Enzo’s eyes flashed and his fangs lengthened as he stepped toward Natalie.
Lucien braced a hand against the guardian’s chest.
“Where is the cure?” the guardian asked in an obvious attempt to intimidate.
“Back off, buster,” Natalie snapped, and Lucien’s eyebrows rose at her feisty manner. “I am the cure.”
Ah, damn. Lucien winced. He could understand Natalie’s desire to put his father’s guardian in his place—oh, he could so understand—but she’d picked a risky way to do it. He glanced around the lobby. Yep. They were now the center of attention. “Let’s go. Now.”
He turned toward the entrance but halted when two vampires approached, their eyes glowing. They’d heard the exchange. Hell, probably every damn person in the lobby had heard the exchange and now knew Natalie was the cure for a lycan’s bite.
He pulled Natalie behind him as the vampires launched toward them. His teeth lengthened and suddenly Enzo was at his side as they took on the attackers. He dodged the first punch, grabbed the vamp’s neck and twisted. The vampire hit the ground with a thud and Lucien turned to take on his next opponent. He shoved Natalie behind a white marble column, staying her hand when it rose to the silver lariat chain around her neck. He shook his head. If she tried to fight them, she became more of a target, and with this many vampires, could wind up getting hurt. If they believed she was the cure, that could ensure her safety.
He ducked a punch and lashed out with a kick. Enzo dispatched a couple of vampires, and Lucien had just enough time to notice Heath running in the front door, his face grim as he saw what was happening inside the lobby of his hotel.
More vampires came out of the bar, their eyes locked on Natalie.
“Son, let me help. Enzo and I can get her out of here, if you and Heath can hold them off long enough,” Vincent offered urgently.
Lucien gritted his teeth, his gaze meeting Natalie’s as he caught the kick aimed at his solar plexus and twisted, popping the ankle of his assailant and throwing him to the ground. She shook her head slightly as she peered around the column.
A vampire snuck up behind her and, before Lucien could do or say anything, grabbed hold of her hair. Natalie squealed, clutching the hand. She stomped on his foot, punched him in the groin, and then did this neat little dip-and-twist thing that had her turning under his arm, hand still attached to her head. He heard the arm break from where he was, heard the vampire scream, only for it to be cut off when Natalie rammed his head into the marble column. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Lucien didn’t want her hurt and although she possessed a strength that rivaled most, there were too many vampires here. After nearly losing her at Mount Solitude, then dying on her in the Red Desert, he wasn’t prepared to put her in any further danger.
“Think of Vivianne,” his father urged, stepping out of harm’s way as a vampire came barreling past. “She needs the cure.”
Lucien growled. Damn it. He had to choose between his sister’s life and his primal need to protect Natalie. Well, maybe he could have both. If Natalie went with his father, she would be removed from this situation and his sister would receive her cure.
“Go,” he called out, jerking his head toward the door.
She blanched. “You want me to leave? With your father?”
He eyed his father. “He’ll look after you,” he said loudly, and his father nodded his agreement. “Go, save Vivianne. I’ll come as soon as I can.”
Enzo grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the entrance. Heath smashed a vampire in the face, pushing him out of their way as Vincent followed closely behind. Lucien watched as they ran out of the building, Natalie glanced over her shoulder, her expression worried, before Heath stepped in front of the door and caught a pursuing vampire in a headlock, effortlessly snapping the man’s neck and tossing him off to the side.
* * *
Natalie allowed herself to be tugged along, running down the steps toward a waiting limousine. Vincent climbed in first and Enzo pushed her in, quite roughly, actually, and followed close behind, slamming the door and yelling instructions to the driver. Natalie fell back against the seat as the driver took off with a squeal of tires and the gate to the tunnel started to open.
“That will buy us some time,” Enzo stated as he settled on the seat closest to the door. “Any vamps who come out while the gate is open will be vaporized.”
Natalie weaved over to the seat that ran along the length of the vehicle, grasping a seat belt to prevent being thrown around the car.
“Good, then we can relax,” Vincent said and smiled at Natalie. “Make yourself comfortable, dear.”
She buckled herself into the seat belt, bracing her hands against the leather on either side of her. She looked up just in time to see Enzo withdraw a gun. She didn’t even have time to scream before she felt a familiar burn in her side and she grasped instinctively at the cartridge protruding from her skin. She pulled it out and held it up to look at it. She had time for one thought before the haze took her under.
Another friggin’ tranquilizer.
* * *
Lucien grimaced as he snapped the vampire’s neck and let him fall. His shoulders sagged as he gazed around the lobby. There were bodies strewed everywhere.
Heath stalked over, an unconscious vampire slung over his shoulder. He dropped him unceremoniously on a pile of bodies by the bar entrance.
The discrete beep of a phone echoed through the lobby. “Rafferty’s Roost, how may I help you?”
Heath turned and gave his receptionist a thumbs-up. “Love your work, Kayla.” He turned back and surveyed the mess, then gave a low whistle. “That was fun.”
Lucien stretched his neck. He had to agree. Since he’d awoken in that cave, he felt so damn alive, so hyper, and this had been a good way to work off some energy. Although working it off with Natalie was far more pleasurable. “They’re all going to wake up with sore heads tomorrow.”
Heath shrugged. “At least they’ll wake up. Come on, let’s grab a drink.”
“Just a quick one, then I have to go meet Natalie.”
Lucien followed him into the now empty bar and sat on one of the stools as Heath vaulted over the bar.
“Whiskey, bourbon or cognac?”
“Whiskey.”
Heath poured them both a measure, then picked up his glass. He tilted his head. “Man, this is going to be an expensive visit for you.” He chuckled.
Lucien nodded. “Yep, but Natalie got out safe, that’s all that matters.”
Heath nodded. “Good for you.” He gazed through to the reception area and all its unconscious occupants. “Well, here’s to a good rumble at Rafferty’s,” he said. He tipped his head back and swallowed the contents of his shot glass.
Lucien followed suit, enjoying the slow burn down his throat, then frowned. “Sorry, Heath. I didn’t plan for this.”
Heath shrugged as he poured them each another drink. “Hey, shit happens. Although I’d dearly love to know how my reception got turned into a fight club.”
Lucien shook his head. “Dad didn’t want to go to a meeting room. He wanted to discuss what I’d managed to turn up, right there in the lobby.” He gestured casually past the pile of vampires still out cold. He sighed. “I’ll pay for the damages. Just put it on my tab.” He clinked his glass against Heath’s and they both drank the shot of whiskey.
Heath bared his teeth at the fiery liquid, then lined the glasses up again for another shot. “I’ll put it on your father’s tab,” he said, sloshing the whiskey into the glasses and then placing the bottle on the bar with a clunk.
Lucien frowned as he accepted yet another drink from his friend. “Why my father?”
Heath eyed him intently. “Because he was in this bar not two hours ago talking it up with that goon he calls a guardian,
and they were making no secret of the fact that you were out there looking for a cure for a werewolf bite. Drink.”
Lucien drank, then thunked his glass down on the bar. “Why would dear old Dad do that?” he wondered aloud. His father was a Reform senator. Keeping secrets and being discrete was second nature to him.
Heath shrugged. “Not my dad, not my problem.” He leaned his forearm on the bar. “Although, any other vampire would have to think twice about taking on the Marchettas if even a werewolf bite can’t hurt them... Hey, you don’t think he was trying to start a fight, do you?”
Lucien shook his head. “No,” he said, but he drew the word out slowly as he thought about it, gazing at the bar. His father’s actions screamed irresponsible, which wasn’t necessarily a word he’d associate with his father...but to do that intentionally? That was harsh. Cold. Now that sounded like his father. But why? Then he realized, and he felt like such a fool. A naive, gullible fool who’d just put his lover in harm’s way.
He looked up at Heath. “He wanted to separate us.”
Heath’s eyebrows rose. “Us? As in that pretty little ‘helper’ of yours?” he said, tweaking his fingers as though to parenthesize the word. “I’ve never seen you that way with another vampire, let alone a human. You love that chick.”
“I do, and now my father has her, and fully intends to kill her when she outlives her usefulness.”
“And what might that be?”
Lucien looked at his friend, trying to gauge how much he should tell him. After his assistance in getting Natalie out of the roost and away from a whole posse of marauding vamps, he felt maybe he could trust him with the truth.
“It’s about the cure. For Vivianne.”
Heath frowned. “You found something?” His eyes widened. “You found the cure?”
“Natalie is the cure.”
Heath gaped at him for a moment then poured another shot. “Something to celebrate.”
Lucien shook his head. “No, my father is just as much a threat to Natalie as these vamps here. I have to stop him.” Just the thought of Natalie being alone and at the mercy of Enzo, working on his father’s instructions, was enough to ignite a slow, simmering pot of rage inside him. Lucien was off the stool and halfway to the door when Heath whistled. He turned around and caught the keys Heath tossed to him.
“Take my car. It’s parked in the drive,” his friend said, and Lucien nodded. He leaped over the pile of vamps just outside the door. “And no dings or scratches, okay?”
Chapter 20
Natalie stirred, her eyelids flickering. White. Dark. White. Dark. Each time the white lasted a little longer until she could open her eyes without them drifting shut again. She stared up at the ceiling. So much white.
Her head throbbed and her mouth tasted like she’d dined on ash. She tried to sit up, but something stopped her. She looked down, frowning in confusion. Her legs and arms were strapped to a bed and there were a number of needles stuck into her skin. An IV port, connected to a cannula that had been inserted into the crook of her elbow, led to a little blood bag seesawing in a cradle scale. Her other arm was connected to a fluid drip. Her frown deepened as she glanced around the room. What the hell had happened? For a moment she thought she was back in that psych ward, when seeing dead people seemed weirder than being cured of cancer and coming back to life. She racked her brain, trying to make sense of the jumble inside.
The last thing she could remember was fighting the vampires at the roost and running out to the limousine with Lucien’s father and—Enzo. The dart, the pain in her side, the scary rush of darkness...she remembered.
She struggled against the restraints, gritting her teeth as the needles pricked and a little alarm sounded on one of the beeping machines next to the bed.
The door burst open and a man in a white coat rushed in, relaxing when he saw her trying to jostle the restraints. “I wouldn’t do that,” he cautioned, hastening over to her. He switched off the alarm and went to check on the IV line. He checked her cannula and she hissed when he adjusted the needle inside her arm. “See, we don’t want to knock anything out.”
He glanced down at her. “You’re a very interesting test subject, Ms. Stewart.”
“Segova,” Natalie corrected then winced as speaking made her feel like she’d swallowed razor blades and they’d caught in her throat.
“Oh, we know who you are,” he said, reaching for a jug and a glass with a straw on the table by the bed. He poured some water, then held the straw to her lips so she could slake her thirst. She eyed him as she sipped. His hair was graying at the temples, although he still had a youthful face. Handsome, if you liked freaky doctors. “Easy, there. Good girl. That will be the sedative wearing off. Not to worry, though, we’ve got you hooked up to a line and I can increase the dose. We thought we’d take it easy for the first donation.”
She shot him a dark look as he withdrew the straw and placed the glass back on the table. Donation implied free will on the part of the donor. She jerked at the restraint on her arm again.
“Let me go,” she said, relieved the words emerged smoother, louder. Firmer.
“No can do. Sorry,” the doctor chirped as he leaned over to pick up the chart at the end of her bed. “You are quite the find, Nina.”
“Natalie.”
He sighed then inclined his head. “If that’s what you’d prefer to be called. He lifted a page of her chart. “Your blood is like one serious hot mess. Did you know that? We’ve got markers for lycanism, vampirism, humanism and just a little nullification. There is damage, but the cells repair on a biochemical level. Truly unique.” He tilted his head. “You had cancer, didn’t you? When you were a kid? Chemo? Radiation therapy? That could explain the distortion. When you died and were revived, you deviated from the norm on so many levels.”
This guy knew way too much about her. It was creepy. She gazed around the room. Apart from her bed and the machines she was hooked up to, there was nothing else. No windows, no other doors except for the exit. Again, just like that damned psych ward.
“Where am I?”
The doctor smiled. “The Marchetta estate. Our very own research facility. Oh, by the way, we’re running some tests on your blood—obviously we’re not going to give it to Vivianne if there are going to be detrimental effects. Then, once we’ve assessed the success of that test, we’ll start harvesting properly.”
Her blood chilled in her veins. “Harvesting?”
The doctor nodded. “Why, yes. You might be a deviant breed, but you’re also a gift, Natalie. Your blood can help so many.”
Her chin dipped and she glared at him. “Did you just call me a deviant?”
The door opened and Vincent Marchetta walked in. His eyebrows rose when he met her gaze.
“Oh, our patient is awake.”
“I’m not your patient. Let me go.” She snarled. She didn’t care if this man was Lucien’s father, he was being a class-A douche.
“I can’t, I’m afraid. You’re far too valuable. If what my son claims is true, you’ve just given me quite an advantage among the vampires—and against the mangy mutts. The good doctor here believes your blood can be quite an effective vaccine for my breed.”
Natalie shook her head. “No. I don’t give my permission. Let. Me. Go.”
Vincent raised his eyebrows. “Permission?” he asked in a silky tone as he stepped toward the bed. “Consider this a down payment. My wife is dead because of you.” His words came out with barely leashed rage. So civilized yet with suppressed violence.
She gaped at the man and he smiled, his fangs lengthening as his eyes flashed briefly in warning. “What? You think I don’t know what my son does? Who he sees? He couldn’t lose a fight without me knowing before it happens. He certainly couldn’t visit a pathetic little human girl in the burbs without my allowing i
t. Do you think I don’t know where he was when his mother died? That I didn’t make it my business to find out? Imagine my surprise to see you pop up on the Marchetta radar again, forty years later.”
“Lucien won’t allow this,” Natalie insisted. “He’ll come looking for me.”
Vincent gave her a pitying look. “Oh, you actually think he cares for you. He tracked you down with the intention of using you, my dear. Of getting what we need out of you. You saw him back at the roost. He gave you to me. To save his sister. When it comes to his family, his loyalty will always trump any misguided romantic notion.”
Natalie blinked, trying to mask her hurt at his words. They echoed what she’d wondered as he’d agreed with his father back at the roost. Back in the cave, when he’d thought he was dying and that the cure they had wasn’t effective, he’d told her not to trust his father, and to run. Now, with her blood proving to be an effective remedy, she found herself strapped to a bed with a needle in her arm and Lucien nowhere in sight.
“I don’t believe you.” The words didn’t come out with the conviction she’d intended and Vincent Marchetta smiled.
“Yes, you do. You’re not normal, Natalie, or Nina, or whatever the hell you want to call yourself. You’re a deviant, a freak of nature who’s finally discovered her purpose is to serve others.”
He turned to the man in the white coat, as though bored with the conversation. “How long?”
The doctor glanced at his watch. “Well, we’re at the eight-hour mark now, so we’ll be introducing the antidote to the test subject within the hour. Would you like to watch?”
“I would,” Vincent said, nodding. “I have some things to attend to, so I’ll return later, Dr. Morton.”
Natalie’s gaze flicked to the doctor as Vincent left the room. “Dr. Morton?” she asked, a chill creeping over her.
He smiled as he jotted some notes on her chart and placed the pen in the folder’s clip. “That’s my name.”
Her mouth dried. “Uh, any relation to the Mortons in Devil’s Leap?” She kept her tone casual.
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