Dead Vampires Don't Date (13 page)

I passed two more doors, followed yet another twist in the hall. It opened up into what must be a storage room. Boxes and shelves lined the walls. A faint light escaped from under the bottom of a door on the other side. Finally.

The punch came from nowhere.

It knocked me clear across the room. I slammed into several cardboard boxes. Half a second later, I crashed onto the cement floor. My head bounced off the concrete. My jaw shrieked, my head throbbed.

Warm copper filled my mouth.

Something flashed too quickly to follow. I had a moment's realization that I was in the air again. Then I hit one of the shelves face first. The steel shelving cut into my skin, splitting it open. I crumbled onto the floor. The shelves creaked above me. Boxes and containers pounded onto my chest and legs. The massive shelf began to tilt. I flung my hands over my head and prayed. Metal grating echoed all around me.

"No!"

The deep bellow penetrated the screeching steel. Something heavy landed on my hands. Agonizing pain shot through my lower jaw, driving the air straight from me. I tried to twist, to protect myself. I couldn't move. I was trapped under the weight of the boxes and supplies.

The horrible screech came closer and I knew I had seconds left and then . . . it was gone. A thunderous crash reverberated throughout the room. I flinched, but I was still alive.

"Kate?"

The weight covering me disappeared. Large, warm hands eased under my head and shoulders, lifted me.

"Kate. Look at me. Open your eyes."

I opened my eyes. Ash stared down at me. His arms cradled me against his chest.

Something that could have been relief or rage flickered through his amber eyes.

Right before I passed out, I decided it was both.

19. Getting Beat Up Sucks The Wazoo.

"
Don't move her head."

"I'm not moving her head. I'm moving her legs."

"Why are you moving her legs? It's her head that's bloody."

"Don't remind me."

I'd finally settled on Ash and Morgan. It certainly sounded like them. I could have opened my eyes to check, but I wasn't quite ready for that.

Consciousness had been slowly working its way into my brain for the last few minutes. I wanted it to go away. Right now. And not come back until I'd healed. Completely.

I hurt.

Sweet, sweet Glinda did I hurt. My legs hurt. My back screamed. My arms whimpered. Breathing sucked. And my head . . . I wanted a new one.

"Why are you putting a box under her legs?"

"She has a head wound. She needs to have her legs elevated."

"Why?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know? I'm a vampire! It's on the TV shows. People get hurt, you elevate their legs. Don't you get Dish in Hell?"

They were not happy. Join the crowd.
They
weren't the ones bleeding. All over.

I think I passed out again, because then I heard, "They do?"

"Yes. Demonas have two horns on their heads and a smaller one near their spine." Firm fingers stroked softly down my cheek. "They're also very tough. They're not soft." I thought I heard Ash say, "they're not like Kate," but it could have been my imagination.

"I didn't know they were called demona."

"Not many people come to visit."

"You live in Hell. It's not exactly a prime vacation spot."

Out again.

Very large, extremely sharp butcher knives were being inserted through my skull and into my brain. I screamed at the top of my lungs. At least I wanted to, but all I heard was a pathetic moan.

"Kate?" Morgan's voice came from somewhere to my right.

"Kate?" Ash knelt on my left. I hadn't opened my eyes, but I knew he knelt. His question whispered warmly over my ear.

"Hur." My lips didn't appear to be working correctly. I tried to lick them, but I had no saliva in my mouth. My tongue felt as if I had been to the dentist and had four root canals completed in half an hour.

"You've got to hurt, Chicky. You're a bloody mess."

I lifted my lids half a centimeter to glare at Morgan. She loved to point out the obvious. I closed my eyes. It pained me to keep them open.

"Kate!"

"Not dead." That came out clearer. I needed it to. If Ash yelled in my ear one more time, my head would explode. He's a demon, you'd think he would be able to hear my heartbeat quite clearly.

I've been in enough similar circumstances before - fortunately without me being the injured person - so I understood the situation. The HC are never mortally wounded. Catch twenty-two there. They can be outright killed, although it takes something, or someone, extra-special to kill them. They are super-fast, super-strong and super-good at protecting themselves.

And they have no clue about first aid. If they get hurt, they heal. If a human gets hurt, they don't care.

I knew Ash could hear my heartbeat. So why had he roared as if he planned to drag me back into the living no matter what realm I wound up in?

Oh crap.

He cared.

He wasn't using me somehow. Or maybe he still was, but the big demon had panicked because he cared. In some fashion. About me.

A large lump formed in my throat.
Damn him.
This physical pain I could take. I could recover from this. And I could keep my own distance if I thought he wanted to use me. If he felt something for me, a feeling - and I don't think I planned on being picky about what or how much . . . with Ash, I just
knew
that I wouldn't be able to make a full recovery of my heart. I would be Kate, but not whole. Part of me would always be with Ash.

I didn't know how big a part.

And it flat out terrified me to find out.

I opened my eyes wide. My right eye cooperated. My left did not. I lifted my hand to check out the exact damage. Ash caught my hand in his first.

"Don't. Your eye is swollen." He placed his finger to the edge of my eye, light as a butterfly. "I don't know what to do." Stifled rage poured out with his words.

"I have to do it." Ash and Morgan couldn't help.

"What do you mean?" His finger slid from my eye, over my cheek and down towards my shoulder. He touched every spot that hurt, every part of me that had been damaged. Softer than a mother's touch, it made me ache ever so sweetly. "Tell me what to do. Tell me how to help you."

"Help me sit up." I could cast my spell lying down just as easily. If I sat up, though, I might have more control. Over what, I honestly couldn't say. However, after someone has beaten you all to shit, control calls to you like a siren's song - powerful and irresistible.

"I don't think you should move." If he thought that, I must look as utterly awful as I felt.

"Morgan," I began.

"No." His arm flexed under my head. I hadn't realized he already supported me. "If that's what you want. I'll help you."

Slowly, very slowly, he began to lift me into a sitting position. My body protested every tiny movement. Nausea lurched alarmingly in my stomach. I forgot to breathe.

"All right?" Ash asked. I don't know when I closed my eyes. I opened them again. The room slanted. I was positive I had a concussion, but now I worried about the severity of it. "Do you want me to stop?"

Ah.
I
was slanted not the room. That was good. I had no idea if my spells would work if I had a severe concussion. I've never had to worry about that before.

"I'm fine."

Ash growled at my comment. An honest-to-demon growl. "All right. I'm not fine, but you can continue to sit me up."

A miserable eternity later, I sat upright. Ash wrapped one big arm around my shoulders for support, his other rested gently below my breasts. I couldn't fall forward or backwards. Which was a huge relief, because if I did either one, the pain alone would kill me.

"Now what?"

I concentrated on just breathing in and out. "Give me a minute and I'll cast a healing spell."

I took more than one minute. When I knew the world wouldn't spin, I took stock of my situation. I sat on the floor. A box had been shoved under my feet, which accounted for my continued lack of balance. Copious amounts of blood pooled around me in a circle large enough to make me shudder. My right hand rested inside a glass cup. A steady stream ran down my arm from the large gash on my shoulder.

Crimson drops of my blood trickled into the glass like a slow leak from the Red Cross van.

"Why am I bleeding into a cup?" I caught the grimace on Morgan's face when I looked up for my answer. "Friends don't drink friends Morgan." Did I have to keep reminding her?

The arm behind me stiffened. "You're going to drink her blood?"

"Please don't shout." I lifted my bleeding arm to my pounding head.

The glass clinked on the concrete. I cracked an eye open. The white of her fangs flashed as Morgan said, "Waste not. Want not." She drained the whole glass. It had been about two thirds full. Of my blood.

I considered passing out for the fourth time. Ash growled. Morgan licked her lips.

My skin started to burn. Now what? What nasty injury wanted to make itself known now? I could only take so much. I pressed my other hand over my burning shoulder. My hand began to burn. Startled, I looked down. My stomach twisted and my vision blurred at the abrupt movement. The moment I could see clearly, I yelled, "Ash!"

He cursed and moved back. Thankfully his hands remained in place so I didn't fall over. Morgan yelped. She flashed away. A second later cold water gushed over my shoulder and down my body.

"Are you hurt?" Ash's hands trembled.

"Don't you mean hurt more?"

"Morgan, please." The very last thing I needed was these two arguing.

"She is not allowed to drink your blood." I know that I'm a modern witch and I absolutely shouldn't like the very possessive tone in Ash's voice. My heart flat out didn't care.

Besides I wasn't happy that Morgan drank my blood either. However . . . she is a vampire and that's what they do. She's always accepted me the way I am. I can do no less.

Blood drinking vampire. Half-bred witch. Fire starting demon. We all are what we are.

I patted Ash's hand. From mid-arm up, tiny flames continued to dance over his skin. "She's a vampire, Ash."

He growled louder.

"Why don't you calm down?" I tilted my head towards his toasty body. "That is why you caught on fire, right?" He may have blushed, but with the orange and red flames flickering over most of his body, it would have been redundant.

Ash inhaled deeply. The flames disappeared.

"Wonderful. Now if you both would refrain from doing anything vampire-ish or demon-ish, I would like to cast a healing spell and I need to concentrate."

I can do healing spells just as easily as the next witch. Although we don't usually heal major injuries. The HC have no need of our spells and the humans get spooked by that much magic these days.

A witch has to be careful using certain types of magic. The lesser spells – truth spells, minor healing spells and the like – required a small amount of magic. The bigger spells required much more magic and came at a price. Things were never
exactly
the same afterwards.

Also, it involves a lot of energy - both to cast the spell and for my body to heal. I didn't have a lot of energy at the moment, so I didn't know how well my spell would work.

Ash and Morgan shut up. I began my spell. My magic gathered in the pit of my stomach. A familiar warmth. As I said the words, it moved outward, flowing gently over and under my skin, seeking out each injury. Like the waters of spring washing down a mountainside, my magic swept over me.

The sharp shards of pain receded. My stomach settled. The wet trails of blood tickling down my skin stopped.

I uttered the last words of the spell.

I hadn't healed completely. I knew it even before I opened my eyes. But I had fixed the worst of the damages. Tomorrow, after I rested, I could probably finish fixing myself up.

Hopefully, the worst that had happened was I lost a freckle or two. I'd have to take inventory later.

"I've never seen anything like that."

I turned to look at Ash. My left eye still throbbed, but I could open it fully. "I'm a witch." I explained. "I work with magic."

"It's beautiful."

I blushed. I've never considered what I do to be beautiful. I've never really thought that much about it. It's just part of who I am.

"I, uh." I didn't know what to say. His amber eyes flickered. Ruby flames tipped in blue sprang from his broad shoulders and licked their way down his massive chest. His skin rippled as his muscles flexed.

"I'm still here."

We both spun towards Morgan. I
had
forgotten she was there. Wow. Wow. Wow.

Morgan smiled. Specks of my blood stained her teeth. "Now that Kate is feeling better, we should figure out who the hell attacked her. And how soon before they plan to do it again."

****

"
I can stand." I bit my tongue as I waited for his answer.

Ash resettled his weight against the wall. I grabbed on to his shoulders so I wouldn't go flying.

All right, all right, I'll be honest. Ash held me firmly enough that I knew I wouldn't budge if the floor opened beneath us and we began a free fall to . . . Wherever.

I just wanted an excuse to touch him.

As soon as he realized I'd healed enough to move, Ash had picked me up. Morgan left ten minutes ago to find the trail left by my attacker. Ash hadn't put me down.

I sat on his lap, cradled by his hard thighs and powerful arms. I could be a size seventeen and still be small in his embrace. His left arm curved around my back. His right could drive me to distraction. It rested on my thighs. His hand had somehow found its way inside a tear in my pants. His fingers played over and over on my skin.

"We might as well be comfortable while we wait."

Whew
. I didn't want to move. If given the option, I'd happily keep my butt planted where it was - forever. But I didn't want to come across as a total weenie, either. I'd just had the stuff kicked out of me. I thought it would make me look good if I at least
appeared
to be strong.

His arm jostled me gently. "You're a tiny thing."
Tiny? Moi?
"Your weight is nothing." Bless demon lord mommas everywhere for making such wonderfully big demons.

"Does your head hurt?"

"No." In comparison to the gang of jackhammers that had been diligently trying to crack open my skull, my head barely hurt. I pressed that head into his shoulder. I'd given up on Ash making a move. He'd been asking me variations of that same question for the past ten minutes.