Runaway Vampire (Argeneau, #23)

It was a tough life, Mary thought with amusement and glanced to the bag to judge how much more blood there was in it. It was going down pretty quick, and didn’t bother her as much as it had at first. She didn’t exactly like the feel of cold fluid moving up her teeth, and she wasn’t pleased to have to actually consume blood, but at least she didn’t have to actually drink it cold from a cup or something. That would have been disgusting. This way she didn’t have to taste it or anything.

The moment the first bag emptied, Mary tore it off and slapped on another, eager to get the chore over with. It seemed to take forever, although she knew that was probably because she was waiting through it with nothing to distract her. Still, she was surprised when she finished the next two bags and Dante hadn’t yet returned.

Tearing the last bag from her mouth, she scooped up all four of the empty bags, crawled off the bed and took them into the bathroom to throw them in the small garbage can there. Mary then went right back to the bed.

Her getting up had apparently disturbed Bailey and the dog had raised her head to watch for her return. Mary smiled at the shepherd as she climbed back into bed, and then settled back onto her side and ran a hand down her side.

“We’re a pair, huh?” she asked softly, petting her. When Bailey just closed her eyes on a little huff of sound, Mary stopped petting her and instead curled her arm around her, careful not to get anywhere near her broken back leg. She then closed her eyes, surprisingly sleepy again. She never heard the door open when Dante returned.


“I hear Mary woke up.”

Dante turned from watching Bailey sniffing her way around the yard and smiled when he saw Russell approaching.

“Si,” he said, before turning back to continue watching Bailey. Mary had been asleep by the time he’d finished talking to Lucian and returned to the bedroom. He’d lain down with her for a while, but hadn’t been able to sleep. Instead, he’d simply lain there, his mind racing.

He’d worried about Tomasso, wondered where he was, and hoped that the men Lucian sent to look for the warehouse Mary had mentioned found it and got some information that might help them find Tomasso. When those worries had proven useless and raised his stress level and concern for his brother, Dante had then turned his thoughts to Mary and the future he planned to have with her. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been doing that when Bailey had got off the bed and pawed the door, letting him know she needed to go outside.

Leaving Mary sleeping, he’d immediately got up to bring the dog out. She was a fine animal: good-natured and well behaved. Mary had done a fine job with her.

“How is her head?” Russell asked, pausing beside him and turning to watch Bailey as well.

“It is back to its proper shape,” Dante said with a frown. Nothing in his life had terrified him as much as seeing Mary with the top of her head caved in. It was not a moment he would ever want to relive.

“Any pain?” Russell asked.

Dante’s mouth tightened. “The first time she woke up, yes, but not the second. However, she was not long awake.”

“I am sorry to say it, but she might yet have headaches then,” Russell murmured.

“Si.” Dante sighed the word unhappily. “And you are no sorrier to say it than I to think it. After the explosion and turning and now this accident, she has suffered enough.” He shook his head. “I should have accompanied her to the ladies’ room.”

Russell shrugged. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty, my friend. None of this is your fault.”

Dante didn’t agree, but merely changed the subject. “Where is Francis?”

“At the gate,” Russell glanced back the way he’d come. “He asked me to come check on Mary for him.” He turned back and smiled at Dante. “He likes her. So do I.”

“I always knew you were both intelligent men,” Dante said solemnly and Russell laughed. Smiling faintly, himself, he asked, “So you are back on the gate. Does this mean Francis is done with wanting to become a hunter?”

“Oh, hell no,” Russell said dryly. “He was all ready to rush right down to Venezuela to hunt down the bastard behind those men who fried in the van. It took a lot of talking to convince him to wait until he has had some more training.”

“Has he not already had training?” Dante asked with surprise.

Russell grimaced and nodded reluctantly. “Yes, but—”

“But you have convinced him he needs more because you do not wish him anywhere near danger. You do not wish to lose him,” Dante suggested sympathetically.

Russell ran a weary hand through his short fair hair and nodded. “I waited a millennia for him, and while I did not recognize that he was my life mate immediately on encountering him, once I did . . .” He shrugged. “I could not bear to lose him now, Dante. I could not go back to the lonely existence I was living before him, especially now that I know what I would be missing.” He paused and shook his head. “I do not know how Lucian bore it all those millennia after losing his first life mate in the fall. I could not do it were I to lose Francis.”

Dante nodded, understanding completely. He already felt the same way about Mary.

They were both silent for a minute, and then Russell cleared his throat and said, “The reason Francis wanted me to check on Mary was because, as he reminded me, we never did get to that shopping trip, and he would still very much like to help her shop.”