Kathi S Barton - [Aaron's Kiss 04] (3 page)

“Miss? Miss, are you all right? You have been laying there for the past twenty minutes and I am beginning to get very concerned after your welfare. Would you like some help? I’m quite capable of rendering you aid if you so desire.”

“Clothes! I want my friggin’ clothes.” She shouted at him, her pain making her short tempered. As an afterthought she said, “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault that I’m a bitch when I’m in pain. Well, I’m always a bitch, but that’s still no reason to shout at you. Could you please give me my clothes and my gear?”

“Yes, I’ll retrieve them post haste. Just let me help…no, I can see that you would rather do it yourself. Yes, well if you insist, I will go downstairs—to the laundry room.”

~~~

Duncan had been startled by her glare. He didn’t frighten easily, especially in this household, but the young miss frankly scared him a little. Her ladyship was going to be very upset at the turn of events. He almost hoped that she wouldn’t be in the kitchen when he went in to get the young woman’s clothes.

Duncan had heard the little alarm that sounded in the kitchen when Sam crossed the threshold into the bath. He had been surprised by the sound, not because he had forgotten about it, but Doctor Mercer had assured him it would be several days, maybe even a week before the wounded woman would be concisions, much less up and about, yet here she was. It had only been a mere six hours since she had been brought in by the policeman and her ladyship, and now the wounded girl was moving around. He was worried about her pallor and the fresh blood seeping from the wound.

Doc Mercer was a human doctor, that was to say he was human and a doctor for humans. Duncan himself had called to see to the young woman and her wounds. The doctor had wanted to take her to the hospital, but her ladyship wouldn’t budge on this.

Doctor Mercer had asked that Sam be put into a slight comalike state to help her heal and to keep her from doing what she was doing right now, leaving the estate. Lady Sara had agreed and had simply touched the woman and rendered her into a deep sleep.
No,
the lady of the house was not going to be happy
, Duncan thought.

Sara was sitting in the kitchen enjoying her cup of tea. When Duncan saw her, he nearly turned around and left the room again, but she looked up just then and saw him.

“Duncan, Penny said that you took a tray up to the young woman. She can’t possibly be awake already. What’s going on?” Duncan didn’t like the tone she had, but knew there was no hope for either him or the girl upstairs.

“She isn’t only awake, my lady, but she has gotten to the bathroom without assistance. And although her wound had opened again, she is now requesting, and quite strongly I should add, that I bring the young miss her clothing. She wishes to leave as soon as she is dressed, I believe. Shall I drive her home?”

“Leave? Well, we’ll just see about that. And no, you most certainly are not driving her home. She is going to recuperate here if I have to shoot her in the other leg for her to do it.” Duncan thought this was highly unlikely as Lady Sara didn’t even own a gun, but thought it wise to keep his mouth closed.

Sara took the now neatly folded clothes from Duncan and threw them back into the laundry room. She was heading up the grand staircase before he realized he hadn’t had the chance to ask Sara about the “gear” the girl had mentioned. When Lady Sara was like this, he found it best to move out of her way.

Oh my
, Duncan thought,
this can’t bode well for…
Well, he was not sure who would win this battle. He decided to call this round two, as her ladyship had won the first by putting the woman, Sam, into a deep sleep and had her brought here. Who knew how this was going to turn out? He thought things had been lively before, but he believed this woman might be able to hold her own against her ladyship. Chuckling to himself, Duncan picked up the clothing and began to fold it neatly again. Yes, he thought, things were about to be stirred up once again.

~CHAPTER THREE~

Luckily for Sam, she had turned her head to look before she spoke this time. She was ready and willing to blast the next person who came through the door if they didn’t have her stuff. She was still sitting on the toilet and neither her temperament nor the level of pain had improved much. Truth be told, she was hurting badly enough that she was actually considering getting back into the big bed and dying.

There were two kids standing in the door to the bathroom staring at her. The three of them observed one another for a good minute before the boy spoke. The girl was quiet, but she was not without activity. Sam felt her poke at her mind harder. The boy had tried, but had given up as soon as he hit her barrier. This was by and far the strangest household she’d ever been in.

“You know, you’re dripping blood on the floor. I don’t think that’s too healthy. My daddy said that blood is an important part of living for us.” Ignoring the blood comment, Sam glared as she spoke. “Is this place like Grand Central Station or something? Yes, I’m very aware that I’m bleeding on the floor, but if someone hadn’t have brought me here in the first place then I would be dripping on my own floor, not yours. Where’s that guy, the one with the tray? He was supposed to bring me my sh...my stuff.”

She’d had more visitors in this one room than she’d had at her apartment in two years. Actually, when she thought about that, it was sort of sad. She wasn’t going there right now; she had to get out of here. The girl poked harder at Sam’s wall. She thought about hitting her back, but with the pain, was afraid she’d hurt the girl.

“No. It’s just a house. You mean Mr. Duncan? I guess he’s in the kitchen. He’s always in the kitchen. He keeps the house for us, him and Miss Penny.” The boy seemed so serious and Sam wondered what he was. The other one, his sister, she assumed, because looking at the two of them together left no doubt in anyone’s mind that they were blood related, looked as if she was straining at something really hard. Sam knew she couldn’t break through. Sam had a great deal more practice and she might have been a little more powerful in that department.

“You all right, kid? You look like you’re about to explode or poop your pants. And as this one pointed out, I doubt either of those is too healthy. Neither is either of them going to make the owner very happy.”

“I can’t read you. Why is that?” the little girl asked. Sam had no doubt the kid was used to popping in and out of minds like a game, but not her.

“First of all, I’m not a book, so you not being able to ‘read’ me is a given. Secondly, has anyone ever told you it’s very rude to try and cop a feel into someone’s psyche without permission or provocation? I haven’t given you either, so mind your own business, kid. Thirdly, and I only bring this up because you are still trying, someone stronger than you could hurt you if you aren’t a little more careful with your searching.

You aren’t gentle. People shouldn’t be able to feel you enter and search. What you’re doing is what I think of as mind rape, so back off, kid.”

“You aren’t supposed to be able to feel me. Why can you feel me and nobody else has been able to before?” she groused as she stopped her foot.

Sam merely raised her brow. “Go ask your mother. I’m sure she has an answer for you. At least she seems to think she does about everything else anyway. Don’t you?” Sam looked up at the door across the room to stare at who she assumed was the children’s mother. They looked too much like her not to be. Sam had known she was there, just as Sam had known the little girl was in her mind. There was something

“otherworldly” about the boy, more so than the two women from today and the little girl standing there so defiantly.

Sam did have a tight hold on her mind, extremely tight. She had taught herself how to block people’s touches just after her mom had been killed when she was younger.

Some people just touched what she left out for them to find, a sort of open book of useless information and tidbits that anyone could find out about her without much effort. Then there were the people who bumped the wall and tried as hard as they could to breach it. The harder they tried, the more painful it became for them. Eventually, they would have to stop their efforts. Others, like the little girl, kept trying until they either exhausted themselves, or got a nose bleed, sometimes worse. Sam thought the little girl must be fairly strong, as she didn’t seem to be bothered by either just yet.

“I see you’ve met my children. This is Lizzy and Mac. Say hello to Sam Hunter, children, then go to the kitchen. I’d like to have a few words with Miss Hunter in private for a moment.”

“Oh no, that means you are in for some serious yelling. That’s what my dad says when she uses that tone with him.” Mac made his what turned out to be a very accurate prediction and sped from the room, chasing his sister and laughing at the top of his lungs.

“Cute kid. Must take after his dad.” Sam was hurting. But she had to get out of this place. And she didn’t care much for the bossy woman in from of her. Sitting up with as much dignity as she could muster while sitting on a toilet and bleeding, she looked Sara straight in the eye.

“You aren’t very grateful, are you? Doesn’t matter, I want you to get back into the bedroom and get off of that leg. You have lost more blood and it is doubtful you could stand to lose much more.” The lady of the house stood over her with her hands on her hips. Her tone said, “I’m lord of this house and all obey.” Well, not Sam. As she had told Duncan, she didn’t do well with orders.

“I’d like my clothes and my gear. I have asked for it several times now, and I’m frankly sick of doing so. I didn’t ask to come here. I don’t want to be here, and I’d like you to back the fuck off. Speaking of that, why the hell am I here?” It wasn’t as if Sam was used to getting her own way, but she did know her own strengths. She could also tell that this woman didn’t usually strong arm people, but was normally very nice. She just didn’t like to be told no and she was worried about Sam.

She couldn’t help it, Sam snorted. It was time to take action.

“I am the lady of this house and you would do well to…” The woman suddenly stopped and crumbled to a heap on the floor.

Turn about was fair play, Sam thought with a grin. “Yeah. Not so much fun getting knocked out when you want to make a grand exit, is it?” Sam knew she couldn’t hear her, but she felt good for saying it all the same.

Sam stood and white-fisted the vanity before taking a slow step into the bedroom.

The wound had stopped bleeding while she had been sitting still and not moving. Now that she was up, it was open and bleeding again. Nausea had her belly tighten up, but she knew there was nothing left in it to sick up. Sam stepped over the crumpled woman and left her lying there.

It took her a good two minutes to make it to the top of the staircase when she needed to rest again. She was afraid to sit down, fearing that she wouldn’t be able to get up again if she did. Sam was losing blood quickly now, and weakness and dizziness had become her new best friend. She decided to find a phone before tackling the stairs that would surely lead to freedom. She looked around, thinking in a house this big, there had to be phone on this level.

On the fourth try—how many friggin’ bedrooms does this place have anyway?—

she found a study of sorts. There was a desk, or at least she figured it was a desk, under that mound of papers and files, and a nice chair sitting several inches away from its messy counterpart as if were afraid. Sam certainly was. She sat in the overstuffed chair to use the phone to call for someone to come and get her. But first things first, she needed an address. She started looking over the mess of papers on the desk to find one.

~~~

Aaron MacManus had been trying to contact Sara for the past twenty minutes and was not having any luck. He began his ascend to the upper floors from his lair when he smelled the blood. He began his search in earnest for her now. He knew the blood was not Sara or the children’s, but he worried all the same. When he walked into his office some ten minutes later, he saw a young woman was asleep in his chair, or at least he assumed she was asleep. He knew whatever had happened while he’d been at rest, this woman was hurt badly.

Aaron didn’t know what had happened today, so he didn’t know who she was, why she was here, or more importantly, where his mate Sara was. He started to move forward when he noticed that Mac was sitting in the chair across from the desk watching the woman intently.

“Mac, son, do you know where your mom is?” He spoke softly, not wanting to alarm anyone, especially his son. Aaron whispered because he knew that his son would still be able to hear him.

“She was on the floor in the bathroom in the red room. Duncan put her in the pink room on the bed, I think. I’m pretty sure this lady did something to her. She’s okay, Mom, I mean, but I don’t know about this one. I think she is very weak, and she is leaving blood everywhere she goes like she’s got lots to spare or something. I told her what you said about blood being important and all, but she didn’t pay any attention.

I’ve been keeping an eye on her until the doctor comes again. Duncan is calling him now.”

“Good job, son, thank you. Who is she and do you know why she’s bleeding?” Aaron wanted to go to Sara, but he didn’t feel comfortable leaving his son with a stranger, unconscious or not. He was aware that if Duncan felt his mate was all right to leave on the bed, then she would be fine. But if this woman had hurt his mate—well, hell would be paid.

“Don’t know. She’s pretty, huh?”

Aaron walked toward his desk to check the pulse of the girl. It was weak, but not dangerously so, not at the moment at any rate. He could tell, though, that if she lost much more blood, she would be dead soon. She really was pretty, beautiful really.

Her hair was blondish brown and pulled back into a messy half braid. What he could see of it pulling loose; it looked to be pin straight and very long. Her skin was pale, almost white against the chair’s dark color. Her lips looked drained as well, more than likely due to the amount of blood she had lost than her lack of normal good health.