He guzzled it down, even though his fangs were in the way, and some of the blood trickled down his chin and neck.
She grabbed another bottle and removed the cap. He was so hungry, he didn’t seem to care that the blood was ice-cold. When he tossed the empty bottle aside, she handed him the next one.
She eased around him to check his wounds. The paste was dry and flaking away.
She couldn’t find the wounds.
He turned toward her. “I’ll need another bottle.” His fangs had retracted, so he finished off the second bottle without drizzling blood down his chin.
She handed him another one. “Are you really okay?”
“Yes. Just hungry.” He drank some more.
She went to the bathroom, washed up, then brought a damp towel to clean off his back.
“You don’t need to do that,” he grumbled.
She ignored him and climbed onto the bed behind him to wipe off the paste. The wounds were gone. As if they had never happened.
She skimmed her hand over the smooth skin. “You’re completely healed. How?”
He shrugged. “It happens during our death-sleep.”
She recalled how Robby and Angus had said he would be fine if he only made it to his death-sleep. “How can such a miraculous change occur when you’re dead?”
“I don’t know.” He drank more blood. “It’s a vampire thing.”
“But to have such healing abilities . . .”
“Abby, don’t question it. Just be glad we’re both alive.”
“I’m so grateful for what you did.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him from behind. “It was very brave and noble of you.”
He patted her hands. “Any time, sweetheart.”
She sat back and eyed his smooth back. It was truly miraculous. “Do vampires always heal during their death-sleep?”
“Pretty much.” He upended the bottle and finished it.
She scrambled off the bed and stood in front of him. “I need to study you.”
With a wince, he set the empty bottle on the bedside table. “Abby, I am what I am. And you love me, right? So let’s leave it alone.”
“But you have miraculous healing powers. I need to know how it works. I need a sample of your blood.”
He closed his eyes briefly with a pained look. “Don’t ask that. Please.”
“Why not?”
“You know I have a bunch of Vamps depending on me to keep them safe. If it got out that we have some kind of special blood, none of us would be safe. We would be hunted down by blood collectors and drained dry.”
An odd sense of déjà vu flitted through her mind. “I—I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Abby, please. I’m alive. You’re alive. We’re free to go home and be together. It’s perfect now. Don’t mess it up.”
“It’s not perfect! My mother could be dying! And I didn’t get any of the Demon Herb or the other plant. I got only the first one, and there’s no telling if it’ll be of any use to me. But here—” She motioned to him. “We have living proof that you possess amazing healing capabilities. There’s no way around it. I need to examine your blood.”
“I can’t!” He stood up. “I told you that before.”
“When?”
His face paled. “Just now.”
The sense of déjà vu came back in full force. She rubbed her brow. What was it she was trying to remember?
“I’m . . . really dirty. I’m going to shower.” He strode into the bathroom.
She stood there, her mind racing with jumbled thoughts.
The sense of déjà vu jabbed at her, and she paced about the bedroom, trying to remember. She’d met him at the White House. Then there had been the date at the nightclub and the trip to DVN. No, none of that triggered any forgotten memories.
The next night she’d gone to Romatech. She’d witnessed that scene where Sean Whelan’s wife had discovered he’d been messing with her head for years.
She halted. No, it couldn’t be possible. Gregori would never do such a thing.
Bits and pieces came back to her. She’d almost fainted. She’d been surprised at dinner that forty-five minutes had gone by. The stress ball had appeared in her pocket without her remembering how it got there. Laszlo had come up to her, acting like he already knew her.
A shudder skittered through her body.
She’d had this conversation with Gregori before.
She walked into the bathroom. He was in the shower stall, his back to her, his back that was smooth without any sign of the wounds he’d suffered.
With a trembling hand, she opened the door.
He turned and smiled. “Want to join me?”
Tears stung her eyes. She was afraid to ask, afraid of the answer. “Did you mess with my mind? Did you erase my memory?”
His smile vanished. “Abby, don’t—”
“Did you screw with my mind?”
He grimaced. “We . . . can talk about it.”
“No!” She backed away. Her heart plummeted, and a wave of nausea churned her stomach. “You did it, didn’t you?”
“Abby, we can talk about it.” He turned off the water and stepped out. “I had no choice at the time. And it was only a few minutes.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth and ran back into the bedroom.
“Abby.” He followed her, dripping wet.
“How could you?” She opened her backpack. Her hands shook as she fumbled inside.
“I told you. I have people I have to protect.”
“And what about my mother? I’m trying to protect her!” She found her passport, her emergency cash, and her credit card.
“Oh God.” Tears tumbled down her face. She had to leave him. She couldn’t stay with someone who would screw with her mind.
She swung the backpack onto her shoulder. “We just went through hell, and we didn’t have to! If you had given me a sample of your blood, I might not have needed those damned plants, and we wouldn’t have suffered, and I wouldn’t have met that demon, and he wouldn’t have threatened to make my mother worse!”
She stormed out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the foyer. When she tried to open the front door, an alarm went off. She frantically pushed buttons, trying to get the door to unlock.
“What is wrong?” Kyo asked as he rushed toward her.
She sniffed and wiped the tears from her face. “I’m going home. Can you please call me a cab?”
“Cab?” He looked confused. “Why you crying?”
“Abby!” Gregori ran downstairs, wearing a pair of jeans. “Don’t leave like this. We can talk it over.”
“There’s nothing to say!” she yelled at him. “You don’t trust me enough to give me a sample of your blood. And I can’t trust you anymore!”
“The devil take it.” Angus strode into the foyer, a bottle of blood in his hand. “What is everyone fashed about?”
“I need a cab.” Abigail sniffed. “I’m going to the airport.”
“No!” Gregori walked toward her. “We’ll work this out.”
She yanked on the door handle. “I want to go!”
“Miss Tucker,” Angus said. “There’s no record of you entering this country. If you wait, I can teleport you
