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“Screw that,” Holly spat, and without thinking about it, grabbed him by the hair with one hand and pulled him back to rest against the driver’s seat. At the same time, she raised her other hand to her face and ripped into her wrist. If Justin could turn her to save her life, she could turn James, Holly thought grimly as she quickly placed her gushing wrist against James’s gaping mouth. She wasn’t sure if it was her yanking on his hair, or what, but James woke up enough to open his eyes and peer at her dazedly. He then choked and tried to back away from her wrist, but she held him still.

“Swallow,” she ordered grimly. “We may be having problems, James, but I’m not going to have your death on my hands for the next millennia or however long I live, so swallow.”

Much to her relief he did.

Holly kept her wrist to his mouth until James passed out again, and then took it away to see that it had stopped bleeding. The nanos had sealed it, she noted and wondered if they were doing the same to her stomach. If so, she might be able to take the paper towel out now. But Holly had other matters to concern herself with just then, and so she left the paper towel and instead turned her attention to the metal crumpled around her husband’s legs. Holly eyed it briefly. She was obviously stronger now that Justin had turned her. She’d snapped that branch like a twig when she wouldn’t have been able to before the turn, but breaking a branch and unbending the metal from around James’s legs were not the same thing. However, she didn’t see much choice here.

Straightening, Holly opened her door and got out to walk around the car. When she reached the front, she braced both hands on the uncrumpled passenger side of the hood and shoved with all her might. Much to her amazement, the car rolled back under the effort. Her confidence getting a big boost from that success, Holly moved to examine the driver’s side door and then glanced into the car with surprise when James stirred. She’d thought he’d be down for the count, but he’d thrown himself back against the car seat, his face a rictus of agony. When he then began to moan in a loud voice, she quickly set to work on the door.

Holly didn’t know if the blood she’d given him had perked him up a bit, or if the turn itself was already causing him pain, but James was soon screaming his head off as she worked to free him. She withstood it for a good ten minutes, before she, who had never hit anyone in her life, stopped what she was doing and punched her husband, knocking him out. It wasn’t because his agonized screams were driving her crazy, which they were, but Holly just couldn’t bear that he was suffering such agony. His being unconscious, to her, seemed a kindness. Unfortunately, the pain didn’t let him stay under long and ten minutes later she was knocking him out again.

Sighing with relief when James fell silent again, Holly finished unbending the last of the metal pinning him in the car and then pulled her husband out of the front seat and set him on the grass at the roadside so that she could get a look at his legs. The damage was horrifying. His left leg had been nearly amputated with just a bit of tendon remaining attached at the knee. She was amazed that it had come with him when she’d pulled him out of the vehicle. His right leg was a little better. At least it was still fully attached, but it looked like someone had run it over with a lawn roller, crushing all the bones.

Mouth tightening, Holly pulled her jacket off and quickly wrapped it around both of his legs and then tied the sleeves together, hoping this way to keep from breaking the small tendon and bit of flesh that kept the lower left leg attached. She then scooped him into her arms and stood to peer up and down the road.

James had really picked a doozy when he’d chosen to use this back road. Not a single car had passed since their crash and while Holly was grateful no one had come along to see what she could do, she could use a car about now to stop and give them a lift.

Turning to the right, she started jogging up the street, hoping she’d find a busier road at the end of it and someone who could drive them home. She was nearly to a cross street as unlit as the one she was on when Holly noted the driveway on their right. Pausing, she turned to look around, relieved when she spotted the golden lights up ahead. It was a house, and someone was home. There was also a van in the driveway. Holly hurried up the driveway to the house and shifted James in her arms to hit the doorbell.

A moment later the door opened and an overweight man in a wife beater grinned out at her as he crumpled an empty beer can in his hand. “Well, hello little lady. What can I do for a pretty little thing like you?”

Holly didn’t waste time on niceties, she merely slipped into the man’s thoughts and took control of him. Within minutes he’d fetched his car keys and was opening the back door of his van for her. She immediately crawled inside with James and sat down cross-­legged before arranging James half in her arms and half on the metal floor. Then she glanced to her chauffeur, Earl.

“Get in here, Earl, and close the door,” she instructed. Holly wasn’t sure if her control would hold if he was out of her sight, so didn’t risk sending him around the vehicle to get in. Instead, she made him climb through the van to the driver’s seat and gave him her address with instructions to drive there.

Once he’d started the engine and begun to back out of the driveway, Holly relaxed a little and grimaced as hunger immediately roared up inside her. It had been gnawing at her since the accident, but she’d managed to ignore it while she struggled to free her husband. Now though, she had nothing to distract her and it was making itself known, with a vengeance. Grinding her teeth together, she looked around the interior of the van. It looked like a serial killer’s holiday vehicle. Rope, duct tape, spades, and various implements that could have been used to torture someone hung from a pegboard strapped to one side wall, while a narrow cot was up against the other behind her.

Holly considered laying James on the bed and maybe snacking a bit on Earl, but then thought again. Feeding off the man driving the vehicle just didn’t seem like a good idea. And, she doubted this could be considered an emergency since it was only ten minutes to their home and the blood that waited in the fridge there. She could survive ten minutes. Besides, the bed didn’t look very clean. James was fine where he was, she decided, and glanced to their driver, slipping into his thoughts to make sure he stayed on course.

Ten minutes later the van pulled to a stop in their driveway. Holly had Earl get out and open the side door, and then gave him her keys to unlock the front door. Once he’d done that, she immediately scooped up James and slid out to hurry into the house with him. Unsure whether she’d need help or not, Holly had Earl close and lock the front door and then follow her as she carried James straight up to their bedroom. She ignored the man as she laid her husband on the bed, then straightened and rushed out of the room, barking, “Keep an eye on him.”

The laundry room had seemed a good place to keep the refrigerator of blood when they’d delivered it, but as she rushed down to the main floor, Holly thought the bedroom would have been handier. Rather than grab a ­couple bags and have to return later, she unplugged the refrigerator, picked it up and hurried back through the house with it.

She would plug it back in, in the bedroom and—­

Holly’s thoughts died abruptly as she entered the bedroom and saw that James had Earl pinned to the bed and was tearing into his throat.

Cursing, she dropped the refrigerator and hurried forward.

“Bad! Bad James!” she yelled, smacking him in the back of the head.

When that had no effect, Holly caught him by the shoulders and pulled her husband off Earl. It was a lot harder than she’d expected. James was damned strong for a man whose legs were crushed and who’d probably lost more than half the blood in his body, if not almost all of it. Finally getting him off of Earl, Holly forced him onto his back and then knelt on his chest and caught at his arms to hold him down as he turned his attention to trying to bite her now. Not with fangs, she noted, he didn’t seem to have those yet, he was gnashing and biting at her with his mortal teeth, and growling like a dog as he did it.