Max scratched his head. “Um, yeah. The direct approach.”
Realization snapped her head up. “I’m your way in. I mean—”
“Yep.” Jase stepped into the sun, his gaze thoughtful on the stone building reflecting the light. “We’re taking you back in, Sarah.”
“But we won’t leave you.” Max stalked forward, intimidating and reassuring, maneuvering up the rough asphalt drive. Crickets chirped in the distance, and closer, a robin sang.
Why the hell hadn’t she figured that out? How else would they get inside? Guns blazing and blades flinging into the peaceful watercolors lining every hallway? She fought a hysterical laugh. It was crazy. She was allowing them to take her back. A glance down at the thick hand banded around her arm negated that fact. No choice had been given. “Why is this so important?” she whispered, tripping in her tennis shoes.
They came to a stop before the oak double doors. Max studied the keypad embedded in the stone. “The information out there could get a good friend of mine killed. He’s also my boss.”
She frowned. “Why? I mean ... oh God. He’s not a vampire, is he?”
Jase started. Conn went still. She shoved away from Max. “Is your boss a Kurjan or not?”
“No. He’s definitely not a Kurjan.” Max exhaled. “You have my word.”
Jase’s cheerful smile disappeared. “His boss is my brother, and if our, ah, allies discover he let such dangerous information loose, they’ll take him out. We’re trying to prevent war.” Determination and strength replaced the good-natured grin he’d worn since she met him.
“Your allies don’t sound like allies.” She elbowed Max, trying to get some air. The sheer size of the guys brought on claustrophobia. “Which government are you with, anyway?” Enough with the secrets.
Max shrugged. “We’re the good guys.”
“Everyone thinks they’re the good guys. Especially the bad guys,” Sarah muttered.
Amusement filtered across Max’s face. “You’re not wrong.”
No kidding. Sarah straightened her sweater, wiping her feet on a worn rug in front of the door. “Let’s get this over with.” Three deep breaths later, her shields slammed carefully into place. No crazy vibrations or images were taking her down. Besides, she needed to concentrate. If the soldiers left her alone inside, she could escape the same way as last time. But something whispered in her consciousness that these three wouldn’t be as easy to outrun as the Brancrest orderlies.
Max pressed the button on the keypad, announcing they had a meeting with Dr. Robard.
A buzzer sounded and the door slid inward, revealing the strategically designed reception room. A nurse dressed in light blue scrubs hustled around the leather sofa, charts in her hands. “You said Dr. Robard is expecting you?” She took a good look at the three men and stopped cold, a red flush shooting across her cheekbones. “Oh my.”
“He’s not expecting us”—Max gently hauled Sarah before him—“but we were sent to retrieve a missing patient of his.”
Adrenaline ripped through Sarah’s veins. Her breath caught in her lungs like the oxygen had turned to lead. The scent of bleach and desperation hung heavy in the building, and she fought a whimper. Run. She needed to run.
A heavy hand descended on her shoulder, smoothing down her spine gently and with reassurance.
Her legs trembled with the urge to step back into Max’s strength. Instead, she lifted her chin. “Hello there, Nurse Whitcome. Still a complete bitch?” The blond wench had been gleeful when administering shots.
Jase snorted.
“Oh. Miss Pringle.” Whitcome smiled wide, revealing pearly teeth all the way to the gum line. “How nice to see you again. We’ve made improvements in night checks and medication regimens. You won’t escape again.”
“You are a bitch,” Max said mildly to the nurse. “Now get Robard before you really piss me off.”
As the color slithered away from Whitcome’s face, Jase flashed Max a surprised look and bit his lip against another grin.
No way was Sarah turning to view what had scared the sadistic nurse. Max could probably be quite threatening when he wanted. Odd that she wasn’t afraid of him. The memory of him softly wiping off her scrape the previous day flashed through her mind.
Whitcome pivoted on her sensible nurse shoes. “I’ll take you to Dr. Robard’s office.” Her quick stomps shook her ample butt as she led the way.
Sarah straightened her shoulders to follow. “He’s not going to give you the records,” she whispered.
“Yes, he will,” Max whispered back.
Someone screamed, high and loud, in the recesses of the building. Insanity echoed in the shriek. Sarah halted, resuming only when Max nudged her shoulder. Pretty watercolors adorned the hallway, but the industrial tiles lining the floor with their squiggly black lines kept drawing her attention. The tiles sparkled under the fluorescent lights, yet somehow seemed stained with despair. She shook off the depressing thought.
“This place would make anybody crazy,” Max muttered.
The nurse stopped next to a narrow oak door, knocked, and then pushed it open. “Dr. Robard, Miss Pringle has returned.” With a sniff, she hustled away.
Sarah led the way inside. “Hi, Doctor.”
The door closed, the three towering soldiers forming an impenetrable wall behind her.
Robard’s salt and pepper hair matched his trimmed beard. He sat behind files and papers piled high on a smudged glass and chrome desk. The color slid from his face. He half stood, his sharp gray eyes dilating. “Miss Pringle. It’s good to see you safe.”
“Thanks. It’s just great to be back.”
“I, ah, don’t understand.” Robard retook his seat, allowing his gaze to aim behind her.
“Her family hired us to retrieve Miss Pringle and her records before transferring her to a different facility.” Conn yanked paperwork out of his pocket, unfolding several sheets to hand to the doctor. “You’ll see everything is in order. Her family asked us to bring her here first, since you need to formally discharge her.”
What a load of crap. Sarah struggled to keep her face placid.
“I don’t think so.” Robard rubbed his chin. “I can certainly copy and send her records to you, but I’m not just handing them over.” His gaze darted around the room.
The guy wasn’t stupid. He’d believed Andrew’s lies, but that was no surprise. Her brother was an excellent liar. While the doctor had never been mean, he’d never even considered she had been telling the truth.
“I have the right to my records, Doctor.” Probably. There had to be some federal law that gave her that right.
“Actually”—he cleared his throat, sweat pooling on his brow—“considering there’s a hearing tomorrow regarding your competency, you don’t have the right.”
Wow. The doctor had always seemed so calm and cool—soldiers must scare him. Even his hands trembled as he closed a file, patting the cover.
Max stepped forward. “What do you mean, competency hearing?” Anger and concern rode his tone.
Sarah frowned. “I assume my jerk of a brother is having me declared incompetent so he can take over the family stock holdings.” Andrew had sent her to Brancrest for the three-month evaluation—after gaining a court order allowing it. He’d obviously jumped right into having her declared incompetent, thus giving himself power of attorney.
Jase growled low. “What about the Pringle Pharmaceutical stock? She can’t transfer ownership to us?”
She took a step back. Son of a bitch. This was about her grandfather’s company? Hurt slid under the anger. Max had kissed her. Acted like he genuinely liked her. “You’re not getting my stock.”
Max turned to face her, his jaw hardening until it looked like solid rock. “Want to bet?”
That was it. “I’ll help you gain my records from here, then I’m on my own.” She glared at Jase. “The main records room is on the third floor, north corner. Look for the orange cabinets. Everything is in old
manila files. There’s also an internal computer system with records.”
“I can blow that.” Jase rubbed his hands together. “Good-bye computer system.”
He and Conn slipped out the door.
Sarah focused on the doctor and leaned both hands atop the desk, leaving clear handprints. “I want my records. Now.”
A door to the side of Robard’s desk opened, a gun leading the way. “I’m afraid I already have those.” White faced with red hair having black tips, a Kurjan flashed sharp fangs.
Chapter 5
Sarah opened her mouth, unable to scream.
Faster than her brain could catch up, Max whisked her behind him, leaping for the intruder. The gun discharged, ripping into Max and sending him sprawling in the wide guest chair. He bounded up, hurdled the desk, and sent papers spiraling.
He caught the Kurjan around the middle. They crashed into the side door, splintering the wood into pieces. Odd green lasers shot from the gun, forming round holes in the ceiling. Max pummeled the weapon and it spiraled in the air, landing under the guest chair. Punches so fast they blurred together were followed by pained grunts.
The Kurjan was several inches taller than Max, who had to be at least six foot seven. Yet, Max had bulk. Fast, well-trained bulk. He connected with an elbow in the Kurjan’s swirling purple eyes, following with a punch that cracked the Kurjan’s ribs. They popped like sparks in a fire.
Dr. Robard jumped up and skirted the desk, smacking into Sarah. “Run.” His long, tapered fingers dug into her arms. “Run, damn it.”
Frozen, she couldn’t move, her gaze on the deadly fight.
The Kurjan wrapped his legs around Max’s waist and twisted to the side, throwing him against the wall. Then he started toward her.
She shrieked.
Max flipped to his feet, grabbing the Kurjan by the belt and yanking him back.
Sarah turned to run, tangling her feet with Dr. Robard’s and smashing him into the chair. They crashed to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Her chin landed on his shoulder. Pain cascaded through her face. Holy hell, that hurt.
Robard sprawled beneath her, his glasses askew. She shook her head, levering onto her hands and knees. Cold tile chilled her palms as she tried to regain her balance. Panting, she scrambled back and turned her head toward the fight.
Max lifted the Kurjan, swung his torso, and slammed the monster onto the desk. Glass shattered. Sarah ducked, yelping when a piece cut into her shoulder. She grabbed the chair and pulled herself to stand.
The Kurjan flopped to the floor unconscious, landing between the chrome legs of the desk. Blood ran down his impossibly white face and into his thick hair.
Max panted, blood dripping off his chin. “How many more are here?”
Dr. Robard scooted back, pulling his legs away from Sarah’s feet before standing. He wiped sweat off his forehead. “He’s the only one. Been waiting for you two hours. Hiding in the closet.”
Sarah rounded on the doctor. “So. Believe me now?”
“Yes.” Sorrow filled the doctor’s intelligent eyes.
Wait a minute. Sarah slowly pivoted to face Max. “You knew. All the guns, knives, and weapons were because you knew he might be here.”
Max shrugged. “When your website went down, it made sense we’d come for your records. They probably sent this guy after we escaped from the motel. So, yeah, it was a possibility.”
Sulfur scented the air. Faster than a whisper, the Kurjan lunged for Max, stabbing a blade into his shoulder and a fist into his face. Max stumbled back, fangs shooting out his mouth. He growled, grabbing the Kurjan and throwing him through the double-paned window.
The animal screamed as sun bit into his flesh. Blisters erupted on his skin. Smoke billowed up, and he sank to the ground. Dead.
Max slowly turned to face her, fangs out, one eye a bright pink, the other the muddy brown.
A vampire. A real vampire. Sarah’s ears filled with a dull roar. She stepped back as a haze dropped over her vision. Then the world turned dark and she dropped to the floor.
Sarah awoke as the helicopter landed and the rotor died away. She blinked. Warmth surrounded her. Strong arms held her, and a steady heartbeat thumped against her ear. The scent of fresh cedar filled her senses. Max. Her butt rested on his thighs. The desire she’d been combating flared to life again.
Reality slammed spikes beneath her eyelids. Vampire. The man was a monster. She shoved him, struggling.
The side door opened and he stepped out onto a rooftop. His boots crunched gravel. The wind whipped into her hair. One hand cupped her head, pressing her into his chest. “Settle down, Milaya. You’re safe.”
A muffled sob rose from her chest. She shut her eyes. Concentrate . She needed to focus to get out of this mess. Tight muscles shifted and Max maneuvered out of the wind, quickly descending a flight of stairs and dodging through a doorway. He removed his hand and Sarah lifted her head.
Fall-colored patterned wallpaper covered the walls, reminding her of the principal’s office at the elementary school where she used to teach. Inside the penthouse of a hotel, Max took long strides across marble to place her gently on an embroidered sofa. Then he backed slowly away.
She scooted to the edge in case she needed to run. Vibrations wandered through her ... slow and lazy. The couch was new. The person—a woman—who’d hand embroidered the intricate leaves had enjoyed the process, humming the entire time. Sarah settled herself. “You were shot and stabbed.”
“I heal fast.”
The view of Mt. Rainier out the floor-to-ceiling windows caught her eye and she turned her head. “So. Vampires have money, huh?” Sarah focused back on him.
His grin matched the humor in his eyes. His bourbon-colored eyes were much lighter and more animated than the contacts he’d been wearing. “You’re a spunky one, Sarah.” Warmth and approval coated his gravelly voice.
“And you’re a sneaky, lying, money grabbing ... vampire.” Anger darted through her so quickly her skin tingled. She leaped to her feet. To think she’d been attracted to him. Yeah. Past tense. She had been attracted to him. Her body called her a liar. Lying to herself was perfectly acceptable.
“Well.” He ran a hand through his thick hair, leaving it sexy and rumpled. “I’ve been upfront, honest, and have no interest in your money. I just haven’t told you everything.”
“You’re a vampire”—or she’d suffered a psychotic break at Brancrest and was in some odd coma—“which is probably why my gift doesn’t work. Why I can’t get images from things you touch.”
“Yeah, sounds right to me.” He glanced down at the rips and tears in his dark shirt. “I’m a vampire and we’re at war with the Kurjans.”
Thoughts zinged around her head like a ball in a pinball machine. “But, you have scars. Aren’t you immortal?”
“I’m immortal—except I can be beheaded or lose all my blood and go brain dead.” His eyes sizzled as he met her gaze. “The scars. Well, we can scar, but it takes some serious effort. I was young.”
Sadness washed through her. She steeled her spine. It was not the time to waver or feel sorry for him. “You’re a vampire .”
“Yeah. We are the good guys, Sarah—and we need your help.”
Oh no, he didn’t. “I helped you already. You have my loony bin records.” Thoughts zinged through her mind until she gasped. “Wait a minute. What did you do with Dr. Robard?” He’d drugged her and had refused to believe her, but the guy meant well. He’d probably helped a lot of truly crazy people. The vampires wouldn’t have killed him to keep their secret, right?
“The doctor is fine.” Max stalked over to a polished dining table and began removing his weapons, dropping them with soft plunks.
She eyed a gun. If she could get past him—
“Don’t even think about it.” Irritation and warning filled his tone.
“Promise me you didn’t kill the doctor.”
“I promise.” His weapons removed, Max yanked the shirt
over his head. A nearly healed wound marred his right shoulder. Tanned skin covered hard muscle, his abs tapering to a trim waist. So male.
Sarah’s abdomen heated. Her thighs softened. She shook her head. Her body might want the man, but her brain knew better. “Did you turn the doctor into a vampire?” God, were they going to turn her into a vampire? The idea of tasting someone’s blood made her want to hurl.
Max snorted. “You can’t turn someone into a vampire. We’re born, not made. Just another species on earth.”
Well. That was a new one. “Are vampires and Kurjans related?”
“No. We have the same number of chromosomes, but we’re too different. We must be different races.” He growled the last, as if maybe trying to convince himself as well as her.
“Chromosomes?”
“Yeah. Both vampires and Kurjans have thirty chromosomal pairs.” Max poked at the wound. “Sit down, Sarah. We need to talk.”
She eyed the stack of weapons and sat. “You drink blood?” Was he going to drink hers?
“We need blood like you do. But we only drink blood once in a while, either in battle ... or sex.”
Her body reacted to his low voice, her nipples sharpening into hard points. Sex and biting. Who knew? She sucked in air. “The sun doesn’t kill you?”
“Nope. We’re fine with the sun. But it does kill the Kurjans. Now, we need to talk.”
The man wanted to talk, did he? “My entire reality has come crashing down, numerous times. What bizarre facts do you want to hit me with now, Max?”
“ ‘There are no facts, only interpretations.’ ” He dropped onto the matching love seat.
“Seriously? You’re quoting Nietzsche?” Good looking, tough, and well learned. Who the hell was Max?
“Sorry.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his chin. “I’ve been studying to teach Janie—the educational television shows aren’t enough. I’m not doing a good enough job with her. Besides, I like Nietzsche.”