Melinda met them in the dining room, her expression one of motherly concern. When she saw Ria’s neck, her eyes flickered with surprise. “Follow me.”
The trio made their way through the unoccupied kitchen, crossed a huge laundry room that contained several sets of washers and dryers, a large folding table and countless cabinets, and then into a half bath.
“Everyone’s out back and until I saw you, I wasn’t sure what I needed.” Melinda pulled out a medical kit and several white towels from the cabinet under the sink. “Sit.”
At that authoritative feminine tone, Ria sat on the closed toilet. The room was too small too accommodate the three of them, so Santos remained in the doorway, his watchful eyes glued to Ria as his mother carefully poked and prodded at Ria’s wound. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Ria remained submissive under her ministrations. “No.”
“Is this all your blood?”
“Mostly.” Too late she remembered she’d told Santos she’d kneed her attacker and then bolted. She never said anything about making the man bleed. Dropping her gaze, she stared at the tiled floor. “I, ah, caught him a bit with the knife in the struggle to get away.” Just because it didn’t happen that way doesn’t mean it couldn’t have happened that way.
“I hope he bleeds to death.” Melinda’s lips twisted in a nasty snarl as she straightened and dampened one of the towels from the sink. “Men who attack women are nothing but cowards, and they piss me off.”
Ria blinked. She’d never seen anything other than welcoming smiles or quiet authority from this woman, and for some reason the furious outburst on her behalf made Ria’s chest ache.
“She lost a lot of blood.” Santos murmured from the door.
Ria tensed at his comment, remaining frozen as capable hands gently cleaned off her neck. “You heard her. It’s not all hers. Besides, blood wounds usually look worse than what they are.” Melinda unzipped the jacket and pushed it aside, only to come to a sudden halt. Her gaze shot to Ria’s “This is one of them.”
Because she was hidden from Santos by Melinda’s body, Ria allowed the shudder of relief to move through her. They both knew what coated Ria was more than a little blood.
“You sure, Mom?”
Covering Ria with the jacket once again, Melinda arched a brow at her eldest son and opened a bottle, dabbing the contents on a gauze pad. “I worked as a nurse in the ER,” her voice was steel as she cleaned the wound. “I’m also a mother of four rambunctious males who have given me more than enough experience to gauge the severity of a wound. This isn’t nearly as bad as it looks.”
It was a promise to Ria and a lie to Santos. The knife had cut a major vein, spewing copious amounts of precious blood. If she’d been fully human and not received medical attention immediately, she would be dead.
Then again, if she’d been fully human, she might not have gotten away in the first place.
Reaching for a large band aid, Melinda tossed over her shoulder, “There’s a robe in the dryer. Get it for me, please.” It took several moments, but the second Santos turned from the room, Melinda crouched down and covered the fist Ria had on her thigh. Hazel eyes, all too shrewd, looked her over.
“You’re not hurt elsewhere?” At Ria’s silent negative, Melinda added in the same nearly soundless tone, “Keep the jacket closed, otherwise Santos will blow a gasket.”
Face averted, Ria nodded, and gave a little start when soft fingers tilted her chin up to look into a face full of compassion. “He’s a good man. Seeing you hurt eats at his core. Nothing more, nothing less.” Her head cocked as if something just occurred to her. “Maybe more in this instance. Do you understand?”
Ria only had time to let her confusion show before Santos was back, a bundle of dark blue in his grasp. “Got it.”
Melinda straightened, ripping the packet in her hand open and deftly setting the band aid in place. “Put on the robe,” she told Ria, “and leave all your clothes here. I’ll take care of them.”
When Santos didn’t move, Melinda put a hand on his chest and pushed. “Let the girl change in peace. After we get some orange juice and a few cookies in her, she’ll need to take it easy, but she’ll be fine.”
His eyes skated from Ria to his mom. “You said it wasn’t bad.”
Melinda let out an exasperated sigh. “Quit hovering. Women lose more blood then this every month.”
Ria nearly choked at the look on his face, but it did the trick. Though still clearly reluctant, Santos edged back and Melinda shut the door behind them.
Rising from the toilet, Ria quickly stripped, wincing as each layer – t-shirt, tank top and bra – pulled at the dried blood on her torso. Her pants and underwear were also toast. Naked, she wet another towel with warm water and made short work cleaning the remaining blood from her body. Then she slipped into the borrowed robe and belted it before looking at her reflection.
Though she was a little pale, the woman who stared back at her looked the same. Other than the new and simple bandaid, nothing of her ordeal showed on the outside. Her heart had returned to normal, her breathing regular.
It was a high probability Melinda knew Ria’s secret, and, considering Ria had always thought shifters and vampires enemies, hadn’t run screaming for pitchforks and wooden stakes. No. The woman had tended to Ria’s hurts, showed deep concern and anger at her ordeal, and then lied to her eldest son.
Ria nibbled on her bottom lip, pondering that, and the very real possibility that these people just might be her salvation.
But first she had to summon the nerve to ask for help.
Chapter Eleven
Leaving her clothes on the bathroom floor as ordered, Ria carried only her purse and hiking boots as she crossed the laundry room. Hushed whispers reached her ears. She caught the words “Rome”, “masking scent” and “hiding” and it made her pause. Silently she made her way to the edge of the doorway, all the better to eavesdrop.
“Hiding what she is? What on earth are you talking about?”
Footsteps of someone pacing caused her to squeeze further back behind the shallow door-frame, straining to hear the bits and pieces of conversation.
“We don’t know if she’s human, Mom.”
Ria’s heart sputtered to a stop.
The sound of pouring liquid. “So?” A calm dismissal as Melinda let a perfect opportunity to reveal her suspicions skate on by. Ria sagged in relief.
“So? So why is she hiding what she is?”
“Everyone deserves some measure of privacy, Santos, or do you run around telling the world you’re a jaguar shifter?”
Ria closed her eyes and eased her head against the wall at her back. Jaguar. Yes that fit. A beautiful and deadly predator. Swift, silent, lethal. She bet he was gorgeous in his feline form and felt a pang of sorrow that she would never see him thus.
“That’s not what I mean. Besides, she smells different now then she did yesterday.”
Affronted, Ria sniffed at herself. Frowned.
“Fear, adrenaline changes...”
“No.” His sharp retort was so low Ria nearly fell over straining to hear. “It’s deeper.”
“Deeper?”
“Blood deeper.”
A soft clunk as a plate landed on the kitchen table with a little more force then necessary. “Quit stalling and spit it out.”
A pause followed by the sound of a scraping chair over the hard floor. “She might be a vamp.”
Ria slammed a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp of alarm. Mentally all she could think was, shit, shit, shit.
“And that bothers you for some reason?”
A rustle of material. “No. What bothers me is that she feels the need to hide. I understand taking precautions, but masking one’s scent? That’s above and beyond.”
Not when trying to stay out of your demented family’s radar, Ria thought, fighting off a giggle that bordered on hysteria.
“Darling, you haven’t even known her for two full days.”
“More than that,” came his growled reply.
Melinda sighed. “Whatever. Trust takes time and,” she stressed the last word, “if you’re right and she’s aware of what you boys are, then her wariness is natural. The first thing I did after your father told me what he was, and that I was his mate, was run.”
A moment of quiet filled the room. “Funny you should say that.”
“Why?”
“Underneath all those false scents, she was. That is. What the hell are you grinning at me for?”
Ria never found out why Melinda was smiling because the kitchen door burst open at that moment and Rome’s voice boomed in the room. “We’re dying of thirst out there, Mom. What’s the holdup?” A pause. “Why do I smell blood?”
Ria jumped at the sudden intrusion and skittered from the doorway, but the linoleum in the laundry room was too slick for her quickly moving stockinged feet and she slid, her boots soaring from her hands as she tried to steady herself, only to land with a series of thuds several feet away. Through luck, and a bout of additional sock sliding, she was across the room, bending to pick up one of the flyaway boots just as two large males poked their heads in the room. With a wan smile, she snagged the other one.
“You okay?” Santos came to her side, taking her shoes from her.
“Yeah, just a klutz.”
Santos looked her over. Apparently finding nothing suspicious, he settled his hand on her back, guided her past a frowning Rome and into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” Rome asked as his brother pulled out a chair at the large wood table for Ria to sit in.
“Some asshole attacked Ria at the airport.”
“What?!”
Melinda pushed a plate of cookies toward Ria. “She’s fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.”
Santos remained standing at Ria’s back, one hand on her right shoulder.
Bodyguard or warden?
Not entirely comfortable, especially under Rome’s intense gaze, Ria snagged a cookie and nibbled.
“What happened?” When Ria didn’t answer right away, Santos did.
A sense of electricity filled the air and Rome gnashed his teeth. “I hope his balls are tangled in his throat.”
Ria choked on the cookie at Rome’s bloodthirsty response and reached for the glass of orange juice next to the plate. Santos moved his hand to rub her back.
“What did he look like? Did he say anything to you? What was he wearing? Any distinguishing marks, tattoos? We need to contact the police, see if the airport had any cameras out there. I need a pen and paper.”
A low throaty growl came from behind her, and she stiffened. The hand at her shoulder moved to her front and spread wide over the top of her chest. She stopped breathing. “Don’t,” Santos all but snarled.
Rome’s series of rapid questions ground to a halt, as did his pacing, and he narrowed his eyes at his older brother.
“Quit it, both of you, or I’ll get the hose.” It was Melinda who spoke up from the chair at Ria’s right, her tone pure steel. “Rome, Ria is not a suspect and Santos, cool your thrusters before I cool them off for you.”
The change in the room wasn’t immediate, but the energy level did ebb until Rome’s face softened with amusement. He turned to his mom. “You couldn’t catch us then, what makes you think you can catch us now?”
“Because I’ll have Gwen to help.” Sparks of laughter glittered in Melinda’s eyes.
“That’s just mean.” Rome shook his head and when he turned back to Ria, there was an apology on his face. “Sorry. Bad habit.”
Santos’s hand stroked through Ria’s hair. “Idiot still thinks he’s a cop.”
“A cop?” Ria’s eyes flew wide. A shifter cop?
“I was in the ATF for several years. Military before. It’s habit to take charge of a situation.”
A dominate trait, one that was reflected in the man behind her. Ria knew that, in their own way, each Felix male she’d met had a strong alpha streak. The hand Santos still had on her chest had her worried. Protective or possessive. Either way, it was unnerving. Not to mention what it was doing to her body. Then there was his other hand, which continued to thread through her hair.
There was no way he could miss the rapid beat of her heart, the way her skin was heating beneath his touch. Too much more of this and the desire forming low in long, liquid pulls would make itself known in lower, more intimate places.
Shifting uncomfortably, she crossed her arms over her middle. Bad move. It pulled the robe down slightly, and Santos’s hand settled more firmly on bare skin. She inhaled sharply through her nose, having locked her teeth together to keep the gasp of pleasure of escaping.
What was wrong with her? A simple touch, a simple kiss, and she was on fire. It had to be the blood high that was making her more sensitive. Nothing else made sense.
The kitchen door opened again and Gwen stepped inside. “What’s with the football game?” She asked when she saw everyone at the table. Then her eyes landed on Ria. “What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”
Rome reached for Gwen’s hand. “Some asshole attacked Ria at the airport.”
“What? Oh my God!”
Before anything else was said, the door opened again. Wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and disappear, Ria closed her eyes and dropped her head back, only to have it smack on the hard male chest at her back.
“Hey,” Lance asked in the quiet and Ria’s opened her eyes to see him looking around the room before locking on her. His gaze moved unerringly to the bandage at her neck. “Cut yourself shaving?”
The question had everyone talking at once and the beginnings of a headache pinging between Ria’s eyes. She squeezed them shut. She wasn’t used to all this chaos, these interruptions. She was an archeologist for goodness sake. Sure there were moments of excitement, disappointment and even arguments, such as she’d had earlier with Chris. Even the occasional flight or fight scenario, but nothing like what the last couple of days had wrought.
She felt a hand on her knee and her eyes flew open to see Lance crouched at her side. “Who knew you were going to the airport?”
It was such an odd question that it took Ria a moment to realize that a low rumbling was coming from behind her, and that everyone else in the room had quieted to a sort of guarded attention. Three sets of eyes flicked between Lance and Santos with sudden stillness. The fingers on her chest flexed and she automatically brought her hand up to cover it. “Easy.”
Lance looked up at Santos, his lips pursing at whatever he saw. Though he had a tough core, he wasn’t nearly as strong as Santos, and he slowly removed his hand from her leg and straightened. “As my friend,” the word was stressed, “I’m concerned about her.”
Ria’s squinted up at her co-worker. Did Lance know what Santos was? What Rome was? By the careful way he edged back from Ria, she had a feeling he did.
Oh, but were they going to have a talk later on.
The rumbling at her back didn’t ease, and so to break the tension in the room – God she was so tired of these emotional upheavals – she answered Lance’s question. “Just you, Robby and Chris of course. Oh and that girl from the kitchen yesterday. Uhm. Sarah.”
All eyes now turned to her and she squirmed. “I grabbed some snacks before I headed out and she was in the dining room.”
Rome and Gwen shared a look before he asked Ria, “Do you recall anything odd the man at the airport said to you?”
Ria’s chin dropped. “Odd? Odd as in he was going to cut my throat if I screamed? I’d say that’s pretty odd.” Her voice had risen at the end.
“Easy, kitten.” Santos stroked his fingers through her hair again, petting her, calming her.
How very feline.
She turned her head to the side, muttering, “Yesterday I was a bunny,” because yeah, she’d looked up the word he’d called her on the internet, “and today I’m a kitten?”
His chuckle was low and did strange things to
her libido. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear. “That was before I knew you had claws and weren’t afraid to use them.”
He sounded almost...proud. Drawing in a fortifying breath, she turned to Rome. “The guy was maybe five-ten, no more than six feet. Brown hair and eyes. Plain. Almost forgettable. No distinguishing marks or tattoos that I saw.” She sucked in more air. “He did mention that someone wanted to talk to me.” She didn’t add that the man also intended to rape her, as she had a feeling that would send the males in the room over the edge.
She also didn’t say that she had thought the man had meant her father was the individual who wanted to talk to her. Though she couldn’t understand why her family would send a human. She might only be half-vamp, but she was still stronger than a human male. Even with a weapon.
Her lips tightened when the others in the room all looked at each other, glances that were full of meaning. Even Lance knew what those silent messages were saying, and it irritated her.
That talk was definitely going to happen, and soon.
“The Palick sisters left this morning as did the Marsh family. The rest, other than Lance and Ria here, will be leaving tomorrow.” Melinda finally spoke.
“And no one else until Thursday.” Rome added thoughtfully.
Melinda sighed. “I’d hate to cancel, but I will if you think it necessary.”
Rome frowned. “Security’s pretty tight here. As long as no one leaves on their own, I think we’re okay.” He set his eyes on Santos. “We’ll do patrols to make sure.”
“What?” Ria asked. Not only did it seem to be the word of the day, she hated being in the dark. “What’s going on?”
Santos settled both hands on her shoulders. “We’ve had some...trouble in the past.”
Ria waved that away. “Yes, I know. Treasure hunters with guns chasing down Rome and Gwen. What does that have to do with me? Oh.” She paused, frowned. “If anyone knows we’re doing active digging, then we’ve become targets. Great.”
The hands on her shoulders tightened. “No one will get to you again, Ria. I promise.”
Drawing Deep Page 9
