One of the conditions of his stay at Archangel was that he would remain under her supervision at all times. It was bad enough that he had left the room earlier and people had seen him in the hall without her. If the doctors who had been present in the meeting caught her breaking the rules, leaving him unsupervised, they would be swift to file a report and take over. She didn’t want to think about what would happen then. The image of Loren strapped down to an operating table disturbed her and her heart missed a beat.
Loren flicked her a glance and she cursed the concern in it and the way it soothed her, reassuring her silently that he was there with her and making her feel that he wanted to comfort her or discover the source of her momentary switch in feelings so he could make it go away.
“I still do not see why we must run for thirty minutes,” Bleu said, his mask muffling his voice.
“Enough complaining,” Loren snapped and misstepped, almost coming off the machine. He growled and found his balance again, regaining his rhythm.
It had been almost thirty minutes. There were seconds left on the clock now but she wasn’t sure if Loren would make it. His heart rate was making her woozy and she could feel his fatigue, and that he was pushing himself to make it to the end of the session.
Bleu still showed absolutely no sign of fatigue or stress.
The effects of the bond to her were startling and she had a strange urge to apologise to Loren, feeling responsible for how much weaker he was now because of her.
Bleu bitched again and then fell silent. Olivia looked up to find him staring at the corridor. She frowned and shifted her gaze there, and found Sable peering in, waving at her.
A touch of purple entered Bleu’s eyes, swirling amongst the green, and Olivia half-expected his ears to go pointy, and not because of rage.
Sable opened the door to the fitness room and smiled sheepishly, her golden eyes shining in that way that always told Olivia the huntress was up to no good.
“What is it now?” Olivia said, not giving her friend a chance to come up with some terrible excuse or flimsy lie. Sable loved bending the rules and often tried to get Olivia to help her push them as far as she could.
Sable brushed her long black hair back from her face and pulled her best puppy-dog eyes. “My old leg injury is acting up and I just need some meds. I know you have the good painkillers. Hook me up. Come on, Liv.”
Sable always pulled out the big guns whenever her nightly hunts in the city were under threat. Innocent looks and pet names were her favourite weapons to use on Olivia.
“I don’t want the bastards to take me off rota again.”
Olivia sighed. “Sable, you’re meant to rest an injury when it flares up, not aggravate it.”
Sable scuffed the floor with her heavy army boots and shrugged. “I know, but I lost track of some prey last night and if I don’t bag and tag him tonight, he might kill again.”
The running machines beeped. Loren stopped and slid off the belt, barely keeping himself upright as his bare feet hit the floor without a sound. He panted hard and Olivia breathed slowly, focusing on levelling out her heartbeat and hoping it would help him, and would stop Sable from eyeing her suspiciously.
The sweat breaking out across her brow and her flushed cheeks probably looked weird to her friend. Could she say she was sick and running a fever? She would have to come up with a solid excuse if Sable asked what was wrong with her. Her friend wouldn’t quit until she had confessed all otherwise, and she wasn’t sure how she would react to the truth. She would probably try to kill Loren to free her from the unwanted bond.
Bleu casually slid off the machine, not at all out of breath and not a drop of sweat on him.
Olivia picked up one of the bottles of water on the desk and offered it to Loren. He curled his lip at it and took a white towel from the stack on the bench instead.
Sable stared at them.
Bleu rubbed a towel across his overlong black-blue hair and Olivia noticed his ears were slightly pointed.
He spoke to Loren again, using their language. They shared a deep, tense conversation as Loren dried himself off and then broke apart. Loren approached her, his heart steady now and breathing back under control.
“We will hunt the vampire.” He used that commanding tone again, the one that brooked no argument. Olivia doubted it would work on Sable. She had a problem with authority. It was the reason she had joined Archangel.
“Excuse me?” Sable straightened to her full, but lacking, five feet nine inches. Loren ignored her. Bleu came to stand behind him, backing him up. Sable planted her hands on her hips. “It’s my target. I tracked him for weeks... and how the heck did you know he was a vampire?”
Bleu grinned. “You reek of bloodsucker.”