Love Bites (17 page)

Pudge was quicker to recover, and he had his long, wickedly sharp knife at Rachel's throat before she could even attempt to struggle free. “Freeze, lady, or I'll cut your head off,” he gasped.

Rachel froze. She could survive a lot of injuries, but having her head cut off wasn't one of them.

They stared at each other, both panting a bit, when movement on the bed drew their attention. Etienne was down but not out for the count. In all the excitement, Pudge's aim had been off. Etienne was even now sitting up, the stake protruding from his chest a bare inch to the side of where his heart would be.
Rachel nearly sobbed with relief when he tugged the stake free.

Pudge was less impressed. He cursed, then barked, “You freeze too, Argeneau!”

Etienne hesitated, then sank back onto the bed, his eyes narrowed. It was a standoff.

“Well, hell,” Rachel said as she realized Pudge had the upper hand. She really didn't feel she had made a very good showing. She supposed she needed training.

“What are you going to do now, Pudge?” Etienne asked. He was starting to look a little better, and Rachel supposed the nanos must be working like mad to make repairs. He'd need more blood to fuel them, though. Still, he looked pretty nonchalant for someone who'd been staked and whose girlfriend was presently under threat of having her head cut off. If she could call herself his girlfriend. Did sleeping with a man make you his girlfriend? Or was he just thinking of her as—Don't even go there, girlfriend, she warned herself. Now was not the time for that kind of analysis.

“If you cut her head off, you lose your shield,” Etienne continued.

Pudge was silent, but his knife pressed tighter against Rachel's throat. Confusion and uncertainty struggled on his face.

“I've been very patient with you, Pudge—mostly because I've found your antics entertaining to date. But I find you're becoming tiresome. I suggest you leave
and never return, or you shall force me to put an end to our little games. Permanently.”

It was amazing to Rachel that her lover could sit there with a gaping chest wound, yet still sound so threatening. She glanced at Pudge to see if he were equally impressed, and was a tad relieved to note the sweat popping out on his forehead. She just wasn't sure if it would result in a good thing or a bad one. “Up.”

Rachel scrambled to her feet, very aware of the long knife at her throat. She considered trying some fancy footwork in an attempt to break free, but her attempt and failure to save Etienne had rather sapped her confidence. She was afraid she'd make a mess of it as she had earlier.

Once they were both upright, Pudge shifted behind her, using her as the shield Etienne had mentioned.

“Stay back,” Pudge ordered. His voice started out firm but ended on a quavering note that bespoke his fear. Not that Rachel needed that. She could actually smell the fear pouring off him. She didn't know how she recognized the scent but supposed it was a new ability. Most predators had it—dogs could sense fear, as well as cats. She supposed the nanos increased the abilities most useful to their carriers, and this was pretty useful for a predator to have.

“Let her go,” Etienne ordered.

“Stay back.” Pudge began to sidle away, taking Rachel with him.

“You aren't taking her with you.”

“Stay back, or I'll cut off her head,” Pudge warned.

“Don't hurt her. It's your fault I had to turn her in the first place. She would have died from that ax wound you gave her if I hadn't turned her.”

That made Pudge pause. Rachel held her breath as he looked down at her.

“You're the doctor from the hospital.” He sounded surprised. She supposed she'd looked a little less healthy at the time, having just recovered from the flu. She'd been pale and limp-looking, she was sure. She noted the guilt cross his face and felt a moment's hope. He said, “I'm really sorry about axing you, but you shouldn't have jumped between us. I tried to tell you what he was.”

“Let her go,” Etienne repeated.

Rachel felt the hope die in her as Pudge stiffened. His expression turned grim as he pressed the knife tighter to her throat. Apparently his guilt only went so far. “I won't hurt her if you stay right where you are.” He sounded a little more in control now. Rachel couldn't decide if that meant his confidence had increased or if Etienne's repeated warnings were making him comfortably sure of the fact that he had the upper hand.

“If you hurt her, I'll hunt you down and kill you with my bare hands.”

Rachel's eyes shot to Etienne. He looked capable of doing it. Gone was the easy facade, the charming
computer geek. Etienne looked every inch a dangerous predator.

They were all three silent for several minutes as they waited for Pudge to decide what to do next. Rachel didn't have a clue what he
could
do. He couldn't let her go, which rather restricted him. Her gaze slid to Etienne. The bleeding had stopped, but he was looking a little gray around the lips. A lot of the blood left in him was no doubt being used up to repair his wound, she supposed. From what they had told her about his state, she supposed he was in dire need of an infusion. His body would be cramping with his need, and he would be terribly weak and vulnerable.

The only plus was that Pudge wouldn't be aware of that, she decided.

“You'd better decide what you're going to do quickly. His body is nearly done repairing itself, and who knows how much strength he'll have then.” Very little was Rachel's guess, but if Pudge was going by the movies, television or the big screen, he'd probably think otherwise. At least she hoped he would. Judging by the way Pudge's hands tightened on her, she guessed she was right.

Rachel couldn't see his face, but she sensed the bewilderment Pudge was feeling. He asked suspiciously, “Am I supposed to believe you're trying to be helpful?”

Rachel forced herself to relax and managed an unconcerned shrug without beheading herself. “Believe
what you want. I was sneaking out when you broke in,” she said truthfully. She had been sneaking out for a walk, but she didn't bother to mention that. When Etienne's sharp gaze filled with betrayal, she was almost sorry she couldn't. Rachel hated to upset him, but she made herself continue. “I've been forced to stay here since that night in the morgue. I wanted to let my family and friends know I was all right, but calling them was out of the question.” Which was all true, she assured herself as she felt a nervous giggle rise in her throat. She
had
been forced to stay—at least until she learned how to control her teeth and such, and calling anyone
had
been out of the question. She didn't have to specify that it was herself forcing these decisions.

“So I played nice and waited until Etienne was asleep, then was about to leave through the kitchen when I heard you coming in,” she continued. “You blew my plan.”

Etienne was looking upset, but Rachel ignored him. She waited while Pudge digested her words.

“If that's true, why didn't you just leave?” Pudge asked with disbelief. “Why stay and save him?”

Rachel shrugged. “My conscience wouldn't allow it. I couldn't just let you slaughter him in his sleep after he saved my life from the mortal wound
you
inflicted.” She emphasized his part, hoping to bring about a return of the guilt she had seen on his face earlier. When she saw it flicker in his eyes, Rachel decided to drive
the screw a little deeper. “Thanks a lot for that, by the way. Being a bloodsucking demon was never high on my list of dreams and wishes, and I can't tell you how pleased I am that I'll be stuck on the night shift for eternity.”

Pudge actually winced. “I'm sorry,” he said regretfully, then paused and glanced to Etienne. “What do you suggest we do with him to get out of here?”

Rachel considered. She didn't believe for a minute that he now considered them on the same side. She supposed he was testing her. If she gave an answer he didn't like, she'd be in trouble. But then, she was probably in trouble anyway. He seemed to see himself as a modern day Van Helsing, dedicated to eradicating the world of the vampire blight, and she was very aware that put her on his list. Her only hope was to convince him that she was too stupid to realize, and that she believed they were now on the same side. To that end, she was extremely careful with her answer. “Well, I don't want to see him dead after he saved me. If you really want to kill him, you'll either have to try another day when I'm not here, or stake me now and take your chances with him—but I wouldn't if I were you. At normal strength he's fast, agile and stronger than ten men. Right now he's not as strong, but I am. With the two of us, the odds aren't in your favor,” she added.

Pudge was listening, and her honesty in refusing to see Etienne dead seemed to convince him. Rachel
barely let that sink in before adding, “Then too, he has a security system. There are probably several of his kind on their way here right now. So you don't have a lot of time.”

Pudge obviously believed her. Panic flashed across his face.

“If you tie him up,” she went on, “he'll just break his bonds and probably be on us before we're out of the house.” Or at least he would be after consuming some blood, she thought.

“I suppose the best thing you can do is lock him in his office. He's made it proof against competitors of all races,” she explained. Then to sweeten the pot, she added, “It would give you a chance to destroy his latest work too.”

“I should have let you die.” Etienne's cold words drew her eyes back to him. She would have mentally congratulated him on his acting abilities, but she wasn't sure it was an act. She had just admitted to having been sneaking out while he slept, and though she hoped it wasn't true, he might believe everything. No. He knew the truth about vampires, and that she knew better than to think that he was getting stronger right now. Surely he realized she was stretching the truth to save him.

On the other hand, Rachel thought suddenly, his anger might be based on another reason. What if he hadn't saved any of his work, hadn't backed it up against the possibility of losing it? He might lose it
thanks to the suggestion she had just made. But her main concern had been to leave him alive somewhere where there was blood for him to ingest.

Jeez, if he hadn't been sensible enough to save his latest game, Etienne might really wish her dead. But better alive and angry than dead with an intact game.

Pudge shifted, switching the knife at her throat from one hand to the other. She wasn't sure why he'd done it until he swung the rifle from his shoulder to point it at Etienne.

“I know this can't stop you, but I bet it still hurts,” he said. “And I know it will slow you down. So, do what you're told and I won't have to shoot you. We're going to your office.”

 

Etienne felt mingled relief and horror course through him. There was blood in his fridge in his office. He could replenish and repair quickly with it once locked in. He could then get out and hunt Pudge down. His horror was because while this plan saved him, it left Rachel in jeopardy. He had no idea what the man would do with her once he had options, but he assumed it would be villainous. Rachel was ten times stronger than she used to be, but she wasn't invulnerable. Etienne feared she would try something risky after he was safely tucked away.

“Move!” Pudge added an exclamation mark by shooting him.

Etienne grunted and jerked backward where he sat
on the bed. The bullet had torn through muscle and bone. He saw Rachel begin to struggle, only to stop almost as abruptly in the next moment. He understood why when he noted the line of blood at her throat. The bastard had cut her—not deep enough to do serious injury, but he had cut her just the same.

Etienne felt rage course through him, enough to help him gain his feet. He wanted to fly across the room at the man, but he might be useless once he got there. Besides, there was a possibility Pudge might panic and cut her head off, removing her as a threat. Etienne couldn't allow that.

Rachel gritted her teeth but ground out, “I told you I wouldn't allow you to kill him. If you shoot him again, I'll risk losing my head to kill you.”

“Shut up,” Pudge hissed, but some of his confidence left him. Gesturing at Etienne with his rifle, he backed out of the door, dragging Rachel with him. “Out.”

Etienne moved dutifully toward the door, trying not to look as weak as he felt. He was in serious need of blood now, thanks to the newest wound. His thinking processes were becoming muzzy as his body drew blood from the rest of his system. It took all his concentration to keep putting one foot in front of the other to lead the way through the house and down to the basement. Etienne kept trying to think of a way out of this situation as he moved, but nothing came
to mind—nothing that wouldn't jeopardize Rachel further, at any rate.

“Wow!” Pudge was obviously impressed with Etienne's work station. Etienne paused in the middle of the room and turned to watch the man's eyes light up as they roamed over his equipment.

“Man, if I had a setup like this, I'd be the king of games, too,” he said resentfully. Then his gaze landed on the coffin to the side of the door and something else entered his expression. It took Etienne several minutes to realize it was envy.

“Get in it,” he ordered.

Etienne hesitated, then did as he was told as the man jerked his rifle upward. Rachel shifted with a warning growl. Pudge immediately lowered the gun and controlled her by causing another red line of beaded blood where the first had just finished healing.

“I'm going,” Etienne snapped, promising himself he'd repay the man for those wounds soon.

“Close the lid,” Pudge instructed once he was seated inside.

Etienne did as he was told, reclining in the coffin and reluctantly pulling the lid closed. Then he jerked inside the coffin at the sudden explosion of gunfire. At first he thought the idiot was shooting him through the coffin, but when there was no exploding wood and no tearing pain, he decided the fellow was shoot
ing up the room. The boom of either a monitor or a computer exploding verified this, and Etienne grimaced at the scent of burning circuits and melting plastic.