Immortal Healer (5 page)

Quentin watched her sleep while she twitched and moaned, as one bad dream after another popped into her mind. She was wrapped in a blanket she’d stolen from his home. Her hair was stringy again, and her meals were few and far between, leaving her looking frail and weak. He was pissed, though he wasn’t surprised, she’d left. Hell, he’d expected it, but it didn’t stop him from being pissed.

Ember pleaded with him to bring her back, but he had no intention of it, at least not yet. He wanted her to see how much harder this life was than what he offered. He wanted her to appreciate it when she came back, and not for any personal reason; he wasn’t one to need an ego stroke. But he suspected the more she appreciated how comfortable he could make her life, the easier it would be for her to trust him. Ember agreed with his rationale, though she had a hard time stomaching seeing Abigail in this way. It was early summer, and Boston was plenty cool in the evenings. Watching her shiver and rub her hands together as she sat on the ground was hard for him too.

He had contacted Blakely for a legal referral. He was one of the councilmen who spent a good deal of his time in Charlotte, where the majority of his family resided, but being in Boston for council business was necessary as well. Blakely was a lawyer, and while he didn’t practice criminal law, Quentin was hoping for a decent recommendation for Abigail. She was looking at some significant time with her most current assault charge if he couldn’t find her a good lawyer. She’d pled not guilty with a public defender standing by her side, and she was due back in court for trial in a month. He was definitely on a time limit with her. But it wasn’t until she got sick that he really started worrying about that limit.

* * * *

“Are you going to get her today?” Ember was as concerned as he was.

“Yes. It’s been two weeks now. It’s time.”

“Thank God. I completely understand and agree with you letting her flounder about a bit, but she doesn’t look good.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

She was very sick. He’d watched her from a distance after the park bench incident and hadn’t realized just how sick she’d gotten for many days. Had he been closer, he’d have heard the wheezing lungs sooner. Her color was bad, and she looked far too exhausted, as though she might crumble to the ground at any moment. All he wanted to do was scoop her up in his arms and take her away. He’d watched her around the clock since she’d left, and he was done worrying about her, especially now. He was across the street in his car with Ember, watching her as she sat on the sidewalk with a paper cup of change in front of her.

When a couple of street punks walked by, one stopped and kicked the cup of change away, and as she reached sluggishly to stop the change from rolling off, she bit back. “Fuck! What the hell?” Her eyes flashed with fury and life. Sick as she was, that had jump-started her defenses. When the kid spit in her face, her hand moved to peel and scrape the slime from the skin around her eye. And then she lunged.

There was no stopping Quentin from darting through the street quicker than any human’s eyes could follow to her side, and before she could reach the man and put herself in even more danger, Quentin was there, slamming his palm against the punk’s throat and gripping his neck tight. He seethed the words meant to put the kid right back in his place as Abigail stared in shock. “Disrespect her again, and I’ll tear that fucking tongue right out of your mouth.” The punk’s eyes bulged as Quentin glared. He shoved the punk, releasing his hold. He and his counterpart scampered away.

He wheeled on her. “And this is better than my home?” He looked down on her harshly as she sank back to the ground and used the dirty cuff of her shirt to wipe away the remaining spit from her face.

“This is safer than your home.”

“No it isn’t. Not by a long shot.” He sounded as angry as he was.

“How did you find me?”

He crouched down to look at her, letting his expression soften for the first time. She might be defiant, but her eyes showed embarrassment. “I never lost you. Did you really believe I thought you’d stick around so easily? I was going to let you flounder about awhile longer, but given you’re current state, I decided this had gone on long enough. You’re sick.”

He offered her his hand. She stared at it for many long seconds as he watched her coolly. When she reached to his hand, his heart fluttered and relief flooded his body. He stood, pulling her up to her feet.

Ember was standing across the street by his car, and as they made their way across the street, she climbed into the driver’s seat with a quick wink to him. He helped Abigail into the back seat, and he slid in next to her. She was horribly weakened, and as Ember pulled into traffic, her head sank back, and her eyes closed. Ember eyed them from the rearview mirror, and he could see the sadness etched into her expression.

Ember was one of the more moral vampires he’d ever met. Hell, she was more moral and caring than most humans, and it was why he was beyond thankful to have her there. “What do you think? Just a cold or…” Ember sounded worried.

“Pneumonia from the sound of her lungs.”

Abigail’s eyes slowly opened and took in Ember. “Is she one of … your kind too?” He nodded but said nothing. Instead, he lifted his hand to her forehead. She flinched for a moment but then relaxed as his palm met her skin. She was burning up.

He held his cool palm to her forehead, and her eyes slowly closed again. When he pulled her into his arms, he expected her to fight. When she didn’t, he brushed the tangled hair from her eyes. He could feel the burn of her skin against the chill of his. He was anxious. Being stuck in the car, unable to care for her was going to test his patience, but as he focused on his fingers gently caressing her arm and the sound of her strong steady heart, he was calmed. She murmured against his shoulder, and he tilted his head down, shushing her quietly as she squirmed.

When he looked up, Ember was watching him. She’d pulled to a stop light, and while he could see only her eyes in the mirror, he could tell by the slight wrinkle at the corners she was smiling. “You actually look quite handsome together.” She commented. She was taunting him.

“Shut up.” But he smirked as he said it, and they were on their way once again.

*

When she woke, it was to a dim warm room. She was on a comfortable gurney with warm sheets. It was a hospital. There was an I.V. attached to the top of her hand, and as she peered around the room, she found she was alone. The lights appeared to be on a dimmer and were set low. It was soothing and comfortable, but she knew she couldn’t stay. There would be questions when they realized she was awake.

She struggled to push herself up to her elbow, feeling exceptionally dizzy and tired, and as she stared at the top of her hand, trying to figure out how to pull out the I.V., the door opened. Her eyes flashed to the figure, and when she saw him, her heart raced. He was there. In the hospital. Quentin. She’d let him hold her. The memory was coming back as she woke, and as it did, a flush ran over her skin. His jaw tightened, and his eyes shifted from hers for a moment but returned quickly.

“How are you feeling?” He stepped to the side of the elevated gurney, and she peered up to him. He looked beautiful and calm, just as he had during their last meeting.

“Where am I? Is this a hospital? I can’t afford…”

“This is my clinic in the council building. You’ve been here for twelve hours now, and your fever has finally broken. I asked how you were feeling.”

“Tired. Achy.” In truth, she felt like she’d been run over by a truck. She wasn’t entirely sure what hurt, only that she hurt. Her chest was still congested, and her head throbbed.

“I’ll get you something for the pain. I have you on antibiotics. You have pneumonia, and you’re really quite sick. The I.V. is to keep you hydrated and get the antibiotics into your system. Now, I assume I don’t need to worry about you trying to leave again? I assure you it wouldn’t work out well for you in your current state.”

She nodded. She hadn’t really wanted to leave in the first place, and now that she was back, she was oddly relieved.

“Say it.”

“I won’t.”

“Thank you.” His voice was calm and serious as he spoke. She wanted to feel his arms around her again. She could still remember the comfort of it, and it was everything she’d imagined it might be. She was starting to suspect his smiles were few and far between, and his words were always measured and controlled, but there was still an incredible warmth and security to him. There had been no fear when he’d touched her, and his touch felt as quiet as she imagined his soul to be.

He lowered the side rail of the bed. “Now, I know you’re weak, but I need you to sit up and swing your legs over the side.” She thought for a moment he must be crazy to think she would be too weak to sit on her own, but as she pushed herself up from her elbow to sit, her body groaned in argument. God, she really was weak.

He helped her sit up with a gentle hand to her arm, and it was only then she realized she’d been changed into a gown. Not a hospital gown, but a comfortable cotton gown with thin straps. It hugged her body, but the material was so soft and the room so warm, she was more than comfortable.

“Did you change me?” She couldn’t hide the sound of disdain in her voice, but in truth, it was embarrassment. She was dirtier than she’d likely ever been, and the thought of this pristine man taking her clothes off was humiliating.

“Yes.” He offered no other explanation as her cheeks started to burn. His hands moved to cup her jaw as his fingers gently prodded her glands. “Is that painful?” It was, and she nodded. He nodded in response but said nothing. When he grabbed an otoscope, he gently and casually tapped her chin a couple times with his index finger, asking without speaking for her to open her mouth. She did, and he checked her throat. When he leaned to check her ears, he moved close to her body. So close in fact, his upper thigh was snug to her knee, and she was mere inches from his groin. Her heart fluttered, and as it did, his hand paused mid-movement to her ear. His eyes shifted to hers, but he stayed silent, watching. His jaw tightened again, and she watched as the tight muscles of his throat swallowed over a lump. It all left her warm and trilling in response. She fought to take a breath, and it wasn’t until she did that he returned to his path. When he finally pulled back, he held her eyes steadily.

“Only doctor I know who doesn’t use a stethoscope.” It was just a random observation to fill the silence, but it brought a subtle smirk to his lips.

“I can hear every beat your heart takes … including the nervous fluttering when my leg was up against yours. There’s little you can hide from me.” He held her eyes coolly as warmth rushed to her face again. She couldn’t seem to stop blushing around this man. But then his expression grew serious. “Including, also, the crackling in your lungs. Had you truly disappeared, and I hadn’t been able to find you, I’m not at all sure how you would have fared.”

She looked down at her lap. He was right. She’d gotten sick quickly. She’d been sick a lot lately, tired as well. Couldn’t seem to shake her fatigue more often than not. She had put herself in harm’s way more often too, and she knew it was stupid. This man hadn’t tried to hurt her, fuck her, and more than that, he appeared to actually give a shit if she lived or died. What the fuck was she doing trying to run from him?

Her hands were grimy and disgusting. She could feel the knots in her hair pulling at her scalp. She must smell, especially to a man with his senses. But he’d still touched her. Though smelly and gross, he’d not shied away from her in the least. “May I take a bath?”

“Not yet. In a day or two depending on how well you’re feeling.”

“A day or two?” She sounded a bit incredulous, but he didn’t react. He just studied her.

“Go ahead and lay back down. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He returned shortly with a brush. He handed it to her, before lowering her bed to a normal height and raising the head to prop her up comfortably. He left silently, leaving her alone. She tore through most of the knots in her hair, losing energy every time she raised her hand. She had entirely too much hair to be doing this in her state, but eventually the snarls were out, and she was left with horribly oily, dirty hair that felt gross to the touch but was a far cry better than it had been.

He entered with a basin of water, pulled a rolling chair up to the side of her bed, and dropped a washrag in the steamy warm water as he reached for the brush in her hands. He was silent when he tucked a towel under her arm and lifted her hand to slowly start to wipe away the filth from her skin. Her fingers looked brown and streaky with dirt against his pale masculine fingers, but he seemed not to care at all, focusing on removing the grime instead. His touch was gentle but firm as he scrubbed her skin, and her skin popped with goose bumps as the washrag was moved up her arm.

He stood and moved to the thermostat, cranking it up and then returned to her side. She focused on breathing steadily as he reached for her other hand. She was nervous. But it wasn’t fear. It should be fear of him, but for some reason that was gone. It was more humiliation than anything else. He was too beautiful, and she was too dirty, normal, and pathetic for this to leave her anything but humiliated, and that’s exactly what she felt.

When he reached her chest and neck, she could feel her nipples tighten under the soft fabric, and when she glanced at him, she caught him just as his eyes returned to hers, and they were most definitely moving up from her breasts. But he said nothing. He watched her steadily as he ran the washrag up her throat. She swallowed a lump as his fingers passed over it, and she caught the slightest hint of a smile on his lips.

By the time he was finished, she felt marginally better, but it was a long way from being clean. “It’ll have to do for the time being. I promise, as soon as you’re strong enough.”

She let out a deep sigh as he stood to empty the basin, but he paused and turned back. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks as he stared for a moment longer before turning back to the sink and his agenda.