by Jessica Lee
“Oh, God! Please, no.” The pain in his chest surpassed any wound he’d ever received in battle. His eyes burned. Moisture clouded his vision.
“Emily!” he called to her, wiping at the water pooled within the corners of her eyes. “Can you hear me? Open your eyes.” What the hell was he going to do? Dear God, she’d lost so much blood. Her heartbeat was but a weak thump to his ears. No hospital could save her now.
Goddamn you, Marguerite! He bellowed inside his head, when what he wanted was to scream until his lungs burned for air. But he couldn’t risk drawing the attention. He groaned and curled over her body, both fists thumping his forehead.
He should have never let her go. Fool!
“Emily.” Kenric tried again with a light tap to her cheek.
No response.
He reached into her mind. “Emily. Hear me. It’s Kenric.” A chaos of voices and flashes of her memories surrounded him. “Focus on my voice. I’m here for you.”
A whisper of a reply called to him. “Kenric?”
“Come back to me, Wildflower. Please, open your eyes.”
The flutter of her eyelids kick-started his heart. A weak groan escaped her throat.
“Shhh… Don’t speak, love. I’ve got you.”
Her lashes, sprinkled with drops of water, drifted back down.
“Emily! Emily, stay with me!” he commanded with another soft tap to her wet cheeks.
Her eyelids slowly opened.
“You have to focus and listen to me. You’ve lost too much blood.” His voice failed him, choking on the damning words, you’re dying. “There’s nothing I can do.” He paused, swallowing the hard knot of pain back down into his gut. “There’s nothing I can do as a man,” he amended. “But there is another way.”
He shifted on the wet pavement, needing to see her eyes, to know for sure she understood exactly what he offered.
“I can turn you. Make you like me—a vampire. Do you want that?” He couldn’t believe the words spilling from his mouth. Never in his existence would he ever have thought to turn someone into the very thing he’d despised for centuries. But the idea of Emily no longer in his life trumped all his previous convictions. Having her here, with him, mattered more than all the other bullshit in his head.
She blinked. Beads of cold rain mixed with her tears and tumbled down her cheeks.
Bitten three times, she had enough of the antigen present in her system for the conversion, but he had to let it be her choice. Even if the thought of losing her felt like barbed wire shredding through his insides, he would never force her into this kind of life.
She hadn’t answered.
He brushed the blood-streaked auburn curls away from her face before repeating the question. “Do you want me to turn you? You have to answer me now, baby.”
He ran his hand over his rain-drenched face. “You’re dying,” he whispered, unsure how he got those last words out past the constriction in his throat.
A slight dip of Emily’s chin indicated her answer. More tears fell from beneath her lashes. Her lips parted on a weak cough. He leaned in.
“I…trust you.” She swallowed. The massacred flesh of her neck barely withstood the movement. Waiting for her next words to leave her lips nearly destroyed him. “Do…it.”
Kenric’s gut discovered a new definition for agony. She trusted him. He’d never sired another, but he’d be damned if inexperience would stop him from trying to save her.
Already drained of most of her life’s blood, he needed to only take her a step further, then feed her his own blood.
And pray.
Pray that she would survive the change. The next forty-eight hours would be hell on earth for both of them.
The last thing he wanted was to move Emily in her current condition, but if he was going to do this, he had to pull her farther into the shadows so that he could cloak them. Not that there should be much pedestrian traffic at this time of night and with the rain, but another vehicle pulling into the parking lot wasn’t out of the question.
He cradled her body tightly and, using every ounce of speed he possessed, moved them to the opposite side of her car, away from the street and into the shadowed edge of the building. Gently he repositioned Emily in his lap, then lifted his arms, gathering the shadows into the palms of his hands, and pulled them around their bodies. No one would notice them now.
He lowered his lips over the wound at her neck. “Hold on,” he whispered against her ear. “I’m not letting you slip away so easily.” He found her weak pulse and drained the remaining essence of her life.
Jerking his head free from her with an anguished groan, he jammed his fangs into his wrist.
Her head lay limp in his palm as he pressed his vein to her mouth. The crimson stream trickled down her chin. His arm shook next to her lips. He willed his heart rate to a steady rhythm. He had to stay calm. For Emily to survive, he had to get a grip.
Reaching back into her mind, he called for her in the darkness. Wrapping a compulsion within the words, he willed her to swallow.
“Come on. Drink for me.” He pressed his wrist tighter to her lips. “Hold on.” Her cheeks filled, and her throat bobbed. A cough racked her body as the warm flow gargled in the back of her throat.
“Swallow,” he commanded. “Come on, you can do this.” Another cough. Another swallow. “That’s it.” Her lips sealed around the wound on his wrist and pulled. “Take from me, Wildflower. Take from me and live.”
A burning ache spread up his arm from where she fed. He hissed as his cock hardened. An erotic high flashed through his veins. With every pull at his wrist, he soared. He shifted her in his lap. Damn, she didn’t deserve this. Not his begrudged arousal, nor the change to her destiny.
After what seemed like forever in the empty parking lot, he slipped his finger between her lips and removed the source of her nourishment. She groaned. He eased back into her mind, familiar with the pathway now, and soothed her. “There will be more to come, love.”
He hadn’t properly fed in days, and the amount he’d taken from Emily earlier wouldn’t sustain them both. With her life in his hands, he had to stay strong enough to get them both back to the compound—alive.
Lifting her carefully in his arms, he stood and phased.
The walls of the manor came into view, and Kenric’s legs buckled. He went down hard on his knees, cradling Emily to his chest. The world around him shifted like those crazy funhouse mirrors he’d once seen at a fair.
Bloody hell. He’d given more than he realized.
Exterior lights from the house flooded the grounds. The sensors had detected his presence. Blinded, he threw his hands up to cover his eyes right before the anxiety-laced voices of Michael and Elle surrounded him.
“Sir, let me help. Let me take her into the house.” Michael attempted to peel Emily from his clutches.
His gums tingled, and his fangs lowered. An ominous rumble surged from Kenric’s throat. “Mine.”
Michael flinched and jerked his hand away.
“I have her. Just get us inside and to my floor.”
Buffeted by the two, Kenric weaved his way to his quarters. He barked orders to Elle for bandages and a hot bath for Emily before turning to Michael and ordering him to get Guerin on the phone.
Elle stood at his side and helped lower Emily into the large soaker tub. The room continued to tilt with his every exertion. He glanced in Elle’s direction.
“DEAD attack?” Elle didn’t look up as she asked the unnecessary question. She knew the unmistakable evidence in front of her.
“Yes.”
“Good thing you got to her when you did.” She looked over at him this time.
“I didn’t.”
Her hands stilled for an almost indiscernible second, before she dropped her gaze and continued working with Emily’s clothes. Kenric went ahead and answered the question he knew burned in her head. “I had to turn her.”
Elle nodded and then muttered an “oh.” The Enclave
’s only human female resident had been down a similar path, and Kenric hated having to ask her to care for another female in the aftermath of a DEAD attack. Luckily for Elle, the damage had not been so great that she had to be transformed to survive. But the trauma had left behind scars only the people who knew her best could see.
A few silent seconds passed between them before Elle spoke. “Make your call, Kenric. I’ve got her. I’ll finish getting her clothes off, and the water will warm her.” She pushed at his shoulder. Her concerned expression told his head she understood and would take good care of her, but his feet didn’t want to obey. They had somehow attached themselves to his heart.
He didn’t want to leave her in the hands of another, but things had to be dealt with at the scene.
“Yell for me if she starts to wake, or if you need anything.” He backed away in what felt like slow motion.
“You know I will.”
She peeled the bloodied and ragged piece of cloth from Emily’s neck. He clenched his fist, but Elle didn’t flinch. He had to give her credit: Elle was as tough as they came. He thanked God for Elle’s help and her compassion. She moved to the shredded remains of Emily’s blouse, and Kenric spun on his heels. Passing through the doorway, his fist connected with the sheetrock, leaving a lasting impression of his rage.
Michael met him in the sitting room with a cell phone in his hand.
“I’ve got Guerin on the line,” he said, handing over the smart phone, then turned to show himself out.
Kenric gripped the slim case, pacing the confines of the room while he filled Guerin in on the details.
“Motherfucking bitch,” Guerin growled back into his ear at the news.
Kenric’s voice dipped into a grave tone. “I had to turn her.”
“She’s okay with that? That’s what she wanted?”
“Of course, it’s what she wanted,” Kenric blasted into the receiver. His free hand ran through his damp hair while his feet continued to tread the room. “You think I would have done that to her without consent?”
“No, man. Don’t get me wrong. I just know Emily is… She’s special to you. And I don’t know what I would have done in the same situation.”
Kenric stopped and leaned back against the wall, pressing the heel of his hand to the incessant throb at his temple. The back of his head bumped the wall with a hollow thud.
“Let’s just say this is a night I wouldn’t want to live through again.” Kenric swallowed hard, forcing the knot in his throat back down his esophagus. “About the scene. I need you or Logan to get over to Ocean Ave. Emily’s car is in a parking lot there, a blue Corolla. Looked like it’s next to a coffee shop. I need that scene scrubbed clean. Bring the car back to the compound when you’re done and make sure you have Emily’s personal items.”
“Consider it done.”
Elle’s voice called out for him from the bathroom.
“I need to take care of something. Ring me when you have everything completed.” Kenric hung up, already in motion back to Emily.
He stepped into the doorway, and Elle looked up from the side of the tub. “I could use some help getting her dressed and into bed.”
Kenric stood spellbound, his gaze fixed on the beautiful, pale woman lying naked in his tub. His heart kicked in his chest. Thank God this was what she’d wanted. His meager existence would have shattered in that parking lot tonight if he’d had to watch her die in his arms.
“Hey, Kenric,” Elle repeated, louder this time, grabbing his attention.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
Chapter Nineteen
The hot richness of the female’s blood flowed over his tongue and warmed his veins. Markus pumped twice more into the fishnet-and-leather-clad prostitute bent over the seat of his Ducati. Releasing his fangs from her neck, he reared his head back and groaned.
Sated for now, Markus slid from her and stuffed a Ben Franklin into her cleavage. He tucked himself back inside his pants before easing her around to face him. Dirty blonde curls hid her eyes. He brushed the tresses from her face, tucking them behind each ear. Her unfocused, glassy blue gaze searched his face. His hold on her mind distorted her ability to focus. A tipsy little grin curled the corners of her mouth. He chuckled. Her brain was on the vampire joyride of its life.
Markus leaned in and tended to the wound with his tongue, making sure the bleeding stopped prior to setting her on her way. With the small amount he’d taken, she would feel no ill effects. The bite would heal within twenty-four hours, leaving no sign of him. Until then, he planted a memory of a middle-aged customer with a kinky obsession, encouraging her to cover the mark.
His cell phone buzzed.
The hooker slid past him, shimmying her skirt into place. Her full rear jiggled with each rock of her hips as she swayed in her black stilettos.
Markus couldn’t resist. He slapped her behind as he pulled out his cell. She squeaked and whirled back around.
“Watch it. That’ll cost ya extra.” She winked, giving her gum a smack.
Markus growled but pulled back on any further exchanges. He’d already set memories in place.
“Yeah?” he belted into the phone, half listening to whoever the hell was on the other end. The sway of the ass moving away commandeered his gaze.
“I need you both back at the compound.” It was Guerin.
Arran stepped out of Tail Spin’s back door, passing hot stuff on her way back in.
Markus dragged his attention back to the conversation. “What’s going on?”
“There’s been a DEAD attack on Kenric’s friend Emily. He sent me to clean up the scene. I need you both back on premises. Kenric has Emily at the compound, and we need you there for security.”
“She’s alive?”
“Yeah.” Guerin hesitated before adding, “He turned her.”
Markus snapped his phone shut at the same moment a sharp pain pierced his brain, staggering him.
“What the hell’s wrong?” Arran’s voice penetrated the thick mental soup of anguish inside his skull but sounded a mile away. Markus pressed the heel of his hands into his temples and braced himself against the seat of his bike. His head was seriously jacked up.
The intensity eased to a pulsing ache.
He lifted his eyelids and forced a smirk. “I’m good, just a damn headache that’s been giving me hell off and on ever since I took that fall.”
“Well, you look like shit.”
“Yeah? Well, kiss my ass.” Markus threw up his middle finger for good measure.
“Sorry, think that’s been taken care of already. Besides, you’re not my type.” Arran swung his leg wide to capture his ride between his thighs. “Was that Kenric on the phone? I heard you ask if she’s alive. Who’s been hurt? Is it Gabrielle?”
Arran tried to pull some kind of worried-comrade bullshit, but Markus had known him too long. Elle was a hell of a lot more than a fellow comrade to him.
“No. Kenric’s female, Emily. DEAD attack. We need to head back.”
…
Not since he was newly turned had Kenric fed on this level, this fast. His head rushed from the overload. Striding into his room, he pulled his leather jacket off and rolled his shoulders, feeling hot and overstretched in his skin.
He found Elle at Emily’s bedside, bathing her forehead with a washcloth. Beads of sweat covered Emily’s face. She moaned and gripped the blanket covering her.
Easing down onto the other side of the bed, he lifted Emily’s hand, wrapping his own around it. She shivered with fever, her hand a heated torch in his palm. The vampire antigens were in full attack mode, re-creating her. She thrashed and cried out, her spine arching from the bed. Her body needed more of what he provided.
“Gabrielle, thank you for taking care of her.” Kenric glanced in her direction. She lifted her gaze from Emily, concern and worry wrinkling her forehead and lingering in her eyes. “I need you to leave us alone now.”
“Are you sure?” Her voice was shaky, hesitant.
>
He nodded.
“By the way, I bandaged what looked like a burn on her thigh. I’m sure once she completes the transformation, it’ll heal completely. Do you want me to come back in a little while and check on you both?”
She wanted to help, but there wasn’t anything she could do now. He had what Emily needed, and he would be here to ride it through with her.
“No. I’ll call down if we need anything.” He removed the washcloth from Emily’s forehead, wiping the droplets of perspiration that rolled from her temple. “Inform the others not to disturb us. It may be a day or two before you hear from me. In the meantime, I will need you to contact Emily’s employer at Elizabeth Bay Memorial. Tell them she’s been injured and may be out indefinitely, and that she’ll contact them personally as soon as she’s able.”
“I’ll take care of it. But before I go, Guerin asked me to make sure you got this.”
He lifted his head.
She held out a handbag in his direction. “It’s Emily’s.” She glanced down at the item in her hand. “Guerin had to collect the things from her purse off the seat of the car and the floorboard.” Elle skirted the bed and handed it to him. “There’s something in there he felt you would want to see.”
He stood, took the purse, and pulled it open. Lying on top of her wallet was a dark vial of what looked like blood. He lifted it from her purse and peered at the label. John Doe ER 11/10/11.
His gaze fell to the shivering woman in his bed. The center of his chest twisted into a painful constriction. The undeniable implications behind her having the vial bombarded him. Not Emily. Kenric couldn’t go there—didn’t want to go there.
No, no, no…
Betrayal.
Yet the word with its ugly connotation slithered through the recesses of his brain. A spasm seized his gut as if the world had just sucker-punched him in the midsection. Kenric didn’t want to believe it. Their history—the way she’d touched him, cared for him, and him for her—demanded he give her the benefit of the doubt. But since when in his life had anything ever ended with a happily ever after?
