de Sang: Embrace Your Blood Lust (19 page)

"Please," she pleaded. "Can we go now?"

* * * *

She entered Slade's room alone.

Lying motionless on the bed, his face was turned away from the door. There was only one light on, and at first, she though he might be asleep. But as she got closer she realized he was staring unblinking at the wall. He didn't look well at all. In fact, he looked like shit — about like the detective. His skin had lost all color and actually had a gray sheen. Thankfully, the tremors that gripped him earlier had subsided, but there was still a subtle quiver to his skin.

He didn't turn to her until she sat on the bed and said, "Hey."

The red contacts he wore were out and his deep brown eyes were so troubled, it made her chest hurt. "Thank God," he murmured, grabbing her hand and kissing it. "I was worried about you."

"I'm fine," she said dismissively. "I'm more worried about you."

He snorted and smiled sadly. "Don't be."

Captivated by the depth of emotion swirling in his brown orbs, she couldn't believe only three days ago she'd dismissed him as nothing more than a bag of muscles and testosterone. Now she wanted nothing more than to pull him into her arms and kiss away whatever demons tormented him.

There was no time for that, though. Something had to be done about the fatigue lines crossing his face. Never one to be anything but blunt, Kate said, "You need blood. I'm here to give it to you."

"No."

"The doctor says you need it."

"I don't care."

She hadn't expected the response. "But you need it," she repeated through gritted teeth. She couldn't understand why he was being so stubborn.

Releasing her hand, he closed his eyes and looked away. "I don't care."

Pulling out the scalpel Armand had given her from the folds of her hospital gown, she didn't hesitate or stop to think about what she was about to do. Following the careful instructions he'd given her in the hallway, she made a quick slice on the fleshy part of her wrist. It barely stung and the blood immediately started running down her arm. "Here." She shoved the arm in front of Slade.

He stared at her bleeding wrist. "What are you doing?" There was a hint of panic in his voice.

She pushed her arm closer to him. "I'm offering you my blood. Take it."

His eyes glued to the bleeding wound, he lifted his hand like a shield and covered his face. When she kept the arm there, he shoved it away. "I'm not taking blood from you," he hissed.

"What? Why?" She was taken aback by his vehement rejection. "Why won't you take my blood?"

His eyes were angry when they met hers. "I don't want it."

Suddenly she understood. She'd been right about him all along. Their little love fest the other day was nothing more than a ruse. He didn't want her anymore than Tyler had. The only thing Slade wanted, he'd already gotten.

She rose, tossing the scalpel on the nightstand and cupping her hand under her wrist to catch the spilled blood. "I see," she said coolly.

"Kate, I..."

"Don't bother. I get it." She made her way to the door, paused to say something snarky, thought better of it and pushed through the door. Her name trailed behind her as the door swung shut.

Both Armand and Julia jerked their gazes up when Kate came barreling out of Slade's hospital room. She didn't dare slow down as she passed.

"He's your problem now," was all she could manage to say as she tore past them. Anything more and she'd turn into a blubbering wreck.

* * * *

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Armand was the last person Slade wanted to deal with. He kept his eyes focused on the wall. "A lot of things. Where would you like to start?"

"How about we start with Kate Miller. Care to explain why she blew out of here and does it have something to do with the circles still under your eyes?"

"If I refused Nikki and Julia, why the fuck would you think I wanted Kate's blood?"

"Because you're lovers. Julia and I assumed it was an intimacy thing."

"Well, you assumed wrong."

"I don't understand. You're going to have to educate me."

Slade smiled. It was such a short road to the emotional place he was now. It was a longer road out. "Did you see what Lohr did to her?" he wondered, turning to Armand. "Did you see how many places he cut her? Do you realize when I found her he was sitting on her dripping his blood into her mouth?"

"No. I did not," Armand said tightly. His expression went dark and Slade was pretty sure he was thinking of ways to kill Lohr. Slade had already dreamt up about a dozen.

"Yeah, well, he was." Slade shook his head. "I knew the sick fuck had taken an interest in Kate. I should have done something to prevent it. I should have kicked his ass a long time ago. I've always known he was batshit crazy."

"I don't think any of us realized his neurosis was this severe."

"That doesn't make it okay. Do you remember how you felt when Eve died? How guilty you felt because you didn't check her into the hospital? Well, imagine if Darus had hurt someone you loved and not just a random chick you barely knew." Thinking about what Lohr had done to Kate made his blood pressure and voice rise. "And you know what makes it fucking worse? I'm not that different from Lohr. When Kate came in here just now and slashed her wrist for me, the first thought that popped in my mind was how fucking delicious her blood looked. After all she's been through, that's what I think about?"

"You cannot help your nature."

"The fuck I can't. I refuse to be in the same class of human as Lohr Varius."

"So, that's it. You're going to deny something your body physically needs. Because of Lohr?"

"Not just because of him, but he sure tipped the iceberg." Slade paused. "My father died a week ago," he said, the words bitter as they fell from his mouth. "No one bothered to tell me. They'd rather me be sick than some blood drinking freak. I think I agree."

Armand's face softened, as did his tone. "I understand you're upset. But you can't kill yourself over this."

"I'm not going to die. And if I do..." He gave a little shrug.

The softness went away. "Damnit, Slade, you have an infection which should be responding to the antibiotics but isn't. And when the cure came to you, beautiful and eager to help, you pushed her away to what? Satisfy some poor me pity party?"

Slade felt his jaw clench. "You know Darus was right. You don't understand. How could you?"

Armand shook his head. "No, I don't suppose I could." He moved toward the door. As he pulled it open, he said over his shoulder, "We all have our demons, Slade. Angst never helps us overcome them."

What a pretentious prick
, was the first thing joining the door and slamming into Slade's mind. But then he realized he sounded like the assholes who helped put him in this dark spot and regretted the thought.

Fuck, he didn't know what to think any more. Knowing he shared the same driving desire as Lohr made him feel disgusting in his own skin. Knowing he craved Kate's blood like it was the last drop of water and he'd been walking in the Sahara for three days made him feel like a junkie.

More reason to deny it.

Wearily, Slade leaned back on the bed. He was exhausted to the bone. An eight-ball wouldn't wake him up at this point. His shoulder burned, and he could practically feel the infection spreading over his chest.

He wished his reunion with Kate hadn't unraveled so quickly. He ached to see her, to touch her silky skin, to verbally battle with her. Those days were long behind him and he knew it. There's no way she'd want to be with the man he was quickly becoming, and he no longer wanted to be the beast he'd been.

Chapter Eighteen

Slade was alone for less than ten minutes before a new asshole replaced the one he'd just run off. He groaned when he saw the latest starfish. Just what he didn't need: a cop.

"Mr. Corelli?" The pig held out his hand and Slade took it reluctantly. He knew
why
the cops were involved but he didn't have to be happy about it.

"Sure."

"I'm Detective McCoy. Can I ask you a few questions about what happened yesterday?"

"Can I say no?"

"It'd be better if you didn't."

"Then fire fucking away."

McCoy took a seat. The man looked about as shitty as Slade felt. He pulled out a notebook, scanned over a few pages, and then lifted his bright blue eyes to Slade. "I understand you helped get those girls out of the warehouse. Well done."

"Thanks," Slade replied dryly. It definitely didn't feel like a job well done but at least both Kate and Melanie were out, and Lohr was hopefully in jail.

"How did you know Miss Miller was at Lohr Varius' warehouse?" The detective was doing a piss poor job of keeping the suspicion out of his voice.

Slade hesitated. "An associate told me."

"Which associate?"

Even after everything that had gone down, even with the disgust he felt about his
condition
, he didn't feel comfortable sharing intimate Community info with this outsider. But if he wanted Lohr to go down, preferably on his hands and knees before a big prison Bubba…

"Have you arrested Lohr?" he asked instead.

"We have."

"Do you have enough evidence to charge him?"

"Yes."

Slade shrugged. "Then I don't know what you need from me."

The cop narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Corelli, a woman is dead, one is in the ICU, and another is recovering from being kidnapped and tortured." Slade winced when McCoy mentioned torture. Fuck, Kate really had been tortured hadn't she? Even if Slade had an inkling of desire to receive her offer of blood, he couldn't now. "If there's a chance someone had information that could have prevented any one of those scenarios," the pig was saying. "I want to know about it."

Slade knew he couldn't hide the loathing in his eyes. A huge part of him wanted to throw Darus under the bus. After all, if that asshole had come to Slade two days earlier, it was possible none of this shit would have gone down. But Slade had to face the truth; he knew Lohr had an interest in Kate, too, and he didn't do anything about it either.

"Ah, but this person did do something about it. He came to me."

"He should have gone to the police."

"And told them what exactly? 'Lohr, a man with no criminal record, has his eyes set on a girl. You should probably check it out.'"

"Are you sure your associate didn't know more?"

"How the fuck would I know?"

 
"I'm sure you know more than you're telling me," McCoy said disgusted. "You're a victim here too, Mr. Corelli."

"I'm hardly a victim," Slade spit the words out he was so angry.

"And there's evidence you aren't the first," McCoy continued, ignoring him. "Or Miss Miller, or Melanie Young, or Tina Spalling. If there's a chance your associate, or anyone else, knew more about what was happening at Lohr Varius' warehouse, I want to know about it. I'd think you would too."

"If I give you his name will you get the fuck off my back?"

"For now."

Slade sighed. Exhaustion was settling over his skin, making it difficult to blink. "Fine," he said. "Darus."

"Darus…" The detective flipped through his notes. His brow creased. "Do you know his real name?"

"Nope." The frown lines deepened. "You arrested him last year," Slade told him. "I'm sure you can figure out who he is."

"Ah…" The cop flipped to the first page. "Aaron Jones."

The detective might as well have said, King Arthur. "Sure."

"How did he know Miss Miller was with Lohr?"

"You're going to have to ask
Mr. Jones
that. Look, as much as I detest his scrawny, Mohawked ass right now, I'm not going to speak for him. I gave you his name, now I'd like you to leave."

McCoy studied him for a good minute before finally sliding his notebook into his blazer and rising from the chair. The hint of disdain that washed over his cleft-chin, actor face agitated Slade's exhausted nerves. "Expect to hear from me soon. I don't know what you're hiding or who you're protecting, Mr. Corelli, but I intend to get to the truth. You have my word on it."

When the detective left the room, Slade rubbed his hand over his face wearily. It looked like life was about to get interesting and not in a good way. He definitely knew it was no good for
Luxure
or the Community.

Fuck, what he wouldn't give to back in time seventy-two hours… But it was what it was, and that had always been his motto. No need to change it now.

* * * *

Armand looked like he was going to crawl out of his skin. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly the veins on his forearms were like ropes and his knuckles looked like they might pop through his skin.

She set a hand on his arm and he covered it with his, smiling feebly at her.

"Do you want to go somewhere?" she asked."The river?" In the last year, Julia had discovered that while Armand was calm and cool on the surface, he had a lot of pent up rage swimming under his skin. His control was excellent, and he never directed any anger at her or really, anyone else. Except maybe the occasional drunk who caused trouble in the bar…

In some ways, it might be healthier if he took it out on people. Snap at them once in a while, tell the delivery driver what a dumbass he was for backing into their front balcony support pillar… Instead, Armand worked diligently at being cordial and then kicked the daylights out of his punching bag later.

Where some people drank to release stress, Armand worked out, sometimes for hours. Julia seemed to be a natural tranquilizer for him, but he had a rule about avoiding her when he was extremely agitated. Slade was the perfect gym partner in crime. Armand got his aggression out, and both he and Slade got six-packs. It was a win-win for everyone.

Judging by the tension tightening every muscle and tendon in Armand's body, working out probably wasn't going to cut it tonight. Nor was the river.

"What I need..." he trailed off. His eyebrows bunched together and she saw a faint grimace cross his face. It was wiped clean when he turned to her. "Is you."

Julia wasn't sure what to make of the mixed expressions. But even if she wanted to inquire, she couldn't. They had pulled into the garage and Armand was reaching across the console, his searing kiss stealing her thoughts. Moments after, he was climbing into the back seat and pulling her with him. By the time her sundress was pulled over her head, the thoughts were already gone.

* * * *

Kate wasn't sure where to go but she had to get away from Slade, Julia and Armand.

Slipping past the nurse surfing the Internet, Kate snuck into Melanie's room. She was hooked up to an IV and a dozen wires attached to her body fed information into beeping and whirring machines.

Okay
was not the descriptor Kate would have used for Melanie's condition.
In a coma
was more appropriate.

Sitting in the chair next to the bed, Kate laid her head on the mattress next to Melanie's shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she said, reaching over and taking Melanie's hand. "I shouldn't have left you. I screwed this whole thing up. I screwed everything up."

Kate wasn't even sure what she wanted to fix. It was like every decision she'd made in the last week was wrong and she wasn't sure where to start. The only thing that had gone right was the night she'd spent with Slade, but now, even that was tainted.

She squeezed Melanie's hand. "When you get better we'll take a trip. My parents have a house at Possum Kingdom Lake. Don't let the name fool you; it's beautiful." Kate laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. "You won't even have to worry about money. They're good like that."

Suddenly, Kate felt ashamed of the years she'd spent hating her childhood. Knowing what Melanie had gone through as a child and comparing it to Kate's privileged upbringing, made lamenting being the
black sheep
seem ridiculous. Her family might not necessarily understand her but they always supported her. When she'd wanted violin lessons instead of ballet lessons, when she wanted to school shop at Hot Topic instead of Nordstrom's, when she wanted to go to art school, when she decided to move to New Orleans…everything she desired came with full support and even financial backing if she chose to accept it. And what did she do to repay the favor? She wore black to her sister's wedding and bitched nonstop about the spray tan to anyone who'd listen.

Was she doing the same thing to Slade she'd done to her family? Was she judging him unfairly again, assuming she
knew
his intentions without even letting him explain? She'd immediately jumped to the conclusion he didn't want her when he refused her blood. But if she looked past her own judgment and remembered how he reacted to her before she tried to force her blood down his throat, she would have to acknowledge she was denying him the same way she denied her family.

Closing her eyes, she squeezed Melanie's hand again. How did she fix this? How did she quit relishing in being the
outcast
and accept the love others offered?

Melanie's hand began to tremble, then spasm, and then jerk erratically. Kate jumped up. Melanie's entire body was violently twitching. Her stomach heaved and vomit erupted from her mouth.

Kate reacted as quickly as she could. After shoving Melanie onto her side so she wouldn't choke on the vomit, Kate slammed her hand against the nurse call button.

Bracing Melanie so she stayed on her side, Kate called toward the door, "Help! Someone please!"

It wasn't long before the lights clicked on and two nurses ran in. One went to Melanie and the other firmly, but gently, moved Kate back. "We've got it, Miss," she said. "Why don't you wait outside…"

Horrified, Kate backed toward the door. Another nurse breezed past her and then as she stepped into the hall, a doctor as well. Her eyes glued to the door, she kept moving backwards until her shoulders hit the wall, and then sank until the floor met her butt.

She couldn't move. She couldn't blink. She could barely breathe. All she could think about was Melanie seizing and the uncontrollable vomit dripping from her mouth.

When Kate was in college, she attended a party where a student died from alcohol poisoning. She'd been wasted when he collapsed and had even laughed. But ambulance lights had a way of sobering up a girl and Kate had been more judicious about her alcohol consumption ever since.

The look on the doctor's face when he emerged from the room fifteen minutes later told her everything she needed to know. She came to her feet in slow motion. With a small shake of his head he briefly clasped her shoulder before moving down the hall.

Through the square window looking into Melanie's room she saw one of the nurses disconnect Mel from the machines and remove her IV. It was all Kate could take.

Bolting down the hall, she ran until her legs burned and her chest heaved, ignoring the cries of nurses as she whizzed past them, and the tears streaming down her face.

There was only one place she wanted to be and she couldn't get there fast enough.

* * * *

Slade was half asleep when Kate burst into his room. The utter and complete anguish covering her face made him sit up in alarm. His shoulder screamed at him for the not giving it ample warning, but he ignored it. He'd barely opened his mouth to say her name when she fell into his arms.

Sobs wracked her body and every single one broke his heart. "Kate, baby, please. What's wrong?"

Clutching at him, she just shook her head and buried her face deeper into his chest.

He gripped her as tightly as he could. After pressing his lips onto her forehead, he settled his cheek against her head. "Please," he whispered. "You're killing me. Let me help."

Shuddering as she drew in a breath, she tried to speak and failed. After a few more attempts, she finally squeaked out the words, "She's dead."

He started to ask who, and then went cold when he realized it had to be Melanie. Ice replaced his blood, and his heart strained to squeeze the cubes through his veins. It added more fuel to the
Kill Lohr Varius
campaign.

"I don't know what happened. She was fine, sleeping and then she just started throwing up. I tried to...I thought...Oh my God, Slade. I can't believe she's dead."

His jaw clenched so tight, his teeth ground uncomfortably together. Renewed hatred for Lohr thawed the ice in his blood and sent it boiling. Slade realized Lohr was in jail, but somehow, he was going to find a way to bash Lohr's head in.

Pushing his loathing for Lohr to the side, he concentrated on the woman in his arms. "I'm so sorry, Kate. We'll find a way to make him pay."