Chapter Eight
Winter was the first to admit that she wasn’t a good driver. With the icy roads and the heavy snow, she was all but shaking by the time she pulled into the hospital parking area.
Please, please, don’t be dead.
He was a vampire. And a werewolf. Both were almost impossible to kill. She had to hold on to that.
Unless whoever wanted him dead, knew what they were doing.
Ryan was so young in supernatural terms.
And she was supposed to have kept him safe. This was her fault. She would never, ever forgive herself if anything happened to him.
Graham had told her to wait for backup. That if someone had forced Ryan off the road, they could very likely have followed the ambulance here to finish the job. That was what she was worried about, and she wasn’t waiting around for it to happen. She was his goddamned bodyguard and from now on, she was going to do her job.
She parked the car as close as she could get and then ran for the entrance.
“A man was brought in here ten minutes ago. Car accident on the M1,” she said to the receptionist. “Where is he?”
Something flashed across the woman’s face. Pity? “Are you family?”
She bit back her impatience. “Yes. I’m his…wife.”
“Could you give us some information? He had no identification on him.”
“After I’ve seen him. Please, I need to see him.”
“He’s in room 103. Up the stairs and along the corridor to the left. But—”
She didn’t wait to hear anything else, just whirled around and headed along the corridor, taking the stairs two at a time. Halting in front of the door, she drew in a deep breath. Then she pushed it open.
And her heart stopped. The room was empty of people, except for a shrouded figure on the hospital bed in the center of the room. He had a sheet pulled up over his face. A sob broke free of her throat and she forced herself closer.
Get a grip. He’s a vampire.
Her hands shook as she reached out and drew back the sheet. His eyes were closed, and his face was pale. There was no rise and fall of his chest. A cut ran across his forehead, but it was already knitting together.
She laid her hand on his cheek.
“Ryan.”
He’d clearly shut down. Too much blood loss, at a guess. But she had to get him conscious if they had any hope of getting out of here. A wheelchair was parked in the corner of the room. If she could get him into that, then she could roll him out of here. But it would be much easier with some help.
Without giving herself time to think, she raised her wrist to her mouth and bit down hard, breaking through the skin. She tasted the sharp metallic taint of blood in her mouth. Then she lowered her wrist to Ryan’s face, parted his lips with her other hand, and pressed her wrist to his mouth.
“Come on,” she muttered.
His eyes blinked open, wide with shock.
Thank goodness.
Then his hand moved under the sheet, coming out and grasping hers, holding it to his mouth. She could feel him drinking now, the pull of his lips as they sucked at her life force, getting stronger by the second.
Enough—or she’d be the one in the wheelchair.
His grip was strong now, his eyes glowing crimson.
“Ryan, you have to stop.”
No response.
She gritted her teeth and tried to yank her hand away, but he was latched on tight. Closing her eyes, she concentrated, sent the ice down from her core to her fingertips. He dropped her hand and stared, his fangs still extended.
“What the hell?”
She scowled. “I did ask nicely.”
She saw the moment it all came back to him, panic flaring in his eyes. “Oh God, Liam. I have to get out—”
“Liam’s fine. I promise.”
There was a movement at the door, making her turn slowly. Trouble.
She’d been so focused on Ryan, she hadn’t sensed their approach. She really was crap at this bodyguard stuff. There were two of them. Both male and both big. And when she breathed in, her nostrils filled with the feral scent of wolf.
It was too late to get out now.
And Ryan was still too weak to be of much help. It looked like it was down to her. Time to earn her salary. Not that she was being paid a salary, at least that she knew of. It hadn’t been discussed. All the same, her reputation was at stake.
Behind her, Ryan was struggling to rise. She turned back to him and patted his arm. “Leave this to me.”
…
Ryan rubbed at the place where she’d zapped him. His skin was icy cold.
But the blood was singing through his system, lighting fires, waking him from the dead. He could feel his wounds healing, his flesh coming together.
He wanted more. He needed more, like he had never needed anything in his life.
His fangs were fully extended. And he curled his lip, reaching for the source of the sweet blood. She stepped out of reach and slapped his hand away. “Ryan, get a grip. We have company.”
He glanced past her then, his gaze locking on two of the biggest goddamn werewolves he had ever seen. They stood in the open doorway. And all that was between them and him was a five-foot slip of a girl they could probably break in two with one snap of their fingers.
Or claws.
Their hands were changing as he watched, the claws extending, black hair sprouting from their knuckles.
He hated fucking werewolves. He glanced from them to Winter. Fear rose inside him and panic took hold of his mind. She wasn’t moving, and she should be running. “You have to get out of here, now,” he said. “This is not your fight.”
She looked at him as though he were crazy. “Of course, it’s my fight. I’m your bodyguard.”
“Piers never meant for this to happen. You’re supposed to phone for help. Get out of here and use the fucking phone, Winter.”
She shrugged. “I left it in the car. Sorry, but I was in a hurry.”
“You left it in the goddamn car? Then go use the phone in reception. Just get the fuck out of here.” He had to make her leave. Somehow. He couldn’t bear to watch her die. She didn’t deserve to die. She was sweet and good. What the hell was her father doing, letting her loose like this? And what the hell was Piers thinking, letting her put herself in harm’s way?
She didn’t move, except maybe to edge a little closer to him. Was she crazy? She had to get as far away from him as possible. He was nothing but trouble, just a fucked-up mess who’d never been any good to anyone. Just like he wouldn’t be able to help Winter. “Winter, you can’t die. Not for me. They’ll let you go. You’re not part of this.” He turned to the werewolves. “You’ll let her go, right?”
One of them grinned, then licked his lips. “Of course we will. If she asks nicely.”
“Ask the fuck nicely, Winter.”
She totally ignored him.
He rolled off the bed and crashed to his knees. He was as weak as a kitten. He grabbed hold of the edge of the bed and dragged himself up, then swallowed, trying to find the words that would save her.
They were in the room now, so he could smell them. Inside, his wolf awoke. But his wolf couldn’t help him now. “Her father’s an important man. You don’t want to piss him off. He’ll come after you, and you’ll wish you’d never been born.” He turned his attention to Winter. “Tell them who your father is, Winter. Goddamn it, tell them now.” He swayed and held tighter.
One of them lunged toward Winter, and Ryan roared and dived toward him, crashing face-first to the floor. He pushed himself up, just as savage claws swiped for her. Only, she wasn’t there. She moved faster than he could follow, and he shook his head trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
She came at the wolf from behind, her hand grasping his shoulder. And the man went still. Shock flared on his face. He opened his mouth and…just stopped. Exactly as he stood.
“What the fuck did you just do?” the second werewolf growled, and reached out for her. This time she stood her ground.
“This,” she said. And she wrapped her hand around his arm.
His eyes widened, then he froze in place. Ryan could see the ice flow over his body from the point of contact.
Blinking, he shook his head. He couldn’t take his eyes off the two figures frozen in place. He pulled himself along the length of the bed, reached out his hand, and touched the nearest one. The guy’s skin was cold as ice. Ryan flinched and drew his hand away.
Winter came up beside him, pushing a wheelchair. She tugged his hands free of their hold on the bed, then nudged him gently, and he collapsed back into it.
“Are they dead?” he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.
“Unfortunately, not. They could come around anytime. And they probably have friends who are going to run in at any moment, so let’s get out of here. I have my limits.”
“You do?” He found that, at least, a little comforting.
She grabbed the sheet from the bed and laid it on his knee, tucking it in, then picked up his pile of clothes from the table next to the bed, his boots from the floor, and bundled them on top of him.
As they passed the first wolf, Ryan stared. The man’s eyes were moving, following them as they crossed the room. It looked like he was coming around.
“Let’s go.”
She pushed him out the door, then hesitated. Ignoring the sign to reception, she headed toward the emergency exit. As they reached it, he leaned forward and pressed down the bar to open the door, and they moved out into the freezing air. She stopped and swore under her breath.
They’d come out on a metal fire escape, one story up. No way could she maneuver the wheelchair and him down those stairs.
He tried to push himself up but was still too weak. He needed more blood.
“Sorry,” she muttered. Then she tipped up the wheelchair, and he tumbled out, bouncing and rolling down the metal stairs to land in an undignified heap in the snow at the bottom.
Winter pushed the chair down and came to a halt beside him.
“I don’t believe you did that,” he said.
“I apologized in advance. Now get back in.”
He pulled himself back into the chair. And she was off and away again, sliding and slipping through the slushy snow that covered the parking lot.
He became aware of something else. Dawn was close, tugging at his consciousness. How long did he have?
She came to a halt beside a black SUV, another of the Order’s vehicles. After opening the door, she half-pulled, half-pushed him into the back seat, where he collapsed. She shoved the wheelchair into the trunk, and then ran around and jumped in the driver’s seat. Seconds later, they were moving.
He glanced out of the rear window at the hospital building. The emergency door they had come through opened and a figure stepped out onto the fire escape. It looked like their new friends had come around and were on the move.
But they were away and heading out onto the main road.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Right now, I just want to put some distance between us and them. Then we’ll decide.”
“I have to keep moving. I have to get to Liam.”
“No, you don’t. Really you don’t. He’s fine. They don’t have Liam.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “It was a lie to get you out in the open. But you are in danger. Marissa put a price on your head.”
“You’re sure Liam’s safe?” She nodded. “Absolutely sure?” He wanted to believe her, but… “Give me your phone.”
She fumbled on the seat beside her and then passed him the phone. He keyed in Steve’s number. His friend answered after the fourth ring.
“Steve. It’s Ryan.”
“Fucking hell, Ryan. It’s the middle of the night. And it’s Christmas fucking Eve tomorrow. What is it?”
“Is Liam there?”
“Did I mention the middle of the night thing? Of course he is. He’s in bed, just like the rest of us.”
“Are you sure? Can you check? Please, Steve, it’s important.”
He could hear the rustle of blankets, Steve muttering under his breath, a woman in the background asking what was going on. He gritted his teeth, holding in his impatience.
“Yeah, he’s here,” Steve said. “Sleeping like a baby. You happy now?”
Oh God, Liam was safe. He had another chance. “Thanks.”
“Look, what’s going on, Ryan?”
“Nothing. Well, something, but I don’t want to get into it over the phone. I’ll be there tomorrow night.” He did the math on his head. “About nine or ten, depending on the weather.”
“It’s Christmas Eve, Ryan. What the fuck.”
“Sorry.” He could feel the dawn tugging at his mind. “I have to go. I’ll explain when I get there. And hey—keep Liam at home tomorrow.”
“You’re joking.”
“No. Just keep him safe.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“I’ve got to go. Talk to you tomorrow night.” He ended the call and rested his head back against the seat for a moment, weak with relief. And weak with hunger. And just…weak.
“It’s nearly dawn,” he said. He hadn’t been outside after dawn since he’d been turned. It would change as he got older, but right now, he had no control; the sun came up and he slept. Or died. Whatever. And if he was outside when that happened, he was toast.
Winter glanced over her shoulder, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “I know. But the windows are tinted. You’ll be okay.”
He had no choice but to trust her. And strangely, he did. He needed to tell her something before he passed out.
“Winter.”
“What?”
“Thank you,” he said.
“Don’t thank me. I messed up. I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight. And I won’t again, once I get you back to the Order.”
“I’m not going back,” he said. “If I go back, they’ll keep me there. And I have to go get Liam.” He could feel the pull of the day. He didn’t have long. “Promise you won’t take me back.” She was silent. “Please, Winter, promise me.”
She sighed. “I promise.”
That had to be enough. Anything else would have to wait until sunset. It was time to die.
…
Everything went silent in the back seat. She’d lost him. Gone to wherever vampires go during the day. She blew out her breath and tried to loosen her death grip on the wheel. At least the snow had stopped, and the night was clear. She was back on the motorway, heading north.
She chewed on her lip while she tried to work out what to do. What options did she have? She’d promised. And somehow, after the way she’d lied to him, she couldn’t bring herself to break that promise. Besides, it was relatively safe. They hadn’t been followed. She was pretty sure there was no way they could be tracked.
She rubbed her eyes. It had been a long night. So she’d put a little space between them and the hospital, then stop at a shop and buy some much-needed supplies, and finally, get off the motorway and find a hotel for the day. Somehow, she’d get the unconscious vampire out of the car and into a hotel room. Without him frying. And without her being reported for transporting a corpse.
The adrenaline was draining from her bloodstream. She felt a little weak and shaky, and sort of teary. Just coming down from the high of nearly dying.
Gosh, her dad would have been so pissed.
She’d tried to look confident, for Ryan’s sake. But it had been touch and go.
A shiver ran through her and then a huge yawn.
An hour later, shopping done, she pulled up in front of the reception area of a sprawling hotel on the outskirts of a medium-sized town.
She just had to keep going a little bit longer.
She twisted in her seat to look at Ryan. His eyes were closed, and there was no sign of breathing. When she leaned between the seats and placed her hand on his chest, she couldn’t feel a heartbeat. That was normal, but all the same, she sniffed. She could have done with his company and support right now. That’s what happened when you fell for a vampire—they were never there when you needed them.
The sky was lightening to a dull gray. A new day. Christmas Eve. Suddenly, she felt a pang of longing. For her family and their traditions. Christmas Eve had always been the busiest day of the year, and she’d loved it. She sighed and climbed out of the car. The man on the reception desk gave her a curious look but didn’t make any comment. He’d probably seen it all. Or thought he had.
“Could I have a room around the back, please? It’s quieter. And on the ground floor.”
He just handed her a key and took her money.
“Thank you.”
She drove the car around the back and parked in front of their room, as close as she could get. It was full daylight now. She scrambled into the back and crouched beside Ryan, considering him for a moment. The sheet should cover most of him. She dug into the bag of shopping and pulled out the scarf she’d bought, wrapped it around his neck and face, then rammed the hat on top of his head.
Then she got out and opened the room so they could get in fast, running inside and pulling the curtains across the windows leaving the place in darkness. Returning to the car, she tugged the wheelchair out of the trunk and positioned it near the back door. Then she stood back, hands on her hips, and blew out her breath.
God, he was so big.
It was a good thing she was stronger than she looked.
She made sure the sheet was wrapped around him securely, then hooked her hands under his shoulders and pulled. It was awkward with the chair in the way, but she finally maneuvered him into it. The sheet had come away from his feet and they were already turning pink. She pulled it over him again and tucked it in.
“That your boyfriend?” a voice asked from behind her. She jumped.
A woman stood there, in a short skirt and sandals—as inappropriately dressed as Winter.
“He pissed?”
She took a deep breath. “Yeah. Fell out the window and sprained his back.”
“You need any help?”
“No. I’m good, thank you.”
She waited until the woman had wandered off, then grabbed the leather coat from the pile of clothes in the back of the car and placed it on his lap. He was as covered as he was going to be.
She pushed the chair toward the room, heaving a sigh of relief as she got inside. Leaving him just inside the door, she went back to collect the rest of Ryan’s clothes from the car. When she got back, she closed the door. There was only one bed, but it was big, and she pulled back the covers and sheets. After pushing the wheelchair close, she half-tipped, half-dragged the unconscious vampire onto the bed. She pulled off the hat and scarf, thought about removing the hospital gown but decided against it. Instead, she just straightened his limbs and stood back. The wound on his head was almost healed. She pushed up the sleeve of his gown. The cut here was more serious—it looked like the arm had almost been severed at the shoulder, but it, too, was healing well, and would probably be nearly as good as new by the time he awoke at sunset.
She tugged the blankets over him—not that he needed them, but maybe she needed the illusion of some sort of normalcy. That was a new thought for her.
Finally, her work done, she collapsed into a chair. She looked at the food she’d bought, then grabbed the bottle of whisky and took a long pull.
In the evening, when Ryan awoke, they would have to decide what to do next, but for now, she was going to crash.