Hosts to Ghosts Box Set

by Lynne Connolly

  The doctor nodded and returned to his work. All through the procedures which must have hurt like hell, Jordan watched Karey, kept all his attention on her. She kept in his sight, did everything Charteris told her.

  Sarah lifted her head. “Foret is outside. Go tell him everything is fine. Tell him it’s mostly cuts and grazes.”

  She understood. If she didn’t do that, Bernard would raise the alarm.

  His poor damaged mouth flickered in an attempt at a smile. Her heart breaking, Karey forced a smile back and left the room.

  Bernard was waiting outside. “What is it? What’s happened? He looked dead!”

  She had to dissimulate. She couldn’t let him call an ambulance. “No, it looks a lot worse than it is.”

  Bernard blinked at her in disbelief. “His arm was broken and at least one leg. What’s happened?”

  She swallowed. “I don’t think his leg is broken, precisely. There’s a doctor here, someone Sarah knows, and he’ll decide if Jordan needs to go to hospital. All that blood was from a few cuts, and we’re cleaning him up. He looks better now.”

  She went back into the room and watched the doctor work, following his instructions to apply pressure to a wound, or to hold a part of skin together without question. All the time she prayed.

  Eventually the doctor sighed and rolled his shoulders as he stepped back to examine his work. Untold time had passed, but they’d sutured the wounds and splinted his broken limbs. Rough and ready, but enough to hold him until nightfall. Without him having to ask her, she rolled up her sleeve and offered her arm. The doctor took a little more care, inserting the tube with more concern for hygiene and minimizing the pain.

  She watched her blood cascade along the narrow tube and into her husband, then returned her attention to his face, and they watched each other, a lifetime of love in their eyes. In the time since she’d discovered his vampirism, she’d never considered this, that he’d die first. Neither had he, she was guessing. He didn’t contact her telepathically, probably because it would take too much energy, but they didn’t need it. Not now.

  Then the doctor stopped the flow and nodded to Sarah. “Your turn. You can give more, but as a mortal, her blood is better.”

  * * * * *

  When she became aware of the time, it was because she could no longer see properly. She moved quietly to the bedside tables and turned on the lights. The sun hadn’t yet gone down, but it wouldn’t be long now.

  A knock at the door made her start. “Go,” Sarah said. “It’s Foret again.”

  She hated to leave him, but when she felt his mind feebly touch hers, she shook her head. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Wait for me.”

  He smiled, or perhaps he moved his head so in the dim light it looked that way.

  “He’ll be fine,” she said as soon as she’d closed the door behind her.

  “Let me see.” Before she could stop him, Bernard drew out his master keycard and slid it through the slot on the door. He shoved the door open and Karey heard him swear.

  “What are you doing here?” Sarah’s voice came sharply.

  “I could ask you the same question. I never saw anyone arrive.”

  Karey looked past Bernard into the room, where a tall, dark man stood by Jordan. One of the donors Sarah mentioned. He must have flashed in.

  “Yes you did. You just showed me up here.” Karey felt the mental push when the man spoke, but it wasn’t for her. “Don’t you remember, Bernard?”

  She couldn’t help it; her attention went to the bed where Jordan lay. He’d turned his head away from the door; Karey guessed he’d extended his fangs to take the proffered blood. She felt his mind in hers, achingly familiar. “Clever girl! Now get him out of here.”

  “Come on, Bernard, you can see Jordan will be all right.”

  Another mental persuasion. They’d had no time to clean up, and the bedsheets were saturated with blood, some of it crusted and drying. Bernard shook his head.

  With a glance at Sarah, her stance over Jordan protective, Bernard backed out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him. It sounded like death to Karey.

  She faced the man. “Go and shower,” Sarah said. Karey sensed no mental persuasion, but a small message, meant only for her. “Some vampires dislike donating blood in front of a mortal. He’s strong enough to keep contact with you mentally now.”

  “Go, my love.” His words sounded strong now. “Rest. I’ll call for you when it’s done, I promise.”

  She went. She wouldn’t have done it for anyone else, not even Sarah. She must be positive for the man whose mind resided so strongly in hers now. Without looking back, she opened the door to her room and left, going inside her room, a sense of numbness pervading her, together with sheer exhaustion.

  Her attention went to the laptop, closed and mute on the vanity. Earlier they had worked on it together, his arm warm around her shoulders. How could this happen? How could things go wrong like this?

  When she stood she noticed the dull marks on her jeans. Blood. Instead of her usual repulsion, she felt that she never wanted to take them off. It might be her last connection with him.

  No, she still had him safe in her mind. She cradled the presence resting there, trying to keep the connection herself, rather than allowing him to put out the energy he needed to use.

  Stripping for the shower she felt him, curling around her as though he was there for real. She imagined him standing behind her in the shower. If she just moved backward half a step she could feel him, his body against hers. She chose not to step back. That way it was her choice, her call. Not life or death. Just a step.

  After her shower, she found a dress, a little crumpled. A blue shift, hanging nearly to her ankles, with very little shape to it, but cool and comfortable. It would do.

  All her attention centered on Jordan, her mind concentrated on the unfamiliar task of holding him close. Although he tried to protect her she felt his pain, like borrowed agony. “Let go” she urged. “Let go, my love, I can bear it better than you. It won’t be long now.”

  He must be very weak for she felt his release like a long outbreath, a sigh of relief. She gasped. Now it hurt when she felt his pain. But she was whole and strong. It gave her something to do, to help him bear his agony. For it was agony. She could tell just where it hurt, the piercing pain from broken bones, the ache from the many bruises and lacerations, all knitting together, scabbing over, healing. She hadn’t realized the process would hurt. She bore it with fortitude, and found sweat beading on her body.

  Sarah would tell her when she could return.

  Her mind, searching for release, scanned the building, remembering the events of the afternoon.

  Captain Armstrong and his assistant! Where the fuck had they been? They couldn’t possibly have not heard the commotion as Sarah brought Jordan in. The office was right next to the hall, and nobody had lowered their voices.

  Filled with a new purpose, Karey shoved her keycard in her pocket and headed for the stairs.

  Captain Armstrong and his assistant were in the office sure enough. Fast asleep. For the first time since Sarah stepped through the door with Jordan in her arms, Karey smiled. They were sleeping like babes, Armstrong with his head tilted back on the chair, snoring peacefully. She had no doubt one of the visitors had given them a push to sleep. Why they hadn’t to Foret, she didn’t know, but perhaps he had barriers of his own. A practitioner in the dark arts would have something to protect him.

  Leaving the officers to their afternoon nap, Karey went back to her room and waited.

  And waited. Jordan’s pain dulled over the next hour, but it was still agony. It gave her some satisfaction to help him bear it, but she wanted to be there with him. Would his visitors never leave? She reached for him, and wasn’t sure whether it was her imagination or not when she felt affection curl around her, warming her. It became stronger, more positive. She returned it.

  “Rest, Jordan. You need to conserve your strength.”
r />   “I know. I need you, Karey. I love you. I want you to know that.”

  “I love you too.”

  The sharp rap on her door startled her. She opened it to see a woman, one she had never seen before. “You’re his wife?”

  “I am.”

  The expression in the pale blue eyes softened. “Keep the faith. Sarah says you can go in now.”

  The woman walked up to the end of the corridor and turned the corner. Karey knew if she followed, there would be nobody there. She would have flashed out.

  Karey hurried to Jordan’s room to find the door slightly ajar. She took care to close it quietly behind her.

  Across the room, facing the door, Jordan lay on the bed, legs lashed to metal rods, and old-fashioned splints strapped to each arm, not much better than the makeshift ones they’d applied earlier, but his limbs were fastened straighter now. Presumably they’d straightened the bones and set them. She flinched when she thought of the pain he must have masked so she wouldn’t feel too much. He was naked but for his boxers and the white bandages wrapped around the lacerations. His face was swollen on one side, his lips swollen and bruised, one eye black.

  He was still Jordan, still the man she loved. She would love him whatever he looked like, because she knew what him inside. Always and ever Jordan.

  His gaze found hers, and his swollen mouth tried to smile. “No, don’t.”

  “I can’t help it.” The sound was hardly recognizable, and almost whispered. Sarah sat next to him on a chair she must have dragged over from the vanity. Karey crossed the room and sat on the bed, taking the greatest care not to disturb his poor body.

  “I’m here now.” She exchanged a speaking glance with Sarah. “Will he make it?”

  She felt a stirring next to her bottom. Jordan was trying to move his hand. She moved a little and placed her own hand over his. He stopped moving, but his eyes remained hungrily fixed on her face.

  “I don’t know. He’s taken much blood. The community was generous.”

  Charteris stretched. “I’ve done what I can.” He glanced at Sarah, who got to her feet. “You may wish to be alone.”

  With a reassuring glance at Jordan, Karey got to her feet and walked around to the side. She offered her hand to the beautiful woman, and then to the doctor. “I can never thank you enough.” Tears pricked her eyes.

  “You’ll return the favor, if I ask,” Sarah said. “I know that. That is enough.”

  “Sarah—“ she hesitated, but decided to continue—“How did you carry him here? I thought vampires only had their powers after sundown.”

  “I’m more than vampire. I’ve worked with masters to develop techniques to make myself safe during the day.”

  “We were lucky to meet you when we did.”

  Sarah glanced at Jordan. “He called for help. I came. That’s all.”

  Charteris turned his attention from his patient to Karey. “Now you must wait. He must keep completely still, or the wounds will open again. They’re not sealed, not stitched, merely bound. He’ll be much better after tonight, but he will need at least one more night after that before he’s fully restored. I offered painkillers, but he won’t take them. He is afraid that if he sleeps, you won’t be protected.” Karey nodded.

  Sarah stood still and straight, her timeless clothes making her appear like an Empress of old, one who held much wealth in the land of her forefathers’ birth. “Whatever happens now, you’re still in danger here. Jordan can’t help you fight off the fiends if they come for you. I know you will not leave here while he is here, as you should, so I offer you this.”

  Sarah reached behind her head and drew up a red cord, which had been hidden under her dress. At the end of the loop dangled a small, cloth wrapped bundle. “It is a charm of power, and may help you. All you have to do is grip it in both hands and deny the reality of what is happening around you. It should bring you back here. It won’t last more than one use, so be sure that you leave here tomorrow. With or without your husband. He’ll be well enough to take care of himself, but you’re in danger here.”

  She lifted her arms and draped the loop over Karey’s head. The bundle fell between her breasts. Sarah lifted the loose neckline of Karey’s dress and tucked the bundle inside. “It should be worn next to the skin.”

  “Thank you,” Karey whispered.

  Sarah gave her a wan smile. “Don’t sleep tonight. That’s when you’re most vulnerable to the invasion of the spirits. Destroy the bundle tomorrow. It will be of no use then, but I don’t wish the caplata to find it. He could contrive a spell against me, if he has the remnants of one I’ve cast.”

  “I swear it.”

  Sarah moved quietly, gliding across the carpeted room with no sound at all. Turning back, she gave Karey a warning glance and obediently, Karey followed her out the door.

  The mamba stared at Karey, her eyes liquid in the low light of the hall. “He refused to take blood from Didiane Merchand.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. We think Didiane has been behind some of the attacks.”

  The woman frowned. “It isn’t good. This was public, Karey. He rejected her before his peers, refused to accept her donation. She was furious when she left. I tell you because she will be after you now. She is vengeful, that one.”

  “She always was.”

  “Didiane will seek to use this. As soon as Jordan is well, leave this place.”

  Karey promised and kissed the priestess on both cheeks. “We can never thank you enough.”

  She went back into the bedroom. The door closed quietly behind her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Karey stared at Jordan, willing him to recover. When he turned his poor, ruined face to look at her she felt like dying, right there. One eye was bloodshot, and the surrounding flesh was bruised and puffy, but the other side was almost perfect, except for a scratch across his cheek. They gazed at each other, time stopping until Jordan spoke into her mind, so easily it seemed he’d always been doing it. They’d changed the sheets, and apart from a few fresh bloodstains, the bedlinen was again crisply white.

  “You should go.”

  “Not with you here, like this. I want to be here when—”

  “When I die?”

  “No!”

  He tried to smile when he heard the vehement denial, his lip curling briefly over his broken teeth. Dear Lord, was there no part of him left unbroken?

  “If this had happened to me six months ago I would have given up and welcomed the release. I’m fighting, Karey, fighting for you.”

  Her throat was too full; she couldn’t speak, or even think. Why did he say things like that? Why hadn’t he told her before?

  “Rest, Jordan. Try to save your strength.”

  “Come lie next to me, Karey. It’s a big bed, you won’t hurt me. I want to look at you.”

  “It helps?” She wasn’t sure it was wise for her to do that, but fear of hurting him might help to keep her awake, and fatigue was beating at her with strong wings.

  “It helps. I won’t have to move to look at you if you’re next to me.”

  She went and lay next to him after removing her blue dress. She might as well give him more to look at. The little pouch bumped between her breasts, warm from her body.

  How could anyone grin mentally? But she felt it, felt his tender smile as he looked at her. She lay next to him, feeling absurdly self-conscious. “Will you rest now?”

  He groaned, and she reached her hand out to touch him before hastily drawing it back. He hurt everywhere. There wasn’t a part of him unaffected.

  “Someone tampered with the car. When we leave, we’ll call a cab from the city, not take any chances with any of the vehicles here. The brakes went, I felt them go, but the car was rented, and it had a clean bill of health when it left the office.”

  “Who could have done it? Do you think the ghosts somehow cursed it?”

  Again she felt his wry smile, but his face didn’t alter at all, his eyes hungrily staring at he
r, devouring her. “It’s possible. Not likely, though. What do ghosts know about mechanics?”

  “Didiane?”

  “Not unless she got someone to do it for her,” he told her. “Didiane doesn’t know cars.”

  “Bernard Foret, then.”

  “Much more likely. He has his own agenda. He wants the necklace, but not as a trinket, as Didiane wants it, but because he thinks it will bring him power. No-one else here feels like that, and his mental barriers are unusually strong.”

  “Stop talking, Jordan. Rest.”

  He did smile then, a small twitch of his lips. Tears sprang to her eyes and there was no hiding them this time. He watched her weep, and then go into the bathroom to wash her face when she could finally control her emotions again.

  His savage anger that anyone should make her cry slashed through her. “I’ll kill Foret for this.”

  * * * * *

  When the knock came on the door, Karey slipped her dress on before she answered the summons. One of the kitchen staff stood in the doorway with a tray of tea and sandwiches.

  Karey smelled the iced tea and knew it was just what she needed. Hunger roiled in her stomach. To the answered query she answered, “He’s sleeping. The doctor says he’ll be fine after a rest. A few bruises, nothing broken.” She choked down her tears when she remembered the ruined man lying helplessly on the bed, and took the tray. “Thank you for this. Just what I needed.”

  She hoped the news of his recovery would get around the hotel. The last thing she needed was rumors about Jordan. If he died, they would manage something. She didn’t care. If Jordan died, she wouldn’t care about anything ever again.

  “Come here where I can see you.”

  She moved to the side of the bed, balancing the tray on the bedside table. “That’s better. Now drink your tea. I’m not going to die, Karey. You need me, so I won’t go.”

  “Jordan, I—”

  “Be quiet and drink your tea. Let me rest.”

  Smiling, she sat where he could see her without having to move, drank her tea and ate the sandwiches, which were plain cheese and tomato, but deliciously fresh. Surprised to find she was hungry, Karey suspected Jordan might have ‘helped’ her appetite along a little by suggestion.