Read Runaway Vampire Online

Authors: Lynsay Sands

Runaway Vampire (8 page)

Mary ended up pulling out a pair of dark blue cotton pajama bottoms, a pair of faded jeans she wasn't sure would fit him, a pair of grey joggers that definitely
would fit better than hers, and both a black T-shirt and a white one. Mary headed for the door then, but paused as she remembered she was wearing only the T-shirt. Muttering under her breath, she set the clothes on the bed, opened her own closet to retrieve her robe and pulled it on. After quickly tying the sash of the robe, she collected the clothes again and opened the bedroom door.

Mary wasn't surprised to find that Dante was finished with his phone call. She was a bit surprised, however, to find him seated on the side of the bed, face in his hands and shoulders slumped.

Setting the clothes on the corner of the couch-bed, she moved up beside him and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Dante? What's wrong?”

When he didn't answer right away, or even raise his head, she bit her lip, and then ventured, “Your brother?”

He sucked in a deep breath at that and straightened where he sat. “The house was empty when they got there.”

“So your kidnappers managed to leave us and get back to the house before your people could get there?” she asked with a frown.

Dante shook his head. “No. What with the investigation and everything, most of the team is in the area. Lucian says there was someone at the spot on the road within ten minutes of my giving him your directions, and it only took them moments to find the house. There must have been more kidnappers at the house. They must have moved him while the others came after me. Probably to make sure that nothing would be found
there if I got to authorities before they could catch up to me.”

“I see,” Mary said quietly, then sat down on the couch-bed beside him and rubbed his shoulder gently. “I'm sorry.” It was all she could say. She wasn't stupid enough to think there was anything that was going to make him feel better just now. Tomasso was his twin . . . and he'd left him behind and escaped alone. He had been right to do so, but it wasn't likely to make him feel better or lessen his guilt at getting away while his brother didn't.

“Lucian is collecting a group to fly down to Venezuela to see what they can find,” he muttered unhappily.

“Venezuela?” Mary asked with surprise and he glanced at her with surprise of his own.

“Did I not tell you that Tomasso had been awake longer than me and had overheard them talking above stairs about our being transported to Venezuela?” he asked, and then muttered, “I thought I had.”

“You might have,” Mary allowed quietly. “My memory isn't as good as it used to be.” Smiling wryly, she added, “And, I was a bit stressed out when we were first talking. I maybe didn't take in everything.”

“Oh.” Dante nodded and bowed his head again, muttering, “My apologies. I did not mean to distress you.”

Mary frowned. The last thing he should be worrying about right now was any stress all of this had caused her. Besides, he sounded so defeated. Taking a deep breath, she stood abruptly and clapped her hands together. “All right then. I guess we'd best get moving.”

“What?” he asked, lifting bewildered eyes to her.

“Well, if your boss, this Lucian fellow, is arranging a rescue party to go down to Venezuela and hunt up your brother, you'll want to go too. So . . .” She paused and frowned uncertainly. They'd hardly wait for her to drive Dante back north before launching their rescue attempt. At least she hoped they wouldn't. They probably expected him to fly, she thought and said, “I'll take you to the airport, then you can fly to Canada to meet up with your group. Or, are you supposed to fly straight to Venezuela and meet them there?”

“No.” He caught her hand and drew her back onto the bed beside him. “I am not going.”

“You aren't?” she asked with surprise.

Dante shook his head and stared down at her hand, trapped in his own. “Lucian said I was too close to the situation and might jeopardize Tomasso's life by doing something stupid,” he said grimly, and then cleared his throat and added, “He also agreed I must stay and look after you in case the kidnappers who followed us are still in the area looking for your RV.”

“Oh, that's just silly,” Mary muttered impatiently. “They dropped back and then drove right past us when we were getting gas. Obviously they decided you weren't worth the effort.”

“I'm not sure that is true,” Dante said quietly. “They were talking when Tomasso and I heard them approaching the room where our cages were. One of them was saying that someone they called ‘the Doc' would be extremely pleased with them for catching twins for his experiments, and would no doubt give them a bonus for it,” he explained quietly and then added, “That is
why I suspected they had driven ahead to try to ambush us. None of the others taken were twins. They would want me back.”

Mary frowned at this news. She knew that twins were considered useful when it came to experiments. Certainly Josef Mengele had preferred them and she'd recently read that NASA was performing some sort of experiment involving twins. And this certainly did explain why he'd kept harping on the possibility of the van waiting ahead to ambush them.

“We are to wait here. Lucian is sending hun—” He paused abruptly, and then said, “He's sending officers to trail us in the hopes of capturing the kidnappers when they do make their attempt. That is the other reason he does not wish me to go to Venezuela.”

“Because he wants you to be bait,” she said solemnly.

He nodded, and pointed out, “Catching them is the fastest way to learn where Tomasso is, as well as find the rest of the kidnap victims.”

“Yes, I suppose it would be,” she agreed quietly.

“That and the need to protect you are the only reason I am not already headed for the airport.”

“I see,” Mary murmured, and found she was surprisingly concerned about this bait business. Not for herself, but for Dante. She'd thought that worry was over when the van had dropped back then driven past them, but this put a new light on things. They may have simply been preparing an ambush as he'd suggested which made her very glad she'd turned off the highway when she had. They should be safe enough here. It wasn't like this was the only campground in
the area. So if they had set up an ambush and then realized they'd turned off when they didn't appear, his kidnappers would spend the night driving around in search of them. Even if they came to search here they'd run into difficulties. The campground gate had been open when they'd arrived because she'd been expected, but she was quite sure Dave would have closed the gate on his return to the office if all the booked people had arrived.

Sighing, Mary glanced to Dante and then followed his gaze to where he still held her hand. Swallowing, she watched his thumb slide gently across the top of her fingers in a gentle caress and was startled at the heat the light touch raised in her. And then she noticed that her fingers looked like her mother's did in her memory: old and lined compared to his smooth, youthful skin.

When had that happened? she wondered, and then tugged her hand away and stood abruptly. Heading for the bedroom door, she announced, “I brought you more clothes. They should fit better than what you're wearing. If you don't like them, the back bedroom closet is full of Joe's clothes and you're welcome to try them.”

“Mary,” Dante said as she paused inside the bedroom and turned to shut the door.

She stopped with the door half open and risked glancing at him in question. The damned man should not have been attractive in the ridiculous clothes he was wearing, but he was. Like a diamond in an ugly setting, he sparkled and shone despite the feminine apparel.

“I will keep you safe,” he vowed.

Her eyes widened slightly and she didn't know what
to say to that. She hadn't really considered herself in any danger. Her concern had all been for him.

“In the meantime, we need to talk,” he added. “There are things I need to tell you.”

Mary hesitated. She did have some questions she'd like to ask him. Questions like, what else could he do besides read and control minds? And had he controlled her at all? She didn't think so. At least, she didn't feel like she'd done anything she hadn't chosen herself to do. Even if she'd been compelled by guilt or pity at the time, she was quite sure every step of the way had been her choice.

Narrowing her eyes on him, she asked, “Have you controlled me at all since meeting me?”

“No,” Dante assured her solemnly. “I was unable to.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean you
tried
to control me?”

He nodded. “But I could not. That is why we need to talk.

Mary stared at him, unsure whether she believed him or not, and too tired to care. It had been a very long day for her, full of various stressors, and she was obviously exhausted or she wouldn't be reacting to him the way she was. She needed sleep and some time to herself.

“Right now, I'm fighting to keep my eyes open,” she said finally. “We can talk in the morning.”

Dante looked as if he were about to protest, but then suddenly relented and even smiled a little as he nodded. “Very well. Sweet dreams.”

Something about the tone of his voice and his smile made Mary hesitate and narrow her eyes. But when
Dante turned toward the couch-bed and began to strip off her much too small T-shirt, she quickly closed the door between the rooms and then locked it. The clicking noise it made as she did so had her wincing with displeasure. While Mary had wanted it locked, she hadn't really wanted him to know she was locking it. After all, it suggested she suspected he might come creeping in the middle of the night, and how egotistical was that?

Shaking her head, Mary quickly unlocked it again. She then shrugged out of her robe, laid it across the foot of the bed, and crawled under the covers. The moment she'd situated herself on her side facing the wall, Bailey scooted up behind her to curl against her, back to back. Mary smiled faintly at the familiar heat of the dog's body along her spine. Joe used to insist the dogs they'd had over the years sleep on the floor, but Mary wasn't Joe, and Bailey had been sleeping on the bed since his passing. She liked it that way. At least she did when Bailey wasn't hogging the whole bed, she thought with amusement. Many was the morning she'd woken up to find herself curled up on a corner of the bed, feet hanging off the side while Bailey lay spread out next to her. Bailey liked the bed much better than the floor.

Shaking her head at the thought, Mary reached back to give the dog an affectionate pat, then closed her eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Seven

D
ante finished stripping, and then picked up the clothes Mary had set on the corner of the couch-bed and shifted them to the table before climbing between the sheets. He preferred sleeping nude. The only time he wore clothing of any kind to bed was when he was on one of those protection gigs he'd mentioned to her. The possibility of having to wake up and jump directly into action was enough to make him wear his leathers to bed in those instances.

He was pretty sure that wouldn't happen tonight, however. They had lost his kidnappers today when she'd turned off the highway onto the road where this campground was situated. Dante had no doubt that his kidnappers were searching for them by now, but he'd walked the grounds while out with Bailey and the camp was situated in the curve of the river with just the front facing the road as a possible approach.
However, that was lined with a high, barred fence with the entry gate in the center and the owners had apparently closed and locked the gate after their arrival. At least, it had been closed by the time he'd led Bailey that way. And it was a good sturdy gate that had to be opened from inside. There were also cameras trained on the gate to discourage anyone trying to force it open. Dante was quite sure that his kidnappers wouldn't want that kind of attention, especially when they couldn't be certain he was in here. They'd probably go check out the other camps first if they were easier to enter, and then simply come back to wait for them to leave. At least, that's what he was hoping for. Dante was sincerely hoping they hadn't given up on him completely. He needed them to tell him where Tomasso was.

Frowning, he shifted to his side and slid one arm under the pillow his head rested on. Today had been a roller coaster ride for him. Waking up in the cage, escaping, having to leave Tomasso behind, getting run over, and then realizing that the woman who had run him over was most likely his life mate. His emotions had been up and down like a yo-yo.

Blinking his eyes open, he glanced toward the door to the bedroom. His life mate. He'd never expected to find her so early in his life. Many immortals waited centuries or even millennia to find their mate and yet here he was with Mary. Dante had found in life that God often gave even as He took, but sincerely hoped this was an exception. Finding Mary was the best thing
to happen in his life, but at the same time, losing Tomasso would be the worst and there was no way one could balance out the other in his mind.

Sighing, he closed his eyes, trying not to feel guilty for doing so. He felt like he should be out driving around trying to find his kidnappers to draw their attention. However, Lucian had said it would take until dawn for the hunters he was sending to reach them, and that they should remain at the RV camp for the night. A fortuitous order in a way, since Dante couldn't control Mary and make her leave the campground, as he would otherwise have done. He suspected he'd have had a battle on his hand had he tried to force the issue. Mary had been amazingly accepting of everything so far, and hadn't even pestered him with questions about his abilities as he'd expected. But he knew she was exhausted and suspected that was the reason why. He'd put her through a lot tonight, and that after she'd spent the day driving the monster presently housing them.

Actually, Dante was rather impressed with how she was handling everything so far. She was obviously a strong woman not given to hysterics and that could only be a good thing. He suspected they'd both be grateful for that before this was all over.

Grimacing, he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, trying not to think of all the things that could go wrong when they left this campground tomorrow. The worst scenario was one where Mary was hurt and he was taken out by another drugged dart and unable to help her. The very thought of that was enough to scare
the crap out of him and Dante began to wonder if he shouldn't convince Mary to wait here while he drove out alone, promising to return for her.

He was contemplating how to convince her to let him do that when he felt sleep overtaking him. Dante drifted off to sleep with a little sigh, then was startled awake by the sound of the bedroom door sliding open. Opening his eyes, he rose up on one elbow, and peered at Mary uncertainly as she stepped into the room. The RV was dark as could be, but his eyes were made for darkness and he could see her clearly in the overlarge T-shirt he'd caught glimpses of earlier when her robe had parted slightly. It looked surprisingly sexy for a man's shirt, clinging to her breasts and hips and stopping halfway down her thighs, leaving her shapely legs on display.

Forcing his gaze back to her face, he asked with concern, “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, I'm sorry,” Mary said softly. “I just wanted to be sure you were all right. I know you're worried about your brother.”

Dante let his breath out on a sigh, his body releasing the tension that had suddenly claimed it.

“Yes. Thank you,” he added softly. “I am worried about him, of course, but we will find him.”

“Of course we will,” she said, but her voice sounded distracted now. Noticing that her eyes had dropped, he glanced down to see that the sheet had slipped down, leaving his bare chest on show. Resisting the urge to flex his muscles to try to impress her, he instead held out his hand and said her name softly.

Mary gave a start at the sound of her name and glanced to the hand he held out. After a hesitation, she took the couple of steps necessary and took his hand lightly in her own.

When Dante smiled and squeezed her hand, then tugged gently, urging her to sit, she didn't fight, but sank slowly to sit on the side of the couch-bed. Trying not to rush her and scare her off, he toyed with her hand briefly, then glanced up to her face and said, “I would like to kiss you.”

“Yes, please,” she murmured, and that's when Dante realized he was dreaming. He was quite sure that in reality, Mary Winslow would not come out to check on him in nothing but an overlarge T-shirt, would not cross willingly to the bed to take his hand, and would not agree to his kissing her. This was one of the infamous shared dreams immortals and their mates enjoyed when they found each other. Mary wouldn't realize what it was, that he was here with her. She would think it was just a normal dream, the result of her desires, which meant she wouldn't be held back by fears or anxieties. She would do as she truly wished without being held back by all the morals and societal pressures that normally affected behavior. But this dream was also an opportunity for him to show her what she could have with him.

Nodding to himself, Dante released her hands and sat up, noting the way Mary's eyes followed his sheet as it dropped to pool around his waist. Smiling, he slid his hand around her head and pulled her forward to claim her lips. She went still at first, but when he slid his
tongue out to urge her lips apart, she opened to him and the moment he deepened the kiss a moan sounded deep in her throat and she melted against him like butter on a warm muffin. The moment she did, Dante slipped his arm around her waist and twisted his upper body on the bed, dragging her across his lower body to lay her on her back on the inside of the bed.

Mary gasped in surprise at the action, her arms instinctively closing around him and holding tight. Once her back touched the cool sheets, though, she began to kiss him back. She also eased her panicked grip and began to run her hands over his shoulders and then up into his hair.

Dante moaned his pleasure as her nails scraped across his scalp. He was leaning on one arm to keep from crushing her, but let his other hand begin to move then, following the curve of her side and hip, and then following that curve back up, before allowing it to slide over to cover one breast.

Mary moaned and arched into the caress, her hands tightening in his hair. But in the next moment, she released that tight grip to begin moving her hands over the skin of his back again. Mary alternately massaged the muscles of his back and pulled at him, her body shifting and arching as he kneaded and squeezed first one breast then the other through the cloth of her overlarge T-shirt.

It wasn't long before that wasn't enough, and Dante wanted the T-shirt gone. His kiss growing more demanding, he slanted his mouth over her one way and then the other as his hand dropped away to find the
bottom of the T-shirt. He started out thinking to slip his hand under and snake his way back up to her breast so that he could touch her without the cloth between his fingers and her flesh, but when his fingers brushed between her legs as he started to move his hand up and he realized she wasn't wearing panties . . . well, that, combined with the way Mary cried out into his mouth, her hips bucking in response, immediately changed his plans. Instead of continuing upward, his hand paused and then he cupped her there.

Mary tore her mouth away on a gasp and twisted her head from side to side. Her gasps quickly turned into mewls of sound as he began to caress her. Dante watched her thrash beneath him, fascinated. She was incredibly beautiful to him, glowing with passion and need and . . . suddenly gone. He didn't know if it was her sudden disappearance from the dream or the sound of her voice that startled him awake, but he opened his eyes to the dark RV and sat up, listening to the sound of her murmured attempts to soothe her dog.

“It's okay Bailey. Mommy's fine. She was just dreaming. It's okay. Stop licking my face, sweetie. Mommy's fine.”

Dante let his breath out on a sound that was half amused and half frustrated, and then sank back on the bed. Mary must have been moaning and perhaps even thrashing in her sleep as they'd had their shared dream. It had obviously alarmed the dog to the point she'd woken up her mistress . . . bringing an end to the lovely dream.

He listened to Mary as she continued to soothe the
dog, but when the dog apparently settled and she fell silent, he closed his eyes, eager to return to sleep and the dream they'd been sharing.

M
ary moaned and pushed Bailey wearily away for about the hundredth time since she'd gone to bed. The dog had repeatedly wakened her from sleep through the night, licking her cheek and pawing at her arm to pull her from sleep and the dreams that had apparently made her restless and disturbed Bailey's sleep.

Sighing her relief when Bailey gave up licking at her face and merely dropped her head to rest it on Mary's belly, she wiped her eyes tiredly. She was exhausted, and extremely frustrated after a night of wet dreams that had constantly been interrupted before they could reach their happy ending.

Each one of those dreams had been about her and Dante, and Mary supposed she should be embarrassed, but hell, they were just dreams and they weren't the first inappropriate ones she'd had in her life. Besides, what they amounted to was her subconscious telling her that she was attracted to Dante. Not surprising. He was a good-looking young man and built like a damned Adonis.

Actually, Adonis probably would have envied him, she thought. But the point was that of course she'd lust after him. Who wouldn't? It didn't mean anything. It wasn't like she was going to try to drag those dreams into reality with her. She'd just enjoyed them for the
private fantasy they were. Well, as much as she could enjoy them with Bailey taking on the coitus-interruptus cape. Honestly, Mary loved the dog, but sometimes she could just smack her.

Bailey shifted her head a little higher on Mary's stomach and whined piteously, a sure sign she wanted to go outside and relieve herself. Mary pulled her hands from her face and scowled at the dog.

“Really?” she asked in a hissed whisper. “Keep me up half the night with your nonsense and then expect me to crawl out of bed to let you out?”

Bailey blinked at her innocently, eyes wide, and Mary sighed and sat up, forcing the dog off of her. She muttered, “Fine. But I have to dress first, so you'll just have to wait a couple minutes.”

Bailey whimpered and sat up to give her “the sad eyes,” and Mary shook her head and grimaced in response. She supposed, to be fair about it, she had obviously kept the dog awake with her thrashing about and moaning in her sleep. In fact, Mary supposed she should be grateful Bailey had woken her repeatedly, otherwise she might have disturbed Dante's sleep . . . and wouldn't that have been embarrassing? It probably would have been obvious that her dreams were sexual in nature. Bailey had woken her up at one point as she was gasping, “oh, oh, oh,” over and over again. In her dream, Dante was—Well, point being, she'd still been crying out when she'd woken up. Had she got much louder, her guest would have heard and had no doubt about the kind of dreams she was enjoying.

Which is perfectly normal and healthy, Mary told
herself as she crawled to the end of the bed and stood to tug the closet door open to find clothes. Hell, she was surprised she could still have wet dreams.

Sunlight was pouring in through the open blinds at the head of the bed, making it easy to see and pick out clothes. Mary moved quickly into the bathroom with shorts and a T-shirt and closed the door so Bailey wouldn't try to follow. The bathroom, while spacious for an RV, was tiny enough that the two of them in there would have made it as crowded as the subway at rush hour.

Very aware that Bailey needed to relieve herself too, Mary started out trying to be quick about getting herself ready to face the day, but then as it occurred to her that they would no doubt wake up poor Dante as they traipsed through the living area, she frowned and slowed a bit. It was times like this that she realized how inconvenient an RV could be. Of course, with just her and Joe in it, having only one door had never been a problem, but the few times they'd had guests with them, she'd thought that a second exit in the back of the RV might have been nice. Of course, there was nowhere to put one back here, unless she wanted to walk through the shower to a door, but . . .

Grimacing, she grabbed the brush and ran it quickly through her hair. There was nothing for it; she'd have to take the risk of disturbing Dante. It would be cruel to make Bailey wait until they heard Dante stirring out there. He was young and might sleep for hours yet. Sighing, she set down the brush, then turned and slid the bathroom door open, only to pause when she saw
that the bedroom door was cracked open and Bailey was gone.

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