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Someone banged on the door.
Arman glanced out the window. “It’s the police, five cruisers, and a ton of guys.”
Stasio lifted Levka from the worn couch and the pain nearly made Levka pass out.
“It’s now or never,” Ruric warned.
Something slammed into the door.
“Now!” Levka commanded.
Chapter 2
The door to the club house banged open and police shouted warnings.
Arman carried Levka out the back office window and into the night sky, flying, invisible to the world. Levka chastised himself for not reacting quickly enough when the burly gang leader had fired the gun, but stopping the quick succession of bullets was all he had really had time for. Sure, he told himself, he could have dodged them, but the bullets would have hit the girl, and she could have died.
Taking a ragged and painful breath, he realized he and his friends could have traveled the distance to Fort Lauderdale in half the time, invisible to vampires and mortals alike, if it wasn’t for his blood loss. Telepathically communicating their plans to each other, they agreed to stay overnight at a bed and breakfast in Atlanta, Georgia, while Stasio raided the nearest blood bank.
Hours later, Levka sat on the mattress of their new accommodations, a canopy bed that looked similar to one he’d had in the fifteenth century, robin’s egg blue curtains draped around the frame to keep out the bitter cold on winter nights.
Arman unwrapped the bandages around Levka’s chest. “You’re healing nicely, though it might be a couple of days or so before you’re fully healed.” k'12
Ruric leaned over and looked at the wounds. “Good thing we mend so quickly. If you’d been mortal, you’d never have made it. But I’d say it’ll take another four days at least. Now if we had a portable, laser surgery tool like Dr. Leonard McCoy did, we could just mend the broken rib and seal those pesky wounds right up.”
“Star Trek,” Arman said, shaking his head. “Could you live in the here and now?”
“Don’t laugh. Just think of what the future could hold. Laser surgery wasn’t even heard of when Star Trek was aired on T.V. in the 1960’s. And weapons…” Ruric swung his phantom light sabers over Levka’s head. “They’ll be better than anything they have today.”
“But will we survive them?” Arman asked. “Blades and bullets have little effect on us. They hurt and cause damage that will take a short time to heal—depending on how bad the wounds are—but what about laser weapons? I would think that could be the death of us. So watch what you wish for.” Arman replaced Levka’s soiled bandages with clean ones.
Levka gritted his teeth. The wounds still pained him, and he wondered again why he’d protected the girls. Because their screams called out to him, beseeching him to save them. That’s why.
“You don’t like the idea of the future because you’re not adventurous like Levka and me,” Ruric said to Arman. “A stick-in-the-mud.”
Ignoring the taunt, Arman didn’t respond.
If it wasn’t Arman arguing with Levka about the future, Stasio was. Levka tried to distance himself from the discussions, though on occasion the others tried to drag an opinion from him. Like now.
“What do you think, Levka?” Ruric asked.
“He doesn’t like to get into this debate.” Arman raised his dark brows. “You look like you’re still hurting, Levka.”
“Some.”
“We shouldn’t have interfered at the warehouse district,” Arman scolded again.
“What happened to the girls?” Levka’s breathing was still labored and even speaking hurt.
Ruric smiled. “He refutes the idea he cares for girls. For a hundred years, he’s denied this, since Cassandra died. Are you now interested in the fairer sex, Levka?”
“Why is it,” Levka bit out, wincing, “I can’t ask a simple question of you and get a simple answer?”
“The girls are fine,” Arman assured him, casting Ruric a sour look. “They are fine. They’re sticking close to home for now. No more partying at that raunchy club near the warehouse district, and in fact, the police are investigating the place. The public is incensed, and most want it closed down for catering to underage teens.”
“Good. And the boys?”
“One’s arm is in a cast.” Ruric eyed his faux light sabers as if inspecting them for damage. “The other is still hospitalized from his self-inflicted knife wound. The one who shot you has been charged with attempted murder for starters. Even if they don’t find your body, the girls have sworn out statements that the boy shot you four or five times. They said you collapsed, appeared dead, and blood soaked your shirt. Of course, the police figure we’re from an opposing gang and are just as rotten as those guys or we wouldn’t have gone into hiding.”
