Between a Vamp and a Hard Place (31 page)

“Of course,” Gemma said. She spoon-fed me a bit more, then frowned down at the cup when it was empty. “Lemme go get you some more. Stay here.”

I gave her a wobbly smile. Like I was going anywhere? I couldn't even freaking lift my head without being exhausted. “I'll be here.”

She got up and sashayed behind the curtain. As she did, I got a glimpse of the ties in the back of her hospital gown. Her back was exposed, the wrappings there visible. I smiled at the sight of it. Only Gemma would wander around like that. Rand would freak if he saw her—

Rand.

Oh, God.

The missing part of the puzzle clicked into place.

My mind played back the last few scenes I remembered, over and over again.

Rand's sword swinging through the air.

Vlad's head doing a somersault before crashing to the ground.

Blackness.

Rand had killed the Dragon.

In doing so, he'd killed himself. He was now nothing more than ash and a memory.
Only the Dragon can give you death's release.

A harsh sob caught in my throat, and agony rocked through me.

Rand was utterly gone.

I closed my eyes, mourning. He hadn't staked the Dragon. He'd wanted to make the world a safer place for everyone. For the Frederics and the Guys of the world. Heck, even me. He couldn't allow the vampire to live a moment longer if it put someone else in danger.

I thought of the hurt in his eyes as he'd knelt before the Dragon, utterly defeated, broken arm cradled against his chest. Another sob tore through me, and then I was weeping openly, like a child. Did he realize I'd tried to do everything for him? Because I loved him so much that the thought of losing him was driving me mad with grief? Or had he gone to his end thinking that I'd betrayed him as surely as Guy had? That made me sob even harder.

I buried my face in my hands and wept.

All my hopes and dreams, my love for him, utterly crushed. He'd only been in my life for such a short, brief time, but he'd changed it. He'd made me realize I didn't have to be afraid to love. That I could jump right into life with both arms outstretched and experience something so wonderful it left me breathless. That another person could be so protective but generous. So loving. So utterly perfect.

So very gone.

I cried and cried until I was exhausted. The sobs died away to weeping, and I hiccupped for what felt like hours, staring at the wall. Gemma hadn't come back, and it was just as well. I didn't want her to see me totally break down.

Over and over again, I mentally replayed how the scene must have gone. Rand standing over the Dragon's dead body. Chopping off the head. The minute ticking past.

Then . . . dust.

Nothing but dust.

The visual of Rand as a cloud of dust made me weep even harder. I blamed myself for everything. If only I hadn't decided to try to outsmart Vlad. If only I'd gotten him to drink from me sooner.

If only I'd left Rand in the coffin for another six hundred years. After all, if he was in limbo, staked, at least there was a chance at a second life. Now there was no shot at all.

Sobbing bitterly once more, I curled up in the bed, utterly broken and depressed. The thought of going on without Rand hurt like a knife wound in the gut. Even now, as I looked around the room, everything made me think of him. The box of Kleenex, because I pictured his derisive laugh at such an object. The beeping machines, because he'd be filled with wonder at the sight of them. The chair at the side of my bed, because it was empty and he should've been in it. The sunlight that spilled through the blinds of my room's lone window.

He'd been such a mixture of boyish innocence and ruthless arrogance. To think I'd chided him for calling me wench. Now I'd give anything to hear him say that again.

For a moment, I even wanted Vlad back. Just so I could have a few more minutes with Rand.

I pictured his handsome face and doubled over, grief hitting me anew. My poor, poor vampire.

Some time later, Gemma wandered back in with a new paper cup, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. “Sorry, Linds. Some nurse saw me wandering the halls and insisted I put some clothes on and . . . what's wrong?” She dropped into the chair next to my bed. Her hand went to my forehead. “Are you okay?”

I sniffed, then felt my face crumple as I began to cry again. “Rand,” I blubbered. I couldn't speak around the knot in my throat. No other words would come out. It felt too raw, too fresh.

“Oh, honey, you're making yourself sick. Your eyes are all swollen and you sound all snotty.” She patted my arm. “Listen, about Rand . . .”

I sobbed harder.

“You know what? Actually, I'll be right back.” Gemma left the paper cup beside the bed and disappeared from the room.

A nurse came in a moment later, cheerily saying something to me in Romanian. I just continued crying, and she got a concerned look on her face, switched my IV drip, and noted something on my chart. She leaned down. “You pain? Yes?”

Heart pain, yes. Physical pain didn't matter. But maybe if I said yes, she'd give me some good drugs and I could forget what had happened for a few more hours. “Yes,” I said, weeping.

She gave me two pills and a cup of water, and stood there while I took them. Then she patted my leg and gestured at the Call button if I should need anything else. I lay back against my pillows and stared at the ceiling, waiting to go under.

“Heeeeere we go,” Gemma called cheerfully. “One primo hot seat coming right up.”

I looked over, wiping my eyes. My friend had rolled one of the hospital wheelchairs into my room.

As I watched, she patted the back of it. “Come sit.”

I shook my head and pulled the blankets over my head. “I don't want to.” I didn't want to do anything. Anything except mourn Rand, maybe.

“Don't be like that. Just come on. Please? I think you'll like what I'm going to show you.” When I started to cry again, she shook her head and grabbed my IV. “I'm going to force you to come with me. Now, come on.”

Even though I protested, Gemma made me walk the three steps to the wheelchair, and from there, she swaddled me in my blanket, pushed me from the room, then began to wheel me down the hall. I clung to my IV, feeling woozy from the drugs the nurse had given me. “Is this going to take long?” I asked Gemma, struggling to keep my eyes open.

“You're going to want to see this,” she repeated. “Just down the next hall.”

I doubted it, but I was too tired to fight, so I leaned heavily on one side of the chair and waited as she wheeled me in front of a glass window and then parked me. My thoughts were far away, my mind on Rand. Was he in heaven? Where did vampires go after they died? Where—

I was so focused on Rand that when I saw his face through the glass, it didn't register at first. There was a man sleeping in a bed, hooked up to several IV units and monitors. His face was turned away from the glass, so he hadn't noticed me, but the shaggy brown hair was familiar. Two doctors stood nearby, arguing.

It was Rand.

My Rand.

He was
alive
.

“Oh my God,” I burst out as I realized it really was him. “Rand!”

I stood up . . . and immediately collapsed on the floor, my legs going out from under me. My IV crashed on top of me a moment later with a massive clatter.

“Lindsey,” a familiar voice bellowed from the other side of the glass, and Rand bolted up from the bed. I sat up with Gemma's help and watched as he ripped IVs from his arms and bellowed my name, paper gown flapping as he flung himself toward me. He slapped a hand against the glass. “Lindsey!”

The doctors scurried into action, going after Rand.

He squatted near the floor, his worried face searching mine.

“Rand?” I whispered, my fingers brushing the hospital glass as if I could touch him. I couldn't believe it. “You're alive. How . . .”

He flashed a brilliant smile at me, relief on his handsome face.

I laughed and sobbed all at once.

The doctors hauled him backward, ignoring the way he fought, and put him back in his bed. It took four orderlies to hold him down, and the more they tried to hold him back, the more he fought.

“Oh,” I said, trying to get to my feet. “Oh, they're going to hurt him—”

“Calm him down,” Gemma said. “Tell him to calm down. He won't listen to anyone.”

“Rand,” I said through the glass, and noticed that he stilled. I made a “calm down” motion and he nodded, easing. The doctors began to replace his IVs, muttering to each other. He gave me another alarmed look, but I only gave him a smile and blew him a kiss. “How . . .” I murmured. “How is this possible?”

“Fuck if I know,” Gemma said. “Remember the translation?”

“You said it was death's release!” I cried, clenching my hands together under my chin, unable to stop staring at Rand's wonderful, gorgeous,
human
face.

“So the translation was wrong! It also mentioned a burrito! That should have clued us in!”

I sagged against Gemma, feeling a hundred pounds lighter. Not death, then. Just a release from being a vampire.

Gemma rubbed my arm. “You know we kept thinking that whatever was holding the vampire pyramid scheme would collapse if the big guy went away? I don't think it was a release of death, but just a regular ol' release from the curse.”

“That's amazing,” I breathed. It hadn't occurred to me. I'd thought for sure it was instant death for Rand if we killed the Dragon.

“The police found all three of us in the graveyard sometime after sunrise. Rand had a broken arm, a fever, and was babbling in a language no one could understand. You were bleeding out, so that was everyone's first concern. Now that we're back at the hospital, they think Rand has ‘amnesia' or a ‘stroke.' ” She made finger quotes around the words. “I tried telling them he was a time traveler, but they thought I was just being a shit and sent me away. He kept asking for you, which is why I brought you here.” She gave a happy sigh and clasped her hands. “Twu wuv.”

“He has a fever?” I asked, scarcely able to believe it. I couldn't take my eyes off him in the hospital bed. Even there, he radiated strength. He looked as if he'd been a lord deigning to give his subjects a few moments of his time instead of a man bound to a hospital room. As my worried gaze skimmed over him, I noticed the beige cast on his one arm for the first time.

“Yeah, they were saying some other stuff, but I don't speak Romanian, so I don't know what it is. He seems to be fine, though, other than the fact that he doesn't speak a word of any language anyone recognizes, and the only word he knows is your name. He keeps screaming for you.”

I pressed my fingertips to my mouth, smiling. “That's not such a terrible thing.”

“I thought it was kind of cute, myself.”

Rand saw my smile, and from the other side of the glass, he raised a hand in greeting, a hint of a smile touching his mouth.

“When can I see him?” I asked, stifling a yawn. Oh, no. My meds were kicking in. Stupid, stupid. “Can I see him now?”

“Let me go ask,” Gemma said. “Wait here.”

Like I was going to wheel myself somewhere else? I nodded, my gaze on Rand's wonderful, gorgeous face as I waited. New tears—this time, tears of joy—flowed down my face. How was this possible?

I didn't know. All I knew was that I was so utterly thankful, so happy. “
I love you,
” I mouthed to him.

But by the time Gemma returned with a doctor, I was passed out from my medication, sound asleep.

I
woke up several hours later from my drug-induced sleep. My room was empty, the faint moonlight wafting in through the blinds showing that it was dark outside.

Rand.

I panicked, looking around. I was back in my hospital room. Where was my vampire? I needed him. I never wanted to leave him again.

There was a note left on my bedside, and I calmed a bit at the sight of it.

You're totally konked at the moment, Linds, so I'm back at the hotel. They said you can check out in the morning once they're sure your vitals are ok. I took over your hotel room and am watching your stuff. Call me if you want, otherwise will be there in the AM. XOXO your BFF.

PS Rand's room number is 403.

And that was why my best friend was awesome. I quietly unhooked my IV, glanced around to see if any nurses came running, and slipped my legs over the side of the bed.

Now to find room 403.

I tied the laces of my hospital gown shut, but it still gaped open in the back. One hand clutching it shut, I padded down the hall, looking for room numbers. I couldn't remember the way Gemma had taken me earlier, so it took me a few moments to find his room.

The blinds in Rand's room were drawn, and I couldn't see through the glass walls to tell if the lights were on or if anyone was home. For a horrible moment, I thought they'd discharged him. I pushed the door open, peeking in.

A familiar shaggy head rested on the pillow.

His eyes opened, and he immediately sat up at the sight of me. “Lindsey!”

I motioned for him to be quiet, then I shut the door behind me and tiptoed to his bed. I could hold back no longer and flung myself into his arms. “Rand,” I whispered, over and over again. “Oh, Rand. You're alive!”

His hand stroked my hair, and he said something in a language I didn't recognize.

I pressed happy kisses to his face, his cheeks, his hair, and he kissed me back, just as frantic. His hand cupped my chin and he kept talking in that weird, fluid language I didn't understand.

He didn't know English anymore. His connection to the Dragon was gone. I laughed, utterly giddy, and showered him with new kisses. “You can't understand a thing I'm saying, can you?”