Page 39 of Bullets and Blood (Hunting Hearts #1)

Chapter Thirty-Three

There was only one thing worse than being shot, and that was being aware of someone digging around for the bullet and not being able to tell them they were off by about two centimeters to the right. Nix managed a groan.

He had no idea where he was, only that he was cold, it was dark, and he wasn’t in the boot of a car, which was a win as far as he was concerned.

“Got it,” an unfamiliar male voice said.

The relief when the hand and the bullet were pulled out of Nix’s gut made him gasp, and he was able to draw in a full breath of air. He was still cold, and hot blood was sluicing over his skin. His fangs were down, and he was shaking.

Shock. Now the silver was out, his body could process the damage.

He was going to bleed out if his body didn’t start healing. He blinked as the room got lighter. It wasn’t dark; his eyes had been shut. He tried to talk again. This time, it was less of a moan and more of a strangled cry that he imagined roadkill might make in its final moments.

These were not his final moments. Vampires didn’t die easy.

He turned his head as his vision sharpened, trying to work out if he was getting helped or if Lance’s mother was coming at him with the gardening shears. He twitched his fingers making sure they were still all there, then did the same with his toes.

All attached.

Where was Lance? He lifted his hand to try and stem the bleeding in his gut.

“Lie still,” the strange man said.

Nix sniffed. He didn’t know him. Didn’t trust him. Didn’t know where he was or where Lance was. “Nuhhh.”

“The bullets are out, and you’re getting IV blood. I’m stitching the ruptured blood vessel to slow the bleeding, and I don’t want your grubby hands getting in the way. You’ll feel better faster if you eat.”

Despite his fangs being down, Nix wasn’t sure he could eat anything. How much stomach did he have left? He turned his head away. There was tugging in his gut, which he assumed was the man stitching up something that was leaking pretty badly.

“On the menu is a delicious unblooded vampire who needs to lose six pints to be turned.” The man leaned over and shone a light in Nix’s eyes. “You were further gone than I thought. Can you see?”

“Mmm.” When the light wasn’t being shone in his eyes.

“Great. Can you manage a bite? Running out of time to turn him.”

“Lansh?” Why wasn’t his tongue working properly? He tried to lift his hand again, but it flopped at his side. He was too weak to do anything but try not to die.

“Is going to be fine,” the man said in what was probably meant to be in a nice soothing doctor voice.

“Reid?”

“You need to eat. You lost a lot of blood, and your body was well on its way to shutting down and going dormant.”

Nix lifted his head, which seemed to weigh the same as a large SUV. “Are you Reid?” His words were slurred like he’d been on a bender and then been shot and run over. He was never getting shot again.

“Yes.” The man put a bandage over the wound, sealing the sticky edges to undamaged skin.

He relaxed. “I can bite.”

As long as he didn’t have to move. His stomach was on fire as his insides started healing.

Skin would need to grow over the wound he could’ve stuck his fist into.

He was sure all kinds of essential bits were shredded.

If he’d been human, he’d be dead. Instead, he was just in a twisting, burning agony that pushed his pain threshold to the point where he wished he was unconscious.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. People walked into the room, and something was wheeled in. He smelled Lance, his skin and blood. A smile formed, and he opened his eyes. Next to him on a hospital bed, Lance was on his side, pale and asleep. His arm was bleeding freely.

His brain put together the bits like a child trying to mash jigsaw pieces together to make them fit. They’d taken bullets out of Lance, and he was hurt. Lance was the unblooded he was supposed to feed on.

He wouldn’t be his lover’s death. “No.”

The doctor, or the man acting as a doctor, wiped a finger through Lance’s blood and then wiped it over Nix’s lips. “We don’t have more spare blood for you, and you need to eat.”

Nix tried not to lick his lips, but his body betrayed him.

He knew Lance’s taste, and he was delicious.

That little bit more than human. But in his mind, he saw his own death repeated.

Felt the blood being dragged out of him until his heart almost stopped, his mother timing it to the last delicate beat before bringing him back.

“Who will turn him?” Without the silver, his body was waking up and hurting in too many places. He didn’t want to die, but he felt like a half-crushed bug curling up on itself.

“I will.” A woman Nix hadn’t even realized was in the room spoke. She was old, her age had started to show in her hair and face. If not for her fangs, he wouldn’t have believed she was vampire. He’d never seen an old vampire, only knew it could happen. “I am the Reid matriarch.”

She leaned over the bed and stared him in the eye.

Nix had the sensation that he was slipping and falling and that he couldn’t quite catch himself. He saw his death again before managing to get up and slam the door to his mind closed. The effort left him panting like he’d run several blocks. Was he that weak, or was she that strong?

She smiled as though amused. “I’m sorry you didn’t get a choice when you were blooded. But he wanted this. He made this deal. If you don’t eat, you will take longer to heal, but you will. And when you are better, we will talk, and you will let me into your head.”

Like hell.

Her smile widened as though he’d spoken aloud. He was reasonably sure he hadn’t.

She lowered her voice and moved in closer. “Or if you don’t like what is on offer, I can return you to the Orlans. They are upset several of their men were arrested by the police. They are blaming both of you. You’ve created a fair bit of work for me. Remind me why I should care about your life?”

Nix swallowed, aware that she was inches from his artery and it wouldn’t take much to kill him. Breathing hurt. If he ate, the pain would leave faster. “You shouldn’t. I told Lance not to.”

“But I have. And I know you are very good at following orders, so drink up.”

Lance’s limp arm was brought to his lips. His pulse was sluggish from blood loss. Nix turned his head away even though his fangs ached to sink into Lance’s flesh. “I can’t go back to who I was. If that’s what you want, you should’ve let me die.”

Her finger ruffled his hair like he was a child. “I wouldn’t trust you with a water pistol, Hadley. Eat .”

Resisting the command and his own hunger became too great. He licked Lance’s wrist, his skin was warm, and the blood beneath called to him.

It didn’t matter how much he drank so he could heal, Lance needed to be drained. He lifted his hand to hold Lance’s even though his lover wouldn’t remember or care. This was different to his own blooding. Lance wanted this. If he were blooded, he’d stop aging and they’d have a chance.

Lance would become a Reid by blood.

The Orlans would hate Lance for the ultimate betrayal.

Hate him more.

Nix pressed his teeth into the buttery soft skin, not stopping until he sliced open the artery. Blood spilled into his mouth, but not fast enough. He sucked on the bite, then made it bigger, tearing it open until the blood poured fast enough that he could drink his fill.

His stomach burned like a beast was clawing its way out as organs repaired themselves. The more he drank, the faster it happened and the more it hurt. He wanted to stop, afraid he’d kill Lance, but couldn’t. He’d never been so hungry.

The blood slowed, Lance’s heartbeat just a whisper. And he knew he’d done it, killed his lover. His lips were blue, and his skin white. Nix reached out with a steady hand to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

Lance was rolled onto his back, his arm flopped over the side of the bed as though he were truly dead.

And Nix couldn’t breathe. He sat up, ignoring the pain that rippled through his damaged body.

There was nothing holding him together except a thin bandage already stained with blood.

He held Lance’s hand and watched as the Reid woman bit her own wrist deeply and let her crimson blood pour into Lance’s open mouth.

Nothing happened.

Shouldn’t he be gasping and drinking and choking?

Nix squeezed Lance’s hand. “Come on.”

“Give him time. It can take a while,” the doctor said.

It had felt instantaneous when it happened to him. One minute, the pain of dying and struggling to breathe and move, then the hunger and guzzling of blood as his mother gave him new life.

Lance gave a gurgle then coughed, then he started swallowing the blood like it was the beer he loved so much. But it was only when his fingers closed around Nix’s that Nix lay down. He didn’t let go, he lay on his side and watched as the color returned to Lance’s face.

It wasn’t over yet, but neither of them was going to die today.