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“Yes. I don’t know the details,” the woman said, “but Marek’s hurt really badly.”
“But he’s alive?”
“Yes.” The woman looked at her in a strange way before she tilted her head as if hearing something. “They’re almost here. Do you want to see him? You don’t have to. Julian said you might not want to.”
“I want to see him.” Olivia nodded emphatically. “Where?”
“Follow me.”
Olivia hurried after the other woman, her brain a jumbled mess. How bad was bad? Bad enough he couldn’t contact her? Or he didn’t want her to know. She wouldn’t put it past him to hide all this from her.
He was alive. That’s good, right?
But alive could mean a lot of things. Betsy was alive. Papa had been kept alive by a respirator and feeding tubes before Mama decided to pull the plug. She tried to replace the image of her father in his last days with Marek and simply couldn’t do it.
He was too strong. Too powerful and too full of life to be stuck in a hospital bed halfway between living and dead.
“I’m Leah, by the way,” the brunette said while they waited for the elevator. “I wish we’d met under better circumstances.”
Olivia fought to speak past the lump in her throat. “I’m Olivia. Thank you for coming to get me.”
The elevator opened, and they stepped inside. “You’re welcome. I know I’d wish to know if I were you, even if Julian disagrees.”
Olivia grunted, her foot tapping with impatience. “You said they’re almost here?”
“Yes.” Leah studied her from head to toe, her expression softening. “No matter how terrible he looks, remember, he’ll heal.”
Olivia nodded, though her innards might stay in a tight knot of stress forever. She was out before the elevator door fully opened, sprinting toward the main entrance, oblivious to the vampires who glanced at her askance.
A black van screeched to a stop before the building as she reached the sliding doors, Leah a step behind. Her heart hammered against her ribs in wild terror, her body feeling like it was on the verge of collapse. Dents and scratches covered the van. Paint had chipped off in large patches around the back. The bottom half was dirt brown, as if it had survived a fight with mud pits. Jagged glass was all that remained of the front passenger window.
Let him be okay. Please let him be okay.
The back door groaned and popped open. A copper-haired vampire exited, looking grim as death. He, like the van, had seen better days. Other than his clean face, the rest of him looked like he’d joined the van in the mud bath.
A flicker of surprise before he composed himself. “You must be Marek’s mate,” he said. “I’m Rowan.”
“Where is he?” she asked, her tone sharper than she’d intended. Could Rowan tell she was holding on to sanity by a thin thread? “I need to see him.”
Rowan nodded. “Give me a sec.”
Olivia jolted as a car door slammed shut. Another vampire, this one bald and dark-skinned, appeared beside her. She would’ve shied away from his cold-assessing gaze, but nothing was moving her from this spot until she confirmed Marek’s status.
Rowan bent and reached into the car’s dark interior with a grunt. She heard something like clothes shifting before Rowan straightened, dragging a body out. When he tilted the body to lift it up, Olivia’s world stopped.
Marek. Unconscious. His head lolled to the side on Rowan’s shoulder. His skin, his torn clothes, were caked in dirt and grime and dried blood. The second vampire went to Marek’s other side and swung Marek’s arm—covered in angry red blisters—across his shoulder so that he and Rowan held up Marek between them.
Olivia’s eyes dropped lower. She slapped a hand over her mouth as a horrified cry escaped her. Leah’s gasp matched her own.
“Where’s his leg?” she asked.
Marek’s right leg was missing from his knee down. The jeans’ torn edges were black with blood. Bile rose in her throat at the sight of the bloodied and messy stump.
“Explosion,” Rowan said curtly. Olivia moved out of the way as they headed toward the lobby. “He’ll regrow it.”
“Is that why he’s unconscious?”
“Yes. His body is using all its energy to heal him,” the bald vampire said. “I’m Darren.”
