Her eyes glazed over and she began to type. “Of course.” She tilted her head to indicate the double doors behind her. “The access code is zero-seven-two-nine.”
Noah nodded and stepped behind the desk to complete his task. When he was done, he went in search of Ian. He found him outside the operating room, dealing with several staff members trying to refuse him entry.
One of the surgical scrub nurses, a brawny male, tried to stop him but Noah took the man’s face between his hands. “Stop,” he commanded. “No one will be harmed. You will let us pass and remember nothing. The policewoman’s injuries are not as serious as originally believed.”
The man visibly relaxed, his eyes glazing over. “Not so serious. You can go inside.”
They didn’t bother to scrub up or don protective covering, but merely walked into the operating room and, after placing everyone in a thrall, hurried to Allie’s side.
“She looks so pale,” Ian said to Noah. Tears welled in his eyes.
“We have to hurry or she won’t survive.”
Ian nodded and yanked away the wires and lines attached to Allie so he could begin her conversion.
Noah switched off the machines and his brother took Allie’s wrist in his hand and brought it to his mouth. Razor sharp fangs pierced her wrist, and Ian drank deeply while Noah removed the intubation from Allie’s throat.
At the moment before death, Ian closed the wound in her wrist and opened one in his own, allowing blood to drip into Allie’s mouth. Her eyes flew open, and with a feral growl, she lunged for Ian’s wrist. Newly developed fangs sank into his wrist, and he groaned while she fed from him, taking frantic gulps of his life saving blood.
Ian uttered a strangled sob. “Oh, God, she’s pregnant! Do you hear the heartbeat? The child is weak, Noah, so weak.”
Noah watched while his brother struggled to control his emotions, allowing Allie to take too much from him.
“Enough, Ian!” he commanded. “She’ll drain you. Let me feed her.” He placed a calming hand on Allie’s forehead and she released his brother. “Welcome back, Allie,” he crooned, then opened his own wrist. “You need more. Feed, little one.”
Once Allie had fed enough to be stable, her body began to heal of its own accord. Noah and Ian called upon the various staff to take Allie to a room. She would continue to heal and would be very weak for the next few days. Because their mutated blood now ran through her veins, she would retain the ability to walk in the daylight. Ian would need to stay by her side, allowing her to feed when needed, but she would make a miraculous recovery and never again be vulnerable to the perils of her job. Only fire and beheading could kill Allie St. Claire now. Noah fervently hoped the young woman would forgive them for what they’d done.
Noah gently stroked her hair. “Sleep, Allie. Rest and be strong.” He looked at his brother and shook his head. “I only hope this wasn’t a huge mistake, Ian. The consequences could be catastrophic. Olivia’s waiting.”
Noah made his way back to Olivia, dark thoughts filling his mind. If Allie couldn’t come to terms with what she had become, unimaginable terror would stalk the streets of New Orleans. The child should make a difference in her reaction. That was his hope, anyway. Regardless of Ian’s protests, both men knew the savagery a rogue vampire could inflict on the innocent public. Only time would tell how Allie would react.
Chapter Twelve
Olivia sat up with a start, worry filling her eyes when a young, female intern entered the surgical waiting room. Somehow, she’d fallen asleep.
The young doctor smiled. “Sorry to disturb you, but I thought you’d like to know. The surgery went very well. The injuries weren’t as bad as we suspected, and Ms. St. Claire is on the way to a private room.”
Olivia uttered sigh of relief. “Thank God.” Noah and Ian had been successful. She smiled at the intern. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Always happy to deliver good news.” The woman glanced around when Noah and Ian entered. “You can go up in about half an hour, once they have her comfortably settled.” She smiled shyly at the two men. “Well, back to work. Good luck.”
When the door closed behind the doctor, Olivia leapt at Noah and Ian. “You did it! She’s all right!” She hugged them both. “Take me to her.”
Noah shook his head. “You need to clean up first. You’re covered in blood. Dr. Littman gave his permission for you to use a shower in the on-call room. He left some clean scrubs for you.”
She looked down at her blood soaked clothes and nodded. “Good idea. Lead the way.”
The on-call room was dark and empty. A fresh set of scrubs and towels sat on the bottom bunk. Noah went into the bathroom and started the shower, adjusting the water to temperature.
“Come, love,” he said, holding out his hand for Olivia. “You’ll feel better once you’ve bathed.”
Olivia took his hand nodding listlessly. The last few hours had left her feeling numb with horror and disbelief. The thugs with the UZI had screeched to a halt near her car. What if they’d meant to attack her? Had she been responsible for Allie’s injuries, for the necessity of her conversion to save her life? Suppose this whole nightmare had been her fault?
A sob escaped her and she fumbled with her clothes.
“Shhh,” Noah soothed, pulling the bloody clothes from her body. His arms went around her, holding her tightly for a few moments. “She’s all right.”
“But what if those bullets were meant for me?”
He released her and began to undress. “Even if they were, it’s not your fault, Olivia. You are not responsible for the behavior of others.”
“But . . .” When his hand cupped her cheek her cheek, she noticed the twin puncture marks on he wrist. She frowned, noticing the telltale transparency of his skin. “You fed her.”
“Yes. She would have drained Ian otherwise.”
“You need to feed,” she said, pulling him into the shower with her.
“Yes, but I can wait until later, call a volunteer.”
“No.” She pushed her hair aside and leaned against him. “It should be me.”
“Olivia,” he said gently, turning her toward the water. “Let me take care of you.”
She closed her eyes and let the hot water ran over her head, rinsing away the blood. Then his hands were in her hair, his strong fingers massaging her scalp, washing away the evidence of the day’s violence.
“Just relax,” he whispered. He smoothed a citrusy-scented bath gel over her shoulders, his soothing fingers pressing against tight muscles.
She sighed and leaned back against his broad chest while he washed her. His cock twitched against her bottom and she knew, despite his protests, he needed her as much as she did him. Only Noah could make her forget, for a little while, the horror of seeing her friend shot down in the street. He had gone against his belief that converting a human should be a voluntary act and given his life’s blood to save Allie. That act alone meant everything.
It was the most natural thing in the world to reach for his hands and guide them, one to her breast, the other between her legs. “I need you, Noah. Feed.”
His hand closed over her breast, kneading, plucking at the nipple until it stiffened. Yes, yes, this is what she needed—Noah’s strong hands on her body, his mouth against her neck, him marking her as his for all time. He bit, and she moaned. The pad of one finger caressed her clit, slipped inside her pussy, then returned to slather the sensitive bud with liquid heat. She nudged him, restless with need while he fed. “Please, Noah.”
Olivia pressed her hands against the cool tile, bracing herself for his entry. The broad head of his cock parted her heated folds, penetrating slowly. Withdrawing, he sank back into her an inch at a time.
Oooh, God, she loved it when he fucked her like this, like an animal claiming its mate. Taken. That’s what she needed—to be taken, hard and fast, until she couldn’t think. Until the only sensation she could feel was his cock stuffing her, filling her until there was no room
for anything else in her body or her mind.
* * * *
Hard. Her body demanded it and that’s what he would give her. Noah closed the punctures in her throat and drove into her with a jarring thrust. She was hot, and tight, and so wet he nearly came. Her need to be taken called to a wildness in him that struggled to be contained lest he bury his fangs in that delicate throat again and turn her without consent.
And he’d thought the urge to bond had been difficult to fight. It had been child’s play compared to the need to turn her, to protect her from the Sentinel scum who sought to take her from him. For he had no doubt those bullets were meant for Olivia.
Her moans spurred him on, and he grasped her hips, ramming his cock into her until the sound of their bodies slamming together echoed off the tiled walls. She met each lunge with one of her own, sobbing while she fucked herself on his hard length. His balls ached to come, but he held back, pressing her against the cool tile with a growl, letting her take what she needed.
“Come, baby.” All that he was demanded she obey him.
She sobbed. “I can’t!”
He kicked her legs apart. “Oh, yes, you can!” Bending his knees, he withdrew, then straightened to his full height, hammering into her over and over. “God, your pussy’s so tight, pet. I love fucking you. I want to fuck you every day for the rest of my life. Just bend you over and ram my cock into you. Make you cry and scream because it’s so good.”
“Oooh,” she howled. “Yes, that’s it! Just like that!”
He pressed his finger against her swollen clit, teasing the hard pearl without mercy, and pounded his cock into her. “Now, Olivia, now!”
Her body stiffened and quaked and she came, screaming his name. Still, he drove inside her, quick and hard, until he found his own release with a roar of satisfaction.
With his breathing calming, he rested his chin on the top of her head. “I think we should get you home, love. You’re worn out, and Allie will sleep the night away. Ian will be with her, and we can come back first thing in the morning.”
“Just a peek at her, please?”
He nodded, knowing she’d never be able to sleep if she didn’t assure herself that Allie was all right. “Just a quick one.”
They rode the elevator to the surgical floor and stepped out into the dimly lit corridor. The room was across from the nurse’s station, and they could see Ian slumped in a chair next to Allie’s bed. The charge nurse looked up and raised her finger to indicate they could go in one minute, no longer.
Noah wrapped an arm around Olivia’s shoulder and they tiptoed inside.
Ian smiled tiredly. “She’s deeply asleep, and the child is getting stronger.” He looked at Olivia, then at Noah. “You need to get her home, brother. She’s exhausted. I’ll call if anything changes.”
Noah raised a brow. “She wouldn’t leave without assuring herself Allie’s okay.” He gave Olivia a squeeze. “You see, she’s all right. Now, let’s get you home.”
“Okay.” She leaned down and kissed her friend’s pale cheek. “I’m ready.”
Noah’s car was still parked in the emergency lot, so they took the elevator nearest the ER entrance and headed down. He keyed the lock and opened the door, settling her inside. Olivia rolled her head to look at him when he got behind the wheel. “Will she hate us, do you think?”
Noah gave her a reassuring smile. “She loves you. It’ll take time, but my guess is she’ll adjust as most do. And she’ll also have the baby to look after.”
“She always wanted a baby.” Olivia closed her eyes. “You’re right, the child will make all the difference.”
Noah maneuvered the car through the narrow streets of the Quarter, glancing at Olivia now and then. Suppose it had been she who had been shot. Would he have done the same? Of course, he would. Letting the women they loved die wouldn’t be an option for either of the Lazarus brothers.
He turned up Royal and scanned the nearby buildings. Whoever had attempted to kill Olivia wouldn’t stop just because they’d gotten Alllie instead. They’d consider her a bonus, because they surely knew the diminutive homicide detective was now Ian’s woman.
He pulled to a smooth stop outside Olivia’s condo and got out of the car. “We’re here, kitten,” he said softly, leaning in to brush a kiss to her temple.
She opened her eyes and smiled. “God, I’m tired.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and was just about to exit the car when a shot rang out and the windshield shattered. A bullet tore through the headrest where she’d just been dozing. Had she not turned to get out of the car, she’d be dead.
“Get down!” Noah shouted, shoving her to the floorboard. He vaulted, sliding across the hood of the car, and yanked the driver’s door open. He jammed the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. He slammed it into drive, peeling out. “This settles it, kitten, we’re getting you out of town, tonight.”
Noah drove as though the hounds of hell were chasing them and hit the ramp for the interstate doing eighty-five. He’d considered taking her to his home in the garden district, but decided against it at the last minute, certain the Sentinel would expect him to go there.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Baton Rouge. I have a house there that I purchased for just such an emergency. It’s owned by an offshore conglomerate that can’t be traced back to me. You should be safe there for the time being.”
“How long do you expect me to hide from these people, Noah? I’m not the type to cower. I meet my enemies head on and take them down.” She folded her arms across her chest.
Keeping his eyes on the road, he weaved in and out of traffic, which was mercifully light for rush hour.
“Not long, I promise. I’ll call Ian, and he’ll make sure Allie’s safe. Forty-eight hours.” He looked at the stubborn set of her mouth and sighed. “Will you give me that much time to see if I can find out who the assassin is?”
She gave him a terse nod. “Done. Forty-eight hours and not a minute longer.”
He reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’ll be all right.”
They drove the rest of the way in silence, and eventually, Olivia dozed.
* * * *
Olivia woke to the sound of Noah’s voice while he spoke with his brother about the latest attempt on her life. With a yawn, she sat up straight in the seat and looked around. They were driving down a well-maintained country lane, deep in the country. Baton Rouge, my fat Aunt Fanny. They were entering bayou country, and unless she missed her guest, he was taking her to an old plantation.
He looked over at her, smiling. “Listen, brother, Olivia just woke up and she’s got that look on her face that tells me she’s unhappy about her destination. I’ll talk to you later.” He closed his phone and raised a brow. “Okay, let’s have it.”
“Baton Rouge? I expected to be in the city, not out in the sticks.”
“Actually, we’re not far from the city. I called the caretaker while you were sleeping and told him to open up the house. You’ll be quite comfortable here, pet. The place has all the conveniences of living in the city—minus the assassins breathing down your neck.”
“Ha, ha,” she retorted.
His face was suddenly serious. “This is no joking matter, Olivia. The Sentinel will not stop trying to take you from me.”
She shook her head. “I understand. This kind of fanaticism . . . it’s passed down through generations. Why are they so afraid of you? You don’t harm people. You don’t turn them indiscriminately.”
Noah turned up a paved drive bordered with overhanging oaks. “They fear what they don’t understand, like every other bigot. Perhaps it’s the fact that we go on when they can’t.” He gave her a meaningful look. “We need to discuss whether or not you’re willing to accept conversion. The only way they’ll be able to kill you is by fire or beheading, and as I told you, with our enhanced senses, it’s very hard to get close enough to harm us. I’d like you to think about it while I’m gone.”
&
nbsp; “I will. I promise to think about it, but it’s a huge step, Noah. Even bigger than marriage.”
He nodded his understanding. “Indeed. Gives new meaning to the words “til death do us part.” He looked up when they approached the house. “Here we are, and there are the Garber’s, standing on the porch, ready and waiting to see to your every need.”
“Oh, my, it’s beautiful.”
Olivia waited for Noah to come around and open her door. “How long have you owned it?”
“I bought it after Ian’s wife was murdered.” He took her hand and helped her from the car.
It was a stunning home, painted a traditional white; a wide, wraparound porch; and thick columns supporting a second-story verandah. Huge double doors, painted a dark green that looked almost black, stood open to welcome them, and baskets of Boston ferns and bright flowers hung beneath the eaves.
Flirt Page 12