Perilous Partnership (45 page)

Relaxing again, he leaned his forehead against Raymond‟s thigh, inhaling the aroma of his lover‟s sweat beneath the smell of antiseptic and surgical soap.

The scent was enough to calm his nerves and let him rest.

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JEAN had reached the end of his patience when Constance came in a couple of hours later, the latest in a string of medical personnel disturbing his peace.

“They keep checking and checking, but nothing changes,” Jean said.

“It‟s only been a few hours,” Constance reminded him.

“I want to try biting him again,” Jean announced. “It helped before, or at least we think it did, and we know it‟s helped in the past with magically induced injuries. You can stay and monitor him if you want—the researcher in him would probably appreciate it if you did—but one way or another, I‟m going to feed from him and hope it helps.”

“What kinds of injuries has it helped?” Constance asked, taking the seat opposite Jean. “Everything you can remember.”

“Everything from magical overload to internal bleeding,” Jean said. “I didn‟t always get all the details, but it goes both ways. It helped vampires as well as wizards on different occasions.”

“It makes sense that it would help the vampires,” Constance said, “but I don‟t understand why it would help an injured wizard.”

“I don‟t either,” Jean said, “but I know it has. Ask Thierry. He was in a coma from magical overload, and it snapped him right out of it.”

Constance looked toward where Thierry stood in the doorway. “We don‟t understand it any better now than we did then,” Thierry said, “but Jean‟s told you accurately what we know. The only instance I can think of where it didn‟t bring about almost a complete recovery was Caroline‟s eyes. They were shredded by flying glass during the final battle, and even her partner feeding hasn‟t restored her sight.”

“And you think that‟s why the bleeding in Raymond‟s brain stopped on its own this morning,” Constance verified.

“We can‟t prove it, of course,” Thierry said, “but it fits with what we‟ve observed in the past.”

“I‟m going to try it again in the hope that it helps him,” Jean said. “You can monitor him for both research and medical purposes or not, as you wish, but it‟s been long enough.”

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“Let‟s give it a try,” Constance said. “If I see any signs that it‟s hurting his condition, I‟ll have to ask you to stop, because I can‟t in good conscience let you do anything that will weaken him in his already precarious state.”

“I don‟t want to hurt him,” Jean agreed, lifting Raymond‟s hand to his lips.

He glanced at Constance, who had her eyes fixed on the monitors behind Raymond, studiously not looking in Jean‟s direction. It seemed Constance‟s partner had educated her in the ways of vampires. Taking a deep breath, he licked the smooth skin, grimacing a little at the taste of antiseptic that lingered, and bit carefully into Raymond‟s wrist.

The taste of the anesthesia and of the pain medication assailed his senses first, almost as oily as the pain he had tasted earlier, now blessedly absent.

Continuing to suck lightly, Jean searched more deeply, seeking the connection he had felt earlier at l‟Institut. Above his head, he heard a change in the rhythm of Raymond‟s breathing, as if the wizard was waking up. He sat a little straighter, keeping Raymond‟s wrist pressed against his lips as he studied his lover‟s face. The hazel eyes remained closed, but it seemed to Jean that his color was better. Not wanting to take so much that he could not try again later, he released his connection with Raymond, licking the wounds to close them.

“Well?” he asked, tearing his gaze from Raymond‟s face to look up at Constance.

“His breathing picked up,” she said. “If it stays that way, we can take him off the ventilator. You were right. It seemed to help. How much did you drink?”

“A few centiliters, not more,” Jean said. “I don‟t think it‟s as much about the amount of blood as it is about the magical connection. I don‟t know if I can explain this since you haven‟t ever fed the way a vampire does, but it‟s like I can sense the core of his being, the part of his mind or soul that makes him Raymond, and when I feed, especially if I really concentrate on that part of him, there‟s a connection, and that strengthens both of us, regardless of how much or how little blood I actually take.”

He looked over at Thierry. “I think that‟s what happened the first night with Alain and Orlando. I think in trying to read Alain‟s honesty in his blood, Orlando connected to his core, and that connection has never wavered.”

“If you really took that little,” Constance said, looking down at her notes, “let‟s give him six hours to recover and see how he‟s doing. If everything has stayed stable, let‟s try it again. The sooner he wakes up, the better it is for his overall prognosis. I‟ll send in a nurse to remove the breathing tube.”

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WHEN Constance returned six hours later, Orlando and Alain sat with Jean, the two men having arrived to give Thierry a break. She consulted Raymond‟s chart and the readouts from the various monitors. “Everything looks stable,”

she said. “He‟s continued to breathe fine without the ventilator, which means that his brain stem function is stable. His pulse has stayed steady, and his color has improved considerably. There‟s nothing to indicate any swelling or additional trauma in the brain, so from my standpoint, it‟s just a matter of him waking up so we can see how his higher brain functions are doing.”

“And you want him to have higher brain functions with his partner biting him?” Orlando joked, elbowing Jean in the ribs. “I think that might be overestimating even Raymond‟s considerable abilities.”

The levity broke the tension in the room. “Are you ready to try again?”

Constance asked Jean, a smile playing around her lips.

Jean‟s reply was to reach for Raymond‟s hand again, looking for a different place on his arm to bite so he would not aggravate the already broken skin.

“Bite his neck,” Orlando said before Jean could begin preparing Raymond‟s arm. “I know it isn‟t as easy with him in bed like this, but it‟s the freshest blood, the most intimate connection.”

Jean shook his head, lowering the sheet to reveal the nearly faded bite mark on Raymond‟s chest. “That‟s the most intimate connection.”

“Then bite him there. You want his body, his spirit to respond to you. The more powerful the connection, the more likely that will happen, and it isn‟t going to happen if you bite his arm,” Orlando insisted.

“Can you monitor the machines remotely?” Jean asked Constance. He had grown accustomed to biting Raymond‟s wrist or even his neck with others around, as he had participated in various magical rituals with his partner, but he could not bring himself to bite Raymond‟s chest with anyone else in the room.

“Of course,” Constance said. “I should have thought of that. I‟m going to turn the intercom on so I can get your attention if I see anything that suggests you need to stop, but otherwise you‟ll be alone.”

Alain and Orlando rose as well, leaving Jean alone with Raymond. The vampire pulled the curtains over the window and returned to Raymond‟s side, stretching out alongside his lover as best he could in the narrow bed. “This better work, Raymond. Do you hear me? I‟m getting tired of sharing our secrets with other people.”

He lowered his head and licked over the healing mark, the one mark Raymond refused to let disappear, and matched his fangs to the existing incisions, biting down fully this time. If they thought a deeper connection would speed Raymond‟s recovery, then Jean would make the connection as powerful as he knew how.

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He sucked hard, noticing in passing that the taste of the drugs had lessened since he last fed, making him hope whatever had kept Raymond unconscious for the surgery was fading from his system. He delved as deeply as he had ever dared, finding Raymond‟s core and pouring himself into it. All his love, all his faith, all his hopes, all his desire, every positive emotion he possessed, he pushed it all through the connection, offering it to his lover, praying desperately that Raymond would feel it and respond.

He heard a gasp above him at the same time he felt a hand tangle in his hair, and suddenly the connection slammed fully into place, Raymond‟s desire growing to match Jean‟s own. Fearful of a sudden movement injuring Raymond and sure that Constance would burst into the room any moment, Jean released his fangs, surprised to sense the connection linger for a moment before it faded as well. “You‟re awake.”

Raymond coughed a little as he nodded before looking around for something to drink.

“I don‟t know if you can have anything,” Jean said. “Let me get Constance.

Will you be all right for a moment?”

Raymond nodded. Jean opened the door to see Constance standing right there. “He‟s awake and thirsty.”

“His throat is probably very dry from the feeding tube and the anesthesia and everything else,” Constance agreed, coming into the room. “There‟s a pitcher of water by the bed. Raymond, you can have a few sips, but take it easy.

Anesthesia makes some people nauseous. Not to mention that you have a head injury. I‟m going to check your vitals and then I‟ll leave you to rest again.”

Jean poured a little water into a cup and handed it to Raymond, who drank gratefully. “Easy,” Jean said, catching his hand and drawing it away from his mouth. “She said a couple of sips. You can have more if this doesn‟t make you sick.”

“So thirsty,” Raymond said hoarsely.

“That‟s normal,” Constance assured him. “Just wait a few minutes to let the water you‟ve already drunk hit your stomach. If that goes well, you can have more, and you can even have some soup for dinner.

“Do you remember any of what happened?” Alain asked from the doorway.

Raymond shook his head, wincing at the pain that caused.

“You probably won‟t want to move your head much,” Constance counseled, seeing his expression. “You had a pretty serious bump even before we had to do surgery to relieve the pressure on your brain from the bleeding.”

“That explains the headache,” Raymond quipped, summoning a smile for Jean. Ignoring everyone else, he stretched his good hand toward his lover, who

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was much too far away, as far as Raymond was concerned. Jean took his hand and perched on the edge of the bed, his hip touching Raymond‟s thigh.

“What‟s the last thing you remember?” Jean asked, echoing Alain‟s question.

“It‟s all fuzzy,” Raymond admitted. “I remember being at l‟Institut and hearing an alert because someone was nosing around the wards. I found Leighton outside, trying to get in. I don‟t really think he was responsible for the graffiti or the fire, but I dragged him inside to talk to him anyway. He denied everything, but I wouldn‟t expect him to admit it even if he was guilty.” He looked toward the water. “Can I have some more, Constance?”

“Go ahead,” she said. “All your vitals look good. Just a few sips of water at a time until you‟re sure you aren‟t going to get sick. I‟ll leave you to rest, and I‟ll order some soup for dinner.”

Jean lifted the cup to Raymond‟s lips, steadying it as he drank. “Leighton‟s gone,” he told Raymond as he set the cup back on the tray. “We found him buried in the rubble before we found you. His skull was crushed.”

“Does Adèle know?” Raymond asked immediately. His immediate concern had to be Adèle and the effect the loss of her partner would have on her. He could deal with his own guilt for having dragged Jude with him into the explosion later, when his head was not pounding and he was not surrounded by people.

“She does,” Orlando said. “She arrived shortly after Constance took you to the hospital. She kept looking around oddly until I finally asked her what was wrong. She said the pressure of the partnership bond was gone, so I told her what had happened. She looked like she couldn‟t decide if she was happy or sad. I don‟t really know her well enough to feel like I could press her to talk about it.”

“Ask Magali to talk to her,” Raymond said.

“So what happened after that?” Alain asked. “Do you remember anything else?”

“Another alert, this one that someone had come through the wards,”

Raymond said. “I dragged Leighton with me as I went to investigate because I didn‟t expect anyone that early in the morning. I caught sight of a skirt or a cloak running into the wing we closed.”

“The one I begged you not to go into?” Jean asked archly.

“That one,” Raymond agreed, his voice meek. “I didn‟t think. I just reacted.”

“Did you ever see who it was?” Jean asked again.

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“It looked like Marguerite from the first seminar, but that can‟t possibly be right,” Raymond said, releasing Jean‟s hand to rub at his forehead. “What reason would she have to do this?”

“I don‟t know,” Alain said, “but I‟m pretty sure Adèle will find out. I can‟t call her from here, so I‟m going to step outside. I‟ll be back in a few minutes.”

“No,” Orlando said, joining Alain. “Raymond needs to rest. We‟ll come back in the morning and let you know if Adèle has learned anything.”

The door closed softly behind them. Now that they were alone, Jean leaned forward and kissed Raymond gently. “I missed you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Every moment you were gone was like a year, and then to come back and find you buried alive…. Mon Dieu, Raymond, I almost lost you.”