Sighing, she undid her seat belt as James turned off the engine, then slid out of the car when he did and walked around to meet him in front of the vehicle. When he held his hand out, she automatically slid hers into it, and they crossed the parking lot hand in hand. It was the first affectionate gesture she'd felt comfortable with in the two weeks since she'd been home.
Things had been weird since her return, Holly acknowledged, but knew it was all her fault. She was the one who kept reading his thoughts. She'd promised herself she wouldn't, but had broken that promise repeatedly. She just couldn't help it, and it was making her crazy.
"There they are."
Holly tore herself from her thoughts and peered around the restaurant, smiling when she spotted Bill standing up to wave at them. James started forward at once, pulling her along with him and they made their way quickly to the table.
"Oh, baby! Someone's turned into hot sauce," Bill said on a surprised laugh as he took Holly into his arms for a bear hug and bussed both her cheeks. He stepped back then, but kept his hold on her arms to look her over, adding, "What the hell have you done to yourself? I mean I can see you've lost weight, but it's like you've taken a sexy drug or something."
Holly blushed furiously at the compliment. It was the weirdest damned thing. Ever since getting home, people were acting like she'd turned into Angelina Jolie while she was gone. Not just the men, but the women. It was like the nanos were some sort of chick magnet that attracted members of both sexes. It was bizarre, and discomfiting for Holly, who wasn't at all comfortable in social situations to begin with. Although, she'd never felt anxious around Justin, Gia, Dante, and Tomasso, she recalled.
"You do look good," Elaine agreed, nudging her husband out of the way to hug Holly as well. She then looked her over as she released her and shook her head. "What is it? Some amazing and weird New York diet?"
Holly shook her head on a strained laugh and quickly slid into the booth to hide behind the table as she said, "Just lots of fresh air I guess."
"Yeah, right, fresh air. In New York?" Bill snorted as they all settled in the booth, he and Elaine taking the opposite bench seat and James sliding in beside her. "That would be the pollution diet then?"
"If that's what pollution does for you, I'm in," Elaine said with a grin.
Holly smiled faintly and picked up the menu lying on the table in front of her, hoping they'd change the subject.
"You must be happy to see her, James my boy," Bill said and then teased, "I bet the house hasn't stopped rocking for the last two weeks."
James gave a weak laugh and muttered, "You know it."
Holly bit her lip and glanced sideways at her husband behind the protection of the menu. She was just in time to see him open and raise his own in front of his face. The action blocked him from Bill and Elaine's view, but she could see it and his expression was pinched. Sighing, she turned her attention back to her menu. The house hadn't rocked at all the last two weeks. They hadn't even had sex on Sunday night as they usually did . . . and that was her fault too.
Holly closed her eyes briefly as she recalled the first time James had tried to make advances in that area. It was the night she'd got home. Bill and Elaine hadn't been able to join them on such short notice and they'd gone to dinner alone. It was when they got home that James had tried to start something. Holly had been surprised when he'd suddenly started to kiss her in the hallway inside the front door. It wasn't Sunday after all, but she'd gone along with it.
Unfortunately, James had had a couple beers with supper and garlic Alfredo for his meal. The smell and taste of that combination as he'd kissed her had been overpowering to her new and heightened senses. Equally unfortunate was the fact that rather than offend him and gently suggest they both brush their teeth, she'd tried to suffer through it . . . and that hadn't worked out so well. After several minutes while he'd been kissing her, one hand squeezing her breast and the other fumbling at the zipper of the jeans she'd changed into, she'd had to push him away and make a run for the bathroom to toss up her own meal.
Afterward, Holly had lied and claimed that her tummy was upset and that her own meal must have been off. James had been sweet and bundled her off to bed to recover, but she'd read the disappointment in his thoughts. And what disappointment there had been. Here he'd been really interested for the first time in a long time and she wasn't up to it. It seemed that prior to her leaving on her "internship," he'd been bored to tears with their routine sex. That he only bothered on Sundays as a rule because he hadn't wanted to hurt her feelings or make her feel unwanted. Besides, he'd felt that for their marriage to work they should have sex at least once a week even if he had to imagine it was Elaine to get it up since Holly had gained those extra twenty pounds.
That last bit had left her gasping and in tears. Fortunately, James had put that down to her feeling unwell and had been even sweeter to her. But come Sunday, when he'd made the usual overtures, she hadn't been able to forget his words and despite reading his mind and knowing he wasn't imagining Elaine then, and that it was her new figure that interested him, Holly just hadn't been able to get past her hurt and work up any interest herself.
She'd tried to fake it and pretend interest, hoping that some small response might follow as they proceeded, but had felt nothing but disappointment. She'd inhaled the citrusy tang of James's aftershave, and found herself thinking she preferred Justin's more woodsy scent. And why couldn't he kiss her like Justin had? With passion and desperation instead of the wimpy nibbles he used. She wasn't even sure James knew his tongue was good for more than pushing food around inside his mouth.
Despite her pretended interest, there had been no spark at all. In truth, there had never been much spark to begin with in her marriage bed, but Holly hadn't known then what she was missing. Now that she had experienced the fireworks and passion Justin had produced in her with just a kiss, then in their shared dreams, she hadn't been able to stand the lack of it with James.
Of course, he had picked up on her lack of enthusiasm and had backed off. While she'd lain awake, feeling guilty for wanting a man other than her husband, he'd gone down to play video games through the night.
After a week of reading his thoughts and finding out other little things she really wished she didn't know, last Sunday had been a repeat of the previous. And this past week had been just more of the same. It wasn't that James's thoughts were deliberately cruel or unkind. It was stupid little things, like he suspected she was OCD because she was determined to keep the house clean. And he hated her meat loaf, which she'd always thought he liked . . . and her eggs were too runny, and her cookies were hard as rock . . .
Then there were bigger things, like while he appreciated that she'd worked while he finished his courses, James wished she'd hurry up and finish hers so that he wasn't carrying the lion's share of the burden when it came to supporting them. And why couldn't she have waited until he was making better money to switch from full-time work to part-time and start back to her classes? He felt guilty for these thoughts. After all, they had agreed to do it this way when they'd decided to marry, but he was tired of living hand to mouth. James felt her having to wait a couple years to go back to school wouldn't have been that big a deal, and they could live so much better now if she was still working full time.
Another big issue she'd discovered reading her husband's mind was that her discomfort in social situations embarrassed him and made him feel put upon. He felt he couldn't leave her alone at parties or she'd sit in a corner like a wallflower looking miserable. That had stung her and all Holly could think was that she hadn't been socially awkward at the nightclub with Justin, Gia and the boys. But then they hadn't spent the night giving her reproving looks, or censoring everything she said.
Holly had spent a lot of time the past two weeks thinking of her time with Justin and the others. Despite the situation, she'd laughed more and been more relaxed around them than she'd ever been in her life. She'd enjoyed her budding friendship with Gi
a, and had often found herself laughing at the twins' teasing as they trained her. She'd even enjoyed Justin's attempts to woo her. More than that she'd missed talking to the man. She kept recalling their chat on the way back from visiting his parents, and the others they'd had on their shared dream dates. They'd laughed a lot while bowling and then at the fair, at least they had before passion had overtaken them. She missed that laughter. She missed a lot of things. But mostly, she missed Justin . . . which made her feel guilty as hell and didn't help anything.
It seemed clear to Holly that unless she wanted to lose her marriage, she needed to stop thinking about Justin, banish him from her mind. She also needed to get past letting James's thoughts affect her. But it was hard. She knew she wasn't perfect and shouldn't think James would believe she was. She even had complaints of her own about him, but she still loved him, and she was quite sure he loved her despite the mild criticisms and complaints she'd read from his mind. But knowing he probably had complaints, that all husbands did, and actually knowing what those complaints were . . . well, it was two different things entirely. And Holly didn't have a clue what to do about it.
At this rate, it was looking like Gia, Justin, and the others were right and she was going to lose her marriage and her childhood sweetheart and then what would she do?
An image of Justin's laughing face came to mind and Holly forced it away. She couldn't let him affect her decision. She would not leave James for Justin. That could not be the reason. And she couldn't give up on her marriage this easily. Marriages took work. She needed to work at it. She would get past her memories of him, or find a way to block them. She had to.
"So?" Elaine said as Holly finally settled on what she would order and lowered her menu. "Tell us about New York."
Seventeen
"Bill was really weird tonight."
Holly watched the lights flickering past the car and shrugged with disinterest at James's comment. In her opinion, everyone had been acting weird tonight: Bill, Elaine, the waiter. Dear God, they'd all acted like she was Marilyn Monroe or something, fawning and sucking up to her, and hugging her too long as they'd left. Someone should have warned her about that side effect of being an immortal. She supposed it was handy when it came to feeding, but she had bagged blood to work with. Having everyone practically drooling on her was just embarrassing really when she knew she was the same person she'd been just a couple weeks ago. It had been bad enough when Bill had flirted with her lightly, but then Elaine had started jokingly suggesting that they have an orgy . . . well, Holly had been glad when they'd finished eating and could leave. Fortunately, James had seemed just as eager to go home as her.
"Elaine was kind of acting strange too. I think she was actually hitting on you," James said now.
"Jealous?" Holly muttered, glaring out the window now.
"What?" He laughed, but it didn't sound like a natural laugh. "Did you just ask me if I was jealous? Why the hell would I be jealous of Elaine?"
Holly opened her mouth, and then closed it and shrugged. "She's an attractive woman."
"Maybe. I've never noticed," he lied and Holly turned sharply to peer at him with disbelief.
"Really?" she asked dryly.
James shrugged, his attention firmly on the road ahead. "She's not my type."
"Oh, right, so you've never imagined it was her you were making love to on a Sunday night?"
"What?" he squawked with obvious alarm. "Where would you get something like that?"
"From you," Holly snarled, suddenly furious. Between classes, work, and going out it had been a really long day for her, a long two weeks actually, and while she'd tried not to be hurt by all of his little thoughts this past week, she was. They had cut her to the quick and her self-esteem was now bleeding out and turning to red rage.
"Don't be ridiculous, I would never say something like that," he protested.
"No. But you sure thought it, James."
"What, you can read minds now?" He laughed nervously and shook his head. "You're just being paranoid."
"Paranoid?" Holly asked in dulcet tones, her temper completely shredded. "Oh no, you don't get to call me paranoid, James. You can think I'm OCD and socially awkward, and you can pretend it's Elaine you're banging to get it up, but you do not get to tell me I'm paranoid for knowing it."
"What the hell?" He glanced to her with alarm and then back to the road. "Where are you getting this stuff?"
"From you, James," she repeated grimly. "From your thoughts."
Grinding his teeth, he tightened his hands on the steering wheel and shook his head. "That's not--"
"Possible?" Holly finished for him.
"You can't--"
"Read your mind?" she finished again, and then snorted grimly. "Actually I can. You see, I wasn't away in New York at the start of the month. I was in Southern California, just outside Los Angeles, learning to be a vampire because I was stupid enough to run with scissors."
"What?" he squawked turning to peer at her. Then shock turned to anger, and he growled, "You've lost your mind."
"Really. Then what are these?" Holly asked, and opened her mouth to let her fangs slide out.
James stared, his anger slowly giving way to amazement and then fear. Before he could recover or respond, the sound of tearing metal hit her ears and Holly was thrown against the seat belt, then jerked back against the seat as they crashed into something. Even as they came to an abrupt halt, darkness was closing over Holly, dragging her into its soothing depths.
Something was dripping. That was the first thing Holly was aware of. It was followed by a damp sensation everywhere and pain. Lots of pain. Groaning, she opened her eyes and peered around, confused at first as to where she was and what had happened. A red light was glowing nearby, casting a nightmare vision across the interior of the car as it blinked on and off, briefly lighting up the man in the front seat next to her.
"James?" Holly murmured. She started to shift, to try to move closer to him, but sharp pain in her side made her halt and glance down. A tree branch had come through the windshield and impaled her, running through her right side and into the car seat.
"Nice," she muttered, and then grimaced.
A moan from James drew her attention his way, and Holly frowned and reached her left hand out to touch his shoulder. He was slumped on the deflated airbag draped over the steering wheel. He moaned again at her touch, but didn't respond otherwise and she glanced over him worriedly and then looked out at the front of the car.
They'd crossed into the oncoming lane and continued right off the road to crash into a tree, she saw. The driver's side of the car looked like a squeeze-box. Her gaze dropped toward James's legs then and alarm claimed her as she saw that the metal had been pressed in and crushed his legs. She couldn't even see most of his legs from the seat down, but she could smell the blood and guessed that was the dripping she heard, it was running over the metal and dripping on the already soaked car carpet.
God, all she could smell was blood.
"James, can you hear me?" she asked, her voice surprisingly strong considering how much it hurt to even breathe.
James moaned again, and this time, started to rouse and try to sit up, but then he cried out in agony and fell back against the steering wheel, unconscious once more.
Cursing, Holly turned her attention to the tree limb pinning her to the seat. It was a smallish branch, about four or five inches in diameter would be her guess. Gritting her teeth, Holly grasped it about six inches in front of her chest and managed to snap it in two.
"Couldn't have done that as a mortal," she muttered to herself as she tried to work herself up for what came next.
"This is gonna hurt," she grumbled, and then grabbed the end of the shaft now protruding from the right side of her stomach and yanked it out with one quick jerk and an agonized scream.
Holly sat clutching the stick and panting as she waited for the pain to ease. It was when she slowly became aware of liquid running down her stomach and
soaking her pants that she dared to glance down and see that she was pretty much hemorrhaging blood.
"Crap," she breathed, and then looked around for something to at least staunch some of the bleeding until her body could repair itself. Not spotting anything right away, Holly dropped the stick, popped open the glove compartment and retrieved the half roll of paper towels she'd placed in there just last week. Pulling off wads of "the quicker picker upper," she quickly stuffed it into the hole in her stomach, wincing as she did.
"I'd never make it as a field medic," she muttered to James's unconscious form as she unrolled more paper towel to add to the first bunch. "I hope the nanos don't think the paper towel is normal and try to turn me into a big roll of it or something."
Holly laughed weakly at her own joke, and then shook her head as she pictured herself as a roll of paper towels with arms and legs.
"Must be delirious," she decided.
When James moaned in response, Holly peered at him sharply, and then eased to the edge of her seat to brush the hair back from his face. She frowned at how pale he was. The man had lost a lot of blood, and he was still losing it. Holly was no doctor, but it seemed pretty obvious that his chances of surviving weren't good if they didn't get help soon.
She peered out the car windows, looking for that help. But of course they'd crashed in one of the few stretches of uninhabited road between the restaurant in San Francisco and their home in San Mateo. James would insist on using back roads instead of the freeway. Cursing again, she turned to peer at her husband, her mind working.
This wasn't his fault; it was hers for arguing with him while he was driving. If she'd just kept her temper in reign and her mouth shut . . . How had she expected him to react when she'd flashed him her fangs? And she shouldn't have been running with scissors in the first place. If not for that, Justin wouldn't have turned her to save her life, and everything else that had happened, wouldn't have, including her husband dying on a dark back road at the age of twenty-six.