"Not… for you."
"He's alive because of you. So that's everything." The blonde reached out as if she were going to smooth the patient's hair, but then took her hand back as he flinched. "Let us care for you. Just this once."
The patient looked across the room at Red Sox. When Red Sox nodded, the patient cursed and closed his eyes. Then opened his mouth…
Holy shit. His pronounced canines had elongated. Sharply pointed before, now they were positively fanglike.
Okay, clearly this was a dream. Yup. Because that just didn't happen to cosmetically enhanced teeth. Ever.
As the patient bared his "fangs," the man with the multicolored hair stepped in front of Red Sox, braced both hands on the wall, and leaned in until their chests almost touched.
But then the patient shook his head and turned away from the wrist. "Can't."
"I need you," Red Sox whispered. "I'm sick from what I do. I need you."
The patient fixated on Red Sox, a powerful yearning flashing in his diamond eyes. "Only for… you… not me."
"For both of us."
"All of us," the blond woman interjected.
The patient took a deep breath, then—Christ!—bit into the blonde's wrist. The strike was fast and decisive as a cobra's, and as he locked on, the woman jumped, then exhaled with what seemed like relief. Across the room, Red Sox trembled all over, looking bereft and desperate while the one with the multicolored hair blocked his way without coming into contact with him.
The patient's head started to move in a rhythm, as if he were a baby nursing at a breast. But he couldn't be drinking from there, could he?
Yeah, the hell he couldn't.
Dream. This was all a dream. A loony-bin dream. Wasn't it? Oh, God, she hoped it was. Otherwise she was stuck in some kind of Gothic nightmare.
When it was done, her patient eased back onto the pillows, and the woman licked herself where his mouth had been.
"Rest now," she said, before turning to Red Sox. "Are you okay?"
He shook his head back and forth. "I want to touch you, but I can't. I want in you, but… I can't."
The patient spoke up. "Lie with me. Now."
"You can't handle it," Red Sox said in a reedy, hoarse voice.
"You need it now. I'm ready."
"The hell you are. And I have to lie down. I'll be back later after I have a rest—"#p#分页标题#e#
The door flew open again, light spilling in from what looked like a hallway, and a huge man with black hair down to his waist and wraparound sunglasses on stalked in. This was trouble. His cruel face suggested he might get off on torturing people, and the glare in his eyes made her wonder if he wanted to start in on someone right now. Hoping to avoid his notice, she slammed her lids shut and tried not to breathe.
His voice was as hard as the rest of him. "If you weren't already assed out, I'd put you on the ground myself. What the fuck are you thinking, bringing her here?"
" 'Scuse us," Red Sox said. There was a shuffle of feet and the door shut.
"I asked you a question."
"Supposed to come with," the patient said.
"Supposed to? Supposed to? Are you out of your goddamned mind?"
"Yes… but not 'bout her."
Jane cracked an eye open and watched through her lashes as the mammoth guy glanced at the one with all the fabulous hair. "I want everyone in my study in a half hour. We need to decide what the hell to do with her."
"Not… without me…" the patient said, his tone getting stronger.
"You don't get a vote."
The patient shoved his palms into the mattress and sat up, even though it made his arms shake. "I get all the votes when it comes to her."
The towering man pointed a finger at the patient. "Fuck you."
From out of nowhere, Jane's adrenaline kicked in.
Dream or no dream, she should to be counted in this happy conversation. Straightening in the chair, she cleared her throat.
All eyes snapped to her.
"I want out of here," she said in a voice she wished were less breathy and more ass-kicking. "Now."
The big man put a hand to the bridge of his nose, popped up the wraparounds, and rubbed his eyes. "Thanks to him, that's not an immediate option. Phury, take care of her again, would you?"
"Are you going to kill me?" she asked in a rush.
"No," the patient said. "You're going to be fine. You have my word."
For a split second she believed him. Which was nuts. She didn't know where she was, and these men were clearly thugs—
The one with the beautiful hair stepped in front of her. "You're just going to rest for a little bit more."