He didn’t think Petro would be of any help. And he didn’t want to jeopardize his existence. Yet he would chance ours. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through. But I won’t risk my sisters’ safety.”
Misha’s gray eyes darkened. “They are already at risk, Celia. You just fail to see it. My downfall alone will not end the bloodlust.”
Hank, the vampire witness from court, came to stand by us. At first, I thought he was attempting to strong-arm me into helping Misha, but he didn’t even glance in my direction. “Forgive me for disturbing you, Master.”
Misha kept his eyes on me. “What is it?”
“Aric Connor is on the phone. He wishes a word with you.”
“The mongrel can wait. Do not interrupt me again.”
The “mongrel” apparently heard him. Cursing and growling in a strangely familiar timbre erupted from the cell phone. My inner beast jerked and I rubbed my chest, expecting it to hurt. I didn’t know this Aric guy, but he obviously didn’t fear Misha.
Hank disconnected the call and stalked away. Misha leaned back in his seat, unaffected. He tapped a finger against the table, apparently considering what to say. Several awkward seconds passed before he spoke again. “Celia, you are so young. You cannot fathom what it is to watch your family die.”
I swallowed hard. “Actually, I can.” He frowned, but his eyes softened upon taking in my appearance. My back was rigid, my fists clenched, and I readied to pounce. Everything about me screamed, Fight, attack, maul—everything—except my eyes. Recalling my parents’ deaths betrayed the sadness I always kept hidden, an emotion I refused to allow Misha to witness. “You put us through hell, Misha. You can’t expect flowers and gifts and flirting to erase such a threat. Just as you can’t expect us to drop everything to help your cause.”
I stood to leave, but not before Misha clasped my hand and kissed it. “Make certain the decision you reach is a just one,” he whispered. It wasn’t a threat—at least, I didn’t take it that way. They were more the words of a desperate man, or, as I reminded myself firmly, a desperate vampire.
CHAPTER 6
My sisters arrived home from the hospital shortly after my run. I failed to find the wolf again. Any other gal would have moved on. But I wasn’t any other gal. And those dreamy brown eyes belonged to no mere man.
Taran yanked off her scrubs in the middle of our family room, anxious to get out of her work clothes. I’d once overheard a coworker making fun of us for being nurses. “God, they are so codependent,” she’d complained. “They can’t even have separate careers.”
Screw her. She didn’t know becoming nurses at a young age helped Taran and me gain custody of our sisters following the death of our foster mother.
Emme moved slower than usual, appearing lost in her thoughts. “You okay, Emme?” I asked.
She nodded. “Mr. Luther died today.”
Emme cared for the terminally ill. She used her gift to grant her patients a peaceful good-bye. And with her honey blond hair, fair skin, and soft green eyes, perhaps her patients envisioned her as their own personal angel welcoming them into heaven.
“I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“It’s okay. He’s been telling me he was ready to go and see his wife.” She lay on the couch with me and leaned her head against my shoulder as I hugged her. “Shayna had a delivery today. It’s a reminder, you know. Life does go on.”
Shayna grinned my way. “The family said you delivered their first child and wanted me to tell you hi.”
Shayna’s positive and cheerful personality made her the ideal person to help women through the stress and pain of labor. My favorite part was the delivery. I loved babies. The best part of my job was handing a mother her child for the first time. But it also made me a little sad. Children in my future didn’t seem possible without a father.
Taran swore as she undid her hair. “If I ever consider working an extra shift, just shoot me. Some idiot overbooked the cardiac lab by three patients. And I was the only one who could start an IV. Seriously, what are they teaching these bitches in nursing school these days?” Out of all of us, Taran seemed an unlikely Florence Nightingale. But she knew her stuff. And after taking care of our foster mother, she had a soft spot for the elderly.
Taran took the last pin out of her hair and fluffed her dark waves against her shoulders. “What did you do today, Ceel?”
“I went out with Misha. Bloodlust has plagued his home. He’s had to kill twelve of his vampires, but not before one drained his poor human maid. He has until the next full moon to discover the cause or be sentenced to death. Oh, and get this: He wants me to help him kill the master vampire he thinks is responsible.”
Nothing like a little supernatural drama to shut up a bunch of chatty girls.