The Blood Bride (Blood Secrets) (18 page)

He watched the ground rushing up to meet them. His grip on Hope tightened. She shook. He wanted to tell her it would be all right, but he wouldn’t lie. It could still go very wrong. So he held her tight, and watched the drop slowing, but not enough.

“Hold on. It’s going to be a hard landing.” Javed’s voice rang through the cabin, as Xavier curled his body around Hope, covering her head as the car around them exploded.

* * * *

Hope opened her eyes and the smell of burning rubber filled her senses. Her arm and leg hurt and something heavy lay across her. Xavier.

“Xavier? Wake up, Xavier. Something is burning and we have to get out of here.” She didn’t know what it was, but the instinct to hurry was something she couldn’t ignore.

He groaned, and she pushed ineffectually with one arm. The other she couldn’t use easily, and the pain that rushed through her sucked the breath from her body.

“Come on, Xavier. Wake up.” He groaned again, as if in response to her harried words. He opened his eyes, slowly, and she pushed again. “Xavier, we have to get out.” An edge of hysteria coloured her words, as big greasy waves of fear tumbled around in her stomach. He blinked once then again. Xavier moved to the side and a weight lifted off her leg. He clambered to his knees.

“Oh, God. Shit. You’re hurt.” The words grated out as he reached towards her. A trickle of blood snaked down the side of his head, but he ignored it as he looked around.

The door buckled inwards, the dark colours of the upholstery pushed out of shape and filling the area around them. It was hard to move without knocking something. She tried to stay still as the screaming pain in her leg consumed her.

Xavier pushed on the twisted metal. It gave with a groan, opening slightly. Hope watched as he pushed again. It gave a little more. He turned his back to it, looking at her with an unspoken question. Hope nodded. She was still with him. She waited as he turned back to face the door once more. His movements were jerky and awkward, yet he gave one last tremendous heave. With a groan it gave and light spilt into the wreckage of the vehicle, as did more smoke.

Xavier reached for her, carefully lifting her in the cramped conditions close against him. She cried out. The pain left her wanting to retch. Bent over nearly double as he covered her protectively, he pushed his way through the misshapen opening. He headed towards the sidewalk, scanning the area before laying her down on the concrete. Tears dribbled down her dirty cheeks, and he wiped them away with care, leaving smears on her face.

“Where are Javed and Christophe?” Hope said between coughs as smoke filled her lungs.

“I don’t know, but I have to see if they got out.” He straightened, and she could see the tattered remains of his clothing. Cuts and scratches oozed and the grazes on his face worried her as billowing grey clouds covered him, hiding the damaged skin from her view. “Will you be all right for a moment?”

She nodded and he moved back to the vehicle. She couldn’t see, as the dark fog became increasingly dense. She coughed again. Her ribs ached from the involuntary action. She flung her good arm around her chest, seeking some surcease from the throb.

Then she spied it. Red and yellow flames, dancing through the smoke, then she knew they were in more trouble.

Fire.

“Xavier! Xavier!” The blackness grew larger in the sooty haze, as the flames grew, and licked at the back of the vehicle. “Xavier! The car is on fire!”

She screamed to him as he emerged, Javed in his arms and a grim, pained look on his face. Blood ran down his cheeks and a gash on his forehead was laid open to the bone. Her stomach churned and roiled, and she fought to contain the nausea. “We have to get out of here. The car is on fire.”

“I can’t put him down, but we have to get you out of here to safety.” The anguish in his eyes tore at her.

The sound of rushing feet came from beyond the smoke. “Damn it!” Xavier placed Javed next to her quickly and turned. His eyes flashed red and teeth descended—ready to fight.

Hope wanted to cry, to scream, to rage against the fates—for not only putting them in this life threatening position—but also for hurting Xavier. Bodies took form in the smoke, surrounding them.

The noise was hideous. The black smoke choked, while the leaping flames licked at them from the wrecked vehicle. A feral sound escaped from Xavier, just as the licking of the flames seemed to ratchet up. The heat generated by the fire made her skin feel like it was shrivelling against her bones. Fear left her shaking.

Hope grabbed Javed with her good arm, bringing his supine body closer to hers. She looked around for somewhere to hide, but the billowing cloud of black hid everything from view.

She coughed, chest screaming as the paroxysm continued.
This isn’t how it was supposed to end!
The words echoed in her mind and her eyes burned.
Dear God! And Xavier? What would happen to him?
She felt the trickle of tears, scalding hot running down her face. She focused on Xavier’s taut back, and suddenly noticed the tension drained away from his posture.

The outlines took form. Her breath fled, as finally they were revealed—other vampires from the nest. But the fire was still too close, and where was Christophe? “Xavier? Where is Christophe?”

He turned, and she could see the naked grief on his face. He shook his head and looked away—back towards the others.

Pain lanced through her heart and he turned away from the comfort she could offer. There was no time to contemplate their situation. Not now. They still had to survive this inferno. She thrust the hurt aside as they moved swiftly. One picked up Javed carefully, pulling him from her grasp, and Xavier leant back towards her. He bent with a small groan of pain and slid his hands underneath her, careful not to further injure the limp arm or the leg.

“Xavier. No. You’re injured.” She held on, though, not wanting to hurt him anymore. She fixed her gaze on his face, but cast a last look at the fire, before closing her eyes.

Red-hot pokers of pain shafted through her each time she coughed. She bit back the cries of discomfort, knowing all they would do was torment Xavier with the knowledge of the injuries she had sustained.

They moved through the shadowy gloom of smoke, and towards the night. The smoke choked her and stung her screaming eyes. But the strength of Xavier holding her tight against his body reminded her that they would get through this. She tried to think how long they had been under attack then waiting. It had felt like forever, yet instinct told her everything had happened within a very short time. Long minutes passed, ones she would never forget.

They emerged from the smoke. The side of a building was just beyond them, when a rumbling sound started. Xavier started to run, as did the others around them, and this time the jostling grabbed her breath, seared her from within, and the grey she had kept at bay seeped into her vision as she fainted.

* * * *

A sense of weightlessness and dim conversations interrupted the nothingness. Movement and people talking impinged then floated away. Lights flickered briefly before darkness descended.

She wanted to sleep, but something woke her again, with touches and probing.

His voice guided her through the darkness. Xavier’s voice. It wove through the dreams, sometimes distressed and other times startlingly angry. She reached towards the voice. It pulled at her.

She woke.

Eyes opened into the light. A dim glow shone in the room. She was back in her bedroom in the secured quarters. She mentally catalogued her injuries.

Her arm ached, but while it pained her to move it, she realised that now she had motion once more. Her leg and chest still hurt, along with other aches and pains, though the agony in her chest had settled to a dull ache, except when she coughed. At least the vicious stabbing was gone. Her leg seemed unresponsive—still aching, but immobile.

“How did I get here?” The words rasped from between chafed lips. It sure didn’t sound like her voice, and her throat burned.

“You’re awake.” Xavier leaned in, and she grimaced at the grey tone to his skin.

He smiled, and ran an unsteady hand over her forehead. She watched him, as the lines of tension smoothed out of his face. “Do you remember the accident?” His words were soft.

“Yes. How is Javed?” She moved, no more than a small jerk, but she hissed as the pain hit again. The last sight she had had of the swarthy guard was him in the arms of another, and she certainly had no memory of him regaining consciousness.

“He will be fine. He woke earlier and has been fed. By tomorrow he will be as good as new. You, on the other hand, dislocated your shoulder, broke your leg and suffered extensive bruising to your chest and ribs.” Xavier lowered himself until he perched on the edge of the bed. His eyes closed, and when he opened them again they gleamed. “You should never have been hurt.” The gentle words filled the hollow space in her chest.

Hope raised her arm. It ached, but she could now at least use it. She touched his face lightly, letting her fingers still on his skin. “It’s okay, Xavier. You did everything you could. You shouldn’t be angry at yourself. You didn’t drive me into danger.”

He averted his eyes, dealing with some emotion that caused him pain. “Hope… In such a short time you have become…important to me.” He turned back to her. “I don’t understand how this has happened, but I need you as much as I need blood and oxygen. I will not lose you.” The words were forced out, and she saw that he hated admitting this weakness.

Xavier’s gaze dropped and he plucked idly at the covers on the bed. Her chest tightened when she saw his discomfort.

Emotions she had tried vainly to ignore reared their heads. “Xavier… I don’t know what is happening either. I’m kind of lost here too.” Her words were thoughtful and he leant forward.

The touch of his lips upon hers was soft. Emotion swelled and she waited for him to move away, but he didn’t. “Stay with me?” The words were out before she could call them back.

 
He nodded at her in the silence. “I’ll stay, but I need to have a quick shower soon. I haven’t had a chance yet.”

 
She looked down, and noticed she was in a bra and briefs. The cute, sexy red set she had pulled on earlier. He smiled at her when she wordlessly asked him with her eyes. “I thought you would be more comfortable.” With that he winked then turned, soundlessly walking towards the bathroom, but she noted he left the door open.

Sounds of running water lulled her back towards the call of sleep. She let herself go.

* * * *

The dream crept through the night, filling her with a cold sensation as the sepia-toned scene appeared before her. She watched the movements. The fire and a child removed from the house. She knew the child was her. Her stomach churned, as it changed to the room where Cressida had found her, cold on the cot in the empty room, still as a statue.

Then Xavier. She saw him dressed in old-fashioned clothing, with laced ruff at his wrists. His speech so different, but his dear face the same. Another man. Tall and blond—a foil against the dark-haired man who’d caught her attention. There was something wrong with this man, though. Something in his eyes was cold—so cold.

She needed to warn Xavier, but he looked through her. She put a hand out to touch him, but instead of solid muscle, she touched empty air and she heard a keening sound, knowing dimly that this was her voice.

The scene changed again. A car then smoke. A face watching and laughing in the shadows. Blond hair again. He had orchestrated and viewed the action. Once more the scene changed, a building and a gun raised, but before a shot could be fired on the three forms, more came from within the grey mist.

The building was tall. She knew without conscious thought that she had seen it before. A wisp of smoke escaping, an explosion and it was gone. It collapsed, billowing smoke filled the air, as the rain of paper and debris fell to the ground and she could see bodies strewn everywhere. The hideous, grisly sight made her feel sick. There on the ground, dead, was Xavier. Blood seeped onto the ground beneath him, and she ran to him. She wanted to scream her despair, but she couldn’t. Someone grabbed her. The laughing man held her, mocking her—and them.

It was Estersham. She was sure. She turned—

“Wake up, Hope. It’s just a dream.” She was held in a strong grip. Xavier restrained her gently, as she woke from the nightmare. Sobbing. Hope sucked deep desperate breaths in, filling her lungs. She shivered as the cold of the dream still held her in its awful grip.

“Nooo…” She wrapped her hands around him, turning a little, awkwardly and painfully. “He won’t take you. I can’t let him.” Her broken words filled the quiet room.

“Who, Hope? Who won’t take me?” She snuggled awkwardly, trying to exact more warmth for her chilled body. Xavier was her rock. Xavier was her anchor in this new world, where she was lost and alone.

“Him. Estersham.” She snuffled and hiccupped in his arms. The bare skin of his chest under her head, as he rubbed gently, warmth flowing back into aching limbs. “He wants you dead. I saw it. Blood. On the ground. You were dead.” She felt the scalding tears again, rolling down her face, dripping onto his chest, where they pooled. She knew the words made no real sense. She needed to clear her mind, but the fear held her in its desperate grip.