“Rylan.” His name whispered past her lips as she hurried toward him. “Rylan, can you hear me?” She stared at him, appalled by how pale and weak he looked. She was only vaguely aware of Micah closing the door behind them.
Saintcrow’s eyes opened. “Kadie?”
“He needs blood,” Micah said, removing the straps from Saintcrow’s hands and feet. “Human blood. Preferably fresh.”
Kadie didn’t waste time asking how he knew that. Slipping one arm under Saintcrow’s head, she held her wrist to his lips. “Drink, Rylan.” Seeing the refusal in his eyes, she shook her head. “Just do it.”
Saintcrow glanced sideways at Micah. “Don’t let me take too much.”
Micah nodded.
Saintcrow looked up at Kadie; then grasped her forearm in his hands.
Kadie gasped as his fangs pierced her flesh, closed her eyes as he drank from her. He had tasted her in the past, in moments of passion, but never like this. For the first time, she felt like prey.
She glanced over her shoulder when the door opened. “Dad!”
Andrews glanced from his daughter to Micah to Saintcrow. “What the hell!”
What happened next happened very fast yet Saintcrow experienced it all in horrifying slow motion.
Andrews pulled a gun from his coat pocket. His first shot was for Micah, who reeled backward when the bullet grazed the side of his head.
Summoning what little strength Kadie’s blood had given him, Saintcrow sat up, rage pulsing through every fiber of his being.
Andrews took a step backward, his finger curling around the trigger.
With a cry, Kadie threw herself between Saintcrow and her father as Andrews fired the gun twice in rapid succession.
A wordless shriek of denial rose in Andrews’s throat as bright red stains blossomed across Kadie’s chest and belly. She stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. A moment later, her legs gave way.
Saintcrow caught her before she hit the floor. She lay limp in his arms, her eyes closed, her face as pale as death.
“What have I done? Kadie . . .” Andrews stared at Saintcrow, his face almost as ashen as his daughter’s. “Is she . . . ?”
“Not yet.” Kadie’s heartbeat was barely discernable. Her life’s blood was warm where it dripped onto his arm. He was tempted to take her away from here, but she needed a doctor. And she needed one right now.
“Bring her upstairs,” Andrews said, his voice thick with unshed tears.
Saintcrow glanced at Ravenwood.
“Go on.” Micah pressed a hand to his head. “I’m fine. If you need me, I’ll be in Morgan Creek.”
With a nod, Saintcrow settled Kadie in his arms and followed Andrews upstairs. Moments later, Kadie was being wheeled into surgery. Andrews left to get his wife.
Alone in the hallway, Saintcrow dissolved into mist and floated into Kadie’s room. He hovered near the ceiling while the nurses prepped her for surgery. He had seen blood and death in every form imaginable, caused a good deal of it himself, but watching the surgical team work on the woman he loved was the hardest thing he had ever done. The bullets, silver hollow points specially made for vampires and fired at close range, had done an incredible amount of internal damage.
Saintcrow didn’t have to read the surgeon’s mind to know that her chances of survival were slim at best. He could see it in the man’s eyes.
When the operation was over, they moved Kadie into intensive care. As soon as she was settled, her parents hurried into the room. Carolyn Andrews grasped her daughter’s hand and held it tight, as if she could will her daughter to get better.
Ralph Andrews stood by his daughter’s bed, unmoving. The last two hours had aged him. His skin looked sallow, his eyes filled with quiet desperation and guilt.
Father and mother stood on opposite sides of the bed, not speaking, not looking at each other. Kadie lay unmoving, her face chalk white. The only sound in the room was her mother’s muffled sobs and the hiss and wheeze of the machines that monitored Kadie’s every breath.
Time lost all meaning.
A nurse came in periodically to check Kadie’s vital signs, rubber soles shushing over the tile floor.
Carolyn’s tears gradually subsided. When she spoke to her husband, her whispered words sounded as loud as pistol shots in the stillness of the room. “This is all your fault.”
The softly spoken words struck Ralph with the force of a blow. He reeled backward several steps, one hand raised as if to ward off her accusation, and then his face crumpled, his shoulders shaking as sobs wracked his body.
When Kadie’s vital signs grew weaker, Saintcrow materialized in the room.
“You!” Carolyn exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“Taking what’s mine.”
“No! You can’t! Ralph, stop him!”
“Carolyn, shut up.” Ralph Andrews drew a deep breath.
“He’s the only one who can save her.”
Ignoring Kadie’s parents, Saintcrow went to her side. After biting into his wrist, he parted Kadie’s lips.
Carolyn gasped and looked away as several drops of dark red blood trickled into her daughter’s mouth.
Kadie grimaced, her eyelids fluttering open as she swallowed. She gazed up at him, her eyes filled with confusion and pain. “Rylan? What happened?”
He took her hand in his. “Listen to me. You’re in the hospital. You don’t have long. . . .”
A sob rose in Carolyn’s throat. “No!”
Saintcrow ignored her. “You only have two choices. I can turn you, or . . .”
He didn’t have to put the second choice into words, which was a good thing, because he couldn’t bring himself to say it, couldn’t imagine continuing his existence without her.
Ralph moved to the other side of the bed, his eyes hard. “What the hell are you saying, vampire? Just give her some of your blood and she’ll be fine.”
“She’s too far gone.”
“I’ve saved dozens of people using vampire blood,” Ralph insisted, a note of desperation in his voice. “Kathy’s already doing better.”
“I doubt if any of the others were shot at close range with bullets meant for my kind. Dammit!” he snarled. “We’re out of time.”
“No.” Andrews shook his head as his daughter flat-lined. “No!”
Scooping Kadie into his arms, Saintcrow willed the two of them out of the hospital.
A thought took him home, to his lair in Morgan Creek.
He just hoped he wasn’t too late.