Villere House (Blood of My Blood) (21 page)

Xavier scooped her up into his arms, carefully easing from behind Élise's tomb, though the wrought iron gate, and into the aisle. "Let's get you to the hospital," he said.

She rested her head on his shoulder. He smelled so good and she lost herself in the scent, letting the memory of him above her and in her keep her grounded. She felt like she could just disappear and never return. Sleep and never wake.

A figure rose from the ground before them and in the back recesses of her mind she realized it was Julien and that she should probably be afraid. But with Xavier's protective arms around her, fear didn't fit into her muddled emotions.

Xavier didn't slow on his approach and by the time they reached him, Julien was standing and dusting off his pants.

"What the fuck happened?" he asked, turning to his brother. He gingerly touched his nose—which looked broken—and winced. He looked at Lottie. "Holy shit, girl! What happened to your neck? You're bleeding like a stuck pig!" His gaze flashed from side to side. "Are we in the cemetery?" He turned back to Xavier. "Am I fucking drunk or something?"

"Or something."

"Well, shit." He looked back at Lottie. "Damn, girl, this place is bad luck for you." After patting his pocket, he pulled out a cell phone. "You look like you got your hands full," he said to Xavier. "I'll call for an ambulance and have them meet us out front. Can you get her out there?"

"Yes."

Julien once again looked at Lottie and then touched his nose and made a face. He shook his head. "I don't know if I want to know what happened."

"You don't," Xavier told him.

"Fair enough." He turned and jogged from sight.

Finally, Lottie's brain felt like it was beginning to solidify even if the rest of her body still felt like jelly. "Sanite?" she asked Xavier.

"Yeah. I suspected for a while." His smile was like heaven to her eyes. "I know we have a lot to discuss, but save your energy. Let's get you all patched up and then we'll talk."

She nodded and for the first time felt the pain of the cut on her neck. Closing her eyes, she leaned her forehead against the curve of his chest. It was the last thing she remembered.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

L
ottie was pretty sure someone had replaced the pudding that had been filling her head for the last couple of days with nails. Or maybe knives. At least the sharpness of the pain was a welcome reprieve from dull, confused, and dazed. Although she definitely felt those last two as she blinked rapidly into the bright lights of whatever room she was in.

Grimacing, she touched her head. "Where am I?"

"Emergency room."

Once her eyes focused that became obvious. Xavier sat in a chair beside her looking…grim. She didn't like seeing that expression on his gorgeous face.

"You know, I'm really sick of waking up disoriented and not knowing where I am." She paused. "I wonder if that's how Sam feels," she added lightly and then realized how awful that came out. She shot him a quick, apologetic glance. "Sorry, that was mean."

He shrugged. "Sam's hardly my favorite person. I'm sure it's well deserved."

It was just the two of them in the exam room. "So, what's going on?"

"Good news, you are now the proud recipient of eleven stitches."

"Yay," she said dully.

"The bad news, the doctor wasn't about to let me take you out of here until you woke up. I think he wants to ask you a few questions about what happened."

"What did you tell him?"

"You fell and cut yourself on a broken bottle."

"Good call. It'd be a little hard to explain the ghost of a woman who died in the 19
th
century, acting through your brother, decided to slit my throat." She kept her words breezy in the hope of erasing the scowl on his face. It only deepened. "Did the doctor believe your story?"

"Not a chance."

"Well, I'm awake. I guess I'm ready to answer some questions."

He rose. "I'll get the nurse—"

A knock on the door stopped him. The doctor peeked into the room, his eyes immediately settling on her. "Oh good. You're up." Stepping into the room, he said to Xavier, "If you don't mind, I'd like to speak to Miss Boyd alone."

"He can stay," she interjected just as he rose.

"Don't worry about it. I'll go."

Lottie had a hard time believing he would just walk out of the room. It seemed so out of character. But he did. The door closed behind him with a thunk that made her cringe.

She needed to get out of the hospital and figure out what was going on, and fast. Thankfully, the knives in her head allowed for more agile brain response than pudding.

"It's good to see you again Dr. Anderson," she said cheerily. "We didn't get much of a chance to talk the other night. You left in such a hurry."

"I, um, yes…"

"No fence this time. But I am such a klutz. I swear, my two left feet are going to kill me some day. Stupid beer bottles." For emphasis, she touched the bandage on her neck and made a face. The wound throbbed dully under her fingers. Numbing agent must be wearing off.

"Miss Boyd…"

She jumped off the table, ignoring her brain as it sloshed around in her skull. "So, that's it, right? Can I go?"

His lips pursed together.

"I assume you still have all my insurance stuff. You know, since I was here the other night."

"Yes, but…"

"Good. Hopefully, I won't be back. In fact, I'm pretty sure I won't be. Whatever bad luck was cursing me is over. Would you mind telling Armand Laroque that when you see him again? Tell him, 'The mystery is solved.'"

The doctor nodded roughly, a stricken expression on his face. "Miss Boyd, I'd really rather you didn't mention seeing me at
Luxure
to anyone."

"I can do that. You do have my discharge papers…?"

The implied blackmail wasn't lost on him. He scribbled something on a paper and handed it to her as well as a prescription for pain pills.

"Thanks, Dr. Anderson. You've been a big help."

Shockingly, Xavier wasn't waiting for her in the hall. He
was
in the lobby and moved to meet her when she emerged from the hall. But his body language was off.
He
seemed off.

"We're good," she told him.

He nodded. "I'll grab a cab while you check out."

Baffled, she watched him walk away. He was just so…distant. A pit opened in her stomach and she did her best to ignore it.

She spent a few minutes at the nurse's station before retrieving her prescription and then heading out into the humid night air. Despite the mild temperature, she felt chilled, like her body would never be warm again. It might have something to do with the miniscule amount of clothes on her body but she doubted it.

She still felt somewhat jumbled. And her body still reeled from, well, everything. But she was starting to come back to herself. Xavier's cool demeanor didn't help though.

He was leaning against the cab when she approached, opening the door for her but not saying a word. Just as silently she climbed inside.

Something was definitely wrong. She could tell by the way his lips pressed into a tight line.

Maybe she'd misinterpreted his gestures, his feelings. Just because he was nice to her, just because he was protective, just because he seemed finely attuned to her needs, just because they'd made love, didn't mean he wanted to put up with her shit long term. This could have simply been a roller-coaster ride for him—as it had been for her—but one he was now ready to exit.

She tried not to think about it as he closed the passenger door and walked around to the other side of the cab. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms tightly around them and curled her body into the nook joining the door and seat.

Climbing in beside her, he took one look her direction and sighed. After giving the cabbie his address, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

The pit in her stomach deepened. Anxious to reconnect with him, anxious to affirm their common bond, she asked, "Do you think it's really over?" after a few moments of awkward silence.

"I hope so," he replied, keeping his eyes closed.

"I mean, we saw Élise, we know that she's…" She glanced at the cabbie. Chatting on his cell phone, he wasn't paying them any attention. "In heaven, or whatever, but what about Sanite? What about the curse?"

"I'd like to think it's broken. I have to believe it is."

"But she's still here."

"I'd venture to guess spirits are around us every day. She might have been one of the more powerful ones, but I think I know how to knock some of the wind out of her sails. You know the altars? That's where spirits get their power. Through the gifts we give them. I believe that's how Laurent was able to communicate with me. My family's been giving Sanite too much power over the years. I'm taking her altar down."

She nodded. Why did he keep his eyes closed? She couldn't read him if she couldn't look at him.

"Why didn't Élise just come out and tell me what to do? I think I'd rather have been spared living such a sad memory."

Finally he turned to her, his eyes distant. "I get it. But I don't know that it works that way. Besides, would you have believed her?"

"No. I guess not. She did try to force me, early on. It just scared me more than anything."

"Right. She needed you to understand. To know exactly what happened. And like I said earlier, I don't know that ghosts can communicate with us directly."

"She was able to use the water as conduit. Like when I heard her voice in the shower, or later when I took a bath. The water must have had power for her because she drowned." Just the thought of it, the memory of living it, made her heart ache. It was still too much to process. "What about Julien?" she asked after a moment. The cab was turning onto his street.

"Possessed by Sanite. I'm sure of it."

"I know, but how do we know it won't happen again?"

"I talked to him on the way to the hospital. I explained everything. He was shocked, and I'd like to think appalled, but he seemed to understand everything. I really do think it's over, Lottie."

The cab pulled over. As he paid the cabbie, she cracked her door and climbed out. Wrapping her arms tightly around her chest, she waited for him on the cold sidewalk.

He took one look at her and made a face. "C'mon," he said, taking her elbow and turning her toward the gated courtyard entrance. Let's get you to the Guest House before you break a leg."

For a brief moment, his joke made her hopeful everything really was okay and he was just as exhausted as she was. But his touch felt all wrong. For the first time, it felt…stiff. Forced.

Once inside the suite, things immediately got awkward.

She stood before him, one arm wrapped tight against her chest as she gripped the opposite elbow while he silently watched. He made no attempts to reach for her, no signs that he wanted to touch her at all. She needed to say something, to ask if they were okay, but uttering the words were terrifying. What if he confirmed her fears? That the ride was over for him. Whatever bond she thought they'd shared shattered when the mystery of Élise Cantrelle was solved.

"I'm going to take care of that altar," he said. "You okay for a bit?"

"Sure. I could probably stand to wash off this fresh layer of blood and dirt."

"Okay." He reached for the door.

His body was halfway into the other room when she called his name. He ducked his head back in.

"Are you coming back?"

"Do you want me to?"

She felt her brows push together. "Yes."

"Then I will." The door clicked softly behind him.

He'd been so caring in the cemetery. What happened?

Grabbing some fresh clothes, she shuffled to the bathroom and tried to piece together the last ten hours. It was such an emotional blur, a smorgasbord of chaotic events and mental time travel. Everything had been good up until
Luxure
. Then after he'd carried her home and…

Oh God, she'd seduced him. While he'd tried to push her away.

Was that what he was upset about?

She had little desire to climb back into the bathtub after everything that had happened there, so she used a washcloth and the vanity sink to wash the grime from her body.

The chicken feet dangling from the showerhead caught her eye, a towel now draped over them. Obviously, Xavier had covered them. Probably when he'd drawn the bath, probably to spare her from having to gaze upon their grossness.

In spite of everything, it made her smile. Just another example of his endless sweet gestures. The things that man had done for her...to her...

She was shocked she could feel so deeply for someone in such a short amount of time. And completely terrified. But there it was, staring directly at her.

She might be scared of what would happen if he rejected her, but she had to admit she was also scared of what would happen if he didn't. Eventually, she pushed everyone away. Why should he be any different?

Because she wanted him to be different. Because of everything they'd shared. Because Élise's heartbreaking tale had reminded her life is short, and no opportunity for happiness should be passed by. No matter how fleeting.

But knowing, wanting, and doing were three different things.

She had to tell him how she felt. In the end it didn't matter how he felt, or whether or not he wanted to be with her. He deserved to know how much he meant to her. He deserved a lot more than that.

As soon as he returned she'd spill everything.

If her heart didn't explode between now and then.