Her Dark Heart (2 page)

She looked at Trevor for what seemed like an eternity, but was really only a second or two. Her gaze was intense and it seemed to pierce him right through, making him feel open and vulnerable. Over the years he'd treated hundreds of vampires, lycans and witches in the city of Nouveau Monde but he'd never been around an Otherworld creature as potent as Mistress Guinevere was.

Standing, she reached up to the zipper on her gown and slid it down her side, over her hip, and letting it pool at her feet, she stepped out of it. Underneath she wore a bra and tiny panties.

He knelt to inspect her wound. Because of the inadequate light, he had to press his face close to her side just underneath the band of her bra. The wound had closed up some, a testament to the healing powers of vampires, and to his healing ability, but it appeared swollen and off color. It was definitely silver infected.

“I have to open it again. It's infected.”

He glanced up at her. She nodded for him to go ahead.

Trevor opened his kit and took out his scalpel. It was standard issue for an EMT in Nouveau Monde for exactly situations like this. He poised the tip of the blade above the wound.

“This is going to hurt.”

“I have endured worse.”

As quick as he could, he sliced the wound open. She winced but didn't move as he dug into the hole with a pair of forceps looking for the piece of silver that had to be inside.

He grimaced as he worked, knowing he was inflicting pain on Guinevere.

After another few seconds of poking and prodding, he found the offending shard and extracted it from her flesh. It was the size of a grain of rice, but had the ability to kill her.

He tossed the piece to the ground then set about closing up her wound again. He gently placed the palm of his right hand over her wound. Closing his eyes, he concentrated and forced all his healing powers through his hand and into her.

As he worked, Guinevere sucked in a breath and reached out to grab his head. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and pulled as his power stitched up her flesh and skin.

“Oh good Lord,” she muttered under her breath.

When he was finished, Trevor pulled his hand back and stood. The skin on his palm tingled like pins and needles. It didn't normally feel like that.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Her eyes were closed and she was bracing her other hand against the side of the tunnel to keep her balance. Slowly she opened her eyes and pinned him with her fierce gaze. Her eyes looked black. “I've never felt anything like that before.”

“I'm sorry if I hurt you.”

She smiled. “That was not pain I was feeling.”

“Oh.” He could feel his face flush and he dropped his gaze.

“You have an incredible power, Trevor.”

“Should I help you with your dress after I bandage you?”

She shook her head. “No. It's too binding.”

“Aren't you cold?” He couldn't help his gaze from traveling over her svelte form. She was incredible to look at.

“I don't feel the temperature.”

Trevor bent down to return the scalpel and forceps and to retrieve the bandages and tape from his kit. As quick as he could, he covered up her side. Then he stripped off his jacket, handing it to her.

“Here, just in case you get cold.”

She looked at the offered jacket and back at him. “Thank you for the gesture.” She took it and put it on.

“Now what?” He looked toward the drain cover. “Out into the river?”

Guinevere followed his gaze and nodded. “That is the only exit.”

He reached for the cover and pushed it out. There was a telltale splash as it hit the water. He poked his head out to survey the situation.

But she grabbed him and pulled him back in. “Someone is out there.”

Surprised, he scanned the river shore. “I don't see anyone.”

“There're two men beside the small clump of trees.”

Trevor squinted out into the night, searching the shoreline. He saw nothing. No, wait—he did see a dark shape beside the trees. The shape moved.

“How many people know about this tunnel?”

“Five including myself.”

“Could be just kids making out.”

Guinevere smiled grimly. “Kids carrying rifles?”

“You can see that?”

She nodded. He guessed he shouldn't be that surprised. Vampires had far superior eyesight and hearing.

“What's the plan then?”

“We jump and try not to get shot.”

Guinevere kicked off her shoes. Trevor watched, enthralled by her movements in the moonlight. After she was done, he continued to stare at her long shapely legs, and the point of their juncture. Everything she did was fluid and graceful, like watching a cat slink across the room. She was mesmerizing.

Guinevere slapped him hard across the face.

Trevor shook his head, shocked from the force of the blow. His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “What was that for?”

“You're not focused. You're going to get hurt if you can't think straight.”

He rubbed his stinging cheek. She was right. He had to get his head together. Thinking about touching her skin again was not going to get them safely out of here.

“I'll go first. The men will likely start shooting, then you dive into the water and swim to the far shore.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “You can swim, I hope?”

“Yeah, I can swim.”

“Okay. We will meet back on shore.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. A tiny spark sizzled over his skin where she touched him. “Good luck.”

Without another word, she turned and jumped out of the tunnel. The sound of gunfire wasn't far behind her.

Trevor leaned out and watched her hit the water, hopefully unscathed. Taking a deep breath, he flung himself out of the drain, diving into the river.

The moment he hit the water, Trevor lost all the air in his lungs. The bitter icy grip of the water squeezed the warmth from him. Almost instantly his body started to shut down.

He opened his eyes but saw nothing. It was black as the night. He was disoriented and in shock. He had no idea which way Guinevere had swum. He could do nothing but go up, and hope like hell that a bullet didn't slam into his frozen head. He wouldn't heal like the vampiress. The bullet whether it was lead or silver would kill him.

He swam to the surface and broke water. No bullets. So far so good. He was not far from the shore. Trevor had to get out of the water. It was too cold. He would get hypothermia before long, then he'd just be a floating target.

There was no noticeable movement on shore. He swam and crawled out onto the grass. He lay on his back to catch his breath. Already he was shivering. Before long he wouldn't be able to move. He rolled over onto his side and gained his hands and knees.

That was when he heard the distinctive sound of a round going into a chamber.

“Don't move.”

“I'm a medical technician. I'm not a vampire. I was responding to a call at the Sinsational club and got trapped. I'm just trying to get back to the hospital.”

“Shut up!” The man brought his gun down on Trevor's back. He collapsed on the grass, a stinging pain vibrating up and down his spine.

“Hey, Chuck! I found…”

Trevor felt drops of something hit the side of his cheek. It ran down into his mouth. Blood. His stomach rolled over and bile rose to his throat as he looked up at his assailant.

Rivulets of blood were quickly running from the man's open mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head and he fell sideways. Behind him, Guinevere stood wet and wild-eyed, her hand covered in blood and gore.

She bent down and grabbed Trevor's arm. She yanked him roughly to his feet. “Can you run? We need to escape. I can sense Soren is near, searching the water for me.”

He nodded, not able to find his voice.

“I could carry you.”

“No,” he stuttered. “I can manage.” Trevor didn't have an ego, but he did possess some male pride. And being carried by a woman, a vampiress yet, to safety wasn't his idea of dignified.

She grabbed his hand and they ran from the river and into the trees.

They managed to stumble downtown, hiding in the alleys and cautious with every movement they made. Guinevere had expected Trevor to go his own way but he'd promised to get her someplace safe first. His instincts were to heal. She liked that about him. She didn't normally have that type of man in her life. Most were born dominators, killers to be blunt. It was just ingrained in a vampire's genetics to hunt and seek blood. Lycans too for that matter.

Witches on the other hand were all about seeking solace. She needed that in her life. She'd gone too long in a state of paranoia and defense. Constantly watching her back. It was getting tedious and bothersome.

As they ducked down another back alley, she noticed a sign for a cheap ratty hotel called Blue Moon. It was probably run by lycans but she couldn't be choosy right now. She just needed to get indoors to rest and regroup. She also needed to feed. Besides, it would be dawn soon. Although she could face the sun—most vampires could nowadays—she preferred to be under roof when the sun broke the dark sky. Being hungry and hot wasn't a good combination.

“Do you have any money?” she asked him.

He nodded. “I always keep about fifty Euros in my kit for emergencies.”

“A room should cost about that. I'll pay you back.”

He looked at her with a frown. “Don't worry about it. Let's just get you inside and safe.”

The lycan manning the front desk barely batted an eye at her and Trevor as they came in and paid for a room. She supposed he'd seen much worse than a witch in an EMT uniform and a vampiress in nothing but a bra and panties. It brought a whole new meaning to sexual role playing.

The room was what she expected for forty Euros. It was at least clean. She didn't smell any horribly offending odors when they entered, just the usual bleach and faint body sweat.

Trevor helped her to the bed although he was the one shivering from the cold. His clothes were soaked.

“You should get dry or you'll get sick,” she suggested as she lay down on her back on the bed. She needed rest. Her body was barely hanging on.

He nodded. “Let's get you settled, then I will figure something out.” He went over to her to inspect her bandages. “You should let me call someone. My friends in law enforcement can help you. Protect you.”

She shook her head. “Vampire politics and law enforcement do not mix well. Besides, I don't trust easily. My enemies could have moles inside the department.”

“You're trusting me.” He met her gaze and held it as he unwrapped her bandage to inspect her wound.

He had amazing hazel eyes with flecks of green. Warm and inviting. She knew the second she met him that she could trust him. That was why she'd beckoned him into her private room to help her with her injuries. He had a protector aura about him. Which was probably why he'd chosen his particular profession.

“You have a trustworthy look about you.”

He smiled, as he pressed his fingers to her skin around her bullet wound. The heat of his fingertips sent a wave of pleasure through her. She suspected it was more than just his healing powers that she was reacting to.

Trevor was an attractive man, with unkempt light brown hair and crinkles at his eyes when he smiled. It made a woman want to run her hands through his hair and kiss those laugh lines.

“The wound looks good. It's healing well.” He reached for new bandages in his kit, which he'd kept through the ordeal in the river by strapping it onto his back.

She sat up so he could tape her up again. As he wrapped the gauze around her torso, Guinevere inhaled his scent. It was a mixture of wet male and nature. It was a clean smell like spring rain. It was a good smell. One that made her feel comfortable and secure.

He must've sensed that she was testing him because after affixing the tape securely he pulled back and distanced himself across the room. “It should be all healed in a couple of days. You might have a scar though.”

“It's of no consequence. I have others.” She stretched out her arms, fully aware that the movement enhanced her bustline. “I wanted to thank you for saving my life. And for getting me here to safety. You didn't have to.”

He avoided looking at her, but she could tell he was intrigued by her. Interested maybe. “Anyone would have done the same thing.”

She shook her head. “I suspect that you are just not anyone.”

He fussed with his medical kit. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”

She wondered what he would do if she told him straight out what she wanted from him. Would he run if he knew how much she desired him right now?

He looked over at her, his eyes darkening. Did he sense what she needed?

“I need to feed, Trevor.” Her hands were shaking. She pressed them against the bed, hoping he did not see how much she craved him.

“I saw a vending machine in the lobby, I can get you a couple of bottles of blood. What do you prefer?”

“That will not be enough. I need fresh warm blood or I will not heal properly.”

She saw him swallow. Would he make his escape now knowing what she asked of him?

“Do you have a regular donor you could call? I could go down to the street and see if I could find you a willing one.”

She shook her head. “There is no one. No one I can trust.”

His hands paused on his medical bag. She could see his indecision in them. “I'm not sure—”

Guinevere rose from the bed and crossed the room. She stopped a foot in front of him, not wanting to scare him away. She needed him to breach the small distance between them. She needed him to agree to what she asked. She'd never taken anyone against their will before, and she wasn't about to start now.

Even when she'd first risen as a vampire, some eight hundred years ago, she'd been careful who she took blood from. She'd never forcibly bitten someone. It had always been consensual. At first she'd had to seduce her donors but now in these enlightened times, she'd only have to ask. Most people understood the pleasure of a vampire's bite. And most of them craved it just as much as she, like a drug.

“Have you shared blood with a vampire before?”

He shook his head.

“I won't hurt you.”

“I know.”

Narrowing her eyes, she studied him. “Do you not find me attractive?”

“I do, yes.”

“But?”

He sighed. “I don't want to take advantage of you. You're hurt and—”

“You are afraid of taking advantage of me?” She laughed.

Her laughter made him frown. “I don't take my healing oaths lightly, Guinevere, and neither should you.”

She sobered and really looked at him. She'd never met a stronger man before. A more valiant man. It was a trait she didn't often see in people, especially those who surrounded her, those who ran in her political circles.

This just made her want him that much more.

“I did not mean to offend you. That wasn't my intention.”

He nodded that he accepted her apology. “Look, I'm sure I can find you someone to feed from.” He turned toward the door. “It won't take long.”

She grabbed his arm. “I don't want someone else, I want you.”

“It's the situation talking. We were in a dangerous, life- threatening situation together. We've bonded because of it.”

She knew he was trying to work out the particulars in his mind, trying to find reasons why they shouldn't succumb to the desire she could feel simmering in the air. It was a human thing.

“Does it matter, Trevor? I want you, and I know you want me. I can see it in the way you look at me and the way your heart speeds up when you touch me.”

He didn't say anything right away and Guinevere took that as a sign that he was considering her words carefully. There was no denying his desire for her. She could see it in his eyes and read it in the way he responded to her.

She didn't normally, but she closed the distance between them and wrapped a hand around his neck to bring his mouth to hers. He didn't resist her. Then finally, they were kissing, and it was hard and hot and wet and everything she was hoping it would be.

He wrapped his arms around her, and bending her back, he deepened the kiss. He was urgent, all tongue and teeth. He nipped and tugged at her lips and seemingly drank her in. It was as if he too was starving, and the only thing to sate him was her.