She hesitated, but the pressure in her bladder was becoming too strong to ignore. If she came out and he was lying face-first on the ground, she would deal with it then, but she preferred not to piss her pants.
Callie pulled open the heavy metal door, dashed into the bathroom, and used it as quickly as she could. When she finished, she splashed water on her face and scrubbed her arms as she washed away the blood clinging to her.
She studied the dark circles under her eyes and the lines around her mouth while she worked. She looked a good ten years older than her twenty-six years, but at least she was still alive.
She wanted to stand at the sink and spend the next ten hours scrubbing herself, but she didn’t take anywhere near as long as she would have liked to clean herself. Maybe later, when Lucien was stronger, she could return.
And she assumed he would get stronger; he had to after the amount of blood he’d consumed. The blood had made him unsteady, but eventually, the drugs would make their way out of his system. And then what would happen?
She’d be left with a stronger vampire to deal with, and she had no idea what he would do with her.
Callie buried her apprehension over her uncertain future, tossed the paper towels into the trash can, and rushed out of the bathroom. Lucien remained leaning against the wall where she left him, but now his head was back and his mouth hung open.
Had he passed out? That would be as bad as if he hit the ground.
“Lucien,” she hissed.
He jerked as if she’d pinched him and blinked at her like he’d never seen her before.
“We has ta go,” he said.
His voice was more slurred than before. She draped his arm around her shoulders and encircled her arm around his waist again.
“We have to stop and find someplace to stay,” she said.
If they didn’t stop, he would drop, and she’d be screwed.
They staggered into another row of units, and he led her over to one in the middle. He lowered his arm from her shoulders and, kneeling on the ground, tore the thick padlock free.
“Why this one?” she asked.
“I’m not… not making it… any further.”
That was as good a reason as any, she decided as she knelt and grasped the bottom of the door. The metal door rattled as she lifted it to reveal the contents within.
Against the walls were rows of clear containers stacked to the ceiling. Black marker neatly labeled each of the boxes, and through the plastic sides, she saw they contained the contents of someone’s house. The left wall held the kitchen, bathroom, and office. The back wall was the living room and bedroom, and the wall on her right was another bedroom or two.
Propped against the row on her right was also a mattress and box spring. She led Lucien inside and set him on the ground before hurrying over to lay the bed on the floor. He crawled onto it as she pulled the door down.
The darkness that descended on the small room was so complete she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face as she stood behind the door. She longed for a light or her phone or something that would penetrate the eternal blackness, but there was nothing.
She edged away from the door and went to sit on the floor, but a hand encompassed her wrist and tugged her forward. Her foot caught on the edge of the mattress, and she fell forward.
Lucien caught her before she landed on the soft pad. Before she could right herself, he enclosed his arms around her and pulled her down against him. She’d grown used to his potent aroma, but she wasn’t used to being locked against him.
When she tried to pull away, his arms cinched around her. “Stay,” he murmured.
She wanted to resist, but she was too exhausted to fight him. She hadn’t slept all of last night, and now that they were somewhere a little safer, her adrenaline was waning and exhaustion tugged at her heavy lids.
He might kill her while she slept, but she was too tired to care as his breath filled her ear and his body relaxed against hers. Finally, she stopped fighting it and passed out.
Chapter Thirteen
Callie had no idea what time it was when she woke again. For all she knew, she could have slept an hour, a day, or maybe even two. She willed the shadows to part and give her an answer, but of course, it didn’t.
She belatedly realized the owners of this unit might decide to retrieve their belongings, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She had much bigger problems than surprising a bunch of people looking to collect their things. One of them had his arm locked around her while he slept.
Her stomach rumbled. She’d shared some chicken tenders with her friends at the bar, but that was a day or two, or maybe three ago. It was a lot of running ago, and her belly was letting her know it did not approve of this new fasting and exercise thing.
She tried to edge out from Lucien’s arms, but they clamped around her. She bit back a sigh of frustration; she wanted free of him and this place. Out of the many things she wanted, mostly she wanted her old life back, but that life was gone. Somehow, she would have to figure out what her new life entailed.
However, she didn’t have to worry about that until they were free of the city. Then she could start to panic about how she would feed, clothe, and house herself. Until then, she would focus on making sure she stayed breathing.
When she tried to inch free again, Lucien growled, and she froze.
“Stay,” he murmured.
“I’m not a dog!”
Lucien was very aware she wasn’t a dog. Now that the hunger tearing him apart had eased, the effects of the drugs and alcohol were fading, and he’d truly slept for the first time in a month, he felt healthier and more clearheaded than he had in weeks.
And that clear head had left him with one realization: Callie was the most enticing woman he’d ever held in his arms, and he never wanted to let her go.
Unable to stop himself, he leaned closer and inhaled the scent of pomegranates on her. The sweet aroma was an inherent part of her, and he relished the smell as it filled his nostrils.
Her curvy body, nestled against his, was starting to awaken another hunger. He shifted so she wouldn’t feel his growing arousal. He was aware of her delicious scent, but he was also aware of his foul odor, and now was not the time or place to try making a move on her.
He would learn more about this woman, and he would enjoy memorizing every inch of her lush curves, but he doubted she was eager to be molested by a man who stunk so bad he could make a skunk turn tail and run.
Reluctantly, he eased his grip on her, and she slipped from his arms. He heard her shuffling footsteps before she collided with a stack of boxes and cursed. The boxes rattled, and he could picture her steadying them as the noise died down.
“What are you doing?” he asked as he pushed himself up on the mattress.
“Trying to find the door. I need to know what time it is.”
“I’ll get it. Stay where you are before you attract attention.”
Lucien rose and stepped off the mattress. With no light penetrating the interior of the unit, he couldn’t see, but his instincts guided him to the door. Kneeling, he grasped the bottom of the door and cracked it open enough to reveal the night beyond. The glow of a nearby halogen lamp set high on a post crept inside.
He closed the door again. “It’s nighttime.”
“I hate this darkness.” She’d give anything to see her hand in front of her face.