by Laura Kaye
With the heel of his other hand, Kenric rammed the DEAD’s forehead. The blow sent the vampire reeling back onto the concrete. Shoving his boot into the DEAD vampire’s face and neck, he held him in place. The bloodsucker hissed, and his lower body squirmed in a desperate attempt to escape.
Blood soaked his shirt and clung like a warm second skin to Kenric’s right side. Damn, he was losing blood too fast. Leaning over the flailing addict, he met the crazed eyes of the creature. “Like I said, pissing me off will get you killed.” He plunged the blade of his silver-plated dagger deep into the vampire’s heart.
Kenric yanked the dagger out and wiped the blood from his blade across the vampire’s stained shirt. Smoke rose from the wound, and within seconds, the body reeked of sulfur and death, a stomach-churning aroma that smelled like a sour and rotting landfill. Loud pops and crackles sprang from the smoldering flesh. With a whoosh, the body swelled to twice its size and the sound of ripping seams punctuated the macabre event. Seconds later came the hissing release of implosion and decompression. Thanks to the nasty reaction of a vampire’s blood to silver, Kenric didn’t have to risk the hours it would take for the bodies and clothing to decompose to ash.
One stab directly into each of the two remaining DEADs’ hearts, and the decomposition process was well under way. No evidence would remain of the battle for humans to find. Their blood would smoke with the rest of their bodies, leaving nothing behind. However, his own blood was making a fucking mess everywhere. He’d have to call Guerin to arrange for cleanup ASAP.
“Dammit!” He steadied himself against the wall before picking up the last scattered blade. His head spun on a perpetual carnival ride.
He edged along the wall with one hand for balance. The denim around his right leg, saturated with blood, clung with each step. The car was still four blocks away. Even as a master, there was no way in hell he’d have enough strength to phase back to the compound.
The wounds to his throat and side throbbed like a mother. The DEADs weren’t organized enough to have their hands on silver-plated daggers. Good thing, because those open holes would be sending up smoke signals.
His vision clouded.
Sweat ran rivulets down the sides of his face and dripped into his eyes. The salt burned, obscuring his vision even more. Kenric leaned against the wall for support. His chest heaved. Focus. Slow your breathing. He reached inside his coat for his cell. Going to need… Pickup…
“Bloody hell!” Everything went black.
Chapter Three
“Come on… Move! It’s the pedal on the right!” Emily glared through her windshield at the car with an out-of-state license plate crawling into the intersection. She twitched in her seat, her foot itching for the gas pedal. “God, I can walk faster.”
Her path cleared, and she floored the accelerator of her Corolla. It sputtered, then lurched forward, building speed. She sighed in relief, amazed that something hadn’t ruptured in the decade-old engine.
Track number five lit the LCD display on her CD player. Her favorite song, “Crashed” by Daughtry, filled the interior and lifted her spirits. Dialing up the volume with one hand, Emily thumped her fingers on the steering wheel with the other and hummed the melody, trying to settle her nerves.
She’d volunteered to pull the extra eight-hour shift tonight but hadn’t counted on the weekend traffic clogging the main road into downtown Elizabeth Bay at this time of night. She was late, and she hated being late.
With a deep breath, Emily took the next turn, heading into the area known as The Docks. It was a seedy part of town, and she wasn’t thrilled at the thought of maneuvering through there in the middle of the night. But if she kept her doors locked and kept moving, she’d be safe and shave ten minutes off her trip.
She’d been through there twice before, and each time the area had made her nervous. This trip didn’t feel any less intimidating. The shortcut consisted of several turns through narrow cobblestone streets lined with bars, strip clubs, and streetwalkers.
With a death grip on the steering wheel, Emily made her third turn. This one onto Anchor, another one of the bumpy streets. Her Corolla rumbled and bounced on the uneven pavement, making her bones feel much older than their twenty-eight years.
A fine mist covered the windshield, creating murky, shadowy images. Emily tapped the wipers to clear the haze. To her right, the dark form of a man lay slumped on the sidewalk, his upper torso tilted in an awkward position, facedown. Probably drunk out of his skull. She shrugged but found herself slowing the car for a better look.
Emily clicked on her high beams. The wide berth of white light flooded the narrow corridor. An unmistakable trail of dark crimson ran from beneath him. She hit the brakes.
Stopping on one of these streets late at night was not the smartest move, but her internal need to help the man overrode her instinct for self-preservation. No way could she drive off and leave someone alone in the street to bleed to death. She quickly dialed 911 on her cell before grabbing her first-aid kit from her dash and exiting the vehicle.
The car’s high beams cast a veil of white light around the man and her. God, there was so much blood. She placed two fingers on the side of his neck and checked for a pulse. His skin chilled her fingertips, but there was a faint thump. Shallow breathing warmed the palm she’d placed near his nose and mouth.
He was alive.
Her heart raced, each beat like a bass drum in her ears. Hello, adrenaline rush.
She ran to her trunk and pulled out an old wool blanket. Granted, she’d never expected to use it to cover a stranger who lay bleeding to death on the sidewalk, but hey, kudos for being prepared for anything.
First priority, she had to find the source of all the blood. After pulling on a pair of latex gloves from her emergency kit, she eased him onto his back, allowing gravity to aid her with his dead weight.
Bandage scissors made easy work of slicing up the center of his black shirt. An expanse of hard muscle brushed her knuckles as she worked. With his shirt pulled back as far as his leather coat would allow, Emily started her assessment at the top of his head, working her fingers along his scalp.
All clear.
A blast of cold wind stole her breath, reminding her of the urgent situation.
“Come on, Mister. You need to hang on for me.”
Moving south, she found an open neck wound, but judging by the slow rate of seepage, no artery appeared to be nicked. It couldn’t be the source of the large amount of blood. There had to be another injury.
Running her hands down his flank, her fingers slid into a deep, penetrating wound. “Found you.”
Emily ripped open a stack of gauze sponges and one by one packed them into the wound. Afterward, she covered his torso with the blanket. Satisfied she’d done all she could, Emily shuffled on her knees to recheck his pulse and respirations. With her cheek to his face, she felt for his breath on her skin and for his heartbeat with her fingertips. Warm puffs of air passed through his lips. Thank God. His pulse, though still weak, continued to beat.
The wail of distant sirens echoed through the narrow street.
“Not long now,” she said, stroking damp raven curls off his forehead, her own breathing returning to a more natural pace. Emily traced the outline of his face down to the coarse whiskers of his chin. The fine hairs on her arms stood on end as she brushed the stiff hairs with the pads of her fingers. She shivered, blaming the cold mist.
Her thumb found the full curve of his bottom lip. Curious for the feel of the skin there, she brushed his lip with her finger. She gasped. Cool, and so very soft. Her teeth caught her own lower lip.
A blaring siren yanked Emily from her fascination. Her gaze fell back to where her fingers lingered on his lips and chin.
“What the hell am I doing?” she mumbled, snatching her hand away. God, had it been so long since she’d been with a man that she now resorted to touching one who was unconscious? Maybe her ex was right. She was the one in need of therapy.
The siren quieted and the emergency vehicle pulled to a stop behind her car. Two paramedics rushed from the vehicle, leaving the red and white lights to flash the dark street in dizzying strobe. Emily backed off, making way for the rescue workers to do their job.
They worked fast, assessing him while throwing questions she couldn’t answer at her since she knew nothing at all about him.
With IV fluids now pouring into him and a defibrillator on hand, he had a chance. Relief swept through her on a wave of post-adrenaline rush trembles. She rubbed her arms in hopes of easing the shakes.
She breathed a long sigh of relief as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance.
“I’ll follow you to the ER. I’m on duty tonight in trauma,” she said.
One of the paramedics climbed into the cab behind the wheel. A silly grin lit his face as he glanced her way. “Well, looks like you got a jump start on your shift.”
…
Someone was trying to pickax their way out of his skull.
The metallic smell of dried blood weighed heavy in the air. A wave of hunger coursed through him, tightening Kenric’s stomach into an agonizing spasm. His veins burned, demanding to be fed. A thick fog clouded his mind. Where the hell was he, and what the hell had happened?
Muffled voices chattered in the distance.
The lethargy throughout his body had sealed his eyelids. Pushing through the haze muddling his brain, he assessed his surroundings. Along with blood, there was an acrid scent of antiseptic. Above his head, the repetitive sound of a mechanical heartbeat pinged.
Shit!
How the hell did he end up in a hospital?
Through the insistent pounding within his skull, the memory of his battle with the DEADs returned. He’d been about to call Guerin when he’d blacked out. Where the hell was his phone? He had to get out of here. The itch beneath his skin, like a fucking sundial, warned him that time was running out.
The heart monitor over his head lurched into a rapid succession of beats.
Get a grip, Kenric.
He couldn’t risk drawing any unwanted attention. With a fierce hold on the gurney’s rail for strength, he focused on his heart rate, slowing it to a steady pace.
Now, to find his damn phone. He searched along his left side, feeling for the lining of his coat. A cool draft floated in under the thin sheet. Where the hell is my coat…and the rest of my damn clothes?
Approaching footsteps and a trio of voices grabbed his attention. Taking a deep breath, he stilled his movements.
“You guys go ahead and get out of here. Can you give me a rain check on breakfast? I want to check in on our John Doe one more time before I leave.”
“Come on, Emily. You’ve been at Memorial a year already, and you keep turning me down every time I try to get you to meet someone. Jake is really interested. I know you two would hit it off if you’d give it a chance.”
“I promise I will. Soon. Just not this morning. Not yet.”
“Fine,” a female said with a sigh.
The sharp sound of metal rings sliding over a rod near his head indicated one of them had entered his area.
…
Emily closed the privacy curtain of the trauma treatment room. The unidentified patient she’d found earlier at The Docks lay unconscious on the hospital gurney. Bloodstained bandages covered his flank and neck.
Once the paramedics had gotten him here, the ER had been able to stabilize him with a few universal-donor transfusions. He remained in need of additional units to bring his hemoglobin into an acceptable range, though. Unfortunately, the lab was taking longer than usual to type and cross-match him. They’d found some kind of anomaly present in his blood work. There was even talk that he possibly had some form of leukemia on top of everything else, due to the extreme elevation in his white-blood-cell count.
She followed the rise and fall of his chest and couldn’t help but admire the sheer will this man had to survive. And she couldn’t ignore the fact that even though he lay there covered in bandages, he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.
His hospital gown stretched the breadth of his shoulders, while the arm openings strained to contain his biceps. The bed sheets covered the contours of his torso, but she remembered his washboard abs.
Wavy hair, a black so deep it shone under the fluorescents, was a little longer in front than back. It fell over his forehead, almost covering his eyes. The dark waves framed a regally defined face. But it wasn’t perfect. In fact, a pale, thin scar ran along his right cheekbone, ending about an inch above his lip. To others, the scar may have damaged his looks. To her, it added character that accentuated his masculine features. The man was captivating, to say the least.
Her tongue traced her upper lip, and her body tingled.
Stop it, Emily! You’re a professional nurse who shouldn’t be ogling a patient. Just take his vital signs and get out of here.
Lifting his arm to check his blood pressure, she noticed the tattoo that wrapped around part of his right bicep. Unable to resist, she traced the outline of the connecting loops. It formed a figure eight lying on its side.
Infinity.
The symbol intersected with a dagger that pierced the center of the joining circles. Red drops of what looked to be blood dripped from the blade.
“What were you doing out there tonight?” she whispered. He was one very intriguing mystery.
Kenric lay perfectly still as the female approached him. Until he knew whom and what he was dealing with, he didn’t want to give away that he was conscious. She paused at his bedside for a moment before lifting his right arm and placing a cool device under his bicep. She must be a nurse. He savored the warmth of her hands on his skin as her fingertips glided over his bicep. The nurse traced the symbol of the Enclave, and his flesh tingled.
Suddenly her touch disappeared as a cuff tightened around his arm. Her hair teased his chest, sending chills skating across his body. He drew in a long, deep inhale. The scent from her hair and skin filled his nostrils and burrowed deep inside his mind. Her fragrance reminded him of wildflowers after a spring rain. Warm, sweet, and spicy. And did nothing to quell the storm of hunger or soothe the growing need that accompanied his appetite at this state. Both threatened to unravel the edge of his control.
He clenched the fingers of his opposite hand, struggling to maintain his patience. His fist ached from keeping such a tight hold on his control. Another deep breath filled him, sparking every neuron in his brain. She was intoxicating.
Good God. The blood that remained within him surged into his groin. Get a grip, man, before you do something you’ll regret.
He struggled to hold the vampire in check.
As if starved for her scent, he inhaled again and stifled a groan. His fangs lengthened. The drive to feed twisted in his gut.
Time had run out.
Harnessing the strength that his hunger provided, Kenric opened his eyes and reached for the woman. She swung her head around with a startled yelp. A wave of dark auburn hair fell over her shoulder.
Breathtaking.
Long, dark eyelashes framed hazel eyes specked with a hint of blue, green, and brown at the center. Her heart-shaped face held a small, upturned nose and rose-colored lips, the bottom one slightly fuller than the top. Kenric dragged his gaze away from her mouth. He needed to concentrate on holding her attention, not linger on the fantasy his mind and groin wanted to study in greater detail.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“I’m fine. Are you…okay?” Her gaze met his, giving him the opening he needed. Kenric slipped inside her mind to give her the mental nudge she’d need to accept his verbal commands.
“Don’t be afraid. I need you very calm and very quiet. You are safe. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” His voice resonated, maintaining his hold. “What’s your name, Wildflower?”
“Emily… Emily Ross.”
&nb
sp; “Emily, I need your help to get out of here. I want you to disconnect me from these monitors and tubes without bringing attention to us.”
She didn’t move. Instead, her mind pushed back, attempting to block his control.
“Now, Emily.” He pushed in return, harder this time. His body trembled from the effort to maintain his presence in her mind and the rhythmic beat of his heart, so that the heart rate monitor kept its orderly beat. Red hair suited this female. The color matched her spirit.
As if in slow motion, her body rebelling, Emily did as he’d instructed. Her compliance took every ounce of telepathic influence and skill left at his disposal.
Once completed, she returned to his side.
He caressed the right side of her face, the warmth of her skin a heated embrace on his cool palm. With the gentle persuasion of his hand, Kenric brought her gaze back to connect with his.
“Lean closer to me, Emily.”
Her eyelids narrowed, confusion written in her expression, but she lowered her head. Kenric pulled her in, positioning her neck near his lips, and brushed a stray curl away from her neck.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed against her skin. “If there was another way, I would take it. You see, you have something I’m in desperate need of.” He didn’t know why he felt the sudden, overwhelming desire to explain. He had to feed. And he would make sure she didn’t remember when he’d finished. But something inside him needed her to understand and to not be afraid. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I promise. I will be as gentle as possible.”
He savored another whiff of her sweet scent before tasting the area above her pounding pulse. She shivered, wringing a groan from his throat. He could wait no longer.
His fangs pierced her supple flesh. Tightening his hold, he held her immobile, not wanting to tear her skin. A moment later, Emily’s body relaxed. He loosened his grip and gently caressed her arms, soothing her as he drank.
Her blood spilled into his mouth, a flood of hot and sweet. It filled his starved body in a tidal wave of sensation and pooled in his groin. He’d never tasted anything as luscious as the woman in his arms. And he wanted more.
