away from the others when she realized something was wrong with me."
"That was very brave of her," Victor said solemnly. "Especially if she suspected what
you had become."
"Yes," Elvi agreed. "She's a good friend. She got me to the hotel, arranged for blood for
me, and then called Teddy and had him overnight Casey's passport to us in Mexico."
"Your daughter's?"
"Yes. Mabel wanted to fly me home right away, but my passport picture showed me
with graying hair and wrinkles…"
"And you didn't look like that anymore," he murmured.
Elvi nodded. "I don't think I would have survived if Mabel hadn't been there to take
care of everything. She kept me alive, got me home, talked to Teddy and some others
and smoothed it over so they didn't come after me with stakes." She grinned.
"Somehow she presented it to the town as a really cool adventure rather than a horror
story, and I was the tragic hero rather than a monster."
"But to yourself, you were a monster," Victor guessed quietly.
Elvi eyed him solemnly. "I nearly killed her."
"You were out of your head, Elvi. She knows that. If the situation had been reversed
and Mabel had been the one turned that day, or if it had been Casey, how would you
feel?"
Elvi released a shaky sigh. She'd carried the guilt of that episode in her heart for five
years and it wasn't going to wash away that easily. And she didn't want to think about
it. It was time for a change of subject, she decided.
"Are you ready to talk about what happened earlier between us yet?" Victor asked
suddenly, and Elvi glanced at him with alarm. This was not the topic change she'd
wanted. She was not ready to talk about the possibility of their being lifemates.
When a brief, panicked search of her mind didn't turn up any ideas for another topic
change, Elvi simply leaned forward and kissed him. In her experience, that was always
a good way to silence a man. At least, it had always worked with her husband.
It worked well with Victor too, she realized when he caught her by the waist and drew
her off the sofa to settle on his lap in the wicker chair.
Smiling against his mouth, Elvi slid her arms around his shoulders, and then stiffened
when a sudden sharp pain exploded between her shoulder blades and vibrated
outward, stealing her breath and consciousness.
"Elvi?" Victor murmured uncertainly when she went limp in his arms.
Pulling back, he used a hand to catch her face by the chin and tilt it back, frowning
when he saw her closed eyes and pale, slack face. Concern immediately claimed him. It
was one thing for her to faint at the climax of their lovemaking, that was normal for
immortals on first joining, but they'd hardly started here.
"Elvi?" he said again and gently slapped her cheek. When he got no response, Victor
started to move the hand at her back, intending to lift her and set her on the sofa so
he could go get a wet cloth or something, but he froze when his hand brushed
something hard.
Tugging her forward against his chest, Victor peered over her shoulder and down, his
heart stopping at the sight of the arrow protruding from her back.
Chapter Fifteen
"I guess this means the first arrow wasn't an accident, and answers the question of
who the target is," DJ murmured as he watched Victor pop another bag of blood to
Elvi's teeth.
Victor grunted. In truth, he'd rather have been the target himself than see Elvi like this.
He'd been frantic when he realized she'd been shot. Standing with her clasped against
his chest, he'd crossed the sunroom, glancing out at the dark yard beyond as he passed
the window. He hadn't seen anyone below, but the shooter could have been hiding in
the shadows.
Leaving the hunt for her shooter for later, Victor had carried Elvi into her room to tend
her, grateful that DJ and Mabel had chosen that moment to return home and that the
younger immortal had come in search of him.
DJ had taken one look at Elvi on the bed with the arrow in her back, and promptly
yelled for Mabel to bring blood up at once. He'd then slipped into Elvi's bathroom for
some towels, and settled on the opposite side of the bed, offering support and
encouragement as Victor began the incredibly delicate task of removing the arrow
without causing further damage.
Mabel had arrived with blood just as Victor finished pulling the arrow. Much to his
relief, Mabel hadn't gone into hysterics. She'd been upset and demanded to know
what had happened, but hadn't gone about shrieking or fainting or anything of that ilk.
Modern women, it seemed, were a sturdy bunch.
"Her wound is healing," Victor muttered as he switched blood bags. He'd already given
her four bags and her wound was obviously closing. At least it certainly looked smaller