Single White Vampire (Argeneau #3)(70)

Moving to her side, Lucern knelt and slipped his hands under Kate, then lifted her into his arms. She barely stirred as he carried her over and laid her on the bed. He noticed the strip of cloth around her wrist as he started to straighten. Picking up her hand, he unwrapped the makeshift bandage. Concern filled him. The gash in her flesh had clotted and was no longer bleeding, but he couldn't tell how deep it was. He didn't think she needed stitches, since it was already closed, but…

He grabbed the phone and called down to the front desk, requesting bandages and antiseptic, then pondered how she might have received the injury. The only thing he could think of was that she had gotten it somehow during the battle. He now regretted letting the man go so lightly. He should have—

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the outer door. The first-aid items had arrived. He went and got them without letting the bellhop in, then went back to attend to Kate. He cleaned her injury and carefully wrapped it, then set her hand gently on her chest and pulled the covers up over her.

He left her sleeping while he stripped off his ruined clothes and showered the blood away. Then he slid into bed, too, being sure to stay as far away from her as he could. He didn't want to risk bumping Kate's arm or have her getting upset when she awoke. He would sleep on his side of the bed.

Of course, he hadn't considered that Kate might not stay on her side. He had just started to doze off when Kate rolled over, throwing her hand across his chest and snuggling up like she belonged there. Oddly enough, it felt like she did.



Kate was slow to wake, almost reluctant to face the world. It took a moment for her foggy brain to remember what had happened; then Lucern's image slipped into her mind. She stiffened and opened her eyes. The first thing her gaze fell on was Lucern's chin. She stared at it for a moment, then reluctantly lowered her eyes to his chest, afraid to find the gaping hole there. When she saw bedding, she sat up abruptly, startled to find herself in bed with him. Her gaze swept the room in confusion—only to find it all in order. Had it all been a dream? she wondered vaguely.

Her eyes fell on the floor in front of the mini-refrigerator, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Obviously, someone had tried to wash away blood, and had managed to remove the worst of it, but there was still a large, faint stain. Turning back to Lucern, Kate tugged the blankets down.

A sob surprised her by breaking from her throat at the sight of his unmarred chest. Both relieved and amazed, she ran the tips of her fingers lightly over the perfect skin there, then she closed her eyes and tried to calm her wildly beating heart. He was alive!

A warm hand closed over hers, and Kate opened her eyes again. Lucern was awake, and he peered at her and clasped her hand.

"You saved my life," he said solemnly. "Thank you."

Kate glanced away, her gaze finding the closet and the empty floor in front of it. "The man who attacked you—"

"I cleared his mind and sent him home."

She stared at him in horror. "Sent him home? He attacked you."

"I could hardly call the police and try to explain the situation," Lucern pointed out. He shrugged, then added, "Besides, he wasn't well. His mind is… wrong."

"Why did he attack you? Was he at the conference? Does he—"

"No, he wasn't a conference attendee. He lives here in the city. Apparently, his wife was a big romance fan. When she left him, he wanted someone to blame it on. He decided it was all those books she was reading." He shrugged. "He started reading them for himself, and when he got to mine, he got the idea that I was a vampire. He saw our picture in the paper and knew that I was in town, and he decided that I had taken control of his wife's mind and lured her away from him. He began to believe that if he could just destroy me, her mind would be set free. He believed she would come back to him."

Kate stared at Lucern, her thoughts racing. He sounded so understanding.

She had felt helpless and useless last night, and had suffered a great sense of loss at the possibility that he might be dead—more loss than was appropriate for one of her writers. There was really no use fighting it anymore. Kate knew her feelings for this man ran deep. She had thought him brilliant and talented before ever meeting him, had found him surly and rude on arriving at his home, then had seen other sides of him slowly show themselves, like the legs, arms and head of a turtle. She had come to see that the hard shell he showed the world was just that, a shell, a shield meant to protect himself. He was smart and strong, but he was also compassionate and kind. A man had nearly killed him, and yet Lucern found it in his heart to feel sorry for him. She heard the compassion in his voice. It was as soft and open as his expression. His shield seemed to be missing entirely this morning, and she had no idea why. She almost wished it weren't so. Perhaps then she would be able to battle the wealth of feelings welling up within her.

"Kate?"

Her eyes refocused on his face.

"How is your head?" he asked. "I saw you hit it on the clothing rod before I lost consciousness last night."

"My head is in bad shape," she told him solemnly.

Concern entered his gaze. "It is?" He sat up and reached for her, his fingers running gently over the back of her head. "I took a look last night, but there wasn't much of a bump. I thought…" He fell silent when she placed her hand against his chest where the stake had been. The bedding pooled around his waist, leaving endless flesh bare to her view.