Manny ducked out and offered his hand. “Me, too.”
As they shook, the vet glanced into the stall—and his eyes popped when he saw Payne. “Ah . . . hello.”
When Payne offered the man a small smile, the good doctor blinked like the sun had broken through a cloud bank and shone down upon him.
Okaaaaaaaaaay, Manny was so through with bastards staring at her like that.
Putting himself in the way, he said, “Is there any kind of suspension we could get her into? To relieve some pressure?”
“We’ve had her strapped for a couple of hours each day.” As the vet replied, he inched to the side until Manny had to follow with his torso to keep blocking the view. “I don’t want to run the risk of gastrointestinal or breathing problems.”
Bored with the tilting thing, and wanting to spare Payne where the conversation was heading, Manny took the guy’s arm and moved them off to the side. “What’s our next step?”
The vet rubbed his eyes as if to give his mind a second to unscramble. “To be honest, Dr. Manello, I don’t have a good feeling about where we are. That other hoof is foundering, and although I’ve been doing everything I can to treat it, it’s not responding.”
“There has to be something else.”
“I’m so damned sorry.”
“How long until we’re sure—”
“I’m sure now.” The man’s stare was positively grim. “That’s why I came in tonight—I was hoping for a miracle.”
Well, didn’t that make two of them.
“Why don’t I give you some time with her,” the vet said. “Take all you need.”
Which was doctor talk for
The vet put his hand on Manny’s shoulder briefly, and then he turned and walked away. As he went, he looked in every single stall, checking his patients, patting a muzzle now and then.
Good guy. Thorough guy.
The kind who would exhaust every single avenue before laying down a stop-loss scenario.
Manny took a deep breath and tried to tell himself that Glory was not a pet. People didn’t have racehorses as pets. And she deserved better than suffering in a little stall while he worked up the courage to do right by her.
Putting his hand to his chest, he rubbed his cross through his scrubs and had a sudden urge to go to church —
At first, all he noticed was the shadows getting stronger on the wall across the way. And then he thought maybe someone had turned the overhead lights up.
Finally, he realized that the illumination was coming out of Glory’s stall.
What . . . the . . .
Skidding around, he recoiled . . . and then had to catch his balance.
Payne was on her knees in the fluffy sawdust, her hands on his horse’s forelegs, her eyes closed, her brows tight.
And her body glowing with a fierce and beautiful light.
Above her, Glory was stock-still, but her coat was twitching and her eyes were rolling back in her head. Little chuffing whinnies rolled up her long neck and came out her flaring nostrils . . . as if she were overcome by a feeling of relief, an easing of pain.
Those injured front legs of hers were softly aglow.
Manny didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t blink. He just held his cross even harder . . . and prayed that no one would interrupt this.
He wasn’t sure how long the three of them stayed as they were, but eventually, it became obvious Payne was straining from the effort: Her body began to vibrate and she started to breathe unevenly.
Manny broke into the stall and pulled her free from Glory, holding her lax body against his, and moving her out of the way in case the horse spooked or did something unpredictable.
“Payne?” Oh, God—
Her eyes fluttered. “Did I . . . aid her?”
Manny stroked her hair back as he looked at his filly. Glory was standing in place, lifting one front hoof and then the other and then going back to the first as if she were trying to figure out what had caused the abrupt comfort. Then she shook herself . . . and went over to nip at the hay that she hadn’t touched.
As that wonderful sound of a muzzle tip working at dry grass filled the silence, he looked back down at Payne. “You did,” he said hoarsely. “I think you did.”
Her eyes seemed to struggle to focus. “I wished not for you to lose her.”
Overcome by a gratitude he didn’t have enough words for, Manny curled her up closer to his heart and held her for a moment. He wanted to stay like that for so much longer, but she wasn’t looking well, and Christ knew who else may have noticed the light show. He had to get them out of here.
“Let’s go to my place,” he said. “So you can have a lie-down.”
When she nodded, he swung her into his arms, and damn if she didn’t feel perfect. As he shut the stall behind them, he glanced over at Glory. The horse was woofing back the hay like the stuff was going out of style.
Holy shit . . . had it really worked?
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said to her, before he strode away, buoyed by an incandescent hope.
Down at the security guard’s station, he smiled as he shrugged at the guy. “Someone’s been pulling double shifts at the hospital. She’s wiped.”
The man rose from his seat as if Payne’s mere presence, even if she were out cold, was enough to get his attention. “Better get her home. You have to take care of a woman like that.”
Too right. “That’s just where I’m headed.”
Moving quickly, he went out to reception and then waited for the buzz to sound so that he could push the final doors open. With any luck, the head vet hadn’t seen a thing—
“Thank you, Jesus,” Manny muttered, as he got his cue and shoved with his hip.
He wasted no time going over to the car, although getting out his keys while keeping Payne off the ground was a scramble. So was opening her door. But then he put her in the passenger seat, all the while wondering if she was ill. Shit, he had no way of getting into contact with anyone from her world.
Going around and sitting behind the wheel, he thought, Fuck it, he was just going to drive her back to the vampires—
“May I ask something of you?” she said in a slurred way.
“Anything—what do you—”
“May I take your vein for a moment? I find myself . . . curiously depleted.”
Okay, right. Talk about your Johnny-on-the-spots: He locked them in and all but tore off his arm and threw it at her.
Her soft lips found the inside of his wrist, but her bite was not swift, as if she were having trouble summoning the energy. Still, she got the job done and he jumped, the sharp pain nailing him in the heart and making him a little light-headed. Or . . . maybe that was a function of the sudden, overwhelming arousal that shot not just through his balls and into his cock, but raced around his entire body.
On a groan, his hips rolled in the Porsche’s seat and he let his head fall back. God, this felt good . . . the sucking rhythm she fell into might as well have been on his erection—and even though it should have hurt, the pull and swallow registered only as pleasure, a stinging, sweet pleasure that he was damned certain he would die for.
He fell into a blissful state; it felt like centuries that they were linked with her fangs in his flesh. Time had no meaning, and neither did the reality that they were in a parking lot in a car with clear windows.
Fuck the world.
It was only him and her together.
And that was before her diamond eyes opened and looked up at him, locking not on his face but his neck.
Vampire . . . he thought. Beautiful vampire.
