“You feeling all right, Cole?” Paige asked.
Normally, the sight of her eyes reflected back at him from the rearview mirror would have been enough to give him some comfort. This time, not so much. Rather than get into that, he replied, “No.”
“Tough. Call Prophet and see what he knows about those Nymar in Denver. You were right about them being our next stop. If they’ve been making trouble this long, it makes sense they’d be hooked into what’s going on now.”
“Why can’t you call him?”
“Because I’m busy figuring out a way to keep you alive. What the hell’s your problem?”
“You tried to kill me!”
“I’d expect you to do the same for me.”
“I’m thinking about it.” Rico tried to pull him back by the shoulder, but Cole shoved the big man away. “After all we’ve been through, I’ve got to lump you in with all the other things out there trying to rip me apart?”
“If it’s between that or letting you turn into a Nymar? You bet your ass.” Shooting a quick glance over to Daniels, she added, “No offense.”
Daniels was a smart guy, which meant he waved off the comment without a word.
Apparently, Rico had a similar idea. “You two go on ahead,” he said. “I’ll call Prophet.”
“I won’t let you turn, Cole,” Paige told him. “Why would you ever think I’d let something like that happen to you?”
“What about what we’re doing right now?” Cole asked. “If I hadn’t stopped you, we never would have gotten this far. You would’ve just killed me, wrapped me up in some plastic bags, and then what? Salvaged me for parts? Dumped me in a hole like you do with the leftovers you can’t use from all those Half Breed carcasses?”
“You’re upset, Cole. I get it. Just calm down and try not to make things worse.”
“The spore is exerting a lot of energy right now,” Daniels explained. “It’s feeding where it can, and if you get all worked up or excited, it’ll make your heart beat faster and add adrenaline to the mix. Feeding all of that to—”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it,” Cole grunted as he dropped back into his seat.
Accustomed to being cut off in mid-sentence, Daniels shrugged and looked out the window to let the Skinners settle things among themselves.
Apart from Rico’s conversation with Prophet, it wound up being a quiet ride across town.
When they arrived at Pinups, Daniels, Paige, and Rico carried Cole, along with various supplies bundled beneath coats and tucked under arms to keep them out of sight. The security guys at the door wouldn’t stop Skinners if they were carrying tactical nukes under their jackets, but there were still customers to worry about, so they moved as discreetly as possible to a large supply room.
The space was smaller than a bedroom but larger than a closet, and partially filled with boxes of paper towels, plastic cups, and stacks of chairs. Rico grabbed one of the chairs, set it down in the middle of the floor, and dropped Cole onto it. “You all right?” he asked.
Cole winced and grabbed his chest with both hands. “I think you just shook something loose.”
“Does it pinch inside or do you just wanna puke?”
“Feels like I got hit in the lungs with a baseball bat. And now that you mention it, I may actually have to puke.”
“As long as it’s not pinching yet, you’re good.”
Next to come through the door were Daniels, Paige, and two dancers dressed in their work clothes. One wore a miniskirt that could have been made from a few strips of black tape wrapped around her hips, the other clad in the same shade of purple she’d worn almost every other time Cole had seen her. It brought out the glimmer in her eyes and the luscious texture of her lips. It was Tristan, and unlike those other times, she did not seem pleased to see him.
“What’s this I hear about you wanting our blood?” the Dryad asked. “Isn’t it enough that we send you and all the other Skinners back and forth across the country with no questions asked? Do you have any idea how long it takes us to collect the amount of energy we’ve been using for that?”
“Cole’s in trouble,” Paige said. “The rest can wait.”
Tristan looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Are those Nymar tendrils?”
“Yep. Hence the whole trouble and rushing over here thing.”
“What can I do for him?”
“Remember what you said about Dryad blood being the sweetest thing any Nymar’s ever tasted?” Paige asked.
“Yes.”
“Was that true?”
Tristan drifted close enough to Cole for him to smell the intoxicating blend of aromas in her hair. He tended to close his eyes when pulling in a breath like that, almost as if sniffing a pan of hot brownies. The thought of sinking his teeth into Tristan had always been at the front of his mind, but in a sociable context. This time he felt an urge that snapped his eyes open and nearly brought him to his feet with his teeth bared.
“Whoa there, cowboy!” Rico said as he shoved him back down again. “You’re gonna get us thrown out of here.”
The Dryad’s clothes were loose fitting, secured with a dark ribbon wrapped around her waist like the final touch of the greatest Christmas present ever conceived. Even as she hopped away from Cole’s seat, the filmy material somehow managed to cover her breasts and hips. “He’s not fully changed,” she said. “No fangs.”
Paige stepped between Tristan and Cole while saying, “I know. The process is slow, but we can’t stop it. We want to get that spore out of him.”
“Is that even possible?”
Since Cole was still restless, Paige drew her machete and held it flat against his chest, more as a restraint than a cutting tool. “That’s what we came to find out. Daniels thinks he can extract the spore if he can get it away from Cole’s heart. And the best chance of getting it away from his heart is to make it come out on its own. We’re hoping we might be able to get it to poke its ugly little face into the open for the chance to get something every growin’ boy wants.”
“You,” Daniels said as he unrolled one of the kits he kept wrapped in canvas and leather so it was always ready to travel. “She means you. Can we please hurry?”
“Yes,” Tristan said while wrapping her flimsy outfit around her a little tighter. “Have you ever tried anything like this before?”
Daniels removed a scalpel from his kit and scraped his thumb against the blade to test its edge. Rubbing away the blood that swelled up from the little cut he’d made, he replied, “There’s normally not enough time to try anything like this. Under regular circumstances, the spore would have either been too small to notice any external stimulus or too entrenched to detach without killing the host. This is a special case.”
“It’s a case that shouldn’t have happened,” Rico snarled. “Do you feel that?”
Paige shifted her attention to the door leading out to the main room. “Yeah. Either that spore is growing real quickly or there are more Nymar close by. The old-fashioned kind.”
Letting out a quick, impatient breath, Tristan looked to the other Dryad that had accompanied her into the storage room and said, “Get the rest of our sisters back here and send one of the regular girls to see if there are any Nymar in the club.”
“What about him?” the other Dryad asked.
“I’ll do what I can for Cole. If my blood’s not enough to get the job done, yours won’t make any difference.” To Paige, she added, “I’m willing to do my part, but you people better not get used to storming in here and demanding us to sacrifice ourselves this way.”
“Fair enough,” Paige said. “You ready?”
“What do you need me to do?”
Daniels approached her with a hypodermic needle. “I’ll start by collecting a sample and we’ll go from there. If I need more, I’ll let you know.”
Extending an arm and nodding resolutely, Tristan said, “Do it before I change my mind.”
He took the blood quickly and handed it to Paige.
Cole removed his shirt, turned around so his chest was against the back of the chair, and stretched his arms
