Replica (The Blood Borne Series Book 2) (14 page)

Lea and Ivan got into position beside me as the train turned the corner.

Tuck and roll.

I moved my bag around to my abdomen, then leapt, landing on my upper back with a jarring pain and continuing to roll. When I finally stopped, I lay on my back, staring at the stars in the clear sky. Pain shot through my shoulder and I sighed, my breath escaping in a white, wispy cloud.

“Rachel? You all right?” Lea asked to my left.

I pushed up to a sitting position, clutching my arm to my chest. Pain radiated through my upper body with enough intensity that tiny bright stars flashed across in my vision. “I think I dislocated my shoulder and maybe broke my collar bone.”

“Fuck.”

“I’m fine. Let’s go.” I got to my feet and opened my bag, feeling inside my padded computer case to make sure it had survived the fall. I couldn’t be positive it still worked, but at least it wasn’t in pieces.

“
Rachel
.”

I turned to face her, immediately regretting the rapid movement. “We have two hours tops until the sun rises. We need to get somewhere where we can hide and figure things out.”

She gestured to Ivan, who was lumbering to his feet. “He needs help. Can he make it to one of those houses?”

“I can make it,” he growled.

If I weren’t hurting so much, I would have laughed.

I started walking, counting each step as it sent a jolt of pain through my body. We slipped between two houses and onto the street.

“There,” I said, pointing to an older car parked in a driveway. “I can hotwire that car and we can take it.”

“No,” Lea said. “You and Ivan both need to rest and we’ll have trouble getting a motel room this early in the morning. That house at the end of the street…the one with the For Sale sign. It looks empty. We can hide out there today and rest, then take off tonight.”

“Fine,” I said.

A privacy fence surrounded the overgrown backyard of said house. When we reached the back door, Ivan held up a hand and pressed the side of his head to the door.

“It’s empty.”

I lifted an eyebrow.

“I was listening for heartbeats.”

I groaned. “Of course you were.”

Lea forced the door open and we walked into a kitchen and closed the door behind us. Ivan went straight to the refrigerator and opened the door.

“It’s fucking empty.”

“Then the house really is vacant,” Lea said. “We need to find the basement.”

I opened a door, revealing a set of stairs leading down into darkness, the pit of hell for all I knew. “Found it. Let’s just hope they don’t have any showings today.”

“Surely we’re about to get a break,” Ivan said as he started down the stairs.

With our luck, I wasn’t betting on it.

LEA

Rachel clutched her injured arm to her chest. She was playing it off well, but the hammering of her heart revealed the extent of her injuries. The truth of it was, both she and Ivan were a hell of a lot more than bruised up.

“There’s a way to speed your healing, Ivan,” I said as I followed him down the stairs.

“I heal plenty fast.”

I stepped off the last stair and into the unfinished basement. Apparently the upstairs was empty because they’d shoved all their belongings into the basement. Everything from piles of clothes, carefully stacked framed pictures, a box labeled “Canned Food,” and a random pile of mismatched mattresses. Perfect. I grabbed the first mattress and pulled it away from the wall. “Ivan, lie down.”

With a pained grin, he went to his knees. “Not exactly soft and sweet, but I’ll take it.”

I pointed at him. “Stay.”

He would go along with what I was planning. Rachel, though...I wasn’t sure she’d like it. I took a breath. “Rachel, I need to put your shoulder back in and that’s going to be nearly impossible with a broken collar bone.”

She closed her eyes and sagged against the bottom of the stairs. “Why am I not surprised?”

“There’s a way around this.” I forged ahead before she could ask questions. “A small amount of my blood will help you heal faster. It’ll make it so we can set the bones without pain—”

“No fucking way. Don’t take this wrong, but I do not want to end up with fangs and a hankering for blood.” Rachel took a step back, moving up the stairs.

“I’m not going to force you.” I twisted my lips. “
Mierda,
a little blood won’t turn you into a vampire. We’d have to exchange blood at least a couple of times, and then you’d have to be drained by me or another vampire.” I put a hand on Ivan’s shoulder. “Same for you, wolf. Except I’m not giving you a choice.”

He wrapped his hand around my calf. “What about the bullets?”

I shook him off my leg, but not because it didn’t feel good—on the contrary, it felt way too damn nice. “I’m going to dig them out first.”

Ivan grunted. “I always hate this part.” He pulled his shirt over his head, every inch of his upper body flexing like he was one giant muscle. Werewolves, God love them. They were built like brick shithouses for a reason.

The tanks of the supernatural world, they were as dangerous as any vampire, but had less trouble fitting in with the human populace seeing as how they had no light or food restrictions. He stretched out on the mattress. I let my eyes rove his body, looking for bullet holes.

Right.

“How many times were you hit?” Rachel asked. “And where? I’m not sure Lea can find them.”

A frown curved my lips as I turned to face her. “Why would you say that?”

“You’ve been staring at him for a good minute and don’t seem inclined to start. I figured they must be hidden well. You know, since he has no shirt on.”

I whipped around and dropped to my knees, horrified at my own behavior. Time to get this under control in more ways than one.

“I need a knife that isn’t silver.”

Ivan reached around under him, wiggling his hips to get to his knife. He pulled it out and handed it to me. Only a small pocketknife, but it would do. I flicked it open, then looked over my shoulder at Rachel. “I’m giving you until I finish with Ivan to decide. A small amount of my blood and healed in less than an hour, or I heal Ivan and he takes you to the nearest hospital, where you stand a chance of being picked up by very bad men, thereby putting all three of us in unnecessary jeopardy yet again.”

I turned my back to her as she sucked in a sharp breath and then let out a pain-filled groan. “I think I hate you right now.”

I shrugged. “Ivan’s going to join you in that.”

“I doubt it,” he muttered.

I put the knife tip to the first bullet hole. “Let me know if that changes when we’re in the middle of this.” I pushed the blade in, ignoring the quiver of his muscles around it and the way his heart rate picked up. I treated him like I would a vamp I was interrogating. No emotion, no slowing of the knife. A job to be done and done efficiently.

The first bullet popped out in good time. Then the second and third. Blood smeared everywhere, and it was a good thing I’d fed on the train or the smell would have undone me. On the fourth and final bullet hole, he put a hand on mine, stopping me as I put the blade to the edge of the wound.

“Give me a minute. I need to breathe.”

“No.”

“Lea, a minute won’t cost us.” Rachel put a hand on my shoulder, and for the first time I really looked at the scene and allowed it to sink in. Ivan was bleeding profusely despite my tidy work and his skin had turned as white as the mattress below him. Or as white as the parts not covered in blood. My hoodie sleeves were saturated in it. Ivan’s eyes were closed and his breath came in ragged gulps. “Maybe I hate you a little.”

I snorted. “We aren’t done, and the last bullet is deep.”

“Do it. Get it done,” he whispered, his whole body tensing. I put a hand on the left side of his chest and eyed the last wound. It was going to be a bitch; there was no way around it. I dug in, moving quickly—at least I could spare him a little pain by acting quickly.

The bullet popped out with a ting on the floor. He groaned and passed out.

I pulled my hoodie over my head and tossed it aside. I’d changed my mind about giving Rachel a choice. It was going to piss her off, but it would be easier on her in the end. If she was “forced” into taking my blood, the blame was mine. Not hers. I could do that much for her.

“Rachel, I’m going to give him blood. You’re next.”

“You can’t fucking make me drink your blood.”

I found the pulse in my wrist and pierced through to the vein with the tiny knife. The cut welled up and I pressed it to Ivan’s mouth. “I’m not letting you put all three of us in jeopardy because you suddenly want to be a squeamish princess diva.”

“I’m not a fucking princess!” she snapped.

A thud from upstairs whipped my head around before I glanced back at Rachel. Fear and anger warred in her eyes. Calvin would have died before taking blood from me, so I understood her reluctance.

Rachel moved to my side and went to her knees. She took a knife from her belt and jerked my free arm to her. Not a word was said as she jabbed me with the point of her knife. I looked away before she put her mouth to my skin.

Another thump from upstairs, not as loud as the first but closer.
Madre de Dios.

I took my hand from Ivan and he sat up, his wounds healed over and his eyes brightened with energy. He grinned and winked at me. Then he pointed at Rachel and laughed silently. She jerked her head up and glared at him.

I grabbed her, spun her around, and put a hand over her mouth. Time for the shoulder. Ivan scooted between us. “I’ve done this lots,” he whispered as he took her arm and jammed it back into place with a quick twist. “Besides, shouldn’t she get to hate us both?”

Rachel lurched to her feet, but I could already see the color improving in her face. She took a step, touched her arm and collarbone and then looked at me. I gave her a quick nod, grabbed a new hoodie from a stack of clothes, and pulled it on. Tight it might be, but I would need it if we were caught in the sun.

Laying a hand on Ivan’s arm, I brought his attention back to me and spoke in a low whisper. “Look for a window. It won’t be big considering how little light there is down here.”

I moved to Rachel’s side and she shrunk from me. Only a little, but it was there. I fought not to let that bother me.

Upstairs doors were being opened and closed in rapid succession. “We don’t have much time. What is the dog doing?” she bit out.

“Smelling for a fresh air source,” I said. I had a great sense of smell, but it was to Ivan’s as mine was to Rachel’s.

He reappeared from around a stack of boxes and crooked a finger. Somewhere in the piles of random shit, he’d found a new shirt, I noticed. Bright yellow with white stripes—hardly incognito. More surprising was that it fit him.

Rachel and I hurried toward him. He flicked the window open. “Ladies first.” He put his hands on my waist and swung me up to the ground-level window. I grabbed the ledge and pulled myself through. Rachel was right behind me. Ivan had to twist to get his broad shoulders through, but he managed. Crouching, we hurried across the front lawn and down the road. “Run,” I said.