Part 24 (1/2)
”She'd already been bitten. He was draining her when I smelled blood and found them outside the terminal. He would have killed her. Would have killed you, too.”
Gabrielle could hardly believe what she was hearing. ”You saved us?”
”I gave your mother a chance to get away. She was too far gone from the bite. Nothing was going to save her. But she wanted to save you. She ran away with you in her arms.” ”No. She didn't care about me. She left me. She put me in a trash bin,” Gabrielle whispered, her throat burning as she spoke the words, felt the old hurt of abandonment all over again.
”The bite would have put her in a state of shock. It 's likely she was disoriented, thinking that she was putting you someplace safe. Sheltering you from danger.”
G.o.d, how long had she wondered about the young woman who'd given birth to her? How many scenarios had she concocted to explain, to herself at least, what might have happened the night she was recovered on the street, as an infant. Never had she imagined this.
”What was her name?”
”I don't know. I didn't care. She was just another victim of the Rogues. I hadn't thought about any of it until you mentioned your mother tonight at your apartment.”
”And me?” she asked, trying to put everything together. ”When you first came to see me after the killing I'd witnessed, did you know I was the baby you saved?”
He exhaled a dry laugh. ”I had no idea. I came to you because I smelled your jasmine scent outside the nightclub and I wanted you. I needed to know if your blood would taste as sweet as the rest of you.”
Hearing those words made her think of all the pleasure Lucan had given her with his body. Now she wondered how it would have felt to have him suckling from her neck as he thrust inside of her. To her shock, she realized she was a lot more than curious.
”But you didn't. You haven't... ”
”And I won't,” he replied, his words clipped. Another curse came from his direction in the dark, this one a pained hiss. ”I never would have touched you at all, if I'd known... ”
”If you'd known what?”
”Nothing, forget it. Just... Christ, my head is pounding too much for me to talk. Just get out of here. Leave me alone now.”
Gabrielle stayed right where she was. She heard him moving again, a stiff shuffling of feet. Another rumbling, animal growl.
”Lucan? Are you all right?”
”I'm fine,” he snarled, sounding anything but. ”I need... ah, f.u.c.k.” He was breathing harder now, almost panting. ”Get out of here, Gabrielle. I need to be... by myself.”
Something heavy hit the carpeted floor with a dull thud. He sucked in a sharp breath.
”I don't think you need to be alone right now at all. I think you need help. And I can't keep talking to you in the dark like this.”
She smoothed her hand over the wall, blindly searching for a light. ”I can't see any-”
Her fingers brushed a switchplate, flipped it on.
”Oh, my G.o.d.”
Lucan was doubled over on the floor near a king-sized bed. His s.h.i.+rt and boots were off, and he was writhing as though in extreme pain, the markings on his bare back and torso livid with color. The intricate swirls and arcs changed from deep purples to reds to black as he spasmed, clutching his abdomen.
Gabrielle raced to his side and kneeled down beside him. His body contracted savagely, pulling him into a tight ball.
”Lucan! What's going on?” ”Get out.” He snarled when she tried to touch him, las.h.i.+ng out like a wounded animal. ”Go! Not your... concern.”
”The h.e.l.l it's not!”
”Get... aagh!” A convulsion gripped him again, worse than the last. ”Just get away from me.”
Panic flooded her to see him thras.h.i.+ng with such pain. ”What is happening to you? Tell me what to do!”
He flipped onto his back like invisible hands had tossed him over. The tendons in his neck were stretched taut as cables. Veins and arteries bulged on his biceps and forearms. His lips were peeled back in a grimace, baring his sharp white fangs. ”Gabrielle, get the f.u.c.k out of here!”
She backed off to give him s.p.a.ce, but she wasn't about to leave him suffering like this by himself. ”Should I get someone for you? I can go tell Gideon-”
”No! Don't... can't tell. Not... anyone.” When he lifted his eyes to her, she saw that his pupils were thin slits of black, swamped by pools of glowing amber. That feral gaze went to her throat. Locked onto the place where she could feel her pulse hammering.
Lucan shuddered, squeezed his eyes shut. ”It will pa.s.s. It always does... eventually.”
As if to prove his point, after a long moment, he started to drag himself to his feet. It was hard going and graceless, but the growl he sent Gabrielle's way when she tried to help him convinced her to let him do it on his own. By sheer force of will, he got up and flopped onto his stomach on the edge of the bed. He was still panting, his body still tense and heaving.
”Is there anything I can do?”
”Go.” He blew the word out on an anguished gasp. ”Just... stay away.”
She remained right where she was. Braved a light touch on his shoulder. ”Your skin is on fire. You're burning up with fever.”
He didn't say anything. She wasn't sure he was capable of words when all his energy was focused on grounding himself and getting free of whatever it was that had him in such a fierce hold. He 'd told her he needed to feed tonight, but this seemed to be something deeper than basic hunger. This was suffering on a level she'd never seen.
A chill thought ran through her head, carried there by a term Lucan had used earlier tonight.
Bloodl.u.s.t.
That was the addiction he had described as being a hallmark of the Rogues. All that separated the Breed from their savage brethren. Looking at him now, she had to wonder how difficult it might be to feed a hunger that could also destroy you.
And once Bloodl.u.s.t had you by the throat, how long before it pulled you under completely?
”You're going to be all right,” she told him softly, stroking his dark hair. ”Just relax. Let me take care of you, Lucan.”
CHAPTER Twenty-three
He was lying in cool shade, a soft breeze sifting through his hair. He didn't want to wake up from the deep, dreamless sleep. It wasn't often that he found this kind of peace. Never like this. He wanted to nestle down into it, sleep for a hundred years.
But the faint trace of jasmine floating close by made him stir. He sucked the sweet scent into his lungs, tasting it in the back of his parched throat. Savoring it. He peeled open his heavy lids, looked up, and saw beautiful brown eyes gazing back at him.
”Feeling better?”
He was, actually. The searing headache was gone. His skin no longer felt like it was being shredded off of him. The twisting pain in his gut had faded to a hollow gnawing, uncomfortable as h.e.l.l, but nothing he couldn't handle.
He tried to tell her he was better, but his voice came out in a hoa.r.s.e croak. He cleared his throat, pushed sound out of his mouth.