His mouth tightened as he recalled the impact of several tons of metal and wood rolling over his stomach and lower chest. He’d actually heard his ribs snapping and the pop as one of his lungs had burst. He hadn’t lost consciousness though, and when the first tires had cleared him, he’d instinctively tried to roll out of the way of the back wheels, but dazed and shocked and gasping for breath at that point, he’d merely got turned around under the vehicle so that the back right tires had rolled over one of his ankles. A fortuitous event really, because had he got any farther in the direction he’d been moving, the back left tires would have rolled over his head. Better to have a crushed ankle than a crushed head, he thought dryly, and then let out a short breath and glanced toward where his feet were caught against the wall. He just as quickly looked away again, unwilling to focus too closely on just how badly mangled his one lower leg was.
Damn, he was a mess, he acknowledged. So much so that he had to wonder how he’d managed to even get himself into the RV. The moments after the accident were a bit muddled in his head. He recalled his panic over his pursuers catching up to him. It had been enough to make him drag himself to his feet.
He’d been desperate to reach the driver’s door and gain help. Only there had been no driver’s door, just a large window high up showing nothing but an empty cab. He’d been considering that with some confusion when he’d heard a door slam closed on the other side of the vehicle. Dante had immediately started to hobble around the front of the RV when a dog had suddenly appeared beside him out of the darkness. Tail wagging and sniffing curiously, the furry fellow had seemed friendly enough as he trailed him around the vehicle, but when the owner had called out, the dog had raced off into the darkness along the RV.
Dante had tried to call out then, hoping for help, but he was barely getting any oxygen into his one remaining lung. He wasn’t even sure how he was moving, but shouting was out of the question, so he’d simply continued around the RV. He’d spotted the flashlight moving over the road behind the RV as he came around the front of the vehicle, but it had seemed miles away in his condition. Then he’d spotted the door on this side of the vehicle and it had seemed like the gates of heaven. Dante had opened the door, and dragged himself up the steps. He’d paused then and glanced toward the flashlight by the back of the RV again. The driver had been in view at that point and he’d been surprised to note that it was a woman.
He’d tried to slip into her thoughts and take control of her, hoping to urge her back into the RV and get them moving, but he hadn’t been able to either read or control her. Realizing he was too weak to perform what should have been an easy task, Dante had decided discretion was the better part of valor here and had continued on into the RV, easing the door closed just as the German shepherd had rushed back toward him.
It had been dark inside, but his eyes did well in darkness and the moment he’d spotted the bed toward the back of the RV, Dante had headed for it. He’d made his way to the soft berth, relieved to find that there was a door to the small room. He’d managed to find the strength to pull it closed, and then had collapsed on the bed with relief. He must have passed out then, though probably not for long, but the next moment he was tumbling from the bed to the floor as the RV accelerated.
He’d waited stiffly, afraid his pursuers may have overcome the driver and were now in charge of the vehicle, but then he’d heard the woman call the dog to her. Her voice had been a little tense when she spoke, but not the terror stricken type of tense he was sure he would have heard had she found herself in the hands of the captors he’d just escaped. It seemed he’d eluded his pursuers, he’d reassured himself solemnly. Although there was no guarantee they weren’t following them even now, waiting for the opportunity to steal him back. He needed to heal and get his strength back so that he could ensure he didn’t land in their hands again before he could call Mortimer or Lucian and tell them what was happening. To do that, he needed blood.
His gaze focused on the blanket hanging half off the bed and he almost sighed. He didn’t have the strength to pull himself onto the bed, let alone drag himself over it and open the door so that he could see his driver, slip into her thoughts, and make her come to him. It seemed he’d have to wait for her to come to him on her own. He just hoped she didn’t wait too long to do so. The woman may not realize it, but she was in danger. Even if his pursuers hadn’t shown themselves to her, they must have seen the RV. He had no doubt they would come searching for them. The good news was the men would have to make their way back to the house where they’d been keeping him and Tomasso to fetch their vehicle. It would buy a little time at least, but not much, he feared. If the woman didn’t come to him immediately on stopping, they could both be in trouble.