Rise of the Fallen (19 page)

The SUV tore through the quiet, late-night streets, tires
squealing as Trace hopped the speed bump just inside the entrance to the
hospital.

"Emergency! Emergency!" Micah pointed to the
hospital's emergency entrance.

"I know!" Trace swerved down a row of cars and
haphazardly jutted into an empty space at an angle and slammed on his brakes,
throwing it into park.

Both jumped out and sprinted toward the door. They burst
through and nearly ran over a patient in a wheelchair.

"Hey! Slow down!" A nurse yelled at them from
behind the check-in desk.

"Sam Garrett," Micah said, crashing into the desk
and smacking his hand on the counter.

The nurse ricocheted back in her chair and obviously got the
clue that Micah and Trace weren't men to be fucked with, diverting her
attention to her computer. Her fingers dashed over the keyboard.

"She's with the doctor now, room C4."

Micah and Trace took off for the double doors to the back.

"Hey, you can't go back there!"

"Stop me!" Micah pushed through the doors and
frantically searched for room C4. Doctors and nurses frowned and scurried out
of his way, protesting, but none tried to stop him.

"Got it!" Trace called from the other end of the
hall.

Micah spun and ran to join him, out of breath with panic as
he looked up at the door number, confirming it.

Pushing against the handle, he walked in and the doctor
glanced up from the chart he was scanning. A nurse was drawing blood from Sam
as she lay semi-conscious on the sterile gurney.

"Excuse me," the doctor said. "But who let
you in here."

Micah ignored him. He seethed with malice that harm had come
to his precious female.

"She's mine," he said.

Taking a new tack, the doctor said, "And you are?"

"Micah." Sam's weak voice reached him. Her
semi-lucid eyes were barely open.

The doctor turned at the sound and shook his head.
"Well, that's the first thing she's said since she got here, so it looks
like you get to stay, Micah. But your friend will have to—"

"He stays," Micah said, his voice unwavering and
warning the doctor not to test him on this. "What's wrong with her?"

"We're not sure. The bruising indicates she was choked
by someone very strong, but that doesn't account for why her body's systems are
shutting down." The look the doctor gave Micah indicated it didn't look
good. "We're running blood tests to see if her attacker might have
injected her with something, but so far we're drawing a blank."

Micah and Trace exchanged glances. Apostle must have bitten
her.

The nurse finished filling the last vial and bandaged Sam's
arm, collecting the tray of blood-filled tubes—Sam's blood…Her priceless,
exquisite, life-giving blood—and left the room as the doctor followed her to
the door.

"I'll be back as soon as I know more. Try talking to
her. See if she can remember anything."

As soon as the door hissed closed, Micah looked at Trace and
tilted his head. Trace jumped in front of the door and blocked it from opening.

"He bit her, didn't he?" Trace said, keeping his
voice quiet.

Micah turned her arm over, looking for signs of the bite. A
dreck's bite healed quickly. A human wouldn't be able to detect it, but he
could.

"Nothing on this arm," he said. He turned his
attention to her neck. "Sam, I'm here, okay? I'm going to get you out of
here and fix this."

"You're not thinking of—" Trace's voice sounded
wary.

"Yes," Micah said, cutting him off.

"Tristan will go apeshit."

"I don't give a fuck about Tristan." Micah's only
concern right now was Sam. He refused to lose another mate. "Put it this
way, Trace, if she dies, you'll have to kill me before I kill you."

"Gotcha." Trace's voice held a grim note. It was
clear he didn't like any of the options.

"He didn't bite her neck, either," Micah said,
finishing his inspection and reaching for her other arm. His eyes traveled her
skin, scrutinizing, picking through each tiny freckle or discoloration.
"Got it," he said. "Here, on her wrist."

"You going to do it here?" Trace said. He shifted
uneasily, his voice edgy.

"I have to. I don't know how much time she's got."

 Trace blew out a less-than-excited burst of air. It was
clear he wasn't comfortable with this, but there was no choice.

"After I'm done, we need to get her out of here. Can
you take care of the humans while I carry her?"

Trace fidgeted, not answering.

"Trace?" Micah turned pleading eyes on him.
"Please."

"You're fucking with the human world," Trace said,
his brow furrowed.

"I know, but I can't lose her. I can't. She's my mate,
Trace. Okay? My mate, for Christ's sake."

"Your mate? Already?" It was clear Trace was
shocked he had bonded to another so soon after Jackson, even though they had
discussed it the night before.

"Yes, Trace. She's my mate. I love her."

The two stared uneasily at each other for a few seconds.

Trace finally nodded and looked down. "Okay, do it.
I'll run cover so you can get her out."

Trace had extraordinary skills when it came to compelling
humans. Micah had never seen anything like it, but then again, he was a day
walker, and day walkers always came bundled with special abilities. It was
suddenly clear to Micah that he had partnered with Trace for a reason. He
needed Trace's special abilities now.

"Thank you."

Trace actually looked surprised to hear the show of
gratitude from Micah, but then Micah wasn't known for such sentiments, or much
of anything else congenial and well mannered.

Sam stirred and looked at him through glazed eyes. "I'm
sorry," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Don't be."

"I'm dying."

"No you're not. I'm going to save you. It's my turn to
save you now," he said.

She tried to smile, but her lips barely moved.

"Just hold on, okay. This will hurt, but I have to do
it."

She closed her eyes again, and Micah pulled her wrist to his
mouth, studying the faint bite mark. He had to bite as close to where Apostle's
teeth had pierced her skin. Triggering the glands in his mouth to release his
venom, he licked the bite mark, numbing it.

"Are you ready?"

She barely nodded her head, too weak even to do that.

Micah licked her wrist again, his venom numbing her nerves
even further, and with a silent prayer he opened his mouth and bit down. Sam's
body stiffened, then relaxed, and then he let his venom flow. Vampire venom
trumped dreck venom, but age mattered. The older the vampire, the stronger the
venom. And Micah was very old, which was crucial for what he was trying to do.

First came the euphoria then Sam's body began to shiver then
shudder. Her teeth chattered, and painful groans gurgled in her throat.

"Her eyes are open," Trace said.

Micah felt Trace's special powers unfurl and Sam's body
calmed. He could only imagine her pain as his venom spread through her, waging
war on Apostle's evil offering, eradicating it. Even with Trace's powers
wrapped around Sam like a protective cocoon, she eventually began to tremble
again, tensing and straining against the burn until finally she let loose a
scream that would have awakened the dead.

Trace jumped to attention and stepped back.

Micah wasn't finished. He needed more time. Just a few more
seconds, but Sam's screams were about to bring the full force of the emergency
department barreling through the door.

The door swung open and Trace threw his arm up, his fingers
splayed in the open air. The nurse flung back against the wall as if he'd hit
her.

"Fuck! I didn't mean to blast her so hard," Trace
said. "Are you done, yet?!" He helped the unconscious nurse to a
chair and flung around as the door flew open again. Invisible energy splintered
the air from Trace's outstretched hand once more, stopping the two orderlies
that rushed in, freezing them in mid-glide.

Sam screamed again, and Micah could sense more people
coming.

"Hurry, Micah!"

Finally, it was done. He'd given her all he had and released
her wrist. The bite mark instantly sealed from his venom's healing properties.
He threw the white blanket off her and pulled her into his arms.

"Go!" He shouted to Trace.

Trace charged out of the room, holding up both arms and
stopping everybody in the hall. Not a soul moved, and he turned and looked over
his shoulder at Micah. "Come on."

Micah carried Sam out and down the hall, dodging around the
frozen doctors and nurses who had been in mid-stride on their way to Sam's
room.

"You wiping them?" Micah asked.

"Already done. They'll never remember she was here. Or
us." Trace jogged after him, keeping the humans suspended until they
reached the double doors that led back into the waiting area.

"Hey!" the lady behind the desk shouted.

"Trace!" Micah shouted back at him.

The nurse suddenly locked up like someone had put on her
brakes then Micah and Trace shot out the doors to the SUV.

* * *

When the nurse came to, she shook her head and looked
around, confused. As she sat back down at her desk, she glanced at her computer
and frowned at the record on the screen. Who the hell was Samantha Garrett?
They hadn't admitted anyone by that name tonight. Suddenly, a black SUV shot
past the entrance toward the exit and she scowled with a huff. That jerk needed
to slow down or he was going to kill someone.

The woman fucking Steve was one of his nurses. Young and
fresh, her enhanced tits bounced as she bobbed up and down on his dick,
squealing and crying out like those girls in the online porn he watched.
Couldn't she just be natural and not put on a show. Fuck, he didn't have
cameras in his room, for Pete's sake. Did she think men liked this kind of
performance when all they wanted was a hard, raw screw? She definitely wasn't
Samantha. Sure, she would get him off and rock his balls, but Steve didn't
think he would be inviting Sabrina home with him again.

It was the same with all the women he brought home. Drinks,
dinner, and fucking that left Steve less than impressed, not to mention
unsatisfied. But until he tracked down his wife, these tarts would have to do.

"Uuunnnhhhh, yes, ooohhhhh, uh-huh, mmmmmmm,"

Steve fought not to roll his eyes. He'd be happier with his
hand and internet porn right now. Maybe he should put his hand over her mouth
and shut her up.

He was just about to do that when his cell vibrated on the
nightstand. Thank God! Saved!

"Don't answer it, baby," Barbie doll said, fucking
him in earnest to try to keep his attention. If she only knew she had lost his
attention several minutes ago, she wouldn't have tried so hard.

"I have to, now stop," he pushed her off, his dick
blessedly free of her squishy cunt. She pouted like a child, flopping to the
other side of the bed.

Sitting up, he snatched his phone, ready to send a check for
one thousand dollars to whoever was calling him just to say thanks for putting
him out of his misery. When he saw the name on his caller I.D. he changed his
mind. Make that ten thousand dollars.

"Yeah. Tell me you've got good news." David
wouldn't be calling him at this hour if he didn't.

"A hit in Chicago. A Samantha Garrett was just admitted
into a hospital. Everything matches."

Steve snapped his fingers at the Barbie on his bed, then
pointed to her clothes, making it clear it was time for her to go. "Which
hospital."

"Saint Augustine."

"Why is she there?" Steve frowned at Sabrina, who
had sat up and crossed her arms. He gestured again toward her clothes and
mouthed
now.
She was going to irritate him, he could just feel it.

"Mugging or something. God I love electronic health
records. Makes my job easier."

"Yours maybe, but not mine," Steve said, although
at the moment he thanked the administration for mandating their use. "She
still there?"

"As far as I can tell."

"Anything else?"

"I've gotten in touch with the local police and just
found the dispatch record from where it was called in. I've got an address
where she was found. Looks like she was discovered unconscious by a pizza
delivery boy. I'll put it together and have it to you within the
half-hour."

David was proving to be well worth every dime. A year with
that other P.I. hadn't turned up even one nibble, but David had flushed
Samantha out in a matter of days. He had to be one of the best investigators
and hackers in the country.

"You just made Santa Claus very happy," Steve
said.

"Think he'll leave something in my stocking this year,
then?"

"Is your stocking big enough to hold that much
money?"

David chuckled. "I'll buy a bigger stocking if I have
to."

Steve was already pulling clothes out of his closet, pleased
to see that Sabrina had taken a hint and was putting on her dress. She didn't
look happy, but screw her. He had a plane to catch.

"Thanks, David. I'll look for your email."

"No problem."

He disconnected and tossed his phone on the bed before going
to the bathroom and turning on the shower to let the water heat up.

"You know the way out," he said to Sabrina as he
returned to the room and grabbed a pair of briefs from the drawer.

"Yeah. Call me later?"

"Yeah, sure I will." Yeah, like hell he would.

She walked toward him to give him a kiss good night, but he
turned away and went back to the bathroom. "See you, Sabrina."

"Uh, yeah, okay."

When Steve returned to his room after his shower, she was
gone. Thank God. Now he could focus on packing his overnight bag without her
needy, puppy dog hovering. He checked his email, but nothing from David had
arrived, yet, so he hopped over to the travel site and found a non-stop that
flew out of Denver at six o'clock. He had a little less than four hours. Plenty
of time. He could be in Chicago by mid-morning.