Page 23 of Bonded Through Bite

When I take a step forward, Thea intercepts me with a hand on my arm. Not caring about my glare, she pushes me into a corner. “They talk like that because she might hear them,” she whispers. “She’s been in a coma before and afterward said that if she ever has to hear wailing and moaning again when she can’t tell them to shut up, she will bar them from her hospital room.”

I read her earnest expression and turn my gaze back to Samantha’s family. Not callousness—comfort. The only comfort they can offer her right now.

A low growl breaks free from my throat. I hate every second when Samantha’s beautiful blue eyes stay closed. I need to see them open and sparkling again.

Thea sways on her feet. “Time’s out,” she whispers, just as one of the many monitors attached to Samantha begins to beep.

The sun goes down and paints the sky bloody red as I slowly drive up to the mansion. I’m itching to check on Samantha, even though I know Thea would have called me immediately if there had been any changes.

For the last three months, there haven’t been any.

Thea froze the time in Samantha’s hospital room for a couple of seconds, barely giving me time to bite her and push my venom into her bloodstream.

Doubt gnaws at my insides every second. Were we too late?

What if I didn’t push enough venom into her?

Maybe the venom didn’t have enough time to spread.

I should have been able to feel a connection between us from the moment she began her transformation. There’s been nothing. Not then, not now. I can’t sense her.

It’s like she’s truly dead, except her body is not changing. She’s not decaying; she’s not transforming. I’ve been keeping vigil over her all this time, only leaving her side to feed and keep up appearances when I absolutely have to.

Like now, when Patricia came to visit the Lair. The four longest days and nights of my life, staying far away from Samantha. And I couldn’t let anything slip in front of my maker. Thank fuck Santiago gave me a heads-up so I could get to the city in time.

Only the witch knows about Samantha’s existence, so we decided my country home was the most logical and secure place to hide her away. It’s built on a magical ley line and layered with spells and enchantments. Thea’s been keeping watch over Samantha every time I’ve been away.

Who knew I could work together with a witch if given proper motivation?

Usually, I love the old building and the gardens around it. Now the long, winding driveway makes me gnash my teeth and the walls feel like they are caving in on me. Even the gardens have lost some of their luster.

Maybe I should let the gardener return. And the butler. At least the witch has been keeping the house free of dust. I want my home in tiptop shape when Samantha wakes.

She has to wake up. There’s no other option.

“How is she?” Thea asks over the phone.

I gaze down at Samantha’s pale face and smooth my hand over her hair.

“Still nothing,” I murmur.

“Bloody moons,” the witch curses.

“Did you find anything in your research?”

“No. Not a single documented case of a successful transformation that took this long.” She bites back a sob and clears her throat. “But Sammie will pull through. She’s too stubborn not to.”

“It’s been six months,” I snarl.

“I know, vamp. No need to bite my head off,” she says, trying to pull out her old sass, but I know she’s almost as worried as I am.

“Keep looking,” I say and hang up.

Looking around the room, I make sure everything is in order. It’s cool and dark here. The sheets are fresh and Samantha’s hair is brushed. The cellar is the most heavily protected part of the mansion. Underground, no windows, reinforced doors.

The bedrooms down here are not small, but nothing like upstairs. Still, it made sense to move her here. I have to let in the staff at some point.

And Patricia has been sniffing around. Or feeling diabolical is more like it. Her favorite entertainment is to blow up Santiago’s or my life. If she can mess with both of us at the same time, even better.