by Lynsay Sands
Opening the door, Mary was relieved to see that it was indeed a bathroom. She'd figured a bedroom wouldn't have two exits, but one never knew. Especially since she had no idea where she was. She wheeled the stand into the room with her and positioned it between the toilet and the counter holding the sink and then hiked up her nightgown and sat on the toilet.
It was while she was sitting there that the first shaft of agony struck. Mary gasped in pained surprise, and immediately grabbed her head, trying to keep it from blowing apart. However, the pain eased and waned just as quickly as it had struck, leaving her breathing cautiously in and out as she waited warily to see if it would strike again. After a little time had passed without a recurrence, she let out her breath slowly and reached for the toilet paper.
It wasn't until she stood and moved to wash her hands that Mary even glanced to the mirror, and then she froze, the room spinning around her as she stared at her forehead. There was a large, ugly scar cutting across the top of her head, from her forehead back and the top of her head around it was slightly misshapen, like it had been caved in but was pushing its way back out.
Mary grabbed for the counter to steady herself, then screamed and grabbed for her head as another shaft of pain crashed through her skull, sending her to her knees. She thought she heard someone shout her name, but she was already losing consciousness.
The next time Mary woke up, the IV was gone and there was a warm body in front of her as well as one at her back. Opening her eyes, she peered at the furry body she had her arm around.
Bailey.
She was back from the vet, Mary thought, and smiled, her arm tightening slightly around the dog.
Bailey immediately turned her head and tipped it back slightly to look at her and Mary gave her another squeeze, whispering, "Hello, sweetie. It's okay. Go back to sleep."
The German shepherd laid her head back down with the little huff of sound that she usually made when she was content, and Mary lifted her head slightly to glance to the rather large arm that was wrapped around her from behind.
Dante, she thought. At least she hoped it was. Otherwise, she and Bailey were in the wrong place.
"Mary?"
She stilled at that whisper, then turned her own head and tilted it back to look at the handsome man presently wrapped around her.
Dante smiled and bent to press a kiss to her nose, then asked solemnly, "How is your head?"
Mary stiffened, her smile freezing, and then she sat abruptly upright, knocking his arm away and nearly sending Bailey tumbling to the floor as she grabbed her head and began to feel it. It felt fine. Normal, she thought with relief, but--
Climbing out of the blankets and over Bailey, she stumbled to the door next to the bed and into the bathroom to see if it truly was all right. Mary's breath left her on a sigh of relief when she saw that her head was back to normal. Even the scar was gone, she noted, parting her hair to get a look at her scalp. There wasn't even a thin line to show where the injury had been.
"It is all healed," Dante said gently. "At least on the outside."
Mary turned to glance at him and started to nod, but paused when she saw that he was naked. Again.
"Honestly, do you have an allergy to clothes or something?" she asked with exasperation. "Every time I turn around you're naked."
Dante's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to respond, then gasped in surprise when she suddenly leapt at him . . . literally. She jumped him like a monkey, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips as she covered his mouth with hers.
Dante chuckled into her mouth and caught her under the bottom to keep her from slipping before he turned and set her on the bathroom counter. Breaking their kiss then, he nuzzled her ear and murmured, "I think you like me naked."
"I do," Mary admitted huskily, pressing kisses to his shoulder as he nibbled at her ear. "You should always be naked."
"Always?" he asked, tugging her nightgown off one shoulder.
"Always," she assured him, pulling back to run her hands over his chest as he tried to bare hers. "Thank you for getting Bailey back."
"She is a good dog, and you love her. I would not leave her behind," he assured her solemnly, and then giving up on getting her nightgown down, he simply bent and closed his mouth over one nipple through the cloth.
Mary moaned as the cloth grew wet and his tongue moved it across her immediately erect nipple.
"How long was I out this time?" she asked on a gasp, arching her back.
Dante reached down to begin pushing her nightgown up her legs before answering. "Two days."
"Two?" Mary muttered, lifting one butt cheek off the counter and then the other so that he could get the nightgown out from under her.
"You took a very serious head wound," he said solemnly, and dropped her nightgown to cup her face between his hands. "You must never allow yourself to be so harmed again. I thought my heart would stop when I found you after the van crashed."
Dante leaned down to kiss her gently and Mary sighed against his lips. "I'm sorry. It was my fault. I accidentally broke Bert's neck when Ernie went for the dart gun."
"Bert?" he asked with confusion. "One of the men was Ernie, but the other was Bob, not Bert."
Mary smiled crookedly. "I didn't know his name so I gave him a nickname."
"Ah." He nodded. "Bert and Ernie are dead."
"Both of them?" she asked with surprise, and then grimaced. She'd seen her own head wound. Surely it would have killed a mortal? Why would she think Ernie would have made out any better?
"Yes, both are dead," he said quietly, then raised his eyebrows and said, "You broke Ernie's neck?"
"No, Bert's," Mary corrected. "Couldn't you tell when you saw the bodies?"
"There was not much to see," he said solemnly. "The van exploded on impact. If you had not flown out the windshield and into the post, you too would now be dead. Immortals are highly flammable."
Her eyebrows lifted at this news, and then she bit her lip and asked, "And Tomasso?"
His shoulders drooped and he shook his head silently. "Lucian has people looking in Venezuela, but nothing yet."
Mary sighed and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
"No, I am the one who is sorry. I promised to keep you safe and failed you. Twice. You have nothing to be sorry for," he assured her quietly.
"Yes, I do," Mary said unhappily. "I killed Bert, which led to Ernie dying too. And you needed one of them alive to find out where Tomasso is." Raising her head, she added quickly, "I was only trying to make them stop. It was all a trap. They were leading you to a warehouse about a block away from the crash, or maybe a half a block by that time. There were two men waiting there." Mary paused and then muttered with frustration, "They said their names, but I can't remember. I think one was Jack or something."
"You took a lot of trauma to the head," Dante said soothingly. "The nanos are probably still making repairs. Your memory may be shaky for a while until the repairs are finished."
"Right." She took a deep breath and then continued, "Anyway, they set it up for you to follow. Once at the warehouse, there were men waiting to shoot you and Russell and Francis with darts, and then we were all going to be shipped to wherever with Tomasso."
"Tomasso was there at this warehouse?" he asked sharply.
"I'm not sure, but I think so," she said unhappily. "I was going to tell you what I'd heard once I forced them to stop the van. I thought maybe we could drive in, in the van. They wouldn't have been expecting that. But then dumb Ernie ignored my warning and went for the dart gun. I tried to grab him and broke Bert's neck and we crashed."
Sighing, she dropped her head to his shoulder again. "I'm sorry, Dante. I messed up. It's all my fault."
"No," he said firmly, wrapping his arms around her. "It is not. If you had not done what you did, we might all now be in the same position Tomasso is in. Instead, we are alive and safe and able to help look for him."
Mary tho
ught it was sweet of him to try to soothe her conscience, but she still felt guilty. Relaxing against him, she closed her eyes, then glanced up with surprise when Dante pulled back. But he merely scooped her up in his arms and carried her back out to the bedroom.
Bailey was still lying on the bed and Mary frowned with concern as she noticed the cast on her leg.
"She is fine," Dante said softly. "She has had her pain killers and the cast barely slows her down. She is not even limping anymore."
"Oh," Mary murmured as he carried her around the bed and set her down next to Bailey.
Dante quickly covered her with the sheets and blankets she'd tossed aside just moments ago, and then straightened and turned to open the cabinet door of the table on his side of the bed. Curious, Mary watched as he bent to retrieve something, her eyes widening when he turned to set two bags of blood on the bed.
Catching her surprise, he smiled and said, "It is a hidden fridge. Mortimer," he paused to explained, "He's the head of the rogue hunters. He had them custom-made. Now everyone wants them for their homes," he added with amusement as he retrieved two more bags to set next to the others. He closed the door as he straightened, then scooped up the four bags and set them down right next to her before leaning forward to kiss her on the forehead. "I have to go tell Lucian what you told me. He will want to send someone to search the warehouses in the area and see if there is any information that might be of use." He straightened, and then asked, "Is there anything you want me to bring you when I return? Something to eat or drink?"
Mary hesitated, but then aware that he wanted to leave, just shook her head. "Maybe later."
Nodding, he bent to kiss her again, then leaned past her to give Bailey an affectionate pet before straightening and crossing the room.
"Feed," Dante said firmly as he opened the second door in the room to reveal a hall beyond. Glancing back he added, "I want all four bags empty when I come back." Then he slipped from the room and pulled the door closed behind him.
Mary picked up one of the bags, but then just stared at it. She had no idea how to make her fangs come out. Before this, they'd just popped out whenever she was hungry. She hadn't had to--
The thought died as she felt a shifting in her mouth. Mary waited, and then ran her tongue cautiously along her teeth until it rubbed up against a fang. Well, that was handy. But then she was hungry, although she hadn't realized it until she'd actually picked up the bag. Or, perhaps, it was better to say she hadn't been able to identify what she was hungry for until then. Although, Mary thought, she wouldn't mind food either, just then. However, she didn't have any, so she simply opened her mouth and popped the bag toward it, relieved when it landed correctly and remained in place.
Keeping her hand in place on the bag to support it, Mary glanced to Bailey then. The dog appeared to be asleep. She suspected it might have something to do with the pain pills Dante had mentioned. On the other hand, Bailey slept a lot. Most dogs seemed to. They'd run around like crazy chasing balls, animals and anything else that caught their attention, and then would drop and sleep for a while before getting up to do it again.
It was a tough life, Mary thought with amusement and glanced to the bag to judge how much more blood there was in it. It was going down pretty quick, and didn't bother her as much as it had at first. She didn't exactly like the feel of cold fluid moving up her teeth, and she wasn't pleased to have to actually consume blood, but at least she didn't have to actually drink it cold from a cup or something. That would have been disgusting. This way she didn't have to taste it or anything.
The moment the first bag emptied, Mary tore it off and slapped on another, eager to get the chore over with. It seemed to take forever, although she knew that was probably because she was waiting through it with nothing to distract her. Still, she was surprised when she finished the next two bags and Dante hadn't yet returned.
Tearing the last bag from her mouth, she scooped up all four of the empty bags, crawled off the bed and took them into the bathroom to throw them in the small garbage can there. Mary then went right back to the bed.
Her getting up had apparently disturbed Bailey and the dog had raised her head to watch for her return. Mary smiled at the shepherd as she climbed back into bed, and then settled back onto her side and ran a hand down her side.
"We're a pair, huh?" she asked softly, petting her. When Bailey just closed her eyes on a little huff of sound, Mary stopped petting her and instead curled her arm around her, careful not to get anywhere near her broken back leg. She then closed her eyes, surprisingly sleepy again. She never heard the door open when Dante returned.
"I hear Mary woke up."
Dante turned from watching Bailey sniffing her way around the yard and smiled when he saw Russell approaching.
"Si," he said, before turning back to continue watching Bailey. Mary had been asleep by the time he'd finished talking to Lucian and returned to the bedroom. He'd lain down with her for a while, but hadn't been able to sleep. Instead, he'd simply lain there, his mind racing.
He'd worried about Tomasso, wondered where he was, and hoped that the men Lucian sent to look for the warehouse Mary had mentioned found it and got some information that might help them find Tomasso. When those worries had proven useless and raised his stress level and concern for his brother, Dante had then turned his thoughts to Mary and the future he planned to have with her. He wasn't sure how long he'd been doing that when Bailey had got off the bed and pawed the door, letting him know she needed to go outside.
Leaving Mary sleeping, he'd immediately got up to bring the dog out. She was a fine animal: good-natured and well behaved. Mary had done a fine job with her.
"How is her head?" Russell asked, pausing beside him and turning to watch Bailey as well.
"It is back to its proper shape," Dante said with a frown. Nothing in his life had terrified him as much as seeing Mary with the top of her head caved in. It was not a moment he would ever want to relive.
"Any pain?" Russell asked.
Dante's mouth tightened. "The first time she woke up, yes, but not the second. However, she was not long awake."
"I am sorry to say it, but she might yet have headaches then," Russell murmured.
"Si." Dante sighed the word unhappily. "And you are no sorrier to say it than I to think it. After the explosion and turning and now this accident, she has suffered enough." He shook his head. "I should have accompanied her to the ladies' room."
Russell shrugged. "Hindsight is twenty-twenty, my friend. None of this is your fault."
Dante didn't agree, but merely changed the subject. "Where is Francis?"
"At the gate," Russell glanced back the way he'd come. "He asked me to come check on Mary for him." He turned back and smiled at Dante. "He likes her. So do I."
"I always knew you were both intelligent men," Dante said solemnly and Russell laughed. Smiling faintly, himself, he asked, "So you are back on the gate. Does this mean Francis is done with wanting to become a hunter?"
"Oh, hell no," Russell said dryly. "He was all ready to rush right down to Venezuela to hunt down the bastard behind those men who fried in the van. It took a lot of talking to convince him to wait until he has had some more training."
"Has he not already had training?" Dante asked with surprise.
Russell grimaced and nodded reluctantly. "Yes, but--"
"But you have convinced him he needs more because you do not wish him anywhere near danger. You do not wish to lose him," Dante suggested sympathetically.
Russell ran a weary hand through his short fair hair and nodded. "I waited a millennia for him, and while I did not recognize that he was my life mate immediately on encountering him, once I did . . ." He shrugged. "I could not bear to lose him now, Dante. I could not go back to the lonely existence I was living before him, especially now that I know what I would be missing." He paused and shook his head. "I do not know how Lucian bore it all those millennia after losing his first life mate in the fall. I could not d
o it were I to lose Francis."
Dante nodded, understanding completely. He already felt the same way about Mary.
They were both silent for a minute, and then Russell cleared his throat and said, "The reason Francis wanted me to check on Mary was because, as he reminded me, we never did get to that shopping trip, and he would still very much like to help her shop."
Dante glanced at him with surprise. "He wanted you to ask that for him?"
"Francis has issues with rejection," Russell said quietly. "His family turned their back on him when they realized he preferred men to women." He smiled wryly and added, "In a way, he was more alone than I when we met. I, at least, had my family."
Dante nodded. "I am sure Mary would enjoy his company when we shop. But . . ." He hesitated, not wanting to offend either man.
In the end, he didn't have to figure out a way to word his request. Russell grinned and suggested, "But you want to ensure he dresses her like Barbie and not Stripper Barbie?"
Dante nodded with relief, and then grinned and said, "Not that I would mind one or two Stripper Barbie outfits for at home."
"But the majority of the clothes should probably be more Next-Door-Neighbor Barbie," Russell said with amusement. "I understand completely and shall pass that along."
"Thank you," Dante said with a smile.
"Give us a shout when she wakes up and wants to go. I shall talk to Mortimer about arranging someone to take over the gate."
"There will probably be no need," Dante said, glancing toward the house and the window of the bedroom Mary inhabited. "I suspect she will sleep through the night. We probably will not shop until tomorrow afternoon."
"Just call then and we'll come," Russell said and slapped his shoulder before turning to head back around to the front of the house.
Dante watched him go, and then turned to see Bailey walking back toward him, her duty done. He squinted his eyes and watched her legs carefully as she walked. She was not yet used to the somewhat clunky cast, and it slowed her down a little, but as he had said to Mary, she wasn't limping at all.