If she hadn’t heard their scuffle and come out to investigate, Nick wouldn’t have worried about her seeing them and—lacking the distraction—wouldn’t have slipped up and allowed himself to be stabbed. So he would’ve dragged the guy back to his house and finished questioning him. His own insecurities had led him to fuck up. But he would not divulge that. “I would’ve found shelter. I always do. I would’ve made it through the day.”
She blinked. Her brow furrowed. “You don’t die during the day like fictional vampires do.” The hours they had spent making love during the day had proven that.
He forced another smile. “Because I’m not dead. Or undead. I’m very much alive. I’m just infected with a weird-ass virus.”
She rested a hand on his bare chest, over his heart. “You aren’t dead.”
Covering her hand, he pressed it harder against him. “I’m not dead.”
“You said photosensitivity is one of the downsides of the virus. What are the others?”
“It causes progressive brain damage in ordinary humans infected with it that rapidly drives them insane.”
When her eyes widened in alarm, he hastened to reassure her. “But I’m not an ordinary human, Kayla. Remember? I’m a gifted one. And the advanced DNA I was born with protects me from that aspect of the virus.”
“So you won’t go insane?”
“I won’t go insane. We call the humans who do vampires. The rest of us we call Immortal Guardians because…” He really didn’t want to drop this particular bombshell, but wanted there to be no more secrets between them. “Because we spend our nights hunting and slaying vampires who harm or kill humans.”
“Like Blade?”
“From the Wesley Snipes movies? Yes.”
She stared at him a long moment. “Vampires really attack humans like in the books and movies?”
“Yes.”
“And you kill them.”
“Yes.”
“To protect humans.”
“Yes.”
“Global security,” she murmured.
His raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“Eliana said you’re in global security. Because you and the other Immortal Guardians protect people all over the world.”
He nodded.
“How have I never heard about this? Why doesn’t any of this ever show up on the news?”
“Because a network of human allies works with us to ensure that it doesn’t.”
“Oh.”
Long minutes passed. Nick didn’t mind. Every second she continued to let him hold her gave him hope.
“This is so unreal,” she said finally.
His whole life was unreal. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
She studied him, her gaze stripping away every facade. “I imagine it’s not an easy thing to share.”
He shook his head. “Even when I love the person I want to share it with.”
Resting a hand on his cheek, she stroked his beard stubble and continued to hollow him out with her beautiful eyes. “I know we have more to talk about,” she said softly, then arched a brow, “Mr. Furball.”
He smiled, a genuine one this time.
“But could we maybe do it after we wash the blood off and regroup?”
Relief returned. “Of course.”
Releasing him, she stood. Nick rose beside her.
She glanced down. “Oh.” Bending, she picked up a 9mm he hadn’t noticed on the floor.
“Is that yours?”
She nodded. “I almost shot Marcus with it. When he sank his fangs into your arm, I thought he was a vampire and intended to drain you dry.”
“And you would’ve shot him to protect me?”
“Yes.”
Admiration filled him. “That’s so hot.”
Amusement brightened her features. “Full disclosure—after Roland took my gun, I grabbed a knife and planned to plunge it into Marcus’s back.”
“Damn. That was ballsy.”
She glanced down, then gave him a look of mischief. “Speaking of ballsy, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you naked without an erection.”
He sent her a wry smile. “I’m too nervous to be turned on.” Otherwise, hearing she’d almost skewered Marcus in an effort to protect him would’ve swiftly raised his flag.
Her smile slipped away. “You’re nervous? Really?”
He nodded, determined to hold nothing back now. “If I weren’t, I would definitely be hard because I think strong women are unbelievably sexy. And you’re the sexiest.”
She smiled… despite the fact that he’d just dumped a steaming pile of what the fuck in her lap. “Flatterer.” Taking his hand, she headed for the stairs. “Come on. Let’s go get clean.”
Nick followed her upstairs, through her bedroom, and into the adjoining bathroom.
She grimaced when she caught her reflection in the mirror. “Sheesh. I look like Carrie on prom night.” A hell of a lot of blood coated her face and clothing. His blood.
He winced. “Sorry about that.”
“Stop apologizing,” she admonished gently. After releasing his hand, she leaned into the shower and turned on the spray.
He shook his head, barely stopping himself from confessing how terrified he was that she might decide this was all too much. He hadn’t thought the violence in his life would ever reach her doorstep. He hunted vampires miles away and never left any alive to follow him home. No one who wished him harm was supposed to have ever come close to her.
Yet tonight they had.
Even if she was able to overlook the danger that posed to her, Kayla had a daughter to think about. She wouldn’t want to do anything that might put Becca at risk when she was home. And if tonight had proven anything, it was that being with him was dangerous.
Steam rose and began to warm the bathroom. Kayla peeled her stained, sticky tank top over her head and tossed it in the sink. Her lacy white bra, which now bore red splotches, followed. Bending forward, she shucked her yoga pants and bikini panties and started to throw them in the sink, too, but hesitated as she stared at the floor. Shrugging, she dropped the pants.
Nick followed her gaze. He stood on a fluffy white bathmat, staining it with bright red footprints. “Oh. Shit. Sorry about that.”
“Stop apologizing,” she repeated gently.
He instinctively opened his mouth to apologize for apologizing.
But she covered his lips with her fingers. “Nick?”
“Yes?”
“Get in the shower.”
Snapping his mouth shut, he nodded and stepped into the bathtub/shower combo.
Kayla followed and drew the curtain closed behind them.
Nick had shared quite a few showers with Kayla since they’d become lovers. Sometimes he’d lather up his hands and glide them all over her beautiful body until they were both needy, then he’d lift her up and take her against the wall or kneel and bury his face between her legs or flip the switch from shower to bath, lie back, and draw her down to ride him until she screamed. Other times he’d ignore the desire she always inspired and laugh and chat with her while he washed her hair or they took turns soaping each other’s backs.
They never seemed to run out of things to talk about. He loved that.
But now heavy silence blanketed them as the water that sluiced down turned red with his blood and they reached for the soap.
Nick hadn’t felt this anxious or unsure since he had told his family what he had become.
That had been a disaster. He should’ve expected that, should’ve known how it would go. Malleus Maleficarum had basically equated vampirism with the worst manifestation of the devil. With no knowledge of DNA or viruses, his family had lacked a way to differentiate him from vampires when he’d told them of his transformation. So they had repudiated him. Even his beloved brothers, who had always been his best friends, had hated him for what he’d become.
Instead of trying to accept him and help him, his mother had cringed away from him whi
le his father and brothers attacked him and tried their damnedest to kill him.
He supposed he’d merely strengthened their belief that he was an evil monster by effortlessly fighting off all four of them even though he’d done so without inflicting too much harm.
Missing his family desperately, he had tried to approach them again years later, hoping time would have helped them find a road to acceptance.
It hadn’t.
His family had known him from birth. They had seen what a good and honorable man he was before the fateful night a vampire had attacked him.
Kayla had not known him for nearly as long.
She rested a hand on his chest. “There aren’t even any scars.”
“There never are,” he murmured as he reached for the shampoo.
She met his gaze. “Do you get injured often?”
“Not to this extent. Hunting and slaying vampires always entails violence. But I’m stronger and possess greater skills than most of my opponents, so I usually fare well.”
“But sometimes you are injured?” she pressed.
“Yes. I heal quickly though. Quickly enough that sometimes the wounds disappear before I even get home.” And he’d always consumed enough blood to ensure they were gone before joining her after work.
When she offered nothing further, he squeezed some shampoo onto his palm and returned the bottle to the shelf. “Will you let me wash your hair?”
Nodding, she gave him her back.
Nick lathered up the thick, soft strands, careful not to get any shampoo in her eyes. The crown of white suds he produced turned pink as they removed the blood that hugging him had transferred to her long tresses. After rinsing them away, he added some conditioner, then applied himself to washing his own hair.
He wished he could draw things out more. Wished he could make this shower last.
For all he knew, he might never have another with her.
Heavy silence returned.
Kayla rinsed her hair and stepped out of the shower.
She dried off on autopilot. Dragged a wide-toothed comb through her tangled hair. Grabbed some clothes. Mismatched bra and panties. More yoga pants. Another tank top.
Her comfy clothes.
She even pulled on a pair of her supersoft, fluffy pink socks that had bunny faces on them.
Then she sat on the bed, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do next.
Nick emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips. He paused a moment when he saw her, then crossed to the dresser. They’d been spending so much time together that she’d cleared out a couple of drawers for him. And he had done the same for her at his place.
As she watched, he took out a pair of boxers, dropped the towel, then drew them up over his muscled ass. No scars marred his back. Or neck. Or chest. Or abdomen.
After adding a pair of cargo pants and a T-shirt, he carried his towel back into the bathroom. When he returned, he held all their bloody clothing and the bathmats wadded up in a ball.
He hesitated. And the uncertainty she read in his handsome features filled her with sorrow. She wanted to reassure him. Wanted to tell him everything was okay. But her mind was all over the place, clamoring with questions one minute and freakishly silent the next. She just needed to take a minute to absorb everything.
He cleared his throat. “I should go downstairs, clean things up, and see what’s happening at my place.”
Right. They’d left quite a mess down there.
Nodding, she rose.
“You don’t have to—”
“I’m coming with you.”
Clamping his lips together, he nodded and strode from the room.
Kayla followed him.
As they tromped down the stairs, she avoided stepping on the crimson footprints he’d left behind when he’d climbed them earlier. They were a creepy reminder of just how much blood he had lost.
Nick’s shoulders stiffened when he saw them. He opened his mouth and drew in a breath, then clamped his lips together once more, obeying her earlier admonition not to apologize again.
The kitchen was gorier than she remembered. The white towel on which Nick had lain was red now. He’d bled copiously enough to stain the tile around it, too. Large, ruby footprints left by Marcus’s and Roland’s boots peppered the floor. Smaller prints left by her led farther into the kitchen from when she’d darted over to grab a knife.
“Shit,” she said softly as she stared at the blood, then looked up at her grim lover. “I’m glad you’re immortal.” If he hadn’t been, he likely would’ve died before she’d even found her phone.
He studied her intently.
A tentative knock sounded on the back door.
Kayla started forward.
Nick shot a hand out to stop her. “You aren’t wearing shoes.”
She glanced down. She would have to tiptoe to get past the mess without staining her socks.
Nick moved forward instead and glanced toward the back door. He nodded at whomever he saw. “Come in.”
The door opened and closed. Oliver emerged from the laundry room.
Kayla stared at him. Hadn’t he been in Cabo when she’d called him?
“Hey, man.” Striding forward, he drew Nick into a rough hug. “You okay?”
Nick nodded.
Oliver stepped back, gave him a quick once-over, then turned to her. “Hi, Kayla.” Stepping around the towel and pool of blood, he surprised her by drawing her into a hug, too. “Thanks for calling. I’m glad you’re both okay.”
She hugged him back. “Thank you for helping. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t answered.”
Backing away, he surveyed the kitchen. “Wellllll shit. This was a helluva way to introduce you to our world.” He glanced at Nick. “Way to go, big guy.”
Kayla laughed, a little surprised she could do so under the circumstances.
Scowling, Nick yanked up the bloody towel and headed into the laundry room. She heard the washing machine lid lift. Seconds later a wash cycle began.
Oliver circumvented the mess, then followed her smaller footprints toward the stove. Swiveling, he caught her gaze and arched a brow. “I wondered where you went after Roland took your gun. You grabbed a knife?”
She nodded.
He smiled as Nick returned. “I knew she could take care of herself. She handled it like a pro.”
Nick’s expression didn’t lighten. “She shouldn’t have had to handle it at all. Is the network crew here?”
“Yeah.”
“Do they know who the bastards are, who they’re working for?”
“Not yet,” Oliver said with a hint of exasperation. “Give them a few minutes. They just arrived.”
“What network crew?” Kayla asked. Hadn’t Nick mentioned something about a network?
Oliver answered while Nick grabbed a mop. “Some of us mere humans are smart enough to understand that we really need these Immortal Guardians. If they didn’t hunt and slay vampires every night, vampires’ numbers would have swelled so quickly that humanity would’ve been wiped off the planet a long time ago. So a worldwide network of us help the Immortal Guardians in any and every way we can. Right now some of our guys are over at Nick’s place, combing through the clues like a police forensic team so we can figure out who attacked him tonight and what the hell they thought they would get out of it.” He motioned to Nick, who filled a bucket with water and a mopping solution. “They can also clean this up. You don’t have to do that.”
Nick shook his head as he set the bucket on the floor and began to mop. “I made the mess. I’ll damn well clean it up.”
Oliver held up his hands in surrender and backed away until he stood beside her. “The network crew will probably want to speak with you, Kayla.”
“They have no reason to,” Nick snapped. “She didn’t see any of the men.”
Oliver met her gaze. “Did you hear anything?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Just a couple of thuds. I
think it was probably when Nick caught up with the man who jumped the fence. By the time I looked outside though, they were out of sight.”
Nodding, he watched his friend mop.
Nick didn’t look at them while he worked. Face grim, he just mopped, changed the liquid in the bucket, mopped, changed the liquid in the bucket, and mopped some more. He seemed determined to eradicate every tiny speck of blood or dirt left behind, as though he could erase the whole incident by doing so.
She glanced at Oliver. He shook his head.
Maybe this was just Nick’s way of dealing with it. Everyone had their own process they used to make sense of things. She went quiet. Nick apparently cleaned.
Oliver crossed his arms over his chest and watched his friend. “Do you think this could be related to the old man?”
Nick didn’t look up. “No.” If he kept it up, that floor would be clean enough to eat off.
Kayla returned her attention to Oliver. “What old man?”
“When you were in the hospital and Nick was with you, someone recognized him—an old man by the name of Richard Roubal who was a very young man when he met Nick a long time ago. Nick feigned ignorance. But later the old man showed up next door, wanting to know why Nick hadn’t aged.”
Nick didn’t age?
Of course he didn’t. He’d told her the peculiar symbiotic virus that infected him healed almost any damage, including that caused by aging. And someone from his past had recognized him.
Crap.
“I don’t see how this could be related,” Nick said. “Seth handled that. And he didn’t just bury Roubal’s memory of me from the hospital and when he showed up next door, he erased it so there would be no chance of him ever recovering it. He erased the driver’s memory, too.”
Oliver frowned. “I’d ask if you thought a vampire had followed you home, but vampires don’t work with humans. Not anymore anyway. Not since we defeated the mercenary outfits.”
Nick nudged the bucket farther into the kitchen, chasing her footprints with the mop. “And not since we eradicated Gershom’s influence.”
“Right.”
Outside, the sun crested the horizon. Golden morning light spilled through the windows.
Kayla covered her mouth to stifle a yawn as fatigue crept in now that the adrenaline rush had ended.
Broken Dawn Page 17