At first the big man didn't do anything but pick up one of the bags and hold it over her face. After a moment, he clucked with agitation and muttered, "She's unconscious. I need to get her to--"
Leaving the comment unfinished, he set the bag back on the table, and then turned to retrieve the smallest knife from a collection in a holder on the wall.
"What are you going to do with that?" Wyatt asked when G.G. turned back with the wickedly sharp-looking paring knife.
G.G. didn't respond. He simply held his hand over Elspeth's face and sliced the end of one finger with the knife so the blood quickly bubbled to the surface.
While Wyatt gaped at him, G.G. set the knife aside, and then shifted the bleeding finger back and forth in front of Elspeth's nose a couple times. After the third pass, her mouth opened slightly on a soft moan and they were able to see her upper canines shift and slide out of her jaw, looking remarkably like fangs.
Wyatt was still struggling to accept what he'd just seen when G.G. suddenly picked up one of the bags of blood he'd collected and slapped it to her mouth. The big man waited a moment and then sighed with relief when it stuck and turned to peer at Wyatt, his eyes narrowing warily.
"How are you doing?" he asked after a pause. "Feeling a little panicky, maybe? Ready to stab me and run screaming from the room?"
"Stab you?" Wyatt asked with surprise, shocked out of his silence at the suggestion.
"Well, you're gripping that knife pretty tightly, and looking like you might want to stab someone," he pointed out dryly.
Wyatt glanced down and stared with confusion at the paring knife in his hand. He must have picked it up after G.G. set it down, though he didn't recall doing it. He was, however, gripping it like he was ready to use it, he noted. Wyatt raised his hand to set it on the table, but then hesitated, reluctant to release it. He'd been trained to respond automatically to combat situations, and the adrenaline shooting through his body was suggesting this was just such a situation.
"Hang on to the knife if it makes you feel better," G.G. suggested. "Just don't stab me with it. I don't mean you any harm, and I am mortal. It would be a shame for you to go to jail. On top of that, I don't particularly want to die."
"You're mortal?" Wyatt snatched at the words.
"Born and bred, just like you," G.G. assured him solemnly, and then smiled wryly and added, "My piercings and tattoos should tell you that. The holes would seal up and the tattoos would slough off like a bad tan if I were immortal."
"Immortal?" Wyatt glanced to Elspeth. "Is that what she is? Immortal, not a . . . vampire?" He winced even as he asked the question. What he was seeing now suggested vampire, but that was so ridiculous. There was no such thing as vampires. Right?
"Not a vampire," G.G. assured him solemnly. "Vampires are dead and cursed. Elspeth is immortal born, an entirely different beast."
"Immortal born," Wyatt murmured, noting that the bag at her mouth was quickly shrinking as if the blood was being syphoned from it. When G.G. grunted in the affirmative, he asked, "So her mother's one too? That's why Martine looks so young?"
"Yes," G.G. agreed. "They don't age past about twenty-five or thirty. That's when a human is at their peak condition. Fully grown and fully developed. After that it's all downhill. For mortals anyway."
"Is she human?" he asked at once.
"Oh, yes," G.G. assured him as he removed the now empty blood bag from Elspeth's mouth.
"How is she doing?"
Both men glanced toward the door at that question. It was the woman who had approached them outside. G.G. had called her Sofia.
"Good, I think," G.G. said, tossing aside the empty bag of blood he'd just removed and reaching for a fresh one. "Did you take care of everything out front?"
"Yes. The ambulance arrived just as I finished with the driver and witnesses. It's all handled," she announced and joined them at the table, but frowned when she saw Elspeth. "Why haven't you tied her down?"
"Tied her down?" G.G. and Wyatt asked together.
"Yes. Once she starts to heal, she'll--Shit!" They all jumped back in surprise when Elspeth suddenly sucked in a sharp breath and sat up on the prep table, her arms pinwheeling, and then she released a long, drawn-out, pain-filled shriek and started to claw at her mutilated face. It was like she was trying to tear away the abraded and cut skin, Wyatt thought as Sofia leapt forward to catch at Elspeth's hands and try to prevent her harming herself further.
"Help me!" Sofia snapped as she struggled with Elspeth.
Wyatt and G.G. hurried forward, but Elspeth was incredibly strong. She was also writhing and thrashing violently about, arms and legs flailing, body twisting. Even with the three of them, they couldn't hold her down or stop her struggles. They were all three just half lying on her, doing their best to hold her still, and then Sofia, who had been trying to restrain Elspeth's hands, suddenly went flying. Wyatt had just registered that when the giant man followed Sofia, soaring through the air to crash against the front of one of the refrigerators with a thud before dropping to the ground with a groan. The next thing Wyatt knew, Elspeth had launched herself at him.
Shouting in surprise, he fell back. She rode him to the floor, where Wyatt landed hard on his back. The wind was knocked out of him, but it could have been worse if she hadn't grabbed his head in both hands. Elspeth had saved him from what would no doubt have been a concussion, but it was just blind good luck for him. That hadn't been her intention. At least, Wyatt didn't think it was when she used her hold to turn his head to the side and bent to sink her teeth into his neck. This explained the earlier bit he'd heard about biting, he supposed as he felt her sharp fangs scrape against his throat. Unable to free himself, Wyatt closed his eyes, bracing against the coming pain as they started to pierce his skin, and then her weight and teeth were suddenly gone.
Blinking his eyes open in surprise, Wyatt glanced around to see two men dressed in black leather dragging Elspeth away from him. One was a tall, dark-haired man with golden-brown eyes. The other was blond, with piercing silver-blue eyes like Elspeth's. Both were straining to hold the woman between them and not succeeding very well. They were barely managing to hold on to her arms. She was jerking them about like they were a couple of toddlers.
"Thank Christ."
Wyatt glanced around at that relieved growl to see G.G. dragging himself to his feet with help from Sofia. The man was holding his ribs with one hand as he straightened.
"We need chains," the dark-haired man snapped, struggling to hold onto a thrashing Elspeth.
"This is a nightclub, not a bondage shop," G.G. growled.
"There are some in our SUV. Key's in my pocket," the blond said urgently. "There are padlocks there too. We'll need a couple of them."
Leaving G.G. leaning against the wall, Sofia rushed to the men, reached into the blond man's pocket, and retrieved his keys and disappeared. She moved so fast, Wyatt couldn't even track her. One minute she was there and then she became a blur of motion and was gone.
Giving his head a shake, Wyatt got to his feet. He briefly watched Elspeth struggle and writhe in the arms of the two newcomers, and then moved over to G.G.
"You okay?" he asked, looking him over quickly. He didn't see blood anywhere, but judging by the way G.G. was holding his ribs, he'd guess one or two were broken.
"Fine," G.G. sighed.
Wyatt didn't believe him, but didn't argue. Instead, he asked, "Who are these guys?"
"The blond one is Valerian. The other is Tybo," he answered through gritted teeth. "They're good guys. They work with Elspeth. They'll take care of her."
"They're with the police?" Wyatt asked with surprise. Dressed all in black as both men were, he'd been thinking mafia or motorcycle gang, not cops.
"Police," G.G. echoed and smiled wryly. "Yeah, the immortal version. They're Enforcers, or rogue hunters. They hunt rogue immortals. Criminals mortal police wouldn't be able to handle."
"Oh," Wyatt said blankly. He supposed that was a special division a
s Elspeth had told him. Probably one the mortal police didn't know about, but she hadn't exactly lied.
"What happened to her?" Tybo asked.
Wyatt glanced toward the men, and frowned when he saw that Elspeth appeared to have passed out. She was sagging in their hold as they carried her to the stainless steel table she'd escaped just moments ago.
"She was run over by a car," Wyatt said, helping G.G. when the big man started to limp toward the immortal police.
"Out front," Tybo said with a nod. "Mortimer heard about an accident on the police frequency, recognized the address, and suggested we stop in and check that it had nothing to do with The Night Club."
"She'd just left here," G.G. muttered. "I'd just finished locking the door behind them and was watching from the window when some guy pushed her in front of a car."
"Someone pushed her?" Wyatt turned on the man with surprise. He hadn't realized. One minute they'd been talking, and then she'd flown out into the road and--
"Yeah," G.G. said, his expression grim. Turning back to the men then he continued, "By the time I got the door unlocked and got out, he was gone and the car was stopped on top of Elspeth. I figured it was more important to get her inside before the ambulance came than to chase after the guy."
"You did right," Valerian assured him.
The clank of chains announced Sofia's return as she hurried to join the men around Elspeth.
"Why did she go crazy like that?" Wyatt asked as Tybo took the chains and the two men began to wrap them around Elspeth and the table.
"The healing," Sofia explained quietly. "She should have been chained down before you gave her blood. The minute it hit her system the nanos would have started the healing and . . ." She grimaced. "It's painful. The worse the injury, the more painful the healing is, and she was hurt pretty bad."
Wyatt thought that was one hell of an understatement. Elspeth was a mangled mess, basically hamburger in torn clothes. If she were human, she'd be dead for sure. Or if she were mortal, he supposed, since G.G. claimed she was still human. Hard to believe, though, after seeing her fangs and how strong she was. But Sofia had said once the blood hit her system the nanos would have started the healing. What the hell were nanos?
Before he could ask, G.G. said quietly, "Sorry. I didn't know she needed to be chained. This is my first time dealing with an injured immortal."
"Not your fault," Tybo assured him, sliding a padlock through the ends of the chain and snapping it closed. Tugging on the chain to test their handiwork, he added, "Someone should have thought to tell you things like that. With immortals for customers, we should have figured you'd run into something like this eventually. Truthfully, it's lucky you haven't encountered it before this."
"Yeah, maybe," G.G. said wryly as they watched Tybo grab a bag and slap it to Elspeth's mouth.
Turning away from Elspeth, Valerian eyed G.G. with concern. "You need a hospital."
"Nah," G.G. said with a grimace. "It's just a couple of cracked ribs. I've had them before. I'll survive. Just tape me up. It's all they'd do."
Valerian and Tybo exchanged a glance, and then Tybo pulled out a phone and turned to walk to the other end of the kitchen, punching in numbers as he went.
"What are nanos?" Wyatt asked finally and found all four people looking at him. Even Tybo paused and turned, the phone pressed to his ear.
"Mortal," Valerian grunted, his gaze narrowed on Wyatt.
Wyatt eyed him warily back, vaguely aware of a small ruffling sensation in his head.
"Yes, he's mortal. He's Elspeth's friend," G.G. said, and then added solemnly, "She couldn't read or control him."
Valerian's head went back slightly and his eyebrows rose. "Well, hell, that makes things more complicated."
"Why?" Wyatt asked sharply, and then glanced to G.G. and asked, "And what do you mean she couldn't read or control me? They can read and control us?"
"Elspeth didn't tell him a damned thing about us," Valerian said with exasperation.
G.G. shook his head, a permanent wince on his face now. "I think she only realized today while here that she couldn't control him and he was her LM."
"What is an LM?" Wyatt asked now, recalling G.G. mentioning that earlier.
The four of them glanced at each other as if each hoped one of the others might volunteer the answer.
"What the hell was Elspeth doing bringing an uninitiated mortal to The Night Club? She knows better than that," Tybo groused, slipping his phone back into his pocket as he returned to the group.
"She didn't bring him. He followed her," G.G. explained wearily, and then muttered, "I need to sit down."
Tybo and Valerian exchanged another glance and then Tybo nodded. "Let's move this conversation to your office so you can sit while we figure out what to do."
"What about Elspeth?" Wyatt asked at once, his gaze sliding to where she lay. She was still silent and unmoving, he noted, and the blood bag at her mouth was now a dehydrated and wrinkled wad of plastic.
Valerian ripped the plastic away, then slapped another bag on. Turning to them then, he shrugged. "She'll be fine."
When Wyatt scowled at him, he asked, "Do you want to know what's going on here or not?" He paused briefly and then added, "We'll leave the door open and check on her frequently."
"Fine." He sighed and moved back to G.G. to ask, "Are you okay to walk?"
G.G. arched one eyebrow. Tone dry, he asked, "Why? You planning to carry me if I'm not?"
"Hell no," Wyatt said at once. "I make it a rule never to carry cars, tanks, or giants."
A bark of startled laughter erupted from the big man. It was quickly followed by a pained wince and a groan.
"I got this," Sofia announced and stepped up to scoop the man off his feet as if he weighed little more than a toddler. When G.G. immediately roared in protest, she rolled her eyes and moved quickly toward a door at the other side of the room, muttering, "Oh, stifle it, you big baby. I'll put you down in a minute."
Realizing that the door she was headed for was closed, Wyatt rushed ahead and opened it for her, then watched with amusement as she carried the huge man in. Sofia was perhaps five-feet-four-inches and didn't look like she would weigh more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, but she was carrying the giant like he was the pipsqueak.
Shaking his head, Wyatt moved into the office and glanced around. It was a good size, with one wall painted dark brown, and the other three painted beige. The floor was hardwood. There was a large desk, a couch, a chair, and a television on one side, while several large filing cabinets, a printer/copier/fax combo, and a shredder took up part of the other side, with a small bar in the far corner. Sofia carried G.G. around the large, solid oak desk and set him in the cushioned leather chair behind it. She then moved over to the bar to pull ice out of the freezer. She dumped some in a glass and then grabbed a bottle of pop and began to pour it over the ice.
"Tahiti Treat?" Wyatt said with a grin. "Man, I love that stuff. Haven't seen it in the stores in ages, though."
"It's called Tahitian Treat now," G.G. told him.
"He orders it from the States at a ridiculous price," Sofia said dryly as she replaced the pop container and closed the refrigerator.
"Hey, I don't comment on what you drink," G.G. muttered and then added a surly, "Thank you," when she handed him his drink.
Sofia nodded and headed out of the room. "I'm going to open up."
"Thanks, Sofia," G.G. repeated, and then turned to Tybo and Valerian. "So, are one of you guys going to tape up my ribs, or what?"
"No," Tybo said at once. "Dr. Rachel's on her way to do it for you."
"What?" G.G. asked with alarm.
"I'm not going to risk being responsible for one of your ribs puncturing your lungs or heart or something," Tybo told him firmly. "I will not be known as the immortal who killed the Green Giant."
"Neither will I," Valerian added.
"Cowards," G.G. muttered.
"Rachel should be here soon. She and Sam were alre
ady downtown shopping when I called," Tybo announced as Wyatt moved back to the open door to peer out at Elspeth. She was still lying silent and unmoving on the tabletop, he noted with a frown.
"What's the matter? The bag's not empty already, is it?" Valerian asked, moving up beside him to look at Elspeth as well.
"Nearly," Wyatt said, but asked, "Why isn't she screaming and thrashing again? Isn't she healing anymore? You said that's why she reacted that way after the first bag, but she's not reacting at all now and that's her third bag."
"She will," Valerian assured him solemnly. "She just wore herself out with her first round. She'll start up again. Soon," he added darkly as they heard a soft moan. "I'm going to change out the blood bag. Tybo, why don't you start explaining about immortals to Wyatt while I do?"
"Yeah, yeah," Tybo said and then eyed Wyatt speculatively. "So . . . Elspeth hasn't told you anything at all about us?"
Wyatt shook his head and glanced out to the kitchen as Valerian tugged the empty bag from Elspeth's mouth and slapped another on.
"Great," Tybo said lightly. "So, okay, here's the deal. Our ancestors come from Olympus."
Wyatt swung around to blink at him. "Olympus?"
"Yeah, we're the children of Gods and nymphs, so we're super strong and also super sexy."
A burst of laughter slipped from G.G. that was quickly followed by a gasped curse. "Damn, Tybo, cut that out. It hurts to laugh."
"Sorry, buddy," Tybo said with a grin, and then taunted, "But if you'd let your mother turn you, you wouldn't have to worry about stuff like broken ribs. You'd already be healed."
"Oh, just shut up about that and tell him the truth," G.G. growled with irritation.
"All right. Jeez, you're turning into a grumpy sod in your old age, G.G.," Tybo accused.
"I'm thirty-six," G.G. muttered, rolling his eyes. "A damned sight younger than you. Now start again, and the truth this time."
Six
Wyatt waited patiently as Tybo gathered his thoughts. It seemed to take a while, but finally the man settled on the corner of G.G.'s desk, crossed his arms, and began.
"So, there was this doctor fellow. Kind of a mad scientist type. He wanted to find a way to heal injuries and fight illnesses such as cancer and stuff without having to perform surgeries, or administer chemo or radiation. He felt those things just caused more damage. He wanted something that worked from inside the body. Understand?"