissed.”

They filed out a great deal more somber than they’d arrived, leaving Lyric and I alone in the command room.


Tags: Samantha Whiskey Onyx Assassins Fantasy