by Amelia Elias
He turned slowly and she was almost afraid to meet his eyes, but when he faced her, his face was concealed by shadows. “Outcasts are lawless vampires,” he said, taking a step toward her. Sian stepped back and hated herself for it. “Vampires who kill their prey. I am sworn to hunt them down and protect humans from them.”
Sian wanted to shoot back some snappy comment about what nonsense he was spouting when she remembered the eerie laughter and the way her attackers had taunted her. How could anyone touch her and vanish so fast she hadn’t even seen them?
Diego watched her in silence for a moment, seeing her fight to rationalize what had just happened. He fought the urge to step into the light and show her the truth of his words. Now wasn’t the time. He didn’t want to frighten her again and right now he was enraged, his fangs out and his fingernails elongated into killing talons. He wasn’t exactly a reassuring sight.
But damn it all, she should be frightened. She’d almost died tonight and she had no idea how horrible her death would’ve been. She should be terrified, not standing up to him with the light of battle in her eyes and plans to evade him again running through her mind.
He took a deep breath, trying again to rein in his temper. Sian wasn’t a prisoner to be kept safe on a shelf for his pleasure. Why had he thought he could win her trust and passion with chains? If he’d been doing his job as her mate, she wouldn’t want to run away. Yes, Sian should be frightened tonight, but not of him. Never of him.
For the first time, he wondered if he’d been doing this all wrong from the start.
Finally she looked back up at him, searching for his eyes through the shadows. “I don’t want you to hurt the clerk,” she said quietly. “What happened back here isn’t her fault, no matter what you think. She’s just trying to make a living.”
“And she would’ve received quite a payoff for delivering a Slayer’s mate to a pack of Outcasts,” he snarled. The mere thought of it was enough to negate any small progress he’d made in containing his temper.
She stepped back again. “They called me the same thing. I’m no one’s mate, and do I even want to know what a Slayer is?”
“I’m a Slayer,” he replied softly, seeing her alarm and trying again to get hold of his fury. “It means I’m a member of an organization called the Guardian’s League. We dedicate our lives to keeping humans safe from the Outcasts, and keeping vampires safe from humans. We’re protectors, lawkeepers.” She’d understand that. He hoped. “Those of us who actively battle the Outcasts are called Slayers.”
Her back was pressed to the dumpster now, putting her as far from him as she could get. She didn’t look very understanding. His heart sank.
“And you’re going to go in there and—and slay that poor woman?” she asked in horror. “Just because she told me to take a shortcut to the pancake place?”
The look on her face tore at him and he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. He hated it, but he knew he was going to give in to her on this and leave the clerk alone despite every instinct demanding retribution. His need for revenge paled beside his desire to wipe the horror from Sian’s eyes.
Revenge would have to wait. Sian came first.
He took a deep breath and forced his rage away, feeling his fangs and claws slowly retract. Only when he was sure all traces of his vampire nature were gone did he step into the light and reach for Sian’s hand. “I wasn’t going to kill her,” he said quietly, wondering if he was lying. “I’d planned on giving her a good scare to keep her from associating with Outcasts. But if you wish it, Sian, I will leave her alone. On one condition.”
Sian’s hand was cold in his but she met his eyes squarely. “Let me guess,” she said, her tone resigned. “You want me to go back home with you.”
He smiled a little, trying to lighten the bleakness in her eyes. “I was planning on asking for a thank you kiss for saving you, but your idea is much better,” he teased.
Sian didn’t smile back. “Did they get away with my purse?”
Diego reached out and caressed her cheek. “They didn’t get away at all,” he said gently. “I can’t allow anyone to threaten you, Sian. I won’t.” It was a promise and a warning all in one.
She shivered and he turned to gather up her purse, giving her a moment to pull herself together. When he handed her things to her she took them as if on auto-pilot. Only when he held out her little gun did her expression change.
Sian looked at him in surprise as she accepted it from him. She checked the clip and frowned to find it still loaded, minus the single shot the Outcast had fired at him in desperation during their fight. “Why would you give me this back?” she asked, confusion evident in her eyes.
Diego tucked it into her purse and slipped the strap over her shoulder. “You’re not my prisoner, Sian, despite what you think,” he said, wishing he knew how to make her believe it. “You are the most important person in the world to me. Whatever you want is yours for the asking. You won’t have a reason to shoot me and I want you to have all the protection you can get. Why shouldn’t I let you have your gun?”
“If I’m not your prisoner, why did you follow me tonight?”
He shook his head in exasperation. “Would you rather I hadn’t? Honestly, Sian, you drive me crazy. Can I do nothing right?”
Sian started to answer but stopped herself. When had she become such a shrew? If Diego hadn’t arrived when he had, she’d still be at the mercy of three men who looked like they had none. She blushed and looked at her feet.
“Thank you for saving me.” The words were difficult for her, but she knew she owed him at least that much.
“You’re very welcome,” Diego replied, and she heard the smile in his voice as he draped an arm over her shoulders. “Now, can I take you home or did you have your heart set on eating at the pancake place?”
She blinked in surprise. He was willing to take her to a restaurant, a very public place where she could speak to people and ask for help? She didn’t know what had caused this sudden change of attitude and she wasn’t sure she trusted it yet. After all, what sane woman would trust a man who called himself a Slayer?
“I’ve lost my appetite,” she said, and it was true. Reaction was setting in and all she wanted was to sleep off the adrenaline letdown. “I guess I’ll go back to your house since I don’t have a home of my own anymore.”
“My home is your home. Everything in it is yours,” Diego said, running a gentle fingertip down her cheek. “Next time you want to go to the city, why don’t you take a car? I think I had a heart attack at the thought of you hitchhiking.”
She laughed a little. “Hard to take a car without keys,” she pointed out.
Diego reached into his pocket and pulled out his own keys, dropping them into her hand without hesitation. Sian stared stupidly at them for a moment. “You were serious?”
He sighed. “Of course I was serious. One of these days you’ll learn I can’t lie to you. Now close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked you to.”
Sian looked at him for a long moment before complying. After what he’d done for her tonight, hesitating to trust him enough to close her eyes seemed petty. Diego lifted her in his arms and she didn’t bother to protest. She started to open her eyes at the sudden feel of incredible speed and wind rushing past her, but Diego bent and murmured in her ear as though he truly was reading her mind.
“Keep them closed, querida. If I see those gorgeous baby blues I swear I’m going to kiss you senseless.” She squeezed her eyes shut and he chuckled softly. “I’m starting to think you don’t like my kisses,” he teased.
“You can keep your lips to yourself.” Still, she clutched his shoulders hard as the bottom seemed to fall out of her stomach. It felt like she was falling from a great height, almost like flying—but that was madness. She’d seen him run fast the night they’d found her apartment trashed. Surely running was all he was doing now.
But why would he want her to close
her eyes for it?
“I’m losing my mind,” Sian mumbled, holding onto his shoulders tight. “And you’re not helping.”
Diego laughed as he glided down and landed softly on the porch. He should’ve known better than to try to hide the flight from her, should’ve called a taxi again, but if she didn’t know what he was after what had happened in the alley, she was truly insane. Besides, he’d needed the freedom of flight to help clear the last traces of fear from his mind.
“All right, we’re here,” he said, setting her gently on her feet but keeping his arms around her.
As soon as Sian opened her eyes, Diego made good on his promise and gave in to the need to claim her mouth. She gasped in surprise and he used the opening to sweep his tongue inside, catching fire at once and growling at the intoxicating taste of her lips. Dios, he’d been worried sick about her! He pulled her fully into his arms as he walked her back until her back was pressed to the front door. The feel of her body pressed hard against his only spurred him on. Her hands tightened on his shoulders and she kissed him back, tentatively at first and then more eagerly. Diego threaded his fingers into her hair, loving the way she responded to him and determined to make her as wild with need as he was.
She made a needy sound into his mouth and he kissed her again, a long, slow kiss that made him burn. She clung to him with a desire she wouldn’t admit and his frustration reached new heights. Her eyes caressed him when she thought he wasn’t looking and she responded to his kisses like a starving woman at a feast, but she still refused to acknowledge what was between them. She still ran away.
He wanted her to admit she wanted him, damn it. He was getting tired of having to steal kisses from her.
He forced himself to pull away despite the raw desire pounding through his body. The sight of Sian looking up at him, her aquamarine eyes misty with passion, was almost enough to make him forget his resolve to stop. He forced himself to step back, releasing her completely.
Sian pressed her fingers to her lips, still looking at him with dazed eyes. He gave her a smile that felt false on his lips.
“Forgive me,” he said, reaching past her and opening the door. “I forgot you wanted me to keep my lips to myself.”
Sian stared at him as he brushed past her and went inside without another word, too stunned to move. He’d been angry just now. She’d seen it in his face and heard it in his voice. How could he kiss her like that and be angry a second later?
“Diego?” she said, following him through the open door hesitantly and only now realizing they were back at his house. How had he gotten them home this fast? She’d seen him run fast before but it hadn’t felt like he’d been running—
“You need something?” he asked over his shoulder.
She followed him into the kitchen but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the red stain on the back of his platinum shirt. Every other thought evaporated.
“Diego, you’re hurt!” she cried, hurrying to him and pushing up the back of his shirt, searching for his wound.
He brushed her hands away and shrugged his shirt off himself. “The bullet grazed my shoulder,” he said calmly. She watched him pull the dishtowel off its hook and press it to a raw, painful-looking gouge on the back of his shoulder. “It’s nothing,” he added, glancing at her face. The anger melted from his eyes and he gave her a concerned look. “It’ll be gone tomorrow night, Sian. There’s no need to look like that.”
She didn’t know how she looked, but she felt horrified, and she thought she had every reason to be that way. He’d actually gotten shot while fighting for her tonight. She watched a blossom of red appear on the white dishtowel and clutched the back of one of the chairs.
“Diego, you’re bleeding,” she said, telling herself resolutely she wasn’t going to be sick despite the queasy feeling in her stomach. This was crazy. She had no problem with the sight of blood and never had. Why should she feel like passing out at the sight of it now?
Because it’s Diego who’s sitting there bleeding, a little voice in her mind piped up, and much as Sian wanted to deny it, she couldn’t.
“Where’s your first aid kit, or do you even have one?” she asked, turning and starting to go through the cabinets, anything to keep herself from staring at his bloodstained shirt or the little red blossom on the towel. Her lips felt numb and her ears were ringing. She was on the verge of passing out and hated herself for it. “You shouldn’t use a kitchen towel, it’s not sterile, you’ll get an infection—no, forget the first aid kit, you should go to the hospital, you probably need stitches or something, a tetanus shot or—”
She stopped babbling when she felt his hands on her shoulders. “Calm down,” Diego said softly. “I’m fine, Sian.”
She whirled on him. “Sit down!” she snapped, pushing him back toward a chair. “And keep pressure on that!” He looked like he was going to argue for a moment and she pushed him again. What if he passed out? How in the world would she move him to a bed? The man outweighed her by a hundred pounds if he weighed an ounce. “Sit!”
He obeyed with the merest hint of amusement on his face, spinning a chair around and straddling it backwards. “The first aid kit is on top of the refrigerator,” he told her, pointing. “If you’re feeling medical, I’d let you put some butterflies on this. It’ll heal without them, but I think I have enough scars already.”
She glared at him even as she went to pull down the kit. “You need stitches, not butterfly bandages,” she repeated as she slammed the kit down on the table, letting her anger wash away the dizziness. This was stupid, completely and utterly ridiculous. She should use this opportunity and the keys he’d given her to get out of here, and yet here she was, playing nurse. It made no sense.
She refused to analyze it further and opened the first aid kit. Her eyes widened as she looked over the contents. “Are you setting up your own hospital here or something?” she asked, incredulous. He had everything she could possibly think of in here and some things she didn’t even want to know the uses of. “Good Lord, Diego, do you get hurt a lot?”
He laughed at her. “You saw tonight what I do on a nightly basis,” he said. “What do you think?”
She wasn’t touching that one. She dug through the kit and pulled out a suture kit wrapped in plastic. She looked at it for a long moment, trying to figure out if she could bring herself to use it, when Diego spoke again.
“I don’t need stitches, Sian. Just slap some tape over this and I’ll be good as new, I promise.”
“That’s good, because I don’t think I can do stitches without passing out on you,” Sian admitted, exchanging the suture kit for a little package of butterfly closures. “Do you have something for pain? This is going to hurt.”
He shrugged. “Chemicals don’t go well with my system,” he said. “It’s best if you just do it fast and get it over with.”
Sian bit her lip to keep from arguing. If he wanted to be a manly man and take the pain, who was she to try to dissuade him? She wet another dish towel and cleaned around the towel Diego still held. He moved it and she sucked in a breath at the sight of the raw wound, but she fought down the queasiness that tried to overcome her and gently cleaned the area, wincing with sympathetic pain the entire time, before opening the butterflies. “Are you sure you won’t take anything before I do this?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Why, if I didn’t know you better I’d swear you were concerned about me.”
“I just don’t want to hurt anyone,” Sian snapped, feeling her cheeks heat and knowing she hadn’t fooled him. “Not even someone as arrogant as you.”
He laughed. “Just do it, Sian,” he told her gently. “They haven’t invented a pain medicine yet that will work on a vampire. I’ll be fine.”
“There you go with the vampire stuff again,” Sian grumbled, hoping he didn’t see how her hands trembled. “At least you’re not suggesting I think of another way to distract you.”
He leaned his forehead against the back of the
chair. “Trust me, the thought crossed my mind. Unfortunately I have a good imagination and I’m sure I can picture exactly how receptive you’d be to the suggestion, and I have no desire to add another wound to my collection.”
Sian drew the first butterfly across the wound, pinching it together until the edges touched. Diego didn’t wince or move, but she knew it had to hurt, and she hurried with the rest of them. He was so still she wondered for a moment if he’d passed out. The only movement was the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. When she finished with the last one, she touched his other shoulder gently.
“Diego, are you all right?”
He turned his head and gave her a little smile, his eyes still closed, and she breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to the kit. “You have a much gentler touch than James,” Diego said. “I think I’ll keep you.”
She laughed more from nervousness than humor. Tears came to her eyes for no explainable reason and she blinked them away. “I don’t know if my first-aid training extends to vampires. Maybe you’d better stick with James.”
She heard him move behind her and shivered when his fingertips brushed her hair. “Yes, but you’re much better looking than James.”
She fought the urge to turn and wrap her arms around him, to run her hands over him and reassure herself that he was truly all right. What was wrong with her tonight?
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, babbling the first thing that came to mind to distract her thoughts from that dangerous path. “Dress him up in a skirt and who knows?”
Diego chuckled and moved away. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved when he left the kitchen. She dropped into the chair he’d vacated, wrapping her arms around herself as reaction from this crazy night crashed in on her.
She might have died tonight, died in some random alley for no reason at all. It wasn’t Santonyo’s thugs who’d attacked her tonight. Her death would’ve been a random act of violence, another statistic at the hands of some faceless street punks who’d been at the right place at the wrong time. Diego had incredibly shown up in the nick of time and saved her, but he’d gotten shot in the process and it was only due to simple luck he hadn’t been seriously hurt.
