Twilight Hunger Part 27

"This is... all my fault," she whispered.

"Why did you do this, Morgan? Why?"

She shook her head. "You were so weak. I thought you might die."

"And it didn't even occur to you that you could die far more easily than I?" He knelt beside her, gathering her up into his arms, lifting her as he stood again. Then he shook his head. "No. No, you trusted that I wouldn't let that happen, didn't you?"

"This is my doing, not yours," she told him, leaning her head against his chest.

"I'm not going to let you die, Morgan."

She closed her eyes, but he saw her tears anyway, dampening and darkening her lashes from within. He carried her into the pa.s.sage and along it, leaving the light far behind.

"The journals," she said suddenly. "You must bring them, Dante. And go to the house for the others."

"We can do that together, when you're well."

"They're in the safe, in the study. The year I found you-that's the combination. Nineteen ninety-seven."

"I'm not going to let you die, Morgan." He was weak, growing weaker by the second. But dammit, he could save her, save them both. He would.

"It's not your fault, Dante," she whispered.

He emerged from the cave and managed to hold her while climbing up the side of the cliff. Ordinarily he would have simply pushed off with his feet and jumped the distance. A small leap for one as powerful as he. But not tonight. Tonight he barely managed to clamber up the steep, stony path without dropping her, and when he reached the level ground, he was breathless, his muscles trembling with strain.

He started toward the house.

"Dante?" she whispered. "No! Don't take me back to them-I want to stay with you."

"You'll die without help, Morgan."

"Then I'll die in your arms. I'll breathe my last against your lips. Dante, don't make me go... "

He stopped walking and stared down at the woman who had risked her own life to preserve his. Who had trusted him completely and given selflessly. He had never believed anyone could love him the way this wraith-like creature must. His own family had turned against him. He'd lived his life trusting in no one. But he trusted her. And he realized, too late, d.a.m.n him, that he'd known he could trust her before she had surrendered the journals or her work. Before she'd bled herself to the brink trying to save his worthless life. He loved her.

Leaning closer, cradling her head in his palm and lifting her face to his, he kissed her. Slowly, tenderly, he kissed her.

"Stay alive for me, Morgan. One night, so I can feed and grow strong again. One day, so the sleep can regenerate my power. Then I'll come for you. I swear I will. No army of mortals will keep me from you again."

He kissed her again, but this time her lips went slack against his, and when he lifted his head, hers hung limply and her eyes had fallen closed. He heard voices, saw her family and friends walking around the back lawn with flashlights, calling Morgan's name.

Lifting his chin, he called out to them. "Here. She is here."

"There he is!" someone shouted. "He's got Morgan!"

The gang of mortals came running toward him. Gently he laid Morgan down in the cool gra.s.s, bent to kiss her forehead and then, straightening, turned to flee. He had to live, to get strong again, so he could save her.

In three strides, the bolt penetrated his thigh. Pain beyond endurance shrieked through him as he tried to keep going. Weight on the leg intensified it even more, and he felt the blood pumping out of him. Three more steps. He went down hard, then tried to crawl, and finally, on his belly, he dragged himself toward the cliffs. Toward the edge. If he could pull himself over, maybe there was still a chance...

"Finally. You son of a b.i.t.c.h, I've finally got you." A hand clasped his shoulder and rolled him harshly onto his back.

The scarred man stared down at Dante. And then he smiled.

"Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d... " Max knelt beside her sister. Morgan lay still on the ground, a white silk robe around her body, fresh puncture marks in her neck. No question now. "You see them, don't you? You see them, too, this time, don't you?"

Beside her, one arm around her shoulders, Lydia nodded. "I s-see them. I don't believe it, but I-I see them."

David said nothing; he was speechless, frightened to death.

Lou had his fingers on Morgan's wrist. He looked up, nodded once. "She's alive."

Max bent almost double, face contorting, sobs choking her, relief too powerful to contain. "Let's get her to the house."

Lou looked further along the lawn and frowned, getting to his feet. "Take her, David. I'll just be a sec."

Max followed his gaze to where Frank Stiles was leaning over the fallen form of the dark man who had done this to Morgan. Lou was striding over there, and Max got up, too. "Stay with her," she told Lydia, even as David gathered Morgan into his arms and started for the house. Then she ran to catch up to Lou.

Stiles said, "I've got you at last. You're not going to get away from me this time."

As Max looked beyond Stiles' vicious scowl to the man who lay on the ground, she caught her breath. He was exactly like the images Morgan had drawn-the ones that lined the walls of her study. "Dante, I take it?"

He nodded, but it was obvious he was in considerable pain. She looked him over, saw the blood gus.h.i.+ng from around the metal bolt that pierced his thigh, and acted instinctively, dropping to her knees, tearing the denim fabric. "It must have hit an artery or something. My G.o.d, the bleeding... "

"His kind always bleed like that," Stiles spat. "Let him bleed out. He'll be dead in a few minutes."

"If I am," the fallen, dark man muttered through clenched teeth, "Morgan will be, as well."

"Don't you dare threaten my sister," Max whispered.

"I don't think it was a threat, Maxie," Lou said.

He dropped to one knee, clasped the bolt, glanced at Dante. Dante nodded once, and Lou pulled the arrow-like rod out in one smooth motion. As he did, Dante tipped his head back and howled in pain. Then Lou yanked his belt free of its loops, wrapped it around the thigh, above the wound, pulled it tight and watched as the bleeding slowed. He searched his pockets and emerged with a jackknife, then poked a hole in the leather so he could fasten the belt in place. He fastened the belt so tightly that Dante's thigh looked practically like an hourgla.s.s.

"I don't understand why you're helping him," Max finally said. "Why are we helping him, after what he did to Morgan?"

"No, no, Lou is right," Stiles said softly. "He's of far more use to my people alive."

Dante's gaze snapped to Lou's. And it surprised the h.e.l.l out of Max to see what looked like the barest hint of fear in the vampire's eyes.

Lou drew her attention away from that, though, with his next words. "He brought Morgan to us. He called out to get our attention and got himself shot with that freaking crossbow of yours for his trouble. Where the h.e.l.l did you have that thing, anyway, Stiles? I searched you before I let you in the house."

"It was in my car. I grabbed it the moment we realized Morgan was missing."

"He brought her back," Lou said. "He didn't have to do that. If he was trying to kill her, why would he have bothered?"

Stiles swore emphatically and rolled his eyes. "Doesn't matter. He's my prisoner as of right now. Get him out to my car and I'll take it from there. You people won't be bothered by him again."

Lou lifted his brows. "You're not taking anyone anywhere, Stiles. Get your a.s.s to the house with the others or get the h.e.l.l out of here."

"This is my project, Malone. I'm a f.u.c.king Federal agent."

"You're a former Federal agent, pal. My badge, on the other hand, is current, and unless you want to end up being my prisoner, I suggest you let me handle this."

Max saw Lou glance at her, his eyes searching. She looked at the creature on the ground, then at Lou again. Then she shook her head in disgust. She got up, gripped Stiles by the arm and tugged him along beside her back toward the house. He didn't fight her much. That worried her.

"You give that animal half a chance, he'll finish your sister off. Just like he did to your friend."

"Why don't you just leave and let us deal with this?"

"Oh, no. I'm not going anywhere."

"If you're staying, you're playing this our way. Otherwise Lou won't have to arrest you, because I'll do worse. You understand?"

Sneering at her in contempt, he nodded.

"Thank you," the vampire said.

"Don't thank me. I can't let you just walk away from this, you know."

"You have to let me go."

Lou shook his head. "What did you mean by what you said before? If you die, she'll die, too."

The vampire looked at him, searched his face. "I'm supposed to think you'll believe me if I explain it?"

"I don't believe any of this. But I do want to hear it."

Dante paused for a long moment, as if thinking. "I can save her. I'm the only one who can."

"How?" Lou asked.

Dante studied him, sighed. "I can't tell you that. Only that I need to heal, to get my strength back, before I can do a thing to help Morgan."

"Uh-huh," Lou said. "And how do you do that?"

The vampire looked away. "I have to feed."

"So you want me to let you loose so you can go bite some innocent and leave them as bad off as Morgan, or maybe worse?"

He helped the suspect up, drew one of the man's arms around his shoulders and started walking him toward the house. The guy was in some pretty intense pain, Lou knew that much. "I can't do that."

"I don't kill."

"And if you did, you'd admit it to me?"

Dante winced every time he put weight on his leg. "No. I suppose not."

"It's my responsibility to keep you in custody," Lou said, reasoning it all out in his mind as he went along. "That's the best I can do, just treat this like any other case. You're my chief suspect. From all apearances, you attacked Morgan. I can't book you and bring you up for a bail hearing-but I can keep you where you can't do any more harm until I figure all this out."

Dante sighed, and Lou wasn't sure if it was in compliance or despair. "Just keep her alive," he said.

"You know how sick she is, don't you? Even if she survives whatever the h.e.l.l happened tonight, she's not gonna last much longer."

The vampire closed his eyes. "You just keep her alive. Promise me... "

Lou nodded. "I'll do my d.a.m.nedest."

The vampire nodded. Then he said, "You seem like a decent man, for a mortal. Which makes me even more sorry... "

Lou frowned. "Sorry for wha-" He didn't get to finish. Something-a fist, he thought, though it felt more like a cannon ball-smashed into his head, and he went down in a heap.

Morgan's head turned back and forth as her body trembled. She was so weak, so incredibly weak. Max sat by her side on the sofa, doing her best to keep her sister still, as Lydia paced. David Sumner sat in a small chair in the corner, tears welling in his eyes.

Morgan whimpered and muttered. Every few unintelligible sounds she made were punctuated by one intelligible word. Dante. It was breaking Max's heart. She licked her lips, glanced up at the doorway when Lou came in. He was alone.

"Lou?"

"Sorry," he said, rubbing one side of his head. "He got away from me."

A string of curses polluted the room, and Max glared at Frank Stiles, who had been sitting in the shadows, observing everything. He s.n.a.t.c.hed up his crossbow from the floor beside him and surged toward the door.

Lou stepped into his path. "It's not your place," he said.

"He'll kill again if you let him go. He has to, or he'll die himself. You saw how weak he was."

"I don't think he's gonna kill anyone," Lou said.

He looked past Stiles at Max and went on. "He could've killed Morgan. h.e.l.l, he could've killed me just now, if that was what he wanted."

"Lou, what if you're wrong?" Max whispered.

"What if I'm not?" Lou asked. "Max, he says he can save her. What if he's the one telling the truth here?"

"Oh for the love of-you honestly believe that? The word of an animal, for Christ's sake? Over me, one of your own kind?"

"Mr. Stiles, I don't think anyone in this room is one of your kind," Lydia muttered.

David Sumner looked at her, then back at Stiles. "Lydia, you can't be on the vampire's side in this. My G.o.d, look at Morgan."

"I am looking at her, David. And I'm listening to her, too. Are you? She loves him. She's dying, and all she can think of is him. Doesn't that say something to you?"

"It says she's in some kind of trance, just like Stiles told us."

"Or Stiles is lying and Morgan knows the truth," Lydia countered.

David jumped to his feet. "He put holes in your daughter's f.u.c.king throat, Lydia!"

She snapped her head up, eyes wide. Max thought her own heart stopped beating as she stared from David Sumner to Lydia and back again. "Wha-what did you just say?" Then, to Lou, "What did he just say?"