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In the back of her mind, Tess registered the fact that aside from her attacker's impossible state of consciousness, he had also experienced a miraculous recovery of his injuries. Beneath the grime and smudged ash that marred his skin, all of his sundry scrapes and lacerations were healed. His black fatigues were still torn and bloodstained from the wound in his leg, but he wasn't bleeding anymore. Not from the likely gunshot wound in his abdomen either. Through the shredded fabric of his black shirt, Tess saw only smooth, bunching muscle and flawless olive skin.
Was this whole thing some kind of sick Halloween joke?
She didn't think so, and she knew better than to let her guard down with this guy for so much as a second.
"My boyfriend knows I'm here. He's probably already on his way. He might even have called the cops--"
"You have a mark on your hand."
"W-what?"
His voice had sounded accusatory, and now he pointed to her, indicating her right hand, which was trembling up near her throat.
"You're a Breedmate. As of tonight, you are mine."
His lip curled at the corner as he said it, like he found the words not at all to his taste. Tess didn't particularly like the sound of them either. She backed up several paces, feeling the blood rush out of her head as he tracked her every move.
"Look, I don't know what's going on here. I don't know what happened to you tonight, or how you ended up in my clinic. I sure don't know how it is that you could be standing in front of me right now, after I gave you enough tranq to knock ten men cold--"
"I am not a man, Tess. I am something... else."
She might have scoffed at that if he hadn't sounded so deadly serious. So deadly calm.
He was crazy.
Right. Of course he was.
Off the chain, raving lunatic, psycho crazy.
That was the only explanation she could come up with, staring in wide-eyed dread as he closed the space between them, the sheer power and size of him forcing her toward the wall at her back.
"You saved me, Tess. I didn't give you a choice, but your blood healed me." Tess shook her head. "I didn't heal you. I'm not even sure your wounds were real. Maybe you thought they were, but--"
"They were real," he said, a faint, rolling accent in his deep voice. "Without your blood, they might have killed me. But in drinking from you, I've done something to you. Something that I can't take back."
"Oh, my God." Tess felt sick, swamped with a sudden wave of nausea. "Are you talking about HIV? Please don't tell me you have AIDS... "
"Those are human diseases," he said dismissively. "I am immune to them. And so are you, Tess."
Somehow, that wacko declaration didn't give her a lot of hope. "Stop using my name. Stop acting like you know anything about me--"
"I don't expect this is easy for you to understand. I'm trying to explain as gently as I can. I owe you that much now. You see, you are a Breedmate, Tess. That's something very special to my kind."
"Your kind?" she asked, growing weary of his game. "Okay, I give up. Just what is your kind?"
"I am a warrior. One of the Breed."
"Right, a warrior. And breed, as in... what kind of breed?"
For a long moment, he just looked at her, like he was weighing his answer. "As in vampire, Tess."
Holy Moses on a pogo stick. He was beyond crazy.
Sane people did not go around pretending to be bloodsucking fiends--or worse, actually acting out their perverted fantasies, like this guy had with her.
Except there remained the fact that Tess's neck bore no trace of injury, even though she was certain-- really, bone-chillingly sure--that he had chomped into her throat with razor-sharp fangs and swallowed quite a bit of her blood.
And then there was the incredible fact that he was standing here, walking and talking with no effect whatsoever of the tranquilizer that should have laid him low well into next week.
