Bite Me if You Can (4 page)

He should have moved forward, though, he realized a moment later when he got a good whack in the back of the knees that nearly sent him to the floor. Grabbing the rail that ran around the elevator, he caught himself and ground his teeth as he was repeatedly pummeled through the bag. Distracted by the beating he was taking, it wasn’t until Bricker began to whistle loudly that Lucian realized Leigh wasn’t just thrashing about, she was moaning, too.

Noting that the other two couples were now looking around with confusion, searching for the source of the moans, Lucian began to whistle as well. Unfortunately, he had no idea what tune Bricker was whistling, so started an entirely new one. When that didn’t wholly drown the sounds Leigh was making, Mortimer joined in with a tune of his own.

It was a great relief when the elevator dinged, the door opened, and the last two couples rushed out. Lucian moved away from the suitcase as the doors closed, relieved to note that the next floor was their own.

He rolled his eyes as Mortimer bent to rub one hand soothingly over the part of the suitcase that kept bulging outward, and murmured, “Its all right, Leigh. We’re almost there.”

“Don’t do that,” Bricker said. “You don’t know what you’re rubbing.”

Shaking his head, Lucian turned away as the door opened onto their floor. Mortimer and Bricker were two of the toughest hardasses he knew, but they had been acting like a couple of old women ever since Leigh appeared. It was almost painful to watch.

Leaving the two men to bring their burden at their own speed, Lucian strode down the hall to the door of their two bedroom suite. He was seated on the side of his bed, kicking his shoes off, when he finally heard them enter.

Pushing his shoes aside, Lucian stood and began to undo his shirt as he walked to the door. He arrived just in time to see them finish unzipping the suitcase. Before they could open it, Leigh had thrown it open and tumbled out. Both men immediately let the suitcase drop and rushed to her side. It only took one look for Lucian to see that she wasn’t conscious. She was pale, sweat was pouring off her, and she was now thrashing around on the ground, almost appearing to be in convulsions.

Lucian watched Mortimer and Bricker move her to the couch, but when they began to flap over her like a couple of useless old women, he decided it was time to step in and take control.

“One of you has to take the suitcase back, then head to the nearest hospital and get a portable IV set up and more blood.”

“I’ll go.” Mortimer took the suitcase, zipped it up, then headed for the door. “How much blood?”

“Lot’s of it. And another cooler, too,” Lucian added, then glanced at the screaming woman and added, “And some drugs to kill the pain and make her sleep.”

“What do I do?” Bricker asked as Mortimer hurried out of the room.

Lucian shrugged. “Watch her to be sure she doesn’t hurt herself.”

“Shouldn’t I try to give her some blood, or something?” Bricker asked, concern on his face. It was obvious he was desperate to do something of use.

“You can try, but she’ll probably just choke on it and vomit it back up at this stage.”

“What?” Bricker asked with amazement. “Well, how the hell did people go through the turn before IVs and stuff?”

Lucian grimaced. “They suffered through it until their teeth finished changing, then we carefully allowed them to feed.”

“How long will it take for her teeth to change?” Bricker asked.

Lucian shook his head wearily. “It’s different with each person, Bricker. It depends on size, age, how much blood she got, how fast her natural metabolism is... ”

The man looked so forlorn that Lucian nearly walked over to pat his back reassuringly. Instead, he turned back into his room. “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me if anyone calls.”

Lucian woke up reluctantly a short time later, scowling as his consciousness was assaulted by a cacophony of sound.

Leigh was now obviously well into the throes of turning. She was shrieking long and hard and nonstop. The sound was desperate, grating, and nearly drowned out someone hammering at the door of the suite.

Growling under his breath, Lucian turned on his side, punched his pillow and closed his eyes determinedly, but when a man’s shouting joined the screaming and banging, he cursed and rolled out of bed.

Irritated to have what little sleep he was going to get disturbed, Lucian strode to the door to the living room and jerked it open, stepped out, then simply stood there gaping.

Leigh was no longer on the couch where the men had first put her. She was now on the floor in the middle of the cleared room, thrashing, kicking, writhing, and rolling. But it was Bricker who had shocked Lucian. At first glance one could be forgiven for thinking he was mauling the girl. The large, dark vampire was lying sprawled sideways across her torso, one hand stretching up to try to hold both of hers, the other reaching down to try to keep hold of her ankles as he bounced, jerked, and jolted around on her undulating body.

“What the hell are you doing?” Lucian finally asked, having to shout to be heard over Leigh’s screams.

“Trying to keep her from hurting herself!” Bricker yelled back, grabbing at the hand that got loose and began to hammer anything in its way; the floor, the couch, Bricker himself.

“Well there’s someone at the door. Didn’t you hear the knocking?” Lucian asked with exasperation.

Bricker turned a disbelieving look over his shoulder. “Yeah. But I’m a little busy here.”

“Jesus Christ, Bricker! You’re stronger than the woman. Restrain her,” he snapped impatiently.

“I don’t want to hurt her trying to keep her from hurting herself,” the man snapped back.

The pounding at the door got louder, and the shouting now sounded like more than one voice. Sighing, Lucian moved toward it. “I’ll get the damned door, then.”

“Gee, thanks a lot.” Bricker sounded less than appreciative.

Lucian opened the door to find himself staring at three men: a diminutive man in a suit, who was obviously the manager; and two large beefy guys in security uniforms. He forced them all backward as he stepped into the hall, then pulled the door closed behind him to shut out the screaming. It didn’t work very well—the screams were muffled but still voluble.

“We’ve had some complaints about the noise,” the manager began, his voice trembling with outrage, then he gave up all pretense at polite inquiry and snapped, “What the hell is going on in there, Mr. Argeneau?”

Lucian didn’t even bother to try to explain. It was impossible to explain anyway. Instead, he slid into the mind of the manager and took control, blanking his thoughts. He then turned his attention to each of the security guards. Within moments the men were on their way back to the elevator, the entire incident removed from their memory. Lucian watched them onto the elevator, then turned to open the door to the suite and found it locked. And he hadn’t thought to bring the key-card with him. He knocked, but knew it was a useless endeavor. There was no way Bricker would hear him over the racket going on inside.

He slumped against the door, giving up any hope of getting back inside any time soon.

Lucian was nodding off outside the suite door when someone shook his shoulder. Blinking his eyes open, he lifted his head and jumped quickly to his feet when he saw Mortimer standing over him, holding a large cooler.

“What are you doing out here?” Mortimer handed him the cooler so he could pull out his own key card and slide it into the lock. The light turned green and he opened the door.

Lucian just shook his head and moved past him. He was too tired to bother with explanations. As Mortimer rushed over to help Bricker restrain the woman, Lucian set the cooler on the coffee table, which had been moved across the room, probably to prevent Leigh from slamming her head into it.

The first thing Lucian looked for were the drugs. Spotting the syringes and ampoules, he took them out, selected the one most likely to silence and hopefully still the woman, and inserted the needle. He drew the liquid into the syringe as he crossed to where both men were now wrestling with Leigh, and knelt to jerk the sleeve of her blouse up her arm. Holding her arm firmly with one hand, he used the other to inject her. She went silent and still almost before he removed the needle from her arm.

Grunting with satisfaction, Lucian stood and walked back to the coffee table. He set the syringe on it, then reached into the cooler for one of the bags of blood. Slapping it to his teeth, he dropped into one of the overstuffed chairs and let his head drop wearily back and his eyes close.

Lucian stayed like that, ignoring the murmur of Mortimer and Bricker’s voices until the bag was empty. Then he lifted his head and opened his eyes as he pulled the empty blood bag from his mouth.

The two men had moved Leigh back onto the couch, he saw. They’d situated her with pillows and a blanket, set up an IV of blood that ran down into her arm, and were now both fussing over her. Bricker was wringing out a cool cloth and using it to wash the sweat off her neck, hands, and lower arms, while Mortimer placed another cloth over her forehead, left it for a minute, then took it, dipped it in the water, wrung it out, and placed it back on her forehead again.

Lucian found himself just gaping. He’d never seen anything like it. These two were hard, heartless hunters. What had gotten into them?

The phone on the table beside him rang, and he reached over to pick it up. Relief coursed through him at the sound of Bastien’s voice.

“You got lucky,” his nephew announced. “One of the directors was supposed to fly from Lincoln, Nebraska, to California today, but business is keeping him another day, so he doesn’t need the plane. It’s coming to pick you up in Kansas.”

“Hmm,” Lucian murmured. “What time will it get here?”

“If you leave for the airport now, you might just get there first.”

Lucian sat up abruptly. “That quickly?”

“It’s on the way now, and Lincoln’s a hell of a lot closer than Toronto,” Bastien pointed out.

“Yes, but, I have to—”

“I already ordered a limo for you,” Bastien interrupted soothingly. “It should be there any minute, and I arranged with the rental company to pick up your car from the hotel parking garage.”

Lucian opened his mouth to say he’d still need it. He had no intention of getting on the plane. He was going to put Leigh on it, have Thomas pick her up at the airport and deliver her to Marguerite’s for his sister-in-law to look after. However, he changed his mind and let the order go. They didn’t need two vehicles. He could ride in the van with Mortimer and Bricker. They’d only ended up with both the car and truck because the boys had flown in the day before him. Since they were busy gathering information on Morgan, he’d rented a car rather than take a taxi to the hotel. Lucian hated taxis. As far as he was concerned, taxi drivers all drove as if they had a death wish... and they talked too much. How could they claim to be concentrating on traffic, traffic lights, and pedestrians with their mouths constantly flapping?

“Is there anything else you needed?” Bastien asked.

“No,” Lucian said abruptly. “That’s fine.”

“Good, then you’d better get moving.”

Lucian thought Bastien might have said good-bye, but wasn’t sure. He was already setting the phone down.

“No.”

“What do you mean no?” Lucian stared with amazement at the pilot, Bob Whithead. They were standing on the tarmac between the limo and the waiting plane, a cool breeze and cold rain spitting down on them. Bob was the only one with an umbrella and wasn’t in the mood to share.

“Just what I said. I’m a pilot, not a babysitter. I’ll be too damned busy to look after the girl. Either you arrange for someone to accompany her or she doesn’t go.”

“The co-pilot can... ” Lucian’s words faded as the pilot firmly shook his head.

“I need Ted in the cockpit. There’s a reason there are both a pilot and co-pilot, and it isn’t in case a passenger needs their blood bag changed or their hand held.”

“Do you know who I am?” Lucian asked shortly. He wasn’t used to being told no, and didn’t like it.

“I know who you are,” Bob assured him grimly. “And it doesn’t matter one damned bit. I am not taking an unattended woman who is in the middle of turning onto my plane. What if she attacks me or my co-pilot?” He shook his head. “No way.”

“I’ll accompany her,” Mortimer offered. “It’s only two hours or so there, two hours back. I’ll be back before you two wake up.”

“Fine,” Bob said abruptly. “As long as there’s someone with her.”

Mortimer reached for Leigh as the pilot turned to walk back to the plane, but Bricker stepped forward in protest.

“No, I want to go with her. I’ve never seen a turning before. It will be good experience.”

“That’s the perfect reason why I should go,” Mortimer argued. “I have seen a turning. I know what to expect and how best to help her.”

Lucian rolled his eyes as the two men began to argue. They’d come to blows in a minute. There was obviously only one way to resolve the matter.

“I’m taking her,” Lucian announced. “You two go back to the hotel and get some rest. I’ve had at least a little sleep. I’ll ride there with her, then sleep on the flight back.”

Ted was waiting just inside the door of the plane. He stepped back out of the way, and greeted Lucian as he boarded.

“I put the blood in the refrigerator in the seating area,” the man said, pulling the steps up and the plane door closed as Lucian carried Leigh toward the sleeping section in the back. “I didn’t set up the IV, though. There’s a hook for the bag on each wall above the beds. There are intercoms in each section. You can use it to reach us in the cockpit if you need anything.”

Lucian grunted an acknowledgment.

“Bob said to remind you to shut off your cell phone if you have one, and to tell you to get the girl settled, then buckle yourself in. We’ll be taking off in about five minutes.”

Aware the man was already moving away to return to the cockpit, Lucian didn’t bother to respond. He’d reached the sleeping section, a small room with an upper and lower bed on either side and a narrow aisle down the middle. He set Leigh in the bottom bed on the left, then quickly hung the blood bag from the hook in the wall. Her bag was almost empty, and he slipped back through the plane to the small refrigerator where the blood had been stowed.