Page 74 of Breaking Danger
She stopped. Brought a hand to her mouth.
“What, honey?” Jon asked, holstering the gun. He wouldn’t have used the stunner for fear of hurting her. Something about her stillness caught his attention. His gaze sharpened. “Honey? What’s wrong?”
Sophie lifted her shaking hand and pointed.
He looked down at himself and froze. Right there, on the back of his hand, was a bite mark. Unmistakeably human.
He was infected.
Jon’s face turned to stone. He handed his gun to her, butt first.
“Here,” he said, tapping the bridge of his nose. “Aim here. Take the cortex out. Do it now.”
Sophie waswhite as the scattered snow on the ground. Crazily, when he handed his gun to her, she put her hands behind her back and shook her head.
No? She was saying fuckingno?
Jon hardened his heart. He had to. Because not half an hour ago he’d been daydreaming about him and Sophie, working hard the rest of their lives to build up Haven, raising their kids in a tight circle of people who were dedicated to creating a community.
Every single objection he’d had to even thinking of settling down was gone. Sophie was his future and he’d embraced it.
Now all that was gone, gone. Due to a bite he hadn’t even felt.
He looked down at his hand, at the elliptical oval marks the human mouth left. Whichever monster had bitten him had broken skin and now he was a heartbeat away from becoming a monster himself.
“Take the gun, goddamit.” His voice was harsh, angry.
Ghost Ops soldiers always had a discreet method of suicide on them. His had been a vial of dimethylmercury in a chain around his neck. Which was in his bedroom back in Haven, of no use to him whatsoever.
Sophie had to do it.Now.
But she was shaking her head.
Now he was really mad. “Fuck this, Sophie. I don’t know how long I’ve got. I’ll bet you don’t know either. Take me out before I turn.”
“No,” she pleaded. “Listen to me. I?—”
“No, goddammit! You listen tome!” He was furious, and the feeling of being angry at Sophie—at lovely, gentle Sophie—was so strange he wondered if he was already turning. “I will not be responsible for your death. You’ve seen these creatures, Sophie. If you think that somehow I’ll turn but recognize you, that you’reyou, and not hurt you—you’re wrong. You’ve seen them—you’ve seen mothers kill their kids, children kill their grandparents. In I don’t know how many minutes I’m going to turn into a homicidal maniac and I will rip you to shreds and I can’t live with the thought. Not for one second.” He tapped the bridge of his nose again. “So do it. Right now. Because death is nothing. We all die. At least let me die knowing I won’t hurt you.”
His voice broke. It was pointless pretending to be mad at her when his heart was pounding with fear. Fear that he’d hurt her.
He’d spent all his adult life training to kill. He was good at it. He had killed often and he knew precisely what to do. Though he wouldn’t be aware of tearing Sophie to pieces, he’d do it. He could see it clearly, what he’d do to her. Death was a precious gift in comparison, if it could stop him.
If she shot him now, someone from Haven would be coming soon. They’d see the bite marks, his dead body, and understand completely. And he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that for the rest of her life, Mac and Nick would look after Sophie as if she were their own. She’d be safe. That was all that counted.
“Sophie,” he said evenly. “Now. Please.”
She took the gun from his hand, watching him out of those beautiful eyes, sad and sober.
Jon braced.
And Sophie threw the gun into the bushes.
Before Jon could run to see if he could find it, she leaped forward and put her hand on his forearm. Even through his clothes he could feel the warmth.
“Jon,” she said urgently, “listen to me.”
The anger was back. “Fuck that. We don’t have time for farewells, Sophie. I might be turning right now.”
