by Мишель Роуэн
Every few steps, Quinn would stumble. He had his arms wrapped around himself. He looked like a drunk, or a vagrant, or somebody most normal people would stay well clear of. Definitely a good idea at the moment.
She touched the fang marks at her neck and flashed back to how it felt when that monster had bitten her.
She'd thought she was going to die. One misstep, one big mistake, and that's all it took. If you didn't watch your back at all times, some scary thing was going to sneak up behind you and tear you to pieces.
The scary thing she was currently surveying ducked down another alleyway. She slipped into the shadows and watched as he approached a red metal door lit by a street-lamp. He pounded on it, then waited a moment, bracing one hand against the side. He pounded again. And again.
And then he kicked it. Kind of a pathetic weak kick.
Then he swore and slid down to the ground.
She approached and noticed he was now sweating. His face was ashen.
He looked up at her after a moment. His eyes were still black.
"I think they're closed," he said, and then laughed quietly and hopelessly.
"We're going back to the motel."
"Didn't I tell you not to follow me?"
"I don't think you're quite getting the whole 'I don't listen to you' thing."
"I'm learning."
She offered him a hand. "Come on."
He shook his head and stared at her with black eyes. "Don't touch me."
"I'll have you know I'm a lot stronger than I look. I can carry you if I have to."
He snorted at that. "That's hot."
"Stop being a child, and let's go."
He went very still. "If you come near me, I will bite you. I can't control myself right now. I need blood."
"We'll deal with that."
"You are the most stubborn person I've ever met."
"Right back at you. On your feet."
She wasn't sure for a moment if he would or not. But then, very slowly, he rose to stand. She looked up at him warily.
"I don't feel very good," he admitted.
"It's called death throes. Seriously, Quinn, why are you starving yourself? I thought you'd be smarter than that."
He gave a weak shrug, then grimaced as if it hurt.
His face was so pale, even in the darkness, and coated with a fine sheen of perspiration. His chest moved in and out with labored breathing. And his eyes were fully black—no whites at all.
She shook her head. "Come on."
She hustled down the street back to the bar. She left the car she'd hotwired there. The police would probably pick it up in the morning and return it to whomever she'd borrowed it from. No harm done.
"Keys?" She motioned impatiently to Quinn.
He pulled the keys to the other borrowed vehicle out of his pocket and threw them to her. His hand was shaking.
"Go back to the motel," he said. "I'll meet you there. Seriously, Janie, it's not a good idea for me to ride with you. Not the way I'm feeling."
"Yeah. Way ahead of you, handsome."
He gave a small snort at her choice of words. "Smart girl. Just leave me here."
"No, that's not what I meant." She eyed the truck. "You're riding in the back. Try to keep your head down, or you'll get bugs caught in your fangs."
Fifteen minutes later, they arrived back at the motel. Janie parked the truck and got out quickly. Not quickly enough, though. Quinn jumped off the back and, without a word, ran to his motel room, slamming and locking the door behind him.
What the hell was she supposed to do with a starving vampire who wouldn't eat anything? This wasn't exactly her area of expertise. She was used to staking troublesome vamps, not becoming their personal dietician. There wasn't any time for an intervention. No time to head to the hospital and get a bag of blood. No time to get animal blood. And forget about the synthetic variety—at Quinn's stage of the game, he needed the real stuff and he needed it soon.
Or he was going to die.
A small voice in the back of Janie's mind whispered that it didn't matter if he died. After all, the only thing she needed him for in the first place was safely tucked away in her pocket. She was now wasting time looking after somebody who didn't even want her help.
If she walked away now she'd have that much more time to follow the map to the Eye and get to her
Boss tomorrow in Vegas. Not much time, but enough.
Keeping an eye on the closed door to Quinn's room, she fished into her handbag to grab her cell phone.
"Lenny," she said when he picked up after the eighth ring. "You better have a good explanation why your phone was on voice mail before."
"Janie?" Lenny replied, having to raise his voice above the loud music in the background of wherever he currently was. "Where are you?"
"That doesn't sound like an explanation to me. I needed you. You said you'd be at the motel and you weren't here. Why didn't you call me back?"
"Uh… I'm really sorry. I didn't even realize my phone was off until a minute ago. I was hoping you were doing okay."
"Hoping?" She tried not to raise her voice. "Oh, yeah, I'm doing just great."
"Oh, that's good."
She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. No reason to freak out on Lenny. She was fine. He was fine. Everyone was just fine.
Well, except for Quinn, of course.
"I'm at the motel," she said after another moment. "And where are you?"
"Uh… we're around the corner at a place called Tails & Rails. Barkley insisted we stay a bit longer than
I wanted to. Sorry."
She blinked. "You're at a strip club?"
He cleared his throat. "Um. It was Barkley's idea."
She exhaled slowly. "I don't want to know."
"I'm leaving right now. I can meet you in five, maybe ten minutes?"
"No, no, forget it. It's okay. Listen, I've got the map. We'll go get the Eye first thing tomorrow. There's a restaurant attached to the motel here. I'll meet you in the morning at seven-thirty."
"You sound worried. Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Fine. It's just… Quinn's not well."
"So?"
She bit her bottom lip. "Right. Yeah. I don't care. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Good night."
She hung up.
He was right. She shouldn't care about the vampire. Shedidn't care. Besides, you could offer advice and help, but if somebody wouldn't take it, well, then they were just stubborn enough to die.
In agony.
Wounded.
All alone.
In a crappy roadside motel.
Thank God she'd lost her compassion years ago working for the Company. A total burden that would be in her line of work. Start to feel sorry for the monsters and what did that get you?
A whole mess of trouble.
Janie already had enough trouble to deal with.
She'd learned that lesson the hard way. One of her first assignments had been to infiltrate a black magic organization run by a dark wizard. The wizard had been handsome, and much more charming than she would have expected. She'd fallen for the guy and knew that he'd cared for her in return. As soon as her cover was blown, all hell broke loose. The wizard had turned on her and tried to kill her, but she'd killed him first, an act that succeeded in shattering her heart into a million pieces. Which, in the end, worked out fine, because her heart had been more of a liability than an asset. She'd prided herself on her cool, calculated decisions ever since that lapse in judgment.
She wasn't going to make a mistake like that again by caring for the wrong person at the wrong time.
A nice solid night of sleep would do her well.
Yes, sleep. Very good.
And that's exactly what she'd get—right after she dealt with Quinn.
Dammit.
She marched up to his door and knocked. "Quinn? Let me in."
No answer.
She knocked again. "Hello?"
"Go away," c
ame the weak answer.
"Do you want to die?"
"Not really having a problem with that outcome. Go away."
"Quinn, let me in right now, or else."
To that she didn't get any answer at all.
She hissed out a long breath. Instead of getting more worried, she was getting pissed. Since when did her empty threats get so completely ignored?
"I'm giving you to the count of five," she warned the locked door.
It didn't answer.
"One, two…"
She listened.
"Three."
Well, at least he wasn't laughing.
"Four."
Or maybe he'd already passed out.
"Five."
She braced herself and kicked the door, pleasantly surprised that it swung inward on the first try. Lousy craftsmanship. And for fifty bucks a night? Not great security.
She peered inside.
The room was pitch-black.
She stepped over the threshold. "Quinn?"
"That was a mistake."
"I think you have me confused with some weak floozy who's scared of the dark." She stepped deeper into the interior of the room.
The door slammed shut and she jumped.
No, she wasn't nervous. Not at all. However, it would be nice to have a little light so she could pinpoint exactly where the starving, injured vampire was standing.
"So, what now, Janie?" he asked quietly from the darkness. "Are you offering yourself to me? Are you baring your neck to me so I won't die?"
Her eyebrows raised. Was that what she was doing?
"I'm sure we can think of something to help you—"
A hard-muscled body flew at her, grabbing her wrists and pressing her flat against the wall. She could hear his breathing, loud and irregular, the warmth of his breath against her face. She had a stake tucked into the back of her pants in a special stake holster—a Christmas present from Lenny—but she didn't make a move to try to grab it. Not yet.
Soon, probably. But not yet.
"Do you realize that I already know what you'd taste like?" He breathed against her neck. "Just by how you smell. It's my heightened senses. Usually it's so subtle I hardly notice it, but sometimes, like right now"—his lips grazed against her throat—"it's unbelievably overpowering."
Then she felt the wet heat of his tongue slide along the line of her neck, and something happened to her that she didn't like at all—something that scared her more than anything else that had happened that night.
Her damn knees weakened.
She was crushed up against a wall by a hungry vampire, who apparently already knew what her blood would taste like, and it wasturning her on .
How completely embarrassing.
Even though she knew what it felt like to get bit—and how very close to death (or worse) she'd come last time something like this had happened—all she wanted Quinn to do was sink his fangs into her.
His fangs. Yes. Just his fangs.
He continued to tease her neck. "Got nothing to say?"
"You want to bite me?"
He groaned. "Oh, yes."
"I thought you said you'd never bitten anyone before."
His shoulders stiffened. "I haven't."
"Do it."
"What?"
"Bite me. Just… try not to take too much."
His breathing became even more erratic. "What am I doing? What are you saying to me? This isn't right.
Go away, Janie. Just go away."
He pulled away from her. Her eyes had become adjusted enough that she could see the outline of him in the darkness.
And he thoughtshe was stubborn?
She wasn't going to let him die out of principle and misplaced morals.
She slipped off her jacket and pulled her tank top off over her head until she was standing there in the dark in her tight black jeans and lacy black bra, her neck and shoulders now completely exposed to the air. She closed the distance between them and grabbed his face, pulling it down to her neck.
"Bite me or I'm going to kick your ass," she hissed.
"You're such a sweet talker, Janie."
For a moment she thought he was going to pull away again, and that would have been it. She would have realized what a crazy, dangerous thing it was she was doing and grabbed her shirt and run away to her own room. Figured out a plan B, as it were.
But that wouldn't be necessary.
The scent of her bare skin was enough to do it. She felt him press against her, aroused now with more than simple blood lust. He slid the bra strap off her left shoulder, then his hands traveled down the bare skin of her back. He pulled her closer against the hard length of his body, flattening her breasts against his chest. Just as she was adjusting to how surprisingly good he felt against her, she felt his fangs pierce her skin.
She started, gasping with the sudden pain but remembering that she'd offered this. This was her idea.
She twisted her hands into his hair and held his mouth to her in case he tried to pull away again before he got enough blood to help him. His hands kneaded the backs of her upper thighs, actually raising her off the ground as he fed from her. She wrapped her legs around his waist.
A small sound escaped from him. A satisfied, aching groan as he ground his body against her.
She knew that it took five minutes until the toxins exuded from a vampire's fangs were enough to offset the balance of human blood and infect that human with vampirism. Janie counted, trying to concentrate,
deciding to hold on and let him feed for three full minutes. That should be enough. Then she would make him stop any way she could.
She didn't need to. He stopped at just after two minutes and then ran his tongue over the wound he'd made on her neck. The feel of his mouth was making her writhe against him, only then realizing that they were now horizontal in the dark, on top of the soft motel bed, and her bra had somehow magically disappeared. His mouth moved downward, along her collarbone. He kneaded her breasts in his hands,
and her back arched off the bed.
"Janie…" he murmured, as he captured her right nipple in his mouth.
She gasped.
Feeding vampires was a good thing, she decided. Especially this one. He was wonderfully grateful.
Besides, she was probably light-headed from the blood donation, and there was no orange juice or
Oreos in sight. She should really keep lying down for… an hour or two.
Possibly longer.
He moved back up her body and kissed her mouth, thrusting his tongue against hers in a way that made her moan against his mouth. Even the slight coppery taste of her own blood on his lips did nothing but make her body tighten and ache for more of him.
The door crashed inward.
"Janie! Are you in here?" Lenny yelled.
A light came on just before the lamp smashed to the floor. Lenny grabbed Quinn and pulled him off of her. She quickly moved to cover herself.
Not that anyone was looking. Lenny was busy beating the crap out of Quinn.
Barkley stood at the doorway, with eyes wide. He glanced at her.
"Oh, my God," he said, noting with horror the blood on her neck. "What did he do to you? Quinn! What did you do?"
She grabbed for her clothes and put them on so fast she got tangled up and almost tripped. Then she ran over to grab Lenny's arm to stop him from hitting Quinn, who'd gone silent and still in the half darkness.
"Stop it, Lenny," she yelled. "Don't hurt him."
With a fervent glance at Quinn, she pulled Lenny with her out of the room.
Lenny turned around and growled, "Come near her again and you're dead, vampire. You're dead!" He turned to Janie once they left the room. "Thank God I got back. He nearly had you."
"Yes," Janie said. "Yes. That he did."
For some reason, "Thank you" were not the words that came to her mind at the moment.
Chapter 10
Quinn was curled up in the corner of the room, his knees pull
ed tight to his chest, his hands covering his face. Barkley sat on the edge of the bed waiting for him to say something. Patient, that werewolf was.
Very patient. He didn't want to look up to see the expression on his face, though. He knew already what he'd see.
Disgust. Shame. Fear.
All the things that Quinn was feeling himself.
Why hadn't she stopped him?
He was truly lost now. He'd gone over the one line he'd kept for himself. The line that he felt kept him remotely human.
It was his own fault. He shouldn't have gone so long without blood. Why did he think he was special?
Any stronger than the rest of them? He'd waited too long, and now he was paying the price.
She acted all tough and strong and as if she was nobody to mess with, but he'd been able to feed from her.
She might have thought it was her idea—what in the hell had she been thinking?—but he was the one who'd taken her like an mindless animal.
Christ. She'd tasted so good. He'd known she would. And it hadn't been just that… if that wasn't bad enough. He would have taken her in more ways than just her blood if Lenny hadn't stopped him.
Janie must hate him now even more than she already did.
He screwed his eyes shut tighter.
"Quinn," Barkley's quiet voice finally broke through his wall of self-hatred. "You okay?"
He forced himself to look up. Barkley looked back at him with the strangest expression. Concern? Why the hell did he look concerned?
"I bit her," he said simply, his voice strained.
"Yeah. I managed to figure that out already."
"I drank her blood."
"Well, youare a vampire."
He grimaced. "I hurt her."
"She didn't look all that hurt to me. A couple of Band-Aids and a cold shower and I think she'll be fine."
"Don't try to make me feel any better."
"Quinn, I know you're not feeling great right now, but—"
"No, you're wrong. Ido feel great. I feel fantastic, better than I have in days." He laughed, but it sounded dry and desperate. "I got what I needed."
"Well, then it's all good."
"No, it's not. I need to get that Eye. It's my only hope."
