Prince of Shadows (12 page)

“How is he?” he asked instead, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorframe.

Gabby jerked, swiveling in the chair to blink at him. As if she'd been dozing, that or crying, her eyes were suspiciously red and swollen. Either way it was equally obvious that she hadn't expected to see him again. If the shock on her face wasn't readable enough, then the zap of surprise he felt across their tentative link certainly was.

Or maybe it was the outfit. The dirty jeans, which he'd scooped up from the floor of his cramped room, didn't exactly add much to the ensemble other than to upgrade him from flasher to well, he wasn't sure what. With no shirt and the black duster jacket that—damn Roland's height—didn't so much as flare around him as drag on the floor, he probably looked like a kid playing dress-up in his parent's closet. Oh yeah, the outfit was damn comical in a how-sad kind of way.

Gabby recovered, dragging her gaze away from his exposed chest, and looked back down at her patient. “Oh, um. Better. Shae gave him enough painkillers to knock out a giant. She says as long as she can fend off any potential infections that he'll survive.”

“And the burns? Will they scar?” he asked, flexing his own slowly healing arm. The ribs were coming along nicely, barely tender really, but something about fire—especially merker fire—seemed to resist the Paladins' innate healing capabilities.

She drew in a lungful of air, her shoulders shaking delicately as she let her breath back out. “Shae's powers aren't suited for burn therapy. She was able to start the healing process on the most life-threatening wounds but…” She trailed off, the misery on her face telling him all he needed to know. Poor fucker was going to look like a monster for the rest of his life.

“Would he be better off in a hospital with a good burn unit?” he asked gently.

She shook her head. “He's a power sink. If they hooked him up to anything electrical and he wasn't alert enough to control it, he'd automatically draw. Potentially he could black out the entire area.”

“That makes things complicated, doesn't it?”

She nodded even though his question had been rhetorical. He fidgeted in the awkward silence that followed.

Gabby let out a sharp breath. “If you're wondering about your knife, the answer is yes, I grabbed it for you after you took off. It's in my room, as yours doesn't have a working lock and I figured you'd be pissed if someone came along and took the pretty magical relic hostage.”

He blinked, glad the doorframe kept him from rocking back on his heels in shock. His knife? Crap. That just went to show how messed up he'd been that he hadn't even thought of the blade until now. Some Paladin he was. Not that he'd let on to Gabby how much their little encounter earlier had gone to fucking with his mind.

“Thank you. I'll grab it later,” he said, trying for casual and cringing at the note of tension in his voice.

She twisted in the seat, her brow raised. “Don't tell me you need me to open my room for you. We both know you can get in anytime you want.”

He had to work hard to stifle the obvious comeback that sprang to his tongue—
Is
that
an
invitation, cookie?
—and said instead, “Actually, I was hoping for a minute of your time. Can I speak with you?”

The quiet stretched, long enough that Valin thought she might ignore his request, but she eventually cleared her throat. “No one's here. No one who's awake anyway.”

He straightened from the doorframe, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She was right, but for some reason having this conversation with her injured—albeit unconscious—puppy dog in the room wasn't how he'd envisioned it going down. She was sitting there waiting for him though, so he took a fortifying breath and blurted it out. “I got you something.”

She tipped her head, her brow tugged down so she looked as much confused as inquisitive. He pulled out the bag of blood from one of the duster's many pockets and held it out to her like a peace offering. She recoiled.

“Take that away,” she hissed, turning her back on him. She grasped onto the edge of Aaron's cot, her eyes pointedly fixed on the cabinets on the other side of the room, and her jaw working.

Take it away? After he'd gone through all those hoops to get it for her? Breaking and entering, having that oh-so-fun chat with her daddy, the old lady, the cab ride. Ungrateful, stubborn, little…He strode across the room, jerked her off the chair, and spun her around. Her hands instinctively settled on his chest as he pulled her tight against him.

“Goddamn it, Gabby. It's not like you're breaking some stupid-ass vow about drinking from a human vein. It's Red Cross discards, destined for the trash. Drinking this is not taking anything from anyone other than maybe some highly resourceful gutter rat, and that's assuming the blood isn't disposed of properly.” He shook the bag at her, the contents sloshing. “Drink the damn blood!”

She averted her face, but that didn't stop him from seeing the tear streaming down her cheek. “I can't, I can't,” she whispered, then repeating the refrain more firmly. “I can't.”

Frustration settled like lead in his gut, making him want to scream. He wanted to kiss that tear, ease whatever pain and confusion she obviously felt. He settled for thumbing it away, the calloused pads stroking the tear across the fine line bracketing her mouth that he swore hadn't been there a day ago. Aging. Dying before his very eyes. “Can't or won't? Because from where I'm standing, refusing to feed is looking a lot like stubborn suicide.”

She lifted her chin, the hands that had settled on his chest pushing him away. “You think I haven't tried? The first time I became positively desperate I broke into a blood bank and drank to my heart's content.” She took a deep breath. “And then after, do you know what happened?”

He shook his head, desperate to understand. Desperate to help her.

“I could
hear
them. Every damn one of them was in my head. Even now, after diluting the blood with my other kills I can still hear them if I try. Worse, I know that because of what I am, if I really wanted to, I could tap into their thoughts and manipulate them.” She shook her head, tears painting pale rivers in the smudged ash of her face. “I won't do that,” she whispered.

Shock hit him first, followed by frustration, quickly tailed by weariness. This is why she hadn't gone to her father for help. She'd already known that how Roland fed wouldn't work for her. And since she was already convinced she was dying, sacrificial brat that she was, she probably didn't want to make Roland or his mate feel more sorry for her by asking for any other suggestions. Not that there were any others beyond the obvious one that he could see, and she'd already given her opinion on that. Still, he'd be damned if he gave up without the fight to end all fights.

“You won't manipulate me.” He pushed his hair back from the side of his neck.

Satisfaction and something damn close to hope flourished when she licked her lips, her gaze fixated on the pulse at the base of his throat. She swayed, her head dipping forward, before she caught herself, her cheeks reddening as she twisted her face away. “Why do you even care?”

Fuck. It was a good question. Why did he care? Every interaction they'd had always ended in one of two ways: her running away or trying to push him away. Which, yeah, should have been a big fucking clue about what she thought of him, or rather the idea of him and her. Too bad for her, Valin had never been one to give a shit about underlying messages. Gabby was his. And he was too damn greedy to let her go. First step though was to stop her from the self-destructive spiral she was so bent on taking.

It was definitely time for an intervention. Only this makeshift ICU room was not the place for all the things they had to hash out.

He eyed the bandaged patient on the cot. Good bet Gabby wouldn't leave Aaron alone in here. With a sigh he stuffed the blood bag back in his duster and closed his eyes, taking a little mental look-see through the building and…

<>

Gabby's eyes narrowed, her head tilting as if she were trying to catch the shielded projection. Not that he cared. Not that she'd given him any other options.

<>
came Bennett's grumbled reply. Valin frowned at how thin the mental thought was. Almost like the Paladin was projecting through static and cutting in and out.

<>

<>
This thought was much sharper, as if the Paladin had moved away from the source of interference.

<>
he said and closed the connection, figuring if Bennett thought it was urgent he'd come quickly.

Gabby's eyes narrowed, her chin jutting up in that oh-so-adorable way that she liked to try and break others down with. “What do you think you're doing?”

He didn't respond, just waited. Sure enough, he caught the faint echoes of hurried footfalls from down the hall, though Valin was a bit surprised at the pitter-patter that sounded in the wake of Bennett's heavy thunder-boots. The question of who was clipping his heels was answered the moment Bennett burst through the door, a towering female stumbling to a stop behind him.

Amazon. Should have known it was her that had been causing the weak connection.

“What is it? Is there a change in his status?” Amazon asked breathlessly, clutching the doorframe.

“Valin?” Bennett asked in lieu of a real question, as he'd obviously already taken status of everyone in the room and checked it off as all is well.

“Just need someone to stay with him,” Valin explained, almost sorry his lack of explanation in his request had spilled over onto Amazon, scaring her. He might have made it all the way to remorseful if her eyes hadn't narrowed as she came to her own conclusion that there was no emergency, a petulant you-made-me-run-for-nothing twisting her mouth into a scowl. Didn't take her long to realize the tactic wasn't going to work on him, and her gaze shifted to Gabby as if to point out the obvious: that someone was staying with Aaron.

“Gabriella is needed elsewhere,” he told her.

As predicted, that idea didn't seem to go over too well with Gabby. She crossed her arms, looking like she was about to refuse. He leaned in close, lowering his voice as he spoke. “Unless you'd like to discuss your feeding habits with everyone here?”

She narrowed her eyes, a silent
you
wouldn't
. He raised his brow, casting back his own
try
me
.

She must have realized he was serious because she stepped away, turning to Amazon and addressing her. “Be sure to find me if there is any change.”

“Of course, but…”

With a stiff nod, Gabby brushed past them, her boots clomping like thunderbolts as she stomped down the hall.

“If you'll excuse me,” Valin said, making his own hasty exodus before Bennett—or worse, Amazon—could question him further.

Settling into step beside Gabby, he didn't make any move to alter her path. She was already heading in the direction of his choice: toward their quarters. Even so, she hesitated in front of her door, her brow knotted as if she was unsure, now that she'd led him here, that she really wanted to invite him into her personal space for their discussion.

He moved in behind her, angling over her shoulder so the heat of his chest brushed her shoulder blades, his breath feathering over the side of her face. “What's the matter, cookie—afraid of what you might do if you get me into the same room with a bed?”

She stiffened, the delicious curve of her throat lengthening as her chin lifted predictably in the air. He had to work hard to repress the smile when she determinedly reached out and twisted the knob, all but charging in ahead of him. He stepped in behind her, closing the door just as she spun on him, the flare of banked embers in her eyes giving away how angry she really was. Angry and sexy. Fuck, did her tits have to look so damn appealing heaving beneath that tank top?

“Okay. We're here. What did you want to discuss with me that you couldn't have done in the infirmary?”

“This.” He shifted into her space, his hand slipping into the thick locks of fire at the base of her skull and pulling her toward him. Her eyes widened, air hissing between her lips as she read in his heated gaze exactly what he planned to do with her. If she'd objected, possibly he would have stopped, but then again, probably not, so it was a good thing she didn't.

His mouth touched hers, and like fire touching ice she melted, her lips parting to allow his intrusion. Her head tipped back, sinking into the firm grip of his hand and offering up more of herself to his plying tongue. A hand settled on his shoulder, tentatively at first, but within moments it had dug into the thick folds of the duster, her other hand skipping across his rib cage as it found its way beneath the material and clamped down hard on his side—thankfully his good side, as the other was still feeling tender.

Taking that as a sure sign saying
yes, more please
, he wrapped his other hand around her waist and used it to hold her steady as he pressed his body into hers. He was rewarded by the most delicious sound of pleasure from her, a rumbling moan at the back of her throat that seemed to encompass both approval and a demand. Happy to oblige, he delved lower, kneading the full globe of her ass as he pulled her tighter against him. She moaned and then blew his mind away when she arched her back and rubbed her pelvis against the ridge of his cock.

Fuck, he could smell her arousal. Worse for his control was the throbbing need he could feel echoing back across their growing bond. His cock wept with joy, a shudder of anticipation driving up from his balls through his body. God, he had to get into her pants, now. Before he couldn't hold back anymore. And holy hell, when did he have to fight the urge to come while simply making out?