by Lynsay Sands
Mouth compressing, Elspeth tightened her grip on the knife, took a deep breath, and then quickly plunged it into her upper leg and promptly cursed a blue streak.
Cripes, that hurt! Like big-time hurt! Like a what-the-hell-had-she-been-thinking-doing-that-to-herself kind of pain.
"What the hell have you done?"
Elspeth glanced around sharply, her eyes widening when she found Wyatt at her side.
"What were you thinking?" he asked, bending to peer at the knife sticking out of her leg. "Good God, woman, I'm here to protect you from some mad stalker trying to kill you. I didn't realize I'd have to protect you from yourself too." Straightening, he scowled at her. "Are you a self-abuser? One of those people who cut themselves and--"
"No," she interrupted quickly, glancing anxiously toward the guest bedroom door. Grabbing his arm, she started to drag him away up the hall, but gasped in a sharp breath as pain shot through her leg with the first step. Cursing under her breath, she stopped and clung to his arm briefly as she waited for the pain to subside.
"Are you all right?" he asked with a frown.
"No," she said at once. Elspeth took a deep breath, held it briefly and then let it out as she reached down to yank the knife back out of her leg . . . and damned if it didn't hurt more than putting it in had. Another string of curses followed, and then she paused and took deep breaths again.
"Better?" Wyatt asked sympathetically when she finally reopened her eyes.
Elspeth nodded and said a little shakily, "Yes, thank you."
"Good," he said solemnly, and then snapped, "Now, would you care to tell me why the hell you stabbed yourself?"
Elspeth opened her mouth, and then snapped it closed with surprise when he suddenly knelt beside her and clasped her thigh in his hands so he could examine her wound.
"Jesus. You really got yourself good," he muttered, tugging his T-shirt out of his jeans.
"Don't--Oh, shoot," Elspeth sighed when she was too late to stop him from tearing off a strip along the bottom of the T-shirt. It was a waste of a good shirt since her bleeding would probably stop before he finished wrapping the makeshift bandage around her leg, Elspeth thought as she watched him arrange it over the wound. She groaned in pain and grabbed for his shoulder to keep her balance when he tied it off tightly with a sharp tug.
Finished with his field dressing, Wyatt straightened and growled, "Well?"
"Well, what?" she asked uncertainly.
"Why did you stab yourself?" he asked with disbelief.
"Oh, right," she muttered. Sighing, she limped several feet away, and then glanced nervously back toward the door and explained, "My mother usually has no trouble controlling me."
"Yeah, I got that from the conversation in the kitchen," he said tightly. "But you didn't seem to have a problem getting away from her the night we went to The Night Club."
"Yes. I was able to keep from being controlled then, but I was in pain at the time. My injuries were still healing and I needed blood, and my stomach was on fire, my body cramping and aching . . . I think that's why she wasn't able to control me."
"So you stabbed yourself so you could confront her without her taking control of you again," he reasoned quietly, a lot of his anger slipping away.
Elspeth nodded.
Wyatt shook his head. "There's got to be a better way, El. You can't stab yourself every time you talk to your mother."
"I know," she said on a sigh. "And I will try to come up with another way, but later."
"Another way?" he asked with a frown.
"To be in pain without stabbing myself," she explained. "This way uses up blood unnecessarily, and I know I shouldn't be wasting blood like this. But I--"
"I don't give a damn about the blood," Wyatt said with amazement. "I'll give you blood if you need it, but Elspeth, I don't want you to be in pain. There has to be a better way to deal with your mother than that."
Elspeth glanced down and ran a finger over the cloth around her wound. "Or maybe I shouldn't deal with her at all after this." When he didn't comment, she raised her head and said, "I've tried to be understanding. I know she went through a lot when my brothers died, and it's made her paranoid and overprotective. I tried to remember that when she hovered, or treated me like a child, or when I suspected she controlled me. But she stepped over the line when she removed meeting you from my mind."
"When your brothers died?" he asked quietly.
Elspeth nodded, but then waved the question away. "I'll tell you about that later. Right now I need to confront my mother."
"All right." He took a step back, but that was all.
Elspeth narrowed her eyes. "You're not going back to the kitchen, are you?"
"Hard to guard you from the kitchen," he pointed out dryly.
"Right," she muttered. "Well, do me a favor and at least wait in the hall. I didn't stab myself just so she could control you and use you against me."
Wyatt stiffened at once. "How could she use me against you?"
"In any number of ways," Elspeth assured him, and moved past him to the door. She raised her hand to knock, but then noticed the door was cracked open and simply pushed it wider instead. Knocking was requesting entrance. It wasn't a strong approach and Elspeth needed to come on as strong as she could for this confrontation. Besides, this was her home, and her mother was packing, not changing into a peignoir or something.
Actually, she wasn't even packing, Elspeth realized as the door swung open on an empty room.
Ten
"She's not here," Wyatt said quietly behind her as Elspeth walked into the empty guest room. "Neither are her clothes or her luggage."
She glanced over her shoulder to see that he was standing by the door, his gaze moving around the room, including the empty closet visible through the open bifold doors.
"She must have finished packing and headed down to the basement apartment while we were in the kitchen," Elspeth said thoughtfully.
"Doesn't seem like her. I'd have expected her to at least make us carry her luggage down," Wyatt commented, moving up beside her.
"At least," Elspeth agreed.
"She went down after your sisters joined us in the kitchen, or they would have mentioned she'd left," he pointed out.
Elspeth merely nodded, and then gasped in surprise when he scooped her up in his arms. Grabbing for his shoulders, she protested, "I can walk."
"It'll be faster if I carry you, and I need to be sure she didn't leave the door unlocked," he explained as he hurried out of the room and up the hall.
"Of course she didn't," Elspeth said calmly. "She's the one who's overprotective and . . ."
Her words died as they reached the front entry hall and saw that the door was unlocked.
"She came out and overheard the conversation in the kitchen and now knows you know," Wyatt said with certainty.
"What makes you say that?" she asked curiously, reaching out for the wall to balance herself when he set her on her feet and moved over to lock the door.
"It's the only reason she'd leave and not think to lock the door when she knows someone is trying to kill you," he reasoned.
"Maybe. Or maybe she was just using the attack as an excuse to regain control of me and doesn't really think I'm in much danger," she murmured, and when he glanced to her in question, she pointed out, "Well, whoever pushed me in front of that car couldn't have been an immortal. Any immortal would know that wouldn't kill me, so it had to have been a mortal, which means they aren't much of a threat."
"You don't consider mere mortals a threat?" he asked, his gaze narrowing as he walked back to her.
Elspeth got the distinct impression he felt insulted by the idea that she might not think him dangerous, so said honestly, "You would be. You know how to kill us. Most mortals don't though. Most don't even know we exist."
Appearing somewhat mollified, he nodded and scooped her up to carry her into the kitchen.
"Ellie!"
"Elspeth!"
"What happ
ened?"
"Nothing. I'm fine," Elspeth said quickly as Sam, Alex, and the twins rushed forward to crowd around Wyatt as he carried her to a chair.
"Do you have any bandages here?" Wyatt asked as he straightened.
"Bandages are a waste of money," Alex assured him as she retrieved a bag of blood from the refrigerator. "It will close quickly. It's already stopped bleeding."
"Thank you," Elspeth murmured as she took the bag and slapped it to her mouth.
"Mother didn't do this, did she?" Julianna asked with a frown.
"No," Wyatt answered for her. "Elspeth stabbed herself."
"What?" Alex asked with amazement. "Why would you do that?"
Elspeth rolled her eyes above the bag at her mouth and again it was Wyatt who answered.
"She was able to resist Martine's control the other night because she was in pain, so she thought if she stabbed herself . . ."
"Martine couldn't control her," Sam finished for him on a sigh, and then raised one eyebrow. "So? Did it work?"
"She wasn't there," Wyatt said quietly. "The room was empty and she and her belongings were gone."
"Really?" Julianna asked with surprise. "She hadn't come out before we came into the kitchen."
"Yeah, and she isn't likely to leave without us," Victoria said dryly. "She usually doesn't let us out of her sight for more than a couple minutes."
Elspeth shifted her gaze to Wyatt and gave him a meaningful look.
"You're thinking she overheard the conversation we were having and knows we know about her controlling you and getting between you and Wyatt," Alex said quietly.
"It makes sense," Victoria commented. "Something made her leave."
They were all silent until the bag emptied, but as Elspeth pulled it from her teeth, Julianna asked, "You don't think Dad knows what she did, do you?"
"No way," Victoria said at once. "But I do wonder what she told him about what was going on when Elspeth was missing."
"Hmm," Elspeth murmured. She wondered about that herself.
"You don't think she's the one behind the attacks, do you?" Alex asked suddenly, and when everyone turned to peer at her blankly, she said, "Well, the attacks started the night your mother got here, and they're pretty weak attempts. I mean, neither attack would have killed you. And it was the perfect excuse for her to track you and even get guards put on you so that if you escape her, she can track you through us. All she has to do now is call Mortimer to find out where you are. Right?"
Elspeth stared at her silently. The suggestion wasn't actually that crazy. If her mother would get between her and her life mate to maintain her control over her, who was to say she wouldn't feign attacks on her to regain that control? Except--"The stabbing was a mortal with a mental illness, and the tip that came in about him was two or three days old when I went to check him out. Mother and the girls weren't here two days earlier."
"Then maybe that wasn't part of it," Sam suggested. "Maybe it just gave her the idea and she arranged the second attempt to give her ammunition to convince you to return to England, where you'd be safer."
"Oh come on," Victoria said with a frown. "I know Mother is . . ." She shrugged helplessly, and then said, "But having you attacked and hurt that badly? I don't think so. There are just lines you don't cross."
"And getting between me and my life mate isn't crossing those lines?" Elspeth asked dryly, and then added, "I'm not sure she has any limits. Mother tried to make me bite Wyatt for blood at Meredith's when we had dinner there. She controlled him to get him on the porch, and then tried to make me bite him."
"What?" Julianna asked, obviously shocked.
Elspeth nodded, but then said, "Still, I don't think she was behind my being pushed into traffic. G.G. said it was a man."
"She could have controlled someone and made them push you," Sam pointed out.
Elspeth shook her head. "She wasn't there. She was back at the house with Meredith and the girls."
"With Meredith," Julianna corrected her, and then explained, "She sent Victoria and me upstairs with our chicken after you and Wyatt left, and she stayed downstairs with Meredith alone for a while."
Elspeth stiffened. "How long?"
Julianna and Victoria looked at each other and then Victoria shrugged and said, "An hour. Maybe more."
"That's long enough for her to have got downtown and back," Wyatt pointed out quietly. He took the empty bag she held, walked over to throw it out in the garbage next to the refrigerator, and then retrieved another bag of blood before returning.
"But we were inside The Night Club for a good fifteen or twenty minutes, maybe even half an hour, and I was in there alone for five or ten minutes before that," she pointed out as he walked back. "It would have taken her at least an hour and a half to get there, make someone push me, and get back. I don't think it was her."
"Okay." Wyatt nodded and held out the bag to her.
"Thank you," Elspeth murmured, taking the blood bag.
"You're welcome," Wyatt assured her and then said, "If it's not your mother then we need a pen and some paper. Do you have any?"
"In that drawer next to the sink," Elspeth told him, gesturing with the blood bag. "Why?"
"Because," he said, opening the drawer and retrieving the items. "You can write down the names of every mortal you know in Toronto while you feed on the blood."
"There's no need for a pen and pad, then," Elspeth assured him with amusement as he set both before her. "It's a short list."
"How short?" he asked.
Elspeth picked up the pen, quickly wrote three names and handed it to him.
"Wyatt, G.G., and Meredith," he read and then lowered the pad to stare at her. "That's it?"
"I've only been here six weeks," she pointed out defensively. "And most of that time I've either been unpacking, working, or visiting with your grandmother. It's not like I've been joining social clubs or visiting the bar scene or anything. Not that I would anyway."
"Why do you want to know what mortals she knows?" Sam asked curiously.
"Because if it's not Martine, then it's a mortal. As Elspeth pointed out to me earlier, an immortal would know pushing her into traffic wouldn't kill her."
"Oh!" Alex said with surprise, and then grinned and congratulated her, "Good one, Elspeth. None of the Enforcers picked up on that. Not even Mortimer."
"If you're looking for a mortal who might want to kill her, you might consider Violet and Oscar," Victoria suggested solemnly.
Elspeth's eyes widened in surprise. "You read their minds and got that they want to kill me?"
"No," Victoria wrinkled her nose. "I would never willingly put myself in his perverted mind. But while Violet seems all-right-ish, Oscar's creepy and I wouldn't put it past him to push you into traffic if you rebuffed one of his pervy advances."
"What about that woman who was originally in the downstairs apartment?" Julianna asked. "You got her arrested. Maybe she got out on bail and wants revenge."
Elspeth shook her head. "Madeleine-Nina wasn't going to be let out on bail. They said she had already proven herself a flight risk," she assured them. "As for Oscar and Violet, I'd only ever met them a couple times in passing before the night we had dinner together. Besides, Wyatt sent them both home in a taxi before we left for The Night Club, and I'm quite sure G.G. would have mentioned if the pusher was a geriatric who shuffled off like Oscar would."
"He said they ran off," Wyatt announced.
"Oh," Victoria said with disappointment.
"But you didn't list Oscar and Violet, or even Madeleine when you listed the mortals you know," Julianna pointed out. "Maybe there are other mortals you're not thinking of."
"Julianna's right." Wyatt sat down at the table next to her, drew the pad in front of him, and then picked up the pen. "So maybe we should go through this logically."
"What does that mean?" Alex asked.
"Go through it day by day," Wyatt explained, and then asked Elspeth, "You flew here, right?"
She nodded.
"Did you take a taxi from the airport to here?" he asked.
Elspeth shook her head. "I rented a car. I knew I'd need a vehicle to get around until I bought myself one."
"So you talked to someone at the car rental agency," Sam said in an ah-ha! voice.
"I did," Elspeth admitted and Wyatt scribbled car rental agent on the pad. "But it was a woman, and G.G. said a guy pushed me into traffic."
"Yeah," Wyatt agreed, and then gestured to the blood bag she still held. "Get busy with that and we'll ask yes and no questions until you're done."
Elspeth grimaced, but popped the bag to her fangs.
"Okay, the car rental person is out," Wyatt said, crossing out the entry. "So you drove the rental here, met my grandmother, got your keys, and came up to your apartment?"
Elspeth nodded.
"And then what did you do?" Wyatt asked, turning the pen in his hands.
"She went food shopping," Alex answered for her, obviously reading her thoughts now. "Write down grocery cashier, Wyatt."
"Okay," Wyatt wrote, and then raised his head and asked, "What happened next?"
"She went to bed," Alex answered for her.
"So the next day, did you do anything before going to the Enforcer House?" Wyatt asked.
Elspeth pulled the now empty bag away with relief. "Yes, I did. I went furniture shopping and met a very nice salesman. But other than cashiers and salesmen, the only other mortals I have encountered since coming here were the moving men and the wife of the mentally ill patient who stabbed me. But she's female, and no doubt still in the hospital from her husband's stabbing her, so it can't be her." She crumpled the empty bag in her hand, walked to the garbage, and tossed it in, adding, "This is a waste of time. I hardly think I managed to piss off a cashier, salesman, or even the moving men to the point that they'd start stalking me, trail me downtown, and push me into traffic."
"Probably not, but that only leaves your mother controlling someone and making them do it," Wyatt pointed out, and then frowned when she headed for the door rather than the table. "Where are you going?"