“No.” The word slipped from Pallas’ lips as a whisper and he fell to his knees with her. “No.” His mind was a blank. He had just found her. All those centuries alone. Not once meeting a kindred spirit that had stolen his heart like Leona. And he had only had her for less than a year. A drop of time.
Her gaze locked with his. “Run,” she ordered. “Go before they kill you, too.” A tear spilled along her cheek.
From the edge of the woods, Ian barked a warning. The gunmen were closing in.
Like a puzzle piece falling in place, Pallas’ mind decided. “You’re not going to die.” He scooped her into his arms and ran for cover.
More shots pierced the silence of the forest. Agent Thomas shouted orders to capture them dead or alive.
Ian yelped in the distance to his right.
The night was Pallas’ friend. Covering his movements as he clouded the gunmen’s senses. It didn’t work so well when they knew for a fact he was in the area. Fooling someone into believing they had seen a shadow when they weren’t expecting someone was easy, but when they knew what he looked like and had seen his face not seconds before was a different skill set. One he didn’t possess. He’d most likely given them all headaches or vertigo. It was enough since none of them hit their target as he dodged trees, bushes, and bullets.
Along his path to freedom, Pallas collected Ian, who ran next to him, matching his incredible speed.
Leona was a feather in his arms. She grimaced in pain. “Stop,” she moaned.
Pallas tried not to jostle her so much but the terrain was rough in the deep snow. They crossed his property line onto wild country. The gunmen were far behind with Agent Thomas. In their rush, Ian and Pallas had left a clear trail for them to follow.
“Hospital,” Leona gasped. “I need a hospital.”
The pain in her voice tore at his heart. That shot had been intended for him. If he had known she’d been in the line of fire, he would have taken the bullet.
He slowed his pace and searched their surroundings for a clear area to lay Leona down.
Ian padded next to them. He sniffed at her boots and whined.
Pallas set her by an outcrop of rock that blocked the wind and pulled her hands aside. Blood seeped through her winter jacket and pooled in the material.
“What are we doing? You should have left me there. I’ll only slow you down.”
He set his finger over her lips. “Let me help.” He unzipped her jacket and pulled up the hem of her shirt. The sight of her wound normally wouldn’t have bothered him but this was her abdomen that was pierced. His Leona’s blood that wept into the snow. Fear drowned him so much he wasn’t even tempted to take a taste.
“Help? How? Are you going to perform surgery with the wolf?” She tried to move but cried out in agony. “Fuck. Shit. Fuck.”
He bit his wrist. His long fangs puncturing deep into his flesh. The taste of his dark blood metallic on his tongue.
She went quiet.
He held his bleeding wound to her lips. “Drink.”
“I don’t want to be a vampire.”
“Good for you. Taking a sip won’t change you, but it will heal your wound.” He could hear her heart beat growing irregular. She’d lost a lot of blood. Sheer stubbornness kept her conscious. She didn’t have much time. He would not lose her. If he did, this world would witness his rage and need to send him to his grave to stop it. With his thumb, he pressed her chin until her lips opened, then dribbled his blood into her mouth.
She didn’t fight but watched him warily over his hand and drank.
“That’s enough.” His wound was already closing.
She made a face. “If I grow fangs, you’re the first one I’m going to bite.” Her skin seemed so pale, almost transparent.
He tried to smile but failed. “I look forward to it.” He wiped the blood from her abdomen with snow.
She startled at the sudden chill.
“The process to create a vampire is a lot more complicated than this and my type of vampire can’t turn females.” It was a sad truth. Any woman turned by a Nosferatu vampire died. Only males could survive, and even then, just a handful. His clan was an exclusive brotherhood of assholes.
He finished cleaning her stomach and ran his fingers over her sealing wound. “See, almost gone.”
She pulled her shirt higher for a better look at her abdomen. “How’s that possible?” She touched her wound. “That’s amazing. Does all vampire blood do this?”
“Not even all Nosferatu. Just a few of us inherited this gift.” He cast a look at Ian and back to her. “I’d appreciate it if you kept it a secret. If it gets out that I can heal anyone with my blood, I’ll never have a moment’s peace.”
They watched as her flesh healed. “It doesn’t even ache.” She fingered her unscarred flesh. “How many know?”
“Besides you and Ian? Just one other.” He helped her stand but she still looked pale. “It takes a lot of energy to heal your flesh. You lack fluid to create more blood. We need a safe place to hide so you can eat and rest.” He settled her in his arms again.
She didn’t argue and rested her cheek against his chest. This behavior just reinforced how exhausted she must feel. He would scale mountains and cross deserts to keep this woman safe.
He nodded to Ian to lead them forward. “We need to confuse our trail to lose Homeland.” They had already lost precious time while he had healed Leona. Soon search parties would be sent and maybe helicopters, depending on how desperately Thomas wanted him.
His guess was the agent wanted him very much.
Ian understood what needed to be done. He was alpha for a reason. They backtracked along their trail to where he had seen hard packed snow by a fast running stream that hadn’t frozen over.
Crap, he hated wet feet. “How many miles do I need to march before we meet?” Pallas knew the area well. Probably better than his wolves. He hated being confined in buildings. It was unnatural.
Ian barked twice then ran off.
“Where is he going?” Leona lifted her head to track the wolf’s whereabouts.
“There’s no way for us to travel in such deep snow without leaving a huge trail. He’s going to make some false tracks in the snow to confuse the men hunting us. We will follow the stream for two miles and meet him there.”
The travel was slow though. He walked uphill in the center of the stream to throw off any hunting dogs Homeland might use. The water would wash away their scent trail. He was top-heavy while carrying Leona and his balance was off. Swift currents tugged his legs, his feet were numb from the icy coldness, and the smooth river stones were slippery. Leona didn’t need him dropping her into the frigid waters.
“Then what?”
“Just rest. I’ll take care of you.” Pallas set her head back against his chest. She fit perfectly in his arms.
“It’s like you don’t know me.” She scanned their dark surroundings. “You expect me to just let you carry me.”
He chuckled. “I can dream.” In another life, this night would have been hell, but his heart soared as her body stabilized within his arms. She didn’t understand how close he had come to losing her.
“How can you see where you’re going?”
“Vampire.” He stumbled on a slippery rock. “Not a graceful one.” He sensed her cheeks crease into a smile through his T-shirt.
She stroked a hand over his chest. “How can you stand the cold dressed like this?”
“Vampire.” He paused. Was she delirious? “You feeling better?” Maybe he should give her more blood. He wasn’t an expert at healing. He didn’t make it a habit to open his veins. Bad enough he had saved Ian in the same manner not long ago. Perhaps he was the one going soft in the head.
“Just lightheaded.” Her hands wandered, making it hard to concentrate. She traced his cheeks, his nose, ears with her cold fingertips. “You’re very pretty.”
He snorted. Definitely delirious.
“You don’t believe me?” She kissed the spot over his heart. “I think strong men are beautiful. I don’t meet many who I think are strong.”
He didn’t like the idea of Leona meeting any men. She was his. That thought clicked in his head and he rolled his eyes.
Now he was beginning to think like his wolves.
His parents had believed in soulmates. Mother used to tease that one day the right female would turn his world upside down. He hadn’t thought it possible. Not after being turned into this monstrosity and being torn from his people.
Yet centuries later, Leona proved his mother right. It was possible to fall in love. Even with a dead heart.
“I can’t see,” she whispered. “Are you blushing?”
“No,” he lied, ignoring the heat on his cheeks.
She curled back into his arms, face pressed to his chest where he could feel her smug smile. “Yes, you are.”
He slipped on a thin sheet of ice and almost dumped both of them in the ice water. “Fuck.” He landed on his knees, soaking his jeans, while lifting Leona high in the air.
“Oh my God.” She gripped his wrists, but thankfully, didn’t struggle for once. It was an awkward hold to keep.
Slowly, he rose to his feet, balancing her light body until they were back in stable form. “I hate being wet.” He stomped forward, more determined to reach their destination.
After a long period of silence, he thought her asleep until she whispered, “What will we do now? Are you going to force me to run away?”