Marcus answered as he stepped inside. “We’re here, Oliver. Please ask her to lower her weapon.”
“It’s okay, Kayla,” Oliver said. “They’re friends. Let them help Nick.”
Managing a jerky nod, she lowered her weapon but didn’t relinquish it.
Marcus approached with caution. He was dressed all in black the way Nick and Eliana often were. Black T-shirt. Black cargo pants. Long black coat. Big black boots. He was about the same height as Nick with equally broad shoulders. His hair was longer though. And she absently noted he was handsome.
The man behind him was similarly garbed but had shorter hair. Expression grim, he bore an air of menace as he studied Kayla with guarded eyes.
Marcus kept his hands visible as he entered the kitchen. He motioned to Nick. “Will you let us see to him?”
Kayla glanced back, only then realizing she still shielded much of him. “Oh. Yes.” She straightened and moved a little to one side, unwilling to stray too far from him. Needing to touch him as well, she kept a hand on his shoulder.
Both men swore when they saw the extent of his injuries.
Marcus knelt beside her. “He was like this when you found him?”
“No. He was a cat when I found him.”
Marcus exchanged a quick look with Roland as the latter knelt on Nick’s other side.
Oliver swore on the phone. “Okay. Kayla? There’s an explanation for that.”
She swallowed. “The explanation being that Nick can shape-shift. That’s the gift he was born with, isn’t it?”
“Yyyyyyeah. He was going to tell you. He just…”
“Was looking for a way to do it that wouldn’t freak me out,” she finished for him.
Marcus winced. “I’d say he failed on that front.”
Nodding, Roland peeled the towel away from Nick’s neck.
Kayla felt only a modicum of relief when she noted the bleeding had stopped.
Roland rested a hand on the gash in Nick’s neck, settled the other on his chest, then met her gaze. “I need you to release him for a moment.”
She didn’t want to. She needed the contact. It might very well be all that was keeping her from falling apart.
“Please,” Marcus tossed in.
If Oliver trusted these men to take care of Nick, she should do whatever they asked.
Though Kayla reluctantly withdrew her touch, she didn’t back away.
“Someone switch to video call,” Oliver grumbled, “so I can see what the fuck is happening.”
While Marcus fiddled with her phone, Kayla anxiously studied Roland.
Oliver swore when Marcus angled the phone so he could see Nick’s condition.
Roland closed his eyes.
When Kayla shifted her attention to Nick, she sucked in a breath. The ragged holes in his chest began to close. As she watched in utter astonishment, the edges of each wound drew together, sealed, scarred, then flattened out and healed as new flesh replaced the old. Blood still coated him, but the wounds disappeared with astonishing swiftness.
She reached toward Nick’s chest.
Marcus caught her wrist. “Wait until Roland finishes.”
Incapable of speech, she nodded.
Marcus gave her wrist a reassuring squeeze before he released it and studied his friend. “Roland? How are you doing?”
Roland kept his eyes closed. “There’s a lot of damage, but I can take it.”
Kayla didn’t know what that meant.
Minutes passed. Or was it seconds that felt like minutes?
She didn’t know. It just seemed as though half an hour crept by while her heart tried to fight its way out of her chest. The lump in her throat refused to subside. Her eyes constantly burned with the need to blink, or maybe to weep.
At last, Roland withdrew his hands and sat back.
Kayla looked from him to Nick and back. “Is he going to be okay?”
Roland nodded and caught Marcus’s eye. “He needs blood. And I can’t give him mine. I need it after healing him.”
A heavy silence fell.
Marcus glanced her way. “Kayla, why don’t you get cleaned up while we give Nick a transfusion?”
She glanced down. Bright red splotches marred her white tank top and gray yoga pants. Raising her gaze, she shook her head. “I’m fine.”
Oliver peered out from her phone. “It’s okay, Kayla. They’re just going to give him some blood and clean him up for you.”
She had almost lost Nick tonight. She wasn’t going to leave him. “I can clean him up myself.”
Marcus cleared his throat. “He probably wouldn’t want you to see him like this.”
“Like what? Naked?” She shook her head. “We shower together every night. He won’t mind.”
Marcus looked at Roland.
Roland’s lips tightened. “He meant Nick probably wouldn’t want you to watch us transfuse him.”
She stared at him blankly. “Why? Nick saw them give me a transfusion at the hospital.”
“It isn’t the same,” Roland murmured.
“Kayla,” Oliver said, “just trust me on this, okay? You’ve seen enough tonight, had enough shocks—”
“And I’m still here,” she pointed out. “Nick almost died. I’m not leaving him.”
No one moved.
“Well?” she prodded. “Go ahead. You said he needs blood. Give him blood before he suffers organ damage or whatever the hell else massive blood loss can cause. Please.”
Marcus swore. “Fine. Just… try not to freak out.”
It was a blood transfusion. Why would she freak out?
Marcus lifted Nick’s wrist, bringing it closer to his face. His lips parted, and what could only be described as long, sharp fangs descended over his canines.
Her eyes widened as shock tore through her.
Marcus was a freaking vampire?
He sank his fangs into Nick’s wrist.
“Oh shit!” Kayla whipped up the 9mm and aimed it at Marcus’s forehead.
In a blur of motion, Roland yanked the weapon from her hand before she could pull the trigger.
“Shit!” No way in hell was she going to let that bastard drain the last of Nick’s blood.
Deprived of her weapon, she leapt up and dove toward the stove. On the wall beside it, an array of cooking knives clung to a magnetic strip of wood. She grabbed the gleaming chef’s knife, spun around, and slammed into a hard chest.
Roland caught her wrist before she could lunge forward and plunge the blade into Marcus’s back. “Easy,” he said, his voice low. “Take it easy.”
“He’s a vampire!” she blurted as she strained against his hold. “He’s going to drain him!” Tears blurred her vision for the hundredth time since finding Nick unconscious and bleeding on her floor.
“He isn’t a vampire,” Roland said, his tone still gentle despite the hard look about him. “He’s an immortal.” Never loosening his grip on her wrist, he slipped around behind her and looped an arm around her waist. Slowly he inched her sideways until she could see around the counter. “Marcus isn’t draining him. He’s infusing him with his own blood. Look at Nick’s face. See the color returning to it?”
She stared, heart hammering in her chest. Nick’s face did seem to be a little less pale.