When he told her they needed to leave, her face fell, but she nodded. She understood, and his heart warmed at her want to stay here with him—even if it wasn’t possible. He leaned to her mouth again, dipping a gentle tongue between her lips and tasting her smooth, silken skin. He could still taste the subtle hint of his own blood, and he had to admit, he loved she had to take all of her wants and needs of the world from him alone. He meant it when he said he wouldn’t wish it on her; it was a chain she didn’t deserve, but if she had to be tethered, there was no one he’d rather see her tethered to than him.
Chapter 21
She allowed him to hold her hand as he drove them back to Boston. He hated every mile that took them closer to their problems and threats, and he wanted nothing more than to run away with her. She watched him with a curious expression. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for her, knowing so many things were missing from her mind. He felt guilty for it, but he also knew well enough his hand had been forced in the matter. He’d never wanted to wipe months of himself from her life, and he knew even as he was being forced to do it there would be consequences. But the expression on her face now wasn’t anger, resentment, distrust, or any of the other many negative emotions she’d felt toward him over the past many weeks. It was curiosity.
She studied him as he stroked her hand. When he’d catch her watching, he’d smile, and her eyes would flit away in shyness. Of course she felt shy in front of him. It was simply her nature for one, and for another, she still had no idea just how intimate and deep their relationship and commitment went. It was like the proverbial morning after all over again. He’d made love to her countless times, but for the Ember in this place and time, it was the very first time with him; hell, it was the very first time period. Her body wasn’t technically a virgin when he’d made love to her the night before, but her emotions were completely virginal, and the look in her eyes right now showed it clearly. And he was enjoying her sheepishness very much.
“Did I always enjoy sex like I did last night … and this morning?” Her eyes were still shy, but she held his as he glanced to her.
He smiled as his eyebrows shot up. “Oh, yeah. You were insatiable from the word go. Nervous, tentative, and so damn shy … not so different than you are now … but you always let me push you, and you always enjoyed what we did together.” Could she blush, she’d be scarlet, and his brows shot up again. He squeezed her hand as he finished his statement.
She was silent the remainder of the trip, and when they pulled to the curb outside of their building, he caught the look of unease on her face before she offered a small smile. He leaned to her mouth as the valet Jonathan waited patiently by the side of the car. He kissed and pulled her lips between his own. The quiet, wet sound of their lips was causing his groin to tighten with every sweet, suctioned, smacking sound. He was ready for her again, not that there was anything new about that, and it was only after his mouth had its fill of her taste that he finally opened the door and rounded to Ember’s side of the car. Jonathan continued to wait patiently for him to hand over his keys, and as he walked Ember to the curb, he nodded to the man, and Ember smiled at Jonathan before his car was pulled from the curb to be parked in their underground parking garage below the building. He pulled her into a tight hug and a sweet kiss before pulling her behind him toward the entrance to their building. His entire being was begging for her at this point, and his brain was going over every last step they would have to make before he could get inside her body again.
It was only when Ember suddenly yanked her hand from his that he stopped moving. He’d just stepped into the building’s overlarge revolving door, intending to pull her into his section with him, but as he rounded to her in surprise, the glass partition was pushed inward, closing him off from her. Behind her and holding her up against the glass separating them was a man he knew well. Mason held her throat in his grasp, and she was still as a statue as she held Truman’s gaze. For the briefest of moments, Truman wondered why she wasn’t struggling until he saw the syringe with its needle impaled fully in her neck. It wasn’t yet discharged, and he could see the blood in the clear cylinder.
Truman’s panic built as he looked to her face. Her entire body was vibrating in fear, and her slightly parted lips were quivering. Her eyes were wide, and her tears sat barely restrained on her lower lids. As her eyelids fluttered, first one tear and then another trickled down her pale, smooth cheeks. Truman tried to control the grimace at what he was seeing for her benefit, but it was useless.
Two of Mason’s men were standing on the outside of the building holding the back glass partition of Mason and Ember’s section, and as he tried to force his partition backward and then forward, they held tight to the door, keeping it in place. Truman was trapped and being forced to watch. He knew what was in the syringe, living human blood—the most toxic substance that could be introduced into her nonliving bloodstream. He had no idea how much her body could take without it killing her, and he was desperate, crazed, in his need to reach her before it was too late.
His hands were on the glass, and he was looking at only her eyes as he fell apart in panic. He slammed his body against the glass, but it was no use. The building was designed to protect his kind—ironic that Mason would be able to use this very thing to destroy him. He slammed his fist against the glass, hoping against all hope he was strong enough to shatter it, but instead, he listened as his bones splintered and crunched under the force. The pain was present, but his body and mind were focused solely on her, and he felt nothing.
When Mason slowly pushed the syringe’s plunger, Ember’s eyes bulged and Truman let out a ferocious howl of emotional pain. He was yelling and screaming, kicking and punching at the glass. When Mason bit into her neck, he sucked and pulled harshly against her throat, and her pale skin paled further under the draining effect of Mason’s vigorous feeding. Her eyes were fluttering, and she was struggling to focus on him, and all Truman could do was hold her eyes as long as they remained open. When they closed and Mason pulled from her, he let loose her body, and she crumpled to a heap on the ground in front of him.
Mason licked his lips as Truman watched and kicked her limp body once before slipping out the crack in his section that led to the exterior. One of the men with him wedged a piece of rebar into the track of the rotating door, sealing Truman in his partition with no way to reach the interior of the building to get help and no way to push his way to Ember. As Mason and his men turned and walked casually away, he fell to his knees, pleading with her to get up. She was too far drained to respond, but he was desperate. He could hear her heart’s overly slow beat, but he could also smell the havoc the living blood was causing her body. Her organs and tissues were breaking down as he watched, and as the first visible sign showed itself in the dribble of blood that trickled from her nose, he wailed and pounded against the glass.
It was only moments later that Jonathan reappeared from parking his car, though it felt like an eternity, and when he saw Ember’s limp body and Truman’s trembling hands clawing to get through to her, he tugged the door. Seeing the rebar, he pulled hard to dislodge it from the track, having to try multiple times before it finally came free. Truman pushed to the interior of the building, and exiting, pulled Ember’s section toward him, scooping her up in his arms the moment he could reach her. He rushed to the elevator, entered, and then pounded on the tenth floor button where Ember had spent her first many days.
He sank to the floor of the elevator with Ember in his lap, and he bit harshly into his wrist, holding it up to her mouth. She was alive, but not conscious enough to feed. He parted her lips and clenched and released his fist to empty as much blood from his wrist into her mouth as possible, but without a strong pulse of his own, the blood only trickled out, dripping pathetically into her mouth. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, he stood swiftly and darted toward Bremmer’s residence. He pounded loudly, yelling the man’s name, and when the doctor opened his door, Truman pushed past him, laying Ember on the nearest sofa.