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“That’s enough, Michael,” Derrick cut him off, breaking into the one-way conversation. “The reason I called was to tell Dad I wouldn’t be into work this week. I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Derrick stared out at the Boston skyline through the wall of windows on the one side of his apartment, his blood boiling over his brother’s callousness. His brother was one of their kind who’d be happier if they were the only superior beings on this planet.

“I thought you’d want the opinion of your wiser, and obviously more sensible, brother. But then again, you’ve never listened to me. Why should you start now?” He paused for a second, and Derrick could hear the weight machine in the background. Michael never felt he was large enough. He constantly worked out to improve his already stellar physique. It drove Michael crazy that even with his two inches of height and twenty extra pounds, Derrick could still pin him. The clang of the steel plate clinking into place echoed through the phone, and his brother’s breath filled the line again. “Personally, I don’t see the infatuation.”

Derrick rested his head against the cool glass, irritated that he’d even taken the time to call, wishing his father hadn’t already left for work, forcing him to converse with his younger brother, who for some reason seemed to think he was in charge. Derrick needed to return to the room before Kristina woke up. She’d be confused, he was certain. “You make it sound as if I have a different woman every week. You know there hasn’t been anyone in my sights other than her. I’ve waited fourteen years for Kristina.”

“Freak!” His brother let out a roar of laughter. “Just make sure I’m around when you tell Vic. I don’t want to miss that.”

Derrick squeezed his eyes together, resisting the urge to chuck the phone across the room. For some reason, Michael could roil him up faster than anyone else could. “I’ve already settled this with Vic. We’ve had this conversation, and we just don’t agree—on anything. And I’m not a freak. I had to protect Kristina all these years, since she didn’t have anyone else. I knew she’d mature to be as smart and strong as her mother whom I greatly admired.” Janelle had been one of the smartest women he’d worked with when he was interning. She’d been trying to better her life while carrying the responsibilities of a single mother.

A snort boomed through the phone’s speaker. “Yeah, I saw how much you admired Janelle.”

“You know it was never like that,” Derrick defended himself. “I had a fondness for her, but I was too young. We worked together, nothing more. Kristina’s perfect. She’s everything I saw in her mother but with a lot more spunk.”

“Well, you obviously have more than a fondness for Kristina,” Michael responded with a chuckle. For someone who hated humans, his brother sure rattled off plenty of innuendos, making it clear where his mind was most of the time. Of course, Michael had the mentality of a twenty-three-year-old male. It didn’t matter what their species when the hormones were in full swing.

Derrick, on the other hand, had only one woman on his mind, which had been the case for the last few years. He’d just been biding his time. “Kristina is special. She’s had a hard life and hasn’t dealt with her troubles in the correct way, but she’s strong. She’s caring and wonderful. And she’s smart. She’s definitely the woman I want to spend my life with. Even if I end up being alone a few years, she’ll be worth it.

“Whatever,” Michael grunted, and Derrick could picture him throwing his hands up in frustration. Like Vic, his brother was another person he rarely agreed with. Yeah, they all got along, but when it came to their beliefs, his two best friends, Michael and Vic, saw things differently than he did and weren’t shy about voicing their opinions. They continually harassed him every time he mentioned Kristina.  “You don’t even know if she’ll want you, or how she’ll react when she finds out you knew her mother. That’ll mess with her head. And then, if she doesn’t choose you—” Michael broke off, not finishing his words. His brother knew Derrick understood what he was inferring.

Derrick’s heart thrashed in his chest at Michael’s insinuation. His hands broke out in a sweat causing his grip to slip on the phone. “You haven’t spoken with anyone, have you? I haven’t told Kristina anything, I swear.” The line was quiet and Derrick squeezed the phone in his hand, almost crushing it. He had to remember his own strength sometimes. “Michael, tell me you haven’t said anything,” he demanded.

“No, man. I haven’t said a word,” his brother finally said through a groan.

Derrick expelled a breath of relief. “Thank you. I just need a few more days. She’s through the worst part.”

“Where is she now?” Michael asked. A note of concern in his brother’s tone surprised Derrick. Michael had made it clear on several occasions how he felt about Kristina, most humans for that matter. Why would he even care if she made it through alive?

“Still sleeping. Her fever was high and her pressure was through the roof. I almost lost her. As you know, it’s not always safe to bring someone down like that. But she has a strong heart, and I didn’t have time to wait for days or weeks while I tapered her off slowly.”

“Why didn’t you just give her Valium?”

“Because the last thing Kristina needed—”

“No!” Kristina’s scream reverberated through the apartment, breaking through their conversation. She’d woken up several times in the last couple of days with cold sweats and tremors, but this time, her cry resembled one of her nightmares. It angered him that she still suffered nightly from memories of her mother’s murder, memories of what that butcher had stolen from her. Maybe now he could help her through them.

“I gotta go,” Derrick said, hanging up, not waiting for a reaction from his brother.

He barreled across the living room, but inched open his bedroom door quietly so as not to startle her. Kristina was still out cold, so it’d been a nightmare. He didn’t want her to wake before he had a chance to put everything away, but he needed to check her vitals before doing anything else. He sat on the chair beside the bed where he’d spent the last forty-eight hours watching over her. Droplets of moisture still dotted her forehead, but she wasn’t as pale as she’d been only hours earlier. He reached for her wrist to check her pulse and her eyes popped open.

She tried to sit up, but the straps impeded her movement. “What the—”

“Hang on. It’s okay,” he scrambled to explain.

Okay?” she screamed. “You’ve tied me up?”

“Restrained you,” he countered. “There’s a difference.” Ignoring her full-on glower, he reached for her wrist again, checking her pulse. It had dropped to a safe level, but it was still high for her age. Of course, being tied up could cause that reaction, he reasoned.

He unlatched one restraint, and she immediately drew her arm to her chest. “Why did you restrain me?”

“You had the DTs, Kristina. You were hallucinating, screaming at the walls, but I think you’re finally safe.” He unbuckled her other wrist, his eyes gauging her overall health. Her lovely shade of peach had returned to her face, and her skin was more luminescent than the dehydrated state she’d been in for two days. Actually, she looked better than she had in years. “How do you feel?”

She moistened her chapped lips with her tongue before speaking. “Thirsty. Tired.”

“I’ll bet.” He handed her the bottle of water he’d left on the nightstand. She unscrewed the top and took a long pull, her eyes holding his with a hint of caution. He offered her a smile. Not only to comfort her, but because he was overjoyed that she appeared to be over the worst part. “It’s not easy to quit drinking cold turkey, but you did it. You’re going to be okay.” He hesitated. “Unless you start drinking again, that is.”