Immortal Distraction (15 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Finn

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Paranormal, #Vampires

BOOK: Immortal Distraction
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“Oh God!” she yelped as she tried to retreat further. But she was already back against the side of her steps, and there was no escape from him.

“Brit.” His voice was raw and ragged. “Brit, stop. It’s just me.” He stood slowly with his hands out in front of him. She watched as his teeth retracted and returned to normal, and his face relaxed as he took a step forward. Her panic was fading. When a quiet moan escaped his lips, she looked down and caught the handle of the spade that Driscoll had taken from her sticking out of the side of Angus’ abdomen.

She staggered to her feet and ran to him as he pulled the handle from his stomach and groaned loudly at the pain. It had been imbedded fully, and when he dropped it to the ground, she was almost shocked that he was still standing upright. But then, she remembered who he was, and what he was. But he was in pain. His hand clasped his side where he’d pulled the blade of the spade from his gut, and she reached to his body, searching his eyes.

“We need to leave, Brit.”

“We have to get you to a doc…” She was trying to sound commanding as always, but she was failing in his presence as always too.

He chuckled, but it was pained. “Driscoll knows who you are, and he knows where you live. It’s not safe here, and I assure you … I’ll be fine. It takes more than a gardening tool to kill a vampire.” And then he held her gaze steadily, waiting for her response.

She exhaled a deep breath and nodded slightly. “Vampire…”

“Yeah … but I’m a good one.” He gave a subtle smirk, and she could still see the pain he was feeling in the way he held his body. Vampire or not, he was hurt.

“Please let me help you.”

“If you want to help me, you’ll come with me, so I can get you out of here.” She nodded and put her arm around his waist. He didn’t really need her help she was certain, but it made her feel less a heel, and the tight hold he had on her shoulder was reassuring. She was trembling against his body as they walked.

His Range Rover was parked behind her pathetic, police-issued Crown Vic, and he still helped her into the front seat before rounding the car to the driver’s side. He drove fast, never taking his hand from hers, and when they arrived at his building, he pulled up in front, and the same valet she’d rudely dismissed on her first night at this building approached.

When he stepped from the car, he rounded to her side and helped her before the valet pulled from the curb. They entered together, and he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Can you come to my residence?”

And when they were in the elevator, he faced her and took her face in his two hands. He was studying the blood on the side of her lip. Every time she moved her mouth, it tore open again and started seeping blood, and after his tongue passed over his bottom lip, he leaned to her mouth and kissed the corner gently as she gasped. Then his tongued caressed the tear and licked away the blood as she stood frozen in place. When he pulled back, his nostrils were flaring, and she could see the tips of his teeth just past his lips. “Delicious.” She shuddered at his words, but remained silent.

“Did he bite you anywhere?” He was now studying her seriously. She shook her head. “Are you sure?” She nodded but still stayed quiet. She had no idea what to say. It wasn’t everyday you were forced to acknowledge a truth such as this. She’d been denying it, pushing the possibility out of her mind for days now, but seeing it in the flesh in front of her, she couldn’t deny it any longer.

He was a vampire.

*

She hadn’t stopped trembling. Hell, he hadn’t stopped replaying the events of the night himself. It was only mere coincidence that brought him to her place when he showed up. And had he not arrived when he did, she would be dead. It left his guts clenching, his hands fisting at his side, and his heart lurching and racing in near panic.

Langford had called him, livid about the arrest warrant, and Angus had used it as an excuse to see her. It had been three days, and he’d been testing himself. He wanted to see just how difficult it was to stay away from her. It had been bloody hell, and the moment he hung up with Langford, he was out the door, speeding most of the way.

Seeing Driscoll on top of her, he thought he might die. Driscoll proved to be a far better fighter than he’d expected, but when he’d sunk his teeth into the man’s throat, prepared to tear his carotid from his neck, he’d been stabbed with the fucking gardening spade. He inadvertently loosened his jaw at the pain, and the coward scampered off like a dog. And now here they were; Brit was known to a vampire who would have no problem killing her to protect his own ass and would without doubt try again, and he was panicking about this fact, knowing full well what that meant. He cared… He more than cared. Oh yeah, and she knew he was a vampire, so he had that going for him as well. Life was grand at the moment.

But she was safe.

She was sitting on his couch, staring at the coffee table in front of her. She looked like she was in shock, and as much as he wanted to hear her say something, he wasn’t at all sure what she was thinking. When Bremmer entered, she finally glanced at him before looking at Bremmer.

“You must be Brit. I’m Quentin Bremmer. It’s good to meet you. I’m a doctor, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“I’m fine, but Angus was stabbed. You need to look at him.” Bremmer’s focus turned to Angus, but the slight shake of Angus’ head had Bremmer’s attention back on her.

“Let’s worry about you first. Angus will be fine.” He sat in front of her on the coffee table as Brit’s expression remained distant and confused. “Were you bitten anywhere?” She shook her head. “You’re in pain. I can smell it in your chemistry. Where are you hurt?” She looked at him stunned before glancing to Angus who was standing by studying her. He couldn’t stop looking at her. She looked like she was two seconds from coming unglued, and it chilled him to see.

“How…?”

“Brit, answer the man’s question.” She glared at him for a moment before letting it go and returning her attention to the patient doctor sitting in front of her.

“My shoulder, but it’s fine. I dislocated it years ago, and it pops out easily, but it’s back in place. Barely sore at all now.”

“And you’re sure you weren’t bitten?”

“Yes. Why? Would I be a dog now too?” The tone of the word
dog
was unmistakable. Her attention snapped back to Angus, and her expression was loaded with disdain. He kept his attention trained on her with a steady and controlled expression. He wasn’t going to give her the reaction she was looking for. She was nervous, she was shocked, and her hell-bent-to-be-a-bitch attitude wanted to fight it out. It was how she maintained a sense of control in life when there was no control to be found.

But Bremmer was one of the more patient men Angus had met in the world, and he smiled calmly at her, ignoring the insult behind the word. “Dog, huh?” He chuckled. “Do you mind if I look at your shoulder? I’ll need you to take your arm out of your shirt.”

She nodded as she pulled the sleeve off her arm and exposed half her torso to him. She wore a simple cotton bra that barely contained her perfectly round breasts, and Angus’ cock suddenly fought against the fly of his pants to break free. Bremmer on the other hand simply focused on her shoulder with all the professionalism in the world. Of course, he’d not had the pleasure of making love to her to complicate things. And of course, he was simply more mature and controlled in such matters than Angus ever had been.

He prodded and manipulated her shoulder, and she winced once or twice but only on the most strenuous of manipulations. When he was finished, she dressed quickly. “It should be fine. It definitely feels loose, but I’m guessing it always does to some extent. Be careful and avoid using it more than necessary if possible. If the pain persists longer than a week, see your regular doctor.”

“And tell them what? That a man-sized dog threw me over the hood of my car?” She was still fighting.

“If you’d like, though I wouldn’t recommend it, unless of course you want a mandatory referral to a psychiatrist.” He smirked subtly at her, but it was still warm and caring. “And it’s vampire, Brit, but I think you know that.” And then he stood and walked toward Angus, leaving her starring after him.

“Now, where were you hurt?”

Angus lifted his shirt and Bremmer studied the wound. Angus could feel the skin knitting together and starting to heal, but he could also tell it wasn’t fully healed. Brit was craning her neck to see and nearly fell off the couch as she leaned to see around Bremmer’s frame. Her eyes bugged out of her head as she caught sight of the healing wound. She stood and approached him as he watched her.

“That’s impossible,” she muttered as she stood next to Bremmer with her mouth hanging open.

“Much like dog men, right, Brit?” He challenged her, but she didn’t look away from his stomach, and Bremmer smirked.

“You need to hunt. You’d be healing faster if you weren’t hungry.”

“I’ve been busy.”

Bremmer glanced to Brit but returned his attention to Angus quickly as he dropped his shirt back into place. “Regardless, see to it.”

“Truman and I will be going soon.”

Brit was watching their interaction with interest. The shock was still firmly planted on her face, but she was studying them. Bremmer was one of the few vampires who could hold his own with Angus. Not that Angus was a tyrant by any stretch, but he and Bremmer had always been equals, and there was no hierarchy between them. The same could be said of his friendship with Truman, though in his case it was simply Angus’ respect for the man that put them on the level. Truman was a couple hundred years younger than he, and while the leader of his clan, he’d been a solitary rogue for long enough to damage his place in any hierarchy. But throwing himself on the mercy of the council, and then destroying their previous tyrannical leader to protect the woman he loved had earned him a place on the ladder once more in Angus’ opinion.

Vampire clans were old fashioned in many respects. Females were seldom seen as part of any hierarchical family structure, least of all councils, and age had far more to do with status than anything else. Angus was head of not only his family, but of the council that oversaw the eastern region of the US. There were only five family lines left in their region. Each had a family home in Boston with ten to fifteen members and smaller clans spread out in the region. Clint oversaw Angus’ familial leadership role while Angus was preoccupied with council matters, and while Clint was too young to be in the role at little more than 250 years old, he was still the eldest of the vampires Angus had sired before it was outlawed.

The fact Brit was sitting in a room with two of the highest-ranking vampires in their region and knew exactly what they were was odd to say the least. When Truman and Ember walked in, it became even odder, and she appeared to struggle with her shock just a bit more.

“Hi, Brit. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Ember.” Ember approached her carefully as though she might break, and Angus cringed, knowing Brit would lash out before she broke. But she surprised him.

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you too.” She was polite, civil; she even managed a small smile.

“This is my husband, Truman.” Truman offered her his hand to shake, and she did so. “Are you okay? We heard you were attacked, and just wanted to make sure you were all right.” Brit nodded, but said nothing. “Well, I brought you some clothes to change into if you need.” And it was the first time he realized she was shivering, her hair was wet with melted snow and the backside of her clothing was as wet as her hair. He’d been so preoccupied he’d managed to miss it.

“Thank you.” Brit took the clothing but said nothing else. Ember gave her one more gentle smile before pecking Angus on the cheek and turning to leave.

“We’ll talk about this later?” It was Truman who asked him the question, and Angus’ slight nod confirmed they had plenty to talk about indeed—Brit’s safety and how they were going to see to it for starters.

Chapter 14

Bremmer left with Truman and Ember, and he was suddenly alone with her. She watched him wearily. He could see the distrust swimming in her eyes, but she was also curious. How could she not be? It’s not every day you get attacked and then saved by a dog man—a laughable moniker to be sure. Such things tended to rattle people. Even people like Brit who already had her suspicions that there was something very unnatural about the man she was fucking. She’d been able to overlook it, ignore it, push it away when she needed to up to this point. But it was hard to ignore it when it was staring you, fang-toothed, in the face.

When she approached him, she met his gaze before reaching for the bottom of his shirt. She slowly lifted the tattered fabric that was saturated in his blood. She pushed it up high enough to see the healing wound left by the spade, and when she did, her head slowly shook from side to side. “How is this possible?” She was whispering.

“I heal quickly.” His voice was just as quiet. “Come with me.” He took her hand pulling her toward his bedroom, grabbing the clothes Ember had left for her. When he started the shower in his master bathroom, she watched him. When he started peeling off his dirty and wet clothes, she froze in place.

“I can shower myself.”

“Of course you can.” But he kept taking his clothes off, and when he was naked in front of her, he reached for her body to do the same. She pulled away from his reach, but he stepped toward her as she retreated until her back was to the wall, and he proceeded to reach for the bottom of her shirt again. She stilled his hand with her own, but he pulled it away and lifted. She was trembling, and the goose bumps covering her creamy skin showed of her cold and her nerves. He wanted to soothe her; he wanted her to soothe him, but she was struggling.

“I’m just a man. You know that.” He was whispering in her ear as he pulled her arm from her shirt.

“You are not.” Her voice was trembling, but she wasn’t fighting him as he pulled her other arm from her shirt and then lifted it over her head. She looked so completely vulnerable standing shivering in front of him with her soft skin bristling in goose bumps. He unhooked her bra and slipped it from her arms, before sinking to his knees and lowering her pants and underwear down her legs. He slipped the shoes and socks from her feet and pulled her clothing from her legs as she balanced with a hand to his shoulder.

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