She fought him, her hands and arms covered with so much blood that Christian worried he was wrong, and she’d been shot after all. “I have to help him,” she cried over and over, while Christian ran his hands roughly over every inch of her, ignoring her attempts to push him away.
“Natalie, stop,” he snarled finally. “I can’t help him if you won’t let me!” He shook her slightly, trying to get her attention, until at last her vision seemed to clear, and she raised her eyes to his.
“Is he dead?” Her voice was shaking, terror lurking on the edges.
“No,” Christian said, the word hard and determined. “And he won’t be, either.” He turned to his lieutenant. “Marc, get our gear, but leave the Suburban. We’ll take Natalie’s car. Natalie?”
She was still shaking, but her voice was strong. “Yes?”
“Get in the car with Marc. Alon and I will be in the back.”
Marc jumped to obey him, understanding, without being told, that they needed to be gone before the police arrived. They’d want to take everyone in for endless questioning, and that never went well for vampires. And then there was Alon. If they stayed here, an ambulance would be called and he’d die before they reached the hospital. If he was to survive the night, it would not be as a human. And Christian didn’t want any witnesses to what some would see as a miraculous resurrection.
Natalie, too, seemed to recognize the necessity of a clean getaway. She leaned into her Prius and speedily flattened the back seats, then opened the rear hatch, so that Christian could climb inside. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but comfort wasn’t among his priorities right now. Marc helped him get Alon into the car, holding the bleeding human while Christian climbed into the tiny space, then easing him into Christian’s arms.
Closing the hatch, Marc quickly settled behind the wheel, next to Natalie, then drove away at top speed. Bystanders would assume they were rushing someone to a hospital. And in a way, they were. By the time the police discovered Alon was missing, he’d either be dead, or he’d be a vampire and beyond human authority.
NATALIE WATCHED numbly as Christian carried Alon into the house and disappeared down to the basement. Marc started to follow, but paused at the head of the stairs, his dark eyes full of compassion. “You should go ahead and clean up, then try to sleep,” he said kindly. “You won’t see either of them again tonight.”
“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, desperately needing to be useful.
“Not tonight, sweetheart. It’s all up to Christian now. But you know . . . he’s damn powerful. If anyone can save your friend, it’s him.”
She nodded, believing him, not only because he said it with such conviction, but because she knew Christian. Vampire or not, he was an honorable man. He’d do everything he could to save Alon. “Okay,” she said faintly. Marc turned and was gone.
Natalie stared at the empty space where he’d been and frowned unhappily. She had to accept that there was nothing for her to do. Not with Alon, at least. She had the files she’d copied from Anthony’s server, and she was way too wired from the night’s excitement to sleep. But it wasn’t the kind of wired that would lend itself to analytical thinking.
She made her way to the bedroom that she thought of as hers, wondering again how long it would be before Christian trusted her enough to admit her to the inner sanctum in the basement. What would it be like to sleep next to a vampire all day long? And what if she wasn’t tired? Would she be trapped down there anyway?
Thoughts chased each other around in her head until she turned on the light in the bathroom and got a look at herself for the first time since the attack. She closed her eyes, and fought the urge to gag. She was covered in blood, and none of it was hers. That fact nearly drove her to her knees. She began tearing at her clothes, wanting them off. There wasn’t enough cleaning product in the city of Houston to get all of that blood out. And even if she could, she’d never be able to wear any of them again.
Stripping down to skin, she left the clothes in a pile, and climbed into the shower. The events of this evening kept playing back in her head, and it wasn’t a flattering picture. She’d been scared out of her mind, and there was no denying it. Sure, she’d managed to fight off her attacker, but she’d been useless when it came to Alon. There’d just been so much blood! She’d never seen anything like it before.
Maybe that’s why Christian hadn’t even bothered to tell her “good night.” Or why he hadn’t spoken to her since they’d piled into her car. But what did he expect? She’d never even been close to anything like that before. The noise alone had been terrifying—roaring engines and screeching tires, the guns and the screams! It wasn’t anything like the movies. It was just unrelenting noise. A barrage of sound that had hurt her ears, and scraped every nerve raw until she could barely think. And then there’d been Alon, lying on the ground, surrounded by a growing pool of blood . . . and her brain had simply gone blank.
She sank to the floor of the shower, knees hugged to her chest, wishing for Christian’s powerful arms, for the strength of his big body wrapped around her, keeping her warm, keeping her safe. She tightened her jaw and drew a deep breath. “Suck it up, Nat,” she said. Christian had no time to hold her fucking hand. He was too busy saving Alon’s life.
She climbed to her feet, and finished washing away the blood, then shampooed and rinsed her hair twice before she was satisfied it was clean. She dried herself off and pulled on her sweats to sleep in. Her usual little nightgown made her feel too vulnerable today. She slid under the covers and lay there, listening to every creak and crack in the big house. She wondered if they had any alcohol in the kitchen. A glass of wine might help relax her enough to sleep. Otherwise she didn’t see how . . .
Sleep took her between one breath and the next.
Chapter Ten
ALON WAS LYING next to him when Christian woke the next night. As a new vampire, he wouldn’t wake for a while yet, but that first awakening would be hard. This was true for every new vampire, but it would be especially traumatic for Alon, given the violence of his near death, and the abrupt nature of his transition. He would need blood, and not just any blood either. Only Christian’s blood would suffice tonight. First, because it cemented the bond between vampire and Sire. But in this case, there was a more important reason; Alon would need the healing strength that only a powerful vampire like Christian could give him.
Christian had some time before that happened, though. Younger vampires rose from their enforced sleep much later than their elders. Strength was a factor in that, too, but there was no way of knowing how powerful Alon would be, this early in his new life. As a vampire lord—or at least as a vampire powerful enough to be a lord—Christian woke as soon as the fireball of the sun dropped below the horizon, despite the light still burning across the sky. That gave him at least two hours before Alon would wake enough to need him.
Swinging his legs off the bed, he sat up and searched the house with his vampire-enhanced senses. Marc was just beginning to wake; another fifteen minutes and he’d be fully alert. Upstairs, Natalie slept, but not well. Her mind was restless, and he suspected if he went to her, he’d find her emotions in turmoil, as well. It didn’t exactly surprise him. Last night had been troubling by anyone’s standards. What did surprise him was that she was still here at all. She hadn’t lived the kind of life that exposed her to this level of violence, and he’d half expected her to be on a plane back to the bayou, where she’d never again have to deal with vampires, and most especially not with him.
Of course, there was Alon to consider. Maybe she’d only hung around to make sure he was okay.
Christian took a quick shower and pulled on a T-shirt and jeans, going commando, and leaving his feet bare. There was no need to dress more formally, he’d be back here soon enough. He checked to be sure Alon was still resting peacefully, then opened his bedroom door. Marc emerged into the hallway a moment later, still wrapped in a towel from his own shower.
“Keep an eye on him,” he told Marc, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to check on Natalie.” He started for the closed vault door. It wouldn’t open until he entered the security code.
“You think she heard what Weiss said about Anthony?” Marc asked “About him wanting her alive?”
Christian frowned. “If she didn’t, she’ll figure it out. It’ll be better if I tell her up front. She’ll be pissed otherwise.”