“Sleep,” he whispered and backed out of the room. She watched him, blinking slowly as he retreated. She was asleep before he closed the door.
* * *
“So, where is Grace now?”
Natalie winced as she focused on her laptop, the scenery flashing past her as Lucien drove back down to the desert. The sun was setting and the hills and valleys were bathed in golds, crimsons, blues and indigos. She had convinced Lucien to detour into the desert on the way home.
“She’s back at the bunker.” She answered Courtney’s question, glancing briefly over her shoulder. Courtney folded her arms and pouted.
“I liked her,” she said in a sulky tone.
“What’s going on?” Lucien asked, checking the rearview mirror.
“Courtney is going to miss having Grace around,” Natalie explained, trying to avoid eye contact with him.
“They talked to each other?”
“You told him about us?” Courtney exclaimed, leaning forward.
“Uh, yes.” Natalie answered both of them and kept her gaze on the screen on her lap. It still felt a little weird, talking so openly about something only she could see and hear, and had kept hidden for so many years. It felt a lot weird, sitting in the car beside the man who’d given her so much intimate pleasure and had left her to sleep it off, acting as though it was completely normal to touch a woman deeply and then just walk away.
Didn’t he want...her? Didn’t he want to...with...her? Sure, she’d been, uh, satisfied, but he hadn’t. She’d seen his arousal, heck, she’d felt it—but he’d walked away. Did he not find her attractive...enough? Didn’t he want to go there with her?
Sex, she told herself. Sex. Why couldn’t she even think of Lucien and sex in the same sentence? She fanned herself a little.
“Do you want me to adjust the air-con?” Lucien offered, glancing at her for a moment. His gaze dropped to her neckline and out of habit her fingers rose to toy with the lariat chain at her neck. His eyes heated, trailing over her, and she shook her head as she turned back to her screen.
“No, no, that’s fine.” And completely mortifying. “Thanks.”
“Did you guys do it?” Courtney asked suddenly.
Natalie whipped around to face her. “What?” she gasped.
“What?” Lucien asked, darting around to stare at what would be an empty backseat for him.
Courtney shrugged. “You guys keep staring at each other without letting the other see. You’re barely talking, but it’s not like last time. You remind me of Stacy Borden and Greg Shingles after they did it. It was so obvious.”
Natalie’s mouth opened and closed for a moment. She didn’t even know where to start with that. Her mouth dropped open again.
“Now you look like a fish,” Courtney stated.
She shut her mouth with a snap then took a deep breath. “No.”
“No what? What is she saying?” Lucien asked, his brow dipping in frustration at not being part of the conversation.
“Nothing,” Natalie snapped. She turned to face the teen. “How old are you?”
“Oh, old enough to know how these things work,” Courtney said with a little head waggle, her ponytail bouncing gently.
“How old?” Natalie persisted.
“Fine. Fourteen,” Courtney said, tilting her chin in challenge.
Natalie had dealt with enough students to know when one was stretching the truth. She stared the ghost down. Courtney eventually dropped her gaze. “Soon. I’ll be fourteen, soon,” she muttered. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t see what’s going on here. You and he are together now, and you abandoned Grace.”
“No and no,” Natalie stated, wagging her finger. “First, we’re not—” She stopped, realizing that Lucien was sharing his attention between her conversation and the road, and second, that she was about to share more than he needed to hear. “It’s not like that,” she stated firmly. She didn’t know what had happened back at the roost—well, she knew, she’d been a willing participant...oh, so gosh-darn willing... She blinked. Cleared her throat. From now on, whatever happened at the roost stayed at the roost. “And I didn’t abandon Grace,” she said in a softer voice. “There were things—ghosts—in that bunker, that she was involved in the making of. I think, really, that perhaps she needs to be there, too.” Ghosts didn’t kill other ghosts—they were already dead, so it wasn’t like the ghosts there could do Grace any harm. But those experiments, the torture. Maybe there was a way Grace could work through her death by facing what had happened during her life, and possibly help the others trapped there.
“I’d like to go back there and exorcise those ghosts,” Lucien muttered.
Courtney blanched and Natalie sighed. “I think we should leave it alone. I don’t know what happened in that bunker, or why it’s been closed and abandoned for so long, but I think it should stay closed.”
Courtney was staring at the back of Lucien’s head as though she was waiting for him to spin around and somehow hurt her.
“I’m sure Lucien didn’t mean exorcising you, Courtney,” she said, giving him a meaningful glance.
Lucien frowned. “Uh, no, Courtney. Not you. You just keeping on ghosting, girlfriend.”
Courtney’s cheeks pinked. “Did you hear that? He called me girlfriend.” Courtney sighed as she leaned back in her seat. “He’s so dreamy.”
Natalie rolled her eyes as she twisted around in her seat to face the front. They were just cresting a hill, the desert valley unfolding below them.
“What did she say?” Lucien asked, amusement making his tone light and teasing. Attractive.
Natalie frowned crossly. “Nothing.” What the hell was wrong with her? Had she forgotten what that vampire had done to her all those years ago? Confusion twisted her in one direction then the other. She’d spent the last four decades hating vampires, avoiding vampires, running from vampires, and then Lucien steps back into her life and she was traveling with him, staying at vampire roosts and kissing him and...more.
She glanced at the map on the laptop. “We have to take the next turn on the right.” She’d woken up—alone and mortified—and promptly buried her nose in the laptop, following up on some of the information she’d spied in Dr. Morton’s reports.
“Tell me again why I’m not taking you straight home?” Lucien asked. She could hear the doubt in his tone. She didn’t know what to say to him. Should she offer encouragement? In truth, she was drawing a rather long bow with this.
“Doc Morton had some interesting notes in his office. They were testing all sorts of treatments—” She frowned. No, treatments wasn’t the right word. “Weapons.” Better. “They found something that could neutralize wolfsbane.” She turned the laptop around so he could see the screen. “Lupinus ignis, a rare flowering plant found in various pockets within the Red Desert.”
Lucien checked it briefly before turning back to the road. “Pretty.”
Natalie knew he was being sarcastic, but she had to agree with him. Clumps of flowering stalks, with purple blossoms bearing a deep red spot on the tip of the petal, reminiscent of the sweet pea. Very pretty.
“Well, they found they could make a tincture from the leaves and it could neutralize wolfsbane in humans and werewolves.”
“But wolfsbane doesn’t affect vampires,” Lucien pointed out. “And Vivianne hasn’t been infected with wolfsbane.”
Natalie sighed. “I know, but if it can negate the affects of a poison that works on lycans, it might possibly have some qualities that can work with the lycan toxin. Maybe. At the moment, anything that neutralizes anything lycanistic is on the table.” She shook her head. “I have no idea,” she said to Lucien, “but it’s something we didn’t have before. Or did we? Have you tried Lupinus on your sister?”
Lucien shook his head. “No, we haven’t, and y
ou’re right. It’s better than nothing.” He looked over at her and flashed her a smile, one that was tinged with sadness and a little resignation. Her eyes widened. He was losing faith.
“Hey, we’ll find something. If this doesn’t work, we’ll try something else. You need to turn here,” she added, gesturing to the turnoff. She frowned, glancing around. The sun was now below the horizon and darkness was encroaching. “There are no signs here, no territory markers. How can we seek permission for access?”
She started to type rapidly into her computer. The last thing she wanted was a vicious breed going all territorial on them. If they didn’t have permission, the landholders could sanction them for trespass. Maybe even kill them, depending on their mood.
Lucien glanced through the darkening dusk. “I think this is still Eventide territory. Heath’s family have the foothills and a portion of the desert.”
She frowned. “Uh, RTDB shows this area as being ridgewalker territory.”
Lucien shook his head. “No, that’s got to be wrong. They were wiped out before The Troubles. I believe this would still be Eventide, and Heath won’t mind.”
“Yeah, well, if any of his vamp staff come at us, I’m so throwing you in front of me.”
“Oh, I don’t mind being in front of you. It has its perks.” His words came out all low and rumbly and suggestive. Her cheeks heated and out of the corner of her eye she saw him smile. She really wasn’t used to Lucien being flirty. It was...disturbing, but in an exciting, thrilling kind of way.
She closed her laptop and placed it back in her tote. She wondered if the ridgewalkers were related to the young man who had been tortured up on Mount Solitude.
The twin beams of Lucien’s headlights cut large, powerful swathes through the inky nightscape.
She glanced out the window. “Lupinus ignis grows on the leeward side of a hill, right at the base where the water collects. I guess we just look for hills.” The road they were on lined the base of the foothills, entwining through dunes and rock formations. Occasionally she saw darker shadows. Caves. Not many, but enough to make her wary. Coyotes, bobcats, cougars—she hadn’t seen any since they’d turned off the interstate, but assumed they had to be around. Bobcats, especially.
“Well, which side is the leeward side?”
Natalie bit her lip. “I guess it’s opposite to the windward side,” she said, trying not to smile.
“See, I could never figure that one out. What if the wind changes direction?”
She shrugged. “Well, it’s like moss on a tree, I guess.”
“Yeah, I don’t follow.”
“Well, moss generally grows on the north side of a tree. How does the tree know which direction its facing? Same as those hills.”
Lucien slid his gaze to hers. “You’re kidding.”
She started to chuckle. “Yes, but I had you going.”
They drove along for a while. Lucien drove slow enough that she could peer into the blackness. They were so far off the interstate, there were no lights. No streetlamps. No windows in the dark that hinted at some form of civilization. Fortunately, Lucien had asked Heath for some snacks for the road. She turned toward the basket on the floor behind her seat. “Want something to eat?”
“Sure.”
She wrestled the basket over the console between the seats and perched it on her lap. She lifted the lid, her eyebrows rising when she realized it was a cleverly camouflaged cooler.
She found a couple of raw steaks that admittedly had her mouth watering. She couldn’t help but smile. Whoever had packed the cooler knew what they were doing. Fruit. Raw steaks. Cooked chicken-salad sandwiches and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a very substantial supply of choc-chip cookies. Raw, freshly butchered meat was a good staple for a vampire, with blood still present in the flesh. She hadn’t fed a vampire her blood since the night she’d died, and had no intention of changing that small personal rule, not even for Lucien.
She handed him one of the steaks and the smell of the meat called to her. Lucien had ordered room service back at the roost, but he’d ordered her childhood favorite for her—pasta alfredo. She’d been surprised, and oddly touched, that he’d remembered that about her, and hadn’t wanted to break it to him that she now preferred red meat, and lots of it. One of the side effects of returning from the dead, apparently. She nibbled on her own raw steak.
“You eat steak? Raw?” Lucien asked, his surprise evident.
She nodded. “Love it. It’s like an energy shot for me, ever since I died.” She paused. Good grief. That had come out like part of a casual conversation. She’d never spoken so offhand about that night. How could she be so dismissive? Ever since she’d told Lucien about her death, though, it didn’t seem to bother her as much. She realized some of the anger had dissipated, leaving behind it a well of grief and sadness. She blinked. She realized she’d carried that anger with her for decades, and hadn’t even recognized its weight until it was lifted.
Lucien eyed her and the steak assessingly. “Interesting.”
Natalie shrugged and they ate in silence. A memory of her and her parents in a car on some long road trip to a distant clinic surfaced in her mind. Her mother turned to hand her some sweets, while her father mock protested, and started a candy war in the car. She blinked a couple of times. That was the first time she’d thought of her parents in years without the screams and blood. She sniffed then peered into the cooler again to distract herself. She retrieved a water bottle and grimaced as she held out a blood bag. “Thirsty?”
“Yeah, thanks.” He used his teeth to pull off the lid on the injection port and then sucked at the liquid like a juice box. She contented herself with the water bottle, staring out the window as they drove along.
“Not sure if we’ll be able to spot these plants in the dark,” she muttered. “Maybe we need a drone to fly out here during daylight, or something.” She’d used drones in a couple of her archaeological trips.
“Oh, sorry, I forgot your sight is limited,” he murmured and flicked a switch on the dashboard. The windows flickered briefly and Natalie gaped when she realized she could see outside the car almost as though it was daylight. It was all varying shades of green, though.
“What is this?” she asked, curious.
“Night-vision mode. I also have thermal mode, but I figure we’ll find what we want with—”
A loud bang interrupted him and the car swerved. Natalie braced herself against the passenger door and the dashboard as Lucien quickly brought the car under control and slowed, pulling over to the shoulder.
“Stay here, I’ll check it out.” Lucien was out of the car before she could argue.
She folded her arms. “Go to your room, stay in the car...” she muttered. Should she tell him that she was quite competent with changing a blasted tire?
Lucien ducked his head in the driver’s open window. “One of the rear tires is flat. Sit tight, we’ll be right in a jiffy.” He went and opened the trunk, and she heard him remove some items from the cavity. Then he was lost from her sight.
She sat for a moment, then shifted in the seat. She grimaced at the pins and needles in her feet. Now would be as good a time as any to get out and stretch her legs; they’d been driving for a few hours.
She opened the door and stepped out, her breath gusting in the cool night air. She glanced around. It was so silent, so still, out here in the desert at night. She glanced at her watch. It was coming up to midnight. Sun was due up in just over six hours. Should they push on or start to head back? Lucien would be stuck in the car if they did proceed...
She started to walk along the length of the car. Lucien peered over the trunk of the vehicle. “I won’t be long.”
“That’s okay. I wanted to get some exercise before we took off again.” She started to walk toward him, rubbing her arms. The desert night air was quite
chilled. Lucien frowned in concern. “You should sit in the car, you’ll be warmer.”
For a moment his care warmed her. But then she realized he was looking at her as someone who needed to be cared for. Not like an equal, but like when she was a sickly kid. Natalie frowned at him. “I don’t have cancer anymore, Lucien. I won’t catch a chill or anything. You can stop babying me.”
His surprise at her remarks made her uncomfortable and perhaps just a little bit guilty. She may have spoken more harshly than necessary. She turned away from him and started to walk toward the front of the car. She heard him swear softly.
“Get in the car, Natalie,” he called gently to her.
She shook her head. He had to realize he couldn’t tell her—
“Get in the damn car, Nat,” he said urgently, and she could hear the speed with which he was spinning the wheel brace on the wheel nuts.
“I’m fine—”
A rock skittered in the darkness and she halted. She cocked her head, listening intently. Lucien rose from where he’d hunkered down toward the rear of the car and threw the damaged tire into the trunk, slamming the lid.
“Car. Now.” His words brooked no argument and she turned toward the passenger door.
A low growl rumbled through the night air. The hair on her arms rose, her eyes widening as she jerked around. She fumbled with the latch of the car door and then a shadow moved.
She froze, eyeing the dark shape coming out of the night. It growled again, eyes glowing amber, and her heart stuttered. That was a werewolf. She’d recognize that sound anywhere. She’d heard it that night her mother and father had died, had heard it as it stalked her, pounced on her, tore into her shoulder.
“Nat.”
She couldn’t move, couldn’t respond. Visions flashed through her mind as the creature stepped closer and she could make out its features from the cabin light of the car and the headlights. Its eyes shone golden. Its fangs gleamed. Its hair was a matted dark gray. Her heart pounded. Her muscles spasming all over, fighting against whatever quagmire had her in its grips, fighting against the need to pee.
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