hesitation that told Mac it was only one of many questions the man had and he’d had to take a moment to prioritize them in his mind.
“A little low on blood still,” Mac admitted. “And not completely healed, but well enough I look fine on the outside. At least where my clothes aren’t covering me.”
“Right. I’ll have blood delivered to you right away. It should be there in an hour or so depending on how far you are from the nearest Argeneau blood bank.”
Mac licked his lips at the thought of it, but then breathed out with frustration and said, “That might be a problem.”
“Why?”
“Because . . .” He paused and turned to look toward the closed French doors to the salon, before continuing the turn until he was facing the window in the room. Walking to it, he checked to see that it would open, winced when it squealed in protest, and let it ease back down. He wasn’t surprised when there was a knock at the bedroom door and CJ asked, “Mac? Are you all right?”
“Fine,” he assured her. “I was just checking that the window locks.”
There was a moment of silence, and then she said, “Okay,” and he heard her footsteps move away.
“Who was that?” Bastien asked in his ear.
Mac sank to sit on the window ledge and admitted, “The problem. Her name is CJ Cummings. She’s a detective with the SIU in Mississauga. She was helping collect evidence at the fire and got roped into guarding me for the night. She’s presently in the next room, between me and the suite’s exit, and I can’t read or control her. It will be impossible for me to get out of the room and meet with the courier.”
Bastien blew a soft whistle down the line. “You have met your life mate.”
“Yes,” Mac breathed, a soft smile struggling to spread his lips.
“Did Mom suggest you rent a house in Sandford?”
Mac frowned at the odd question. “What? No. She suggested I look for a house or cottage on Pelee Island,” he answered. “Why would you ask that?”
“Oh, it is just that she has a tendency to hook up immortals with their life mates lately, and I wondered—Never mind,” he interrupted himself. “Obviously she had nothing to do with it this time.”
“No. She didn’t,” Mac assured him.
“Right,” Bastien murmured. “I am guessing you have not told this CJ Cummings about us?”
“Hell, no!” he said with exasperation. “That’s not something you spring on a woman on first meeting, Bastien. I need to gain her trust and interest before I even broach that subject.”
“Yes. Of course. Well, do not worry. I shall make sure to send an immortal with the blood delivery. He can control Ms. Cummings for you so that we can get you the blood you need. And I will call Uncle Lucian and apprise him of the situation. He shall no doubt have Mortimer send a couple of Enforcers down to investigate and sort out who tried to kill you.”
Mac grunted at that. Mortimer was the head of the Immortal Enforcers, basically the police for his people. They were a necessary group. Mortal police certainly couldn’t manage their kind and ensure they followed immortal or even mortal law. Mac’s kind called themselves immortals, but most of humankind who did not carry the nanos that kept them alive and well and un-aging would call them vampires. They certainly resembled the vampires of lore. They didn’t age, didn’t grow ill, were extraordinarily strong, fast, and able to see well in the dark. They also could read the minds of, and control, mortals and even immortals younger than themselves . . . and they needed more blood than their bodies could provide to satisfy the nanos that worked so hard for them. That meant feeding off of mortals with the fangs the nanos had given them. At least it had before the development of blood banks. Now they were supposed to feed only from bagged blood except in an emergency like the one he’d encountered tonight. But their depending on bagged blood, and the nanos behind their extraordinary abilities, were the only real difference between immortals and vampires . . . and the fact that they were all alive. They were not the dead soulless creatures of myth. Merely enhanced humans, really.
“Is there anything else you need?”
Mac pushed his thoughts away and shook his head. Then, realizing the other man couldn’t see it, he said, “No. Thank you. I— Wait, I need clothes