Phantom Shadows Part 13

Bastien groaned and did turn his head, then pressed his lips to her throat. "You should." He lifted his head, stared at her with those incredible, luminescent eyes. So bright. So beautiful. So full of desire.

Mere inches separated them.

He raised one hand, cupped her cheek, smoothed his thumb across her skin.

Melanie had never wanted a man to kiss her more.

He s.h.i.+fted, leaned closer, touched his lips to hers.

Her breath caught.

"I can feel everything you feel," he whispered.

"Is that the only reason you're kissing me?"

His head moved from side to side in a barely discernible shake. "You don't know how much I wish it were." His lips again closed on hers, firmer, hungrier.

Melanie hummed in pleasure as fire licked its way through her veins. His tongue met hers, stroked, enticed. So hot she thought she might melt onto the table.

Abruptly, he broke the contact and again braced both hands on the table, rested his forehead on her shoulder.

"We can't do this," he said gruffly. "I've made a lot of mistakes in my long life, Melanie. A lot. And, knowing me, I'll make many more. I don't want you to be one of them."

"What makes you think I'd be a mistake?" She couldn't change his mind if she didn't know his train of thought.

He straightened suddenly, shoulders stiff, eyes lowered, though not enough that she couldn't still see their glow. Bastien may do his d.a.m.nedest to appear cold and indifferent, but his eyes reflected the strong emotions that whipped through him.

"I won't do this." He spoke not another word as he finished cleaning and dressing her wound.

Melanie was impressed by the quality of his work. "You're good." She tested the dressing. "Have you studied medicine?"

"Formally, no," he answered, tossing the discarded makes.h.i.+ft bandage and other trash into the can marked hazardous waste. "But I long ago grew tired of butchering myself every time I had to remove chunks of lead, shards of gla.s.s, blades long and short, and once, a wooden stake nearly the width of your wrist. So I purchased a library full of medical textbooks that have helped me improve my first aid skills."

"Did you understand what Montrose Keegan was doing then? His research?"

"Some. In the beginning, I read all of his notes and paid close attention to his experiments. But destroying Roland and maintaining control of an army of men who were rapidly losing their grips on reality was . . ."

"A full-time job?"

"Yes. How do you feel? Do you require pain medication?"

"For this?" she scoffed. "No."

When she had first begun her training, she had been so freaking sore all over that she had walked like a century-old human. Hunched over. b.i.t.c.hing and moaning with every step she took. (The last part wasn't necessarily characteristic of an old woman. But for some reason it had helped her to complain about it.) She had taken no pain relievers for it though. Her trainers had emphasized the importance of becoming accustomed to pain so that if she ever engaged in battle, the pain of any wounds she might incur wouldn't totally freak her out.

Mission accomplished. She thought she had held her own rather well tonight.

"By the way, are the vampires you hunt usually so chatty?" she asked.

He laughed, some of the tension in his body easing. "No. Many are boastful or make scathing comments until I strike the first blow. Stuart was something of a surprise. He must be like Cliff. The madness must be progressing more slowly in him, otherwise he would have run off or stayed and fought without listening to a word we said."

"I hope he can be trusted."

"I do, too."

"I guess we'll find out in three nights. Can I go with you to meet him?"

"h.e.l.l, no! It could be a trap."

"All the more reason to have an extra set of hands-"

"Not gonna happen."

She could see he wouldn't budge. "Fine. At least call me and let me know you're on the way to meet him in case it is an ambush."

The tension in his face eased. "That I can do. Now, I'd like to go ahead and speak with Cliff before Richart returns so I'll bid you good night."

Melanie stared up at him. "I don't suppose I could talk you into kissing me good night, could I?"

She thought he would refuse. So, when he cupped her face in his large hands, ducked his head, and captured her lips in a fiery hot, tongue-tangling kiss . . .

Well, she lost the ability to think and speak coherently and could only feel.

His eyes blazed brightly when he raised his head. "Good night, Melanie."

He was through the door before she could find her voice.

Melanie was still thinking about that kiss three nights later while she was supposed to be focusing on the results of Joe's latest MRI. Though the lab boasted no windows, she knew by the clock that the sun had just set. Bastien would be rising and preparing for the night's hunt.

Was he still thinking about the kiss, too? Did he regret it? Because she hadn't seen or spoken to him since.

"h.e.l.lo." As though her thoughts had conjured him, he spoke behind her.

Breath catching, she whipped around. "Hi." His black cargo pants, long-sleeved T-s.h.i.+rt, and coat were clean and outlined his tall, handsome form to perfection. Beside him, Richart nodded to her, then disappeared.

Neither she nor Bastien spoke for a long moment as his gaze roved her like a pair of hands.

"So," she said when he made no move to give her a h.e.l.lo kiss, "tonight's the night, huh? You're meeting with Stuart later?"

He nodded. "I thought I'd come see Cliff first."

Cliff. Not her. She would've been more disappointed if his eyes weren't glowing faintly with desire.

"Of course." Melanie slid off her stool and led Bastien not to Cliff 's apartment, but to her office. Swiping the key card in her pocket, she typed in her personal security code, waited for the beep, and opened the door. "Just a minute." Grabbing the white lab coat draped over her office chair, she slid her right arm into the appropriate sleeve.

Bastien stepped up behind her, took the coat, and held it for her while she donned it. His hands lingered on her shoulders.

"That isn't fair," she whispered, heart racing. He could feel her every emotion, while she remained in the dark.

"I missed you, too," he admitted. "And want nothing more than to pull you into my arms and see if you taste as good as I remember."

Smiling, she turned around.

His normally somber expression was as tender as Richart's was when Richart spoke with his girlfriend. He brushed her cheek with his fingers. "Unfortunately, the matter I need to discuss with Cliff is one of some urgency."

"I understand." Heartened by his admission, she crossed to a cabinet, keyed it open, and removed three syringes filled with the sedative. When she turned toward the door, she found Bastien frowning at her. "After what happened with Vince, I always keep some on me when I'm with Cliff or Joe in case one should have a psychotic break. I don't want to see either of them brought under control with multiple gunshot wounds."

"Have you had to use them?"

She hesitated. "Once."

His eyes flared. "When?"

"Last week. On Joe. He-"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She didn't want to say, but thought he deserved the truth. "He was so ashamed afterward, Bastien. And he didn't hurt me. He tried to grab one of the guards and . . . I was afraid you might . . ."

"Do to him what I did to Vince?"

"Yes."

His lips tightened.

Well . . . he had asked. Melanie strode past him and led the way to Cliff 's apartment. Cliff was sunk in the cus.h.i.+ons of a black leather sofa, feet propped on the coffee table, reading a science fiction novel when they entered.

Melanie smiled at the guard outside the door as she closed it behind them.

"Did you two want privacy?" she asked belatedly.

Bastien shook his head. "I didn't really want to talk to Cliff."

"Nice to see you, too," Cliff said sunnily as he rose and joined them.

"I don't understand."

"I wanted to talk to you," Bastien explained, "and knew we would not be overheard in here."

Melanie frowned. If Bastien were about to go into some long-winded explanation of why he didn't want her to hit on him anymore . . .

Her thoughts halted. Wait. Had she been hitting on him? She had never been the aggressor in a relations.h.i.+p before.

And there was that word again: Relations.h.i.+p.

"What's up?" she asked as casually as she could.

"I sensed you lied and wanted to know why," Bastien said.

Cliff 's gaze swung back and forth between them as he eyed them with interest.

"When?"

"At the meeting. When you said you had no antidote to the tranquilizer."

Oh c.r.a.p. "What makes you think I lied?" she bluffed.

"I was touching you and felt your guilt."

d.a.m.n it! "You know, that's really annoying."

"Tell me about it," Cliff quipped.

Bastien shot him a quick glare and once more met Melanie's gaze. "Have you found a way to counteract the drug?"

She opened her mouth to respond.

Bastien reached out and touched her face. "Have you?"

c.r.a.p! He'd know if she lied.

"The fact that you hesitate tells me you have. Why are you keeping it from the immortals?"

She sighed. "You're an immortal, too, Bastien. The faster you come to grips with that-"

"What? The faster they'll all welcome me into the fold and love me like a brother? Not going to happen. Please answer my questions."

Cliff cleared his throat. "She thinks she's found an antidote, but is afraid to test it on anyone because it might be too stressful on their heart. Make it beat fast enough to stop it or something like that."

Melanie growled. "I told you that in confidence!"

"I know. But if this thing works, it will help Bastien."

Bastien lowered his hand, brus.h.i.+ng her arm and hip on the way down. "Tell me."

She sighed. "It's a stimulant. One so strong I wouldn't use it on a comatose elephant."

"Sounds like it's just what we need. What's the problem?"

Melanie thought that was fairly obvious. "If you were undead like the vampire mythology suggests, I wouldn't worry. But you aren't. Your heart beats. The virus infecting you can heal a lot of damage, but it requires the circulation of blood to do so. If this antidote, this stimulant, is strong enough that-like the tranquilizer-the virus can't counteract it, then instead of just waking you from the tranquilizer, it could cause ventricular fibrillation. Your heart could begin to beat so fast that it would stop beating and quiver instead, no longer circulating the blood through your body and your brain."

Cliff looked at Bastien. "I tried to get her to test it on me. h.e.l.l, I'm already brain damaged, so I figured I didn't have much to lose. But she wouldn't."

Bastien popped Cliff on the back of the head.

"Ow! What the h.e.l.l?"

"You're here to prevent or at least slow down the mental deterioration, not speed it up."