It wasn’t that Adrian had never been hurt in front of her before. They’d been each other’s constant companions for over two months, and the majority of that time had been spent fighting multiple vampires at once. Really, this fight had been almost anticlimactic in comparison—with two exceptions. The fact that Troy Wilson had actually been there and taken part in the confrontation. And the fact that Adrian had gotten seriously wounded.
Kendall dropped Adrian’s armory bag to the floor after she and Hailey—mostly Hailey—got him settled on the couch in Hailey’s living room. Her heart was still racing, and he was still bleeding. She didn’t know what to do. He’d been hurt before, but not like this.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t take him to the hospital or something?” Hailey asked, stepping back into the room with a heavy towel and a shoebox sized tin. “I don’t know how much this stuff is going to help.” She indicated her armload.
“No, I … I don’t think so,” Kendall said, sinking to her knees beside the sofa. They couldn’t trust the local hospital, or clinic, or whatever the town even had. She didn’t know how far they’d have to go to get somewhere they could trust. Adrian had told her nearly at the beginning of their partnership that he didn’t like hospitals and didn’t like to go to them. She hadn’t thought she’d need to question that judgment.
“Kendall,” Hailey said, “one of those vampires took a bite out of him. My gauze wraps aren’t going to be enough for that.”
Bile burned up the back of Kendall’s throat as her gaze betrayed her and slipped back down to the wound she had a better view of now. Blood continued trickling out of his torso, further soaking his ruined shirt and the remnants of the coat around it. It had probably already seeped into the blanket they’d thrown haphazardly over the sofa before laying him down. His flesh was red and jagged, and if she looked too closely Kendall thought she could see actual muscle, the under-the-skin kind, as opposed to the photogenic kind. This is all my fault.
“It’s important to remember that most Slayers ultimately die in battle. It’s the single biggest hazard of their job.” Brianna’s words whispered, unbidden and unexpected, through Kendall’s mind. Kendall had been worried Adrian had been slain in the fight with Boris—a fight she couldn’t have anticipated—and been wracked with guilt. Brianna had spoken those words in an attempt to offer her comfort, before they’d learned that Adrian had survived.
But had he managed to survive a fight with an evil Original, just to die hunting a cowardly murderer?
Hailey settled a hand gingerly on her shoulder. “It’s probably best you don’t throw up on him,” she said.
Kendall sucked in a shaky breath and nodded.
“We have to do something,” Hailey said after a moment, her hand falling away. “Is there … someone you can call? Does he have friends, or backup, or something?”
Kendall licked her lips. She could call home. Brianna would have someone on a plane within the hour. But would that be any good for Adrian?
“If anything ever happens to me,” Adrian said, holding her captive with a burning stare, “and you aren’t sure what to do, call Jasen. But no hospitals.”
She’d entirely forgotten he’d said that. She never had understood why, but she had the impression he was comparatively okay with Jasen. There was no time, let alone opportunity, to question it now. “Actually,” Kendall said, reaching for her pocket again, “there is someone, maybe.” He was busy with his own hunt. She’d have heard if he’d already been successful. But this was important, and technically it was just a phone call.
Hailey nodded and moved away in some kind of effort to give her breathing room.
The phone rang exactly once. “Why are you calling me?” The faintly distorted, but nevertheless familiar, displeased tone of Jasen Hawthorne’s voice in Kendall’s ear settled the top layer of her seemingly endless panic.
She swallowed and hoped her voice would be clear enough. “Hi. Um. I—we—have a problem. I mean … Adrian’s hurt. It looks pretty bad. He said to call you if anything ever happened, and I don’t know what to do—”
“Slayers heal,” Jasen said, talking over her building ramblings. “You know that.”
“Right, of course, but someone took a—” She cut herself off and drew another breath. “This is worse. What if he can’t heal fast enough? He said no hospitals, but I’m not a doctor. I don’t do stitches, and he’s still bleeding.” Not a lot, but he was, so it counted.
“Why are you calling me for this?”
She paused, wanting to be honest, and a little afraid he would hang up if she said the wrong thing. “He said to,” she repeated. “I think … he trusts you, for whatever reason.” She held tighter to the phone. “Besides, for most of my life I’ve been told to call you if I’m in a bad situation, so why wouldn’t I?”
There was a faint snapping sound in the background, something she couldn’t quite make out. Before she could ask about it, he said, “Send me pictures, then. I’ll call back after I get them.” He disconnected before she could respond.
Kendall stared at her phone for a long, confused minute.
“Uh, don’t get me wrong,” Hailey said from somewhere behind Kendall, “but that guy sounded rude.”
Kendall let out a huff that wound up being a half hysterical laugh and lowered the phone to her lap. “He’s totally rude. But he comes through.” She lifted her attention to Adrian, who remained unconscious. “I guess I’m taking pictures.”
****
Troy barged into the Sheriff’s office with little regard for the burn of the setting sun. He already hurt like hell, and if it weren’t for the woman he’d sucked dry just minutes before that Slayer’s stupid enhanced flash-grenade, he’d probably be spending all fucking night healing up. Instead, he was pissed. With Dylan off prowling, and the other vamp on Sheriff Burt’s payroll officially headless, there was only one man he could vent his frustrations on.
Burt looked up with a start, expression immediately dropping into a displeased frown, and pushed to his feet. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t be visiting me here, Wilson.”
“And I thought your hideout was hidden,” Troy said with a snarl. He wasn’t daunted in the least as he glared up into Burt’s eyes. “That kid of yours is dead, and the fucking Slayer and his bitch got away.” Not to mention she’d broken his damn knee. He was really looking forward to ripping her throat out.
Burt’s lips curled back in a soundless growl, and he turned away, striding to the far window of his office. It faced away from the late afternoon sun, surely on purpose, allowing him to look out without feeling the worst of the burn. “How did they find you?”
Anger surged hot through Troy’s blood, making the stump of his left arm pulse almost painfully. “That’s what I want to know! I’ve been down there for three fucking days, staying off the street like we agreed.”
Burt curled his hands into fists. “And Dylan?”
“Damned if I know,” Troy said. “He bailed after your last visit.”
Burt and Dylan had gotten into an argument, which was mostly just Burt lighting into Dylan over Dylan’s sloppy choice of victim from the night before. Apparently, they generally had a policy of picking off solo tourists, or people who were clearly living on their own and apart from loved ones, apart from people who would search for them. Dylan had messed up, according to Burt, and taken a woman who was traveling with friends.
An unpleasant thought occurred to him, and Troy rolled his neck just to work out a small portion of the tension before he voiced it. “You don’t think he’d have turned sides on us, do you?” He might actually have to re-prioritize if that were the case.
The Sheriff turned away from his window and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Doubtful. But if he has, he’ll die along with the Slayer and that human whore.”
Troy ran his tongue over his fangs. “I’m callin’ dibs on the bitch,” he said. “I’ve got plans for her.”
Burt arched a brow. “You can drink and fuck any number of women in this town. What’s special about that one?”
A grin lifted Troy’s lips. “I’m gonna Turn her, then kill her again, and ship the pieces of her body back home to her mommy—in Sacramento.”
“Sacramento?” Burt strode up to him. “Are you telling me that woman has connections to the First Family?”
“I’m tellin’ you not to worry about it,” Troy said. “I’ll handle her. The Slayer’s the real problem. If we don’t find him tonight, he’ll heal up and come after both of us.”
Sheriff Burt scoffed and moved back to his desk, snatching up his phone. “First things first, then,” he said. “Let’s find Dylan.”
****
“Is there someone else with you?” Jasen asked when Kendall answered the phone. His question was guarded, or perhaps suspicious.
Kendall supposed she should have seen that coming. It had to have been obvious, after all, that she wasn’t physically taking a couple of the pictures she’d sent to him. “A local woman who’s helping us. She knew where the secret lair was and helped me get Adrian out of there after.” It seemed better not to mention this local woman was a werewolf. No need to cause unnecessary waves.
Jasen made a low sound, almost like a hum. “Do what you can to clean up the wound in his side. Has he been eating regularly?”
Kendall blinked, her brain scrambling just to focus on the conversation, let alone to keep up with the track of it. “Yes. We eat two, sometimes three, meals a day. He’s pretty insistent about it.”
Hailey moved up with the first-aid items she’d brought earlier, obviously having heard Jasen’s instruction through the phone. She lifted the box, the lid open, to show Kendall the selection of things within and tipped her head toward Adrian, as if to ask permission.
Kendall smiled and switched the phone to her other ear, hoping to multi-task and offer what help she could. Although if that ended up being simply the help of not throwing up over both of them, that’d be impressive.
“Does he sleep?” Jasen asked.
“Ah, most nights, at least somewhat,” Kendall said, attempting to think of a simple way to answer that. “He swears he doesn’t need as much regular sleep as normal people.”
“He doesn’t, when he’s healthy,” Jasen said. “It sounds like he should be fine, as long as what you showed me is the only wound worth mentioning. But he’ll need rest now. What time zone are you in?”
Kendall paused, her brain drawing a temporary blank.
Hailey glanced over at her, then pointed deliberately to a photograph mounted above the couch. A picture of beautiful, snowcapped mountain scenery.
“Mountain,” Kendall said, “Mountain Time.” She offered Hailey a small smile.
Hailey inclined her head, then stood and disappeared from sight again.
Jasen was quiet long enough for Kendall to be concerned, before he said, “The kid’ll probably sleep through the night, then. Don’t panic unless he’s still unconscious after daybreak. Are you somewhere secure enough to stay the night?”
It was Kendall’s turn to hesitate. She was fairly sure she could trust Hailey, and honestly she was more comfortable in this situation with someone to keep her company than she would have been alone, but she wasn’t so out of it that she didn’t recognize the continued potential for danger. Would Hailey fight with her if Wilson or Burt tracked them there? Or would Hailey abandon her and flee? She really didn’t know. “I think I’m as safe as I can expect to be,” she said, quietly. It seemed like the best truth.
“I’m a little busy with this motherfucking rebellion, so I can’t break away to babysit you,” Jasen said. “Am I calling you backup?”
Kendall’s mouth dropped open and she barely processed Hailey’s return with a pair of damp cloths. “Did you say rebellion?”
“Yes, as in, I’ve got my hands very fucking full,” Jasen said. “So. Backup?”
Finally processing that his temper was slipping, or at least his patience, Kendall gave her head a shake. “Um, no, I’ll manage. Thank you, Jasen. Sorry.”
“Call your mother if you can’t,” he said, and promptly hung up.
Kendall stared at her phone. “Holy crap.” A rebellion? Was the situation with Boris bigger than she’d thought?
Hailey glanced over at her from where she was working to clean Adrian’s side. “I apologize for being nosy,” she said, “but did I hear you say something about a rebellion? What, exactly, am I being dragged into?”
Kendall gripped tighter to the phone for a moment, then shoved her rampaging emotions down and the device back into a pocket. “He definitely used that word,” she said, “but I swear, it’s the first I’ve heard of it. And you’re really not ‘in,’ you’re just kind of … skirting. For which I’m sorry.” She grabbed the discarded pair of scissors and scooted closer, recognizing that they were going to have cut away his shirt and what they could of his destroyed jacket. Maybe she should’ve paid better attention to those medical dramas she used to watch.
The two worked in a weird sort of synchronicity, cutting away bloodied and shredded fabric and cleaning around the no longer bleeding wound, until Kendall sat back on her haunches after gingerly pressing the flimsy medical tape into Adrian’s skin. Hailey had found a large, gauzy bandage square, and Kendall had opted to use that to keep the worst of the wound covered. Slayers healed a lot faster than regular humans, and from what Kendall had inferred of Jasen’s words, she imagined that healing worked best when they ate regularly and took somewhat decent care of themselves. She’d kept company with Adrian long enough to know that he did, so she had to hope he’d wake up by dawn. It was all up to him now, though.
A lump swelled in her throat as she looked him over.
He was breathing steadily beneath the portion of shirt they’d been unable to properly pull off of him, but his skin was a bit too pale. Not super-sickly pale, just paler than usual.
Hailey laid a hand on Kendall’s shoulder. “Your friend said he won’t likely wake up for a while, right? It’s probably okay if you try to get some sleep. I’ve got a guest room—”
“No,” Kendall said, too quickly. “Thank you, but no. I’m staying here, with him.” She could have argued that he’d be worried and upset if he woke up and she wasn’t in sight, and he didn’t know where he was, but that wasn’t her reason. Her reason was entirely selfish. Still, she turned a grateful smile to the werewolf woman who’d stepped up for her that night. “Really, thank you.”
Hailey’s expression softened into a calm smile. “I still don’t know what to make of him,” she said, as if confessing a secret, “but I could never abandon an innocent person in distress like that.”
Kendall grinned.
Hailey lifted her gaze to look around her small house. “I’m probably going to have to move, now, though.”
Guilt flared in Kendall’s chest and she looked away. Then the craziest thought struck her. She blamed her exhausted, overly emotional brain, but she made no effort to contain it. “So, I know this is none of my business really, but you are … looking for a pack, right?”
Hailey was staring at her as if she’d grown a second head when Kendall looked up at her again. Slowly, Hailey said, “I am.”
“Okay, I know what I’m about to say will sound totally crazy,” Kendall said, opting for raw honesty, “but hear me out. I have some very weird connections, and one of them is that my new stepdad is best friends with an alpha wolf who’s apparently actively recruiting and is a pretty decent guy. Or, wolf, if you prefer. Anyway, I don’t know the alpha personally, but he did technically save Adrian’s and my mom’s lives not that long ago, for what that’s worth.”
Hailey’s eyes were wide again by the time Kendall was done. “I don’t understand,” she said. “I thought you were connected somehow to the First Family?”
“Right,” Kendall said, “I am.”
Hailey shook her head with obvious confusion. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would the First Family have a link to any pack?” She swallowed. “I don’t know if I’d fit in with a pack of wolves aligned with vampires.”
Kendall fought not to snort at the statement. “It’s really not that … simple.” She scrunched up her lips as she mulled her thoughts over. “I mean, they are sort of in an alliance. It’s more like a truce, really. It’s not like the wolves are the vampires’ personal hounds or anything, you know? They live entirely separate, and Trista wants to keep it that way. It’s just that things got sketchy recently and everyone got dragged into the same fight.”
“This is very confusing,” Hailey said.
That was fair. Kendall was sure she was doing a great job of messing it up. She drew a breath and tried again. “What’s your opinion of the Jefferies Pack?” She referred, of course, to the rather infamous, established pack of werewolves that dominated Montana, run by an alpha named Curtis Jefferies. Werewolves didn’t have one overarching ruler like vampires did, but as far as Kendall knew, the elder Jefferies alpha was considered one of the most respected and revered of the living alphas.
Her head tilting slightly at the question, Hailey said, “They’re impressive, of course. A little intimidating, maybe, but I’d love the chance to earn a place among them. If I could make it there, I might finally feel safe again.”
Kendall nodded. That was more or less what she’d expected to hear. “Did you know his son, or his oldest son, I’m not super clear on that, is also an alpha?”
Hailey nodded. “I’d heard.”
“That’s the pack I’m talking about,” Kendall said. “His name is Adam. He’s settled down in the mountains a few hours north of Sacramento, apparently with the idea of creating a safe-haven for deserving wolves who just want to live in peace. From what I hear, the pack’s doing pretty well.”
Hailey’s nostrils flared with an intake of breath. “But the vampires…?”
Kendall shrugged. “Mostly they leave each other alone. Trista’s more concerned with the cities, so she’s agreed to let Adam have the forest. Plus, my stepdad was recently appointed as one of the vampire’s liaisons to the wolves, so communication between the two groups should be improving.”
Hailey looked unconvinced. “And you think this would be a good fit for me?”
“I mean, ultimately it’s your choice,” Kendall said, “but you need a place to fit in, and they’re looking for good people to expand their numbers with.” She grinned. “As a bonus, you went out of your way to help me, and you didn’t have any idea who my family is specifically. I could easily convince them to let you pass through, you wouldn’t have any trouble.”
“You think you could get me safe passage into California?”
Kendall extended one index finger. “With a single call.”
“Who are you, exactly?” Hailey finally asked.
“The Vampire Queen is my grandmother.” When Hailey’s jaw dropped open, Kendall added, “Adopted, technically, because, you know…”
Hailey snapped her jaw shut and swallowed visibly. “Oh my gosh.”
Kendall glanced toward the sleeping man on the sofa beside her for a moment. “Adrian told me not to talk about that while we were in Colorado,” she said, “but you seem okay to me. And I just wanted to return the favor for tonight, and maybe make it up to you if I could, for kind of possibly ruining your home.” She met Hailey’s gaze again. “You can think about it, or decline, or what have you. Totally your call, you won’t hurt my feelings. I just thought, you’re looking for a pack and I happen to know of one that’s looking for wolves, and you seem like a good fit, so I should say something.” She shrugged.
“I—” Hailey drew a breath. “I think I’ll … think about it. Thank you.” She pushed to her feet. “Let me get you a couple of blankets. That chair reclines. You’ll be more comfortable there than on the floor, if you wanted to try and sleep.”
Kendall looked over as Hailey indicated, seeing the moderately stuffed armchair for the first time. She really hadn’t looked around the house much. “Okay. I’ll take you up on that.” It was only a few feet away. Adrian would see her with barely a turn of his head if he woke up before her. Assuming she slept at all. She was tired, but she was also still a little on-edge. To appease herself, and maybe also him, she dragged his armory bag over to rest beside the chair and hauled out the crossbow, to lay it on top in easy reach.
****
He felt like shit as consciousness returned to him. So much so that he processed that before the presence of a nearby werewolf. Adrian bit back the groan in his chest and pried his eyes open, blinking rapidly against the assault of early morning sunlight, his brain scrambling to piece together what had happened. He definitely did not recognize the roof overhead, or the photo on the wall above the equally unfamiliar sofa he seemed to be resting on. It wasn’t surprising, then, that he had no idea how he’d gotten wherever he was. He pulled in a slow, deep breath, taking stock of himself as he allowed his memory to settle on the most recent thing it did recall.
There was a fairly sharp ache in his torso, low on his left side. He’d felt worse, but it was still unpleasant. His head pounded from the vicinity of the wolf. He was starving. Then the memory came to him in a rush, overtaking his physical discomforts. He remembered the basement, the fight, becoming distracted when Troy fucking Wilson had put his hands on Kendall, and taking a punch that dropped him long enough for his own opponent to actually sink his teeth into Adrian’s side. The vampire had probably been thinking to Turn him in some disgusting twist of irony, but killing a Slayer was damn hard to do. Adrian was sure, at least, that he’d pushed the stake in deep enough to kill the bastard after. Kendall had gotten Wilson off her, but with his injury Adrian knew it would have been foolish to pursue the fight, so he’d used a flash grenade to cover their escape.
He didn’t actually remember clearing the basement stairs, let alone the property. He’d worry about that later.
Adrian shoved up to his elbows despite the pain that lingered from his still healing wound, needing to know where Kendall was and hoping like hell he already knew which werewolf was responsible for the headache.
“Adrian!” Kendall’s relief-filled exclamation was music to his ears. Even more-so was the sight of her unblemished face, hazel eyes brimming with tears, as she dropped to her knees beside him and flung her arms around his shoulders. “You scared the crap outta me!”
Something heavy, warm, and unfamiliar twisted in his chest, momentarily choking him, and Adrian shifted his weight a little to loop one arm around her. He wasn’t back to full strength yet, which he hated, but he more hated the realization that he’d worried her—or scared her—so badly that she’d cried. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had cried over him. “Sorry,” he offered, letting himself speak quietly in the hopes it covered any audible weakness in his voice. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
She drew a breath, sitting upright, and slid a hand down his arm.
His bare arm. From his shoulder to his wrist, his arm was entirely bare. Which was great in terms of getting to feel her dragging her long, slender fingers over his skin, but what the hell had happened to his clothes?
Kendall scooped his hand between both of hers. “No, I’m not okay. I slept like crap. I was freaking out. I think I jumped out of my skin at least three separate times last night. I nearly called home and begged for help just to not feel so useless.” She licked her lips and held his hand tighter. “But Hailey says I just have a little ugly bruising, so if that’s what you mean, I’m fine.”
He attempted to offer her a small smile. “So, I was only out for one night, then?”
“Only?” Kendall repeated, her brows lifting. “Only? Jasen said you should wake up by sunrise. Sunrise was, like, half an hour ago!”
He huffed out a breath. “You called Jasen.”
“You told me to.”
Adrian watched her for a minute, guilt for the worry she’d obviously felt easing his initial reaction. He slipped his hand from hers and cupped her jaw, tugging her closer. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said quietly, all but breathing the words against her skin.
Kendall made a sound like a whimper and pressed her lips to his.