Runaway Vampire(11)

“I realize you showered,” she said with irritation. “I wasn’t being literal. Just get out of my—crap!” she muttered as he jerked the steering wheel right and she lost her hold on the driver’s chair and stumbled sideways, her hip hitting the side of the table. Then he swerved back again and she tumbled to the right this time, toward the steps. He reached out and grabbed her arm, saving her from a nasty tumble, and then steered her toward the passenger chair. Mary dropped into the seat for safety’s sake, but immediately turned to scowl at the young man.

“Look,” she began, finding it difficult to be stern after he’d just saved her from possible broken bones.

“I apologize for commandeering your vehicle,” the man interrupted and Mary narrowed her eyes as she noted his accent. Italian, she thought, as he continued, “I would have just slipped out of the RV and taken flight on foot when I saw that my kidnappers had tracked us. However, I feared they might do you harm in an effort to find out where I had gone. I couldn’t just leave you to their less than tender mercies, so until we lose them, I must stay with you.”

Mary blinked as his words sank through her brain. He would have fled on foot but had stayed to ensure her safety? Well, that was somewhat reassuring. It made it less likely that she was in any danger from him . . . if it was true.

“Kidnappers?” she asked finally, vaguely aware that he was steering them out of the truck stop.

“The black van behind us,” he said grimly.

Mary glanced at the screen showing the rear camera view to see that there was indeed a black van moving up behind them. She was quite sure it was the vehicle that had been waiting to pull into the truck stop when she’d heard the RV start up. Now it was following them out of the truck stop.

“I saw them waiting to turn into the truck stop through the window when I got out of the shower,” her naked guest said quietly as he straightened out on the highway and put his foot down on the gas. The engine revved and then began to whine in complaint as it was forced to a speed it wasn’t used to or even really meant to travel at. He eased up slightly on the gas as he explained, “The men in that van kidnapped my twin brother and myself the night before last. I managed to escape and was fleeing them when you ran me over.”

Mary winced at the comment. She had run over him. She could still recall the way the RV had bumped over something in the road. And he’d had tire tracks on his chest. Yet now he was sitting here, steering her RV around as if he’d suffered little more than a minor bump or bang.

While guilt was trying to lay claim to her for running the man down, bewilderment was quickly nudging it aside. “How can you be okay now?” she asked. “I ran over you. You were covered with blood and appeared badly injured. Yet now . . .”

“The blood was mostly show. I’m fine,” he assured her and Mary’s eyes narrowed. It was exactly what everyone else had said, which seemed somehow suspicious to her. However, he did look fine so she could hardly argue the point. Besides, there were other questions she needed answered.

“All right. So you and your twin brother were kidnapped,” she said slowly, trying to imagine two of these young, strapping, gorgeous male specimens in the world. Good Lord, he was huge. It was hard to imagine two of them existed, she thought, her gaze sliding over his big brawny shoulders and barrel chest. Her eyes tried to drop lower, but she forced them back to his face. She didn’t need to look further; she’d already seen more than she wanted to and knew the man was big everywhere. “Who are these men and why did they kidnap you?”

He didn’t answer right away, his attention focused on the road as he took the ramp to the I-10. She also suspected he was taking the opportunity to try to come up with a way to avoid answering her question, but once he’d merged onto the 10 he said, “Several young . . . men and women have gone missing in the San Antonio area over the past year. Tomasso and I were helping out a task force trying to discover who was taking them and for what purpose.”

“Tomasso is your twin?” she asked before he could continue and thinking that the task force would probably be a federal one, maybe FBI if kidnapping was involved. Great, she’d run over a fed. That couldn’t be good.

“Yes.”

It took Mary a moment to realize he was agreeing that Tomasso was his twin. Sighing, she asked, “And you are?”

His eyes widened slightly and then he offered her a smile of chagrin. “I am Dante Notte. And who are you?”

“Mary Winslow,” she said quietly.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mary Winslow,” he said solemnly.