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"No, I think it would frighten him too much to wake up in the midst of a vampire coven," Judah answered frankly and then asked. “I’d like to book a room here and allow him to get used to me before taking him to coven grounds and the chateau.”
"Anything you need is yours," Henrik responded without pause. "Take one of the larger suites on the fourth floor."
“Thank you, sir.” Judah was overwhelmed by their kindness and support.
“No problem.”
The doctor finished, and apart from the visible injuries, he also reported that the young man was seriously underweight and showed signs of previous abuse. The information was hard to hear, and Judah felt himself reacting as the anger surged to the surface. "Whoever laid hands on him will never do so again." He stated through gritted teeth he had waited too long for this little one to come to him, and nothing and no one would ever touch him in anger again.
"He's here now, and you will keep him safe," Sam assured, and they were the words he needed to hear, allowing him to rein in his baser instincts and control his anger. He had nowhere to exorcize the fury he was feeling on his beloved's behalf, given he knew so little about him. "The time will come when you will retaliate and get revenge for what he has gone through, but for now, he needs you calm, and he needs you completely present."
"Yes, and I will give him what he needs," Judah responded and took a deep breath, internalizing the scent of his beloved, and allowed it to settle his anger and frustration.
The doctor gave Judah more bandages and antiseptic and suggested that he get the young man to eat when he wakes up. With that, Judah thanked everyone present, picked his beloved up into his arms once again, and headed to the fourth floor.
He got a few awkward stares from the staff, but no one questioned why he was carrying a man through the lobby. Sam gave him the passcode and the number of the suite on the fourth floor. He was anxious to finally have the man alone, safe, and secure in a room that he could easily guard.
The suite was large, with a king bed in the primary bedroom and a twin in an adjacent room, along with a seating area and a small kitchen. It would serve them and their needs until Judah could arrange to bring Nash to the Coven. He laid him on the king's bed and removed his boots and the heavy coat he was wearing. He was wearing only a thin cotton t-shirt, and Judah's heart tightened at the sight of his ribs showing through and the frailty of his body.
Judah was very careful moving him and getting him comfortable beneath the thick covers of the plush bed. Once he was tucked in and set for the night, he stepped out of the room and called Master Cabot.
CHAPTER THREE
Nash's memory was foggy when he woke up lying in the middle of a large opulent bed in a room he had no memory of entering. He was still dressed, but his shoes and coat were missing. His eyes were heavy, so he closed them and just relaxed for a minute longer. He felt no danger or urgency, so wherever he was, it wasn't a bad place. It had the aura of a hotel room with many layers of living and emotions, but none were dominant or oppressive.
"You're in a suite on the fourth floor of the Indigo Hotel in Eastport." The voice was soft yet deep and authoritative, but not in a bad way. Whoever they were, they were seated right next to the bed, and Nash wondered idly how long they'd sat there watching him. Nash cracked open one eye and looked over at the man seated there.
He was sitting right next to the bed and was holding Nash's hand. He hadn't noticed at first, but now that he was becoming fully awake, he could feel the strength and calm in the man's touch. It was as if he were sharing these with Nash, giving him his strength and his calm; he could feel it building in his heart and in his mind.
Nash tried to read him like he did everyone, but he couldn't touch this man's mind. He knew he was paranormal, but he couldn't decipher what he was. There was a block that never existed before stopping him from getting too close to the man's mind.
"I'm a vampire." He said as if knowing what Nash was searching for. "My name is Judah Helm, and I belong to the Mission Coven under the leadership of Master Emmanuel Cabot." Nash turned to regard him, fulling, taking in his eyes. First, they looked sharp and focused and also war-weary. He was not a young man, although he looked no more than thirty or thirty-five. Nash sensed a lot of life attached to this man.
"My name is Nash Rhodes." He didn't want to say any more than that, even though there was something in him pushing to be transparent with this imposing figure of a man. He was a soldier of some sort, which was obvious by his manners and his size and the way he seemed to take in everything with a glance.
"Who are you running from Nash?" He wanted to pull his hand away and shut down, but he also wanted to tell him everything to unload and ask him to please make it right. Judah, what a nice name, old and wise, and it fit him wholly. "You can trust me. Look into your heart, and you'll know that you can trust me."
Nash didn't trust anyone, and there wasn't anyone ever who didn't try to use him in some way. Even his mother set him up as a curiosity in order to get money and sympathy. After she died in a car accident, it was his stepfather Arthur who continued the practice but added the tent show or freak show as Nash described it. No one had his interests at heart, and now this man, a stranger, asks Nash to trust him.
“Why am I here? Why didn’t you call the police?”
"You were drunk, injured, and scared. It was decided that you were not a danger, and you left an I.O.U. for the liquor you drank." The corner of Judah's mouth raised slightly. It wasn't a smile, but it was close.
“It was also obvious that you were running from someone or something. We didn’t want to further complicate your life with the police, so I brought you up here to sober up and to have a chance to explain yourself.” Judah fell silent and held Nash with those piercing dark eyes that demanded he speak. Nash tried to look away, but his gaze came right back to the handsome, stoic man by his bed.
"I can't read you. Why can't I read you?" Nash said without realizing he was outing himself, but then Judah said something unexpected.
"I can't read you either. It has to do with our connection. I'll explain it later."
“You know about me?”
“I know you were part of that tent show and that you were billed as a psychic medium and healer.” Nash felt his stomach tighten at the mention of the tent show.
"Just a medium, not a healer. Arthur added that to make the show more like the old-time tent show and to fleece as many people as possible. I never claimed to be a healer, and I never healed anyone at the show." Nash wanted him to know that although he was part of the scam, he wasn't perpetrating the scam. "Arthur would fake the healing with plants he put in the audience. It was all theater, and Arthur ran that aspect of the show."
"What was your part of the show?" It could have sounded accusatory, but when Judah said the judgment was not there, it sounded more curious. Nash found he did not take his usual offense at being questioned about his gift.
"I am a medium I connect people with loved ones who have passed or people they wish to speak with. I'm not a hundred percent, but things usually play out to the benefit of the attendee." Nash tried to be as vague as possible, still not comfortable sharing too much even with this very compelling man.
