Rajmund (Vampires in America #3)

Rajmund (Vampires in America #3) Page 45

"Cervantes?” Raj called.

Cervantes was a big man, not huge like Raj or even Danny, but big nonetheless. He appeared out of the stinking darkness like a golem from a fairy tale, eyes glowing that pale yellow, his head a square block over broad shoulders, and carrying the limp form of a young woman in his arms.

Sarah cried out and would have gone to them, but Raj stopped her again. “Let go,” she demanded, pushing at him.

"Take her to the truck,” Raj ordered. “Danny, open the back and get that blanket from inside."

"She's alive?” Sarah asked, stunned. She hadn't really believed Regina could be saved. Not after everyone else had died.

"Barely,” Raj said in a tight voice. He held onto her, almost dragging her around to the back of the SUV, waiting while Danny spread out a blanket and Cervantes laid the small form across the back of the cargo space.

Raj met Danny's eyes and then transferred his gaze to Sarah in a clear signal to the other vampire. Before Sarah could object the other vampire had taken hold of her, while Raj stepped up to the truck and the injured young woman's side.

"What's going on?” Sarah asked in confusion. She couldn't see what Raj was doing, with Cervantes standing next to him and Danny holding her in place. Then it suddenly occurred to her that they didn't want her to see what he was doing.

"Oh, sweetheart,” she heard Raj murmur softly. “She's been drained nearly dry and not gently,” he said more loudly. He whipped off his jacket and shoved his sweater sleeve up to his elbow. Sarah saw him raise his arm to his mouth and bend over the dying young woman.

"Wait. What're you doing?” she demanded.

Raj's sharp glance was a slash of brilliant, icy blue over his shoulder before he turned back to Regina. “He's saving her fucking life,” Danny hissed next to her ear. “Now, shut up."

Sarah gasped in surprise that the genial Danny would talk to her that way, followed quickly by intense embarrassment that she probably deserved it. Once again, she'd assumed the worst of Raj, and this time it could have cost Regina her life. “I'm sorry,” she muttered.

Raj ignored her, but Danny's grip eased slightly. Sarah shivered in the cold air, trying to imagine how much worse it must have been for Regina, lying naked and dying in a pile of garbage. Thrown away because she was of no more use to them.

"Put her in the car, Danny.” Raj's voice drifted over to them, and it took Sarah a minute to realize he meant her, not Regina. She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it with a snap, letting Danny lead her around to the passenger compartment where he lifted her onto the seat and closed the door. Walking swiftly to the other side, he settled in the driver's seat and started the engine, turning the heater on. Sarah drew her knees up to her chest, hugging the warmth to herself, and waited.

She heard rather than saw Raj stand up. “Careful,” he said.

Sarah twisted around and saw Cervantes wrapping Regina in the blanket before he picked her up, cradled against his chest, then came around to slide onto the back seat while still holding her in his arms.

"Let's go,” Raj said in a tight, angry voice, as Sarah scooted over, making room for him in the front. He spat out an address and Danny took off.

She waited until they were back on the main highway before daring to ask quietly, “Are we taking her to a hospital?"

Raj glanced at her and away. “Home. We're taking her home."

Sarah blinked, swallowing her first instinct which was to demand to know why. Instead, she sat and thought for a moment, and then she understood. Raj had probably already done more for Regina by giving her his blood than a hospital full of doctors and medicine could do, and if they took her to a hospital, there would be questions. Questions neither she nor Raj wanted to answer.

"Does someone live with her?” she asked in a small voice.

"Her mother."

Sarah nodded, remaining silent until they pulled up in front of a two-story duplex very much like the one she shared with Mrs. M. The only difference was the neighborhood.

"Can I . . .” Her soft question faded away as Raj turned to study her. His face was blank, but his eyes still had that icy sheen to them. “Um,” she swallowed nervously. “I don't mean . . . that is, your eyes."

Raj's expression changed in an instant, becoming more animated, more human. A quick blink and his eyes returned to their pale but perfectly normal color. “Cervantes,” he said, opening the truck door. “You'll carry the girl. Danny, wait here. Come on, Sarah."

It was more of a command than a request, but since it was what she wanted anyway, Sarah didn't argue. As they walked up the narrow, concrete walkway to the dark house, Raj leaned close enough to say, “It's your turn, sweetheart. Use those all-American girl-next-door looks of yours and convince Mom we're the good guys. I don't want the cops coming down on our heads over this."

Sarah's heart began to pound. She glanced down at what she was wearing—jeans, Nikes and a t-shirt under a light-colored fleece jacket. She looked more like one of her students than a professor, but maybe she could make that work for her. She pulled the scrunchy out of her hair, finger combing it down and over her shoulders, knowing it softened the angles of her face and made her look younger. Raj stepped up to the door and stood to one side, looking at her for a go-ahead before ringing the doorbell.

It took a few minutes, and he had to ring the bell more than once. It was, after all, nearly midnight. But eventually Sarah heard the slap of mule slippers just like her landlady wore and then the porch light came on. The woman who answered the door could have been Mrs. M., give or take fifteen years, and just like that, Sarah knew how to convince her.

"Mrs. Aiello?"

The woman blinked, taking in the unlikely trio standing on her porch.

"Yes?"

"Mrs. Aiello, my name is—” Sarah stumbled over the unfamiliar syllables. “Susan Siemanski. I've been working with the police.” She saw the woman's eyes widen, saw her gaze fix on the bundle held so carefully in Cervantes's arms.

"Is that . . .” Mrs. Aiello's trembling fingers covered her lips, afraid to say it out loud.

"If we could come in, ma'am?” Raj said gently. “It's cold."

"Oh my God, oh my God.” The woman's voice rose as she fumbled with the flimsy lock on the screen door. Sarah felt Raj tense next to her and knew he was worried about the noise attracting attention. She pulled the door open and pushed into the house, putting her arms around the distraught mother, hustling her back inside. “Quietly, Mrs. Aiello. Please. We don't want the press—"

"No, no. Of course not. I'm sorry. Do you want . . .” She seemed uncertain where to go, her face pale, hands shaking.

"It's all right, Mrs. Aiello. Regina's fine. Or she will be now that she's home with you.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cervantes laying the girl gently on a big overstuffed sofa. Mrs. Aiello snapped out of her shock, hurrying over to kneel before her daughter.

"My baby, oh, thank you, Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” She bent her head over Regina, shoulders shaking with sobs.

Raj gave Sarah a long look. She flushed and stood aside, clearing the way for him to kneel next to the sofa. Cervantes moved away almost reluctantly, as if unwilling to relinquish his claim on the injured Regina, but a glance from Raj had him crossing back to the front door, where he stood waiting.

"Mrs. Aiello.” Her head came up and she turned to meet Raj's gaze. She smiled when he took her hand, and Sarah was startled to see Raj smile back. Not the half sneer she'd come to expect from him lately, but a genuine smile, the smile you'd give a child. He leaned closer and stroked her face with one of his big hands. It was a loving touch, gentle and understanding, and Sarah was ashamed as the memory of the awful things she said to him came back to haunt her.

"She's a happy person, my Regina,” Mrs. Aiello whispered suddenly. “Always laughing and smiling, even when we argue. She can never hold a mean for long,"

Raj nodded silently, then placed the mother's hand in her daughter's and stood up smoothly, meeting Sarah's gaze across the room. It was everything she could do not to step back in fear. His eyes were gleaming, seeming to bleed power as he stood there staring at her. She froze, trapped in his spell. Then he moved, and suddenly, he was just Raj again, handsome, arrogant, and impatient to get the hell out of here. He strode across the room in two long strides. “Let's go,” he said.

"Good bye, Mrs. Aiello,” Sarah called softly, but Regina's mom had already forgotten all about them.

Sarah stepped out onto the porch with a sigh of relief, breathing in the fresh air, clearing her head of not just the warmth of the overheated house, but the cobwebs that seemed to cling to her thoughts. Cervantes was already climbing into the truck and Raj was not far behind. She hurried to catch up with him.

"What did you do?” she asked breathlessly. When he ignored her, she reached out and grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop or drag her along. Raj spun around, his glare colder than the night. A little thrill of terror raced through her, bumping her heart into a faster beat and catching her breath in her lungs.

"What do you think I did, Sarah?” He gave her hand on his arm a pointed look and she dropped it with a murmured apology.

He strode away once again and she raced to catch him again. “You might as well slow down, damn it,” she complained. “You're not going to leave me here and you know it."

He ignored her, standing at the open truck door and waiting impatiently as she clambered up and slid to the middle of the seat. Apparently Raj was angry. What a novelty. If they'd been alone, she might have demanded to know what the problem was this time, but Danny and Cervantes were listening to every word, so she bit her tongue and said nothing.

Raj yanked the door closed and snapped at Danny to “Get the fuck out of here.” Maybe Danny knew what the problem was, because he spun the truck away from the curb and took off with a squeal of tires.