Seth sank to his haunches so their faces would be on more of an even level, then eased ever closer, extending his right hand, palm up.
You are safe now. Those men will not find you here. Wo n’t you let us help you?
Her gaze dropped to his bloody clothing and hand and a question arose amid the fear in her expression.
He smiled. They did not want to let you go. But we heard you calling out to us and refused to leave without you. Both of us were injured, but we have recovered.
He was close to her now. Almost close enough to touch.
Please. I can feel your pain. Let us ease it. Let us heal you as we did ourselves.
Hesitantly, she reached out and placed her left hand in his.
Seth smiled. Covering it, he slowly slid his other hand up her arm to her elbow. As he did, the cuts, burns, and bruises he touched healed and disappeared.
Her breath caught.
You see? We wish only to help you.
Taking her right hand, careful not to put any pressure on her damaged fingers, he drew her to her feet.
Her ordeal had left her severely weakened. Seth steadied her when she would have staggered and fallen, and sent her another smile. When he looked down to make sure he didn’t tread on her bare feet with his big boots, he froze.
“David, did you heal her foot?” he asked neutrally.
“No, I started with her chest and got no further. Why?”
He met his friend’s concerned gaze. “Her missing toes have grown back.”
“What?” David took a step forward so he could better see her feet. “How is that possible? She’s human.”
Both men looked to the woman for an answer.
The fear returned to her face tenfold.
Chiding herself for being such a coward, Sarah left the kitchen and entered the living room only to find it empty save for Roland, who stood beside the newly stained sofa.
“Where is everybody?”
“Gone,” he said simply, circling the coffee table and slowly approaching her. “Seth had some emergency that required his attention and Marcus was eager to get home.”
“I didn’t even hear them leave.”
His lips quirked wryly. “They didn’t use the door.”
“Oh.” Seth had done that teleportation thing again.
Freaky.
Sarah wrung her hands in front of her in a vain attempt to stop their trembling.
Pausing several feet away, Roland studied her, his crimson-streaked brow furrowed. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, lowering her gaze when her vision wavered with tears. A lump lodged itself in her throat as the trembling spread from her hands to the rest of her body.
“Sarah?” he asked, voice soft with concern.
Shaking her head—she was so not all right—she strode forward until her forehead met his chest.
His arms came around her, strong and reassuring.
Sarah slid her own around his waist and burrowed closer, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Shh,” he whispered. “It’s all right.” His large hands slid up and down her back in long, soothing strokes. “Everything is going to be all right.”
She nodded, embarrassed by her tears, yet helpless to stem their flow.
He rested his chin atop her head and held her tight. “I’m so sorry about all of this, Sarah.”
Shaking her head, she spoke between sniffles. “It isn’t your fault some jerk wants to kill you.”
He laughed and tightened his hold on her. “Yes, but I didn’t have to drag you into it.”
“You didn’t drag me. I pretty much plowed my way in.”
“And, though it’s selfish of me to admit it, I’m very glad you did.”
Her tears abated beneath his tender, calming influence. Raising her head, Sarah took a step back, a little disappointed when his arms fell away.
“I’m sorry I keep crying.” She swiped at her damp cheeks. “You must think I’m a total basket case.” Her body was still racked with shivers, yet he was as relaxed as though they had just spent a pleasant day sightseeing.
He raised a hand, brushing the hair at her temple back with gentle fingers. “If you knew what I truly thought of you, you would never stop blushing.”
She stared up at him. “I wouldn’t?”
He slowly wagged his head from side to side. “You were magnificent today. Confronted with a dozen men armed with semi- and automatic weapons, you didn’t panic. You wielded your 9mm with cool precision and faced down three of them on your own, then saved my ass. Again. And Marcus’s.”
His view of what had happened sounded a lot better than her own. “I was terrified,” she countered. Not cool under fire. Not magnificent. Terrified. “I thought you were going to die. When I saw you with all those wounds and the sun scorching your skin … I thought you were going to die, Roland.” And damned if more tears didn’t well up and spill over her lashes just at the thought of it.
He stared at them as though mesmerized. “Blood loss will not kill me. It may hurt like hell, but it won’t kill me. I can slow my pulse and metabolic rate so that I can survive as long as it takes for another blood source to come along. But the sun … The sun will roast me, Sarah, when I’m that injured and I don’t know that I would have made it to the forest if you hadn’t hauled us there, then called in the cavalry. Are those tears for me?”
She almost didn’t catch the question tacked onto the end with no pause. “Yes,” she admitted. “I’ve gotten a little attached to you.”
His brown eyes turned amber, began to glow. “I’ve grown attached to you, too.” He stroked a finger along her jawline.
She didn’t know what to say to that. “I can’t seem to stop shaking.”
Taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze. “I can remedy that.” He turned and strode through the living room.
Sarah let him pull her along after him into a hallway with several closed doors.
“It’s been a couple of decades or so since Marcus came to visit me,” he said, opening a door on the right. The room inside appeared to be a library. “But he stayed here when he did and I seem to recall him mentioning …” He opened the door across from it and Sarah peered past him into a stairwell that led down into darkness. “A basement,” he finished with a smile. “Excellent.”
She didn’t know how a damp, chilly basement was going to help her, but tromped down the stairs behind him anyway. Perhaps, after the incident with the sun, he found the idea of being underground soothing. She probably would if she were in his position.
The wooden steps were cool beneath her bare feet.
At the bottom lay a wide carpeted hallway that led to the left and to the right. Roland went right and opened the first door they encountered.
When he flicked on the overhead light, she saw it was a lovely bedroom. Not cold or damp at all. “It’ll do,” he announced dismissively.
She glanced up at him. “I liked yours better, too.”
He gave her another of those heart-stopping smiles over his shoulder and drew her forward through the room and into a bathroom nearly as large as the bedroom.
Jeeze. Immortals really had a thing for luxurious bathrooms.
As she glanced around at her opulent surroundings, Roland took her by the shoulder and steered her away from the sinks. “Don’t look in the mirror.”
Which, naturally, made her gaze fly straight to one of the two mirrors mounted above the double sinks. When she saw her reflection, her eyes widened. There was blood smeared all over the middle and left side of her face from forehead to chin. She looked like friggin’ Carrie on prom night.
Roland’s reflection in the mirror grimaced. “Sorry about that. It came off my shirt when I held you.”
“That’s okay.” She refrained from mentioning that seeing her pale, wide-eyed face liberally coated with ruby liquid gave her the creeps.
Crossing to the shower, Roland opened the glass door and leaned in. The faucet squeaked a little as he turned on the hot water. Almost instantly, steam began to spill forth. He turned on the cold tap, adjusted the temperature to suit him, then straightened and turned to face her.