Dante’s Salvation

by Anna Leigh Keaton

  The window was on the second floor of a building, and it wasn’t any of the local hospitals. She overlooked 4th Avenue. A downtown clinic?

  She opened her purse and looked in. Her wallet, cell phone, keys were all there.

  “Oh, good, you’re finally awake.”

  She swung around, grabbing the back of the gown with her right hand to make sure her butt was covered. A tall, lanky blond man in a doctor’s lab coat entered the room with a pleasant smile on his face.

  “What happened to me?” she asked without preamble.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t remember?”

  She licked her lips and shook her head. “No. Not really.”

  An image of Dante flashed in her mind. He wore all black and wielded a sword like a knight. She frowned at the doctor.

  “Have a seat, Wendy,” he said, his voice gentle.

  She moved back to the bed and sat down, pulling the stifling covers over her bare legs.

  “Do you know Jesse Johnstone?”

  “Yes,” she said slowly.

  “He brought you here last night. Do you remember why?”

  She licked her dry lips again. Dante fighting with someone. Someone who wanted to hurt her. A sword fight.

  Vampire.

  A soft smile tilted the doctor’s lips. “It’s coming back, isn’t it?”

  “Are you...one of them?”

  “Ah, no.” He smiled in earnest and shoved his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “I’m married to one of them.”

  She wondered if they were talking about the same thing. Vampires didn’t get married. Did they? Hell, they weren’t even supposed to exist.

  As if a dam opened, memories poured into her mind. Evan coming to her apartment and telling her Dante was injured. Going with him. Evan’s maniacal laugh. How he’d gripped her arm with a strength that was inhuman. Dante fighting with Evan. Evan dying. Dante needed her blood.

  “Dante,” she whispered, remember how pale he’d been as he lay there on the concrete floor.

  “He’s fine,” the doctor reassured.

  She glanced at the name on his pocket, which said Dr. B. Sheridan. Shaking her head, she glanced down at her bandaged arm then back at the doctor. “You’re sure?”

  He nodded. “He called here about twenty minutes ago to check on you. He’s at home, resting, but should be back to his old self in a day or two.” He grinned, and his pale blue eyes seemed to sparkle. “They heal a heck of a lot faster than we do.”

  She licked her lips again, and he asked, “Would you care for something to drink? Water? Tea? Soda?”

  “Um. Soda, please.” She could use the bit of caffeine boost, and she did feel parched. Her throat was a little raw, too, and she wasn’t sure why.

  “Be back in a minute.” On his way to the door, he pulled open a cabinet door, which she saw was a small closet, and pulled out a pair of jeans and sweatshirt. He came back and laid them on the foot of the bed. “Jesse brought these in. You can go ahead and get dressed. You’re good to go whenever you feel up to it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Folded inside the pants were a pair of sweat socks and underwear. While Dr. Sheridan was gone, she pulled on her clean clothes, leaving the rough hospital gown on the end of the bed.

  A knock sounded on the door, and she called, “Come in.”

  The doctor came in with a can of cola and a small cup filled with ice. He set them on the bedside table. “How’s your head? Any blurred vision or anything?”

  “No.” She poured some of the fizzy drink over the ice then sipped with relief. “Just my ribs a bit, and this...” She lifted her left arm. “Is it broken?”

  “Just badly bruised. I did x-rays.”

  After a few more sips, she asked, “Was I hit over the head? What happened to me?”

  “You were put in a trance.”

  She frowned at him over the rim of the plastic cup.

  “Hypnotized. Jesse said you were pretty hysterical, and it was the only way to calm you down.”

  “To hypnotize me,” she murmured. She had an odd feeling, as if there were things she couldn’t remember. “Is there a way they can make a human forget something?” Like an entire night when she was pissed off at Dante and Candice for dancing together?

  “Yes. But Dante assured me he didn’t do that last night. He said Digger hypnotized you so that you weren’t hysterical, and all they took out was the worst part of the... Well...” He shrugged. “I guess it got pretty gory.”

  She could remember seeing Evan swinging the sword at Dante, and then Digger and Jesse were there, but it was as though little segments of time were missing.

  “Is there any way to get back whatever they took out of my head?”

  “Only if they hypnotize you and put it back.”

  Now she really wondered what exactly happened the other night. Candice said she’d been furious when she found them dancing at The Starlight. So he’d zapped her memory to take away her anger? To seduce her into bed?

  She narrowed her eyes at the doctor.

  “Whoa, now, Wendy. Don’t jump to any conclusions. I’ve known Digger and Dante for a lot of years, and they’re not unethical. If they erased anything, there’s a reason. They were worried about your mental state. As a medical doctor, I wish I had the ability to remove traumatic memories from my patients.”

  How could she argue with that? But that didn’t change the fact that the other night she’d left the club with him—according to Candice—mad enough to castrate him. When she woke up the next morning, she’d fucked him like a...

  She squeezed her eyes shut. He’d felt so good. Been so...absolutely...amazing.

  “Wendy.”

  She looked up at the doctor.

  “When I talked to Dante this morning, he said he didn’t wipe out your memory of him because he wants you to know who and what he is. They don’t go around revealing themselves to humans on a regular basis. It takes someone very special to them to open their community to us outsiders.”

  Wendy stood up and went to the window to get her purse. “Who do I see about payment?” She needed to think, and she couldn’t do it here. She needed some coffee, and she needed to be alone.

  “It’s all been taken care of. Keep the arm wrapped up for a few days. Take some ibuprofen or acetaminophen for the pain.”

  She smiled, which pulled at her sore jaw. “I’m a medical tech. I know the routine.”

  He smiled at her. “Good, then.”

  “Uh. How bad do I look?” she asked, glancing around the room for a mirror.

  “Follow me,” the doctor said and held the door for her. He led her down a short hall to a restroom and turned on the light for her. “Would you like me to call you a cab?”

  She shook her head. She needed the fresh air to clear her mind, and she didn’t live far.

  “Take care of yourself,” he said before he walked off down the hallway.

  Wendy stepped into the bathroom, shut and locked the door, then went to the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. “Ugh.” She had a golf ball-sized bruise on her jaw, her bottom lip was split in the corner, and her hair was a wild, curly bird’s nest.

  She pulled her brush from her purse then realized it was Monday. She hadn’t shown up for work. “Shit,” she murmured as she pulled out her cell phone. Cathy answered. “Hi, Cathy, it’s Wendy.”

  “Wendy! Where are you? We were getting worried. Are you okay?”

  She licked her lips as she formulated the lie. “I, um, was mugged last night. I’m a little banged up. Could you please tell Doctor Thompson I need a couple days off?”

  “Of course. Do you need anything?”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. She needed to figure everything out. Too much stuff swam around in her head, and she didn’t even know which end was up. “No. I’m fine. Just a little bruised. Thanks.”

  “You call me if you need something, okay? We were so worried when we couldn’t get a hold of you this morning.”r />
  “Thanks,” she said again. “I’ll be in Wednesday.”

  “Take your time. I’m sure Dr. Thompson agrees with that.”

  She was, too. Thompson was a wonderful employer. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” She disconnected the call and glanced at her reflection again.

  Her strongest urge was to go to Dante’s to see for herself if he was really okay. On the other hand, she didn’t know if she should ever go near him again. He was... They were...

  Vampires.

  She shivered but had no idea how she felt about that fact.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dante sat on the sofa, staring at the ring he’d happened across at an estate sale the day before. He’d bought it on a whim because the scrollwork and antique gold matched the crucifix pendant Wendy always wore. The one for which he’d given her matching earrings. A half carat diamond was set within the white gold of the ring. It would make a beautiful engagement ring.

  But not for him to give.

  He’d called Wendy once a day for the last week and a half. She never answered her phone or called him back. Today he’d sent her a single red rose and a card begging her to talk to him. The only thing left to do was track her down in person and run the risk of being arrested for stalking.

  He’d sworn he wouldn’t push her, but inside he was dying. Slowly. Painfully. His heart shriveling to the size of a raisin.

  The front door opened, and Digger and Jesse came into the house, laughing and holding hands. His gut twisted, and he snapped the lid shut on the jewelry box. The two lovebirds didn’t even acknowledge him as they headed straight for the stairs.

  Dante pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. The last thing he needed was to sit here and listen to them go at it all night. He stood up, shoved the little jewelry box into his pocket, and headed out the door. A long walk would do him good. Maybe. Something had to drag him out of this. He had to accept the fact that Wendy wanted nothing to do with him. It was over.

  The night was warm with a full moon hanging low over the bay, glittering off the water. He headed down the hill toward downtown, planning to make his way to the pier. Maybe grab a drink at Fisherman’s Warf.

  Hands in his pockets, he wandered the streets. The smell of the sea was strong, mingling with the aroma of coffee from the many cafés. And then a scent hit him that made him pause. Onions, peppers and grilled beef. The scent that had clung to Wendy that first night.

  He turned the corner and saw the door to Dinner and a Date. The lights were bright inside, so he walked in.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” said a woman who sat behind a low counter. “We’re full for the night.”

  He nodded. “Thanks, anyway.” He turned back around and walked out. He wasn’t sure why he’d gone in there anyway. He didn’t want any date but Wendy. He headed toward the wharf when another scent carried to him on the breeze. This time it was unmistakable. Lilacs and Wendy.

  He paused and realized he was just a few doors down from the coffee shop in which he’d first met her. Slowly, he made his way to the front window of Addictions, and there she sat, alone at the same table where she’d been that night only a couple of weeks ago. It felt as if it had been a lifetime since he’d held her, touched her, kissed her full lips, heard her declare her love for him.

  She sat at the table, looking so much like the first time he’d seen her. Head propped on hand as she stared at her mug of coffee, a big cinnamon roll at her elbow, untouched.

  Dante moved to the door and pulled it open. He weaved his way through the tables to reach hers, and just like the first time, he asked, “Is this seat taken?”

  Her head snapped up, her eyes widened, and then she looked back at the table and shook her head.

  She didn’t tell him to get lost, so perhaps there was some hope. He pulled out the chair and sat down. “Hi, Wendy.”

  “Hi.” She picked up her spoon and stirred her coffee.

  A million things went through his mind. Why won’t you take my calls? I’ve missed you. I love you. Give me another chance. But all those things seemed too pushy. She’d avoided him for days. He needed to take it slow if he was to gain any ground with her. So he simply said, “I’m sorry.”

  “Can I get ya somethin’?”

  Dante shook his head at the waitress’ question but couldn’t tear his gaze from Wendy. He couldn’t stomach anything right now. This meeting was the final test. Either he passed and got another chance, or she sent him packing.

  Wendy still stared into her coffee, but she let go of the spoon and lowered her hands below the table. He sensed her inner turmoil. She fairly vibrated with it. At least there was no fear, and for that he was thankful. It might kill him if she feared him.

  “What are you sorry for?” she asked in little more than a whisper after the waitress left.

  He leaned forward and kept his voice low. “For deceiving you. For not telling you who I was sooner. For putting your life in danger.”

  “What about erasing my memories?” she said, her voice shaking. “Are you sorry for that?”

  “I... No. I’m not.”

  She glanced up at him. In that split second, he saw the hurt he’d caused.

  “Wendy, my love, I had no choice.”

  “You don’t love me,” she hissed. “You wouldn’t have made me forget an argument if you loved me. Fights are part of a relationship.”

  “I do love you, and it wasn’t my intention to erase the fight. You were hysterical, and I had to deal with...” He glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Dropping his voice even more, he leaned in closer. “Evan had left a dead body on the doorstep. When you went to leave—to storm out from the argument we were having—you found it. You were screaming. I had no choice but to mesmerize you. In my haste, I wasn’t specific enough with the hypnotic suggestion, and it erased the entire evening. For that I’m sorry.”

  Her jaw flexed as she gritted her teeth, and she stared at her coffee.

  “Why won’t you look at me?” he asked.

  “Because if I look at you, you might erase my brain again.”

  She might as well have kicked him in the gut. The air whooshed out of him, and he sat back in the chair. He’d killed all trust she could ever have in him. She wouldn’t even look at him. It really was over between them.

  He couldn’t blame her. If the tables were turned... He stood up to leave, but he couldn’t until he touched her one last time. He leaned down, cupped her neck, and laid his cheek against hers. Her skin was warm and soft and smelled of lilacs. He kissed her cheek, and then her forehead. “I will always love you,” he whispered, his throat so tight he thought he was being strangled.

  Wendy looked up as he pulled back, just in time to catch the quickest glimpse of pain in Dante’s eyes before he turned away. Gone was the debonair man she’d met right here in this coffee shop. As he walked away, his shoulders were slumped, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He looked as horrible as she felt. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and walked into the night.

  In a rush, she grabbed her purse, jumped out of the seat, and took off after him. “Hey!” she shouted as she shoved through the door and caught sight of him at the end of the block.

  Dante stopped and turned toward her.

  “If you love me, why the hell aren’t you fighting a little harder?” She wanted to be indignant, but tears burned her eyes as she hurried toward him. “You’re just going to walk away? That’s it? You didn’t even try to defend yourself when I said you were going to erase my brain.” Her voice hitched, and she sucked in a breath. “If you love me, why are you leaving? Why don’t you defend yourself?”

  She’d spent the last week and a half trying to convince herself that she couldn’t deal with everything he was. But the overriding emotion, which was nearly enough to suffocate her, was that she loved him with all her heart.

  That single, perfect bloom he’d sent her today had tipped the scales in his favor, along with the simple, yet elegant c
ard that asked her to please talk to him. But as she’d walked out her door to go to his house, the doubt had returned, and she’d needed a little more time to think. That’s how she’d wound up in the café.

  “What good is fighting for something that will never be?” he asked. His voice was soft and deep and sent a shiver through her. “If you fear me, what do I say to change that? If you do not trust me...” He shook his head and turned away for a moment, then back. “I have been through this before, Wendy. It is why I have avoided letting my emotions tangle with a woman for the last hundred and fifty years.”

  The pain was so evident in his voice, it caused a physical pain in her heart. “What do you mean? You haven’t had a lover in that long?”

  He shook his head. “I haven’t had a lover in ten years. I have not loved in well over a century.” His mouth turned down into a frown. “I am over three hundred years old, and I have loved three women. The woman who turned me into this monster you cannot stand to look at. She loved me so much, she couldn’t watch me die, so she gave me eternal life. She was killed by a man not unlike Evan. When my heart finally healed from losing her, I tried again. The next one told me she accepted what I was...” He made a face of disgust. “It wasn’t long until I repulsed her.”

  Wendy realized she was the third one. He was...frightened. Her heart turned over, and the tears spilled from her eyes. He’d been alone for over a century? She thought three years had been rough. She reached out toward him, but he stepped back and his face hardened.

  “I didn’t tell you to gain your pity.”

  “I—”

  “Do not say it. Please. I’ve been through this. Mary tried to live with it, tried to convince herself that I wasn’t a bloodsucking monster, but it doesn’t work. Even if I never feed from you, you’ll know that I need human blood to live. No matter what you try to tell me or yourself, that makes you sick.

  “Did you know I drank your blood? Did you know that? That I couldn’t help myself when we had sex that first time? You tasted so damn good I couldn’t stop myself. That’s the kind of evil monster I am.”

  He swiped his hand through his hair. “Goodbye, Wendy. Try to remember the good things that happened between us. Forget the rest. It’ll be best for you—for both of us.” He turned and started down the sidewalk.