Page 19 of Heir

The curtain was pulled back to reveal the head doctor again. “All right, Lord Ferrin, this is to indicate that you are leaving of your own accord, against medical advice. Please sign here.” I signed, glared at all the hospital staff and allowed Raver to help me walk out to the front exit. He wanted to wheel me in a wheelchair, but I adamantly refused.

I did let him run to the parking lot and bring his car around so I didn’t have to walk any further than I had to though.

Once we were on the road, he pulled out the blood bag and handed it to me, along with a paper straw. “I even snagged you a straw from the cafeteria.”

“My hero,” I said dryly, opening the bag, poking in the straw, and taking a long sip.

Instantly, I felt stronger. The ache in my chest was still there, but my head was clearer and so were my senses. I could smell her again and I gave Raver directions, forcing him to weave through traffic like a racecar driver.

“So what does she look like?” he asked me, his eyes focused forward on the dark, wet road. It was nighttime again. How long was I at the hospital?

A small, faint smile pulled at one corner of my mouth. “Perfect,” I said softly.

He smirked. “Is it true you can’t get hard for anybody but your mate once she’s come of age?”

“From everything I’ve heard, yes. Across all species, I believe. Donovar said that was the case when he met and mated with Callie.”

Raver shook his head. “No fucking thanks. I hope it’s another couple hundred years before my mate comes of age.”

“Left,” I grunted.

He took a left. “Is it the same for the females? Do their legs just like not open for anyone but their mate?”

I shook my head and sipped my blood bag. “No idea. Another left.”

My mate’s scent was strong and heady now. We were close. I sat up in my seat, finishing the bag of blood and tossing it onto the floor of Raver’s rental car.

We were in an industrial area now, but it was also where I would say those classified as “hipsters” lived. A lot of the warehouses had been renovated and gentrified into quirky apartments. “Here!” I said, pointing to one of the apartments.

Raver threw on the brakes hard enough that I was thrown forward in my seat against the belt. A car behind us honked.

“A little more warning next time,” Raver grumbled, pulling over to the curb.

I closed my eyes and pulled in that floral, spicy scent. She was here. My mate.

“You want me to come in?” Raver asked.

I shook my head. “No. I will be fine.”

Raver merely nodded at me. We were childhood friends, growing up in the Middle Ages after the collapse of the Roman Empire. He knew me better than anybody and knew that I would want to do this on my own. I could see the glimmer of concern in his eyes though. We’d been through countless wars together, battered, bloodied, bruised, and nearly beheaded. But he’d never seen me with the Mate’s Ache.

“I’m gonna grab a hotel and stick around for the night in case you need anything. Just send out the bat signal.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes, opening up the car door.

“Go get ‘er, tiger.”

Shaking my head, I shut the door, adjusted the coat of my black suit and double-checked that my loafers were scuff-free.

I knew her last name. Playfair. I scanned the resident list on the buzzer at the front of the building near the door. There wasn’t a Playfair listed.

She was with a friend at the hospital, but I was too focused on my mate. I never bothered to listen for another name.

I glanced out at the road where Raver sat in his car watching me. Shaking his head, he got out. “Did you forget your lock picking kit back at the mansion?” His tone was ninety-nine percent sarcasm and one-percent humor.

“I did, in fact.”

Pulling out a lock pick kit I recognized from many of our off-the-record jobs, he made quick work of the front door lock. “Easy peasy, bro.” His grin was all cheese.

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