Samson's Lovely Mortal
Page 97
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But she didn’t want to acknowledge who he was. Because if she did, her whole world would collapse. The person who’d pushed her out of the way of the motorcycle, trying to save her, was now impaled on the gate, seemingly lifeless.
Delilah tried to move, but her feet froze firmly in place when the biker came toward her, as if somebody was keeping her in place by invisible strings. She tried to lift one foot in front of the other, but couldn’t. Nothing would move. She was paralyzed.
Something caught her attention and made her snap her head to her right. That’s when she saw them: several men in dark clothes rushing toward the scene. That’s when she realized she had no chance. It was over. They were coming for her. They would kill her, just the way the motorcyclist had killed her rescuer.
Delilah looked back at the biker who suddenly turned away from her and sprinted in the opposite direction, away from the men. What?
“Delilah?” she heard another familiar voice. A second later, Amaury stood next to her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, dazed. Suddenly her muscles moved again, and she almost collapsed. Amaury caught her.
“Samson?” Her head tilted to the direction of the iron gate. She didn’t want to hear the answer. She watched in horror as two of the men brought him down from the spikes and laid him on the ground. A slight movement caught her eye. Had he moved by himself?
“Samson!”
Delilah tried to run toward the man they’d laid on the pavement. Samson. A strong hand pulled her back.
“No,” Amaury said. “You don’t want to see him like that.”
She yanked her arm out of his grip. “He’s hurt because of me!”
She ran to him, dropped down next to him. Samson’s body lay slack on the ground, blood pumping from several large wounds. So much blood! But to her surprise, she didn’t feel the usual queasiness in her stomach that normally befell her when she saw blood.
Delilah looked at his face. It was smeared with blood. But his eyes were open.
“Samson.” She stoked his cheek. Her eyes filled with tears at pain displayed on his face. She’d never seen anybody in this much agony, this much physical pain.
In the background she heard Amaury give commands, but all she saw was Samson, the man from whom she’d tried to run away. Why? She couldn’t remember.
“Somebody help him! We need to get him to a doctor,” Delilah called out to Amaury. Cold fear gripped her as he gave her a grave look.
“A donor is on the way.”
She didn’t understand. “A donor?”
Samson tried to speak, but his voice was a mere gurgle. Delilah bent closer to him, trying to soothe him. But she didn’t know what to do. She had no first-aid skills, and even if she did, would they even work on a vampire? She was helpless.
“Don’t try to speak. We’ll get you help. Everything will be alright, please, just hold on,” she encouraged him, knowing her words were a lie, ringing hollow in her ears.
Samson moved his head from side to side.
“No!” she screamed, understanding what he meant. “Amaury, tell me what to do!”
Amaury was at her side. “His injuries are too extensive. He knows it. I’m sorry, but he’ll die if he doesn’t get human blood immediately.”
“Then get an ambulance, and get him a transfusion.” She suddenly remembered the vending machine at Dr. Drake’s practice. “Can’t you get some bottled blood somewhere?”
“Bottled blood won’t work, not this time. His injuries are too grave. He needs blood coming directly from a human’s vein. He needs the life force of a human to help him regenerate.”
“I’ll give him mine.” Without hesitation Delilah pushed the sleeve of her sweater up
“No …” Samson’s voice was weak, but determined. His eyes cast a pleading look into Amaury’s direction.
“He won’t let you,” Amaury explained.
Delilah gave him a surprised look then shook her head. For once she didn’t give a damn what anybody did or did not want her to do. She would not sit by idly and let him die.
“I don’t care. He’ll take my blood.”
“I can’t let you do that, Delilah. Samson forbids it.”
Tears flowed from her eyes and ran down her cheeks as she looked back at Samson. “I won’t let you die.”
It looked as if he tried a smile, but his face distorted in pain instead.
She put her wrist to his mouth. “Bite!” she ordered with fierce determination.
But he didn’t bite. Instead, he turned his head away from her wrist.
Delilah tried to move, but her feet froze firmly in place when the biker came toward her, as if somebody was keeping her in place by invisible strings. She tried to lift one foot in front of the other, but couldn’t. Nothing would move. She was paralyzed.
Something caught her attention and made her snap her head to her right. That’s when she saw them: several men in dark clothes rushing toward the scene. That’s when she realized she had no chance. It was over. They were coming for her. They would kill her, just the way the motorcyclist had killed her rescuer.
Delilah looked back at the biker who suddenly turned away from her and sprinted in the opposite direction, away from the men. What?
“Delilah?” she heard another familiar voice. A second later, Amaury stood next to her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, dazed. Suddenly her muscles moved again, and she almost collapsed. Amaury caught her.
“Samson?” Her head tilted to the direction of the iron gate. She didn’t want to hear the answer. She watched in horror as two of the men brought him down from the spikes and laid him on the ground. A slight movement caught her eye. Had he moved by himself?
“Samson!”
Delilah tried to run toward the man they’d laid on the pavement. Samson. A strong hand pulled her back.
“No,” Amaury said. “You don’t want to see him like that.”
She yanked her arm out of his grip. “He’s hurt because of me!”
She ran to him, dropped down next to him. Samson’s body lay slack on the ground, blood pumping from several large wounds. So much blood! But to her surprise, she didn’t feel the usual queasiness in her stomach that normally befell her when she saw blood.
Delilah looked at his face. It was smeared with blood. But his eyes were open.
“Samson.” She stoked his cheek. Her eyes filled with tears at pain displayed on his face. She’d never seen anybody in this much agony, this much physical pain.
In the background she heard Amaury give commands, but all she saw was Samson, the man from whom she’d tried to run away. Why? She couldn’t remember.
“Somebody help him! We need to get him to a doctor,” Delilah called out to Amaury. Cold fear gripped her as he gave her a grave look.
“A donor is on the way.”
She didn’t understand. “A donor?”
Samson tried to speak, but his voice was a mere gurgle. Delilah bent closer to him, trying to soothe him. But she didn’t know what to do. She had no first-aid skills, and even if she did, would they even work on a vampire? She was helpless.
“Don’t try to speak. We’ll get you help. Everything will be alright, please, just hold on,” she encouraged him, knowing her words were a lie, ringing hollow in her ears.
Samson moved his head from side to side.
“No!” she screamed, understanding what he meant. “Amaury, tell me what to do!”
Amaury was at her side. “His injuries are too extensive. He knows it. I’m sorry, but he’ll die if he doesn’t get human blood immediately.”
“Then get an ambulance, and get him a transfusion.” She suddenly remembered the vending machine at Dr. Drake’s practice. “Can’t you get some bottled blood somewhere?”
“Bottled blood won’t work, not this time. His injuries are too grave. He needs blood coming directly from a human’s vein. He needs the life force of a human to help him regenerate.”
“I’ll give him mine.” Without hesitation Delilah pushed the sleeve of her sweater up
“No …” Samson’s voice was weak, but determined. His eyes cast a pleading look into Amaury’s direction.
“He won’t let you,” Amaury explained.
Delilah gave him a surprised look then shook her head. For once she didn’t give a damn what anybody did or did not want her to do. She would not sit by idly and let him die.
“I don’t care. He’ll take my blood.”
“I can’t let you do that, Delilah. Samson forbids it.”
Tears flowed from her eyes and ran down her cheeks as she looked back at Samson. “I won’t let you die.”
It looked as if he tried a smile, but his face distorted in pain instead.
She put her wrist to his mouth. “Bite!” she ordered with fierce determination.
But he didn’t bite. Instead, he turned his head away from her wrist.
