Absolution (7 page)

“H
ey, you…you’re awake. How’re you feeling?”

The voice came at Glory from somewhere above. A cool cloth on her forehead prompted her to open her eyes and focus. The woman leaning over her was tall, with dark auburn hair pulled into a braid; she had a heart-shaped face and brown eyes that sparked with intelligence.

Glory blinked, doing a quick self-assessment. She’d been in a haze for so long the ability to take in her surroundings felt heady and liberating. Except, where the heck was she?

“Hey.” The woman took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m Krys, and I’m a doctor. You’re in Penton, Alabama, at a medical clinic. Can you understand what I’m saying?”

Glory tried to talk, but her vocal cords didn’t seem to work. Her heart sped at the thought: she was free. She didn’t know how she got out or how she’d gotten to Alabama, but she doubted Sir had anything to do with it.

Dr. Krys handed her a cup of water, and she sipped the cool liquid, waiting for the nausea and pain to start again. The shakes. The fever. The muscle pain. They were gone, but she didn’t feel stoned. She felt like herself.

“How…Penton?” Her voice came out this time, scratchy, dry. She drank the rest of the water in one gulp and noticed for the first time the IV in her arm. The tube led to a bag of fluid hanging on a pole.

Krys took the paper cup. “I’ll give you some more water in a few minutes, once I’m sure you can keep it down. How much do you remember? Your name’s Glory, right?”

“I was in a cage, a cell…I got taken…that man. Sir. No, I don’t remember his name…” Panicking, Glory sat up and swung her legs off the bed and was rewarded with a bad case of the room-spins. Even the blue flowers on the nightgown she was wearing were spinning. Where were her clothes?

She put her hands over her face, hoping when she uncovered her eyes she’d be back in Atlanta, getting ready to go to work at the Circle K. “I’ve got to get out of here. Vampires. I know you won’t believe me but…there are vampires. They…” She slid her hands to her neck and felt the rough terrain of scar tissue. Embarrassed, she fixed her eyes on the floor. The woman would think she was a junkie nut job who’d done this to herself somehow.

A cool hand grasped her wrist, and the woman sat on the bed next to her. “Oh yeah, there are definitely vampires. I am one.”

Glory tried to pull away, an involuntary moan rising in her throat, but the grip that held her was unyielding. “But you’re a doctor?” Vampires couldn’t be doctors, could they? And Krys had a kind face and brows wrinkled in concern. She didn’t look scary.

“Shhhh. Lie back down. That’s a long story, but I guarantee nobody here’s going to hurt you. Let me tell you what I know.” Krys stood up and gently swung Glory’s legs back up to rest on the clean white sheets. Clean. Everything was so clean, except her.

Glory’s gaze slid to the door, then to her surroundings. On television, hospital rooms always surrounded patients with steel furnishings and stiff linens and beeping equipment. This bed sported a carved headboard and all of the furniture except the rolling tray had been constructed of wood instead of steel, as if someone wanted to make the room less institutional. Even though the sole window was covered with eggshell-colored blinds, she could see out enough to tell it was nighttime. “Where did you say I was?”

Krys perched on the edge of the bed. “Penton, Alabama, near the Georgia state line. Mirren Kincaid brought you here.”

Glory frowned. “Mirren.” An image came to her of an impossibly tall man, hungry silver eyes, a vampire. “He was supposed to kill me.”

Krys laughed, and Glory saw a fash of fangs. The woman really was a vampire, and if she hadn’t been afraid she’d fall over, Glory would’ve been tempted to try and run. She’d gone from one vampire captor to another.

“Obviously, he didn’t kill you,” Krys said. “In fact, from what I understand, Mirren refused to leave that awful place without you.”

“I don’t understand.” Glory rubbed her eyes, ran her hands through her tangle of hair, and grimaced. Nasty. God, what she’d give for a shower.

Krys seemed to understand her expression. “Why don’t you see if you can stand up? If you’re steady enough, I’ll take out the IV and you can get in the shower. My friend Melissa’s about your size. She brought some clothes for you. Then we can talk.”

What did female vampires wear? Glory glanced at Krys’s forest-green sweater and jeans. Nothing weird about them. The vampires who’d taken her had all been men, rich men with a taste for tailored suits or cashmere and wool.

The doctor helped her sit up and then stand. She wobbled a little at first, but steadied as Krys removed the IV needle, swabbed the puncture wound with alcohol, and covered it with a Band-Aid. “Melissa’s another vampire?”

Krys laughed. “No, she’s my mate’s fam—his human familiar, or feeder, but also our friend. Her husband is my fam. I’ll explain it later. Believe me, it’s all pretty new to me too.”

Good, because Glory didn’t have a clue what the woman was talking about. With Krys’s help, she walked slowly to the door nearest the window, which led to a small bathroom with a tub and shower, simple pedestal sink, and toilet. A wooden cabinet on the wall next to the door was filled with folded towels and washcloths.

“There’s soap and shampoo in the shower,” Krys said, walking around her and turning on the water, testing the temperature a few times before facing her again. “Do you think you can handle it, or you need help? I don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t want…” She didn’t want another vampire touching her. Not that this woman acted anything like Sir—Matthias. Glory shuddered at the name. Was he here somewhere? Would he show up and hit her again, or drug her, or give her to one of his friends? “I think I can manage.”

Krys smiled, and her expression was kind. “Just call if you need me. Glory, I know this is hard for you to believe after what you’ve been through, but you’re safe here. Matthias Ludlam—the man who locked you up—is no friend to anyone in Penton.”

Glory wanted to believe her, but hadn’t Sir said the same thing? That she’d be safe? Until he realized she wasn’t going to tell him what she could do. Heck, she didn’t even know for sure what all she could do, except it had always been her secret.

As the shower beat hot water into her muscles and she washed away the grime of the last month, or however long it had been, bits of memory began to surface. She remembered the big vampire…what was his name? Mirren? She remembered him feeding from her and it being totally different—pleasurable, gentle, even though she’d expected him to kill her. She had expected him to keep feeding until she had nothing left.

Glory soaped her hair for the third time and stepped under the warm fall of water, letting it cascade over her face and heat her skin. She didn’t remember leaving the barred cell or coming here, but she did have vague memories of this room and other people coming and going. How long had she been here?

She also recalled being in Sir’s little room and how her muscles had ached and her head had pounded while she waited for another shot. She didn’t feel that now—she felt like herself. Matthias had gotten her hooked on something, she was sure of it. But how had she gotten off the drugs? Or was it just a matter of time before the withdrawals and cravings started again?

As if in concert with the return of her memories, she staggered with a wave of nausea. Only one thing would help it, but she wouldn’t let them give her anything. She’d get through this; she’d been through worse.

Once her fingers had shriveled from the water, she dried herself off and toweled as much moisture as she could out of her hair. The thought that she felt human again made her stifle a shaky laugh despite the drug-craving burn that had taken up residence in her veins. She might be the only human within miles, for all she knew—except for that Melissa person who’d given her clothes.

Krys had laid the folded garments on the edge of the sink, and Glory put them on, moving slowly. The stonewashed jeans were a little big in the butt and the soft blue sweater a bit snug in the bust, but they were so much better than what she’d been wearing, and they smelled freshly laundered. She wondered what happened to her old clothes and who had undressed her.
Better not go there. Too creepy.

Finger-combing her hair, Glory stared at her refection in the small mirror over the sink. Her hair had grown below shoulder length, her dark eyes were rimmed with darker circles, and her ribs were visible—that was a first.
The Vampire Abduction Diet: It’ll Suck the Pounds Right Off.

She bit her lower lip, but a giggle still escaped. She’d always laughed at the wrong time, but she had to laugh about crap like this, or it would kill her, right?

OK, time to face the vampire doctor, ask some questions, and more importantly, get some answers. Squaring her shoulders, Glory opened the door leading back into the hospital room and stopped, a wave of chill bumps racing over her skin. Her lungs threatened to close on her and refuse to let her draw breath. Krys was still in the room, but there were three men with her, all big, all studying her like a bug in a jar. Were they all vampires?

Her gaze came to rest on the tallest, leaning against the wall in a corner. Mirren. She remembered his height, his broad shoulders, and the tattoos on his neck, but his face had lost some of the gaunt, haunted expression she’d seen in the cell that night. Now, instead of a starved monster, he resembled a half-starved warrior, with a strong mouth, gray eyes, a dark moustache and goatee, and shorter black hair than she’d remembered. Black pants. Black sweater. He looked like he should be wearing armor and putting a beat-down on vicious barbarian hordes or something.
Vampire, Glory. Remember. He might have saved you from the other place so he could kill you here.

And she was staring a hole through him. He’d cocked his head and raised one eyebrow without a hint of a smile. What a total grump. She didn’t smile at him, either.

A blond-haired man, almost pretty and young enough to pass for a college student, stood in the doorway to the hall and barked out a laugh. “Mirren, you can’t make her blink. I think you’ve met your match.”

“Shut it, asshole.” Mirren kept his eyes on her.

“Ignore them. They have the manners of cavemen, I swear.” Krys bustled over and slid an arm around Glory’s waist, easing her from the bathroom door and toward the bed.

“No, not…” Glory balked. Being on a bed surrounded by might-be vampires was too much like the nightmare she’d just lived. “I can stand.”

The remaining man, maybe one of the most handsome guys Glory had ever seen, rose from a chair and dragged it toward her. “You can sit here—we’ll stay on the other side of the room, OK? Nobody touches you against your will here. I just need to ask you some questions.”

Glory pondered that for a moment. She’d probably do well to keep her mouth shut, but that had never been one of her assets. Just the opposite. One of her teachers used to call her
Motormouth
. “Yeah, well, I have a few questions myself. Who are you people? How did I get here? When can I go home? What do y’all want with me? How long have I been here?”

Yeah, she was defnitely feeling more like herself. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut. “Are you all gonna feed off me and pass me around from person to person like those other vampires? Because, I’m telling you, just go ahead and kill me now. I’m not going through that again. Like I told him”—she pointed at Mirren, whose brows had risen higher, and she could swear the edge of his mouth twitched like he was on the verge of a smile, which might crack his face in half since it didn’t look like he used that expression very often—“I don’t care anymore. If you’re going to kill me, just do it already.”

The handsome man studied her with eyes that were such a light blue they were almost startling against the deep, rich chestnut-brown hair that reached his shoulders. “I’m Aidan Murphy, and let’s just say I’m the unoffcial mayor of Penton, the town you’re in. I meant it when I said nobody touches you here against your will.” He glanced at Mirren, then at the pretty boy in the doorway. “Why don’t the rest of you leave and let me talk to Glory alone?”

Glory gave Krys an imploring look. “Please don’t go.”

Krys smiled and patted her arm. “It’s—”

“I’ll talk to her.” Mirren’s deep, rumbling voice sliced through the room like a cutter ship, leaving silence in its wake. “The rest of you, get the hell out.”

There was a long, awkward pause.

Glory’s gaze met Mirren’s. He’d saved her. He clearly wasn’t in league with Matthias and his crew, because they’d had him locked up too. He might look scary as all get-out, but he felt like safety to her.

“Glory?” Krys squeezed her hand.

Aidan Murphy and the blond-haired guy stared at Mirren like he’d grown an extra head.

She nodded. “You can go. I’ll talk to Mirren.”

CHAPTER 7