He'd turned her to save her life. Sarita didn't know how she felt about that. She wasn't keen on the whole blood thing. On the other hand, she was even less keen on the whole death thing, so blood won that round, she supposed.
Domitian had also told her that Thorne had taken out four winged hybrids alone, and then had taken an immortal woman named Basha up in the air to use tranquilizer darts on the gilled hybrids. Sarita had much less ambivalence about that. She was glad Thorne was all right and had come through it safely, and while she was sorry for the hybrids who had died, including young Colton who had apparently slipped away during the battle, she was even sorrier for the ones who had fought against the immortals and survived, because their future looked pretty bleak from what she could tell.
Right now they were locked up in cells in the labs where all the others who were now free, had been kept. Rather ironic in her opinion. But there was talk of their being judged by the council. The problem was, no one seemed to be sure which council just yet. Apparently, the South American Council, who had been none too pleased with Domitian's uncle trampling all over their turf, was now delaying talking to him about what to do about the island and its inhabitants. It meant Lucian and a good portion of his people were stuck here until a decision was made. Something he apparently wasn't too pleased about, according to Domitian.
And then there was the something Sarita wasn't too pleased about . . . Dr. Dressler had escaped capture. After Thorne had taken out the hybrids in the air and in the water, the Rogue Hunters had attacked the island. Dressler's security men had put up a bit of a fight and a couple of immortals had been knocked out by darts. But when the locked-up immortals and hybrids had been freed to join the fray, the security men had soon given up. The overriding consensus had been that Dressler didn't pay well enough for them to risk their lives.
It didn't matter, though--it was too late. Dressler had apparently already made his escape. Despite repeated questioning, no one seemed to know where El Doctor might be until hours had been wasted searching every inch of the island. Only then did MacNeil "suddenly recall" that Dressler had a boat in a hidden cave on the side of the island behind the house.
By that time, the boat was long gone, of course, as was Dressler, Asherah, and an immortal Asherah had apparently gone to fetch after assisting in Sarita's escape. The immortal was Davies, the man Sarita had first seen cut in half. And no one was sadder than her to hear that news. The man had surely suffered enough. What more could Dressler visit on him? No one knew, but Lucian had sent hunters out searching for the trio, hoping to capture Dressler and save Davies and Asherah.
Speaking of Asherah, Sarita was a bit confused when it came to how she felt about the woman. She'd seemed all right in the end. She'd even saved Sarita's life. Well, actually she'd stabbed Sarita and damned near killed her, but then she'd helped her to escape. However, there was something troubling Sarita about that whole escape thing. Domitian had told her that Asherah claimed Dressler had sent her out to talk to the guard in the gatehouse when she'd gone out to help Domitian. But Asherah had told her a different story. She'd claimed that she'd seen Domitian on the camera, distracted Dressler until he was safely past, and then made an excuse to leave and lead him safely to the building. They were two different stories, and Sarita had been trained to look for inconsistencies in people's stories. It was a clear sign of the unreliability of a witness and sometimes a sign of an attempt to cover up a crime. Sarita was a little concerned about what Asherah might have been covering up.
Pushing that thought from her mind, she snuggled closer against Domitian and sighed with satisfaction. He was such a good man. While he and her grandmother had sat at her bedside as she went through the turn, he'd apparently explained what he and now Sarita were to her abuela. Her grandmother had taken it better than Sarita had expected, although she did now wear three crosses and pray a lot for their souls. Other than that, she seemed fine, though.
Sarita stilled as Domitian shifted, his hand sliding to rest over her breast through the sheet. When he stopped there, his breathing deep, she decided he was still asleep and closed her eyes with another smile. As he'd promised, now that the danger was over, he was wooing her as he felt she wanted. She had only been awake a week, but he'd already brought her flowers and candy, and had even taken her on two actual dates . . . with her grandmother accompanying them.
It seemed Grandmother thought they needed a chaperone. For the first date he'd taken them to dinner at one of his restaurants. Sarita had actually enjoyed herself. Talking to Domitian was easy, and the three of them had laughed a lot as they ate. Sarita suspected she wouldn't have experienced that if they'd been by themselves. They wouldn't have lasted through the appetizers before they were rushing out of the restaurant to find the nearest safe spot to have sex and pass out. Instead, they'd stayed for hours, chatting and laughing before flying back to the island in the helicopter. After a chaste kiss under her grandmother's watchful eye, Domitian had left them at the cottage and departed for the big house where he, along with Lucian and some of the hunters, were staying until the situation on the island was resolved.
Their second date had been dancing, an overnight stay at his mainland home, and a trip to visit the graves of Sarita's father and grandfather the next day. It seemed Grandmother had mentioned to Domitian that dancing was the one thing she'd missed most besides her husband and son while a prisoner on the island. Domitian had decided that was where he would take Sarita on her second date . . . with Grandmother as chaperone. It seemed he wasn't above ingratiating himself with the old lady to win Sarita. But she hadn't minded. She'd actually enjoyed it. Her grandmother's presence had forced them to behave and Domitian had spent the night dancing with first one of them and then the other.
Her grandmother had truly enjoyed herself and so had Sarita. But, dear God, dancing with Domitian had been sweet torture. His body pressing against hers, his hands on her, his breath on her ear. He'd driven her wild and there hadn't been a darned thing she could do about it with her grandmother there. Not even once they'd got to Domitian's home afterward.
At first Sarita had been too stunned at the decor to think about her need for Domitian. She'd peered around at the potted plants, the overstuffed light-colored furniture, and the beautiful hardwood floors and had thought this was the home she'd always dreamt of. The one she'd planned to make for herself one day, and here Domitian had created it for himself. It had made her wonder about those nanos. Maybe they really knew their business. Domitian certainly seemed to suit her in a lot of ways.
Sarita heaved a little sigh and peered at the wall across from her as her mind whirled with the chaos that had claimed it for days as she considered all her options and all her wants and needs. She hadn't just been dancing and visiting graves this past week, she'd spent a lot of time helping her grandmother and Mrs. Dressler as they assisted the hybrids on the island. The two women had made it their mission to make sure that as many of them as possible could have normal lives.
For some that wasn't feasible. Like Thorne, their differences were too noticeable and would make their having a life approaching anything near normal unattainable. But for others it was possible, and the two women were determined to make it happen for those they could. It turned out they had the finances to do it too. It seemed the money Dressler had so happily been spending was his wife's. Elizabeth Salter Dressler had inherited a fortune from her grandparents before marrying Dressler, and later had inherited her parents' even more substantial fortune.
Now that Dressler was out of the picture, Elizabeth was taking back her power and her money. She'd reverted to her maiden name and had all her money moved so that El Doctor couldn't access it. She'd then placed nearly half of it in an account for Thorne, and intended to use the rest to help the hybrids.
For Sarita just a week of helping these people had been more satisfying than a year as a police constable, and with not even 1 percent of the stress so far . . . And that was part of her problem and the reaso
n for the chaos in her mind. When she'd first woken up to find she'd been turned, Sarita had felt a little lost and so had instinctively turned to her old life for comfort. She'd determined she would stay for a week or so and then return to the safety and comfort of her home and job in Canada. Domitian had already said when they were on the little island that he would enjoy living closer to his sister and would follow her and woo her as she deserved, so she hadn't even considered him in the decision. But she had asked her grandmother to return and live with her, and her grandmother had jumped at the chance and seemed really excited.
But that was part of the problem. Now that she was adjusting to the idea of being an immortal, Sarita found she had less interest in returning to Canada and her job. She found helping the hybrids satisfying, and she liked spending lazy afternoon siestas in bed with Domitian. But she didn't want to disappoint her grandmother either, or make her stay on an island that had been a prison to her for fifty years.
A soft snore sounded behind her and she grinned to herself, acknowledging that the truth was, now that he was wooing her as he felt she deserved, Sarita didn't really need it. Something had shifted in her. Or perhaps it was just that everything was blending together to make her realize how much they suited each other, from his home being her dream home to how his sense of humor matched hers, how their taste in foods seemed to be always lining up, and how they had danced together as smoothly as if they'd been doing it their whole lives. While she knew she couldn't possibly love him already, she felt in her bones that she belonged with Domitian.
A soft tap at the door sounded and Sarita slipped quickly out of bed, tugging her clothes back into order as she rushed to answer it. That was one benefit of life mate sex--it all happened so fast and furious they rarely managed to get all of their clothes off, she thought wryly as she reached the door.
"Hi," Eshe said softly when Sarita opened the door.
"Hi," Sarita responded with surprise. She hadn't seen the woman since they'd been locked in the cells. Eshe, along with the other hunters had been out searching for Dressler, Asherah, and Davies morning, noon, and night since they'd disappeared.
"Got a minute?" Eshe asked.
"Of course." Sarita slipped into the hall, easing the door silently closed and then followed Eshe up the hall, her mind whirling with curiosity as she tried to figure out what this was all about.
"It's beautiful here," Eshe commented a few minutes later as she led Sarita out into the gardens. "Hard to imagine the nightmare Dressler made it into for everyone when you look at such beauty."
"Yeah," Sarita agreed, peering out over the well-tended gardens.
"I wanted to talk to you about Domitian," Eshe said, leading her along a path with tall flowers growing on either side of it.
"Oh?" Sarita asked, suddenly wary.
"You know you love him, right?" she asked.
Sarita swallowed and glanced away, her brow furrowing. "I've only known him for--"
"Cut the crap," Eshe said not ungently, and Sarita blinked and turned back to her with surprise. Smiling, Eshe said, "Kiddo, I've been alive for a long time and--"
"How long?" Sarita asked with curiosity. Honestly, none of these people looked over thirty and most of them looked more like twenty-five. Yet Domitian was fricking ancient.
"I was born in 1446 b.c.," Eshe said matter-of-factly.
"Did people exist back then?" Sarita asked, trying to wrap her mind around that number. Was there any history back then? She didn't remember studying anything that old. Wasn't that the ice age or something?
"The last ice age was eleven or twelve thousand years ago," Eshe said dryly, obviously reading her mind.
"Right . . . and you were only born three thousand, five hundred years ago . . . give or take a couple decades," Sarita added sarcastically. "God!"
Eshe laughed at her expression and said, "Look. I just wanted to talk to you before I go because Victor was saying Domitian is worrying that you aren't letting him in and aren't acknowledging your feelings for him."
"I don't know what my feelings are," Sarita said with frustration. "They're all a jumble and I can't think straight when he's around. I mean I know I want him. He's like crack to my crack ho, but--" She shook her head helplessly.
"Hmm," Eshe murmured. "And yet you were willing to die for him in the cells."
"That was so Dressler wouldn't know how to become immortal," Sarita argued.
"No. Actually, what you said, and what I read from your mind at the time," she added firmly, "was that you would rather die than allow Domitian to live knowing he'd given Dressler the information he needed to become immortal, and feeling guilty for any deaths and torture that followed. That's dying for Domitian, so he wouldn't suffer guilt."
Sarita stared at her.
"What? You gonna deny it?" she asked and then said simply, "You love him, Sarita. This isn't earth-shattering news to anyone but you. As immortals we know that we'll love a life mate if we're fortunate enough to find them. It's a simple fact. And down deep you know you love him. It's just the mores and traditions of your mortal life that are hanging you up. According to them you can't love him yet and should wait to accept or admit it until a suitable period of time has passed."
Turning, she started walking again and added, "And you're free to do that. But I hope you don't, kiddo, because Domitian has waited a long time for you already and he deserves to be happy. As do you. And it pains me to know you're struggling with this when it's all so simple."
Sarita followed, thinking it really was simple. She had wanted to die that day to save Domitian a lifetime, a very long lifetime, of guilt. And she would die for him now to save his life if necessary. He was a special man, so patient and kind and passionate. She'd never met anyone like him. Never dated anyone she respected as much or cared as much about. She did love him, Sarita acknowledged, whether she'd known him as long as society would deem long enough or not.
"Anyway," Eshe said after a moment. "I just wanted to say that before we leave. And to again welcome you to the family, because you're a part of it now whether you admit it today or next year."
Sarita stopped walking and frowned. "Leave? I thought you were all staying until Dressler was found?"
"That boat has sailed, unfortunately," she said flatly. "We've got information suggesting that he's left the country. Lucian's arranging for a couple of Rogue Hunters to stay on the island in case he tries to come back here. They'll be working with a couple of Rogue Hunters the South American Council is assigning to the island and the island will be under both councils' purview, at least until Dressler is caught. But in the meantime, the rest of us are going home."
Breathing out a sigh, she smiled wryly and added, "I was looking forward to seeing my husband, Armand, but apparently that's not going to happen for a while yet."
"No?" Sarita asked curiously.
Eshe shook her head. "Some rogues took advantage of our absence and have caused a good deal of trouble back home while so many of us were away. We have a couple of messes to clean up and some fires to help put out." She shrugged. "Having been a mortal cop, you know how it is. While the cop's away, the perps will play, right?"
Sarita smiled faintly. She'd never heard that one. She'd have to remember to tell it to Jackson.
"Listen, that's something else I wanted to say," Eshe added now. "If you ever get tired of playing cops and robbers with the mortal miscreants, we have some real rotten rogues that need putting down. And every job saves lives. There's no dragging cats out of trees or slapping the wrists of shoplifters. Every rogue is a really bad dude who is killing or controlling mortals. And I already talked to Mirabeau about it. She liked you too and said you could ride with us. Just a thought," she added. "No pressure. And the job will still be there ten, twenty, or even a hundred years down the road if you'd rather stay and help out the hybrids for a bit."
"Did you read that out of my mind?" Sarita asked with amusement.
"Didn't have to," Eshe assured her. "You glow wh
en you're helping them, just like you do when Domitian is around. It's obvious it makes you happy."
They had walked full circle and were approaching the house again, and Sarita frowned when she saw her abuela rushing toward them.
"Looks like I'm not the only one who wants to talk to you today," Eshe said, eyeing her grandmother with interest. "I'll leave you two to it."
"Eshe?" Sarita said as the woman started away. When the older immortal turned back she said, "Thank you."
Eshe smiled. "Don't tell the boys we had this heart to heart. They think I'm a hard-ass and I like it that way."
"Oh please," Sarita said with amusement. "You are a hard ass."
"Yeah." She grinned. "But so are you. That's why Mirabeau and I like you. See you around, kiddo."
"Later," Sarita said with a smile and then watched as the two women passed each other. Eshe smiled at her grandmother easily, and Maria Reyes smiled nervously back, eyeing her a little leerily until she was well past her and had reached Sarita.
"She is one of those vampires, no?" her grandmother asked in a whisper, her hand going to the crosses at her throat as she glanced back at Eshe. She was wearing only two today, Sarita noticed. That was progress.
"She is an immortal, abuela," she said firmly. "Like me."
"Si. A vampire." She turned back to her and shook her head sadly. "So young and pretty to be a vampire."
"Again, not a vampire. And not so young either," Sarita said with amusement. "She's older than you."
"No," her grandmother said, turning to stare at the woman again. "No."
"Si," Sarita assured her. She almost told her Eshe's age, but decided it might give the poor woman a heart attack, so asked, "Did you want to talk to me?"
"Oh, si." Maria Reyes turned back to her and said worriedly, "Si, Chiquita, I need to talk to you."
"What is it?" Sarita asked, her smile fading. "Has something happened?"
"No," she assured her quickly and then sighed unhappily and blurted, "I want to be a part of your life, yes? But I cannot come to Canada with you, Chiquita. Elizabeth would be alone and she needs my help. These poor hybrids, so abused and imprisoned so long. They need help. And you don't need help. You have your Domitian. But they have no one, and Elizabeth has only me and Thorne and--"