And where was she going? He didn’t dare probe her mind to find out. If things felt to her as they did to him, the sounds in her head might cause her to run off the road. Could she feel him, too, and just not understand the sensation? Unlike his thoughts, his presence was something he couldn’t block from her.
She turned the bike onto the freeway on-ramp and headed north. The aching pit in his gut expanded, and he knew it was worry.
Then his phone rang. Santiago. The Region Commander.
And the pit stretched wider.
“Dom, how’d it go? Get it locked up with that woman?”
“A little too locked up, I’d say.”
She wove in and out of cars like a lunatic on that bike. It was the tail-end of rush hour and traffic was still heavy on the wet roadways.
“How so?” Santiago sounded apprehensive, like he was ready to get pissed off. “Wait. Are you in the car? At this hour?”
“Uh, yes.” Dom gritted his teeth, preparing himself for the inevitable verbal onslaught. “Remember when we talked last night, and I told you the woman was dying? Lips turning blue? Vital signs weakening?”
“Don’t fuckin’ tell me. Don’t you say it. I told you to just walk away.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
“And you—” Dom turned down the volume as his boss yelled.
He knew Santiago would freak out. What did he expect? Dom would be lucky not to be hauled in front if the Council. What he’d done this time was more than just a simple infraction.
Although she was five or six cars ahead of him, he could see the exposed skin on her back between her jacket and the low waistband of her jeans. Was everyone else on the road staring at the same tantalizing inch he was? White-knuckling it, he accelerated, and the Porsche surged forward.
“Listen. She was going downhill fast, and I thought she couldn’t make it. It was a small amount. Just a couple drops of my blood. She appears to be doing fine now, so it worked. But there’s a little problem.”
“More than an illegal blood transfer? What could be worse than that, Dom? What in God’s name could possibly be worse?”
Mackenzie changed lanes, spraying an arc of standing water and causing the car behind her to slam on its brakes. What the hell was she doing riding a motorcycle with these road conditions anyway? He eased up on the gas and the Porsche downshifted automatically. Seeing an opening ahead, he cranked the wheel and accelerated into the next lane.
“In addition to a sudden lack of UV sensitivity, I am— She is— We’re telepathic.” There, he said it.
“You’re what?”
“I can hear her, and she can hear me. Thank God I was able to set up a mental barrier when I realized she could hear my thoughts, but there was nothing I could do about her feeling my presence until I left.”
Santiago was uncharacteristically quiet.
“You still there?”
“You’re not shitting me, are you?”
“This isn’t a damn joke. I’d walk away right now and forget all about this mind-reading bullshit, but she’s still in danger.” That wasn’t the only reason he didn’t want to walk away, but he wasn’t about to tell Santiago about the stabbing feeling inside when he thought about leaving her. Hell, he didn’t understand it himself.
“Goddamn it. You never should’ve done it in the first place. You know better than to blood-share with a human. And now you put me in a position where I should report your actions to the Council. Then you’ll really be screwed. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Whatever. Do what you need to do. Screw them.”
“At this rate, you’re going to be stuck up here forever. I thought you wanted to get back to one of the southern field offices. Where all the Darkblood action is.”
“She would’ve died without it.”
“Humans die every day. We can’t get involved in their affairs beyond just covert protection from Darkbloods.”
“Yes, well, they don’t die because of me.” Dom jabbed the climate control button and cranked the A/C, but the cold air did little to cool him off.
