From the Shadows (Hunters #1)

Chapter 9

“Shay, we need a medic, now!”

Shay rushed for the door, panic gripping his heart. “What’s going on?”

He rounded the corner and found Diego, covered in blood, being laid on the floor by Ranna and Borne.

“Diego!” he cried as he rushed over to him. “What happened?”

“We need a medic,” Ranna snarled. “ Now , Shay!”

“Doctor Oliver is on his way,” Shay told her, finding it difficult to breathe. “Ms. Donnelly called when she lost contact with Diego. He should be here in a moment. Now, what the hell happened?”

Borne gave Shay what he knew was a condensed—and sanitized—version of the story. Shay stared down at Diego, his heart pounding.

“He killed them?”

“You should have seen him,” Borne said, the admiration in his voice plain. “He was a juggernaut. Flashing through the shadows as a mist, then reforming behind the vampires. He stopped only long enough to tear off… I mean, dispatch a vampire before he was on to the next one. Ranna and I couldn’t keep up with him. I’ve never seen anything move that fast. When the last vampire fell, he stood up, his eyes unfocused, and then he just collapsed.”

“What about the people?” Shay asked, knowing he didn’t really want to hear the answer.

“They killed them. Employees, guests, people visiting the fucking restaurant. They had guards on the door so no one could get out. When I was scouting, I saw a young mother running for the exit. They took her and the baby down before I could do anything.”

Bile churned in Shay’s stomach. “Were there any survivors?”

“No one we could find,” Ranna answered. “There were….” She glanced at Borne, who gave a shake of his head. “Never mind.”

Shay knew they were protecting him, and goddamn it, he was pissed. Not because of that, but the fact that he appreciated it. He’d never be a part of this team if they had to keep coddling him like Jeremy.

“Speak your mind, Ranna.” He steeled himself for what she was about to say.

“There were over two hundred victims throughout the hotel. They’d even gotten up to the guest floors. They didn’t seem interested in feeding, just in causing deaths.”

The bile churned in Shay’s stomach, but dinner didn’t make a reappearance, for which he was grateful. He was about to say something when the door opened and an older man stepped into the foyer. Shay recognized him from the photo in the dossier he’d been given by Ms. Donnelly.

“Dr. Oliver, thank you for coming.”

He rushed to Diego’ side and dropped to his knees. Shay knew the doctor was a descendant of the centaur, but not a pureblood. According to his file, he had a bit of unicorn blood in his family line somewhere, which augmented his healing talents. Unfortunately, it also wreaked havoc with his ability to shift, so he stayed as a human most of the time.

“What did the idiot do this time?” he demanded.

Apparently the two of them had history. Shay gave him the information he’d gotten from Ranna, and a sneer marred the doctor’s somewhat handsome face .

“You moron!” he snarled at Diego. He turned to Shay. “Do you have the blood packs Empatia sent you?”

“Yeah, one sec.” Shay rushed to the kitchen. He glanced up the stairs, grateful Jeremy was asleep. No way did he want the kid to see Diego like this. He grabbed the package, marked “For Diego’s Use Only” and hustled back to where they were huddled around Diego. The doctor yanked open the strip that held the box together, reached in and pulled out several of the bags, then held one to Diego’s mouth. A moment later, Diego’s nostrils flared and his mouth opened. The doctor jammed the bag inside, and Diego’s mouth slammed shut and his throat began to work.

As they watched, Diego drained the bag, so the doctor took a fresh one and repeated the process. Before he got to the last one, Shay had gone back to the kitchen for another package, then returned with them. As he returned he called for Ms. Connelly.

Yes, Shay?

Can you please get more blood. I don’t know for sure, but I get the feeling Diego is going to need it. Probably lots of it.

Of course. I’ll take care of it right away. And Shay? Are you okay?

Was he? No, not really. Seeing Diego like that rattled him to his core. I’ll be okay. Eventually.

If you ever need to talk, my door is always open. Anytime, day or night. Okay?

Yes, ma’am.

He got back in time to see the last of the pouches being drained, then discarded. He held out the box, which the doctor ripped open and started the feeding again. Shay stood mute as Diego drank more and more blood, but still didn’t open his eyes. His heart quaked, and he wasn’t sure of the reason for it.

By the time the doctor finished, Diego had nearly drained all thirty-six of the bags they’d had stored for him. All the while, Dr. Oliver was muttering some very undoctorlike things to Diego.

“Stupid fucking moron. How did you get so dumb?”

“Doctor,” Borne warned, his voice dark and crackling. “Regardless of your feelings, he is your patient.”

Dr. Oliver’s head snapped up and he pinned Borne with a harsh glare. “You think I don’t know that? I would be telling any of my patients how stupid they were if they pushed themselves like that. After I heard this idiot had been starving himself, this was the worst thing he could do.”

Shay was lost. “I don’t understand.”

Dark gray eyes glared at him keenly. “Who are you?”

“Shay! I run the house,” he snapped. “I’m responsible for everyone here. Now tell me what you mean!”

That sharp gaze darted back to Diego. “It means he’s an idiot, just like I said.”

“Shay is human, doctor. He doesn’t understand, so please enlighten him.”

“Human?” He looked from Diego to Shay. “I thought Diego hated humans.”

“It was Shay who got the blood for Diego.”

“Oh, brilliant. Thank you for looking after this idiot.” He leaned in close and sniffed Diego, then drew back and directed his attention to Shay. “Vampires use energy, just like humans. Only instead of food similar to what you eat, they replace it with blood. Somehow, through whatever means he employed, Diego’s store was already nearly depleted. What he did tonight? He exhausted every last bit by pulling this stunt. He brought himself to the brink of death. The bastard has one foot in the grave, and he seems determined to jump in headfirst.”

It made no sense to Shay. “But he drank those bags of blood. I watched him and took the empties out.”

Dr. Oliver sucked in a breath, which Shay took to mean he was frustrated by the questioning. “Tell me something, Shay. If you’ve been starving yourself for three centuries, do you really think twelve bags of potato chips are going to give back everything you’ve lost? They might make you feel better in the short term, but that’s it. That isn’t how it works, especially for vampires. It could take Diego years, if not longer, to regain everything, and that’s only if he stuck to a strict regimen. What he’s done? It would be like an Olympic-level athlete depriving themselves of good, clean food and workouts for five years, then trying to run a marathon and come in first. Diego expended everything he’s taken in, any little bit he had left. When he came to see me, I told him he needed to take it easy, but of course the idiot never listens.”

“I…. I didn’t know that was a thing. It wasn’t in any of my paperwork.”

“Not something vampires like to talk about. Their abilities directly correlate to their energy stores. Normally it takes a long time to use up what one feeding gives you, but Diego has been running on empty for so long, his body was consuming itself to keep up. Each time he faded into the shadows, it drew from his stores of energy. But this little stunt? It’s taken nearly everything, and now he’s going to pay the price for it.”

“But you haven’t even examined him,” Ranna insisted, her voice tight, her grip on Diego’s left hand punishing. “How can you be sure?”

Oliver sighed and lifted Diego’s right arm above his head. A thick vein, a washed out cyan in color, ran the length of his arm, going downward, where it disappeared below his belt. “This is Diego’s life in one viewing. That vein? You shouldn’t even be able to see it. Think of it as a barometer of sorts. If Diego was healthy, you wouldn’t notice it against the flesh around it. This shows how close he came to dying tonight. In a normal vampire, one who has full energy, it would be similar in color to his skin, all healthy. As he uses energy, it drains, going first to red, then to dark blue, and finally to this washed-out cyan.” He clucked his tongue. “How he kept the hunger under control all this time is nothing short of a miracle. This? He’s lucky he had backup or he wouldn’t be here. Even if you only killed a few vampires, that’s what saved his life.”

Die? Diego couldn’t die. He was immortal. Wasn’t he?

Dr. Oliver glanced up and must have seen something in Shay’s expression. “Vampires can die through many means, not all of them physical. If a vampire runs themselves dry, they will die. That’s what Diego’s done. He’s a car whose tank has been hovering just above empty for far too long. Now his engine is without gas, and he’s stopped running. ”

Shay peered at Diego’s face. It was paler than normal, and that was saying something. “What can we do?”

“Empatia—Ms. Connelly—told me she’s sending more blood, but I’ll be honest. I don’t know if an entire truckload will be enough.”

“What? Why?”

Another sigh. Deeper than the one before, but more resigned than anything else. “A healthy vampire can easily subsist off the bagged stuff if they feed regularly. The problem is the nutrients in human blood degrade quickly. A vampire who’s sick will receive even less nutrition from the substandard stuff. Diego could have consumed a thousand bags, and I doubt it would put a dent in getting him back to healthy. Oh, he’s going to feel like he’s better, but he isn’t. His body has starved for too long. His only option would be fresh blood, and for that, we have to line up donors who are willing to let him drink from them until he’s recovered. And I don’t know if we have enough people on the list to allow for that.”

Rage at Diego’s stupidity, at what he’d gone through, and that he had no idea how to help bubbled up inside Shay. “And how do we do that? Huh? Tell me, how do we get him to take blood when he’s unconscious?” he snapped.

Oliver peered up at Shay. “He needs someone to give him blood now. Our blood,” he said, pointing to himself, Borne and Ranna, “is toxic to him and would do far more harm than good. Your blood?”

Shay startled. They were asking him to let Diego drink from him. Of course, he’d thought about it, but now that it was actually happening? Did it matter? He was under Shay’s care, and if he required something, Shay would do whatever was necessary in order to give it to him.

“How much will you need?” he asked, his decision the only one he could make.

“We can only take a pint safely. You won’t even notice any effects.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Under normal circumstances, we’d hook the two of you up and transfer it from you to him, but he’s horribly weakened now and needs it immediately. I would like to open a vein and have you drip the blood into his mouth until he awakens. Then we can see about getting others to donate as well.” Dr. Oliver blew out a breath. “I’m going to be honest. I don’t know if even this will help him. Diego might be too far gone to save.”

No. Jeremy would be crushed, and Shay would do whatever he had to in order to protect him, plus he actually liked Diego. Even when he was being a butthead, he was fun to needle. But after his sessions with Ms. Connelly, Diego smiled more. He warmed up to Shay, and would take the time to sit and talk. He’d even walked in on Shay quilting one night and stood there for the longest time, his head cocked, before finally asking his question.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a snake quilt for Jeremy. I figure I’ll put it on his bed under the heat lamp. That way he can roll up in it.”

“Why?”

Shay looked up at him, amused at the way his forehead wrinkled like he was deep in thought. Or maybe just confused.

“To be nice? He’s been working so hard on practicing his shifts that I thought it would be a reward for his exceptional work.” He folded the deep, rich purple cloth in his lap. “Or do you think it’s stupid?”

Diego’s eyes widened. “What? No, not stupid at all. It’s incredibly thoughtful and better than the rest of us have done.” He hummed as his gaze flicked over the scraps that Shay was using. All manner of snakes, each different. “Plus, what you have? It’s… beautiful.”

And a weird warmth thrummed through Shay at Diego’s words. He unfolded the quilt and started working again. “Thanks.”

If he thought the conversation was over, he was wrong. Diego grabbed a chair and slid it over to where Shay was working, then sat down, leaned forward, watching intently. “How’d you learn to do that?”

“My mom used to quilt. She made one for me of some of my favorite Pokémon that was on my bed until Gran said it wasn’t right for a boy to like the things and got rid of it. Lemme tell you, after my parents died, it was one of the few good memories I had of them, and I hated that old woman. Anyway, when I saw my mom doing it, I was instantly enthralled watching her take these scrap pieces of cloth and turning them into something beautiful. She found me watching and asked if I wanted to learn. I said yes, so she started teaching me. I was like eight, and it was something the two of us did together for a few years. It’s how I wind down at the end of the night. Take a bath with some nice bubbles. After I get out, I pour myself a cup of chamomile-mint tea, then sit here for an hour or so and let the tensions seep out of me.”

“That’s amazing. I never would have figured something like that would be so….”

“What?”

“Gorgeous. You are doing an amazing job, and I know that Jerm is going to be nuts over it.” He peered up. “I’d best get going. I have a report to file.” He stood and reached out, sliding a hand around Shay’s neck. “Thank you for being here, Shay. I’m glad you came.”

Shay could feel the coolness of Diego’s skin as he massaged the muscles. He relished it. Heat slid through him once more, wrapping around the heart he thought Mick had crushed when he left him for dead. Funny how it’d made a resounding comeback. Of course he’d noticed Diego. How could he not? The man was sinfully sexy with his wavy dark hair and those fucking bedroom eyes of his. Diego was the epitome of Shay’s teen fantasies, and he couldn’t tear his gaze from Diego when he was around.

But Shay loved this job and he wouldn’t lose it, even for what probably would amount to a night of unbridled passion with the sexy-as-fuck vampire.

“Shay? Can we do that?” Dr. Oliver asked, sounding desperate.

The question jerked Shay out of his reverie. “Yeah, of course. Whatever we need to do.”

“I’ve reached out to Ms. Connelly. She’s in the process of setting up donors. Mr. Biggs, the boss, is willing to pay people whatever it takes to get them to line up.”

“Diego won’t be happy about this,” Borne muttered. “He told me he appreciates the bagged stuff, but he doesn’t want to take it from living humans.”

“Well, he’ll have to deal!” Shay snapped, irritated over the fact that… what? They were going to find people for Diego to feed from? That Diego might not be happy he had to feed from others? He had no idea why he was angry, but he was. “He has a son waiting on him, and if he’s going to let something like this take him away from Jeremy, he can fuck all the way off!”

“I agree with Shay,” Ranna said. “Diego is, for better or worse, a vampire. It’s kind of in the job description that he will be drinking blood one way or another.”

Borne held his hands up. “I’m just saying.”

“At least he’ll be alive to be pissed off,” Dr. Oliver muttered.

And the comment sobered Shay. Diego couldn’t die. He had Jeremy to worry about and… okay, fine. Although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, Shay enjoyed it when Diego cared for him too.

Jeremy’s words came back to him. “You like him.”

And God help him, Shay did.