Unfortunately, she had no clue how to get to the hospital, or she would have abducted him and gone straight there. Instead, she followed his directions to the old industrial district. The traffic was light and it didn’t take long to reach their destination. She’d worry about getting to the hotel when that time rolled around.
He slept as she drove to his address and pulled along the end of the block. He woke as she slowed the car and directed her to the entrance. A warehouse rigged with motion sensitive cameras attached to a keypad allowed them inside, and she parked the car in the cavernous sub-level. She got out and shut the door, jumping as the slamming thud echoed in the large interior. She was breathing heavily and sweating by the time she walked him to the elevator, knowing she’d never make it up the stairwell with him slumped over her shoulders.
The elevator groaned as it took them up, and she supported him as it made its shaky way to the second floor. She couldn’t help but notice how hot he was, compared to her own body temperature. Could fever be setting in so quickly? They reached the level, and she halted the elevator, freeing herself from him to open the heavy gate.
“Welcome to my humble home,” he said, nudging her inside.
Her eyes widened as she took in his place. “Humble my ass.”
He grinned in response.
It was big enough she could yell and get back an echo. Raw iron beams extended overhead, light flooding down from huge fluorescent fixtures, revealing a sumptuous living space that encompassed the entire second floor. Blackened glass closed in the walls on all sides.
She couldn’t understand why someone would want to live with so much space. It creeped her out having a thirty foot ceiling, and she couldn’t help but keep looking up at the dark space above the lighted beams. It made her feel naked, watched. Anything could be hiding up there. No way could she live here. Not that he was asking.
“All right. Let’s get your pale ass into the bathroom so I can get you cleaned up. I want to make sure this isn’t all your blood.”
“I had no idea you cared.”
Kaeli grunted and followed him to the bathroom. He seemed better now, could walk on his own, but she had a suspicion he was acting more hurt than he was just so she’d stay near. There was some hint in his body language--something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Or maybe she just had a nasty suspicious mind.
The bathroom stood near one wall, and beyond she could see the edge of a bed. The area had been closed in, almost like a wrought iron arbor hung over the space, keeping the ceiling to a normal low. Inside, the bathroom was as obscenely large as the rest of his place. A whirlpool took up one wall--large enough for a small orgy. A shower stood off center, encased with etched glass doors sparkling clean. Everything gleamed with polish and care. A beveled mirror took up the space above a dual, marble sink, and recessed lighting edged the ceiling with a mellow glow.
Men, they always denied loving the bathroom. She could tell this one spent a lot of time in here primping. He had to with all that gorgeous blond hair.
“Who gets the job of cleaning this place?”
“I do.”
She was impressed and it showed. The man cleaned. Most bachelors lived like they were in frat houses. His mama raised him right. “All righty.
Take off your shirt.”
“So soon? We hardly know each other.”
Ha! As if any straight man wouldn’t jump at the chance. “Boy, there ain’t a shy bone in your body and you know it. You’ve been plastered to me almost the whole way here.”
He dropped down on the lip of the whirlpool, smiling slightly, his feet propped on the marble steps. She narrowed her eyes. “You ain’t acting like you’re much hurt.” That wasn’t entirely true. She could see his mouth tighten as he pulled his shirt off.
His chest and neck were smeared with dried blood, obscuring her appreciation for his beautiful muscles. At least there wasn’t any gushing like a fountain. She wasn’t so sure she could handle that right now.
Kaeli picked up a washcloth from the sink, wet it, and began wiping the grime from his neck and chest. Beyond a red welt, she couldn’t find any sign of a wound. Nothing on his back or chest either. Only old scars. She ran her fingers along his scalp, feeling for lacerations. Nothing.
The hairs rose on the back of her neck. There’d been a tear on the crook of his neck before. She’d seen it with her own eyes. Felt it. She hadn’t imagined what had happened--no one had spiked her drink. She was as lucid now and then as she ever had been in her life.
Kaeli stepped away from him, noticed a slight shiver of his skin. He watched her steadily, his eyes glittered with interest and something more ... something primal.
“What the hell is going on here?” she demanded.
“What do you think is goin’ on?”
“Don’t start playin’. I saw what happened. I saved your ass. You owe me an explanation. Who was that guy?”
He sighed and bent, removing his boots and dropping them to the floor. He peeled the black socks off his feet, tossing them at a hamper.
“Vampires,” he said after letting her stew in silence several minutes.
He was joking. Had to be. This whole damn night was one big joke.
Only he wasn’t laughing, and the dead serious expression on his face confirmed he was nuts--or telling the truth. And she was just crazy enough to almost believe him. “You mean like the Goth kind, right?”
He smiled as though humoring her. “I mean the undead, humans-are-
food kind.”
Kaeli leaned against the wall for support. “Why’d they attack you?”
The look he slanted her chilled her bones. She could almost forget he was “injured.”
“I’m a werewolf,” he said with a little growl that danced along her nerves.
Jesus! She had to get out of here. Her feet wouldn’t budge. “That doesn’t explain much.”
“My friend angered the vamps by taking a human mate marked and favored by one of their own. He’s been at it for days. I only went to Inferno to stop him, for all the good it did.”
Mates. It sounded so ... barbaric. “Don’t y’all have your own?
Mates?”
If this was a joke, she didn’t like it. Her humor tended toward the dry and sarcastic. Practical jokes were beyond her.
“Lycan women are rare,” he said, his eyes darkening.
That didn’t make any sense. Who’d have the puppies? She almost laughed, but she didn’t think he’d appreciate it. “Why don’t you make some? In the movies, all it takes is a bite or scratch--”
“No. Human women almost never survive the transformation.”
“Downer. So you take human mates?” she said, not really asking.
The whole idea was preposterous.
“Some of us do ... to ease the loneliness.” His jaw hardened, and his hands clenched into fists.
“I get the feeling you don’t agree. What about me? Would I make a good mate?”
He relaxed fractionally. “Ah, chere, you could tempt a priest to forsake his vows.” His gaze lingered on her breasts and the wide curve of her hips.
Unfamiliar heat crept up her neck. She was suddenly very aware of how close she stood to him, how much bigger he was than her--injured or not. It wasn’t a fear of being hurt that had her awareness jumping, but a fear of having too good a time and getting addicted. It wasn’t like men were beating down her door or anything. She pushed off the wall with her shoulder. “I have to go. You make a good argument, but you’re nuts.”
“No one ever believes until it bites them on the ass.” He stood, matching her stance.
“Are you coming on to me, or are you just teasing?” She narrowed her eyes. Maybe there was some truth here, unless she’d completely mistook what she’d seen. It wouldn’t be the first time some acid head had run through a barrage of .22 slugs.