Kira shook her head. “That’s not possible.” The medicine she took was for depression, but it wasn’t called Nortriptyline, and the other was a pain killer.
“Are you questioning me?”
Trace fisted his hands. He had enough of the human.
“Again, on a scale to ten.” The doctor demanded an answer.
Asshole. This man fit the exact type of human he would enjoy hunting. Instead, he touched the idiot’s mind. A mental nudge and the intern felt the urgent need to leave. Trace increased the pressure hoping the jerk left before he did something the Poryria would put him away for.
The intern stopped; his face blank of any emotions. “I must leave.” He turned and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Kira scratched her head and struggled to sit. She gave up and rested back on her elbows instead. The confusion etched clearly on her face. “I was going to say five,” she mumbled, and then eased onto the pillow, placing her hands across her eyes.
Trace thought about the drugs. She said she hadn’t taken the drug the doctor had mentioned. Something didn’t sit right. Her knowing his name didn’t sit right either. Was it possible that he’d connected with her dreams? With a human, that was unheard of. Maybe she recalled hearing it when Mike had said it on the embankment.
Kira yawned.
Trace took that as his cue to leave. He’d visit her again tomorrow night. As wrong as it was, he couldn’t stay away.
*******
Moments later, he materialized and stormed into his kitchen. A Poryria ability he easily performed as long as he knew the area where he wanted to appear. He found Mike stuffing his face with old pizza he’d found on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator.
Mike fixed his gaze on him. “You went to see her again. Didn’t you?”
Trace ignored him while he strode to the kitchen bar and poured himself a glass of red wine. Normally, he’d offer his brother a glass. Not tonight. He needed the entire bottle himself. No stale pizza on his agenda. He had things to figure out.
“Like I thought. What is with you, man?”
Trace hadn’t gotten involved with humans since Jessica. Therefore, Mike was bound to freak out a little. Trace hadn’t involved himself in “anyone’s” life in a long time.
“None of your fucking business. Leave it alone!” He stopped, let his head fall back and sighed. Shit. “Sorry. Just let up, will ya?” He stepped into the living room and set the glass of wine on the marble table splashing the liquid over the side. “Damn it.”
Mike followed. “I’ll butt out, but I don’t understand why you went to see her. You never liked being around anyone other than family. And then, you hate to be around us too. You’re a loner, Trace.” He paused. “Maybe you should leave it that way. Let her be.”
Family? Hell, Mike was all he had left. He didn’t consider his kind his family. “Maybe.” But his dreams. Had she joined him in his dreams? Did they have a bonding that he’d always thought impossible for a human? Only bonded mates could blend dreaming. He couldn’t bond with her. He had to be mistaken.
Trace slouched deep into the brown leather couch. Mike didn’t need a verbal reply. His mind-reading abilities told him what he wanted. But if Trace didn’t understand what was going on and why he wanted to help this human, then Mike sure the hell wouldn’t know either.
She was human. He was a Poryria Guardian. He hunted rogue creatures. Creatures humans should fear the most. Even he could turn rogue at the slightest—No! He wouldn’t think that way. He hadn’t given up the fight yet.
He lifted his drink and swallowed, soaking in the alcohol as it slid down to his bitter, empty stomach. The warmth manifested through his entire body. He accepted it was only temporary. Like everything else that came into his world. His life resembled the old pizza Mike crammed down his throat. Stale and cold.
Chapter 3
The monitor beeping above her head annoyed her, and her stomach lurched every time a page blared through the intercom. The unbearable sterile stench of the hospital burned her nose. She plumped the flat pillow beneath her head. Was there any way she could sneak out and escape? Maybe find a place where there were no memories and no Jeff. Some place where she could possibly try to start over. Maybe find some purpose to life. But what?
She swallowed the pain burning in her throat. Only if she could get away from it all, away from the things that reminded her of Bre and Steve. Then maybe… just maybe…
For certain, as long as she stayed in this town, Jeff would not let up. He would not leave her alone. Every night he showed up and let himself in with the key Steve had given him. He scared her. She’d even tried changing the locks, but no one would help her. Calling the police on him would be useless as well, since Steve and Jeff had owned the house together before she’d come along. She’d have to fight for it through the courts, and Jeff would make her sell it anyway and then give him half the profit. The laws in Louisiana were crazy, and she wasn’t in a position to fight it.
The door eased open, and she raised her head. Speak of the devil. Jeff entered with a fake smile and pink roses in a green vase in his hand. “I thought these would cheer you up.”
She took a painful deep breath. They might have if they hadn’t come from him. Steve had always bought her pink roses and Jeff knew that. What the hell was his problem? “They don’t. I asked you not to come.”
Jeff stopped short from placing them on a shelf and turned. “I thought you loved pink roses.”
“That was long ago.” She avoided looking into his cold eyes.
The sharp image of Steve on their first date, pink flowers in hand, and a pretty heart shaped box flooded her memory. “You could put the petals in here once the roses die. If you want.” Steve had said with the sweetest smile she’d ever seen.
The painful reflection forced open a door she’d tried so hard to close. She’d actually wanted a new start for the first time since Bre and Steve had died. Why would Jeff do this to her? What right did he have to intrude on her and her memories this way? Damn him. Every time she tried to get on her feet, Jeff would knock them out from under her. He wanted her to stay depressed.
The fog cleared from her brain. Jeff had picked up her prescription last month. Had he switched them? Had he given her something else? Could it be he was the reason she climbed on top of that bridge? If he would stoop to that, he might do worse.
“Look, you don’t need to come here. I can take care of myself.”
He put the roses on a shelf and strode to her bed. “Yeah, look at the great job you are doing.” He took her hand in his. “I spoke to Social Services, and they are in the process of placing me as your guardian,” he said.
She wasn’t thinking straight. All she knew was she’d been placed in foster homes all her childhood and there was no way she’d allow the state to take over her life again. Never.
Kira sat stunned. He lied. They couldn’t do that. Could they? She wasn’t sure what was the truth. Maybe, he was bluffing. All she did was take her Paxil prescription to ease the depression and the Percocet on the day she jumped. Confused, she wasn’t sure what to do. She couldn’t react fast enough.
“I love you.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her wrist.
She yanked her hand from his grasp. “You? My guardian. Never.”
“You’re suicidal. The doctors have ordered a psychiatric test for tomorrow. After they evaluate you, they might release you to my care. With your depression, they won’t let you go home alone. They don’t want you to blow your brains out like Steve did.”
“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” Her head fell back on the pillow. Oh God. How could he talk about his dead brother so coldly? “I’m not going to kill myself unless they send me home with you.” He had to be telling her lies, but she couldn’t take a chance.
He acted as though he hadn’t heard a single word.
“Kira, I’ve always loved you. You should’ve never married my brother. You belong to me, and
one way or another, you will be mine.”
Kira clenched her fists. He needed mental help not her. “Listen Jeff. You won’t be my guardian. How can you sit here and say something so hateful about your own brother?” Her voice shook with rage.
The corner of Jeff’s mouth twitched, and then he smiled. “Steve never loved you. He felt sorry for you. A poor lost soul from a broken home. You jumped at the chance to marry him.”
“Get out!” She frantically searched for the nurse call button underneath the sheets. Her breath caught in her throat. Jeff’s insanity overwhelmed her. Where is the damn call button?
“Looking for this?” Jeff snatched the white button from her reach, and then dropped it to the side of the bed. He snapped his hand out and gripped her arm. Her lungs burned all the way into her throat.
“The papers are being drawn up by my lawyers.
There is nothing you can say that will make them believe you. Face it, you will be mine and you will love me.” He cocked his head to the side. “I will be back. That is a guarantee.” He held her hand in a vise-like grip and yanked it to his lips to seal his threatening promise.
*******
Trace appeared in her room, but kept his presence cloaked. He had to check on her before he hit the streets for the night. This night there would be no dreaming. No putting the world on hold while trying to figure out what the dreams might mean.
The council had shown up before he’d left home, demanding his and Mike’s attendance. The Vrykolakas had killed three humans in the last week. He wanted nothing to do with the Poryria Council lately, but to get them off his back, he’d have to find the Vry rogue and stop whoever hid behind the killings.
As much as he hated the Council, he hated the creatures even more. Ridding the streets of them was his job. The one thing he could count on and took pride in doing.
For as long as his kind had been around, they’d kept hidden in plain sight. A few humans knew of their existence. Most of their kind cloaked themselves as he did or bent human minds to make them forget what they’d seen.
Most of their powers were simple mind tricks, but their strength and other abilities were what separated them from humans. Each of them unique in their own way. His abilities were more enhanced than most of his kind; it was why he was chosen to lead most hunts. Super fast, strong and easily sensing the enemy from a mere burning on his arms.
A world of Poryria nestled tightly around the unknowing mortals. They kept the peace in a town full of people who hadn’t a clue. Fighting the creatures that humans knew nothing about.
Centuries of living with each other, yet apart. The Poryria had one Queen. One leader. She ruled over them, but hundreds of Guardians enforced her laws, demanding obedience. They were the police for rogue vampires, and humans too if they interfered. And they better not interfere if they wanted to live. The Queen would not be happy if she knew he watched over a human woman right now. Yet he couldn’t seem to stop himself.
He’d connected with Kira. Even if it was only in his dreams. In dreams they met on common ground, she wasn’t afraid. She opened up and he did as well.
They’d held each other, comforted each other. A feeling he would never forget. Heat had sizzled between them like a shot of warm whiskey awakening each nerve ending. He had to taste her.
Shaking off the memory, he realized the lights were off. All except for a faint glow coming from beneath the bathroom access. The bed lay empty. The door opened and Kira came out wearing khaki pants and a white shirt. The same clothing she had on when he pulled her out of the water. Was she going home? He watched her while she put a gown over her clothes and crawled back into bed.
What was she doing? Something was going on. If she planned to return to the river and jump—well, he wouldn’t allow it.
Someone knocked. She gasped and her hand flew to her chest. The door eased open. A nurse flipped on the light switch.
“Hey Kira, I heard they might be releasing you tomorrow or the next day.”
Kira. I’m here. Don’t go. You’ll be safe.
Kira glanced around the room. Then she blew out a breath when she saw the nurse.
Could it be possible she heard him?
“Yes. I’m ready to go home.” Her eyes lied. She didn’t want to go home.
The nurse paused while taking her vitals. Had she sensed the false tone? “Kira, honey. Was that man bothering you again?”
Trace froze. What man?
The nurse continued. “Because if you don’t want him around—” She left it at that.
Kira shook her head and bit her lip. “I’m fine. I’ll take care of it.”
Damn. Another lie. He noticed the creases in her forehead when she lied. Whoever this man was, Kira didn’t want him around her, and she’d planned to escape the hospital. The clothes underneath the gown now made sense.
Trace would put off his hunt for a little while, knowing he’d be reprimanded from the Queen. No way in hell he’d leave Kira alone right now. Not after the nights they had shared in his dreams. A connection so strong he couldn’t break free if he tried. He had to make sure she got out of here safely. Away from the man that clearly bothered her.
The nurse handed her a small white cup. “You take this. It will help you rest and ease the pain in your ribs.”
Kira grabbed the pill between her fingers and placed it on her tongue. She swallowed. “Thanks.” After the nurse left, Kira spit the pill in her hand.
Leaning against the wall, he realized she wouldn’t be going to sleep anytime soon and neither would he.
He waited in her room all night, until early the next morning. The sun had yet to rise. The chance he’d taken staying this late confused him. Why hadn’t he left before sunrise? He needed to replenish himself. He smelled her blood from clear across the room.
She slid out of bed and flinched, grabbing her side. The urge to help her tugged at him. She straightened and reached into the drawer next to the bed, pulling out a small purse. She glanced inside and grabbed something small, tucking it in her hand. A leather rope necklace dangled between her fingers. He recognized the purse from her car. The paramedics must have given it to the hospital staff when they picked her up.
She searched another drawer, pulling out a yellow phone book and thumbing through, finding the number she wanted and then dialed.
“I need a cab at Louisiana Meadowview hospital.” She paused. “Ten minutes. Okay.”
His chest constricted and his insides numbed. She was leaving. Why did the thought make him feel empty? He knew she couldn’t stay there where he could watch over her, but the thought of her going home alone, or even worse, to some asshole—he couldn’t bear to think of it. What if she tried to kill herself again? What if the jerk did it for her?
How could he stop her? He couldn’t appear in front of her out of thin air and say, “Hey. How are you? I’ve been in your room the whole time watching you.” That wouldn’t work.
He watched her cross the room and peek out of the door. She then glanced down the hall. When she snuck out he followed, keeping himself cloaked. He stayed beside her and observed her blank features and her will to blend in. That was something he did on a daily basis, appearing and disappearing just by thinking it. Only a matter of what humans chose to see.
She gasped, her eyes widened and her breathing became rapid. Trace glanced down the hall and saw a man walking in their direction. His blood began to boil at the thought of this man scaring her. A growl rumbled deep in his chest fighting for release.
The man marched toward Kira. His eyes narrowed. Who is he?
“Where the hell do you think you are going?”
Kira put her hand out. “I’m leaving.”
“You can’t leave. You haven’t been released.” The man gripped her arm and led her back to her room.
Damn it. Trace would take things into his own hands once they were back in her room. The man would need the bed for himself once Trace finished with him.
Trace followed behi
nd her closely. If the jerk lifted one hand, his ass would be his.
Suddenly, Kira bolted into a nearby laundry room. The man ran after her. Trace appeared in the room ready to intervene, but he kept himself unseen.
“Kira, stop playing games. You will come home with me when the doctors announce you unfit to take care of yourself. I’ll pay your bills don’t worry.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
The idiot’s cold eyes narrowed and then he laughed.
Kira darted around large commercial washing machines and dryers. She shoved a laundry cart in the guy’s path. The man lunged at the same time, tripping over sheets, landing on the floor. He cursed.
Impressed, Trace watched as she sprinted for the door and raced out of the room. He wanted to cheer for her. Bravo! Bravo!
One backward glance and she dashed out the door.
A smile tugged at his lips. The woman had spunk.
He had driven to the hospital last night. At least he had his cap and long sleeve shirt in the SUV for protection from the sun. His skin didn’t take to kindly to direct sunlight.
As she neared the Yukon, he transported himself into it. When she got closer, he opened the door and climbed out. His exposed neck tingled from the sunlight peeking through the partly clouded sky. Thankful for the temporary overcast, he still had to move before the sun shone full. Without a collar on, his skin wouldn’t look pretty.
While she fidgeted with her purse, she glanced up, blinked at his sudden appearance, and froze.
“Hi.” It was the only thing he could think to say. Idiot.
Her mouth and hazel eyes gaped wide.
“You’re—”
He cut her off. “I’m Trace.” Had she recognized him from the night he had saved her or was it from their dreams? Rubbing his legs, he didn’t know what else to say or do. An awkward moment hung between them. For an eternity, she stared at him before her legs buckled.
Not An Angel (A Poryria Vampire Novel (Book 1)) Page 3
