by Lisa Olsen
“For how long?”
He had me stumped. “I don’t know how long it takes, I was passed out when I turned Rob, and I have no idea how long I was out before I woke up in the morgue.” I looked to Bishop, and he just shrugged.
“This isn’t exactly my area of expertise.”
“What if she doesn’t wake up? What if she’s really gone?”
Mason was working himself up to a full blown panic attack and I figured a distraction was in order. “I think maybe you need a drink or something. Bishop, why don’t you take him into the kitchen and…”
“No, I can’t leave her,” Mason insisted. “I won’t.”
I couldn’t let him freak out when I had the means to ease his fears. “Mason, calm down and go get a drink with Bishop,” I ordered with a burst of compulsion. “I’ll sit here with her, and I’ll sing out if she wakes up.”
“Drink with Bishop,” Mason nodded woodenly, letting Bishop lead him from the room.
“You’d better not prove me a liar,” I whispered, touching the back of Hanna’s hand.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hanna felt different. Wrong. She smelled different too, though it was hard to place exactly what it was like. Not one of us, not yet. I couldn’t look at her like that, too close to a corpse for my peace of mind, and I dug out my phone, pulling up Carter’s number.
“Hey, how’s your sister?” he asked as soon as he picked up.
“I see bad news travels fast.”
“Maggie called me, she told me about the accident. I’m on my way there now.”
“To Mason’s place?”
“No, to the crash scene to see if I can pick up anything.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea, thanks. I didn’t even think of it.”
“Not all of us can be brilliant as well as sexy,” he quipped. “So she’ll be okay?”
I let out a long breath. “Yes and no. I’m, ah… I’m turning her tonight.” Part of me hated to lie to Carter, but the fewer people who knew about Hanna’s origins the better, and Carter’s mouth went off without a lot of thought process sometimes.
“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”
“It’s what she wants.” I’d given up trying to fight it. “Anyway, it’s too late now. We’re waiting for her to wake up.”
“Oh.” The silence stretched between us. “I’d better get going, I’m almost to the crash site.”
“How do you know exactly where it is?”
“I have my ways,” he answered mysteriously. “I’ll call you if I turn up anything.”
“Okay, bye.” The silence grew oppressive in the room with Hanna’s body, and I scrolled through my contacts list, pulling up Maggie. “Hey, thanks for calling Carter and letting him know about Hanna.”
“It’s no problem. How is she?” Maggie asked.
I briefly explained the circumstances that led to me having to turn Hanna, and that we were just waiting for her to wake up now. She sounded less disapproving than Carter had been.
“Let me know if I can do anything, I expect it’s pretty nerve wracking for you.”
“Now that you mention it, there was one favor I’d like to ask.”
“I’ll have her license and registration put through at once.”
“Thanks, but that wasn’t what I meant.” I took a quick calming breath. “I hate to ask you this, but we’ll need human blood to complete her transition once she wakes up.”
“We’ll be right there.” There was no hesitation in her voice, no doubt, nothing but instant support.
“Are you sure it’s okay? She won’t need much blood, but it’ll be scary when she vamps out for the first time.”
“It’s fine, Anja,” she insisted. “I know you’ll keep me safe. Lee wants to know if you need him to come too.”
“No, he can stay put if he wants to. It’s late, and we’ll be doing a lot of sitting around waiting. I’ll see him later.”
“Alright.” Maggie was silent for a moment, and I heard the rumble of Lee’s deep voice in the background. “He says to buck up, he knows it’ll all shake down the way it’s supposed to in the end.”
“Tell him thanks, I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
“Right then. We’ll see you soon.”
Only Hanna was still out by the time they got there. I made a pot of coffee for everyone, more to keep busy rather than a need for caffeine – my nerves were jittery enough as it was. Bishop, Maggie, and I sat in the living room while Mason kept watch over the body, his silhouette visible through the shoji screen walls that separated the open space into the bedroom. Tucker took Skittles for a walk, partly for the dog’s benefit, and partly for Gunnar’s peace of mind, while he kept guard downstairs.
Hanna’s first breath sounded like a sign from Heaven above in the still apartment, and we were all up like a shot to crowd around the bedroom doorway.
“She’s alive!” Mason cried, pulling her to him. “She’s okay!”
Hanna’s eyes were wide and dazed, but all things considered, she was in pretty good shape. The horrible bruising had faded, and her legs proved sturdy enough when Mason helped her out of the bed. It was truly amazing what the human body could heal under the right circumstances, and I wondered again what would happen if vampire blood were made available to hospitals or even for research. Lee was probably right though, best never to go down that road.
“I feel wonky,” she declared, clapping her hand over her mouth as soon as she spoke. “Is that my voice? God, I sound weird.”
“It’s just different. It’ll take some getting used to,” I soothed her, remembering all too well how wrong I’d felt after waking up in the morgue. “Take it easy, you’ve got until sundown before you have to take the next step.”
“You mean…” Her eyes flicked to Maggie, who stood by the door looking on.
“I volunteered as tribute,” Maggie grinned, awfully upbeat about the whole thing. Then again, she’d been around vampires more than humans for a while now, this sort of thing had to be more the norm than strange for her.
“Thanks, Mags,” Hanna smiled, her eyes welling with tears. “I promise, I won’t take too much.”
“So, any last things you want to do before you… you know?” Mason asked, guiding her gently to the couch, where she lost her balance at the last minute and crashed into the armrest.
“No, I say we move right ahead before anything interferes. I can still die at this point, right?”
“That’s right,” Bishop nodded. “If you don’t feed from a human before the next sunset, you’ll die.”
“Then let’s do this thing.”
“You’re sure you’re ready?” Mason asked, his dark eyes searching her face carefully, but she only gave him a nervous smile.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“We’re not. There are a few things we need to get ready first,” I declared, interrupting the cow eyes they were making at each other. Both Mason and Bishop stared at me stupidly, at a loss for what I meant. “Do you seriously not remember what it was like when you were turned? I don’t plan to truss her up and stick a stuffed animal in her mouth,” I muttered, giving Bishop a very direct look.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure what else to do,” he said with a guilty shrug. “It wasn’t safe to let you thrash around during the transition.”
“Why’d you stick a stuffed animal in her mouth?” Hanna wanted to know, and before I could reply with something less troubling, Mason beat me to the punch.
“Probably to muffle the screams.”
“There are going to be screams?” Hanna’s eyes widened. “You sorta left that part out, honeybunch,” she added, eyeing daggers at Mason.
“I forgot,” he winced. “Sorry, it’s been a few years.”
This was exactly why I’d wanted to make sure she was as prepared as possible before she’d made the decision, but it was too late now. “It’s going to hurt when your body goes through the change, but it’ll be over before you know it.” Okay, so tha
t was a big fat lie, but it settled her nerves.
“Right,” she said, taking in a deep breath. “I can do this. Anything else I should know about?”
“It’ll feel like you’re dying, but don’t be scared. Your heart will stop beating, but that’s okay, you don’t need it anymore.”
“Sure, of course,” she nodded, starting to look panicked again, and Mason wrapped a reassuring arm around her.
“We’ll want to make her as comfortable as possible. That means something gentle to secure her with so she doesn’t hurt herself or anyone else, a cool bath, and something for her to change into.”
“I’ll go run the bath,” Maggie offered, but Mason shook his head.
“No bathtub, just a shower.”
“Then we’ll have to make do with a shower,” I shrugged. It’d worked for Ellie. Poor Ellie… I hoped like anything that Hanna didn’t go through the same control issues the troubled girl had.
It didn’t take long at all to assemble the things I’d asked for, and then I had to do the hardest thing of all – nothing. Yes, I helped pull Hanna off of Maggie when she’d had enough blood, and yes, I healed Maggie’s throat. But then I had to sit back and let Mason take care of Hanna. Even though I wanted to be the one to hold her when she screamed, and ease her into the cool shower when her skin turned burning hot, I let him be the one to care for her. After all, he was her Sire, and no one, not even her own sister would be closer to Hanna ever again.
Bishop sat beside me in the kitchen as we listened to Hanna’s last moments as a human, and the low, murmured words that passed between them before she was reborn. Only when I was sure she’d come through the transition safely did I dare to breathe, afraid I’d miss something.
Bishop stood then, offering me a hand up. “Come on, Anja. I think it’s best if we let them have some privacy.”
“But she just woke up.”
“She’ll be fine,” he urged, taking my hands in his when I didn’t budge. “Let them be.”
I wasn’t ready to go. What if she needed me? “She’ll have questions, though.”
“And he’ll answer them. Mason’s up to the task.”
He had a point. I thought back to the first few minutes after Rob had woken as a vampire, and realized we were intruding on their private time. “I guess we should all head for home, huh?” Maggie looked tired, and Tucker had long since fallen asleep on the couch with Skittles in his lap.
“That’s my girl,” Bishop smiled, pulling me to his side. “We can check in on her tomorrow. It’s getting late.”
It wasn’t all that late, we still had a couple of hours before sunrise, but I could admit, we weren’t serving any purpose by camping out in their living room. “Wake Tucker and let’s go home,” I said softly, pulling Skittles out of his lap and setting him in his crate.
“Shouldn’t we say goodbye?” Maggie asked, shaking Tucker awake.
“I doubt they’ll even notice we’re gone.”
I probably could’ve gotten a ride home with Gunnar or Maggie, but Bishop insisted on taking me home himself. We drove home in a caravan, Bishop’s SUV, Gunnar’s Town Car, and Maggie’s Audi. In a stroke of perfect timing, Carter pulled up just as we got to the end of the street, and we hung back to meet him.
“Everything copacetic?” Carter asked, jogging over.
“She pulled through like a champ,” I replied with a tightlipped smile. “Mason’s with her now. What about you? Did you pick up anything at the crash site?”
“That’s a negative.” Carter shook his head. “There wasn’t much left but swept up glass by the time I got there.”
“I can go back and see if I can p-pick up something you missed,” Tucker offered, and Carter shot him a lopsided grin.
“You saying you can out-track me, wolf-boy?”
“With one arm tied behind m-me,” the young shifter threw back cockily.
“You two can duke it out here, I’m heading inside,” I laughed. “Come in for a drink?” I asked Bishop, and he smiled in agreement.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
We strolled up the walk, and spotted Lee sitting on the front porch in his favorite chair with his hat tipped low, the glow of his cigarette orange-red in the darkness. I lifted my hand in a friendly wave, which he didn’t return. Had he fallen asleep on the porch?
“Lee?” I called out as we approached the steps, but he didn’t give any sign that he’d heard us at all. “Ugh, he’d better not be napping with a lit cigarette in his hand,” I scowled as I climbed the steps. “I swear, he’ll burn us all down while we sleep one of these days.”
“He’s not.” Bishop came to a stop, his hand going stiff in mine. “Look at his neck.”
Even with our enhanced vision it was hard to make out, but there were dark, spidery tracks climbing up the side of his neck.
“Lee?” I knelt before him, taking off his hat in the process. His eyes stared ahead sightlessly, completely void of life. “Lee…” In my head it was a shout, but my breath failed me, barely carrying his name past my lips. He was dead and gone, as inconceivable as it seemed. His body was still warm to the touch, that damned cigarette perched between his fingers with less than a half inch of ash. Whatever had happened to him, it hadn’t been long ago.
“We have to help him,” I managed to get out, thinking it might not be too late. I tried to remember my CPR training, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. “Are you supposed to breathe into him first, or do the chest compressions?”
“It’s too late.” Bishop’s voice was calm and collected, but it didn’t soothe me, not this time.
“No, it’s not. There has to be some life left in him, he’s still warm. People have heart attacks and are brought back every day,” I insisted, trying to ignore the strange marks on his skin. “Maybe if I give him some blood…”
“I said it’s too late,” Bishop insisted, his hand landing on my shoulder. “It’s not a heart attack.” Leaning down, he pulled two darts from the front of Lee’s shirt and spread it open to reveal two wounds, mottled and dark, radiating out to the rest of his body like an angry roadmap. “Silver nitrate. He never stood a chance.” Lee was dead, really dead, and there wasn’t anything we could do about it.
I sat there in a stupor, neither the words nor the sight of the silver poisoning making any sense. “Somebody shot him with silver? Why would…”
Bishop ignored me, his gaze on the front of the property, but there was no one around besides Carter, Maggie, Gunnar, and Tucker, who’d been trailing along at a slower pace, ribbing each other good naturedly. They stopped when Bishop raised a hand. “Carter.” There seemed to be a meaning conveyed in that single word that I didn’t pick up on, but it made perfect sense to Carter.
“I’m on it,” he muttered, instantly serious, producing two guns from under his jacket. His eyes made a brief scan of the front yard before he jogged off to the side.
“What’s going on? Where is he going?”
“To check the perimeter.”
“For what?” Did he think the shooter was possibly still around?
“To see if…” A single dart hit Bishop in the chest. “Shit.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Gunnar,” Bishop barked, tearing the dart from his chest, but that was the last I saw of him as Gunnar dove on top of me in a running tackle at supernatural speeds. The air rushed out of my lungs as he crashed into me, and my head hit the porch hard, temporarily stunning me.
There were screams. Maggie for sure, and a lower cry of pain. All I could think of was what had been in the dart that struck Bishop? Was it more silver nitrate, or something worse? The only thing I’d ever seen in those tiny darts before was the ACBT the Order used, and that spelled near instant death. All of a sudden, I needed to see him, I needed to know if he was alright. But Gunnar had me pinned down, using his leverage to keep me on the ground, and I couldn’t draw in the breath to yell at him to get off of me.
There was an exchange of gunfire, and I heard
Bishop yell out, “Get her inside!”
In that instant, all I could do was think, he’s okay! Or at least still alive, and that had to count for something. I pushed at Gunnar’s shoulders, sucking in enough air to wheeze out, “Get off…” But Gunnar didn’t move. He didn’t speak, he didn’t do anything, until I felt a lessening of his hold on me. I pushed harder, and his head flopped above mine, his face mute with agony as he stared down at me, his eyes filling with blood.
“No!” I whispered, dread seizing hold of my limbs at the familiar sight, but there was nothing I could do.
“Tell… Isak…” he wheezed, but that was all he got out. As I watched, Gunnar dissolved in front of me, the ACBT spreading through his system like wildfire.
“No!” I yelled louder, barely able to scramble out from under him as his body turned to ash. “Gunnar!” I sobbed, but he was gone.
More gunfire erupted, and I looked up to see Maggie screaming on the other side of the porch, pinned down behind the dubious shelter of the railing. Tucker had wolfed out and stood beside her protectively, the side of his muzzle keeping her down.
“Inside!” Bishop hissed, and I tracked him crouching behind a low hedge, guns drawn.
I gave him a short nod, and when he started shooting, I ran for the front door, but not before I grabbed Maggie under the arms and dragged her inside with me. Once we were safely inside the house, Tucker bounded off, in the direction of the gunfire. “Bishop!” I called out, getting as close to the door as I dared. Why hadn’t he made a run for it after us?
“Tucker, where’s Tucker?” Maggie wailed as soon as she realized we were alone in the house, and I had to catch hold of her before she ran out after him.
“He’s out there keeping you safe,” I said, stroking her hair as soothingly as I could, but my hands shook. I wanted to run out there myself and drag Bishop in too, but all we could do was wait and try to listen over the sounds of our ragged breathing. It’d gone awfully quiet out there, and I didn’t know if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.
A crashing sound at the back door made us both jump, and I motioned for her to stay down as I crept toward the rear entrance. The moon revealed a shadow on the back porch, big and man shaped, a great target if I’d been armed, but my shiny new gun was down in my bedroom, where I hadn’t moved it since Christmas. Sure, I could go down and get it, but I didn’t want to leave Maggie alone, even for an instant.