Hungry for You (28 page)

Alex grimaced, thinking that was pretty obvious, and then she reached the door and suddenly felt whatever power had been making her feet move disappear.

“I think you can handle it on your own,” Marguerite said quietly. “I’ll wait for you out here.”

Alex glanced back to the woman, happy to find she was able to. When Marguerite smiled encouragingly, she swung back and opened the door. Once safely inside, she pushed the door closed and then leaned weakly against it. She was trapped in the lion’s den and pretty much done for. It seemed obvious she wasn’t going to escape from these people when they could control her. Besides, even if she escaped from the bathroom and the house, she knew about the security here, the high electrified fences, motion-sensor cameras, and armed men. She wasn’t going anywhere. She wouldn’t even have tried without Sam.

A shout stirred Cale from the hell he was suffering, and for one moment he feared more mortals had come along to find him. That would not be a good thing. He was weak, and in agony, and just not feeling very sociable at the moment. Aside from that, he was out of blood, needed more, and didn’t think he could control himself as he had the first time.

His first instinct when he’d seen the car rolling toward him was to slip into the mind of the driver and makethem keep going, but then he’d glanced to the copse of trees, noted the distance, and changed his mind. He would never have been able to drag himself that distance, so he’d taken control of the driver and made him stop, which he suspected he’d been doing anyway, and then he’d had the two occupants of the vehicle get out and come to him. Much to Cale’s relief it had been a couple of men in their early twenties, healthy and strong.

Once the men stood silent and still before him, Cale had collected the last two bags from the cooler, tucked them into his coat, and then made them carry him to the copse of trees. Between the snow and the uneven ground, the going had been awkward for them. It had also taken longer than he’d hoped, and by the time they’d laid him in the cover of the trees, the healing had set in with a vengeance. Cale had only had a thin thread of control over himself. The only thing that had kept him from attacking one or both of the men was the knowledge that he had the two bags of blood tucked inside his coat. He’d ripped into the bags the moment they set him down, even while sending them hurrying back to their vehicle with the thought to forget about the mangled car and him. They’d reached their vehicle and torn away just as he’d finished the last bag of blood and begun to convulse on the forest floor.

“Cale!”

Not mortals then, he thought on a sigh, as he recognized Bricker’s voice. He tried to shout “here,” but what came out was a parched croak. It didn’t matter. He’d apparently been heard because Bricker suddenlyappeared beside him, a tall silhouette in the dawning light weaving through the leafless trees.

“Jesus, you’re in bad shape,” the man said grimly, kneeling to look him over. When his gaze shifted to Cale’s legs, he cursed. “Did the accident do this?”

Cale grunted, and the other man turned to glance at his face.

“I saw the tracks. You left one hell of a trail of blood.”

That explained why he wasn’t further along in his healing, he thought grimly. He’d been losing the blood as quickly as he could consume it. There were probably so many burst veins in his legs they couldn’t close quick enough to prevent it. It meant he’d need a hell of a lot more blood. The best bet was probably to soak him in a tub of it.

“Russell and Francis are getting rid of the trail and taking care of the car,” Bricker informed him. “They’d just finished their shift when I was leaving, so I recruited them to come help.”

Cale grunted again.

“There were two sets of footprints. Who did you get to carry you out here?”

“Mortals,” Cale managed to get out.

“Where are the bodies?” Bricker asked dryly, bending to slip his arms under him.

Cale just groaned in agony as Bricker lifted him off the ground.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Bricker said sympathetically. “There’s blood in the SUV and I’ll have you back at the house in no time.""Alex,” Cale managed to get out as they headed out of the trees.

“She’s at the house. She’s fine. A little crazy, maybe,” he added with amusement. “But fine.”

Cale would have liked to ask what that meant but just didn’t have the energy for it. His eyes drifted closed and he fell gratefully into unconsciousness.

Fifteen

Alex glanced in the mirror as she washed her hands
and paused as she saw her reflection. She looked utterly ridiculous with the foil over her head … and it hadn’t even worked. She ripped the silver cap off. Between that and her attempt to “spoon” him to death, it was a wonder Bricker hadn’t killed himself laughing, she thought with disgust as she tossed the foil in the garbage. She was definitely a bad Buffy.

Sighing, Alex dried her hands and forced herself to return to the bedroom. She really would have liked to hide away in the small room forever, but it wouldn’t accomplish much.

Marguerite was seated in one of two chairs at the opposite end of the room. She smiled when Alex appeared, and then patted the arm of the chair next to hers. “Come sit down.”

Alex didn’t move. “I’d really rather not”.

”Oh, come now,” she chided. “I don’t bite.”

Alex snorted. “You’re a vampire.”

“No, I’m not,” Marguerite assured her solemnly. “I am an immortal.”

She glanced at her uncertainly. “What is that?”

“You’ll have to come over here to find out,” she said firmly. “I do not wish to shout across the room.”

Alex hesitated another moment before moving reluctantly to the chair. Squeezing herself into the far side of it, as far away from Marguerite as she could get, she eyed her warily and waited.

“First of all, you have nothing to fear,” Marguerite assured her quietly. “No one here would hurt you. We do not, and in fact are not allowed to, feed on mortals. We consume bagged blood.”

Alex felt some of the tension seeping from her, but then stiffened again and said, “Sam—”

“We were not hurting her,” Marguerite assured her firmly. “You must have noticed how she was thrashing and convulsing on the bed. We were trying to keep her still to prevent her causing harm to herself.” She tilted her head and added, “Surely you saw the love and concern on Mortimer’s face? He would never allow harm to come to her.”

Alex frowned. She had noticed, and it had confused her at the time. “What’s wrong with her?”

Marguerite hesitated for a moment, and then said, “I think before I explain that, you need to understand who and what we are.”

“I know what you are,” Alex said stiffly. “You’re vampires.”

“We are
not
vampires,” Marguerite said firmly. “We are immortals.”

“You have fangs,” Alex said dryly, and then frowned and added. “At least, Cale did.”

“Immortals all have fangs,” Marguerite said calmly.

“Right,” Alex said with a scowl. “You all have fangs and consume blood to survive but you aren’t vampires?”

Marguerite clucked her tongue impatiently. “Yes, I know there are similarities. The mythological vampires have fangs and feed off the living. However, they are also supposed to be the cursed, soulless reanimated dead. And I assure you I am neither cursed nor soulless. I am very definitely also not dead.”

“Then what—?”

“I will explain. But you may find the explanation difficult to accept,” she warned.

“More difficult than vampires really existing?” Alex asked dryly. “Go ahead. I think I can handle anything right now.”

“I wish you would stop calling us that unpleasant word. It’s really quite distressing,” Marguerite said unhappily, but continued, “You’ve heard of Atlantis?”

Alex raised her eyebrows. “Yes. An ancient, mythical land that was supposedly more advanced than the rest of the world or something.”

“Yes … well it was not just myth. It was a country on the tip of a continent, surrounded by ocean on three sides and cut off from its neighbors by a mountain range that made travel difficult. It was isolated, and
was
far more advanced scientifically than the rest ofthe world, to the point where the scientists had begun to work with what are now called nanos. It seems one of these scientists thought they could be a medical aid and created nanos specifically programmed to repair injuries and combat illness in the human body.

“His idea was that these nanos could be shot directly into the bloodstream, which would carry them throughout the body and take them wherever they needed to go to accomplish this. For that reason, he designed them to use blood to propel themselves as well as regenerate themselves so that they could accomplish even the largest task like fighting off cancer in a body riddled with it.”

Alex raised her eyebrows and asked with disbelief, “And when was this? ”

“Well before the arrival of Christ, dear,” Marguerite said solemnly.

“Okay, that’s a bit wild,” Alex acknowledged. “But what has that to do with vamp—immortals,” she corrected herself at the last moment.

Marguerite smiled at her for making the effort. “Well, these nanos were supposed to dissolve and leave the body when finished with their work. However, there are countless illnesses and injuries a body may suffer, and programming individual groups of nanos for each such ailment would have been impossible, so he, or they really,” she interrupted herself to say, “because while one man started the work, others finished it.

“But anyway, to avoid that problem, the nanos were simply programmed to repair any damage, fight any illness, and keep the host body at its peak condition. Unfortunately, the body always has something to repair. The sun, the environment, even the passage of time kills off cells and causes damage that the nanos see as something that must be repaired.”

“They never dissolve and leave,” Alex realized.

Marguerite nodded. “And they use blood to power and regenerate themselves as well as to make repairs. More blood than a mortal body can create.”

“The need for blood,” she murmured.

She nodded again. “In Atlantis, they combated the problem by giving transfusions to those who had been given the nanos before the flaws were discovered. However, when Atlantis fell—”

“How did Atlantis fall?” Alex asked curiously.

“I believe it was an earthquake. Whatever the case, Atlantis basically sank into the ocean.”

“Like they say California will do someday,” Alex murmured.

“Yes.” Marguerite said, “And when that happened, pretty much the only survivors were those with nanos in them. They climbed over the mountains to rejoin the rest of the world and found themselves in a muchless-advanced society. There were no more doctors or transfusions.”

Alex grimaced. “That must have been a bit of a shock.”

Marguerite nodded. “It was apparently a very rough time for most of them. They still needed more blood than they could produce, but now had no way to get it. Some simply died, but in others, the nanos sort of forced them to evolve to adapt to this new habitat. Theysuddenly sprouted retractable fangs to get the blood they needed.”

Eyes narrowing, Alex snapped, “I thought you said you didn’t bite and couldn’t feed on mortals.”

“Yes, well, I should have said we don’t bite
anymore.
But we cannot feed off mortals now that there is bagged blood, it’s against our laws. An immortal who breaks that law can be executed.”

“Can be? Or is?” Alex asked dryly.

“Exceptions are made in emergency cases when an immortal is in terrible need without bagged blood available,” Marguerite explained. “But otherwise, if they are simply feeding off mortals because they want, they will be found rogue and put down.”

Alex thought of Cale. He’d definitely been in terrible need … and she’d taken the cooler of bagged blood away. If he couldn’t get to it, and a passerby stopped, would he be forgiven for feeding off the person?

“He would be more likely to control the person and have him bring the cooler to him,” Marguerite said quietly.

“I think he’s too weak to do that; otherwise, he simply would have made me bring it back,” Alex said, and frowned as she realized he really had been controlling her this last week as she’d feared.

“An immortal is never too weak to control a mortal,” Marguerite assured her. “Cale did not control you because he couldn’t. He can neither control nor read you, Alex. That’s what makes you special.”

“You can control me,” she pointed out, not believing her.

“Yes, as can any immortal on this property who wishes to.” Marguerite shrugged. “But that is because you are not a life mate to any of us. Cale’s inability to either read or control you is what makes you a possible life mate for him.”

“What is a life mate?” Alex asked at once.

Marguerite hesitated. “I think I will leave that to Cale to explain.”

“Why?”

Marguerite shrugged. “It is his place. In truth, it would have been better for him to explain all of this to you, but I did not think you would be willing to listen to it from him.”

Alex frowned with dissatisfaction and stared at the other woman for a moment, and then sighed, and said, “So the nanos gave you fangs and the ability to control and read minds to help you feed after the fall. What else—”

“Not me. I was only born in 1265 A.D.,” Marguerite interrupted quietly. “And I was born mortal and later given the nanos.”

Alex shrugged that away. “What else can you people do?”

“Do?” she asked uncertainly.

“Do you turn into bats and fly or—” Alex paused. The woman was laughing softly.

“No,” Marguerite assured her with amusement. “While I think it would be lovely to be able to fly, I don’t think I would care to be a bat.” Shaking her head at the idea, she explained, “The nanos only increased the natural abilities all humans have. They were programmed to keep their hosts at their peak and needed blood to do it, so they made their hosts better able to achieve that. They made their hosts stronger, faster, and increased their sense of smell and vision. Immortals also gained incredible night vision so that they could hunt at night and avoid the damaging rays of the sun during daylight.”