Runaway Vampire (21 page)

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Authors: Lynsay Sands

BOOK: Runaway Vampire
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Dante was out of his seat and rushing for the door before she'd finished speaking.

M
ary woke to the hum of an engine and rumble of voices and for a minute, didn't have a clue where she was. She also couldn't open her eyes at first, or even move, she realized, and felt panic well up within her as she tried to sort out what was happening.

“Dr. Dressler is going to be mighty pleased with this shipment,” a man said, his voice filled with what sounded like glee. “Five vampires, two of them twins, and one a new turn. He'll give us a huge bonus for this.”

“Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Ernie,” another voice cautioned. “Right now we only have the woman and the one twin. We haven't captured the rest of them yet.”

“We will,” Ernie said with certainty. “That waitress told the fangers like you paid her to, and they're following us. Once we stop at the warehouse, they'll rush the van to save the girl and Danny and Jackson'll take 'em out with the darts. Easy peasy.”

Mary frowned at this news, and actually felt her mouth move. Whatever they'd shot her with must be wearing off, she thought, and opened her eyes, happy when she was able to. She opened them all the way, and then closed them to slits in an effort not to give away that she was stirring. Mary then glanced around to see that she was lying on the floor in the back of a van. She had been placed along the wall behind the driver's seat with her head toward the front of the van and her feet toward the back.

Mary tried to tilt her head back to look at the men who were speaking, but her head didn't move. She didn't think it would be long before it would; her fingers al
ready had movement again, as did her hands, although she couldn't move them far. She seemed to be tied up or something. She could move her feet too though, and they were bound. Still, the rest of her felt like she'd been given some kind of numbing agent. Whatever the darts held was definitely wearing off quickly.

“How much do you think our bonus will be for this one?” Ernie asked, his voice excited.

“I don't know,” the driver muttered. “All I'm thinking about is making sure those fangers don't catch up with us before we get to the warehouse.”

“They're still two car lengths back,” Ernie said, his voice growing a little louder and Mary stilled, her eyes closing. She was quite sure the man had turned to glance back toward her as he spoke so stayed as still as she could, practically holding her breath.

“We still have six blocks to the warehouse,” the driver said grimly.

“Yeah, but they won't try anything on a busy street,” Ernie said, his voice returning to the quieter level, suggesting he'd turned away again.

Relaxing a little, Mary carefully opened her eyes and glanced toward the front of the van. This time she was able to tilt her head. Her gaze slid over the driver and passenger, Ernie. All she could see was the backs of their heads over the seats. Both had dark hair.

Lowering her head again, Mary started feeling around with her fingers, trying to sort out what she'd been tied up with. A quick inspection of whatever was around her wrists told her she hadn't been tied. Instead, something that felt very like shackles to her
were around each wrist. The shackles both had chains flowing away from them. Following the chains with her fingers, she found that it was actually one chain connecting both shackles. But that it was threaded through some sort of metal circle attached to the sidewall of the van, she noted, wincing as the chain made a clanking sound behind her.

Mary stilled, her eyes instinctively closing in case the sound made one of the men glance back, but their conversation continued, unhindered.

“The bonus has to be huge,” Ernie muttered. “Hell, even if we don't catch the others, he's gonna be pleased with the woman. Especially once he finds out that the hottie in the back was an old broad just yesterday. He said he thought the fangers could turn mortals and she's proof they can.”

“Maybe, but we still don't know how they did it, and he'll want to know that more than anything else,” the driver pointed out. Mary dubbed him Bert rather than keeping thinking of him as “the driver.”

“So? She'll know,” Ernie said with certainty. “He'll make her tell him.”

“Actually, I almost feel sorry for the woman,” Bert said, “From what Jackson says, some of the experiments the doc performs on the fangers are pretty nasty.”

“This is no time to be going soft,” Ernie said firmly. “Just think of the bonus we're going to get.”

Mary's mouth tightened. Dante had said people had been going missing in San Antonio. What he'd meant was immortals, she realized, and she and the others were going to join their ranks if she didn't do some
thing about it. It seemed to her that she was the only one who could. Dante, Russell and Francis had no idea they were being led into a trap. She did. If she could somehow warn them, or get out of her chains . . .

She wasted a moment trying to force her hands out of the shackles, but quickly gave it up as a lost cause. They were too tight. She considered the situation briefly as the men continued to talk and then she grasped the chains higher up their length, closer to the metal circle they were threaded through and gave a tug.

Mary wasn't terribly surprised when nothing happened. While Dante had said the nanos made them stronger and faster and all that, she suspected they didn't work so quickly that she would suddenly be as strong as the Hulk.

Despite that, she blindly felt her way up to the metal circle and, just for shits and giggles, tried to turn it like it was a wing nut. Much to Mary's amazement the circle apparently wasn't well affixed to its base, that or her tug had loosened it. The metal turned under her pressure, just a little, but it turned. Grasping it more firmly, she tried again, and it snapped off.

Mary was so surprised by her success that she just lay there for a minute, her heart pounding and eyes wide, but then she started trying to figure out what she should do next. She was free and needed to stop the van before it reached this warehouse they'd mentioned. How much time did she have? Mary wondered. And how the hell was she supposed to stop the van?

Her gaze slid to the side door of the van. It was just feet in front of her, and Mary supposed she could prob
ably leap the short distance, slide the door open and leap out before Bert or Ernie could stop her. The only problem was she didn't know what kind of road they were on. Was it one lane or two lanes? If it was two lanes, she might get run over by a vehicle coming along in the next lane when she tumbled out of the van. Or even a vehicle behind them if it was one lane.

Mary knew she'd probably survive getting run over, but there was the possibility that she might get injured badly enough that she couldn't warn Dante, Russell and Francis. They would no doubt stop and jump out to rush to her, and then Bert and Ernie would just shoot them with their darts . . . maybe. It depended on how willing they were to abduct them all in public.

Maybe she could stop them without leaping out, Mary thought hopefully, and slowly eased one foot back and up behind her butt, trying to find and poke it through the chain now lying between her hands. All she needed to do was get the chain in front of her rather than behind her and she could use it as a weapon.

Fortunately it was a longish chain. It wasn't huge or anything, but it was long enough that Mary was able to ease first one foot into it and then the other and then draw the chain slowly forward until it was around her knees, and then in front of her.

Mary kept her gaze on the men in the front as she did it, watching to make sure that the small clinks and clanks of the chains didn't attract attention. But Ernie, she saw, had his window open and the traffic noises appeared to mask any noise she was making. At least he didn't glance around, and neither did Bert.

“They're right behind us now,” Ernie announced grimly.

“Good, we're almost there. One more block,” Bert said, sounding just as grim, and she heard the vehicle accelerate.

Time's up
, Mary thought.

Sending up a quick prayer, she rolled abruptly onto her hands and knees and then pushed upward with both hands and feet to lunge toward the front of the van. Dante had said that the nanos improved speed, but to her it seemed almost like time slowed. She saw Ernie's head slowly turning, as if the noise she'd made had drawn his attention, but she was behind the driver's seat, swinging the chain that dangled between her hands over Bert's head and down to his throat before Ernie had turned his head halfway around.

“Stop the van,” Mary snapped, tugging the chain tight behind Bert's neck. When he didn't obey at once, she snapped, “Now!” then glanced quickly toward Ernie as he began to move, reaching for a dart gun that lay on the dashboard.

“I'll break his neck!” Mary barked in warning.

Ernie froze, his hand halfway to the gun. Turning back to peer at her, he eyed her briefly with calculation, and then pointed out, “We'd crash.”

Eyes narrowing, Mary said calmly, “I'd survive. Would you?”

Ernie started to frown, but before the expression was fully formed he paused and smiled instead. “You're a nice old grandma. You won't kill him.”

“Sonny,” Mary growled. “I'm a crotchety old lady in
a strong young vampire body and right now you look an awful lot like a walking blood bank to me. Do you really want to test my patience?”

Apparently, he did. Ernie tried for the dart gun, and Mary instinctively shifted to jump at him, intending to stop him. Unfortunately, she forgot about poor old Bert and the chain around his neck. She heard the crunch of what could only be bone breaking as she unintentionally snapped his neck, and then the van swerved wildly.

“Crap,” Mary breathed as she looked out the front windshield and saw the telephone pole they were about to crash into.
That's gonna hurt
, she thought just before impact.

Fifteen

M
ary turned over sleepily and snuggled into the pillow under her head with a little sigh, then sniffed with interest as the scent of lavender teased her nose. Wondering where it was coming from, she opened her eyes and stared at the alarm clock radio sitting on the bedside table in front of her. It wasn't her clock radio; that was her first thought, and then she rolled over and glanced around the room she was in, which also wasn't hers.

Sitting up abruptly, Mary peered around at the pale blue walls, the sitting chairs by the window, the mirrored sliding closet doors, and the two normal doors in the room. This definitely was not her home or the RV. Not a hotel either, though, she thought and then glanced curiously at the contraption next to the bed. An IV stand, she noted, and followed the tubing coming out of it down to the back of her hand. She raised her hand and eyed it
curiously, wondering why she'd needed it, then glanced down at herself, eyebrows rising when she saw that she was wearing a pretty white cotton nightgown with spaghetti-string shoulder straps . . . also not hers.

A hospital? She considered the possibility, but hospitals didn't look this nice; at least none of them that she'd been in had. Besides, they usually smelled of disinfectant, not lavender.

Sighing, Mary pushed the blankets aside and slid her feet off the bed, then paused and glanced around the room again, before deciding to try the door to the right of the bed first. She had to go to the bathroom, and knew that one of the two doors in the room would either lead to a bathroom or a hallway that would lead to a bathroom. Either one would get her closer than just sitting there, so Mary pushed herself to her feet and then paused and grabbed the IV stand to balance herself when the room started a slow spin. It only lasted a minute before the room settled and her equilibrium was restored, but it was kind of startling. Keeping her hold on the IV stand, Mary pulled it along with her just in case the room decided to do another dance move. Much to her relief, however, she made it to the door without anything else happening.

Opening the door, Mary was relieved to see that it was indeed a bathroom. She'd figured a bedroom wouldn't have two exits, but one never knew. Especially since she had no idea where she was. She wheeled the stand into the room with her and positioned it between the toilet and the counter holding the sink and then hiked up her nightgown and sat on the toilet.

It was while she was sitting there that the first shaft of agony struck. Mary gasped in pained surprise, and immediately grabbed her head, trying to keep it from blowing apart. However, the pain eased and waned just as quickly as it had struck, leaving her breathing cautiously in and out as she waited warily to see if it would strike again. After a little time had passed without a recurrence, she let out her breath slowly and reached for the toilet paper.

It wasn't until she stood and moved to wash her hands that Mary even glanced to the mirror, and then she froze, the room spinning around her as she stared at her forehead. There was a large, ugly scar cutting across the top of her head, from her forehead back and the top of her head around it was slightly misshapen, like it had been caved in but was pushing its way back out.

Mary grabbed for the counter to steady herself, then screamed and grabbed for her head as another shaft of pain crashed through her skull, sending her to her knees. She thought she heard someone shout her name, but she was already losing consciousness.

T
he next time Mary woke up, the IV was gone and there was a warm body in front of her as well as one at her back. Opening her eyes, she peered at the furry body she had her arm around.

Bailey.

She was back from the vet, Mary thought, and smiled, her arm tightening slightly around the dog.

Bailey immediately turned her head and tipped it back slightly to look at her and Mary gave her another squeeze, whispering, “Hello, sweetie. It's okay. Go back to sleep.”

The German shepherd laid her head back down with the little huff of sound that she usually made when she was content, and Mary lifted her head slightly to glance to the rather large arm that was wrapped around her from behind.

Dante, she thought. At least she hoped it was. Otherwise, she and Bailey were in the wrong place.

“Mary?”

She stilled at that whisper, then turned her own head and tilted it back to look at the handsome man presently wrapped around her.

Dante smiled and bent to press a kiss to her nose, then asked solemnly, “How is your head?”

Mary stiffened, her smile freezing, and then she sat abruptly upright, knocking his arm away and nearly sending Bailey tumbling to the floor as she grabbed her head and began to feel it. It felt fine. Normal, she thought with relief, but—

Climbing out of the blankets and over Bailey, she stumbled to the door next to the bed and into the bathroom to see if it truly was all right. Mary's breath left her on a sigh of relief when she saw that her head was back to normal. Even the scar was gone, she noted, parting her hair to get a look at her scalp. There wasn't even a thin line to show where the injury had been.

“It is all healed,” Dante said gently. “At least on the outside.”

Mary turned to glance at him and started to nod, but paused when she saw that he was naked. Again.

“Honestly, do you have an allergy to clothes or something?” she asked with exasperation. “Every time I turn around you're naked.”

Dante's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to respond, then gasped in surprise when she suddenly leapt at him . . . literally. She jumped him like a monkey, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips as she covered his mouth with hers.

Dante chuckled into her mouth and caught her under the bottom to keep her from slipping before he turned and set her on the bathroom counter. Breaking their kiss then, he nuzzled her ear and murmured, “I think you like me naked.”

“I do,” Mary admitted huskily, pressing kisses to his shoulder as he nibbled at her ear. “You should always be naked.”

“Always?” he asked, tugging her nightgown off one shoulder.

“Always,” she assured him, pulling back to run her hands over his chest as he tried to bare hers. “Thank you for getting Bailey back.”

“She is a good dog, and you love her. I would not leave her behind,” he assured her solemnly, and then giving up on getting her nightgown down, he simply bent and closed his mouth over one nipple through the cloth.

Mary moaned as the cloth grew wet and his tongue moved it across her immediately erect nipple.

“How long was I out this time?” she asked on a gasp, arching her back.

Dante reached down to begin pushing her nightgown up her legs before answering. “Two days.”

“Two?” Mary muttered, lifting one butt cheek off the counter and then the other so that he could get the nightgown out from under her.

“You took a very serious head wound,” he said solemnly, and dropped her nightgown to cup her face between his hands. “You must never allow yourself to be so harmed again. I thought my heart would stop when I found you after the van crashed.”

Dante leaned down to kiss her gently and Mary sighed against his lips. “I'm sorry. It was my fault. I accidentally broke Bert's neck when Ernie went for the dart gun.”

“Bert?” he asked with confusion. “One of the men was Ernie, but the other was Bob, not Bert.”

Mary smiled crookedly. “I didn't know his name so I gave him a nickname.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Bert and Ernie are dead.”

“Both of them?” she asked with surprise, and then grimaced. She'd seen her own head wound. Surely it would have killed a mortal? Why would she think Ernie would have made out any better?

“Yes, both are dead,” he said quietly, then raised his eyebrows and said, “You broke Ernie's neck?”

“No, Bert's,” Mary corrected. “Couldn't you tell when you saw the bodies?”

“There was not much to see,” he said solemnly. “The van exploded on impact. If you had not flown out the windshield and into the post, you too would now be dead. Immortals are highly flammable.”

Her eyebrows lifted at this news, and then she bit her lip and asked, “And Tomasso?”

His shoulders drooped and he shook his head silently. “Lucian has people looking in Venezuela, but nothing yet.”

Mary sighed and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “I'm so sorry.”

“No, I am the one who is sorry. I promised to keep you safe and failed you. Twice. You have nothing to be sorry for,” he assured her quietly.

“Yes, I do,” Mary said unhappily. “I killed Bert, which led to Ernie dying too. And you needed one of them alive to find out where Tomasso is.” Raising her head, she added quickly, “I was only trying to make them stop. It was all a trap. They were leading you to a warehouse about a block away from the crash, or maybe a half a block by that time. There were two men waiting there.” Mary paused and then muttered with frustration, “They said their names, but I can't remember. I think one was Jack or something.”

“You took a lot of trauma to the head,” Dante said soothingly. “The nanos are probably still making repairs. Your memory may be shaky for a while until the repairs are finished.”

“Right.” She took a deep breath and then continued, “Anyway, they set it up for you to follow. Once at the warehouse, there were men waiting to shoot you and Russell and Francis with darts, and then we were all going to be shipped to wherever with Tomasso.”

“Tomasso was there at this warehouse?” he asked sharply.

“I'm not sure, but I think so,” she said unhappily. “I was going to tell you what I'd heard once I forced them to stop the van. I thought maybe we could drive in, in the van. They wouldn't have been expecting that. But then dumb Ernie ignored my warning and went for the dart gun. I tried to grab him and broke Bert's neck and we crashed.”

Sighing, she dropped her head to his shoulder again. “I'm sorry, Dante. I messed up. It's all my fault.”

“No,” he said firmly, wrapping his arms around her. “It is not. If you had not done what you did, we might all now be in the same position Tomasso is in. Instead, we are alive and safe and able to help look for him.”

Mary thought it was sweet of him to try to soothe her conscience, but she still felt guilty. Relaxing against him, she closed her eyes, then glanced up with surprise when Dante pulled back. But he merely scooped her up in his arms and carried her back out to the bedroom.

Bailey was still lying on the bed and Mary frowned with concern as she noticed the cast on her leg.

“She is fine,” Dante said softly. “She has had her pain killers and the cast barely slows her down. She is not even limping anymore.”

“Oh,” Mary murmured as he carried her around the bed and set her down next to Bailey.

Dante quickly covered her with the sheets and blankets she'd tossed aside just moments ago, and then straightened and turned to open the cabinet door of the table on his side of the bed. Curious, Mary watched as he bent to retrieve something, her eyes widening when he turned to set two bags of blood on the bed.

Catching her surprise, he smiled and said, “It is a hidden fridge. Mortimer,” he paused to explained, “He's the head of the rogue hunters. He had them custom-made. Now everyone wants them for their homes,” he added with amusement as he retrieved two more bags to set next to the others. He closed the door as he straightened, then scooped up the four bags and set them down right next to her before leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. “I have to go tell Lucian what you told me. He will want to send someone to search the warehouses in the area and see if there is any information that might be of use.” He straightened, and then asked, “Is there anything you want me to bring you when I return? Something to eat or drink?”

Mary hesitated, but then aware that he wanted to leave, just shook her head. “Maybe later.”

Nodding, he bent to kiss her again, then leaned past her to give Bailey an affectionate pet before straightening and crossing the room.

“Feed,” Dante said firmly as he opened the second door in the room to reveal a hall beyond. Glancing back he added, “I want all four bags empty when I come back.” Then he slipped from the room and pulled the door closed behind him.

Mary picked up one of the bags, but then just stared at it. She had no idea how to make her fangs come out. Before this, they'd just popped out whenever she was hungry. She hadn't had to—

The thought died as she felt a shifting in her mouth. Mary waited, and then ran her tongue cautiously along her teeth until it rubbed up against a fang. Well, that
was handy. But then she
was
hungry, although she hadn't realized it until she'd actually picked up the bag. Or, perhaps, it was better to say she hadn't been able to identify what she was hungry for until then. Although, Mary thought, she wouldn't mind food either, just then. However, she didn't have any, so she simply opened her mouth and popped the bag toward it, relieved when it landed correctly and remained in place.

Keeping her hand in place on the bag to support it, Mary glanced to Bailey then. The dog appeared to be asleep. She suspected it might have something to do with the pain pills Dante had mentioned. On the other hand, Bailey slept a lot. Most dogs seemed to. They'd run around like crazy chasing balls, animals and anything else that caught their attention, and then would drop and sleep for a while before getting up to do it again.

It was a tough life, Mary thought with amusement and glanced to the bag to judge how much more blood there was in it. It was going down pretty quick, and didn't bother her as much as it had at first. She didn't exactly like the feel of cold fluid moving up her teeth, and she wasn't pleased to have to actually consume blood, but at least she didn't have to actually drink it cold from a cup or something. That would have been disgusting. This way she didn't have to taste it or anything.

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