by A. C. Mason
Cool air drifted into the room. A shadow was cast on the shower curtain from the other side.
“Go away, Rowley.”
No response came. The door closed. She peeked out to find Devin leaning on the counter, head hung low. His haunted, pear-green eyes framed by black lashes met her gaze, then drifted downward in pain.
“He’s upset, drunk, and I didn’t know what he’d say.” He grabbed a handful of his long dark bangs. “I managed to get him to agree to let me speak to you.”
She retreated under the water, lathered up a face cloth and scrubbed her skin, cleaning away their touch and scent. Images sparked in her thoughts. The heat of Devin’s trembling hands moving over her gently and the lust in his eyes. The flush in Rowley’s skin, and the elation in his smile. Raw grunts from them as they filled her one after another echoed in her mind. She was going to throw up again. She crouched.
“Are you okay?” The deep tone of his voice carried to her.
“No.” She rinsed off the soap. How could she be? Though she was sexually open, this was stretching her limits. Every second of the encounter sent her mind whirling into a tornado of confusion. Did she still feel anything for Vaihan? Why would a man who claimed to love her want her to screw another man in front of him? And why on earth would that man want her?
“Did I hurt you in any way? Make you feel uncomfortable?” His concern made his tone waver.
She flashed back to how he’d held her. Tenderly. She turned the water off and wrapped her towel around her. “I don’t think you hurt me.” She stepped out of the shower and strode to the door. Yet her body felt ripped to pieces.
Devin placed his hand on the wall, blocking her exit. “What does that mean?”
With her arms wrapped around her torso, she squeezed herself to hold her composure together.
“Leera?” He stepped closer, his towering frame hovering, and pressed his other hand to the wall behind her.
There was nowhere for her to go. She retreated against the towel rack. A well of tears pooled in her eyes.
“I need to know. My mind is going over every second we touched.” He looked at his palms then the backs of his hands.
Droplets streamed down from her eyes.
He cupped her face, slid a hand around her neck, while with his thumb he angled her head to meet his gaze. “Lui le cheile in eineacht le a cron sceimhiuil gan a bheith in ann ag an obair.”
“I don’t understand.” She met his piercing gaze.
“I said ‘making love with his dark beauty has left me in a state of wanting.’ If what you and I shared disgusted you, let me not find peace until I can repair the pain I’ve caused you.”
His words created an avalanche of tears, and she could not prevent her entire body from joining in her sobs.
“Don’t hold in what’s hurting. Let it out or it will eat you from the inside out.”
She slid down the wall.
He gathered her up and sat on the edge of the tub and rocked her in his lap, whispering in Gaelic to her. His tone was even and affectionate, comforting.
* * * *
The headline of the Washington Post read “Leera Waltz, Victim or Vixen?” A photo of Vaihan shielding his face as he entered his car was accompanied by a photo of her leaving the hospital with Rowley McKie.
Part of her wanted to slip into the role of the vixen the media was intent on casting her in. The other part didn’t want to lower herself to the lies they spread about her. None of them knew what kind of mess she was in. At this point, she was trying to survive the slippery slope she descended. She folded the newspaper and tossed it on the desk in front of her.
Sitting in the doctor’s office, legs crossed, she waited for him to join her. He’d refused to call in another refill without seeing her. The nurse’s sorrow-filled eyes as she’d taken her blood pressure and weighed her had made her hands shake with anger.
The door opened behind her. “Ms. Waltz.”
“Dr. Steinfeld.”
“Marty, please. Formalities give me hives.” He scratched his neck with the back of his pen.
She nodded. Vaihan trusted this man with her life, though for what reason, she hadn’t a clue. How did they know each other? Truth was, she didn’t know much about Vaihan’s world. Her involvement with him remained outside of his circles, which made sense, given that she was an assignment.
“How have you been feeling?” He leaned back in the wooden swivel chair.
“Aside from waking up soaked in sweat and the shakes that come and go, I’m still melancholy. The media whirlwind, losing my job and the pressure this has put on Peter hasn’t helped brighten my mood.” So, she was putting it mildly. She couldn’t always be a drama queen.
“Understandably.” As he spread his lips in a thin line, his unruly salt and pepper hair bobbed. He opened the file on his desk with her name on it. “You’re thirty-four?”
Wasn’t that in her file? “Yes.”
He sighed. “I hesitate bringing this up to you, Leera, but in good conscience, I’m unable to ignore the information.”
What the hell was he leading into? “Please, go on.”
“One of the side effects of your encounter with the toxin is that the abnormal growths on the exterior of your uterus and your fallopian tube have shrunk, reducing the deterioration of your uterus’s lining. I know you’ve yet to have a child. I have no idea if you are interested in having any children, but I believe controlled doses of the poison could reverse enough of the damage so that you may have a chance of conceiving and carrying a child of your own. I can’t promise, as we’d need to monitor the effects as we go.”
“Show me.”
Marty tapped on the keyboard then turned the monitor toward her. On it were two side by side images of her uterus. One was from an ultrasound taken last year, and the other, after the incident with Vaihan–or with the toxin, as he called it. The edge of the irregular growths marked with a yellow highlight had shrunk in half.
This couldn’t be real. “What’s the catch?”
“You’d be feeding the drug into your system directly.” He frowned.
“I’d become an addict.” Wonderful. Of course, this would come at a high price, but what didn’t in her life?
“Essentially, yes. I suggest if you decide to move ahead with this, that you conceive immediately, as I have no way of knowing how long the changes will last. You’d also be kicking the habit while pregnant. One last thing, each zombie’s toxin has unique properties to that individual undead and where the secretion came from, meaning there is only one source for the blend that’s resulted in the change.”
Could her situation get any more complicated? “Vaihan’s semen.” Just wonderful. How on earth was she going to talk him into helping her?
“Precisely.” He scribbled on a prescription pad. “You have a lot to think about.”
Not really. She had always wanted children. It had been one of the few things that never changed in her mind. One child was better than none. “When can we get started?”
“If you can get the toxin, within a few days. Two donations spread at least forty-eight hours apart. I’ll figure out the doses of the injections to go directly into your uterus.”
Vanishing this close to Christmas would be nearly impossible. She had to plan the injections as soon as possible. First, she had to work on convincing Vaihan to donate the toxin. And figure out who would father her child.
Rowley. The responsibility of another life might calm his inner turmoil, but did she want to take that chance?
Or Devin. There was a winning plan to get the man killed.
Vaihan’s fluid was toxic, so he probably wasn’t able to assist either. “How is he?”
“Who?” He narrowed his eyes.
She frowned, rolling her eyes.
“Oh. You should ask him when you see him.”
That part could not be avoided, if he was going to donate his fluid. She nodded, picked up the prescription he’d set down in front of her
and exited the office.
* * * *
Leera placed the bags into the passenger seat next to her, unwrapped the scarf from her head and removed the large sunglasses. Relief washed through her. She’d managed to get a gift for everyone, including Vaihan, if he’d ever accept one from her.
Devin’s boat of a vehicle wasn’t the easiest to maneuver, but he’d been kind enough to loan it to her to run out for errands so she wouldn’t be accosted by the press.
A gloved hand covered her mouth, and she squealed.
In the rearview mirror she saw Barton in the back seat. The fucking asshole! She’d nearly had a heart attack.
He ducked in close to her ear. “Miss me?” Heat laced his tone. He slid his hand away.
“Can’t say I did.” The man was deranged. That was the only thing that explained his behavior.
“Are you armed or wearing a wire?” He shoved his hand into her jacket, searching supposedly, the mounds of her breasts.
“What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t own a gun. You have me under surveillance, wouldn’t you know if I was armed?” She pushed his hand.
He wouldn’t budge. “I do. I just enjoy feeling you up.”
Biting him would get him away from her, but she wasn’t sure if she’d catch something from it. “What do you want?”
“I’m wondering how you are going to fix things with Vaihan.” He leaned back. “Rowley’s only one part of your assignment.”
“I’m working on how to get back in Vaihan’s good book, but it’s going to take time.” Which she didn’t have. Part of her was stalling, maybe giving him time to deal with what she’d done to him.
“The one thing you don’t have. Word on the street is that Rowley’s is smuggling in items to put a bomb together in the capital. Have you forgotten the restaurant incident?”
Did Barton think Rowley was responsible for killing all those people?
“You need to keep your eyes and ears open and call me if you hear anything related to pickups and drop-offs. It would be sad if your newborn niece, Bethany, lost her father so soon.”
Cold terror gripped her. “I’m doing the best I can. Rowley has rites of passage, and I’m doing everything he’s asked of me, and still he hides stuff from me.”
“Maybe you need to put on the waterworks to speed things along. And no more fucking stunts with Vaihan, or I’ll put you out of your misery myself. Trust me when I say it will be far less painful on us both.”
Maybe that was a way out of this life. An option to consider, if she managed to ensure Peter didn’t go to jail. As long as she could keep Vaihan out of trouble.
Chapter 34
Vaihan hesitated to open the back door. Leera’s fragrance wafted in from the other side, and it carried two distinct males’ musk. One was McKie, the other he did not recognize. Pain collected in his throat, as he met her eyes. Every muscle in his body tensed. Jealousy, anger, hurt, betrayal. All jumbled up. He took a deep breath and released the emotions.
“May I come in a moment?” Leera asked. Dark liner sharpened her black eyes. The hood of her beige coat framed a thinning face. Less than two weeks had passed since he’d seen her lying on the bed at the hospital, weak, scared. He’d left her there, vulnerable, to be plucked by a volatile man. And Rowley hadn’t wasted his chance.
He stepped back. “My room will give us privacy. It’s the door at top of the stairs.”
She removed her boots on the mat and climbed the steps. With a push, he slammed the door shut. Hurt lingered inside him. Not two weeks, and she was screwing two other men.
The wood treads creaking beneath each footstep as they ascended the stairs were the only distraction between them. Once at the top, standing behind her, he reached around her. The cool breeze of her body danced over him. He opened the door for her to enter. With hesitant footsteps, she advanced into his room, stopped and turned toward him. He closed the door.
“You look well.” She lowered her hood and removed her gloves with a nervous smile.
In some ways, compared to her, his life was a picnic. “As always, you’re beautiful. You’re color is recovering. Has your appetite returned?” Nothing could be more hurtful than small talk.
She stuffed the gloves in her pocket and sat on the end of his bed. “I struggle to keep food down.” She crossed her long smooth legs.
Hunger stirred inside him, moving lower. “I hope that settles soon.” This couldn’t be happening to him. With any woman other than her, arousal was impossible. Being near her filled his cock with need.
“Thank you.” She smiled.
“Does McKie know you are here?” Why he’d bothered to ask when he was sure of the answer, he didn’t know. That was a lie. He wanted to know that coming to him meant more than closure, if that’s what this was.
She shook her head.
“You are together now, aren’t you?” He leaned his shoulder against the wall.
“Yes.” Looping the buttons, she opened her jacket.
So what was she doing there? What could they possibly have to talk about? Not even McKie got the whole truth from her. Was she capable of giving the person in her life complete honesty?
“Let me get to the purpose of my visit, so you may send me on my way.”
Even with the length of his life, he could not think of a single thing to help him ease the damage that his words at the hospital had caused her. But she hadn’t left him much choice.
“You have no reason to say yes to my request. Frankly, you have every reason to say no. Marty has discovered a positive side effect to our encounter.” She smoothed back her curls, exposing her neck.
“Go on.” Hard to believe anything good came from that night.
“Your toxin reduced the size of the abnormal growths on my uterus. He believes, in small doses, it could shrink the deterioration and provide me a chance to have a child.”
She stared up at him, her teary eyes filled with hope, as though he held the possibilities of joy in his hands.
If he couldn’t get aroused when he wasn’t with her, how could he provide her his ejaculate? There was no way out of the conversation without laying out the barrier. Or was there? “So, if I understand your request, you want me to provide you my semen to heal your uterus’s abnormalities, so that you may conceive a child with another man.” Pain would be one thing, but this was agony. The woman had just carved out his heart.
“Yes.” She met his gaze.
At least she gave him the truth on this. “You want something only I can provide, otherwise you would have explored other options. I’m inclined to give it to you if you...” She didn’t need to know it was the only way he could give it to her.
“If I what?” Pain reflected in her eyes.
“If you are in the room when I give my donation.” The memory of the feel of her soft skin on his lips caused his mouth to tingle.
“You want me in the room while you get off to provide the donation.”
“Yes.” His erection twitched at her words. “How badly do you want this, Leera?” As soon as she left, so would the hunger in his body.
“Why?” She wrapped her arms around her torso.
“Look, it’s my demand. Take or leave it.”
“If that’s what you want, then that is what I will do.”
“Good. We have an agreement, then.” Soon he wouldn’t be able to provide her what she needed.
“Marty asked that we go to the base laboratory and said you’d know where he meant.”
“I do. The trip there and back is a few hours.” How was she going to pass that one over on the new man–men–in her life? “When would we get started?”
“I was hoping we could start after New Year’s.”
“I see.” That pushed his timeframe forward. He risked that he might not be transformed by the date of the Ball for Undead Rights, where he wanted to reveal to the world that he was human again after the president signed off on the Bill.
“That’s not a good time for you?”<
br />
“Sooner would be better. I’m going to be out at my cabin for a while.” Unsure of the changes he’d go through, he didn’t want to leave himself vulnerable and would isolate himself.
“I’ll need to get back to you about timing. Rowley doesn’t enjoy me being places where he can’t keep an eye on me.”
“Don’t wait too long, as I intend to stick to my schedule.” To get his change started with any hope of resolving the distance between them, he couldn’t delay too much longer.
Chapter 35
Leera snuggled into Devin in the front seat, arms around his torso for warmth. She could listen to his Irish accent all night, and his stories of growing up in Ireland. The mix of his tone and words took hold of her. What was developing between them, she couldn’t be sure. However, she did know she enjoyed being with him. Despite the guns in the shoulder holsters on each side, she felt safe.
He pulled her to him. “Tired?” He adjusted the cover he’d wrapped her in and rested his hand on her shoulder.
Heat rushed inside her. “A little.” A lot was more accurate, but what did it matter?
Across the street, another zombie exited the rear of the rundown Victorian home. No interfering tonight, just outside backup, as girls were being pulled out and loaded into the van behind Devin’s car. Rowley didn’t let her venture too far without checking in on her. If she wanted to go somewhere, Devin or he offered to accompany her.
“You’re pissed at Rowley because of the lecture he gave you?” The lightest green eyes she’d ever seen lured her in. Since the other night, she struggled to meet his piercing gaze. If he’d left her alone, she wouldn’t have fallen to pieces.
She was angry, but not about the lecture. More, in her inability to do anything on her own. “I’m pissed because I don’t know what role Rowley wants me to play in his world.” Was she a playmate for him and his buddies? How many other of his coconspirators would she need to fuck?
“Give him time. He is also trying to figure that out, and since he doesn’t trust easy, he won’t decide overnight.” He squeezed her to his hard chest.
