by Bree Younger
After she’d finished with the gun, she checked the man to see how he was doing. He didn’t move, and his utter stillness made her heart stutter. Had he fainted? “Mister—Ty. You’re free. Can you sit up?”
He stirred. Thank you, Jesus, she thought to herself. He seemed to summon his strength and his dry lips parted. “Try. I’ll try…”
“I’ll help you.” Libby tucked the gun into the waistband of her pants, put her hands behind him, and pushed. Between the two of them and a whole lot of effort, they finally got him sitting upright. He was a little wobbly, and Libby was afraid that he was going to fall over at any moment. Her arms ached. How in the hell was she going to get him into the truck if it was that hard just to get him sitting up? She looked at her vehicle. Maybe if she laid down the back seats, she could get him into a standing position and somehow get him into the back…yeah, that was the only option. She would not give up. No matter what. That stubborn streak again.
“Can you stay like this? Ty, can you stay sitting up? I’m going to move my truck, okay? So we can get you up in it. Just stay right here.” She felt a little bit like she was talking to a child, he was so completely helpless and dependent on her.
Leaving him sitting there, she climbed back into the SUV and maneuvered it so that the rear door was very near to where the man was swaying unsteadily. When she had the vehicle as close as she could safely get it, she shoved the gear shift into park but left the motor running. Quickly she laid the seats down so that the back area was one long space. She then moved everything she could out of the back compartment and stacked it into the front passenger seat. The rest she shoved to one side, clearing enough space for the man to lie down. He looked to be over six feet tall, but if she got him in slanted with his knees bent, she thought he’d fit okay.
She darted a quick look around to make sure she wasn’t about to be surprised by unexpected company, but the area remained empty except for the two of them. Surely whoever it was that had done this was long gone. If they’d still been around, they would have definitely heard the sounds of the gunshots. She felt a little better at that realization.
“Okay, Ty. I really need you to help me. We’ve got to get you up into the truck. Please, please. Try really hard, okay?”
He grunted when she squatted down beside him and took his arm to drape it across her shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go. On three. One, two, three.” She shoved and pulled, straining with all her might. He tried to help, bracing himself on her shoulder until he finally got up onto his knees. His other hand moved to the back bumper, and his eyes met hers. She could see the pain in his expression so she stopped. “Can you try to go again?”
“Just…a couple…minutes.” He rested in the shadow cast by the hatchback, and Libby thought he was breathing just a little bit easier.
“Okay. Let me know when you’re ready.”
Libby herself was shaking from the effort just to get him that far. Though he was trying his best, she was still having to shoulder a lot of his weight. She prided herself on her physical fitness, but she was still a fairly petite, slender woman, and he was a big man. Much bigger than he had looked lying on the ground, actually. Not just tall. His body was long and lean and deceptively lanky. Now she knew he was pretty solidly built as well. But she was not going to give up. And from the looks of it, he wasn’t either.
They rested for a few more moments before the man finally said, “Okay.”
Libby nodded and took firm hold of him, wedging her arm beneath his. “Again. On three.” After struggling and tugging and pulling for what seemed like an eternity, the two of them finally had him sitting unsteadily in the rear of the vehicle. Libby was nearly exhausted. She could feel the sweat trickling down her back beneath her shirt and her muscles burned from the strain, but she knew they couldn’t stop yet.
Another short rest and one last effort, and at last he was lying in the back of the vehicle. With what she could tell was a herculean effort, he used his arms and legs to move further in. She pushed and shoved him until she had his legs up and inside enough that she thought she would be able to shut the back door. Leaning against the rear of the SUV, she paused a moment to catch her breath and wipe the sweat from her brow. God, she was worn out.
“The windows…please…cover…”
She realized that the sun slanting in was causing him even more pain. Fumbling through the duffle bag that she’d shoved in the corner earlier, Libby pulled out several shirts and a couple of towels she had packed for her camping trip. Then she proceeded to use them to cover the windows as best she could. The man—Ty—seemed to rest a little easier once that was done. It wasn’t a perfect solution—the shirts weren’t very thick and only partially blocked the sun—but it would have to do. She eased out, and, after looking him over to make sure he looked as comfortable as she could make him, she shut the back hatch.
Still keeping a wary eye out for anyone who might approach, she moved back around to the driver’s door. Once she had climbed in, she twisted around to see Ty lying there, his legs bent up so that he fit. Barely.
“I’ll just get you to a hospital. They’ll take care of you. Don’t worry. And we can call the sheriff’s department from there to report this. I promise you’ll be all right. Just hang on.”
He moaned again, and she thought she heard him mumbling, but it was too low for her to hear. She leaned over the seat. “Did you say something, Ty?”
He nodded, the motion obviously taking great effort. But he mumbled something again, his voice low and strained, and Libby couldn’t ignore his palpable distress. She scooted around so that she was on her knees halfway between the bucket seats, looking down at him. His eyes were closed tight so she bent closer. “What? Can you tell me? What is it?”
“No hospital. Somewhere dark. Out of the sun. It hurts. Please. So thirsty.” She rose upright and looked down at him, perplexed. She knew he needed a hospital, but she hadn’t been able to completely block out the sun from the SUV. His skin was so red and raw looking, and she realized it had to be excruciating to feel even the little bit of heat that was beating through the thin cotton of the shirts she’d hung up. Checking her watch she saw that it was now almost one. The sun wouldn’t be down for another four or five hours. Could she risk waiting that long to get him medical treatment? She was completely unfamiliar with the area. Was there a nearby hospital or clinic? And it was the weekend. Any small clinic or doctor’s office would probably be closed. She couldn’t just drive around aimlessly looking for someone to help him. And he would be in such unbearable pain. Waiting until the sun had gone down a bit more might not be a bad idea.
The nearest hospital she knew of was at least an hour away. Maybe more. She glanced at him again. His eyes were open and boring into hers. The agony in them cut through her like a knife.
“Please. Dark. Get me somewhere dark. No hospital.” His eyes pleaded with her.
She knew he had a point and finally nodded in agreement. The relief that came into his eyes was clear. “We’ve got to get away from here, but as soon as I think it’s safe, I’ll look for some place we can rest for a bit. Okay? But only for a few minutes to get you more comfortable. Okay? But then I’m going to have to get you to a hospital.” At her words, he closed his eyes, and she sat back down and began driving slowly back the way she had come.
* * * *
Ty tried to hold back a moan as the truck hit another bump. Son of a bitch. The pain was a constant thing, eating at his self-control, and the sun beating through the windows only added to the agony. He kept shifting around, trying to stay in the shade as much as possible, but it was difficult with the twisting and turning the truck was doing and the limited space he was in.
Who was the woman, and where was she taking him? Hell, he could barely think at all beyond the need for dark and blood. All his energy, all his effort must be focused on relieving the pain before it drove him insane. He needed blood. He needed it bad. And as far as he could tell, she was the only source on hand.
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He could hear her talking, whether to reassure him or herself, he wasn’t quite sure. She kept up a steady stream of “It’ll be all right” and “not much further now” interspersed with the occasional “silver linings.” He had to hand it to her, though. Whoever she was, she was a tough little thing.
They hit a particularly hard bump, and he couldn’t hold back a loud, “Fuck!” What the hell was she doing, trying to hit every damn bump in the area?
“I’m sorry. I’m sooooo sorry.” Hearing the guilt in her voice, he vowed to keep his pain to himself. She was obviously doing all she could.
He thought he could tell when they finally reached the road. There were fewer bumps, and, after a while, the speed of the vehicle picked up. He wasn’t sure how long it was before the truck slowed.
“There’s an old barn up ahead. It looks deserted. I think I can pull the truck inside and get you out of the sun. Hold on. I’ve gotta go across some rough terrain again.”
At last the torturous ride ended. He heard the woman getting out and the sound of creaking hinges. Then she was back in the vehicle and pulling it into blessed darkness
As he lay there, he tried to think about anything but the pain of his burns and his desperate need for blood. Again, fragments of images came to him. Men laughing at him. A feeling of self-disgust at his own stupidity. He tried to grab on to the memory, knowing there was something important they had said to him as they’d taunted him with his coming death.
More pain. It wouldn’t let him concentrate on anything more, and the face slipped away, born off by the throbbing agony he struggled to control. But he’d been strong for too long, and finally, thankfully, unconsciousness took the pain away, and he sank blissfully into the cool, empty darkness.
* * * *
After closing the barn doors, Libby hurried as quickly as she could, moving around to the back of the truck and raising the hatch.
“Mister?” His eyes remained closed. She tried again. “Ty, can you hear me?” Nothing. He must have passed out. She let out a sigh of relief. That was probably the best thing for him. She noticed the shivers that had started to shake his body and knew that she had to do something. He must be going into some kind of shock. Again she questioned her decision to bring him here instead of a hospital. What the hell had she been thinking? But the hospital was just so far. What if he died before they got there? Maybe she could do something for him here before they set off for the hospital.
Reaching over, she grabbed the first aid kit she kept in the back of the truck and climbed up to kneel beside him. Quickly, she pushed aside the Band-Aids and alcohol swabs and picked up the tube of burn relief cream. After reading over the directions, she quickly discarded it. Besides being such a small tube that would never have enough ointment to cover his body, it was only for first-degree burns. His were much worse. Second-degree for sure. Maybe even some third-degree. Scrabbling through the kit, she finally slumped over in defeat. There was nothing. Just some ibuprofen that would be little help against such severe pain. What a freaking worthless pile of junk. What else? She looked around the truck’s interior, seeking inspiration. Think, Libby. Think.
Water. That’s what he really needed. Lots of cold water on the burns. She’d moved the ice chest filled with bottled water and melting ice to the passenger seat, so she scooted up to reach over and flip the top open. After pulling the shirts and towels down from the windows, she soaked them with the water and carefully placed them across Ty, covering his limbs and torso gently, wanting to weep at the horrible burns and blisters that were forming. At least he seemed a fraction more comfortable since she had gotten him out of the sun. She imagined that the feel of the sun on those burns had been horrible.
She sat there beside him, periodically adding more water to the towels, praying that she was doing the right thing. The tremors continued to move over him, and she worried that she was doing something wrong. She had never felt more helpless or uncertain. What if he didn’t wake up soon?
Her gaze traveled over him, trying to discern his features despite the horrible burns covering his face. He seemed young, maybe in his late twenties. His hair was fairly long and dark blond. A little shaggy, as though he hadn’t seen a barber in a while. And she remembered those eyes of his—so blue they’d almost seemed surreal. She imagined he was quite good-looking under normal circumstances.
Suddenly, those blue eyes blinked open. She moved quickly to look into his face. He gazed at her without recognition for several long moments. “Ty? Are you okay? I was so worried. God, it’s good to see you awake again.” She saw his mouth move and leaned closer to try to hear what he was saying.
“Thirsty. So thirsty.” She leaned in a bit closer. “Need…blood.”
“What—?” Before she could even register what he had said, he moved. With a speed and energy that astonished her considering his pitiful condition, he grabbed her on the back of her head and pulled her down. Where he got the strength she did not know, but he turned her over so that he was above her, his body pressing her firmly down into the carpet, and then he bent his head. Shock held her still as he opened his mouth, and she saw the sharp fangs emerge from his gums. His eyes flashed into hers, the blue replaced by a deep crimson red. Disbelief clouded her mind when his mouth moved against the side of her throat. She felt a piercing pain in her neck. God! Oh, God.
She shoved against him. Hurt, it hurt. She pounded on his shoulders, pulled his hair. She screamed out and begged for him to stop. She cried and pleaded mindlessly. He wouldn’t budge. Just held her more firmly, sucked on her neck more voraciously, drawing the blood from her veins in deep gulps. Each pull felt stronger and stronger, even as she could feel herself getting weaker. Already tired from the effort of getting him into the truck and tending to him, her limbs now felt incredibly heavy, and her eyes began drifting closed. But at least it didn’t hurt any more, she thought. In fact, it started to feel good, so deliciously, meltingly good.
Chapter Three
So sweet. She tasted so damn sweet. In a feverish haze, Ty clasped her closer, as though he were afraid she would disappear. His angel. His savior. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of rage and vulnerability and hunger. The only thing that kept him from screaming madness was the body of the woman he held tightly against him. He couldn’t remember her name or why he was hurt so badly. He just knew that she was the only thing keeping him sane. He buried his hands in her hair and rode the tide of relief and agonizing desire that swept over him. He couldn’t think past the moment and the warm blood flooding his mouth. He rubbed his body against hers, groaning at the way she lifted against him. Yes. Yes. He could already feel his body absorbing the healing fluid, his starved cells greedily soaking it in.
He fed mindlessly, he wasn’t sure for how long, but he gradually became aware of something besides his great hunger for blood. The woman…God, he wanted her. Bloodlust, he vaguely thought to himself, then pushed the thought aside.
The woman’s skin was incredibly soft against his mouth, like satin. He could not think. Didn’t want to. Instinct was driving him as he moved his hands over her body, frustration flooding him as he encountered the layer of fabric that prevented him from getting closer to her warm flesh. He wanted to feel more. Needed to feel her skin against his. Without pausing in his feeding, he urgently pushed the shirt up. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Groaning with a need that would have shocked him if he had been more aware, he cupped one small breast, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the tightening nipple.
His cock lengthened and thickened as he drew more of her blood into his mouth, incapable of thinking past the moment and his desire. For her blood. For her body. With jerky movements, he ripped open her shorts and was about to shove them down when the slowing of her pulse and her gradual lack of movement beneath him penetrated his consciousness. It took every amount of willpower he could gather to force himself away from her. He managed to stroke a healing lick across the bite on her neck and give her a mental push into unconsciou
sness before rolling onto his back, fists clenched against the almost overwhelming need to continue feeding and fucking.
Damn it. He had to stop. He had almost raped her. Almost taken too much blood. Vampires weren’t supposed to take more in a single bite than a human would give at a normal blood donation. Damn it to hell! He would drain her dry if he wasn’t careful. He hadn’t been that careless and out of control in decades. Hell, in at least a century. Not since the first hot, burning months of his turning had he been so lost in the feeding.
It took him several minutes before he had himself under control enough to risk a look at the woman. Libby. He remembered her now. She lay beside him, unconscious, her face way too pale. Shit, shit, shit! He never mistreated a woman like that. What a way to thank her for saving his life! He was deeply ashamed of himself, of his loss of control, but realized that he didn’t have the time to wallow in self-pity.
He lay there a long time, his mind busily considering what he needed to do while his body slowly healed. As his strength gradually returned, so did more and more of his memory. He knew he had to get them to safety as quickly as possible, but he was trapped by the sunlight.
The vampires who had taken him would be returning at nightfall to retrieve his remains so they could deliver their “message” to Quinn. When they didn’t find him in the clearing, it wouldn’t take them long to start searching for him. He wasn’t sure how far Libby had managed to get them in her car. It had seemed like the drive had taken forever, but it could have been only minutes. He just didn’t know—he’d been so out of it. And he didn’t yet have the strength necessary to defend himself and Libby against several pissed-off vamps. No, they had to get the hell out of there. Immediately. If not sooner.
