by Lynsay Sands
“Left or right?” he prodded, glancing in the rearview mirror at the house behind them.
“Right,” Elspeth said, and then cleared her throat before asking, “How long was I—?”
“We were at The Night Club two nights ago,” Wyatt said solemnly. “You’ve been sleeping nearly forty-eight hours. But Rachel said that was normal.”
“Rachel?” she asked uncertainly.
“Rachel Argeneau,” he explained. “The doctor who’s been looking after you. She’s been stopping by to check on your progress several times a day, and dropped in to let me know how you were doing afterward each time. She didn’t think your mother would keep me informed.”
“No. She probably wouldn’t have,” Elspeth admitted quietly, wondering just how much he knew or understood.
“I’m surprised they expect you to work today after everything that happened the other night,” Wyatt murmured once they’d started up the street. “Did you call Mortimer to see if you were expected in the office?”
Elspeth’s head whipped around at that. His knowing about the Enforcer House was startling enough, but his mentioning Mortimer’s name was shocking. “How do you know about the Enforcer House and Mortimer?”
“Valerian and Tybo,” he answered as he brought the SUV to a halt at a stop sign. “Which way?”
“Right. You want to head to the highway,” she said, and then asked, “You met Valerian and Tybo? What happened that night? I know I got hit by a car, but I don’t recall anything after that.”
Wyatt was silent as he made the turn, but then said, “G.G. came out and lifted the car off of you with the help of some others. I pulled you out. We got you inside and gave you blood to heal. Valerian and Tybo showed up and called in Dr. Rachel. She gave you some drugs that didn’t seem to help much at first, and then wrapped G.G.’s ribs,”
“Wrapped his ribs?” she asked with surprise. “What happened to G.G.?”
“You threw him across the kitchen at The Night Club. He hit a wall pretty hard and has a couple of cracked ribs.”
“Oh no,” Elspeth breathed with dismay, guilt rushing through her.
“Anyway, once you were through the worst of your healing, Valerian and Tybo took you home in their SUV, and Dr. Rachel drove me home in mine with Sam following behind to take her home.”
“Sam? Mortimer’s wife?” Elspeth asked. That was the only Sam she knew, so she wasn’t surprised when Wyatt nodded.
“She and Dr. Rachel were shopping when Valerian called her. Or was it Tybo?” he pondered and then shook his head. “One of them called her.”
“I see,” she said softly, but was peering at him worriedly now. He obviously knew something about what she was, but how much?
Elspeth was fretting over that when he said, “Tybo explained about immortals to me.”
“Oh,” she said weakly, and then cleared her throat and asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I wasn’t hit by the car. It was just you,” he said at once.
“No, I mean about . . . us. About what you learned? You’re not freaked out or . . . ?” She shrugged helplessly, unsure how most mortals would react to what he’d been told.
“Yeah,” he said, but she could hear a note of uncertainty in his voice, and then he sighed, and admitted, “I’m a little alarmed at the mind reading and control business though.”
“Yes. That is a bit distressing,” she murmured. Elspeth hated it when her mother or other immortals read or controlled her.
“And the drinking blood part is kind of—I mean no one likes to hear they’re little more than cattle to another group of people. That’s just—”
“You aren’t cattle to immortals,” she said with exasperation. “Any more than you would be for hemophiliacs or people who have been in accidents, need blood, and source it from blood banks.” Elspeth paused briefly, and then admitted, “It used to be different before blood banks, of course. I mean, we needed blood, and there was only one way to get it. But now that there are blood banks, a lot of immortals stopped feeding off the hoof and reverted to bagged blood as a much safer source.”
“Off the hoof?” he asked with a wince.
“Oh. Yes, sorry. That’s just . . .” She shrugged helplessly, and then went on, “Anyway, in some countries it’s even against our laws to take blood directly from a mortal except in an emergency, or . . . in certain other instances.”
“Some countries?” Wyatt queried dryly. “So it’s legal in other countries?”
Elspeth shrugged. “Every country has their own Council and their own laws. Here in North America, feeding off a mortal when it isn’t an emergency is punishable by death.”
“In case of emergency or certain other instances, you said,” he reminded her and when she nodded, he asked, “What other instances?”
Elspeth hesitated and then admitted, “As a part of love play.”
“Biting as part of love play, huh?” he asked with a small smile.
Trying not to blush, she shifted uncomfortably and muttered, “I gather partners can become overexcited and get nippy in the heat of the moment.”
“Yeah?” he asked with interest and what she suspected was amusement at her discomfort. “Do life mates bite each other?”
Elspeth stiffened. Just how much had Tybo told him? Apparently, a lot. But he couldn’t have told him that he was a possible life mate for her. Tybo didn’t know. Unless G.G. told him, she thought with concern.
“Do they?” Wyatt prodded.
“It’s not recommended between two immortals,” she said finally. “Taking another’s nanos that way causes an imbalance in both partners and means a need for more blood for both. The donor has to replenish the lost blood and rebuild the lost nanos, and in the one who takes the blood, the extra nanos use up more blood until the body can rid itself of them. They need to consume extra blood to make up for it. We all try to avoid anything that will make it necessary to consume more blood. Blood banks have enough trouble getting in the blood they need for emergencies. It’s frowned upon to waste it that way.”
“I see,” Wyatt murmured with a nod. “But what about between an immortal and their mortal lover? It’s allowed then as part of . . . love play?” Smiling suddenly, he added, “I like that term. Love play.”
Elspeth just stared at him, her cheeks heating up. Although she wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment causing it, or the images his words suddenly had sliding through her mind. An immortal and her mortal lover. Like them. Except they weren’t lovers, she told herself quickly, but then recalled their shared kiss and the images that had flashed into her mind in the shower.
“Which exit do I take?”
Elspeth glanced around to see they were approaching the entrance ramps leading to the highway and quickly directed him to the right one.
“Did you call Mortimer to see if he expected you in today?” Wyatt asked again once they’d traversed the on-ramp and merged with traffic.
“No,” Elspeth admitted wearily. “I was so busy figuring out a way to get out of the apartment without encountering Mother that I didn’t even think of it. Actually, I didn’t even think to grab my purse and phone before leaving,” she admitted now as she realized that.
“Your cell phone was destroyed when you were run over the other night,” he said solemnly. “Most everything in your purse was. We thought it was probably strewn all over the road at one point, but it turned out Sofia had collected it after we took you inside, and brought it in with her. She gave it to us as we were leaving. Most of the contents were crushed, or in pieces, including your wallet. It was pretty battered, but the contents were fine. Everything else in the purse, though, was a write-off. Actually,” he added suddenly, glancing toward her side of the car, “I think it’s all in that bag at your feet. At least, it looks like the bag Sofia handed over as we left, and I know Rachel brought it along, intending to give it to your mother.”
Leaning forward, Elspeth picked up the white garbage bag. She set it in her lap and opened the t
op to look inside. She immediately recognized her squashed and torn purse. She pulled it out, she retrieved her wallet, and looked it over. As he’d said, it was pretty battered, the metal clasp bent and twisted, but the money, driver’s license, and credit cards inside were fine.
“I wonder why she didn’t give it to your mother,” he said thoughtfully.
“Perhaps she forgot,” Elspeth said with a shrug, setting the wallet back in the bag and closing it, but keeping the bag on her lap.
“Like I forgot entering Gran’s apartment and going to bed that night?” he asked dryly, and when she glanced at him with surprise, he said, “I remember getting into the passenger seat of this SUV and Rachel getting in behind the wheel, and then I was suddenly very tired. The next thing I recall is waking up midmorning yesterday, on top of the covers of my bed in the guest room at Gran’s.”
“Rachel probably carried you in and put you to bed rather than wake you,” Elspeth said, and didn’t mention that the woman would have had to slip into his mind to make sure he didn’t wake up during the maneuver. She did wonder, though, why Rachel had done that.
Probably to avoid his being a party to whatever her mother might have said when they’d brought her and Wyatt home, Elspeth decided. Martine would have raised a ruckus, she was sure, which made her glad neither of them had been awake for it. She’d have to thank Rachel the next time she saw her for keeping Wyatt from witnessing that. And apologize to her for having to suffer it herself. Although Rachel was married to Elspeth’s cousin, Etienne, and as family she would have known what to expect from Martine. Still, she really needed to apologize to her, Elspeth thought on a sigh. But she would probably get the chance soon. Etienne was one of Marguerite’s sons, and if she knew her aunt Marguerite, the woman would have them all together for a gathering once she knew Mother and the twins were here.
Noting their surroundings, Elspeth said, “The next exit is the one we want.”
“Right.” Wyatt put the blinker on and maneuvered into the outside lane.
They had taken the off-ramp and were driving up the road leading to the street where the Enforcer House was when Wyatt suddenly announced, “Valerian and Tybo were surprised to hear about your getting stabbed.”
“I haven’t seen them since before I was stabbed and hadn’t told them. I guess Mortimer hadn’t either,” Elspeth said absently as she took note of the rural routes they were passing. “You want to take a right onto that next crossroad.”
Wyatt slowed down and put his blinker on.
“So, who tattled?” she asked as he took the turn. “You or G.G.?”
“G.G. told them while Rachel was wrapping his ribs,” Wyatt said quietly.
Elspeth winced, guilt assailing her again at the thought of her hurting the dear man. She’d always liked G.G. and wouldn’t purposely have hurt him for the world.
“I don’t think he meant to tattle. Neither of us realized it was supposed to be a secret.”
“It wasn’t,” she said at once, and then added, “I just wish I’d been able to tell them myself so they didn’t get the wrong idea. It’s not a big deal and nothing they need worry about.” Gesturing to the gated driveway ahead on their left, she added, “That’s where we’re going. Just pull up to the gate and roll down your window. One of the guys will come out.”
Wyatt slowed again, and then said, “I think you’re probably the only one who doesn’t think it was a big deal. At least, Tybo and Valerian seemed concerned about you.”
“Of course they did,” she muttered as he put on the turn signal.
“I don’t blame them. I’m worried too,” he added solemnly.
Eyebrows rising, Elspeth glanced to him with surprise as he turned into the driveway. “Why?”
“Why?” he asked with disbelief. “Are you kidding?”
“Roll down your window,” she reminded him as he drew the truck to a halt. “And no, I’m not kidding. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Of course there’s something to worry about,” he countered impatiently as he hit the button to roll down the window. “You were stabbed in the morning two days ago, and pushed under a car that same evening. I’d say that’s reason to worry.”
“Sounds worrisome to me too.”
Elspeth had been staring at Wyatt with stunned disbelief at the news that she’d been pushed into traffic that night, but now glanced past him to the man who had come out to greet them. With dark hair, and deep brown eyes with bronze flecks in them, the man was peering through the truck window, his gaze sliding from her to Wyatt with displeasure.
“Hi, Uncle Francis,” she greeted him with a forced smile. “How are you?”
“Worried about you, now,” he said dryly and then raised his eyebrows and asked, “Who is it you pissed off?”
Elspeth rolled her eyes, and then a wry smile caught her lips and she said, “The only person who comes to mind is my mother.”
“Ohhh.” Wincing, he wrinkled his nose. “She’s a scary woman, but she’s more likely to smother you to death than stab you.”
“Tell me about it,” Elspeth said on a sigh.
Francis smiled and then glanced to Wyatt with interest. “So, is this the life mate Tybo and Valerian were talking about?”
Elspeth’s eyes widened with dismay. “He—I—”
“Yes,” Wyatt said over her stammering, and when she turned on him with shock, he shrugged. “G.G. said you couldn’t read or control me. Apparently, that means we’re life mates.”
“Damn,” Elspeth breathed, suddenly feeling a little less guilty about hurting the giant while she was insensate. How could G.G. tell Wyatt that he was her life mate when he knew she wasn’t even sure she wanted one?
“Trust me, Elspeth. It is something you want. A life mate is a gift from God, and finding them is a blessing.”
Elspeth stared at Francis. He’d been sending her his thoughts. She’d heard the words, but his lips hadn’t moved. Aloud he added, “Besides, Wyatt here has some hot little thoughts about you floating around in that head of his. They’re delicious. If I were you I’d take him right up to one of the bedrooms and let him show you the benefits of having a life mate.”
“Oh, God,” Elspeth muttered and flopped back in her seat, her eyes closing.
“Isn’t she adorable? One hundred forty-one years old and she still blushes like a teenager,” Francis said with amusement, and then, in a suddenly serious tone full of warning, added, “And that should tell you something, so go slow and gentle with our little Ellie. Her mother hasn’t let her out much.”
Elspeth groaned, but refused to open her eyes or respond to the incorrigible man’s comments, until she heard his laughter fade as if he was moving away. Squinting one eye open, she saw with relief that he had and opened the other eye as well, but she refused to look at Wyatt. Family could be so embarrassing at times.
“Interesting guy, your uncle,” Wyatt commented as he steered the truck slowly forward through the first gate. “Doesn’t look anything like you.”
“He’s my uncle’s wife,” she said. “I mean his husband. Whatever, he’s my uncle by marriage.”
“Okay,” Wyatt said easily, and then paused in front of the second gate to wait, and cleared his throat before asking, “Did he say you were one hundred forty-one years old?”
“I’m not one hundred forty-one,” she informed him.
“Oh,” he breathed.
Noting his relief, she added, “I’m one hundred forty-two.”
Wyatt’s eyes widened incredulously. He swallowed and then said weakly, “Oh.”
“Wyatt, about this life mate business, I—”
“It’s all right,” he interrupted, his voice gaining strength again. “G.G. said you weren’t ready for one, that you left your mother intending to enjoy a taste of freedom.”
“Yes,” she breathed with relief.
“I understand.” Wyatt smiled at her reassuringly and then asked, “So, who is this guy?”
Elspeth turned to pee
r at the blond man who had approached the SUV and was now running a mirror on a long stick under the pickup. “That’s my uncle Russell, Uncle Francis’s husband.”
“What’s he checking for under the SUV?” Wyatt asked with a frown.
“Bombs, trackers, or rogues hanging underneath the truck. Anything that might be a problem,” she explained, smiling at her uncle when he glanced her way.
“You’re kidding,” Wyatt said with amazement. “Just what goes on out here?”
“It’s just a precaution,” she assured him as Russell finished and walked back to the gatehouse. “They’ve had some trouble in the past.”
“Right. Trouble,” Wyatt muttered, easing his foot off the brake as the second gate began to open.
“They won’t make you go through that on the way out. They only check incoming vehicles. Usually,” she added to be honest, and then told him, “Just follow the lane that curves up in front of the house.”
“Where does the other lane go?” Wyatt asked, his gaze sliding over what he could see of the buildings behind the house.
“To the dog kennels, the cells, and the garage where the Enforcers’ SUVs are,” she responded absently as she saw Valerian and Tybo coming out of the house.
“Cells? Like for prisoners?” Wyatt asked with surprise as he pulled to a halt in front of the house.
“Sure. We have to put the rogues somewhere,” she pointed out, collecting the bag holding her ruined purse and its contents. Reaching for the door, she smiled at him and offered, “Thank you for understanding. And thank you very much for driving me out here. I appreciate it. Will you be okay finding your way back home?”
“Sure. The truck has GPS,” he said easily.
“Right. Thanks again.” She pushed her door open and smiled when Tybo held it for her.
“Elspeth! Feeling better today I hope?” the hunter said, offering her a hand out.
“Yes. Thank you,” she murmured as she stepped out.
“Good, good,” Tybo said cheerfully, and then urged her to the side so that he could look inside the SUV. “Hey Wyatt! How’s it hanging?”
It seemed Wyatt had made new friends, Elspeth noted. Nodding a greeting to Valerian, she left the men talking and hurried into the house.