Anne Brontë Nightwalker

Chapter 49

I feel the car winding its way down into the earth. Santos mumbles under his breath and Emily is coiled beneath me.

"Where are we?" she asks Santos.

"The Biltmore. An underground tunnel. William's here. He has . . . what she needs."

"She needs blood," says Emily.

"I know." The door flies open and William is pulling me out of Emily's arms. She reluctantly lets go. He cradles me against his chest and suddenly I feel perfectly safe.

"It's okay, Anne. Hold on, love."

Love. William called me 'love.' To hear that word once before I die. He sweeps me into a great room. "She's been drained. God, she's freezing. Can she die of hypothermia?"

"Yes." It is Vander. "If it's severe enough. Follow me." My head rests against William's chest, and I hear his heart beating strong and fast. He cradles me like a child. The sound of running water rises up. I'm in a copper bathroom, expansive and softly glittering from another chandelier. A chandelier in a bathroom. "Put her in the hot water. I'll get blood."

William sets me on the edge of the tub and begins stripping off my clothes, heedless of my protestations. "Anne, now is not the time for propriety. Your clothes are soaking wet and freezing from the snow."

"I can do it," I say weakly, although I can barely sit up. Water is filling the tub, hot and steaming.

"I've seen a naked woman before." My jacket and slender tank top are pulled off and I wrap my arms around my chest, shielding myself. Since the buttons are gone, he is easily sliding my pants down, leaving me wearing only black lace panties. He picks me up and places me in the warm water. Ah, heaven. I lean my head back against the tub, drifting off. "Stay awake," he orders, shaking me roughly. His fingers press into my bones.

"So rough," I mumble, "for a gentleman."

Vander appears and I reach for a towel hanging beside the tub and pull it into the water, covering myself.

Vander looks away. "Give her this."

It is a steaming goblet of blood. William holds it to my lips as if I am a child too weak to hold a cup. "Drink, darling."

Darling.

He called me darling.

I can barely swallow but somehow manage to sip.

"Drink it down, Anne. All of it." His hand is on the back of my head, holding it up.

I obey, sucking the hot, thick fluid down and reviving with each swallow. My hands grasp the goblet like a drunk, desperate for one last swig of whiskey. Ignoring the dull throb in my wrist, I pull the goblet from William and gulp at it, oblivious to his presence.

Vander appears again. "This is what she needs. Fresh life. Take it." He hands William a plump rabbit the size of a small fox. He is the color of marbled topaz. William hesitates only a moment before cradling it in one hand. Thankfully, Vander withdraws.

Through the walls, I hear Emily's voice, high and angry, questioning Santos who, sounding cornered, barks back.

Shaking, I set the empty goblet on the side of the tub and William places it on a table with the pitcher.

"Take him quick," he says, holding out the bunny. It stares at me with warm, wide eyes.

I look at William. "I don't want you to watch . . ." My voice is small. "...and be scared away."