Surrender: Immortal Protectors, Book 2

by H. M. McQueen

  For now, she’d hold it all in. She didn’t want any witnesses when the moment came that she would allow the reality of her loss to sink in. Right now, she’d do what had to be done. They’d waited long enough to ensure that all the blood was cleared away.

  Walking side by side, they made their way to the guest room. The closer she got to him, the heavier Wendy’s heart became. When they reached the doorway, Wendy closed her eyes and took a moment to prepare to see him.

  No matter what, she loved Kieran, would always love him. This would be the last time she’d see him. A deep breath and a single nod to her friend told of her readiness to enter. Emma knocked lightly on the doorway, and it was immediately opened. Cyn stood there, his worried eyes met Emma’s briefly before he looked to Wendy.

  “Thank you for doing this for him, Wendy.” The gruffness of Cyn’s voice conveyed all his anxiety. “I’ll never be able to repay you for helping my brother.” Cyn shocked her by embracing her tightly. She remained still, her arms down at her sides. Understanding how he felt, she smiled weakly up at him when he released her.

  “I understand how you feel. I love my brother and would hate to see him hurt. Besides, I want the same thing as you, for Kieran to recuperate,” Wendy’s voice pitched. “Is he conscious?” She needed to know what to expect.

  “Barely. He’s in and out of it. Right now, he’s out. When he woke earlier, he didn’t speak. Roderick is not sure if he’s fully aware of anything.”

  Roderick approached them. He motioned for her to enter and took her elbow. “Cyn and Emma, will you please wait outside?”

  He waited for the door to close and turned his attention to Wendy. “I will explain what you need to do, and then I will leave.”

  Wendy nodded and finally looked toward the bed.

  Kieran lay on his back, his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted. The sheet was folded neatly across his chest under his arms, which were flat against his sides. An IV drip was hooked up to his left arm. He was still extremely pale, with purple bruising under both eyes and on his jaw line.

  She dragged her eyes from him and looked up at Roderick. He, too, had been studying Kieran, and an expression of caring, like that for a brother, softened his face.

  Clearing his throat, he motioned for her to sit. She sat on a chair next to the bed, careful not to bump into it. “He’ll have to take your blood directly. I am hopeful that he’ll be strong enough to do this. He’s very weak, so he won’t be able to sit or take from your wrist. It will have to be from your carotid artery—your throat.”

  He waited for her to acknowledge that she understood. “I suggest you lie next to him, lean over, and put the side of your neck to his lips.” Kieran moaned softly, and both of them turned to him.

  He became quiet again.

  Roderick placed his hand on Wendy’s shoulder. “Since you’re so sensitive to the smell of blood, I want to assure you that when he feeds, you won’t smell it. He’ll take it directly through an opening in his incisors.

  “One last thing. He will get stronger as he feeds and may want to take too much. Don’t allow him to take so much that it will hurt you. As soon as you feel even a little bit lightheaded, pinch his nose. That should make him stop.” He pushed the intercom closer to the bed, his large hand dwarfed the object. “If for any reason he does not release you, don’t hesitate to call out, I will be right outside the door. Don’t panic, I can stop him from feeding easily.”

  Roderick glanced at Kieran, once again leaning over to lay a hand on his shoulder. “Now, I’ll leave to give you some privacy.”

  “What if he doesn’t feed? Then what can I do?” Wendy asked, her eyes glued to the motionless Kieran.

  “If he doesn’t feed on his own, then push the intercom, I will come back. For now, I will take a small amount of your blood and put a drop in his mouth. If that doesn’t work, we can try a transfusion, but I doubt that will be any more effective than what I’ve done already.”

  He took a small needle and asked her to look away while he pricked her finger and took some blood. The puncture barely registered. She was already preparing herself for what undoubtedly would truly be painful, Kieran’s bite.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Her hand shook as Wendy reached for the intercom; she moved it back a few inches for no other reason than for something to do. She scanned the bedroom and paced around the bed. This was undoubtedly the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. She was subjecting herself to pain to save the man who’d kept a secret from her. Although if she were honest, he’d never lied to her. She could not accuse him of that since he hadn’t promised her anything. She was the one who’d made their time together into something bigger than it was.

  Thinking back to the first time they’d made love, his reaction made sense now. He’d been guilty over sleeping with her when he was engaged to someone else. The times after that were a result of the horrible circumstances, a reaction to the danger and her fear. Nothing more. At least not on his part.

  She stood by the bed and studied him. His sculpted chest rose and fell with each breath he took, soft puffs of air escaped past his sensuous lips. All the while, Wendy memorized his every feature. Even sick, he was desperately handsome.

  Wendy clenched her fists. No longer yours.

  As if sensing her presence, he turned his face toward her. His eyes remained closed.

  Gingerly, she climbed onto the bed and lay on her side, facing him. Unable to stop herself, she brushed his hair away from his brow and kissed his cheek. He didn’t respond. Not sure if he could feed with his face turned, she moved his head and leaned over him. Lowering her throat to his lips, she pressed into him. Their warmth sent chills down her spine.

  Oh, God. Fear spiked into her, but she pushed it back.

  His lack of response worried her. “Kieran, it’s me, Wendy. You have to take my blood,” she urged him, speaking into his ear. “Come on, sweetie, you’ll get better if you wake up and drink.”

  Still no reaction.

  Wendy sat up, took him by the shoulders, careful not to jostle the IV, and shook him lightly. “Wake up, Kieran, just a little. Come on, sweetheart, please, wake up.”

  A soft moan was his only response, and then, he frowned. Kieran’s favorite expression.

  “Okay, that’s more like it. I’m going to press my throat to your mouth. You have to feed, okay?”

  He sighed. She took that as a yes. Not sure how to make it easier, she pushed his lips apart and pressed her neck to his mouth. And waited. Nothing.

  I should call Roderick to come and drop more blood into his mouth.

  Feeling at a loss, she closed her eyes. Her arms were beginning to tire from holding herself over him, so she moved to his side and lay next to him. While trying to figure out what to do next, she rubbed her hand up and down his arm, reveling in the feel of his skin. For a male, a warrior, in fact, he had exceptionally soft skin.

  A muscle constricted under her touch and she realized he was responding to her touch. Urged on by his reaction, she reached up with her other hand, turned his face to her, and began to kiss him, softly at first. When he began to respond, she wrapped her arm around his neck and caressed his face, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw.

  With a hoarse moan, his kiss became more urgent.

  Her pulse began to rise—Kieran’s touch affected her so strongly. Leaving his lips, she began tracing kisses from his jaw line to his ear. She peered at his face. His eyes were still closed, but his breathing was hitched. He was becoming aroused.

  “Kieran, bite my neck, take my blood,” she gasped into his ear before turning her head and pressing her throat to his lips.

  He reacted.

  She felt the shifting of his teeth against her skin. She gasped from the sharp sting when he pierced her skin. Her natural reaction to pull away was brought to a halt with the first tug from his mouth. Wendy almost moaned, her body reacting to the amazing tremors that traveled through her. Instinctively, she held him in place to ens
ure he fed enough.

  Kieran continued to feed. With every swallow he took, Wendy lost more and more control of her body. Her hips pushed into his side, and heat pooled at her core. It became impossible to restrain a moan as arousal assaulted all her senses. The fragrance of Kieran surrounded her. The feel of his strong hard body against hers became almost painful. Not capable of coherent thought, she snuggled into his chest.

  His right arm curled around her, and he held her tight, his lips never leaving her throat. She couldn’t tell if he’d awakened, since she could not see his face, but she could feel his heartbeat become stronger. When his tongue began swirling over the area where he was latched onto, she was unable to prevent a whimper.

  Soon she was writhing against him, rubbing her pulsating body into his over and over until, finally, she convulsed with a climax. All the while, she held him in place at her neck so that he could take enough blood.

  The hard thumping of her heart echoed in her ears, Wendy was breathing hard and took several gulps of air in an effort to regain control. She wondered if Cyn drank from Emma during lovemaking. If he did, it was no wonder her friend was always glowing. The feeling was like no other. Unfortunately, this was her one and only time.

  Kieran’s arm fell away from her waist, and his breathing was once again normal, but he continued feeding. It seemed as if he wasn’t taking very much. She wasn’t sure what to do other than remain still next to him.

  A few moments later, his incisors retracted, and he nuzzled at her neck weakly, licking the wound. Then, he turned away from her and continued sleeping. She watched him for a few moments.

  He looked better already. His color was returning, and the bruising seemed to be fading.

  Now to call Roderick and tell him it was done.

  Who would have thought that pulling away from him would be so painful? She pressed a soft kiss to his jaw and pressed her finger on his lips.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Kieran? You broke my heart. Do you know that? I love you. I always will.”

  Tears ran down her face as she rearranged her clothes. A sob escaped when she was finally able to force herself to push the button on the intercom.

  “Good-bye.”

  A few moments later, Roderick came in. Wendy smoothed the bed sheets while he examined Kieran, trying her best to keep busy, not wanting to cry in front of him, not yet. Later, when she was alone, then she’d let go.

  After a few minutes, Roderick turned to her, his face brighter. “He’s going to be all right. His vitals are already much stronger. It worked.”

  “Roderick?” Kieran sounded groggy, as if his tongue were thick and heavy. “What’s going on?”

  Wendy hurried to the door, and without looking back, she opened it and walked out. As she pulled it closed behind her, she heard Kieran call, “Wendy?”

  It seemed like it took forever to get to the living room. Once she got there, instead of collapsing into a chair like she’d planned, Wendy came to an abrupt stop when she spotted Julian.

  He stood by the window, speaking to Fallon. Seeming to sense her, the Roman turned to look at her as soon as she entered the room. Both males nodded in greeting before resuming their conversation.

  Another Protector, the newcomer Logan, sat on the coach. He lifted his hand in greeting and went back to watching television. Emma and Cyn were absent from the room. They were probably taking a few moments to be alone. Hopefully, Cyn had convinced her to lie down and rest.

  Wendy vacillated between going back to the spare bedroom she’d been in earlier or to stay there. No, she’d remain there where she could keep closer tabs on Kieran’s progress.

  Power seemed to radiate from the three males in the room. She eyed each of them in turn. So much strength. They were so full of life, just like Kieran had been just hours earlier.

  It was unfathomable that like him, they too could be hurt. Everyone had their Achilles heel, even immortals, it seemed.

  Logan offered her the remote. “You can change it and watch something else if you want,” he told her in a deep southern drawl, his eyes flicked back to the muted football game on the screen.

  She eyed the trail of needle marks on the inside of his arm. How much blood had these men given? She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  He didn’t insist and gave her a crooked smile. “The Cowboys are winnin’.”

  According to Emma, he was new to Atlanta. Transferred from Texas. A commercial interrupted the game, and Logan was able to tear his attention away from the television. He lifted a brow at her. “It’s good to know y’all are still around. I’ve only met one other Fae. His name was Liam McNeil. He was a nice guy. We fought together about fifty years ago. He went back to Ireland after finding the lady he’d been sent to rescue, never heard from or saw him again.”

  Fifty years. Logan barely looked thirty.

  “Did he tell you much about himself?” Wendy asked, curious to learn more about her background.

  “Well, let’s see.” Logan scratched his unshaven jaw while thinking. With sandy brown hair that went a bit over his collar and a rebellious lock that seemed to continuously fall onto his brow, he would be a perfect cover model for a western romance novel. His brow crinkled over his hazel eyes for a second before lifting in triumph. “Yeah, I remember him saying that he was about one hundred, but he looked to be in his late twenties. It was amazing to watch women flock to him like bees to a flower. The smell of him was like an aphrodisiac, I reckon.”

  Wendy couldn’t help but smile. Thinking back, she remembered how much it bothered her brother Guiles that girls were always vying for his attention. “What else did he tell you?”

  Logan raised an eyebrow and glanced toward Julian. “I’m not sure what else I can tell you. Liam was a good fighter; he didn’t seem too different from me. Well, except for the pointy ears. You know, like yours.” He motioned to her ears, causing her to reach up and touch them. She’d always been self conscious of her pointy ears and wore her hear long enough to cover them. Her mother always said they were an O’Sullivan trait. Now that she thought about it, it had never dawned on her that both of her parents’ ears were pointy.

  Logan got her attention. “When Liam wasn’t hiding from women, he was a pretty normal guy. He loved to ride horses at my ranch. Said he had horses back home.” The last word was barely audible; the game had gotten Logan’s full attention again. A touchdown, followed by the screech of whistles and flags being thrown made him slap his knee angrily. “Dag nab it!” he yelled and glared at the screen.

  Julian walked past her to the kitchen. At the same time, Emma and Cyn returned. Roderick came around the corner and met them. Wendy joined them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Kieran is going to recover. When I told him he had to remain in bed, he became agitated. I take that as a good sign. I had to give him a sedative so that he can sleep while his body regenerates,” Roderick told them.

  Cyn seemed to almost sag with relief. “Thank God, and thank you so much, Wendy.”

  Blinking away tears, Wendy nodded. “Yes, of course.” She looked up at Julian, who kept a distance from them, as if he wasn’t comfortable around a group of people. “When do we leave for Ireland?”

  “As soon as you’re ready, I have a private jet waiting,” Julian replied and then spoke to Cyn. “Ensure that Kieran gets my message. I’m glad he is well.”

  “No time like the present,” Wendy told the group. “I’m ready to leave now.”

  While the Protectors continued to speak, Wendy and Emma hugged. “I’ll be back to see that baby,” Wendy assured her friend. “Get plenty of rest and feed that child well.”

  “I will,” Emma sniffed. “Call me and keep me updated. We have so much to talk about.”

  “I will,” Wendy replied, unable to stop herself from glancing toward Kieran’s room. “Take care of him,” she whispered to Emma.

  After saying her good-byes to Logan and a very stoic Fallon, she allowed Julian to guide her out. />
  She wasn’t surprised to find herself in the back of a limousine next to Julian, his driver in front hidden by tinted glass.

  The Roman exuded a strong air about him that made Wendy uneasy. There was no question that he was exceptionally powerful. Just sitting near him made Wendy feel faint, as if he drew power from others. The now-familiar shuffling in her head began. He was reading her thoughts.

  After everything that happened that day, she was too drained to attempt to block them. She laid her head back on the headrest and closed her eyes.

  It dawned on her that upon her arrival in Ireland, she’d have nothing with her. All the belongings she’d had with her were burned in the fire, everything else was in her ransacked apartment. With her eyes still closed, she decided to ask Julian some questions. Speaking to him was easier when she was not looking at him. His penetrating eyes unsettled her too much. “I don’t have any clothes or toiletries or anything. My apartment was trashed, and what little I did have burned up at Kieran’s.”

  “I will ensure that everything you need is acquired,” Julian replied. “Your apartment has been restored, although most of the furniture was irreparable.”

  She was dumbfounded. She sat up and stared at him. “Did you do that?”

  Julian’s eyes flickered away, and he snorted as if annoyed. “No, Kieran made the arrangements.”

  Her heart constricted. Was it an act of caring, or was Kieran preparing a place for her to go after she learned the truth?

  “You must have a lot of questions.” Julian prodded.

  At the moment, all that she could think about was Kieran, the feel of him next to her. Would he think of her often when he awakened? Who was he going to marry? Would her heart ever stop hurting? Those were the questions she wanted to ask Julian. But the answers wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear. A lump in her throat made it hard to swallow.

  “Do my parents know I’m coming?”