Page 66 of Seduction in Blood
My path down the remaining stairs was blocked from other vamps turning back, their gazes looking up. Not at me. They must have thought the vamp chasing me was up to something. I ducked, barely missing another elbow heading my way. A large man blocked my exit. I kicked the back of his knees and he dropped. Before I could step over him, someone knocked into me, and without thinking, I used one of Sergi's moves with a quick jab to the face, followed by an elbow to the head. The man went down, but I hadn't seen the man behind him, who was in the middle of throwing his own punch. It landed in my gut. The hit was so unexpected and was delivered with the full force of a raging vamp that I went flying—right through the stained-glass window.
* * *
Devon forceda smile as he listened to a couple from Italy, who'd arrived two days earlier for a business meeting before hearing about the ball. After a few seconds, Devon became bored with the man's preening. Everyone here thought they were the most important person in the room.
Across the ballroom, he noticed Lorenzo speaking with another council member as they crossed the floor and disappeared into one of the many sitting rooms. He happened to glance up to find Cressa watching him.
She was radiant, if a bit nervous. Only Devon would know why she was truly nervous, and it had nothing to do with being his Blood Ward in a mansion filled with vamps. The yell forced his attention to the right. Someone was running toward the stairs.
It all happened so fast, the scene too familiar, that he froze. She was too far away with a crowd between them. Men barreled their way down the stairs, and guests were being shoved aside. Cressa went down in a tumble but found her way clear. Then she lurched toward the stained-glass window, and Devon's breath caught for an instant before Cressa regained her balance. She made two decisive moves to clear her path before a vicious blow to her mid-section sent her crashing through the window.
He moved instantly, racing toward the front door. Sergi joined him as he ran across the porch. He never slowed as he took the corner to the side of the mansion. He spared a moment to see where the broken window was, and his heart lurched when he saw the pile of old boards and dry-wall. Raul must have just completed remodeling before the ball and hadn't removed the construction debris.
Cressa lay on top, her head turned away from him, one leg bent at an odd angle, her arms flung wide. He only slowed to make sure he didn't create more damage climbing over the broken boards to Cressa's battered body.
"Get the car," he yelled, knowing Sergi was still close. Devon still sensed Sergi's presence. He must have texted for the limo.
Devon made his way over the debris before kneeling next to Cressa. He brushed strands of hair from her face. Blood from the broken glass dotted her pale visage, thankfully missing her eyes. He slid his fingers down her neck, found a faint pulse, and closed his eyes in relief. Shaking off his relief, he scanned her body, taking in the crimson dress drenched in darker red, and shivered as if a cold wind had blown over him.
The vision from the dream had come true. Would it have ended differently if he'd made her change into the emerald dress?
He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. "Cressa, can you hear me?"
When she moved her head toward him, her lashes fluttered. He gently lifted her head, moving with infinite grace to sit so he could cradle her head in his arms.
Cressa moaned as he ran a hand over her limbs and then her body. She screamed when he touched her sides and lower back. Her stomach was hard, and he assumed there were internal injuries. He glanced up at Sergi.
"She won't make it to a hospital."
Sergi cursed. "This is dangerous."
Devon bent his head. What was it about this creature that entangled him? At first, he thought it was her skill as a thief, and then it was his suspicions of her true nature. But it was more than that. The kiss in the library the previous evening had convinced him of that. She led to damnation. He shook his head, running a hand through her increasingly bloody hair. A flap of skin had been torn from her scalp, either from the glass or a nail from the boards she lay on.
"I have no choice."
He bent lower, twisting his body from onlookers behind him who were peering through the broken glass from the landing. "Cressa, I'm going to ask you to do something you won't want to do. But its critical you do as I ask."
She moaned in response. Her eyes were still closed, but they moved beneath her tender lids. He rolled up one of his sleeves and used a fang to slice open his wrist.
Blood dripped onto Cressa's lips. The drops slowed as the wound on his wrist quickly healed.
"Drink, Cressa. It's the only way to heal. The hospital is too far away."
It wasn't enough blood. Devon opened a second slash, this time placing his wrist to Cressa's mouth. "Cressa, you have to drink. You won't survive without it. You need to heal.”
As the blood pooled on her lips, she reflexively stuck out a tongue and captured the liquid. A moment later, she licked again, then scraped her teeth over her lip, sucking in all she could. The taste must have been to her liking, as he suspected it would. He sliced his wrist a third time as the precious, life-saving blood was eagerly lapped up. She cleaned her lips dry in a semi-conscious state. She'd hate herself, and most likely him, once she recovered. Hate him if she must. She'd be alive.
Devon heard the car pull onto the grass as Cressa began to wake. He held her close, an eye on her damaged leg, waiting for the right moment to move it into place as his blood healed her.
"This next part will hurt."
"My thigh."
Cressa's whispered words broke his concentration on her broken limb.
"What?"
"Check my thigh." The words were drawn out, but her increased energy showed as she squirmed under the healing blood.
