by Lynsay Sands
Martine, he thought suddenly as he recalled Elspeth’s words to her mother in front of the house. The using him business had obviously been about Elspeth’s literally biting him. From what he could sort out, Martine had wanted her daughter to bite him to get the blood she’d been in need of. Probably because of her getting stabbed, he guessed. As for the Council and execution part of the conversation, he suspected biting wasn’t allowed and might be punishable by death or something. He supposed he’d have to ask if that were the case.
“It is.”
Wyatt glanced to Tybo uncertainly. “What is?”
“Biting mortals is against Council law here in North America except in cases of an emergency,” Tybo explained. “And it is punishable by death. Martine should not have been trying to talk Elspeth into doing it.”
“I’m thinking we should tell Mortimer about that,” Valerian said quietly. “From what I’m reading from Wyatt’s memory, she didn’t just try to talk Elspeth into it. She took control of them both and tried to force it.”
Wyatt glanced at him sharply as he wondered what else she’d controlled. Had she made them kiss? It was possible, he supposed, but he didn’t think she’d controlled their response to the kiss.
“Why would she do something like that?” Rachel asked with dismay, distracting him. “It could have got Elspeth executed.”
“Elspeth seemed to think Martine was trying to get her thrown out of the country and sent back to England,” Wyatt told them solemnly as he recalled the argument he’d overheard.
“Really?” Rachel asked with amazement, and then shook her head. “I’d heard Martine had some control issues, but that’s seriously messed up.”
“Yeah, but that business about her getting stabbed might have pushed Martine over the edge,” G.G. commented quietly, and when all eyes turned to him, he explained, “Elspeth was apparently stabbed this morning. And Martine is pretty overprotective. That would have freaked her out.”
Tybo’s phone rang just as the screaming died abruptly in the next room.
Spinning on his heel, Wyatt hurried to the door, yanked it open and rushed across the kitchen to peer down at Elspeth with concern. Much to his surprise, most of her injuries appeared to have healed. The shallower gashes and abrasions that had covered her were gone, while the deeper, more serious one had healed into scabs and some even to scars. Even her face was healing, her features beginning to look like hers again. At least, she was recognizable as herself now. But she was also dead still and silent.
“Is she all right?” he asked fretfully when Rachel appeared beside him and began to examine Elspeth.
“Yes,” Rachel said with a smile. “She’s still healing, but the worst of it is over now. She should sleep through the rest.”
“Good,” Tybo said, putting his phone away as he joined them. “Because we have to get Elspeth home.”
“What?” Wyatt asked with surprise.
“Martine is going ballistic. She’s been calling Elspeth for hours and not gotten a response.”
Wyatt’s eyes widened. “I don’t even know where her phone is. Or her purse.”
“Probably strewn all over the road,” G.G. said with a frown. “I doubt anything in her purse survived.”
“The point is, Martine couldn’t reach Elspeth,” Tybo said, and then glanced to Wyatt and added, “And when she found out your grandmother couldn’t get ahold of you either, she called Mortimer in a panic.”
Cursing, Wyatt pulled out his phone and saw that he had twelve missed calls. He hadn’t heard it ring, but then, between the loud music and Elspeth’s screaming . . .
“I wouldn’t bother calling your grandmother,” Rachel said soothingly when he started to punch buttons to do just that. “Martine has probably taken control and soothed her already. She wouldn’t have wanted her to call the police about the two of you going missing. Immortals avoid getting the authorities involved in anything.”
“Did Mortimer tell Martine what happened and where Elspeth is?” G.G. asked with concern.
Tybo nodded. “She was going to head straight here, but Mortimer assured her we’d take her home at once.”
“Elspeth’s car’s in the parking lot across the street,” Wyatt told them.
“But her keys were probably in her purse,” Tybo pointed out.
“Nope,” Rachel said, pulling them from Elspeth’s jacket pocket. “Unfortunately, they’re as wrecked as she was,” she added, grimacing as she looked through the broken bits of plastic and bent keys.
“We’ll take her home in our SUV and arrange for her car to be picked up and new keys to be made tomorrow,” Valerian said, taking the mess from her. Glancing to Elspeth, he asked, “You’re sure she’s through the pain part and won’t suddenly come to screaming life in the car on the way to her place?”
Rachel hesitated and then sighed. “You know these things aren’t always predictable. She should be done, but . . .” She shrugged helplessly.
“We’ll keep her chained for the ride,” Tybo decided. “And I’ll sit with her in the back to be sure she doesn’t wake up and cause problems.”
Valerian nodded and then glanced at Wyatt. “Are you okay to drive?”
“Of course,” he said at once. “I wasn’t the one hurt.”
“Yeah, but it’s after 1 a.m. and it’s been a long day for you,” Tybo pointed out.
Wyatt’s eyes widened incredulously. But he checked his phone again and saw that it was nearly one thirty in the morning. He had no idea where the last six and a half hours had gone. It hadn’t seemed like he’d been here that long.
“I’ll drive him,” Rachel offered. “It’s on our way home anyway.” She glanced to Sam then and added, “If that’s okay with you?”
“Sure. I’ll follow and take you home from there,” Sam said easily.
“It’s all settled then,” G.G. commented, and Wyatt noted the amusement on the man’s face. The giant obviously thought it was funny how the immortals were settling his life for him, but Wyatt didn’t care in that moment and allowed himself to be ushered from The Night Club.
It wasn’t until he was in the passenger seat of his rental, following Tybo and Valerian’s dark SUV home, that it occurred to him to wonder if he really wasn’t upset at having his life decided for him, or if someone had taken control and ensured he would go along with their plans without causing a fuss. Wyatt had barely had the thought when he suddenly found himself growing weary, closing his eyes, and drifting off to sleep.
Seven
Elspeth was smiling when she opened her eyes, the remnants of sleep clinging and leaving her feeling sated and drowsy. She couldn’t remember her dreams, but despite that was reluctant to wake up fully and abandon them, so let her eyes drift closed again. Only to have them pop open once more when a loud laugh disturbed her peaceful dozing.
Recalling to her unwanted guests, Elspeth groaned and dragged her pillow over her head, but when she felt a tug and pinch at her inner elbow, immediately pushed it away again to look at her arm. She stared with confusion at the catheter taped just below the bend of her arm and then followed the tube up to an empty IV bag that hung from a stand next to the bed. More disturbing than that, though, were the dried streaks of blood on her arm . . . and hand and fingers, she saw with a frown. On both arms and hands and sets of fingers, Elspeth realized as she reached to pull the catheter out of her arm.
Confused, Elspeth hurriedly tossed the sheets and duvet aside, leapt from bed and rushed into her bathroom. She skidded to a halt on the cold tile floor, though, when she spotted herself in the mirror over the sink.
“Dear God,” she breathed, her gaze sliding over her reflection. She was completely naked, which was odd. She usually wore a nightgown to bed, or at least a T-shirt and underwear, but that wasn’t what had her gaping. It was the dried blood covering her body. It seemed to be everywhere, in her hair, on her face, her neck, her chest and stomach, arms and legs.
Elspeth ran her hands lightly over the streaks and clu
mps of dry blood and shook her head with bewilderment.
“What the hell?” The words were barely a breath of sound, but it startled her out of her inactivity. Giving her head a shake, she forced herself away from the mirror and to the shower. Obviously, she couldn’t do without one, she thought, struggling with her confusion.
Elspeth turned on the taps, and then stepped back as the water sprayed out. As she waited for it to reach the desired temperature, she tried to sort out how she’d ended up so bloodied. She wound up having to run through the last two days, from being stabbed on the soft call, to her visit to The Night Club, which was the last thing she remembered clearly. She recalled leaving The Night Club with Wyatt, chatting on the curb with him as she surveyed the traffic. She’d been considering whether to control the drivers or wait for a natural opening and then—
Elspeth closed her eyes as she recalled tumbling into the road, reaching out with her hands to break her fall, and then being slammed from the left, knocked to the pavement, and then rolling as a dark and hot monster rode over her, repeatedly catching at her, spinning her and crushing her as it passed until she knew no more. Literally. She didn’t remember anything after that until she woke up here in her bed.
“Right,” Elspeth breathed. She’d been hit by a car. Sighing, she reached out to test the water. Finding it just the right temperature, she stepped under the spray and tugged the curtain shut. At first, she just stood there with her head bowed, allowing the water to pour down over her as she thought.
Elspeth couldn’t recall how she’d got home, but presumed G.G. had got her back here. Although, she thought, reaching for the soap and beginning to run it over her body, the mortal bartender couldn’t have done it without help. It would have taken an immortal to keep her from being taken away by an ambulance, she was sure. And to control Wyatt, who would probably have insisted on that ambulance.
Wyatt. Where was he and how had he been handled? Elspeth wondered about that as she ran the soap over her breasts. She then stilled at a sudden flash of memory of someone else’s hands gliding over her body. It was more like a remnant of a dream. A warm body at her back, whispering by her ear, followed by kisses along her neck that sent shivers through her entire body before arms slid around her and hands claimed and caressed her breasts, holding, squeezing, and lifting them eagerly until she moaned and leaned her head back against a strong shoulder. And then she turned her head to the side and a mouth claimed hers, a talented tongue invading to explore as one hand slid away and drifted down over her stomach to slide between her legs.
Gasping, Elspeth blinked her eyes open and then shifted quickly out from under the spray as both eyes were hit with water. Leaning against the shower wall, she hugged herself briefly and tried to sort out what had just happened. Where had that come from? Because it certainly hadn’t been a real memory from something she’d experienced in life. Her mother had seen to that. During the short bouts of time she’d managed to steal for herself away from her mother, all Elspeth had managed to experience were a dozen stolen kisses and a groping session or two.
Realizing she was almost panting, Elspeth closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. She then set the soap back on the holder, and stepped determinedly under the water to let it sluice away the soap and the remaining blood. It took longer than it would have had she used soap and her hands to help with the effort, but the fragment of memory she’d experienced had been disconcerting. Elspeth wasn’t ready for more, so took the time and concentrated on how she would get out of the apartment without her mother knowing. Because she was quite sure that her little car accident would just increase her mother’s protectiveness and make her more determined to stick to Elspeth like glue.
By the time she stepped out of the shower and began to dry herself off, Elspeth had an idea. She dressed quickly, pulled her hair back into a ponytail and then took a minute to rearrange the pillows in her bed, and cover them with the duvet in hopes it would look like she was still asleep. Once finished, Elspeth slid out of her room through the French doors leading to her balcony. It was situated on the flat roof of the open porch that ran the length of the back of the house. Meredith, or perhaps her husband when they’d had the whole house to themselves, had put a deck floor on the roof and a railing around it, turning it into a large, lovely balcony that overlooked the backyard.
Elspeth glanced to her right as she slipped out onto the balcony, relieved to find that, as expected, the curtains were drawn over the French doors off the living room. The only time Elspeth opened the curtains was at night to enjoy the moon and what stars were visible. As an immortal, the sun was something to be avoided, and curtains remained closed unless you had a UV filtering film on the windows. Elspeth didn’t have that . . . yet. She planned to get it eventually, but hadn’t got around to it yet. A good thing, since it ensured her mother and sisters wouldn’t open the curtains and spot her escaping.
Easing the French door closed, Elspeth tiptoed quietly to the balcony rail and peered down at the grass below and the edge of the back porch just visible from where she stood. Meredith had told her she loved to sit out on the back porch in the summer with iced tea and a book. But it wasn’t summer yet. It was only a few weeks into spring. Though with the way the weather had bounced between warm and cool, the plants appeared to be a bit confused and some were beginning to bud. Even the grass had been fooled into thinking winter was over and was sending out bright green shoots to mingle with the remnants of grass from last year that the snow and cold had turned brown.
Elspeth was quite sure Meredith wouldn’t be sitting out on her porch this evening, but there was a possibility that her blinds were open and she would be seen. Grimacing, Elspeth started to climb over the rail. She’d have to risk it, and really, Merry knew about the issues she had with her mother and probably wouldn’t be surprised to see her exiting the house this way to avoid dealing with her.
That thought made Elspeth smile faintly as she grasped the rail and began to lower herself toward the grass below. She was acting like a rebellious teenager rather than a dignified hundred-forty-two-year-old.
Elspeth’s legs were dangling in the air between the upper and lower balcony when she heard the telltale swish of Merry’s sliding glass door opening. She’d obviously had her curtains open and spotted her, Elspeth thought with a grimace, but continued to lower herself, only pausing when her hips were suddenly clasped in firm hands. Freezing, she peered down just as Wyatt leaned out to peer up at her.
“Good evening,” he said with amusement. “Need a hand?”
Groaning inwardly, she shook her head and quickly lowered herself until she hung from the lip of her balcony. She dangled there briefly, with her breasts directly in front of Wyatt’s face, and was about to let go and drop to the grass below the lower porch when Wyatt simply gave her a little tug, dragging her down and forward so that she slid his length to land on the porch in front of him.
“Good evening,” he repeated, his voice deep this time, with a sexy huskiness that reminded her of both their kiss last night right here on this porch, as well as the dream remnant she’d recalled in the shower. Shivering at the recollection, she bit her lip, her eyes focusing in on his full, sexy lips as they lowered toward her.
“Good evening, Ellie dear. Do you have time for tea? Or are you rushing to work?”
Elspeth and Wyatt both froze, and then he released his hold on her and smiled wryly as he stepped to the side so that she could see Merry standing in her open sliding glass door.
“Evening, Merry,” Elspeth greeted her. “No tea for me today. I’m afraid I’m running late.”
“You need a coat, dear. It’s warmer than one would expect for this time of year, but it’s cooling quickly as night approaches. Wyatt, grab her one of my jackets out of the coat closet,” Merry ordered.
Nodding, Wyatt led the way into the house and to the hall closet by the apartment door. As he sorted through the available coats, he asked, “Do you need a ride to work?”
&
nbsp; Elspeth accepted the dark, midthigh trench coat he handed her, but folded it over her arm as she glanced at him with surprise. “No. Why would I need—”
“We left your car in the parking garage across from . . . downtown the night before last,” he finished, his gaze sliding to his Gran and back. “I’m sure the mechanic has picked it up by now and will drop it off when he’s done with it, but in the meantime, you’re without a vehicle.”
“Oh.” Elspeth blinked and then asked, “Mechanic? What’s wrong with my car? And what do you mean the night before last?”
Wyatt cast a glance toward his grandmother, but then simply pulled out a black leather jacket for himself and announced, “I’ll drive you to work.”
“Wyatt parked in the spot closest to the house,” Merry told them from the living room door. “So you should be able to avoid Martine spotting you leaving. Though I’m sure she’ll notice you’re missing soon enough.”
“Yes, I’m sure she will,” Elspeth agreed solemnly. “But hopefully it won’t be for a while yet.”
Nodding, Merry smiled faintly. “Well, I’m glad you’re recovering from your flu. Have a good night, dear. And do stop in for tea when you get back in the morning.”
“I will,” Elspeth murmured, thinking that the flu must have been the cover story they were using to explain her being bed bound. They could hardly tell Meredith the truth, she thought, as Wyatt opened the front door and quickly ushered her into the entry and then out of the house.
They were both silent as they hurried to the car. In fact, neither of them spoke until they had pulled out onto the street and Wyatt said, “You’ll have to direct me. I’m not sure where the Enforcer office is.”
Elspeth glanced at him sharply, her eyes wide.