Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Incredible pain.
He’d felt worse, but the pulsing, burning ache deep inside made it difficult to focus on when that might have been. The beast was restless. And they were both hungry.
His memories were dull and clouded, and he couldn’t remember what he’d been doing before waking. What was the last thing he remembered? It was difficult to think past the pounding in his head—a red flag that he was low on blood.
Ginger.
Where was Ginger?
His first instinct was to sit up, but he couldn’t move his body. He was weak as a newly made vampire. That wasn’t good. Think. They’d had lunch, or what passed for food, at a small-town bar. He’d gone outside. That was it. He’d forgotten his wallet.
Vampires had been waiting for him.
His eyes opened, and though he couldn’t move his head, he glanced around the unfamiliar room. A cheap motel. That was unfortunate. He could have used the room service attendant for blood except for the problem of not being mobile.
A warm body moved next to him, and he managed to nudge his head enough to see the dark-brown tendrils spread across his chest. He released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. She was here. Something was going his way. His arms were plastered at his side, but he lifted his head again, this time with more movement. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough to see the bandage on his upper left arm. The rest of him was covered with a blanket.
He’d also caught more details of the room. A shopping bag sat on the table by the window, a cooler was on the dresser across from the bed, and, in the corner, a duffel had been placed on a suitcase rack.
How did he get from the parking lot at the bar to this motel room? He closed his eyes, and bits of memory stirred. Someone dragging him. Ginger begging him to take a step. Blood dripping into his mouth, then him sucking the sweet nectar that tasted of her.
His eyes shot open. She’d fed him with her own blood.
She moved. It was subtle, but he recognized the signs of her waking.
Then her head popped up. “Lucas?”
She pushed herself up and stared down at him. Her face still scrunched from sleep, her gaze full of worry, but then she smiled.
Somehow, he knew everything would be alright.
She ran a hand over his face and pushed a loose strand of hair away. “Morning. It’s good to see you awake.”
When he didn’t say anything, her smile faded. “Can you hear me? Can you talk?” She picked up his hand and released it. It fell on the bed with a thud. “You still can’t move.”
He licked his teeth and the roof of his mouth. “No.” His throat was raspy, and she twisted around to grab a bottle of water.
“Will water help?”
He nodded, irrationally pleased by the small movement.
She knelt and strained to lift his upper body to stuff a pillow under him. After she drank the first few sips of water, she tipped the bottle to his lips. He drank two small swallows before she took it away and dried his chin and neck where the water had dribbled.
She waited a minute, mumbled soothing words, then lifted the bottle once more. He was allowed the same small amount as before, and she repeated drying his face before setting the bottle aside.
When she turned back, she gripped a dagger.
His eyes went wide.
“Don’t bother trying to avoid this. You have major injuries that are still leaking blood. You’re obviously too weak to do anything more than open your eyes, and the jury is still out on whether you can speak. We’ve spent too much time in one place, and I can’t move you anymore. You need to be able to walk. Or crawl. I’m not particular. But you will not fight me on this.”
With her lecture firmly stated, and his voice not strong enough to protest, she sliced her palm and held it against his mouth. He’d never wanted to take blood from her. A dangerous path indeed. But they were in survival mode, so he took what she offered.
The beast didn’t argue when her palm reached his lips. And it was the beast who suckled. At first, with hard, deep pulls, then slowing—the taste of her blood intoxicating. During it all, she ran her hand through his hair. Then he remembered nothing at all.
The next time he opened his eyes, the TV played a black and white movie, the volume set low. Ginger hunched over the table, a large to-go cup, most likely coffee, within easy reach. She stared at a travel map and occasionally scratched something down in a notebook. Every so often, she would peer through the sheer drapes at the parking lot—either daydreaming or watching for vampires. Probably both.
As if sensing eyes upon her, she turned to him, and that smile that seemed only for him lit her face. “Hello, sleepyhead.”
“Where are we?”
“In a small town about fifty miles west of Durham.” She stood and stretched. Her sweatshirt rose above the waistband of her leggings, giving him a view of her belly.
He groaned with frustration at not being able to hold her. At not being able to protect her.
She climbed onto the bed and knelt next to him, peering down with a questioning stare. “You seem better.”
He lifted his arm and managed to set it on her knee. “More motion than the last time I woke. How long was I out?”
“This time? About two hours.”
“Since the attack?”
“A couple of days. Do you want to try to sit up?”
After some effort, most of it supplied by Ginger, Lucas leaned against more pillows with a better view of the room.
“I’ll check your bandages in a couple of hours and feed you again.”
He opened his mouth then reconsidered when she planted her fists on her hips. Her eyes squinted with the same look his sister gave him when she was ready for a fight.
“Will you lie next to me?”
Her spirit changed instantly, and without another word, she settled herself next to him.
“How safe are we?” It was time for him to know how much trouble they were in.
“I found a tracker on the rental car. If the vamps are following it, they should be on their way to Idaho, but I imagine it didn’t take them long to figure out they got punked. I dumped our duffel and everything in it and started over. I think we should get a different rental once we decide on our destination.”
“What happened in the parking lot?”
It took a moment before she spoke. When she did, everything spilled out so fast he had a hard time keeping up. He listened without questioning, from the moment she found him in the lot, to hiding the two dead vampires, getting him in the car, then covering their tracks and finding a cheap motel in a small town off the beaten track. This wasn’t the first time she amazed him. Her actions weren’t from Sergi’s or any other vampire’s playbook. They just didn’t think the same way as humans. Standard procedure when being chased by an opposing force with deadly intent would be to continually change cars and find the fastest route to an allied House, which, if driving, would be the interstate, not the back roads.
“What’s the map for?”
“You need blood donors or a healer. Preferably both. I figured New Orleans, but I don’t know what Houses might be between here and there that could help. I’ve been reviewing various routes. The smaller state roads are the best, but they take longer.”
“Have you contacted Sergi?”
She bit her lip. “I was worried someone might be able to trace the call, even with the new burner I got. And I didn’t want to give away our location.”
He nodded. Chances were slim anyone could trace the call, but that didn’t make it impossible. She was alone, and he was nothing but dead weight at the moment. He couldn’t fault her decision.
“You’re doing everything right. We’ll contact him once I’m mobile.”
She relaxed, and they sat in silence. He breathed in her essence, freshly washed with a soap scent he didn’t recognize. This moment reminded him of the occasional mornings he could sleep in. They would lay in bed together, talking about random things that didn’t mean much of anything, yet revealed a bit more of themselves to each other. And though he couldn’t move, this was the safest he’d felt since they’d arrived in Boston.
“Tell me a story.”
She snorted. “A fairy tale, perhaps?”
“Something about you. I know your mother is alive and living in Seattle, but you’ve never mentioned any siblings.”
She tensed for a split second. If he had to guess, it was a reflexive response she’d never completely been able to erase. He recognized it because he carried a personal familiarity with the sensation.
“I have a brother and sister, both several years older than me.” She moved away to sit against the headboard, her knees pulled up, but her arm still pressed into him. “My dad called me their love child because they’d had me late. Mom thought it was funny, but my brother and sister became uncomfortable any time it was mentioned. It might have been for some other reason, but I cringed every time Mom or Dad said it. It was as if my brother and sister weren’t made out of love but for some requirement, like checking something off a list.”
She hugged her arms around her knees. “I guess it sounds kind of petty now, but I never felt like they wanted me around. One of them always had to babysit me rather than go out with their friends. Most of the time, it was like I didn’t belong. At that early age, a few years is a huge gap between siblings. I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to explain. But I rebelled.” She released a sharp laugh. “They say the youngest in the family tends to be the wildest. So, I guess I fit the pattern.”
He wanted to hold her and share words of comfort. That she belonged somewhere now. “I don’t think it’s petty. To a child, those things stay with them. It’s hard to shake.”
“It sounds like you might know something about that. You don’t talk about your family.”
He shrugged. “Not much to tell. Two older brothers. One younger sister and another who died not long after her birth. As the youngest male, it was expected of me to go to another House. Find a place for myself.”
Ginger curled into him again, her head resting on his shoulder. “You miss your sister.”
He was going to deny it as he so often did. But Ginger was someone he wanted to share everything with. The only one. “I miss Rosalynn a great deal. But I didn’t leave on friendly terms with the family.”
“Rosalynn?” He’d felt her tense when he first said the name but, as she repeated it, she relaxed and laid her head against his shoulder. “Rosalynn is your sister.” Another moment passed before she squeezed his hand. “It’s a beautiful name.”
“For a beautiful baby sister, who was like my shadow. But, similar to you, my brothers were much older than me, and while there was an age gap between me and Rosalynn, we shared many happy times together.” He smiled as he remembered his sister’s childhood, but then an old anger poked at him. Maybe he wasn’t ready to discuss something that happened so long ago. “She’s married now to the eldest son of another House. My father didn’t have the sense to arrange business relationships with other Houses in order to make ours stronger. He fell upon old traditions of marriage between Houses to build strength and close allies.”
“You didn’t approve of the marriage.”
“She was in love with someone else at the time. From what I knew of her beau, he was in love with her as well. But he was only the second son of a House, and though it was a powerful House, it wasn’t good enough for Father. My sister had a tender heart and had been raised to do what she was told.”
“Is she happy?”
His heart beat painfully at her simple question. And it reignited the shame he’d locked away. “I don’t know. I’ve written, but it’s been some time. I know she’s comfortable and well-cared for, but happy? I hope so.”
She gripped his hand. “That’s so sad. I don’t think I’d have the strength to marry for the sake of someone else’s convenience.”
“You would have stood up to your father. Of that, I have no doubt.”
“Oh, absolutely. And that’s the obvious way of showing strength. But to do what you believe your family needs at the expense of your own happiness is its own kind of strength. Whether we agree with the practice or not.”
He hadn’t considered his sister’s actions from that perspective. Regardless, was it fair to force that burden on someone for such a high sacrifice? “I don’t think Lyra would have agreed so easily if Guildford had agreed that a union with Venizi was necessary. You walked away from your family to find the peace and freedom to become your own person. I think everyone should have the right to do that.”
“But sometimes it comes at a cost that not everyone is willing to pay. And some are still paying for it.”
“Are we talking about Rosalynn or you?”
Though she didn’t respond, her scent changed. There was more to the story that she wasn’t comfortable sharing. Was she embarrassed or unsure what he’d think? He didn’t want to push and changed the topic to something he’d always been curious about.
“How did you meet Cressa?”
She sat up and leaned away again. Their discussion made her jumpier than he’d ever seen her. One minute, needing comfort, the next, needing distance. Then it hit him. When the story was about her, she pushed away, still touching, yet retaining her space. Perhaps a flight response. Then, she snuggled back when it was his turn to reveal something. As if she wanted to reassure him she was there.
And there he was, unable to hold her when he sensed she needed it the most.
“We met at the Lowdown.”
“That’s the bar near your apartment.”
She nodded. “It was Bulldog. Cressa was new to the Hollows and, being a single white girl, he was all about safety in numbers. Or maybe it was to help me.”
“In what way?”
She picked at her nails, then chewed on one. He hadn’t seen her do that since the first day they’d met. This was going to be bad, but he couldn’t think of anything she could have done that would make her any less dear to him. But he gave her the time to tell the story in her own way.
“When I first left Seattle, I drove south, stopping to see the cities and sights along the way. The only trips our family ever took were down the coast to the same city every year. I wanted to head someplace warmer without all the gray skies and rain. I don’t know why I stopped in Santiga Bay, but it was a decent-sized city on the coast, which I still love. The coast, I mean.” She relaxed at this part of her story. A good time for her. “I thought I’d stay for a bit then move on. I found a decent job, but the edge of the Hollows was the only place I could afford, and it was a tiny studio at that.
“The job was great until the company ran into hard times and had to let some of the staff go, which, yep, included me. It didn’t take long to land another job. The pay was half of what I’d been making, and it was tough to make rent each month. I found a second job but it still wasn’t enough. Mom wanted me to come home.” She wiped at an eye. “I felt like such a failure. Of course, I was too proud, or too stupid, to tuck tail and go. I had a boyfriend. God, what a mistake that guy was. Before I figured that out, I let him move in to share rent. He ended up buying a bunch of stuff that turned out he couldn’t afford. I thought he was dealing weed or something, and to my shame, I didn’t complain about the new furniture, big screen TV, or bitchin’ entertainment center. Not until one day when he wasn’t home and the loan shark came calling.”
She wiped a tear away and didn’t look at him, preferring to stare straight ahead.
“Turns out, the asshole went out for that proverbial pack of smokes and never came back. He’d run off when he couldn’t pay the loan shark. But there I was in an apartment full of the remnants of his loan, and I ended up on the hook for the debt.”
Lucas didn’t have any words. He understood how loan sharks worked. They didn’t care who paid them as long as they got their money. With Ginger at her most vulnerable, she was an easy mark.
“So, there I was, owing a debt with interest compounding daily. I’d never see my way clear, and Sorrento knew it. The only chance I had to make the payments and eventually pay down the loan was to dance at one of his clubs.” She sniffled and turned her face away. “When I met Cressa, I’d been working at the club for a couple of months. It was another four months before she found out why I was dancing there. She was already Pandora. Had been long before she moved to the Hollows. She asked me to move in with her because she had a spare room. Said she could use help with the rent. Then she did the unthinkable.”
“She spoke with Sorrento and took over your debt.”
She whipped around so quickly, Lucas reflexively flinched. It was one of those good news with bad timing moments. His ability to flinch was a sign the healing was almost complete and he should be mobile soon. But the timing was bad.
Ginger’s eyes widened, and she leaned back. “Oh, my god.” Her expression quickly changed, and she lowered her gaze to stare at her chewed-up nails. “I wasn’t going to do anything.”
“I know that.” He touched her arm. “Seriously, you took me by surprise. Did you see me flinch?” He found distraction was the best policy in these situations.
A small grin appeared. “I did. I think that’s why I was so alarmed by your reaction.” Her smile widened. “How long before you can completely move?”
“I don’t know, but it should be soon. Maybe by morning.”
“You should take more blood before we go to bed.” She must have thought he’d refuse because she forged ahead. “Don’t argue with me. I need you up, and if not in fighting mode, strong enough to get in and out of the car on your own. Then we can get moving. I’m getting this itch that we’ve stayed too long as it is. So, you’re getting blood whether you want it or not.”
He couldn’t help but grin. He wasn’t sure if his facial muscles changed, but he could feel the grin just the same. “Yes, ma’am.”
She growled. “Just look at us. We’re sharing the most depressing stories of our lives. No wonder we’re on edge. From now on, not one more sad tale. Not on this trip. Deal?” She held out her hand as if to shake on it.
“You’re kidding, right?” He tried to lift his hand, but the single flinch had drained his reserve.
“Too soon?” She crooned and stepped off the bed. “I didn’t hear that we had a deal.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Do you think you’ll be okay for a few minutes while I run over to the diner? They’re pretty quick with the meals.”
“Sure. I’ll just lay about and appear menacing if anyone breaks down the door.”
“That’s the spirit.” She gave him a peck on the cheek, then one on the mouth before prancing to the door. She gave him a cheeky grin before disappearing.
She didn’t fool him. The fact she could flit between being sad to having such an upbeat attitude was what made Ginger so special. And that was before adding in her compassion. She still hurt inside and wasn’t happy about the debt Cressa took on. The debt Cressa now owed Devon. He’d wait until he was fully healed and back to his fighting strength. Then he’d find a way to make that pain go away. He owed her that much.