Scarlet Heat (Born to Darkness) (6 page)

I let her lead me in.

* * * * *

Taylor

I sighed in relief when the wolf finally moved
past me into the house. I didn’t know if it was Victor or not but I couldn’t
leave it out there with that cruel trap on its paw. If it wasn’t Victor, I
hoped he wouldn’t mind me having a strange animal in his house. But I would
have to deal with that later. Right then I had a patient to treat.

I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about the
treatment though. This animal was huge—as big as a mastiff if not bigger. It
seemed quiet enough now, sitting there on the kitchen floor with its hurt paw
held stiffly out in front of it. But what would happen when I tried to remove
the trap?

I took a deep breath.
I’m a vampire,
I reminded myself.
I’ll heal if it injures me.
Of course, that didn’t mean having my
face torn off by an angry, hurt wolf wouldn’t hurt like hell, but I could deal
with it. I had dealt with worse pain in the past six years.

Speaking of pain, I cast a quick look at the blistered
skin of my hands, arms and legs. My hair had mostly shielded my face but it was
going to take a little while for the marks of the sun to fade from my body.
Victor’s blood was helping some though—already the blisters were going down, fading
to angry red marks that didn’t feel nearly as bad as they looked. In a day or
two my skin would probably be as pale and smooth as it had been before I had
ventured out into the dawn’s early light.

The wolf whined softly and I felt a stab of
guilt. Here I was worried about a few blisters when this poor animal was in
excruciating pain. I had to get that trap off its leg and I had to do it
fast—before the sun outside forced me to sleep.

I wished briefly for the instruments and
materials I’d had back at veterinary college. What I really needed was a
syringe full of Lidocaine to numb the paw before I tried to remove the trap.
But there was nothing like that here—I would have to do my best and hope the
wolf understood.

“Hey, sweet boy,” I said soothingly. “I need to
take that nasty mean trap off your leg. I’ll try not to hurt you but I’m afraid
it won’t be easy. Can you be a good wolf and let me try?”

The wolf cocked its head to one side as though it
was trying hard to understand me.
Was
it
Victor in there? If so, he might not appreciate the way I was baby-talking him.
But I couldn’t help myself—this was how I dealt with all my animal patients. Or
had, anyway, back before I was turned.

“I need to see your paw now, boy. Can you let me
do that?” I took a slow step forward and held out my hand, as though I was
asking the wolf to “shake.”

The wolf looked at me a long time from its golden
eyes and then, slowly, extended the hurt paw.

“Good boy,” I said soothingly. “Who’s the
sweetest, best boy? Everything is going to be all right, fella. You’ll see.”

Slowly, trying not to startle him, I got a grip
on the cruel silver trap. There was something malicious about it—something evil
that gave me a shiver when I touched it. God, I hadn’t even known anyone still
made these horrible things. What sick bastard would have put one out where some
poor, wild animal would step in it and probably lose a leg or a paw? I had
gotten the impression that Victor owned all the land around his house—so who
was putting traps out on his property?

Well, that was a question for whenever my new
husband came home. Unless he was sitting right here in front of me, in which
case, I really hoped he didn’t chew my face off when I released the trap.

I searched for some kind of release mechanism but
the silver metal was slick with blood and I wasn’t having any luck. Plus, I was
getting worried about the circulation to the paw. How deeply had the trap sunk
into the wolf’s flesh? Were any of the bones broken? Outside, I could feel the
sun climbing in the sky, weighing heavily on me. I needed to get the damn trap
off and fast.

There was only one thing to do—I would simply
have to try and pull it apart. I was certain I couldn’t have done it back when
I was human but as a vampire, I might have a chance.

Gripping the two sides of the trap as firmly as I
could, I looked at the wolf.

“Okay, sweet boy,” I told him. “Here goes. I’m
going to try and set you free. Please don’t bite me if it hurts.” Then I
pulled, using a long, slow, steady motion I hoped would release the silver jaws
smoothly and with as little pain as possible.

At first I didn’t think the trap would come
loose—it was really gripped tight around the wolf’s leg—probably some of the
silver teeth were buried in bone. But I wasn’t about to give up. I increased
the pressure steadily until finally it sprang loose.

Several things happened at once. The wolf jumped
backward with a howl of pain, just as the jaws parted. Its paw yanked free and
the blood-slick trap slipped and sprang out of my hands almost like a live
thing. For a moment I thought it was going to snap shut on my arm and again I
had the feeling that it was evil—that there was actual malicious intent behind those
bloody silver teeth. I pulled my hand back just in time, though—sometimes
vampire speed comes in handy—and it clattered harmlessly to the floor, its jaws
snapping shut on empty air.

I had an impulse to kick it away but I didn’t
want to do that with bare feet. Instead, I grabbed the broom from behind the
kitchen door and pushed it into the corner where it would hopefully be out of
harm's way. Then I looked at the wolf, which was licking its hurt paw.

“I still need to examine you,” I told him, using
my softest voice. “We need to get that cleaned up and bandaged. Can you come
with me?”

It didn’t object when I came forward and put my
hand on its ruff, though it did whine a little when I tried to coax it out of
the kitchen.

“What boy? What is it?” I asked as it gazed up at
me with those liquid gold eyes. “What do you want?” Then I had an idea—maybe it
was hungry.

Going to the fridge, I got a pack of precooked
bacon, then changed my mind and added two more packs. I ripped one open and
pulled out several stiff slices. Holding them enticingly in front of the wolf’s
nose, I began to lead him out of the kitchen.

“Come on, boy. Is this what you want? Is it?”

He snapped up the first two pieces of bacon,
woofed
happily and followed me for more.
Good, now we were getting somewhere.

The wolf must have been really hungry because he
had nearly finished the first pack of bacon by the time I got him to the
bathroom. I blessed the forethought that had told me to bring two more packs
and set to work.

I needed to get the paw washed and dressed and I
needed to do it quickly. The sun was rising higher by the minute and I was
fading quickly. I could feel the need to sleep pressing down on me, dragging at
my eyelids like lead weights.
God,
I
was tired.

I splashed some cold water in my face as I ran
some in the sink, which helped to wake me up a little. Then I found a washcloth
(navy blue, what else) and got it wet before turning back to the wolf.

He looked at me warily when I approached him with
the cloth but I spoke soothingly and—more importantly—opened the second pack of
bacon. It was a tricky situation but by the time he had finished the second
pack, I had managed to clean the wounds and ascertain that the bones seemed to
be intact. That was a relief—I was so tired by now I was yawning continuously
and there was no way I could take him out to a vet to get it set if it had been
broken.

Stumbling with weariness, I got the first aid kit
out of the closet, and came back to the wolf, who had finished pack two and was
looking longingly at pack three of the precooked bacon.

“You’re going to have a stomach ache tomorrow,” I
predicted as I opened the last pack with a yawn. “But if it keeps you quiet
while I work, I guess you can have some more.” I dug the roll of gauze out of
the kit and got started dressing the wound.

My eyes were nearly closing as I finished winding
the gauze around the wolf’s massive paw and secured it in place with a little
tape.

“Okay now,” I told him sternly. “I’m going to let
you back outside but don’t chew on that. Be…” I yawned. “Be a good boy—all
right?”

He whined softly and I had the idea that somehow
he understood. Well, goody for me—I could apparently now speak wolf language.
The thought struck me as funny and I giggled foolishly. Have you ever been so
tired it was like you were drunk? That was me just then. Dawn was past and the
morning was well advanced—I was so sleepy I could barely stand up from the
floor where I had been sitting to treat the wolf’s injuries.

In fact, I
couldn’t
stand. When I finally got to my feet, I swayed alarmingly. I’m sure I would
have fallen if the wolf hadn’t come up beside me and put his back just under my
seeking hand. I threaded my fingers through his fur as though he was a Seeing
Eye dog and I was blind.

“C’mon, boy,” I mumbled, staggering out of the
bathroom. “Time to go…outside.”

I had every intention of taking him back to the
kitchen door and letting him out. After all, I was about to be dead to the
world—there was no telling how much damage the animal might do while I was
asleep. Plus, I couldn’t keep a wild wolf in Victor’s house without his
permission.

“C’mon,” I mumbled again and started to lead the wolf
to the kitchen. Only, I soon found I was no longer the one leading. The wolf
pressed against my legs, guiding me toward the bed.

“Hey, no,” I protested with another bone-cracking
yawn. “Can’t…can’t let you stay. Have to go outside now…boy.”

I started for the kitchen again but again the
wolf cut me off. He pressed hard against me, herding me as though I was a stupid
sheep going the wrong way.

Finally I gave up.

“All right, you win,” I muttered, allowing him to
push me to the king sized bed. The sides seemed higher than I remembered. I
tried for almost a minute to climb in before I felt the wolf’s furry head
nudging me in the bottom, giving me a boost.

“Thanks, boy,” I whispered, collapsing on my
side. “Good boy. Such a good…boy.”

My eyes were already closing but to my surprise,
the wolf came around the bed and hopped up, taking the other side.

“Hey now,” I protested, trying to sit up and
failing. “You can’t…can’t do that. Fur on…the sheets. Victor will be…pissed.”

But the wolf wasn’t budging. And at this point,
neither was I. I barely had strength to roll over, let alone try to push him
off the bed. With a sigh, I gave up. Let him stay—there was nothing I could do
about it now.

My eyes closed but I was cold. Marshalling my
flagging strength, I tried for a minute to get under the covers but I
couldn’t…they were tucked in too tightly. Whoever had taught Victor to make a
bed must have been into hospital corners.

With a little moan, I curled in on myself, trying
to tuck my arms and legs into the white t-shirt I still wore and gather a
little warmth.
Cold…so cold.
It was
the story of my undead life. Ever since I had been turned, I could never seem
to get warm enough, no matter what I did.

To my sleepy surprise, the wolf seemed to
understand my problem. He scooted closer to me, pushing his long furry back
against my front until I found my face buried in his ruff. And oh, he was so
warm.

With a little sigh of contentment, I wound my
arms around his furry neck and pressed closer, letting the delicious animal
heat penetrate to my bones. His fur tickled my nose but I didn’t care. He
smelled wild and yet, somehow familiar. Like fur and leather and sunlight in
the woods.

Speaking of sunlight, I could feel the sun rising
to full glory overhead and I couldn’t stay awake any longer. Between my
terrible weariness and the delicious feeling of finally being warm, I couldn’t
hold my eyes open anymore.

I nestled closer to the wolf and let sleep claim
me.

* * * * *

“Mmm, you’re so warm,”
I murmured as I rolled over in Victor’s arms. He had a smooth chest
after all—not hairy as I had imagined. I pressed my cheek to the hard, warm
muscle and listened to the steady beat of his heart.

“And you’re so soft,” he growled in my ear. One large hand slid down my
bare back and cupped my bottom as he pulled me closer. I could feel him rubbing
against me everywhere—my tight nipples pressing against his chest, my sensitive
pussy mound rubbing against his thigh. The hard ridge of his cock branding my
belly.

Looking down, I realized we were naked, both of us completely bare and
pressed together in the most intimate way possible. Some part of me knew this
ought to bother me. That I should be frightened—Victor was so big. And I
shouldn’t want to do this—hadn’t I sworn never, never again?

But for the life of me I couldn’t remember why I should be frightened or
upset. I only knew how good it felt to be in his arms. How right.

“You feel so good in my arms, baby,” Victor murmured in my ear. “Want to
touch you now.”