Dante’s Salvation

by Anna Leigh Keaton

  He dragged her across the wide, open space to a single, metal folding chair. “Sit.” He didn’t give her time to comply, simply shoved her into the seat. He reached for a pile of nylon rope next to the chair, releasing her arm, and she bolted toward the opening.

  Before she reached the gap between piles, he was there in front of her. She screamed and tripped, landing at his feet in a heap. Before she could scramble away, he grabbed her hair and pulled her up.

  “This is your last warning, little girl.”

  Tears streamed from her eyes as pain throbbed through her skull from his tight fist in her hair. Last warning? He’d already said he was going to rape her and drain her blood. What else could be worse?

  She grabbed his hand in her hair and tried to pull away, uncaring if all her hair ripped out. What did a bald head matter if she lived?

  He threw her back into the chair and grabbed the rope.

  She screamed in fury and kicked at him as he wound the heavy, nylon cord around her, anchoring her in place.

  “I do love a feisty woman,” he murmured in her ear. “Keep fighting, little girl. Get all hot and sweaty for me.” He licked her neck, and she cried out, jerking to the side, nearly toppling the chair.

  “Let me go you fucking psycho!”

  He laughed the evil chuckle right in her ear. “Not until your lover gets here. Then he’ll watch this psycho fuck your brains out right before I kill him.”

  —

  Dante pulled the Vette up next to Evan’s car in front of the Billings warehouse and killed the rumbling engine. When he opened his door, the sounds of the docks greeted him. Water lapped at the cargo ship’s hull, seagulls cried, and the buoy bells clanked. He headed for the door. The offices were on the second floor inside the warehouse. He’d been there once years ago to visit a friend.

  A scent hit him as he reached for the doorknob. Wendy. The scent of lilacs and her unique musk. His gut clenched, and he eased the pistol from its holster at his side.

  He turned the doorknob carefully, avoiding all sound, and slowly eased the door open. The illumination from overhead was dim, but plenty for him to navigate.

  “Let me go you fucking psycho!”

  Dante’s blood ran cold, and he stilled at Wendy’s shouted words.

  “Not until your lover gets here. Then he’ll watch this psycho fuck your brains out right before I kill him.”

  Evan.

  Fuck.

  Dante’s heart sped. He hadn’t seen this coming. How had Evan slipped past everyone’s radar? He flexed his fingers around the handle of his handgun. He didn’t know enough about Evan to walk into battle alone. How old was he? How experienced? He’d killed six men who were well trained. What chance did Dante have alone against him?

  He turned to move back out into the night so he could call Digger.

  “I smell you, Dante. I know you’re here. Come see what I have.”

  Evan’s voice was taunting, echoing through the warehouse as if it came from every direction.

  “He’s going to kill you! Get out,” Wendy cried. The panic in her tone tore at his soul. If he didn’t kill Evan, the vampire would kill her.

  “It’s okay, my love,” he said, keeping his voice even. “I’m here now, and everything will be fine.” In one leap, he gained the top of the nearest stack of paper products. The plastic sheeting crinkled under his weight, and he silently cursed.

  Evan laughed. “Everything will be fine. Come out and face me. Let’s get on with this. You’re not the only vampire I plan to kill tonight.”

  Dante made his way toward Evan’s voice, hopping from one pallet to the next until he could see down into the opening in the middle of the warehouse where his Wendy was tied to a chair with Evan standing behind her.

  Evan looked up and grinned, his fangs showing. “Welcome, Dante. Won’t you join me?”

  Dante lifted the handgun and fired. Wendy screamed. Evan barely staggered at the impact, and then he let out a maniacal laugh and ripped open his shirt to display a flack jacket.

  “Wooden bullets don’t penetrate Kevlar, moron.”

  Fuck.

  He glanced at Wendy to see tears streaming down her face. Her flesh was pale, and terror radiated off her. He could smell it. Hell, he could feel it.

  Evan crouched for an instant, and when he stood, he held a sword similar to the one strapped at Dante’s side.

  He could shoot Evan in the face, but unless he was close enough to take off the vampire’s head within seconds, he’d do nothing but waste a bullet. Evan was obviously well fed and in fine form. His healing powers would be up to par. Unless the wooden bullet penetrated the vampire’s heart, it wouldn’t do much harm.

  Evan sauntered into the center of the open area and held out his arms, the sword dangling from the fingers of his right hand. “Come on down here, vampire, and fight me. I’ve heard such tales of your ability, I’ve been beside myself with excitement at the thought of one-on-one, hand-to-hand combat with you.”

  Dante had no choice. The gun was useless, and he had no way to call for backup. It was kill or be killed, and Wendy’s life was on the line.

  He stepped off the pallet and landed softly on the concrete floor.

  Wendy gasped, but he couldn’t spare her a glance.

  “Arm yourself,” Evan said as he slowly circled Dante.

  Dante holstered his weapon then shrugged out of his coat.

  “Dante,” she said, her voice so soft she wouldn’t have been heard by a human ear.

  “Dante, Dante,” Evan mimicked then laughed. “She’s a tasty piece of ass, I’ll grant you that. But is she worth it? I was so tempted to show her what we are when we were alone yesterday, but then I thought of this.” His grin was feral, that of an insane person. “She’ll be a tasty dessert to the feast of your killing.”

  Dante shrugged out of his holster and tossed both it and the trench coat to the edge of the open space. Then he pulled his sword from its scabbard. The satisfying ring sent his heart into a heavy beat. He hadn’t battled in years. He and Digger only sparred once in a while in the backyard.

  “Dante...don’t.”

  He ignored Wendy’s plea. He stared into Evan’s fevered eyes as the two of them circled each other. Evan was a bit smaller than him, but that meant nothing when dealing with vampires.

  Evan raised his left hand and waggled his fingers in a come-hither motion, taunting him. “Don’t be a pussy like Xavier. He cried like a baby when I ran that stake through his chest. Come get me.”

  The taunts did nothing to him. He kept moving, ready for Evan’s first move, watching his every action. The way he held his sword, the way his feet moved, how he held his shoulders in a rigid pose.

  Evan launched himself at Dante with a bloodcurdling battle cry.

  Dante raised his sword and blocked the blow, halting the bone-jarring strike just inches from his neck.

  Wendy screamed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The ring of metal was deafening. Wendy stared in shock as the man she loved and the man who planned to kill her fought with swords like some present-day knights. Dark against light. Only this time, the darkness was not evil. Dante blocked swing after swing as Evan went at him like a madman, swiping his shiny sword through the air with a speed that made the blade blur.

  Muscles bunched under Dante’s black T-shirt with each movement. The most terrifying part was that Evan gained ground, backing Dante across the space until he had less than a foot of space between him and a hulking stack of something covered in opaque plastic.

  She twisted her arms, trying to pull them free, but the ropes were too tight. Her hands had lost all feeling, and the nylon cut into her stomach with each wiggle of her body. She whimpered and swiped her face on her shoulder, wiping away tears that blurred her vision. If Dante didn’t win, she was dead. If Dante didn’t win, he was dead.

  A roar came out of Dante, making her jerk her head up.

  “No!” she screamed and struggled against her b
onds all the harder.

  His shirt had been sliced near his ribs. Blood poured out onto the concrete floor. He kept blocking blows, though. Sweat bloomed on his forehead. He swung and swung and swung.

  Another swing sliced Dante’s right bicep. His lips curled back in a snarl as he slashed his sword at Evan. To Wendy’s horror, he had teeth just like Evan’s. Long, pointy eye teeth.

  “No...” The word came out as a strangled whisper. Vampire. Evan had said the word several times. But vampires didn’t exist. They weren’t real. They were in the movies and books, not in real life. Not in her simple, quiet, dull life.

  Evan dropped to one knee and shoved the sword upward, impaling Dante through the stomach.

  A gunshot rang out.

  Blood exploded from the back of Evan’s head.

  Digger appeared out of thin air and swung another sword.

  Evan’s head flew into the air and landed with a sickening thud on the concrete.

  The scream lodged in her throat. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

  Dante dropped to his knees, wrapped his hands around the hilt of the sword sticking from his stomach, and jerked it out with a groan before toppling to his side.

  Jesse came running into the opening from the narrow pathway Evan had dragged her down. He carried a gun in his hand that looked like the one Dante had earlier. Digger and Jesse went to their knees at Dante’s side.

  “Talk to me, mate,” Digger said as he rolled Dante onto his back.

  Dante groaned and held his hands pressed against his bleeding stomach.

  “Get the girl,” he said, and Jesse got to his feet and rushed toward her.

  The breath whooshed out of her when he pulled a folding knife from his pocket and cut the ropes.

  “Don’t hurt me,” she whimpered when he grabbed her arm. “Please.” She glanced at Evan’s body. The blood pooled where his head should be. Her stomach clenched, and she heaved.

  “Dante needs you now,” Jesse said, his tone gentle as he pulled her along.

  She shook her head and tried to jerk free, but she hurt. And her legs wouldn’t work right. Her entire body shook, and her vision seemed to narrow to points.

  “He ain’t gonna hurt ya, Wendy,” Digger said as he got to his feet. “Dante will die, though, if ya donna give him some of yer blood.”

  She slapped her hand over her mouth as her stomach heaved again. She looked back and forth between Jesse and Digger, then down at Dante where he lay on the cold, gray floor surrounded by his own blood.

  “Don’t make me force ya, luv,” Digger said, his tone soft but his gaze hard.

  She tried to back away, but Digger caught her arm. With the return of blood flow to her limbs, it was as if someone shoved hot pokers under her fingernails, and she cried out.

  “Stop it,” Dante said, his voice raspy. “Let her go.”

  Digger knelt next to Dante, still holding her so she had no choice but to go down, too.

  Dante’s skin was pale, his forehead and upper lip beaded with perspiration.

  Digger shifted his grip to her wrist, and she whimpered at the excruciating pain. The same arm Evan had held and harmed. Digger glanced down at her hand, and she followed his gaze to see dark purple bruises in the shape of fingers. Digger let go.

  “Sorry, luv,” he murmured. “I know this is hard for ya to grasp, but Dante and I are vampires. If he doesna get human blood right now, he’s gonna die.”

  She turned and looked at Jesse. He shook his head and lifted his upper lip to show her normal teeth. “I’m human.”

  Her stomach churned, and tears blurred her vision.

  Digger took her other hand in his and hauled it up to Dante’s mouth.

  “No,” she screamed and jerked away. She fell back on her butt, slipping in the pool of blood from Evan’s body. She screamed again as all the horrors of the night swam in her head. Dante was a monster. A creature. She sobbed and scrambled backward, her hands slick with blood from the floor. She screamed again when Digger came at her with a look of murder in his eyes.

  Dante fought to stay conscious. Wendy’s terror-filled screams ripped his heart and soul into shreds. “Let her go,” he forced out. “Dear God, let her go.”

  “You have ta feed.”

  Dante rolled his head back and forth. Licked his parched lips.

  Digger and Wendy appeared next to him again. When he looked up into her face, her eyes were glazed. Digger had mesmerized her.

  “No. I won’t take her blood,” he rasped out. “I swore...” He swallowed. “I swore I’d never take it without her...consent.”

  “Now isna the time to be noble,” Digger barked. He raised Wendy’s wrist to his mouth, and he knew Digger was going to puncture her vein to feed him.

  “I’d rather die than betray her,” Dante said, forcing his voice to be stronger. “Don’t bite her.”

  Jesse thrust his arm out. “Take mine.”

  Digger sliced into Jesse’s wrist with his fang, and then Jesse held it to Dante’s mouth.

  The hot tang closed his throat, but he forced himself to swallow. He didn’t want to die. He had to survive to make this up to Wendy. As the warm flow of coppery fluid slid down his throat, he felt his wounds begin to knit. He swallowed and swallowed, his stomach rebelling with each drop, until Jesse’s arm moved away.

  “Enough,” Digger said.

  He opened his eyes to see Digger and Jesse looking down at him. Wendy stared with the blank eyes of a trance. His stomach curled with nausea from Jesse’s blood. He prayed he wouldn’t vomit.

  “How do ya feel?”

  “Better.” He groaned as he tried to sit up. He still hurt like a bitch. He needed another feeding. “Why’d you decide to come here?”

  Digger wrapped his arm around Dante’s waist and helped him to his feet. “Gaston called ’bout five minutes after ya dropped me. He said he dinna give Evan those instructions. I knew somethin’ was up.”

  “Thanks for saving my ass.”

  “Jesse’s a damn fine shot.” Digger winked at his lover who held Wendy up.

  “Did you erase her memories?” Dante asked.

  Digger shook his head. “Just the worst of it. What do ya wanna do with her?”

  He wanted to bundle her up and haul her home with them. But her screams of terror still echoed in his mind. If she came out of the trance in their home, with him and Digger there, he’d have to erase her memory. He desperately didn’t want to delete himself from her mind—her heart. Less than two days ago, she’d told him she loved him.

  He looked to Jesse. “Would you mind driving her to her house and seeing that she’s safe and sound?”

  “I think her arm’s broken,” Digger said.

  Dante stepped over to her and reached up to cup her cheeks, but then he saw all the blood on himself. And on her. Her glazed stare looked through him, and it killed him.

  “I’ll take care of her,” Jesse said. “If you can do whatever you need to do with her brain, I’ll see that she gets medical attention and gets home.”

  “Take her to the Sheridan clinic,” Digger said. “I’ll call Bryce and have him meet you there. He can patch her up.” Bryce was a human doctor married to an older female vampire.

  Dante swallowed hard, still a bit nauseous. “Remember the love, Wendy,” he whispered, staring into her blank eyes. “Forget the fear, but remember who and what I am.” He sucked in a deep breath. “You’re going to be all right. Don’t ever be afraid. The bad is gone. You’re safe.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “I love you.”

  She collapsed against Jesse’s supporting arms, her eyes shut.

  “Be gentle with her,” he said to Jesse as his heart broke open. He knew this would more than likely be the last time he saw her. She wouldn’t fear him or his kind, but she wouldn’t change her opinion of him.

  “I swear on my life,” Jesse said solemnly.

  A wave of dizziness caught Dante unaware, and he stumbled.

  Digger gr
abbed him. “Whoa there, mate. I gotcha.”

  “I need to feed more,” he said as he leaned on his friend.

  “We’ve got the stuff from the blood bank at home.”

  Jesse lifted Wendy into his arms and carried her away.

  “We need to call Gaston to clean up this mess.”

  “Donna worry yerself. I’ll take care of it.” They followed Jesse through the maze of stacked pallets. “I thought ya were a goner.”

  “He wanted to disable me. He wanted me to watch him rape Wendy. He wasn’t trying to kill me...yet.”

  “Fuck me.” Digger opened the passenger door of the Vette. “Sonofabitch, yer gonna get blood all o’er my car.”

  The smallest of smiles tugged at his lips. “I’ll pay to have it detailed.” His humor died as he watched Jesse load a limp Wendy into the passenger seat of his little SUV. He silently said goodbye as Jesse pulled the vehicle out of the parking lot.

  “If she’s the one, she’ll be back,” Digger said.

  Dante laid his head back against the seat. “They never come back.”

  —

  Wendy slid into consciousness in a haze of muscle aches and the awareness that she wasn’t in her own bed. Her eyes popped open, and she stared at the pale blue wall across from her. Hospital. Hard bed, heavy blankets that suffocated, the smell of latex and disinfectant.

  When she tried sitting up, her ribs ached, but not unbearably so. What grabbed her attention most was the throb in her jaw and the fat tensor bandage around her left wrist.

  A flash of... A man’s hand around her wrist, squeezing, pulling, dragging her...

  She narrowed her eyes and tried to grasp at the memory, but it slipped away before it fully developed. What the hell had happened to her? Why was she here?

  She saw her purse sitting on the windowsill across the room. So she hadn’t been mugged. Unless it was empty.

  Shoving herself up, she pushed the covers off her legs and swung them over the edge of the bed. She wore a hospital gown. Cool air caressed her back where the thing gaped open, and she shivered. She slid off the bed and moved across to the window, glad that the only thing that really hurt was her arm and face. She didn’t think her ribs were broken.