Runaway Vampire (17 page)

Shrugging, she smiled at her reflection, then turned and opened the bathroom door.

Dante was seated at a small table beside the bed, a half-eaten feast on the table before him. He got quickly to his feet when she entered, though.

“I didn't want to put the dirty T-shirt back on after showering, but I have no clothes,” Mary announced as she entered the bedroom.

“They are hanging in the closet,” Dante said. “Russell had the hotel launder them. You can put them on later. Sit now. Eat.”

Mary glanced toward the closet, but then made a beeline for the table. Now that food was on offer, she was suddenly aware that she was
very
hungry. Pausing beside the table, she admitted, “I'm starving.”

“I am not surprised,” Dante said, his voice a little husky. “You have not eaten in four days.”

“Really? All it took was four days for me to turn?” she asked with surprise. She would have expected longer for a transformation like this.

“You are still turning,” he assured her solemnly. “You are just through the worst of it. The rest will complete over the next weeks or months.”

“Oh,” she murmured, turning her gaze back to the food.

“As for how long a turn takes, it varies. For some it is faster, for some longer. Your injuries probably contributed to the length as well.”

“Right,” she murmured, wondering what her injuries had been. From what he'd said, they'd been life threatening, but had it been head trauma, or had she been pinned? Crushed? Skewered by a piece of metal?

Maybe she didn't want to know, Mary decided, and admitted, “I don't remember much. I know they drove us off the highway, and then it was like the RV exploded.”

“The RV did explode,” he said, but quickly added, “after I got you out.”

“Oh.” She sighed her relief and grimaced. “I don't remember that. I just remember everything flying at me and—” She whirled and glanced around the room with alarm. “Where is Bailey?”

“She is fine,” Dante said quickly, taking her arm and urging her into the chair across from the one he'd been seated in. “She broke a leg in the accident, but—”

“What?” Mary cried, jumping to her feet again.

“She is going to be okay,” he assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder to push her back down onto her chair. “She is at the veterinary hospital.”

“And they've kept her four days?” Mary asked with alarm, popping to her feet once more. Vets did not keep dogs that long unless it was terribly serious. Hell, she'd had dogs that were operated on and sent home the same day.

“Russell . . . convinced them to keep her for a few days because we thought it best she not be here while you were going through the turn,” Dante explained soothingly.

Mary didn't need to ask to know he was talking about mind control when he said
convinced
.

Dante added, “It was for the best. We had enough on our plates looking after you and trying to keep anyone from calling the police to report a murder. We couldn't watch Bailey too.”

“What murder? Why would anyone call the police?” she asked with a combination of alarm and confusion.

“Mary,” he said solemnly. “The turn is very painful.
You have been screaming your head off for four days. We had to take turns, two of us holding you down to ensure your bindings did not snap and loose you to hurt yourself, and one of us out in the hallway controlling anyone within hearing distance.”

“You tied me down?” she asked with amazement.

“We had to. You would have hurt yourself otherwise,” Dante said apologetically.

“I would not,” Mary assured him indignantly. “I'm not into cutting or any of the other self-abuse things.”

“It is not a matter of being a self-abuser,” he assured her. “It is a matter of the pain being so great that . . .” Dante paused as if searching for an example, and then sighed and said, “I heard once of a turn who stabbed himself in the eye trying to end the agony.”

“E
www,”
she said, sitting down abruptly.

“
Si
. Exactly.” Dante nodded. “I wished to avoid your doing something like that.”

“Thank you,” Mary muttered, trying to imagine how bad pain had to be to make a person do something like that. She couldn't even imagine it though. It just seemed so alien. Shaking her head, she admitted, “I don't remember suffering any pain.”

“That is a blessing then,” Dante said and began to move the plates with food still on them closer to her.

Mary stared down at the food before her, and then glanced up and asked almost apologetically, “You said Russell is sure the kidnappers followed us back here?”

He nodded.

“So they drove us off the road and then just let this Russell and Francis collect us and bring us here?”

“Not exactly,” he said dryly. “When the kidnappers forced us off the road, Russell and Francis were in the SUV directly in front of us. I do not think the men in the van even realized they were there. The RV probably blocked their view of them.”

Mary nodded. She had noticed the SUV he was talking about. It had practically been riding the RV's front bumper. She had no doubt the kidnappers hadn't known they were there and had probably thought the road empty when they forced the RV off the road.

“Russell and Francis pulled over at once when we were forced off the road,” Dante continued. “Apparently shots were exchanged and then the kidnappers must have decided not to risk themselves. The van pulled away and Russell and Francis gave chase, but we were only miles from town. Russell and Francis had to slow down once they reached the more populated area to avoid harming innocent mortals. The van, however, did not and they lost them. Russell and Francis then came back for us.”

“I see,” Mary murmured, accepting the fork he handed her. She managed to wait until he'd reclaimed his seat, then dug in. Literally. She was suddenly starving, her stomach churning with it, so she started with some sort of pasta dish that was quite nice, then halfway through it, picked up a chicken leg and began to alternately gnaw on that and scoop pasta into her mouth until she realized that Dante was watching her with amusement. Realizing what a disgusting picture she must make, she set down the fork as well as the chicken leg and reached for the glass of water he pushed toward her.

Mary took a sip of the cool water, then set it down and asked, “Is it the nanos that are making me this hungry? Am I always going to be wolfing down food? And if I am, how the hell are the nanos going to keep me at my peak condition?”

Dante chuckled and shook his head. “You will not always be this hungry. No doubt this is a result of a combination of the turn and not eating for four days. As for the nanos keeping you at your peak, they will. It is as simple as that. You can eat all day and night and they will keep you at your peak. They will also use a great deal of blood to do it, however, which means you would have to consume more of it.”

“Oh.” Mary had picked up her fork again, but now lowered it to the table and glanced down at her new hands worriedly. She hadn't considered that part of the deal. It was awesome and lovely to look and feel young and strong again, but he had turned her to do it. She would have to feed . . . on blood. Mary wasn't sure she could do that. She didn't even like rare steak. The blood turned her off.

“Eat Mary, you can worry about everything else later,” Dante said gently.

She hesitated, but then gave in and picked up her fork again. Her stomach was still churning with hunger, and she hadn't eaten for four days. She reminded herself of that and then decided that starving herself would probably mean taking in extra blood too.

Once Mary started to eat again, Dante picked up his own fork to continue eating. They were both silent for a bit, and then Mary said, “Everything smells so . . .
much,” she ended finally, because she couldn't think of another way to put it. The good smells still smelled good, but were stronger, and it was the same for bad smells. Mary had never cared for blue cheese, the smell had always bothered her, and there was a very small, thin slice of it on a steak on a plate in the center of the table, probably more as a garnish than anything, but it smelled to her like there was a pound of blue cheese under her nose.

It was just one of the scents assaulting her, though. Mary could smell everything as if it were concentrated and set directly under her nose . . . including Dante. He had a deep, almost smoky scent combined with a higher note that was slightly coppery. It was quite wonderful, and to her, smelled more delicious than any of the food on the table.

“I did tell you that the nanos improved skills and senses,” Dante reminded her softly.

“You said they improved speed, strength, eyesight and hearing,” she countered. “You did not mention smell.”

“Ah.” He shrugged. “I was born immortal, so have never experienced the difference myself. I can only tell you what I was told by others,” he pointed out. “I suspect the truth is the nanos improve pretty much everything.”

“Hmm,” Mary murmured and turned back to her food. After a moment, however, she jerked her eyes to him again and said, “This means I won't need my glasses anymore, doesn't it?”

Dante's eyebrows rose. “You wore glasses?”

“Oh.” She flushed, and dropped her gaze. “I only needed them for reading. I never needed them when I was younger. I had better than twenty-twenty vision then. It was only as I got older that I started having trouble with reading and such.”

“I see. Well, you will not need glasses anymore,” he said softly, and then grinned and added, “Although that might be a shame. I suspect you were sexy in glasses.”

Mary laughed at his teasing, but merely shook her head and returned to eating. Between the two of them they finished off everything on the table, and still she was hungry.

Giving a little dissatisfied sigh, Mary set her fork back on her plate and leaned back in her seat, her gaze shifting to Dante. Now that all the food was gone, the smells in the room had been reduced a great deal. The primary smell filling her nose now was Dante, and he did smell delicious.

“Your eyes are glowing,” Dante announced quietly after a moment.

“Are they?” Mary asked with disinterest. Then she smiled seductively and stood to walk around to where he sat. Pausing in front of him, she whispered, “I must be feeling passionate then.”

Dante stood at once, but rather than take her in his arms as she'd hoped, he moved around her and walked toward the small fridge in the entertainment center, asking, “Are you thirsty? Would you like something to drink?”

Mary scowled at his back. No she didn't want a bloody drink. She wanted him to take her in his arms
so that she could lay her head on his shoulder, bury her face in his neck and lick, nuzzle and nip her way along the vein pulsing there and—

“Dear God!” Mary gasped and turned away in horror.

Hearing Dante approaching from behind her, she turned, mouth opening to warn him to stay away. She never got the words out; the moment she turned to warn him, he slapped a bag of blood at her mouth. Mary blinked in surprise, automatically reaching for the bag, but he dumped the other two bags he'd brought with him onto the table and caught her hand with his now free one as he held the bag in place with the other.

“Relax,” he instructed. “Your fangs will do all the work.”

Mary tried to relax, but it was the oddest sensation. She could feel the cold liquid moving up her fangs. She couldn't feel it after that, but she could feel it in her fangs and she wasn't sure she liked it. In fact, she was quite sure she didn't. It was blood after all. She was consuming
blood
. She was a
vampire
. One of those horrid creatures that fed on mortals like a leech, filling its belly on blood from people like her friends, her children and grandchildren.

Mary's eyes widened with horror as it occurred to her to wonder how this would affect her life in more ways than just her looks. How was she to explain this to her children and grandchildren? How was she—?

“Mary,” Dante moved closer.

She glanced to him and saw the concern on his face. It seemed pretty obvious that he could see her mounting distress. Sliding one arm around her, he pulled her
close, and then tugged the blood bag from her teeth. She waited to be splashed with the red liquid, but wasn't. The bag was already empty, she saw with surprise as he tossed it to the table. Dante then caught her chin in his hand, turned her face back to his, and kissed her.

Mary hesitated, but quickly gave in and kissed him back. She didn't want to think about what she was now and everything it meant. She didn't want to consider the complications, and his kisses seemed a good escape from her thoughts.

The moment she opened her mouth to him, Dante caught her by the bottom and lifted her to sit on the table, pushing the dishes back with her behind as he did. Mary didn't protest, she merely wrapped her arms around him and then her legs and kissed him hungrily. She didn't realize her fangs were still out until she tasted blood in her mouth and realized she'd nicked him.

Moaning, Mary immediately found herself sucking on his tongue, drawing the warm, coppery liquid from the small wound and swallowing it eagerly. Some part of her mind immediately stepped back from her when she did that, horrified that she could enjoy the crimson liquid, and she feared Dante was doing the same when he suddenly broke their kiss, but then she found another bag popped to her fangs. She blinked at him over the bag, worried and grateful all at once, and Dante kissed her on the forehead. It was a sweet gentle kiss and made her feel better at once.

When she relaxed against him, Dante took her hand and placed it to the bottom of the bag. Mary auto
matically grasped it, and the moment she did, Dante grabbed the third bag and placed it in her free hand, then scooped her up off the table and carried her to the bed. Once there, he dropped to his knees, lowering her to sit on the end of the bed as he did. He then sat back on his heels in front of her.