Immortal Healer (21 page)

His fangs sank painfully into his mouth, and he suddenly had images of tearing her throat out stabbing his brain; his lips pulled back in a snarl he couldn’t disguise, and he trembled as the images whirled in his head, torturing him. She was staring at him with wide and terrified eyes, and as he fought the contorting movements of his facial muscles, she lowered her upstretched hand to his chest.

“I’m sorry … I’m sorry.” He was croaking out the words as his body responded to the scent of her blood. And as he rolled from her to sit on the side of the bed, he stared at the floor to calm himself. She said nothing to him, and he knew she was in shock. He stopped breathing, refusing to inhale, though his body wanted to experience the scent again, and as he calmed, he stood from the bed, refusing to look back at her. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re bleeding.” And then he left, grabbing the underwear he’d tossed on the chair by his bed.

He walked swiftly to his clinic, refusing to let his brain panic. But there was little point; his brain won over in the end, and as he closed the door to the clinic, he stepped to the counter and froze, staring at the wall in front of him. Something was wrong. He lifted his fingers to his nose, terrified to experience it again. His fingers shook as he took a slow breath. But there it was.

It could be nothing. But he knew that wasn’t true. Logic told him there was a chance it was nothing, but he knew better. He could hear as she turned the faucet on in his bathroom, and he felt so horribly guilty for how he’d reacted. He’d hurt her feelings if nothing else, and he’d frightened her without doubt. But it was the least of his concern at the moment, and as he sank into the swivel chair that sat at his work space, he stared.

When she entered a few minutes later, she looked worried, hesitant was an understatement. She was dressed in only a robe. She looked precious, and it melted his heart and left him feeling like his throat was tightening like a vice.

“I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me.” Her voice was so quiet and worried.

“I need to examine you.” She watched him. She was expressionless, but she gave a slight nod and moved to the exam table. For whatever reason, she seemed to understand it wasn’t the time for questions, and he silently helped her up onto the table. He could hear her heart thudding away, and he knew she was nervous, but she remained stoic and quiet.

He cupped her jaw, gently prodding underneath. They focused on one another as he searched, and her heart raced as his fingers moved. And then he found what he didn’t want to find. Her glands were still swollen.

Strike one.

He helped her to lie back on the table, and he untied the sash at her waist, parting the fabric. She was naked, and while his groin tightened at the sight, he ignored his body and moved his hands to her stomach. He prodded and palpated, focusing only on the upper left side of her abdomen. He held his breath again, waiting. And there it was. Enlarged spleen.

Strike two.

He helped her to sit back up, and when he met her eyes, he couldn’t seem to look away. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” She broke the silence, and he just stared.

“Your blood doesn’t smell right to me. My reaction to it was far stronger than it should have been. It’s a good indication there’s something wrong. We’re predators, and our bodies are programmed to seek out the weak in the herd.” He held her eyes, not wanting any part of what he was saying to be true. “The sick.”

Strike three.

And after studying her for many more seconds, he found his voice again. “I need to draw blood and run some tests.”

He moved silently around gathering what he needed from his cupboards. She watched every move he made, and he avoided her eyes. This was not how this night was supposed to end. He ligated her arm and pulled the blood he needed. There was nothing formal about them at the moment. He was standing in his underwear, she was nearly naked with her robe open, and it was dead silent in the room.

“What’s wrong with me?” She looked stunned, terrified as she broke the silence.

“You’re body’s been under a good deal of stress the past few years. I’m just being cautious. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“No you’re not. Assuming it’s something, what could it be?” It was barely more than a whisper.

“Too many things to simply guess.”

“Like?”

“Damnit Abigail. Don’t ask me to speculate.”

“Don’t ask me to wonder what you’re thinking.”

He watched her, studied the sound of her heart as he held her eyes. She was the first to move, and when she leaned to his mouth, he exhaled the breath he’d been holding. She paused before taking his lips. “I know you’re worried. You can’t hide that from me.” And then after pulling back from him slightly to take in his face, she spoke again. “Do I need to worry about you biting me?”

She was trying for sarcastic. He wanted to smile; he wanted to smirk; he wanted to reassure her in the way she needed, but he just shook his head slightly. Her face dropped at his obvious lack of humor, and he spoke before she could worry any longer. “It just took me by surprise earlier. You’re safe with me.”

“I know.” His heart melted at her words, and it tore apart at the same time. He wanted to send her away, so he could analyze her blood work, but in the same breath, he wanted so desperately to reassure her, comfort her, support her. In the end, his emotional needs outweighed his logical ones, and he kissed her.

Her hands found his waist, and she moved her fingers gently around the waistband. His underwear sat low and snug on his hips, and as her fingers traced the line of the waistband, they dipped gently into the exposed top of the cleft of his buttocks. He moaned quietly into her mouth as she moved her fingers gently along his skin. When she pushed the back of his underwear halfway down his buttocks, abandoning them as her hands moved to his waist pulling him into her, he reached for her face. He held her mouth to his with a hand along each side of her jaw. His tongue plunged and licked the warmth, savoring her flavor.

His cock was hard and crammed tight in his underwear ready for her touch. He wanted to hang on to his worry; he felt damn near guilty for letting it go, but she was pushing it from both their minds at the moment, and it was what she needed. Her kiss was passionate and needy, and he kept his tongue in her mouth just to keep hers from snagging on his venomous fangs.

Her fingers worked around to the front of his underwear, slipping past the waist to grasp his engorged cock with her hand. She pulled his length from his underwear, stroking gently along the shaft. His forehead met hers as he looked down to watch her small slender fingers trail over his skin. The sight was incredible, and the feel of her delicate fingers grazing over the rigid veins of his arousal left him groaning. She was watching too, and he lifted her to straddle his hips.

He intended to get her to bed but only managed to make it halfway through his office before her hand clamped down on his length, just beneath the head of his cock that was pushed up high on his stomach. The jolt of need brought him to his knees. The floor of his office was hard, cold marble, and he was infinitely glad he had the forethought to put a large area rug on the floor as his knees met the surface, and he sank back to sit on his heels with a loud groan. He let her bottom slide down his thighs just enough to give her hand the access it needed. She grasped and pulled the length of his arousal. She was gentle, but her movements were hasty and desperate, and his head dropped back as she stroked.

When she leaned forward to kiss him, he laid her gently down on the floor, grinding his pelvis into hers, and then rolled her over to straddle his hips. Her expression was serious, but the scent of her arousal was intense. The robe slipped off her shoulder as she leaned down to his mouth again, and his skin felt like it was being singed with fire as her hard and erect nipples met the cool skin of his chest. She pulled her body slowly down his, letting her tongue trail the most enticing path over his stomach muscles.

Her tongue dipped quickly into his belly button, and his stomach muscles clenched hard. As she kissed a trail down his abdomen, his cock ran up the side of her cheek, and he hissed at the contact. Every ounce of her flesh was warm against his skin, and as her mouth moved down, sucking and kissing, he reached down and stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. Her lips found the base of his cock, and her tongue licked one slow and steady glide from the base to the head. Her tongue was deliciously flat against the breadth of his cock as it moved up, and he watched her. He was panting like a dog and groaning in desperation by the time she finished that bit of incredible torture.

Her lower lip caught on the ridge of skin as she reached the bulbous head, and he gasped loudly as her eyes met his. He was trembling, and his body was begging her to suck. Her eyes watched him. She was tormenting him, but it wasn’t intentional. She was mesmerized, and as he watched, her eyes slowly moved down his body, taking in the rippling muscles of his stomach, and when her gaze flashed to his eyes one last time, it was as she took a deliciously erotic taste of his slit with the tip of her tongue.

He was propped up on his elbows with his knees dropped out wide. Her breasts were brushing the backs of his thighs just where his thighs met his buttocks. With one final lick to her lips, she let her lips pass tightly over the head of his penis. She sucked as she moved down his length, and he watched the distention of her lips as his cock sank deeper into her mouth. Groan wasn’t even the right word for the sound he made. It was a half cry, half growl that took over his throat and broke the quiet of the room. She was humming quietly, as though savoring something exquisite, and the vibration from her mouth left his cock flexing and twitching against the inside of her cheeks.

She pulled slowly back up, and he gritted his teeth hard to stifle his need for release. She set a slow pace that built to a steady torturous vigor. When she let her hand join her mouth, twisting in time with her sucking, his heels dug into the rug, and he panted quickly as his body readied itself for release. At just the last moment, he raked his fingers gently through the hair at her forehead and pushed her head back as his cock popped past her lips.

He came with his cock flexing and shooting cum on his stomach. His fingers were still buried in her hair holding her head up, and her eyes watched as every last spasm worked through him. She watched his cum spurting out onto his stomach, and she watched as it turned to a slow dribble. She met his eyes again. His lips were parted in absolute repletion, and her eyes zoned in on the peaks of his fangs between his parted lips.

Her eyes taking in every last reaction of his arousal and orgasm had been so incredibly intoxicating, and she ended this most perfect intimate act by licking around the still swollen and needy head of his cock as her fingers ran through the slick wetness on his stomach. She sucked him into her mouth again and let him out slowly, tasting his flavor as she went, and he dropped back to the floor as she finished.

He laid still and quiet on the rug as she snuggled into his side, and there they stayed for a long time as his body relaxed and released the tension. She started shivering beside him, and it was only then that he pulled her up from the floor and led her to his bed. He crawled in between the soft warm sheets with her after he’d wiped his stomach clean with a washcloth he grabbed from the bathroom, and she curled into him, falling fast asleep.

But he didn’t sleep. He stared at the ceiling for two long hours. He was afraid to rise, afraid to go to his clinic, afraid to deal with what he was afraid he’d find. He studied her while she slept. He could feel the panic closing in and tightening around his heart. He kept telling himself it could be nothing, but just as he grasped at the alternatives, they slipped away. She’d been very sick a couple months before, and that alone … but he didn’t like it. She responded to the antibiotics. She wasn’t sick anymore, and sick or not, an enlarged spleen was not okay with him. Glands fine, spleen not fine.

But it could be nothing.

It was something. He knew it was something. And he had his suspicions. It’s why he’d gone looking for the enlarged spleen. She bruised easily, she had been sick, she was fatigued often, her glands were swollen, her blood was off. Now he just had to find the nerve to face it.

She didn’t deserve this, and he couldn’t bear it. Not now. She’d come too far, crossed too many hurdles to get to this place. She didn’t fucking deserve this.

Chapter 22

She woke alone. It was still dark, and the clock beside the bed said it would be for many more hours yet. She was tired and wanted to stay in the warmth of the bed, but she wanted to find him more. She knew he was worried, and no matter how much he may want to convince her that she was fine, she didn’t believe a word he said. She wasn’t fine. He was looking, searching for clues when he’d examined her earlier, and he knew exactly what he was looking for. She, on the other hand, had no idea what any of it meant.

She sought him out, finding him quickly in the clinic. He was bent over the counter with his head in his hands. He was wearing nothing but his underwear. They showed his lean and strong build beautifully, but at the moment, his strength was gone. She didn’t need to see his face to know he was devastated, and as her heart sped, he turned to her. His expression looked dead and devoid, and she stayed frozen in the doorway, afraid to move.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“I’m getting you in tomorrow for a bone marrow biopsy and a lumbar puncture.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” And he couldn’t seem to look at her either.

“Please Abigail.”

She just stared. She needed to know. She needed to hear whatever it was he didn’t want to say. And so she stared, refusing to break away from his pained expression.

The muscles of his jaw worked harshly; his mouth opened and closed as though he couldn’t bring himself to utter the words, and then finally he spoke. “Leukemia.”