Smith, Faith V. - Presidential Heat [Vampire Government Protectors] (BookStrand Publishing Romance)

by Faith V. Smith

  “Kira, my dear, if you wouldn’t mind?”

  Gareth’s outstretched hand left her no choice. She moved in closer to the microphone. With the extra inches her shoes gave her, she could actually speak directly into it. For lack of anything else she could come up with, Kira spoke one word. “Hi.”

  “Hi, Agent Jackson. I just have one quick question. The president’s already stated you’ll continue as his agent. Is it true you, as well as all the agents who guard him, are willing to die to protect him?”

  Although a bit odd, Kira had this question. “Yes, I can say without a doubt I’d lay down my life to protect President Hayes or any other president in office.”

  The young man grinned, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a gun.

  “Good, I was hoping you would say that.”

  In the blink of an eye, the man aimed and fired point-blank at Gareth. The pop-popping sound sent a scorch of terror inside her heart. Kira wasted no time. She pushed Gareth out of the way and turned to make sure the others standing behind him were safe. A burning pain seared her arm, and she could smell the sweet, metallic scent of her own blood.

  Now she was pissed. The blood dripped down the Michael Kors dress and puddled on her Jimmy Choo stilettos. The man was going to pay for this, and in a hard way.

  One moment she stood there, the next she flung herself out from behind the podium and lunged at the man.

  She took him down with the first strike of her body, disarmed him, and then a bit weak from the gunshot wound, she sat on him.

  Sounds began to fade, and Kira looked up to see a shocked crowd staring at her. She didn’t understand why they all looked so strange. Hadn’t they ever seen an agent in action before?

  “Kira, honey, look at me.”

  It sounded like Malachi, but where was all the concern in his voice coming from? The man should be patting her on the back for a job well done.

  “Kira, hang on. The ambulance is on its way.” Gareth’s tone rivaled Malachi’s, but he sounded so hoarse.

  Ambulance? The idiot she was sitting on didn’t need a medic. She hadn’t hurt him that badly. She felt Gareth and Malachi grip each of her arms, raise her gently to her feet, and then they held on to her as if they thought she was going to fall.

  What on earth had gotten into them? Their behavior made her think of someone cosseting a person on his deathbed. The crowd that had thinned out when she took her lunge surged forward.

  “Did you see that?”

  “Bob, did you get that on camera?

  “My boss isn’t going to believe this.”

  The pressmongers’ chattering made her head hurt. Come to think of it, she was hurting all over. Her arm burned, her legs felt scraped raw, and her chest hurt as if she’d landed on a grenade.

  “Kira, the ambulance is almost here. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Finally, she looked up at Malachi. Every bit of color had drained from his face. His eyes actually glistened with blood-red tears. What on earth was wrong with him? Next, she looked into Gareth’s gaze. His green eyes were also wet. He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, but didn’t say a word.

  Kira heard the approaching ambulance. The siren sounded shrill, desperate in its need to arrive. Who was hurt? Gareth and Malachi looked fine.

  The siren did one last round of screaming before it cut off. With its cessation, the crowd once again fell quiet.

  “Okay, honey, here we go. Just a bit longer and you’ll be on your way to the hospital.” Gareth’s words came from a distance. The spring air suddenly turned cold. Her heart boomed loudly in her chest a couple of times before settling back into a weak rhythm. Funny, she’d never had a problem with her heart being erratic.

  Both men maintained their grip. The ambulance attendants rushed out the door, into the garden. Why were they running? She didn’t see anyone hurt. She wanted to ask them who the victim was. She took a step forward. Her legs trembled and then buckled beneath her.

  It was then Kira saw what everyone else had already seen. A knife protruded dead center from her chest.

  Damn, years spent in the Marines and Special Ops and she’d never been injured. Now, she had a bullet and knife inside her body. Way to go, Kira. Your first day of being the fiancée of the President of the United States, and you bleed all over the press conference.

  Laughter bubbled up in her chest, but before it could make its way up her throat and past her lips, a crushing pain shot through her heart. She barely heard Gareth and Malachi’s shouts before she fell into a dark void of nothingness.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kira regained consciousness in the ambulance, with an IV needle stuck in her arm and the other end attached to Malachi’s. “What happened?” Her voice sounded weak, her limbs felt boneless, and her chest ached, although not as badly.

  “Welcome back, hon. You scared the crap out of me.” Malachi’s tone sounded gruff, but the tears she felt sure she’d imagined earlier were no longer in evidence.

  He cleared his throat. “Not to mention the years you took off of Gareth’s life. And he can’t afford to lose any.”

  “Gareth!” Kira tried to sit up, but was too weak to force the belt restraint across her chest open. “Is he okay?”

  “Yes, don’t you remember? You saved his life and almost lost yours.”

  Kira shook her head slightly, closed her eyes, and allowed the memories of the past hour to scroll across the inside of her eyelids. Every second, from the time she pushed her way past the sentry agent at the private quarters, the press conference, the would be assassin, to now. Shoot, the outfit she had on was probably a total loss. Not much you can do to disguise a dagger-size hole in a dress bodice. And she actually liked the new shoes.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “About how pissed I am someone ruined the first decent dress I’ve had in years, and my designer shoes.”

  Malachi laughed. The sound was welcomed due to the fact he didn’t do it often. She would have joined in but decided to wait until her chest wound healed a bit more. Thank God for her vampiric traits—which brought to mind, how would they explain this to the press and to Gareth?

  “I take it this is one of those special ambulances we keep on staff for problems like a vampire with a knife in his or her heart?”

  “Yes, and we have a doctor on call at Bethesda Naval Hospital who will know how to treat you and make it look like you are recovering as a mortal does. Of course, that means you’ll have to do what he says for a couple of days.”

  “And who’s going to guard Gareth while I’m doing just that? And where is the man? You’d think with his fiancée injured, he’d be right at my side.” Kira hated that she sounded petulant, but hey, she’d ruined her clothes, got shot, knifed, and Gareth was AWOL.

  “Kira, we had to play it by the book. Gareth wanted to be here, but with the attempt on his life, we put him under strict guard with several agents. He’s fine. Or he will be, once he calms down.” Malachi scrubbed a hand across his face.

  “Gareth was fit to be tied when I told him he couldn’t ride with us in the ambulance. He almost hit me when I told him he couldn’t come to the hospital at all until we checked it out to make sure it’s safe.”

  Kira giggled. Lord, she hurt, but she couldn’t help herself. Poor Gareth, he was probably standing on his head. Not to mention a bit miffed that his “fiancée” and agent saved his butt. “How’s his ego?”

  “Well, since you asked, he’s acting like a cat with a twisted tail. Remember, he doesn’t know you’re almost unkillable. So, it grated quite a bit on him that you were quicker to respond than he was. Of course, I had no doubt you were the best.”

  Malachi leaned closer. “But if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll take you over my knee and beat you senseless.”

  “Well, gee, boss, I didn’t know you cared.”

  Moment by moment, Kira began to feel better. “How far to the hospital, and what happens next?”

  “We’re about
five minutes out. Bethesda Naval Hospital is only thirty minutes away from the White House. I think next you’re going to pretend to be unconscious. Then Dr. Marlowe—yes, he’s one of us—will take you into surgery with a team of GVPs, and you’ll eventually be assigned a room in ICU. Then, Gareth will visit you. Until you find the moment to actually tell him what you are, and we get a chance to question this Arthur guy about who put him up to the assassination attempt, we’ll act like you’re under guard for your own safety.”

  “Okay, so will I get a chance to question this freak?”

  “No, you won’t. You’d scare the man to death. I have a feeling whoever paid him to do this, since I don’t think he’d have had the balls otherwise, will have conveniently hired him under a bogus name. If we’re lucky, maybe we can get Arthur to describe what the man looked like, if he even saw him.”

  “Do you think this is part of the death threats Gareth’s been receiving, or something totally separate?”

  Malachi’s brows pulled together. “I’m thinking the man responsible for the threats and this attempt on Gareth’s life is probably one and the same. I’m also thinking he may have orchestrated the attempt on Gareth’s life that resulted in Judith and those agents being killed.”

  “Wow. If it is the same guy, then he must have one hell of a huge vendetta against Gareth.”

  “Yes, and that means he’s not going to give up until we catch him, or Gareth is killed.”

  Kira closed her eyes. Today had been way too close for comfort. All events led to one totally smart and unglued mastermind. “Malachi, do you think this same guy might have engineered the explosions on Air Force One?”

  “Good question. I’m inclined to believe it, but I’ll have to wait until we get more facts in. I know that’s going to be one of the things I’ll be questioning Arthur about.”

  “Yes, and it might help to go over the flight manifest. See if Arthur might have been on board. He could have been in disguise.”

  “Good idea. If he did set those explosions, it’s possible he did it between checking in and the time we took off. A quick trip to the bathroom, and he could sneak off the plane. We’ll know more when we find exactly where the initial detonation device was located.”

  The wail of the sirens began to slow. Kira’s ears picked up the sound of massive but controlled chaos. They must be almost at the hospital. Although the naval facility had seen its share of assassination attempts, some failures and some successes, this was a hospital that would do all it could to heal while keeping its patients’ privacy safe.

  “Okay, we’re here, honey. Close your eyes and rest. To make sure we’re convincing enough, one of the techs is going to administer something to make you sleepy. Just relax. When you wake up, you should be in the ICU.”

  The paramedic pumped a syringe to get the air out and then inserted it into Kira’s IV. Malachi pulled the needle out of his arm, slapped his wrist over the puncture wound to stop any bleeding, and his face settled into features oozing concern.

  Kira had to admire the man. He knew what to do and when to do it.

  * * * *

  Four to five hours later, Kira awakened to find a roomful of people gawking at her. Lord, had she slept with her mouth open? She didn’t recognize any of them, but they wore medical scrubs, so she assumed it was an influx of curious nurses and medical residents.

  She resisted the urge to say, “Boo.” Malachi would skin her if she caused a scene. Instead, she pulled on her acting panties and strived to sound realistic.

  “Where am I?”

  Her words, although low, caused a panic.

  “She’s awake. Call Dr. Marlowe,” echoed from a dozen voices.

  A bare moment later, the said doctor arrived with Malachi in tow. After shooing away the sea of scrubs, he pulled closed the ICU cubicle’s door, pulled up a chair, and sat down.

  “Well, young lady, I don’t have to tell you how lucky you are. The knife could have broken off inside your chest and caused some severe damage before you healed.”

  Kira just nodded her head. Truth be told, she still felt a bit groggy from the sedative.

  “This is what I’ll be issuing as a press release. The knife missed your heart by a few centimeters. You’re recovering, but will need to be hospitalized for a few days, and then complete bed rest after that.”

  The doctor looked at Malachi. “With the situation as it is, and since we know she’s well enough to continue her duties, I think you should have her continue her recovery at the White House.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Besides, I can’t see Gareth having it any other way.”

  “Hey, don’t I get a say?”

  “No!” Both voices almost shouted the word.

  “Fine, but I’m the one getting shot, knifed, married, and it just seems I should have a bit of input.”

  “You input what you want to get married in. Leave the rest of it up to me, Kira.”

  Kira actually saw red. Her vision turned crimson, and she was more than ready to release her fangs to snap Malachi’s neck.

  “If you think for one minute I’m going to start playing the part of the little woman, you’re out of your fang-toting mind, Malachi.”

  “I know it goes against the grain, but yes, that’s exactly what you’re going to do for a time. We need you to look as if you’re so consumed with recovering and getting ready for your whirlwind wedding you’ll have no time to worry about Gareth.”

  “That makes no sense. I mean, wouldn’t whoever planned this wonder about that? I mean, one moment, I’m saving Gareth’s butt, the next I’m Ms. What-Type-Of-China-To-Pick-Out? It’s not credible.”

  Dr. Marlowe exchanged a look with Malachi. “She does have a point. I know you want to keep her safe, too, but—”

  “Oh please, tell me this is not a ploy to keep me out of trouble. Malachi, you know that’s so not going to happen. This is my job. It’s what I do. I can’t just quit cold turkey because you’re worried.”

  Kira caught Malachi’s hand in one of hers. “Look, I know you care, truly care. But, if you don’t let me do what I was trained to do, you might as well pull my fangs. I can’t just sit around and wait while you and others do my job. I promise I’ll be careful, okay?”

  Malachi literally growled, his fangs peeked out, and he inhaled and exhaled a couple of times before speaking. “All right, young lady, but the next time you come this close to dying on my watch, I’ll pull you off the presidential detail so quick you’ll be dizzy. I’ll not have your death on my conscience. I promised your granddaddy I’d look out for you.”

  Kira’s eyes burned with tears. Grandpa Jackson was getting some age on him for a vampire. She didn’t want to do anything to cause him distress. He’d almost gone off the deep end when her father was killed.

  “Okay, I understand, and I’ll be extra careful.”

  “See that you do. Now, if my ears don’t deceive me, I believe I hear Gareth headed this way. By the sounds of his footsteps, his patience is at an all-out end.”

  * * * *

  Gareth strode down the hospital corridor, his steps determined. He had to see Kira. Malachi’s reasoning for not allowing him to see her before now made sense, but he didn’t like it, and he certainly wouldn’t be commanded again. Not if it meant he had to be separated from Kira. The woman was his life. Words couldn’t describe how he’d felt when he’d seen the knife in Kira’s chest.

  “Mr. President, how is Agent Jackson?”

  Ryan Simmons’s question hit Gareth right between the eyes. How the hell would he know? Malachi called and said Kira was out of surgery and her condition was guarded. What in the hell did that mean?

  “I have no time for questions now, Simmons. The hospital will be releasing a statement shortly.” He never slowed his pace, but kept walking.

  “Sir, but if I could—”

  That stopped him in his tracks. “Could what? Take back all the shit you mouthed off about my fiancée? Would you do that, Ryan? All you’ve done is mak
e a mockery out of a relationship that’s none of your damn business. Now, a woman’s lying in a hospital bed because she did her job. Does that answer your question as to why she’s allowed to guard me at night or anytime?”

  “Sir…I…uh…”

  “I suggest in the future, you stay far away from me and Kira. If you don’t, I’ll be making a call to your television network. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Mr. President.” Ryan’s eyes were wide open in shock..

  Good, about time the press discovered he had a temper. Maybe it would keep them off his back, and Kira’s, for awhile. Awhile? Lord, he hoped there would be awhile. He just needed to see her. To make sure she would survive.

  Two agents stood outside Kira’s room. Gareth nodded at both of them before he reached out and pushed the door open. The sight greeting him almost brought him to his knees. Kira lay motionless as death, her features pale as a new moon. His steps slowed. Did she breathe? Did her chest rise and fall, ensuring life inside her fragile body?

  “Malachi?”

  “She’s going to live, Gareth. Dr. Marlowe”—Malachi waved toward a man Gareth hadn’t noticed when he entered the room—“will tell you more about her condition before he makes a statement.”

  “Dr. Marlowe?”

  “Mr. President, your agent was severely injured, but she’s going to be fine, as Mr. King said. She’ll need to stay here a couple of days and then be monitored after she goes home.”

  Gareth looked toward Malachi. “Agent Jackson will be staying with me. Our wedding’s in less than two weeks. I don’t think the public can say any more than some of the reporters and network people already have.”

  “I agree, despicable lot, some of them.”

  “Yes, and one in particular is dogging my steps. I told him I’d call his network if he kept on, but please make sure no one enters this room unless it’s okayed by myself or Malachi.”

  “Of course, sir, we’ll make certain your fiancée isn’t disturbed.”

  “Thank you. Now, gentlemen, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like a few minutes alone with Kira.”