Blue Twilight (21 page)

“Damn you!”

Lou shrugged. “Stick around and finish the fight,” he said. “I dare you. You'll bleed out in the process, but what the hell do I care?”

“You know just enough about my kind to be dangerous,” the vampire all but growled.

“I know more about your kind than I ever cared to,” Lou said. “Your move, pal.”

The vamp's eyes narrowed. He nodded once. “You're a worthy adversary—for a mortal. It's going to be a shame to kill you.”

“On that we agree.”

“See to the one called Storm. I'll want her in good health when I return to take her from you. We'll finish this another time.”

Lou tilted his head in acknowledgment. And then the vampire was gone in a blur of speed that seemed to move southward along the shore and then vanish.

Lou turned toward the shore, dragging his legs through the water as he folded the sizable knife and dropped it back into his pocket. Max ran to him, wrapping him in her arms. “God, Lou, he could have killed you.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He hugged her back, then set her slightly away from him to look at her, his hand moving her hair off her face. “Jesus, Maxie, what did that bastard do to you?”

She shook her head. “It wasn't him. It was Storm.”

He lifted his brows. “Storm did all that?”

All what? she wondered. She knew she hurt pretty thoroughly, over most of her body, but she had no idea what she looked like. “Most of it. Some of it I may have gotten half tumbling down that freaking hill.”

He bent over Stormy, gathering her up into his arms. “I feel like I ought to be carrying you back to the motel, too,” he said, moving northward along the beach in search of an easier way back up.

Max kept pace right beside him. She saw him notice the little boat, resting on the shore. “That solves one problem,” he muttered. “Are you sure you're all right, Max?”

“I'm fine, Lou. Really.” She wasn't—in fact, she was hurting more and more as the adrenaline levels in her blood returned to normal and the fight-or-flight impulse faded. She put a hand on his shoulder. “I can't believe you attacked a full-fledged vamp to defend me—for the second time now. You know as well as I do how powerful they are.”

He shrugged. “I know their weaknesses, too. The way they feel pain so much more keenly than we do. The way they tend to bleed out when cut.”

She nodded. “He'll have to wrap that sucker tighter than tight if he's going to last until dawn.”

Lou made a face. “No doubt he'll manage. Then he'll heal with the day sleep, and I'll have to start from square one.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it, you won't.”

They found a path that wound up a far more gradual slope, back through the woods, and emerged beside, rather than behind, the motel. The entire way, Lou was watching her, eyeing her, worried and protective and angry.

He stopped in front of Stormy's door. Max said, “Wait, I've got a key in my room.” She'd left her own door open, so she hurried inside, wincing when the change in her gait brought a fresh stab of pain in her side. Then she grabbed her keys and went back out to open Stormy's door.

Lou carried Stormy in and laid her down on the bed. “Her nightgown's pretty wet,” he said.

“I'll get her changed.” Max went to Lou, where he stood beside the bed. “You don't have to wait, Lou. I can take it from here.”

“Bull. You look like you pissed off a wildcat, honey. You give her the once-over, and then it's your turn.”

She smiled slowly, opened her mouth to deliver the obligatory smart-ass comeback. He put a finger to her lips before she could get a word out. “Just do it, Max.”

“I'm doing it already.”

She went to Stormy's dresser and got out a T-shirt. Then back to the bed, to gently extract the sleeping woman from the wet nightgown. She put the T-shirt on her and lowered her carefully back to the mattress. That done, she got a warm washcloth from the bathroom, and wiped the dirt and sand from Stormy's legs and feet. As she did, she ran her hands over her friend's limbs, feeling for broken bones, hunting for bruises or cuts. She inspected Stormy's head carefully, too, but found no injuries. Finally she drew the covers over her and tucked her in.

“Do you think she's all right?” she asked.

Lou nodded. “She's breathing fine. Her pulse is strong. And if she was physically healthy enough to do all that damage to you, I have no doubt she's all right. It's you I'm concerned about.”

“I'm sure it's not as bad as it must look.”

“It would have to be pretty bad to be as bad as it looks, kid. Come on.”

“Back to your room?”

“That's where the first aid stuff is.” He held out a hand.

She took it, noting, as she did, the scratches down her own arms. “Hell, it's worse than I thought.”

He nodded, and when she winced on the way to the door, he drew her close to his side, his arm around her. He made sure Stormy's door was locked behind them, then led Max to his room and took her inside.

He took her all the way to the bathroom, then had her sit on the edge of the tub while he turned on the faucets and closed off the drain.

“Am I covered in dirt and sand?”

He shook his head. “No, but you're going to be covered in bruises by morning. A hot soak will ease things a little. Hell, look at your feet.” As he said it, he knelt and lifted one of them, shaking his head as he examined the sole, which felt to Maxie as if she had walked over a porcupine.

He lowered her foot again. “Strip down, take a nice soak,” he said. “Take your time.” He nodded at a plaid flannel robe that hung from the towel rack. “You can put that on when you finish. 'Kay?”

She resigned herself to bathing alone as he left the bathroom. He didn't close the door all the way, though, she noted. Just enough to give her some privacy—unwanted or otherwise.

Maxie peeled off her shirt and panties, stepped into the steaming water and sank down into its heat. It felt good, mostly, though it stung in some places. She leaned back and let the water keep running, so it would rise even higher around her shoulders. When it lapped at her neck, she finally shut it off, but only because it would
have run over otherwise. Then she closed her eyes and let the hot water soak her aches and pains away.

Thoughts were chasing their tails in her head. Lou's fearless attack on that vamp. Hell, if that didn't prove he loved her, she didn't know what would. Stormy's possession, or whatever the hell was wrong with her. It seemed to be getting worse. Max had to find a way to help her. The vampire, he was on her mind, too. She'd never seen him before, didn't know his name. But she had drawings of him. Maybe if she sent some copies around—hell, none of the vampires she knew had faxes. What was that bastard doing with two young girls, anyway? And why did he want her and Stormy to come out there…alone?

It was Stormy he wanted. She'd sensed it before, and now he'd admitted it. There had been something palpable and electric between them out there tonight.

But slowly the soothing hot water dissolved her racing thoughts and replaced them with relaxation. She closed her eyes and let the chaos melt away. Stopped thinking and just felt instead. Felt the pain soothing away. Felt the water soaking the grit gently out of her numerous scrapes and scratches. Felt the worry easing from her overworked mind.

 

Lou waited until he was sure the water must have gone cool before he went to the slightly open door and spoke her name. She didn't answer, so he peered around the door.

She lay in the water, head back against the tub, eyes
closed. One arm dangled over the side of the bathtub, smooth skin gleaming and damp, but marred with scratches and bruises that were already growing dark and purple. The ends of her hair were wet against her neck.

“Maxie?” he said, a little louder this time.

Nothing. He would have thought she was faking if he didn't know better. Not that she wouldn't pull a trick like that. She would. Wouldn't even bat a long, thick eyelash first, either. But she wasn't. Not tonight.

Sighing, he walked into the bathroom and told himself not to look at her. He took a big towel from the shelf, held it up and moved toward the tub, willing himself to keep his eyes on her face and nothing else.

It would have worked, too, if he hadn't been human, and male, and in possession of a pulse.

He looked.

She lay on her back in the water like a newborn goddess. Her knees were bent and leaning toward the back of the tub, so his view was of the wet curve of her hip and then that of her waist. Her breasts were tempting beneath the water's surface, her delicate collarbones making him want to touch, to trace. And then her neck. She had a neck to beat all necks. A neck that made a man understand why it was that vampires always went for the jugular. A hell of a lot more than blood pressure, that was for sure.

He moved closer, leaned over her kissable toes and pulled the stopper. The water began to drain, and he waited, not bothering to stop looking now that the damage was done. He figured at this point he could look his
fill and do no worse. The problem was, with Maxie, he never got his fill. Not even close.

When the water was gone, and her skin grew goose bumps and her nipples went tight with the chill, he leaned over and laid the towel over her, gathered her closer to tuck it around behind her and scooped her up out of the bathtub. She was dripping wet, and the towel didn't come together very well in the back. He snagged the bathrobe on his way out and tossed it onto the bed. Using one hand, he opened it and then laid her on it.

She opened her eyes a little but didn't move to be of any help. The towel covered her while he slid her hand into the sleeve of the bathrobe. Then he did the same with the other hand, and drew the robe closed over her front. He tied the sash, then tugged the wet towel out from under.

Maxie smiled. “Leave it to you to find a way to get a wet, naked woman out of the tub and into the bed without having to look at or hardly even touch her.”

He lifted his brows. “I tried my best, Max, but even I'm not that good.”

She blinked at him, looking first confused, then surprised. He didn't give her time to comment or speculate. “I'll get the first aid supplies.”

“I'll settle for a morphine drip and a stiff drink.”

“Can you make do with aspirin and a beer?”

She nodded. “Sounds like heaven.”

He returned to the bathroom. By the time he came back, she was lying under the covers and the robe was on the floor. She read his face, tugged the covers down
in front. “I pilfered one of your T-shirts. The robe was damp, and I was cold.”

“That's fine.”

“You didn't look like it was fine when you thought I was naked under here.”

He smirked and came to sit on the edge of the bed, then handed her two aspirin tablets and glass of water.

She swallowed the pills and set the glass aside. “What else you got?”

He grinned at her. God, Maxie could always make him laugh, no matter the circumstances. Holding up a tube of muscle rub, he said, “It's odor free, but works as well as the smelly kind.”

“You travel with muscle rub?” She speared him with her gleaming green eyes. “Is that a prop to convince me you're over the hill?”

“A handful of old injuries. They act up every now and then.”

“Yeah? What kind of injuries? You take a bullet in the line of duty?”

He slanted a look at her. “Roll over.”

She did. Lou tugged the blankets down to her hips and lifted up the T-shirt. He squeezed some of the liniment onto his palm, rubbed his hands to warm it, then began massaging it into her skin. It was warm and taut, and he loved touching it. Everything in him came alive when he ran his hands over her flesh.

He felt her relaxing into his touch, heard her sigh. “God you've got great hands,” she said. “So, you gonna tell me what happened? How you got those old injuries?”

He rubbed at a knot beneath her shoulder blade, then massaged the shoulders themselves. “I was still a rookie, set up in a speed trap on a highway, and a guy went by me doing seventy-five. So I hit the lights and siren and went after him. Pulled him over. Ran the plates. Then I got out and walked up to the driver's door.”

“And?”

She was looking over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide.

“Got nailed by a pickup the size of a tank. Felt like it, anyway.” He rubbed the small of her back.

She rolled over onto her back so quickly he found himself with his hands on her belly. It was soft, and he liked the feel of his hands there, but he took them away all the same. “Why don't I already know about this stuff, Lou? God, I've known you for—how long now?”

He shrugged. “Years.”

“Almost a decade. I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends.”

“Then why is it I'm just now finding out about major things in your life?”

“Maybe just now is the first time I felt compelled to tell you.”

She blinked at him. He stared down at her and read her face. Why now? she wanted to know. She wanted to know if it meant anything, if it was some kind of signal that he was maybe ready to kick this thing up a notch.

Well, he wasn't ready for anything of the sort, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings by telling her not to go there.

“So where's that beer you promised me?” she asked.

He was surprised as all hell. But he got up and went to the cooler on the table across the room, got out two beers, popped the tops and handed one to her. She'd propped up a bunch of pillows and was sitting upright now.

He sat down to sip his beer, then set the can down and reached for the liniment again. He knew this was the lamest, most pathetic, sorry-ass game he'd ever played, because there wasn't a reason on God's earth why she couldn't rub this stuff on her own legs. At least with her back, the need for his assistance was plausible. Barely. But this was purely gratuitous, and he knew she knew it, too.