The Scarlet Deep Page 48
Except when he turned the corner, she was no longer there.
Nor were the humans.
His heart began to thump.
“Anne?”
He turned and walked into the small park, only to trip over the legs of one of the boys.
Dammit. She’d always been fast.
“Anne, stop,” Murphy said, his voice calm and quiet. “Whatever you’re doing, stop right now.”
A rustling behind him. Murphy dragged the boy out from behind the bush and crouched down to look, but there were no marks on him. He appeared to be sleeping. The park was only a small triangle of shrubs and trees, with three paths that all led to a fountain in the middle. If she was in the park, there weren’t many places to hide.
“Anne?” He stood and opened his senses, searching for her with his amnis. “Áine, love, don’t do this. You’ll be very angry with yourself tomorrow.”
He closed his eyes when he felt her behind him. Her cool lips touched the nape of his neck.
“Go home,” she whispered. “Leave.”
The push of her amnis flooded him, but he was prepared for it.
“No,” he said, focusing on his concern for his mate and not on the nearly irresistible compulsion to flee. “I don’t think I will.”
He spun and tried to trap her, but she’d already jumped back.
Her lips had curled back, and she bared her fangs. “I told you to leave!”
“No.”
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Anne wasn’t much of a fighter. She could defend herself when necessary, but she depended on her ability to push vampires to her will more than she used brute strength. Murphy reached for the water trickling from the fountain, dashing it into her eyes and hoping it was enough to jolt his mate out of her bloodlust.
She reared back with a short gasp, the cold water snapping her back to herself. Murphy held himself very still, watching her as reason returned to her eyes and the predatory edge softened, even if it didn’t quite leave.
“Patrick?”
“Are you back?”
Anne looked around, saw the boy on the grass. “Dammit!” she said, running back into the shadows. She emerged with another young man thrown over her shoulder. “Quick,” she said. “Grab the other one. They’re sleeping, but it won’t be for long.”
“Wanted them awake and frightened when you fed from them?”
“Lecture me later. Help me now.”
He gathered the other human and propped him on the bench next to his friend. Then Anne dragged the first boy on the grass over to the same bench and sat him on the ground next to his friends. The boys were already blinking awake as Anne bent down and patted their cheeks.
“Lads,” she said. “Are you all right?”
The one on the ground blinked awake first. “ Oi. What the—”
“Little too much at the pub, eh?” Murphy said, putting on his most fatherly voice, though the young men only looked a few years younger than him. “Do you live close by? Need us to call someone for you?”
All three were awake and looking around.
“Oi, Jazz, where is she?”
“What are you talking ’bout?”
“The girl. Lush.” He shook his head as Murphy and Anne stepped farther back into the shadows. “Don’t remember exactly.”
Murphy put his arm around Anne’s shoulders and said, “If you’re close to home, we’ll be going. You boys all right?”
“Yeah, mate. Thanks for that.” The boy on the ground stood. “Sorry. Yeah, we’re just around the corner. I’ll get them home. Weird night.”
“Have a good evening and stay safe.”
“Will do, mate. Thanks.”
Murphy herded Anne toward the iron gate and back toward their drivers, his hand gripping her upper arm. “Well, Anne love, why don’t we grab that drink after all?” he whispered. “Then you can explain to me back in our room how you got this bloody close to the edge.”
“Patrick, I just need to feed. I’m f—”
“I don’t like being lied to, so why don’t you stop before you start?”
Now that concern was wearing off, he was angry. Blazingly angry. And, he had to admit, more than a little scared.
Anne was one of the most self-controlled vampires he’d ever met. What was happening to her?
ANNE’S hunger was burning her from the inside out. She felt as if she could crawl out of her own skin. Hot then cold. Her throat burned, but her stomach threatened nausea. Murphy almost dragged her back to the car. He opened the door and shoved her in the backseat, then he crawled in behind her and barked at the driver.
“Ozzie!”
“Yes, boss.”
“When was the last time you gave blood?”
“Eh… two weeks ago.”
Murphy snapped. “Your arm. Now.”
Without a word, the driver rolled up his sleeve and stuck his arm over the backseat. Murphy hauled Anne into his lap despite her protests.
“Two weeks is too soon,” Anne said.
“Have you seen the man? He’s built like an ox. Drink.”
The scent of Ozzie’s wrist caused her fangs to ache. They hadn’t retracted since the park. She was too hungry.
“Drink, dammit! You’ve been taking nothing but blood-wine since we’ve been here, for fuck knows what reason. That’s not a full meal. It was never intended to be. Drink, Anne.”