Awaken Me Darkly (32 page)

Ghost had his thigh wrapped with cloth, and I knew he was going to be okay. But Kyrin…I was fighting to stay calm. I desired this man, this alien, maybe even loved him. Yet he’d been wounded so badly, he might not survive.

“I called for backup and medical,” Ghost admitted weakly. “Be here any time now. Told Jack the whole story.” His gaze zeroed in on my stomach. “Mia? You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said. Trees and sky swam before my eyes. Concerned faces faded in and out, and their voices seemed so far away. For one brief moment, flashing lights and sirens penetrated my senses.

I collapsed.

I don’t remember the drive to the hospital. I just know that when I opened my eyes, I’d lost my clothes, and several doctors were standing over me, examining my abdomen.

“You’re going to be okay,” one of them said.

“I hurt like hell,” I said, my voice raspy.

He grinned, causing his mustache to twitch at the corners. “Understandable. But you’re healing faster than anything I’ve ever seen.”

Within the hour, they had me stitched up. I refused pain medication. I needed my head clear.

“Take me to see Kyrin,” I said. I had to see him, had to know how he was.

The doctors and nurses ignored me.

I refused to be ignored. I screamed profanities at the top of my lungs until one of the nurses ran to get me a relaxant. Before she returned, Jaxon rushed into the room. Dallas followed, his progress slowed by a cane. His light blue eyes still gave me pause. If anyone else had noticed, they hadn’t said anything to me.

“Is everything okay?” Jaxon demanded, weapon drawn.

“Hell, no,” I said. “Where’s Kyrin?”

“Is that what all the commotion is about? He’s here,” he answered, putting his gun away.

“Is he alive?” I probed, my hands clenching, my stomach twisting.

“Yes,” he evaded.

Everything inside me relaxed, rejoiced. I couldn’t help but smile. “Take me to him,” I said.

“Please.”

He gulped, looked away. “Maybe—”

“Please, Jaxon, Dallas. I’m begging you here.”

Jaxon glanced at Dallas. Dallas glanced at me, those lines of tension still firmly etched around his mouth. “You’ll be happy to know Ghost is healing nicely,” Dallas said.

Fine. They didn’t want to take me, I’d take myself. With my wound shrieking in protest, I ripped the IV off my arm, shoved myself from the bed, and plopped into a nearby wheelchair.

“Stubborn as always,” Dallas said. “Help her out, Jaxon, before she kills herself.”

With a sigh, Jaxon grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and ushered me to Kyrin’s room. Dallas hobbled beside us.

Jaxon said, “Damn, I’m glad this is over.”

“Me too,” I whispered. “Me too.”

As dread and hope mingled inside me, we entered Kyrin’s room. I glanced around, noticing that Kyrin was the only patient. He lay stomach down on the bed, his chin tilted toward the door, toward me, his eyes closed. Lilla stood vigil beside him, just as she’d done at Atlanna’s.

A tear—my own freaking tear—slipped down my cheek. I hadn’t cried in so long, the single drop stung my tear duct. God, it felt so good to see him alive. I’d thought all my tears dry, but now, seeing him, I was unable to stop the torrent of emotion that flooded me. Relief. So much relief. Happiness. So much happiness.

“There’s something you should know, Mia,” Jaxon said.

“Don’t,” Dallas said, cutting him off. “Not yet.”

Lilla said softly, “She has a right to know. He’s dying, Mia. Kyrin is dying.”

My joy instantly shriveled, but I gave no outward reaction to her words. I didn’t believe her. I wouldn’t believe her. This man, my man, was not going to die. I wouldn’t let him. Slowly I rose from the wheelchair and hobbled to the bed.

“Leave us,” I said to the men, not even glancing behind me.

Dallas patted my shoulder, then limped from the room with Jaxon at his side. They shut the door behind them. My tears trickled free at last.

“What are we going to do?” Lilla asked. “I cannot live in this world without him.”

“He’s not going to die,” I said through clenched teeth, gazing down at him. His skin was pallid. His cheeks were hollow, and there were blue shadows under his eyes.

“Look at him, Mia. How can he survive?” Lilla caressed his brow with loving fingers. “When we were children, it was he who cared for me. He who taught me how to use my powers. His love has always given me strength.”

“I once had the same type of relationship with my brother,” I said. “His name is Dare, and he loved me when no one else would. He played hide-and-seek, rescued me when my dad became abusive.

When Dare died, I wanted to die with him. And now I discover he’s alive, but it’s as if I’m dead to him.”

My tears splashed onto Kyrin’s chin, then trickled onto his neck. I buried my face in my hands and wept for all I had lost. And all I might lose.

“Please don’t die, Kyrin. Don’t die.”

Two days dragged by, feeling more like two years. Every moment I grew stronger, Kyrin grew weaker. I

’d been back to Atlanna’s house, looking for any lead as to where the halfling children were, but the home had been ransacked, everything taken. Whether it had been done by Atlanna’s underlings, by A.I.R., or by some other government agents, I didn’t yet know. But I planned to find out as soon as the chaos in my life settled.

Lilla and I continued to talk to each other. Ironically, I found comfort in sharing my feelings with her, feelings that I was only now beginning to understand. She shared her own feelings with me. We’d formed a tentative sort of friendship.

I couldn’t come to terms with Kyrin’s approaching death. I needed to fight for him, but I didn’t know how. Helplessness consumed me as I stared down at his thinning body and pallid skin.

“I love him,” I said to Lilla. Each of us occupied a seat beside his hospital bed. “He has brightened my life. I’m different when he’s around. With him I’m a…woman. Not a huntress.”

She sighed. “I wish there were something we could do. But the poison is slowly destroying him.”

I asked her the same question I’d asked her a thousand times before. “Is there no antidote?”

“No,” she answered raggedly, the same answer she’d given each time.

The next day, I hadn’t slept properly, and my brain felt like it had gone on sabbatical. I plopped myself next to Kyrin’s bed, meaning to steal a quick nap. If only he had normal human blood, I thought wearily.

Then I straightened. Shit. Shit! Hope sparked inside me and erupted like wildfire. That was it. That was the answer.

As Atlanna had said, the poison was binding and destroying the healing properties of his blood.

What if his blood was replaced with average human blood?

Risky, I thought. Extremely dangerous—but he would die if we didn’t try something.

I pitched my idea to the specialist in charge of Kyrin’s care, and at first he refused. With a little persuasion—in the form of bodily threats—he decided to test my theory. He used a blood sample from Kyrin and a human, and studied both under a microscope.

“My God,” he said incredulously, “this just might work.”

That was all the encouragement I needed. I couldn’t ask Dallas; he now had the same type of blood as Kyrin. So I called Jaxon from my cell phone, because he was the first that leaped into my head, and explained what I needed.

“Darling,” Jaxon said, “for you, I’ll do anything.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Since Jaxon and Kyrin were of different species, blood compatibility tests were unnecessary. We knew they wouldn’t match. The doctors drained all of Kyrin’s blood that they dared, then hooked him and Jaxon to a connecting tube. I watched the crimson blood flow from Jaxon to Kyrin. Would it work?

My eyes widened as Kyrin’s color slowly returned. Then…his heart monitor stopped.

A voice I didn’t recognize sounded, “Code blue. Room four-one-nine.”

“He’s rejecting the blood,” someone said. More doctors and nurses rushed inside. One man pounded on Kyrin’s chest, while another wrapped his legs in a thermal blanket.
No,
I screamed silently.

No!

“I’m sorry, but I need to ask you to leave,” a nurse said to me, trying to usher me to the waiting area.

“You can ask,” I growled. “But I’m staying.”

She left me alone after that, and I remained exactly where I was, watching Kyrin through horror-filled eyes. This was his last chance. His only chance. If he didn’t make it—

The monitor beeped. Then beeped again. And again. And again. Finally steadying out.

Someone laughed. “He’s going to be okay.”

I collapsed to my knees in a relieved heap. I covered my mouth with shaky hands, halting my cry of happiness. He was going to be okay. I knew it. Felt it. He was going to live.

When he regained consciousness the next day, relief and happiness consumed me.

Kyrin’s eyes were feverish, but he managed to clasp my hand. “You did well,” he said, as if we were still at Atlanna’s and not a single day had passed since. “You defeated her. Something no one else has ever done. I know she is your mother, but—”

My fingers pressed against his lips, stopping his words. “My only concern is for you.”

I lifted my hand, and he offered me a soft smile. “I will live, Mia. I will live and spend the rest of my life loving you.”

“You’d better,” I said, wiping away my tears. “Or I’ll kill you.”

He chuckled. Our palms met, and we held each other, knowing we might never let go.

The day Kyrin was released from the hospital, healthy and whole, was the same day he and Lilla were exonerated of all charges. Smiling—I just couldn’t seem to stop doing that lately—I drove him to his house. I thought to give him a little time alone, to heal, but he took my hand and led me inside.

“There’s something I want to show you,” he said.

“Please don’t tell me it’s a feather boa and a cowboy hat.”

He chuckled. “Nothing like that, I promise you.” He ushered me into his office and placed a
kalandra
in my hand. His
kalandra.
“Look,” he said.

Brow furrowed, I glanced down. I gasped. Inside the locket was a lifelike picture of me, and I was embracing Kyrin. I blinked up at him. “I don’t understand.”

“I told you each necklace holds a legacy for the owner. You have always been my destiny, Mia.

Always.” With that, he enfolded me in his embrace. “I knew it the moment I saw you. You are a dominating, powerful halfling with attitude, and our time together will certainly be interesting.”

I pushed him onto the couch. “You better believe it will.” I had a feeling our adventure had only begun.

UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL WITH THE AUTHOR

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO WRITE THIS BOOK?

I’m fascinated by the possibilities of “what if.” That question alone—what if—opens a vast world of exciting/dangerous/erotic situations. What if other-worlders walked among us? What if we discovered aliens in our own bloodline? What if we fell in love with a darkly seductive alien? The list of questions could go on forever. Writing books allows me to explore and play with those questions, giving them a life of their own.

WHAT’S YOUR PROCESS FOR WRITING A BOOK?

I plant my butt in a chair and write. Just write. I don’t plot out my stories beforehand, but let the characters lead me where they want to go. Sometimes they take me to very strange places—but I’m never bored.

DO YOU BELIEVE ALIENS ARE REALLY OUT THERE?

I believe in the possibility. The universe is a vast place, more so than we might ever realize. I don’t think there’s sufficient proof to say with one hundred percent surety that yes we are alone, or even no we are not alone. How’s that for a non-answer?

YOUR CHARACTER MIA SNOW IS A STRONG, TOUGH WOMAN WHO ISN’T AFRAID TO

BATTLE A MAN. ARE YOU TOUGH LIKE HER?

If by tough you mean do I curl in a fetal ball, suck my thumb and cry for my mommy at the first sign of trouble, then yes. Yes, I am as tough as Mia. I have a quiz on my website titled “Do You Have What It Takes To Be An Alien Huntress?” and I have to admit I scored pretty low.

SPEAKING OF MIA’S TOUGHNESS, DO YOU REALLY THINK A WOMAN COULD KICK

A MAN’S ASS?

Depends on the woman. Depends on the man. For the purpose of the book, however, I like to think of it this way: This is a fantasy of female power just like male-led action-adventure stories are male fantasies of power.

DO YOU HAVE PLANS TO WRITE ANOTHER BOOK ABOUT MIA?

Right now I’m working on a darkly erotic book about Alien Assassin Eden Black and her battle with human and alien slavers. However, I do plan to continue Mia’s story. After all, there are halflings out there she’s determined to find.

YOU REALLY TORTURE SOME OF YOUR CHARACTERS? ARE ANY OF THEM BASED ON

REAL PEOPLE?

Absolutely. As much as I hate to admit this, I’m an emotional person. When I wrote this book, I was at a very dark place in my life and used my writing as a vent. Sort of like cheap therapy. Every time I got mad at someone, I wrote a new fight scene. The real question is, what the hell am I going to do now that I’m happily content?