"I'm not a wimp." He tried to stand up again, and his legs just didn't seem to care. He didn't like being called a wimp, but was disproving it really worth the effort of walking? No, no, not really. He was pretty sure it wasn't.
"Damn, you're incredibly difficult. You know that, right? Challenging your manliness doesn't get you going, so let's go back to the sex thing. You know what sex is, right? Making love. Orgasms. Me naked. You naked. But only if you get in the truck, you big oaf. If you die, you'll never have a chance to have sex with me, and I'm really good at it, so you'll be majorly missing out."
Naked. Jordyn naked. An image flashed into his mind of her breasts. Perky nipples. Rounded hips leading down to... What was left of his blood shot straight to his groin, and he was suddenly a hell of a lot more conscious than he had been a moment before. "Okay." He closed his eyes and concentrated really hard. One step. Then another. Then one more. "Yeah, check this out. I'm awesome." He kept his face in Jordyn's hair, his eyes closed as he let her direct him. Then, finally, weirdly, he was in the truck. He sank into the leather seat, slumping down as Jordyn climbed in beside him.
Yeah, he did it. He was the man. "Naked," he mumbled. "You promised."
"I know. Later."
"Okay." Later sounded good. Right now, he just needed to sleep. He closed his eyes as the truck roared to life, but he was still cold. So cold. "Jordyn."
"Just hang in there," she said. "We'll get you help soon."
"Where's your hand?"
"What?" The truck lurched forward, and he slid lower on the seat, unable to hold himself up.
"Your hand." His eyelids were too heavy to keep open, and the coldness was crawling down his limbs. "I want it."
"Why?" But even as she asked, he felt her hand on his. He immediately slid his fingers between hers, entangling them together.
"Warm," he slurred. "Nice."
The smile was still on his face as he faded into unconsciousness.
***
"Still alive?" David raced up to the truck as she slammed on the brakes in his front yard.
"I think so. God, I hope so." She was trembling as David opened the passenger door.
He whistled softly as he took in Eric slumped almost on the floor of the vehicle, literally covered in blood. "Damn," he said. "I knew this was coming. Let's go."
She grabbed Eric under the shoulders, but he didn't respond as she angled him toward the door. She helped David get him upright, and then David squatted down and hauled Eric across his shoulders. He stood up easily, not even flinching at the effort of lifting a well-muscled man. She frowned as she grabbed her bag and hurried after him.
When they were kids, David had been about as strong as she was. A nerd with a heart of gold. And now he was slinging Eric over his shoulders as if he weighed nothing?
"I can feel his heart thudding against my back," David said as he broke into a jog. "He's still alive."
"Oh, thank God." All thoughts of David's strength fled as she raced across the yard after them. She followed them through the front door, just barely getting indoors in time to see David disappear down the basement stairs. She ran after them, her feet thudding on the steps as she went down into the dimly lit space.
Dammit. She didn't like basements. The old familiar fears crept over her, and she instinctively looked around as she hurried down the steps. The cement walls were cracked, and the small windows were so covered in grime that they were completely opaque. The only lights were a few barren light bulbs jammed into sockets in the ceiling. "This is where you work now? Seriously?"
"Don't judge," David said mildly. "I'm always full of surprises." He kicked open a broken wooden door at the back of the basement, and strode inside.
Glancing over her shoulder to make sure nothing was following her, she hurried after them, then grinned with relief as she walked into the room and saw David setting Eric down on a hospital bed. The room was pristine and immaculate. There were gleaming white cabinets, a glistening stainless steel sink, and a beautiful wooden worktable that was laden with an assortment of herbs and plants, along with several pots of dirt. On the wall above the table were shelves filled with hundreds of small glass bottles filled with assorted powders and liquids. "Wow, you have even more than you used to."
"A lot of shit's been going down here lately," he grunted as he unpeeled Eric from around his neck. "I've been busy."
Eric groaned and suddenly grabbed David, his fingers digging into his throat. David grimaced and grabbed Eric's wrist. "Get your boyfriend off me, because he's in no shape for me to hurt him right now."
Jordyn hurried across the room and grasped Eric's arm. "Eric! Stop it! He's trying to help you!"
Eric muttered something that sounded like her name and naked, and then he collapsed again, apparently unconscious.
"Good." David sprinted over to the table, and swept up a pile of herbs. "I'm glad you called on your way. The heads up gave me time to get ready." He hurried over to the bed, and started packing the plants into Eric's wound, muttering words that Jordyn recognized from her childhood.
"You're not going to stitch him up?"
"Not for this," David said. "That's not what's going to save his life. This is." He held his hands over Eric's neck, and closed his eyes, his lips moving in a silent chant.
Jordyn scooted closer and leaned her head next to David's, joining him in his chant, repeating the words she'd heard him say so many times when they were kids. For a long moment, nothing happened. "David?"
"I know. Keep it up." His voice was calm, but she sensed the urgency beneath his mellow demeanor as he grabbed another pile of herbs from the table. "This might kill him," he said. "I didn't want to have to use it."
Jordyn tensed. "I don't want him to die."
"Death is better than his fate if I don't get this managed." He rubbed the dried plants between his palms, and the crumbled remains fell into the gaping wound on Eric's neck. He started chanting again, this time words she didn't know. As he did it, smoke began to rise from Eric's neck.
Jordyn became alarmed at the idea of Eric's skin catching fire. "Um, David? Is that supposed to happen?"
He ignored her, and his chant became even faster, building speed as he sprinkled more herbs onto Eric's ravaged throat. Then, she saw a spark on Eric's neck. Then another, then suddenly a, black flame erupted from his flesh. She jumped back, her heart thundering as the flames stretched up higher and higher, pure black fire. "David?"
David didn't move, his hands now consumed by the fire, as he continued to chant.
Eric shifted and groaned, and David jerked his finger toward Eric, without breaking the rhythm of his chant. "Manage him," he snapped.
"I got it." She lunged for Eric, scooted onto the bed next to him, and then pulled his upper body onto her lap. "Don't move," she ordered him. "Stay still." She couldn't imagine how much it must hurt to have flames eating away at his flesh. He twisted again, trying to get away even in his unconscious state. She bent her head so that her mouth was next to his ear. "Eric," she whispered. "Think about me naked. Think about making love. Think about—" She glanced toward David, embarrassed to be caught in dirty talk, but his eyes were closed, and he was clearly in the throes of his healing magic.
She returned her attention to Eric, resting her palm on his forehead. He was still groaning and moving, trying to get away from the flames.
"Hold him still," David shouted. "He can't move!" The flames were stretching almost three feet in the air, a raging violent purple and black. His entire neck and throat were engulfed. The scent of burning flesh seared her nose. His skin was shriveling into a charred wasteland.
Bile churned in her stomach, and for a split second, she was tempted to shove David back and make him stop. But David was the one man in this world who she truly trusted. If he betrayed her, she would have nothing left to rely on. "David?"
He didn't answer, his face contorted with focus as flames enveloped his hands.
Eric shouted suddenly, jerking her
attention back to him. She looked down at his face, and as she did, his eyes opened. For a split second, she saw full awareness in his brown eyes, then he smiled. "You promised," he said, his voice gritty.
"I know." Heat flushed her body, knowing exactly what he was talking about. She hadn't really intended to get naked with him. She'd just wanted to penetrate his mind and get him mobile. Of course, now wasn't the time to tell him that.
Pain flashed across his face, and he grimaced, twisting back against the bed. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. "I'm going to beat your friend up when this is over. He's having way too much fun with it."
And that's when she knew it was going to be okay. Eric wasn't fighting David. He trusted him, and he was already more conscious. Relief eased the tension in her muscles, and she managed a smile as Eric's grip on her hand tightened. Then there was the sound of a small explosion from the region of his injury. His entire body went rigid, and he swore under his breath.
Jordyn gripped his hand, and then noticed that the black flames were now intermixed with streaks of orange. She suddenly realized what David was doing. It was the same thing he'd done as a kid when they'd found all the dying ants that had been poisoned. He'd hit them with the fire, using it to burn off the poison that was trying to consume him. "The orange is good," she told Eric. "It means the evil is being cleansed. When the flames are all orange, there's nothing evil left."
"Evil is such a melodramatic word," he gritted out. "That piece of shit bit me. Let's call it cooties."
Jordyn almost laughed, and she heard David snort. "You're fighting death," she pointed out. "Focus."
"I am focused." His eyes were closed again, his body stiff. "Trust me, I'm focused." She heard the steely edge to his voice, and saw the sheer hardness of his muscles, every single one of them tensed to the limit, and she knew he was telling the truth.
The orange bits vanished from the fire, and suddenly it was full of purple and brown streaks.
David swore. "He needs to relax," he shouted. "He's too tense. I can't break him free if he doesn't let me in."
Jordyn bent over him. "Eric—"
"I heard him." His jaw was rigid. "A little fucking difficult to relax right now."
"You have to," David snapped. "Now!"
Eric opened his eyes. "Kiss me."
"What? Now?"
"Yeah. Please." There was a desperate edge to his voice, and her heart tightened. "I need a distraction. A big one. Now."
"Dear God, Eric. You're insatiable. Really?"
He didn't answer. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his back arched as a he sucked in his breath.
"Kiss him, Jordyn! It's a guy thing! Just do it!" David shouted.
"Okay, fine!" As she spoke, she leaned forward until her mouth was hovering over his, but she felt so foolish, about to kiss a guy who was on fire. Then she looked at him more closely. His lips were pressed tightly together, his cheeks were sunken, and gray circles haunted beneath his eyes. His face was pale, almost as pale as the vampire's had been. She realized he was dying, truly dying, and the last thing he'd asked for was her kiss.
Her heart tightened and tears filled her eyes. "I'm here," she whispered, before she lowered her head and pressed her lips to his.
Chapter 10
Jordyn's kiss was like an anchor, dragging Eric back from the darkness trying to suck him down. The moment her lips touched his, his entire being surged toward her, desperate for her touch. Instinctively, he slid his hand through her hair and palmed the back of her head, trapping her against him, while he used his right arm to create a shield between the flames and her face. The fire was scorching his skin, but he barely felt it. The sheer power of her kiss dominated his senses so much that she stripped away everything from his consciousness…everything except her.
He'd made a smart remark about evil, but he'd been completely lying with his cavalier attitude. He knew damn well what he was facing. He could feel the evil coursing through every cell in his body, streaking through him like a poison, trying to take hold and claim him. David's fire was having a party, incinerating healthy cells and poisoned ones alike, burning through Eric's living flesh to eat up the poison before it could claim him. David's rhythmic chants were so loud in his head that his brain was screaming in pain. Everything hurt like hell, but he could tell the evil was winning, eating away at his life force with insurmountable speed.
He was losing the battle.
"Eric?" Jordyn touched his face, drawing his attention away from the battle raging in his body, and back to her.
He blinked, staring blankly into her eyes for a split second, while he tried to process what she was asking. His gaze slid to her mouth, and he realized he'd stopped kissing her. As redemptive as her kiss was, it hadn't been sufficient to distract him from the agony screaming through his body.
"He's got to relax," David shouted. "Now!"
Jordyn tensed beside him, and Eric realized he was rigid, his entire body screaming with suffering. Shit. He'd never experienced anything like the sheer power of the two forces battling within him, and he knew the good guy was losing. "I need light," he gritted out. "Yours." He didn't mean light. He meant her spirit. Something good. He didn't even know what he was trying to say. He just needed her to ground him.
"I'm not light," she muttered, but even as she protested, she kissed him again.
This time, he focused his entire being on the kiss, doing everything he could to shut out the agonizing pain in his neck, and the smell of burning flesh. He concentrated on the softness of her lips against his, a caress so innocently seductive that it was surreal. He was accustomed to bruising, passionate kisses that were about lust and uncontained need. He wasn't used to a kiss that was so gentle and soft that it made his entire body go utterly still in anticipation, vibrating with the need for what came next.
She kissed him again, her lips lightly nibbling against his. It might be a soft kiss, but it wasn't chaste, not one bit. Her kiss was a tentative exploration of sensation, and warmth. It was a kiss that promised a slow, hot night of sensual loving in the humidity of a southern bayou. He could almost envision the golden glow of moonlight over her bare flesh. He could almost taste the trickle of sweat between her breasts as he ran his fingers across her collarbones. He could almost feel the heavy thickness of the air wrapping them in a blanket of damp heat as he slid slowly inside her.
The frenzied energy of his body slowed down, attuning itself to the slow seduction of her kiss and the images in his mind of a lovemaking so erotic that it would take hours. He went still, his heart moving in a slow, languorous rhythm as it succumbed to the soft, persuasive kisses of her seduction.
His fingers relaxing in her hair, he became aware of the silkiness of the strands tangled around his fingers. He was a visual guy, all about what he was seeing, but with his eyes closed, he suddenly became viscerally aware of how she felt. Her hair was so smooth, tendrils of pure tactile decadence. The faintest fragrance of something light and summery teased him, as if she'd woven fresh flowers into her soul. And her mouth...his cock tightened when she lightly ran her tongue over his lips, a wet, hot whisper of all that could be between them. She made a small noise in the back of her throat, a sound that made his own body react.
With a low groan, he pulled her tighter, deepening the kiss. His need for more was insatiable, but it wasn't just a craving for sex. It was for her. For her kiss. For her touch. For the sounds of desire that slipped from her lips as he deepened the kiss. This was so much more than the lustful attraction that had been building between them since the first moment he'd seen her. This was exponentially more powerful, and infinitely more personal. It was not about a kiss between a man and a woman. It was a kiss between him and this woman.
"Jordyn," he whispered, needing to say her name, to hear proof that it was Jordyn who was in his arms, that it was Jordyn who tasted of sun-warmed beaches and ocean breezes. Her mouth parted for him, and he slid his tongue past her teeth. She accepted him completely, tangling her t
ongue against his, a searing hot invitation that rocked him to his core. Her breast was pressed against his arm, a curvaceous temptation that was incredible. He lost track of the fire, of the chanting, and of the pain, until all that remained was Jordyn.
It was simply a kiss. Not sex. No bare flesh. No screaming throes of passion. And yet it seemed to consume him, swallowing up his entire existence until all he could feel was her. He wanted more, but at the same time, the kiss was so exquisite that it was sheer perfection itself.
"Done." David's voice was filled with relief, and his interjection broke through the veil of protection that Jordyn's kiss had given him.
Jordyn pulled back, and for a split second, they simply stared at each other. Her blue eyes were wide, her lips flushed from the kiss. Then her gaze went to his neck, and she paled. "Oh, God."
The moment she said it, the pain came surging back over him. He sucked in his breath, startled by how vicious it was. His throat felt like it had been torn out, and his flesh burned like it was still on fire. But more than that was the sense of weakness and numbness stealing over his body, sucking the very life from his bones. Son of a bitch. He was suddenly flooded with the images of the vampire attack, of Cicatrice, of Tristan out there somewhere. It was night. It was dark. Who knew when the next one would come? Who would protect Jordyn? He had to be ready. He had to be prepared to fight, to save her, to protect her.
Instinct took over, and he tried to sit up, but David was suddenly beside Jordyn, his beefy arm across Eric's chest as he pushed him back down. "No," David said. "Don't move. Just lie there."
Eric gritted his jaw, pausing for a moment as sudden weakness flooded his body. "Back off," he gritted out. "I'm getting up." There was no way he was going to lie in bed when vampires were out hunting, and Jordyn was unprotected.
"Eric!" Jordyn bent over him, cutting off his view of David. "The fire's gone," she said urgently. "Your skin isn't black anymore. You're okay, but you still need to heal. Just a few hours, and then you'll be good—"
Not Quite Dead (A NightHunter Novel) Page 12