Dragon's Fake Wedding Date - Riley Storm Page 0,62

Rann swayed. He was weak. So much blood lost.

Need to get safe. Before they feed and come back. Have to get inside. Behind a threshold.

But the only place nearby was one where he wasn’t welcome anymore. It didn’t matter. Rann had to try, to hope he could convince her to see reason.

Otherwise the vampires were going to kill him.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Gayle

She’d been staring at the blank message screen for minutes on end, her fingers refusing to move.

What could she possibly send in the way of a text message to even begin undoing the damage she’d done upon her hasty and ill-advised exit from Rann’s life?

“You should just call him,” she said to herself unhappily.

That would be so embarrassing though. How should she start that phone call? ‘Hi Rann, I’m an idiot and believed someone else instead of you and didn’t even give you a chance to explain?’

It just wasn’t that easy. It should be, but it wasn’t, not for her.

Send him something. Don’t wait too long and miss your chance at fixing this.

Claire and Lilly had left much earlier. Both of them had lives to get back to. They’d been heading up the mountain, they’d informed her, wanting to be home before the sun set.

Even in the dead of summer, the sun set early in Five Peaks, thanks to the mountains that rose up to the west of town, shortening their days by several hours. Now night had fallen completely, and Gayle was still struggling to decide how to best reach out to Rann.

“I give up,” she moaned, slumping back into the couch. “I can’t do th—Eek!

The phone went flying as something heavy pounded against her front door repeatedly. Gayle clutched at midair, but only succeeded in knocking the phone onto the carpet in front of her.

She bent over to get it while looking at the door nervously. It was ten-thirty at night. Who was knocking on her door after dark? And so aggressively too. Clutching the phone, ready to call 911 if needed, Gayle went closer to the door.

“Hello?” she called.

There was no answer. Something knocked again. More calmly this time.

“Who’s there?”

This time, she thought she heard a muffled reply, but she couldn’t make out the actual words through the door. Creeping closer, trying not to make any sound, Gayle put her eye up to the peephole.

There was nobody there. Looking around nervously, scared of what was going on, she backed off, standing to the side of the door. Just in case someone came through it.

“Who’s there?” she called again.

“It’s me,” a familiar voice said.

But there was something off about it.

“Rann?” she said, trying to figure out if she’d heard properly or was just imagining it, hearing a voice she wanted to hear.

“Help,” came the single word reply, from somewhere down near the bottom of the door.

Something was very, very wrong.

Throwing caution to the wind, fearful that he was in trouble and desperate to do whatever it took to show him she was sorry for earlier, Gayle flung the door open.

“Rann?” she yelped upon seeing the blood-soaked figure curled up around her crimson-stained front door mat. “Oh god, there’s so much blood! Rann, what do I do? I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry for before, Rann, tell me, how do I help you?”

“Inside,” he said. “Need inside. Hurry.”

Of course he needed to come inside. She couldn’t just leave him out there to bleed to death!

“Okay,” she said uneasily. “I should probably call 911 though. You need an ambulance Rann. There’s so much blood. So much.”

“Inside first,” he said, hauling himself up onto one arm and dragging himself forward, over her threshold. “Not safe outside.”

“Not safe?” she said, suddenly looking out into the dark. “Why not?”

“Vampires,” he said.

Gayle stiffened. Vampires? Here?

“Is that what happened to you?” she gasped, crouching down, reaching out with her hands repeatedly to try and get a grip to help him, but every time she tried, she almost squeezed another open cut. He was bleeding everywhere.

“How do I help Rann?” she pleaded, feeling completely useless while he dragged himself inside. “I can’t lift you. You’re bleeding everywhere.”

“Towels,” he said. “Water. Don’t kick me out.”

“Kick you out?” she gasped. “Oh, I would never do that.”

He paused in his crawling to twist his head and look at her. Somewhere out in the night there was a piercing cry. The sheer unnaturalness of it prickled the skin along her spine.

Both she and Rann looked out the open doorway.

“That wasn’t a bird, was it?” she asked quietly as it sounded again,