Not even a heartbeat later, the sound of a hand connecting with flesh made Ryker flinch.
Brynleigh’s resounding groan caused bile to rise in his throat.
What was the fucking point of asking a question if there wouldn’t be a chance to answer?
Brynleigh was strong, though.
Heavy breathing came through the headphones, and Ryker imagined that she was holding herself up against a wall and staring at her Maker. Her eyes would be dark and her face grim as she gathered her strength.
“Once the game has begun, losing is not an option,” she rasped, each word sounding weaker than the last. “The only alternative to winning is death.”
At the mention of the so-called game, Ryker balled his fists. Games were good. They were fun. Chess was one that he immensely enjoyed—and he hadn’t touched it since his wedding night.
But this?
Playing with life and death was not a game.
“And tell me, young one, did you win?” Jelisette’s voice was a silky-smooth whisper laced with promises of endless pain.
Every part of Ryker was on edge as the predator made herself known. His magic had never let him down—except when it came to trusting Brynleigh, apparently—and he trusted the pulsing power in his veins when it warned him that Jelisette was one of the most dangerous enemies he’d ever come across.
Not only had the older vampire fed her progeny lies and forged herinto a weapon of death, but she’d played her. Brynleigh was a victim in this, too.
Ryker knew that, but that knowledge left him with even more questions.
Where did that leave them? How could he forget everything else that had happened? He had to protect his family and the remnants of his heart.
“No.” Brynleigh inhaled sharply. “I lost.”
That was it? Did she have nothing else to say?
Ryker held his breath, waiting for her to continue and defend herself, but nothing else came. Why wasn’t she begging for her life? Pleading for mercy? Doing fuckingsomethingto survive this encounter? Did she have no self-preservation instincts at all?
Iron mallets flung themselves against Ryker’s skull, his headache returning in full force.
Time ticked by agonizingly slowly as the silence stretched on and on. Ryker’s stomach twisted into knots, and a cold sweat coated his forehead.
By the Obsidian Sands, what was she thinking?
“Your…husbandkilled Zanri.” Disdain and hatred dripped from Jelisette’s words, and Ryker’s insides curdled.
A pause, and then Brynleigh said, “Yes.”
A lie. She knew the shifter was still alive. Ryker had told her as much.
More ominous, sickening silence. Each moment was worse than the last.
Ryker held his fist in front of his mouth, his head spinning. He was going to be sick, which was wholly unlike him. He was usually calm, reserved, and focused on the job at hand.
Not tonight.
“I should kill you for this failure,” Jelisette said conversationally.
Ryker formed an ice dagger in his hand and gripped the car door.
“But I won’t,” continued the predatory, malicious vampire. “Not yet, anyway.”
He paused.