other male’s, as if he were a young, as if he needed guidance—because he did—Trez allowed himself to be drawn into the treatment room next door.
It was the same one.
The same one Selena had died in before.
On the table, under the medical chandelier, Therese was lying under a sheet. Tubes were going in and out of her, fluids pumped in, fluids pumped out, and there was a stand of monitoring machines by her head. Dr. Manello and Doc Jane were speaking softly and quickly by her feet. Ehlena was at the ready with a crash cart.
Doc Jane looked up. “What is he doing in here—”
Therese moaned on the table, and Dr. Manello said, “Heart rate is getting stronger. Blood pressure normalizing.”
Doc Jane glanced at her patient. Looked back at Trez. “Come closer.”
Trez limped over, and Therese turned her face to him, even though her eyes remained closed.
“I’m here,” he said.
“Heart rate stabilizing. Blood pressure continuing to improve.”
“Get him a chair,” Doc Jane barked. “Before he falls over.”
When something hit the back of his legs, Trez let himself go down. He wanted to take his female’s hand, but he remembered when they had been in the corridor, in the fire. It had hurt her.
“Take from me,” he said urgently. Bringing his wrist up, he struck his own vein with his fangs. “Take my strength.”
As he held the puncture wounds over her mouth, Dr. Manello said something sharply, as if he did not approve. But then a drop of blood fell on Therese’s mouth and she moaned. After which, her lips parted, and her head lifted ever so slightly.
Trez put his wrist right down. “Take from me, my queen. And come back.”
He worried she wouldn’t be able to do it, but then she latched on and took from him, even in her compromised state. And as he watched her neck work as she swallowed, his eyes watered. He had been here before with her. He had done this before, and he had lost her.
Not this time, though.
This time… he had won the fight.
Therese would survive, and they would be together, and he was going to accept the complex truth that all was as it should be, even though it defied logic and explanation.
But that was kind of what true love was, wasn’t it. Against all odds and probability, two souls could indeed find each other in the soup of time and humanity, and forge a trail to walk along, hand in hand, forevermore.
It made him think of an old proverb:
Blessed are those who believe in all that two hearts aligned achieve. For once united, no matter where winter finds them, they will always be warm.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Female: Her vitals are stable.
Male: What about the pain?
Female: I’m still worried about her breathing. She’s too close to the edge.
The back-and-forth voices were close by, but from behind Therese’s closed lids, she couldn’t exactly place them. Were they in front of her? To the side? Behind? And what was the beeping. There was incessant beeping.
Some kind of fear, transient yet persistent, dogged her, but as with the voices, she couldn’t place its source. She knew only of its existence. And what were they saying about pain? She felt nothing. Were they talking about someone else?
No, wait. She did feel something. As she swallowed, her throat was sore.
And she could taste. Dear Lord, could she taste… there was the most incredible dark wine in her mouth, and down the back of her throat, and deep within her gut. It was a source of warmth, of strength, like a banked hearth—
Therese’s eyes flipped open, and as she gasped, three heads leaned over her. A male and a female she did not recognize—the voices, probably? Because they were in doctor garb—and then—
“Trez,” she croaked.
As she lifted her hand, the male she wanted to see above all else captured her palm in the gentlest of holds.
“I’m right here,” he said roughly. “I’m right with you.”
Yes, she thought. He always had been with her. Even though… well, he didn’t look so hot. His face was an unnatural red, and he had one eyebrow singed, and a section of his hair was missing—
Something was on fire, she thought. She could smell the smoke.
Therese opened her mouth to say something, but abruptly she became distracted by the bandages that ran up her forearms. Lifting her head, she looked down at her body. She was wound up with white bands from collarbone to ankle.
That was when the pain registered. Except how was it possible