The leather sagged in his hand. "Change your mind, you just say." He glanced over his shoulder. "How's it goin' over there?"
Low voices fired back and forth for a moment, as if the pair by the car was arguing. Finally, one of them replied, "Fine, but he's insisting I not let him up."
"Do what he says."
"Is Jakob okay?" she whispered, half hating herself for caring. Half dying to know.
The blond in front of her turned back and frowned. "Jakob?"
She nodded, gesturing to the other men, er, vampires.
"I'm Jakob."
Dizziness washed over her. She clearly had no idea what the hell was going on. "I asked his name...before...at the gallery. He said Jakob."
Jakob-the real Jakob, apparently-tilted his head. "I think he was calling me, not answering you." He thumbed over his shoulder. "My brother's name is Henrik."
Brother?
Her feet totally numb from the icy ground, Kaira felt her knees turning to mush. The earlier fever returned with a vengeance, whipping through her like a flash fire. Way she felt, she couldn't process all these details. There was only one thing she wanted-needed-to know. "Are you going to kill me?"
"Nei."
He said it so plainly, so matter-of-factly, that something inside told her to believe it.
The smallest sense of safety returned to her and right behind it came a tsunami of post-adrenaline letdown. "Help," she said a split second before her legs gave out.
Somehow Jakob was there. He caught her against his chest. "Okay. I have you," he said.
Good as he smelled, he didn't incite the cravings she'd felt a few moments before. The comparison was as unwelcome as it was unbidden.
Growling erupted, fierce and sudden. Kaira looked up in time to see Henrik take the man who had been holding him and flip him over the hood of the car.
He spun and stalked toward them, glaring at Jakob, who tucked her under his arm and tugged her back a full step. Her heart rate kicked up again, but the fright that came over her was less for herself than for the vampire holding her upright.
Jakob held out a hand. The other vampire scrambled up off the sidewalk and approached from the side.
Kaira peered around Jakob's chest and gasped. "His eyes," she said to herself. Bright, piercing blue, like a cloudless sky on the most beautiful, spring day. Totally captivating.
"Henrik," Jakob rasped. "Your eyes have changed."
Confusion played over Henrik's aggressive expression.
"Jesus, brother, your face-the cuts have all healed." His voice was awash in wonder.
"I'll be damned," the third vampire said.
Henrik paused and ran his hand over his cheek, his lips, his neck. His azure eyes went wide.
Kaira glanced between the three of them, unsure what explained their sudden change in demeanor. All the aggression and tension flowed out of them.
"How?" Henrik said. "It takes me days to heal..."
His words hung on the night air for a long moment, and then three pairs of preternatural eyes turned toward her.
Chapter 5
Healed. His face had healed. Henrik cut his gaze to his knuckles, but he already knew what he would find. Now that he paid attention, the swollen throb from moments before was gone. His eyes confirmed the truth of it. She'd healed his wounds from the fight with the Soul Eater.
If mere moments of consuming the sweet blood circulating through Kaira's veins could restore his ability to heal, what would a good and proper feeding do?
Henrik stared at her for a long moment. Wonder and indecision and dangerous, dangerous hope held him rooted in place despite the magnetic draw of her blood.
And then all the little details of her penetrated the noise between his ears.
Busted lip. Bloodied throat. Ruined clothing.
He wasn't sure which of them looked worse.
Her. After all, his wounds were healed.
"Go get the truck," he said to Lars. The warrior nodded and disappeared.
Fierce longing speared through him. Not just to drink more, though that was there with a greedy vengeance. But also to heal her in return. His right hand prickled and he rubbed it roughly against his thigh.
He glared at Jakob, at how much of his brother's body touched hers. Possessive rage rose up and demanded attention. Only the certainty that the other male's presence ensured she'd survive riding with Henrik on the thirty-minute trip off the island and back to their mountain citadel kept him from acting on the territorial instinct.
The king cleared his throat. "Kaira, we need to get you off the streets. There are more of them out tonight. We will take care of you."
"Them?" she said in a weak voice.
"Like the ones who attacked you."
Her brow furrowed. "You attacked me."
The truth of the words sucker punched him. Why would she see any difference between him and the Soul Eaters? The comparison was no more than he sometimes wondered about himself. Still cut him to the bone, though. What the hell had he been thinking, believing he was fit to come out among humans tonight?
He gave a nod. "Fair enough."
"My brother is-"
"Not going to stand here and debate." The glare he shot Jakob was full of warning. He didn't need him to plead his case. "I've put you in enough danger this evening."
"Just let me go, then," she said.
Her plaintive tone touched softer parts of him, parts that wanted to do nothing more than please her, parts he didn't know he had. But his body refused to let her go. Not when a few thick swallows of her blood had done more for him than any other woman's blood had in years.
So, what's the endgame here, Henrik? Chain her up and use her whenever you want to keep you alive?
Jakob's voice yanked him from his inner turmoil. "You've seen too much."
"What?" She struggled against Jakob and pushed out from under his arm. "Nei. I've seen nothing." As Henrik watched, she walked backward into the street, clutching her arms around herself tight and shaking her head. "I won't say anything. Who would believe me?"
The farther away she moved, the stronger the magnetic pull to follow her tugged at something deep in his chest. He gave in to the urge with slow, methodical steps. Her pale skin, dilated eyes and multiple injuries all spoke of the degree of trauma she'd experienced tonight. How could he inflict more?
A truck rounded the corner, headlights swinging over the ground behind her. The backlighting threw a golden halo around her. She whirled toward the sound of the approaching engine and moaned.
Suddenly, all the frightened tension left her body. And then she was freefalling straight backward.
Henrik launched himself toward her and caught her in his arms before her soft body made contact with the cold, hard ground.
Jakob appeared right next to him, stance clearly ready to intervene.
"I've got her, brother," the king said, voice full of gravel.
"Are you sure-"
"I've fucking got her." He rose, cradling her in his arms. Heat roared off her. "Jesus, she's burning up." He shot to the Range Rover's backseat. Lars already had the door open. Henrik climbed inside and slid to the middle, Kaira still in his lap, her feverish heat soaking into his chest.
Jakob stood in the open door watching, his expression full of hesitation.
"Let's go." His brother inhaled as if to speak, and damn if Henrik didn't know what he was going to say. "Goddamnit, I'm fine. Let's go."
Jakob closed the rear door and climbed into the passenger seat.
Amazing thing was, Henrik did in fact have it under control-or what passed for control for him. The bloodlust was there, causing his fangs to throb so hard he had to keep applying the counter-pressure of his tongue against the sharp points to offer some relief. And the hunger was there, squeezing his gut and burning his throat. And the monster still paced at the gates of his mind. And all three threatened to pull him under the surface and suffocate him in the evil of the demon growing stronger within him.
So what stopped him?
She stirred against his chest, and he drew his gaze to her face. Young. Pretty, with her soft blond hair and high cheekbones and inviting pink lips. Beautiful, actually. He stroked his hand over her forehead. Dry heat blazed off her skin. What was wrong with her? Had she been feverish when he'd drunk from her? Her succulent taste. The quenching of his eternal thirst. The way her soft body cushioned all his hard angles. These things came readily to mind. But not whether she'd had a temperature.