Dead Sexy (39 page)

"Sit down and roll up your sleeve."

Santiago shook his head. "I cannot…"

"Do you want her to live?" the doctor demanded brusquely. "Then do as I say. We have no time to waste."

Muttering an oath, Santiago sat on the chair beside the bed. How would his blood affect Regan?

Would it kill her? Taken via a transfusion, it wouldn't turn her into a vampire, but what would it do? And what would the doctor say if he knew whose blood he was about to take?

Santiago clenched his fist as the doctor prepared to take his blood. Watching, he couldn't help but laugh inwardly at the thought of a vampire donating blood to a mortal woman. Surely it was a first!

"Is she going to be all right?" Santiago asked, though how anyone could survive such a terrible wound was beyond his comprehension.

"Only time will tell."

The doctor slapped a bandage on his arm. "I will need to stitch her. You can wait outside."

"No."

"Yes. Go."

With a curt nod, Santiago left the room. As much as he longed to stay, he needed to feed, needed to replace the blood he had lost.

Leaving the doctor's office, he ghosted down the dark streets in search of prey.

She was lost in a dark fog. No matter where she went, no matter how she searched, she couldn't find what she was looking for, couldn't find the light. Her body felt weak, adrift. Lost.

Was this death? Had her spirit left her body? Did one have to search for heaven?

Or, oh horrible thought, had killing Vasile condemned her to hell? She refused to accept that. Vasile had been a monster. Surely killing him was a good thing!

Why couldn't she find the way out?

Why couldn't she find him?

She tried to call his name but the words wouldn't come and then she remembered that he was a monster, too, and that she shouldn't want him, shouldn't love him. She wished that they had made love. Right or wrong, it was her one regret.

"Joaquin." His name formed in her mind. Had she said it aloud? She wanted Joaquin, wanted him to hold her hand and promise her that everything would be all right. They would find the shaman and he would cure her… but then she remembered that the shaman was dead.

"Pahin Sapa? Are you there? Is anybody there?"

She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were heavy, so heavy. When she tried to move, she felt a sharp, burning pain in her neck where Vasile had bitten her.

But he was dead now, and so was she. So many things she would never be able to do. She would never see her family again, never have a family of her own, never see Santiago…Joaquin, Joaquin! She loved him, but the world was growing darker…

Santiago stood at Regan's bedside. Her complexion was deathly pale, her breathing shallow, her heartbeat faint and thready. He looked up at the doctor, unwilling to believe what his eyes were seeing.

"Is she going to live?"

The doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry," he murmured, and his eyes were kind.

"Is there nothing you can do?"

"She's too weak. She's lost too much blood. The wound in her neck… how did she get it?"

"An accident."

"It looks like the bite of a large animal. The authorities…"

"How much longer does she have?"

"A few hours. Perhaps until morning." The doctor laid a sympathetic hand on Santiago's arm. "Can I bring you anything? Coffee? Whiskey?"

"No, nothing."

"I have patients to visit," the doctor said. "Stay as long as you wish. Call me when…" He patted Santiago on the shoulder. "I'm sorry."

After the doctor left the room, Santiago took Regan's hand in his. It was cold, too cold. He was losing her.

Dammit, he couldn't let her go! "Regan! Listen to me! You will not die, do you hear me? I cannot live without you."

He had not wept in hundreds of years, had thought he had lost the power to do so long ago, but he felt the sting of tears in his eyes as he gazed down at her. She lay so still, as if she was already gone.

Using the power of his mind, he commanded her to wake up.

She moaned softly and then her eyelids fluttered open.

He squeezed her hand. "Regan!"

She stared up at him, her gaze unfocused. There was no recognition in her eyes.

"Regan, listen to me."

"You're here," she said, her voice little more than a whisper. "You're the one I've been searching for."

He frowned. "What?"

"I looked for you… in the light… but you weren't… there."

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. "I am here with you now."

"I… love… you."

"And I love you."

"I wish… I could… stay."

"Regan, listen to me. I cannot let you go."

A faint smile flitted over her lips and was gone. "You can't… stop me."

"Yes, I can. Let me bring you across."

She blinked at him and then shook her head.

"Dammit, I will not let you go! Do you hear me? I need you in my life."

"I can't… be a vampire… I hunt… vampires."

"And you have found one who will never let you go."

"I'm… sorry…" Her eyelids fluttered down; her hand went limp in his.

He gazed down at her, trying to imagine his existence without her in it, but it was impossible. Without her, he had no reason to go on. She had become his life, the light in his darkness, his purpose for rising in the evening. Without her, what was there to look forward to? He had no need for the world; the world had no need of him.

"Very well," he said, stroking her cheek. "Rest in peace, my love. I will join you in the morning."

Her eyelids flew open as her fingers tightened around his. "No! No… you must… not. Promise… me."

He shook his head. "I have no reason to go on if you are not here. If I cannot have you with me in this life, then I will join you in the next. Surely a merciful heaven will not keep us apart."

She looked up at him, her eyes clear. "You don't mean that."

"I do. I have existed alone long enough. I will not do it any longer."

"This is… blackmail," she said accusingly.

"There is an old saying: 'All is fair in love and war.' And I love you, Regan Delaney, as I have loved no other. In life or in death, you will be mine."

"Let it be life, then," she murmured, closing her eyes. "A long, long life."

At her words, Santiago lifted her from the bed, blankets and all, and carried her out the back door of the doctor's office.

With preternatural speed, he made his way out of the village toward a heavily wooded area, searching until he found a small cave that was cut into the side of a hill and hidden behind a tangled mass of shrubbery and foliage.

Inside the cave, he spread the blankets on the ground and then, sitting down, he gathered Regain into his arms. There was little time to waste. Her heartbeat was already so faint that even with his preternatural ability, he could scarcely hear it. Smoothing her hair away from her neck, he kissed the sweet curve of her throat and then, taking a deep breath and praying it wasn't too late, he bent over her, his fangs piercing the tender skin below her ear.

Ah, the warmth and sweetness of her life's blood. It filled him with a sense of euphoria such as he had never known. He drank it all and then, tearing a gash in his wrist, he held the bleeding wound to her lips.

"Drink, my love," he coaxed, stroking her throat to make her swallow. "Drink and live."

Regan woke slowly. Sitting up, she stretched her arms over her head. She felt wonderful. And then she frowned. Why did she feel wonderful? Why was she naked? And where was she?

Glancing around, she realized she was lying on a blanket in a cave. A cave? What was she doing in a cave? Had they returned to the Black Hills? Where was Santiago? She touched her hand to her neck where Vasile had bitten her. There was no bandage and no ragged wound, only soft, smooth skin.

"All right," she muttered, "let's sort this out. I'm alone in a cave and…" She bolted to her feet. Had Santiago left her for dead? Had he buried her in a cave?

She wrapped the thin blanket around her, toga-style, and then moved quickly toward the entrance, only then wondering how she could see so clearly in the dark.

She frowned again, her gaze darting right and left. She could see everything with crystal clarity, and she felt different somehow.

"You're just being silly," she said, moving closer to the entrance. "It's probably because you're not a werewolf anymore and you're just feeling normal again."

But she didn't feel normal.

As she stepped out of the cave, she realized she was hungry, not for food, but for something to drink. That wasn't normal, either.

She had recently been close to death. Perhaps that was the answer to everything.

She paused outside the cave, more confused than ever. Her senses were enhanced, the way they had been when she was a werewolf, yet she wasn't in wolf form and she knew that that part of her was gone, destroyed with Vasile. Why, then, were her senses so sharp? She could hear the tiny black beetle crawling on a leaf to her left, see clearly though the sky was dark and overcast, smell the grass and the dirt and the trees. She knew there was a small stream a few yards away and a honeycomb in the branches overhead, and that a small fox was cowering in a hole not far from where she stood.

She took a deep breath and Santiago's scent was borne to her on the evening breeze, and then she saw him striding toward her. He smiled when he saw her, though his eyes were guarded.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Never better," she replied, thinking he was more handsome than ever. "What's wrong with me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why do I feel so good? I should be dead."

He took a deep breath. "Undead," he said quietly.

The word hung between them in the air as bits and pieces of what had happened the night before rose in her memory. The wolves fighting. The weight of the gun in her hand. Santiago's voice telling her that he loved her, telling her that if she died, he would join her in the morning.

"You did it," she said, a note of wonder in her voice. "You made me a…"

He nodded. "Vampire."

"I don't feel dead." She ran her hands over her arms, across her breasts, over her face. "I feel as if I could fly." She tilted her head to the side. "You told me that it was painful when you were brought across. Why didn't I feel anything?"

"It happened while you were unconscious."

"I'm a vampire." She looked at him, her eyes wide. "Does this mean I have to live in the park?"

Grinning, he drew her into his arms. "No, my love. We can live wherever you wish."

"Are you still going to marry me?"

"Just as soon as I can."

She stared up at him. "Can we get married tonight?"

"I do not think so. At home, I know a priest who will marry us, but here…" He shrugged. "I am a stranger here."

Reaching up, she trailed her forefinger across his brow, down his cheek, and over his lower lip. "Can we have our honeymoon now and get married tomorrow night?"

He took her finger into his mouth and suckled it a moment before asking, "Is that what you want?"

She nodded, surprised to feel a blush heat her cheeks. "I almost died last night and all I could think about was how sorry I was that we hadn't made love. I don't want to wait any longer."