The Renegade Hunter
Chapter Fifteen

Jo was moving before she was awake again. It was a horrible way to wake up, disorienting and scary, she decided as she opened her eyes to find herself crossing what appeared to be a motel parking lot. Her gaze slid quickly around, noting the neat walkway, the pretty plants hanging from the awning that ran along the motel, and the number six on the door she was approaching. When a hand reached past her to open the door, Jo's eyes followed it up an arm, shoulder, and neck to Ernie's face.
It seemed they'd arrived. Jo sucked in a deep breath as the door opened, trying to prepare herself for what was to come, and then her body moved forward. Her mouth was dry, and her heart was pounding with fear as she peered a bit frantically around the room she was entering. She was looking for Ernie's father, the man who would no doubt kill her as payment for Nicholas's assistance in capturing his sons. There was no man, however, just a young woman asleep on one of the two queen-sized beds in the room.
Jo heard the door close as her body came to a halt in front of the occupied bed, but couldn't see it, so looked at what she could see, the woman. The female appeared to be in her early twenties like Jo, but that was where any resemblance ended. She had short, spiky black hair, was heroin-addict thin, had a small tattoo of a bat under the outside of her left eye, and had multiple piercings in her ears, one through one eyebrow, and a ring through her nose. She wore skintight, black leather pants and a black fishnet top over a lacy black bra. She looked... interesting.
"Where's your father?" Jo asked quietly as Ernie moved into view, approaching the bed.
"Several days' drive south of here," he said shortly and then added, "We'll head out after I've caught some sleep. I've been up for two days watching the apartment. I'm too tired to start a long drive right now."
"Two days?" Jo asked with amazement. She'd thought it had been only one night, but then recalled how many times she and Nicholas had made love and that they'd passed out and slept between each and realized it could have been two days. No wonder she was starved. They'd taken breaks a couple times to eat up the rest of the pizza, and Jo had found some canned soups left behind that she'd warmed up for them at one point...
Yes, it definitely could have been two days, she thought now and then wondered about the defensive tone of Ernie's voice as he'd spoken. It was as if he thought he had to make an excuse for not heading out right away and she might think less of him for having to sleep. She had no idea why he'd care what she thought.
"I don't care," he snapped and then kicked the bed, making it shake violently. Jo presumed it was an effort to wake the girl in the bed, but if so, it failed. The girl moaned, but didn't wake up.
"Goddammit, Dee, wake up," Ernie snarled, bending over the bed to slap her violently across the face. The crack of sound in the room was loud enough that Jo winced in sympathy, but it worked. The girl woke up. She seemed sluggish and a bit out of it, however, and Jo wondered if her lack of body weight really was a result of heroin addiction. The woman Ernie had called Dee moaned in protest as she opened her eyes, a moan that died when she spotted the man bent over her.
"Ernie?" Dee sat up slowly, relief covering her face. "You were gone so long, three days, I thought you'd left me."
"I told you I'd be back," he growled with disgust. As reassurances went, Jo thought it was rather poor indeed, but then if what Ernie had said about not having any interest in sex was true, she wasn't his lover. It left Jo wondering just what this Dee was to him.
"She's dinner... and my servant," Ernie announced, obviously reading the question in her mind. He glanced to Dee. "Aren't you?"
"Yes, Ernie," she answered almost absently, her eyes full of resentment as they traveled over Jo. Her voice was bitter when she asked, "Who is she? My replacement?"
"She's for my father," Ernie said shortly. "Now get up and make yourself useful. Have you eaten since I left?"
"Yes. Three meals a day as you ordered," she said quickly, slipping her feet off the bed to get up. "And I've been taking the IV blood too. A bag a day even though you weren't here."
"Good, order something else now, I'll be hungry when I wake up and you're no good to me if you're too weak to drive after I feed."
Dee nodded and moved to the phone beside him to begin punching in numbers... which told Jo they'd been staying here long enough for the girl to memorize the number of the local delivery places, but she had other things on her mind. Turning on him with disbelief, she asked, "You have her take transfusions and then feed off of her? Why don't you just drink the bagged blood and leave her alone?"
"I don't like cold food," he said, glaring at her. "Be glad I'm not feeding on you."
"Why aren't you?" she asked at once.
"Would you give a dinged-up gift to your father?" he asked dryly.
Jo grimaced. She supposed she should be grateful, but it was hard to be grateful that he wasn't going to hurt her before he handed her over to his father to do what he would.
Ernie glanced to Dee as she placed her order. He frowned as she ordered a calzone with a side salad and then said, "Make sure it's enough for two." When the girl glanced at him in question, his eyes narrowed. "Don't question me, order it. She's eating too."
Jo glanced to him with surprise at the comment. She hadn't expected him to bother.
"Even a condemned prisoner gets a last meal," he muttered. "I'm not an ogre."
"Forgive me," Jo murmured dryly as Dee hung up the phone. "But you're hoping to buy your father's affections like a John buys a prostitute's favors by giving me to him... knowing he'll kill me. I just assumed you were a bastard."
Ernie's eyes narrowed, a growl issuing from his throat, and then he suddenly turned and grabbed Dee by the hair at the nape of her neck, yanked her head back, and sank his teeth into her throat with a violence that made Dee cry out in pain.
Jo tried to turn guiltily away, knowing the woman's unnecessary suffering was her fault for angering Ernie, but he'd taken control of her body again and she couldn't move. Her eyes wouldn't close either when she tried. He wanted her to watch what she'd brought about and she gave in with resignation, knowing it was little more than she deserved for angering him and causing it in the first place. It seemed since he didn't want to take a "dinged-up gift" to his father, Dee was going to pay for any temper she stirred in him.
Ernie removed his teeth and whirled to glare at Jo. "This time," he snarled, blood coating his teeth and rimming his mouth. "She paid for you this time. But bear in mind that my father doesn't know about his gift, and I can always drain you dry and go after Nicholas or one of the other girls to give to Father should you push me too far."
Jo's gaze slid to Dee. Ernie was still holding her head back by the hair at what appeared to be a painful angle. It left her wound exposed, and Jo swallowed as she peered at the ragged, angry-looking bite mark. In his anger, he hadn't just punctured her neck, he'd torn it somewhat, and the two wounds were seeping blood.
Ernie glanced back to Dee and released her abruptly, snapping, "Take care of your neck."
Dee stumbled a couple of steps and then caught herself and moved into the bathroom. The moment the door closed behind her, Ernie turned back to Jo, and she found herself walking to the small two-person table and chairs beside the bed. She heard a drawer open and close behind her, and when her body sat down in the chair in the corner without her input, Ernie was walking toward her, rope in hand.
"Just so you don't get any ideas about trying to escape while I sleep," he commented, moving behind her chair, and jerking her arms back painfully to tie her wrists together. "I'm afraid if you did try to escape, Dee would probably club you over the head and kill you. She doesn't like you," he confided, seeming amused.
Jo didn't have to ask how he knew that. She supposed he'd read it in Dee's thoughts, and said through gritted teeth, "She doesn't know me."
"She's jealous," he said with amusement as he jerked on the rope, tightening it painfully around her wrists. "She wants me to turn her and she's afraid you might be a threat to that."
"So tell her I'm not a threat," Jo suggested as he finished with her wrists and moved to work on her ankles, binding them together now as well.
"Why?" Ernie asked, and seemed truly surprised at the suggestion. "I'm her master. I do what I want and she has to accept that whether she likes it or not. As will you." He finished with her ankles and stood to survey her with displeasure. "Nicholas should have made you aware of your status. You are inferior. We feed on you, milking you like the cows you are. We can control you, make you do anything we want. We are faster, smarter, stronger... we are superior."
"If you're so superior, why do you run around with greasy hair and in filthy clothes?" she asked dryly.
"Because I can," he said coldly. "I do what I want."
Jo stared at him, the thought running through her mind that she was in the hands of a very dangerous, snot-nosed, spoiled, petulant, little pissant. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised at the fury that suddenly covered his face. But after a lifetime where her thoughts had always been her own and private, it was hard to remember that this was no longer true and he could read her mind. When his hands balled into fists and one raised, Jo steeled herself for the blow about to come, wondering if she would make it to Ernie's father or die here in this room. A moment passed, but no blow fell, and Jo opened her eyes warily to find the hand back at his side and relaxed. The man was even smiling.
"I'm not going to kill you," he said calmly. "I'll leave that to my father."
Jo forced the tension from her muscles and merely peered at him, thinking it really made no difference. Here now, or later at his father's hands. It was all the same. Dead was dead.
"Oh no, it's not the same," Ernie assured her solemnly, picking up on her thoughts. "My killing you would be a mercy. My father will cut you to pieces as slowly and painfully as he can. He's a no-fanger."
"You say that like I should know what it is," she said with false indifference.
"Don't you?" he asked with surprise.
Jo shook her head.
Ernie frowned, and then apparently deciding she wouldn't be sufficiently scared if she didn't know what she was in for, he explained, "No-fangers are immortals without fangs, a result of the first trials with nanos. One in three don't survive the turn and those who do... well." He smiled cruelly. "Half of them come up mad and mean and completely unfeeling. They keep mortals like the cattle they are and slice and dice them whenever they want a meal."
"And your father is one?" Jo asked slowly.
"Oh yes. He's the oldest no-fanger known to be alive." Ernie said with what sounded like pride and not a little glee, and then added, "And the older they are, the more powerful and cruel they are."
Jo considered that and then tilted her head and asked, "But you're not a no-fanger?"
"No," he muttered, some of his glee waning.
"Why not?" she asked. "If your father is no-fanger, surely you-"
"My mother was immortal."
"So if the mother is immortal and the father is no-fanger, the baby can come out immortal or no-fanger?" she asked curiously.
"The baby will always come out whatever the mother is," he said with disgust. "The father only ever passes the sperm. The blood makes the baby. If the mother's immortal, the baby's immortal, if the mother is no-fanger, the baby is no-fanger. My mother was immortal, so I was too," he muttered.
"You don't sound too happy about that," she pointed out quietly.
Ernie shrugged, but then scowled and said, "Why should I be? Most immortals are weak and softhearted like Lucian and his gang. They protect mortals rather than farm them as we should. They give us all a bad name," he added with disgust.
The bathroom door opened then and Dee came back out. Jo tried to twist in her seat to see her, but Ernie hardly glanced her way, merely turning on his heel and moving to the bed.
"Feed her when the food comes," he ordered, dropping to lie on the bed. "And make sure she doesn't get away. Wake me when night falls."
Ernie closed his eyes and completely relaxed, seeming to drop off to sleep at once, and then Dee moved into view beside Jo. The girl was looking toward Ernie, watching as his breathing became slow and steady, but Jo was looking at the girl's throat. All there was to see was a large, neat bandage covering the wound on her neck, and then the girl turned to look at her. If Ernie hadn't already told her Dee didn't like her, the look she gave Jo then would have told her so. Dee's eyes were lasers of hatred, slicing her to ribbons.
"He's mine," Dee hissed, glaring at her.
"You're welcome to him," Jo said solemnly, keeping her voice low. "In fact, if you want to untie me, I'll happily get out of here."
Dee hesitated, and Jo felt a moment's hope, and then Dee glanced to Ernie. Jo did as well, her heart sinking when she saw that his eyes were open and focused on them.
"If she escapes, you die, Dee," he said calmly, and then closed his eyes again.
Dee's breath hissed out and she scowled at Jo and then moved to the dresser, opened the top drawer, and retrieved something. It wasn't until she turned and headed back to the table that Jo saw it was a gun. She watched the other woman drop into the seat across from her and set the gun on the table. Jo stared at what to her appeared to be a very large gun barrel pointing in her direction, and then glanced to Dee and asked, "Yours?"
"Mine now," Dee said defiantly, and picked it back up to examine it briefly as she said, "We got it off a cop on the way out of Texas. He stopped us for speeding."
"You don't sound like you're from Texas," Jo said quietly.
"I'm not. I'm from here." She set the gun down again. "We were just passing through Texas on the way back to Canada."
"And the policeman you took the gun from?" Jo asked.
"He won't need it anymore," Dee said with a shrug, and then added defiantly, "He was an arrogant prick anyway. He shouldn't have insulted Ernie."
"Right," Jo said on a sigh, trying not to imagine some poor police officer stopping a car on a lonely road at night, never knowing it would be the last car he'd stop. Forcing the image away, she asked, "So how did you end up traveling through Texas with Ernie if you're from here?"
"His father took me south," she muttered.
Jo felt herself tense. Ernie's father was who she was being taken to, and it did seem smart to learn all she could about him. "Why did he take you south? What's he like?"
"He's crazy mean," Dee said quietly, beginning to rotate the gun slowly on the table. "He and a couple of his sons showed up at our farm earlier in the summer."
Jo blinked in surprise, not at the news that Ernie's father and his brothers had shown up at Dee's farm, but that she actually came from a farm. With her piercings and dress, Jo would have guessed she was a city girl.
"They came in the middle of the night, killed my father, kept cutting and feeding on my mother, sisters, and me for a couple days, and then they killed my mother and two of my sisters and took my younger sister and me and headed south. They fed on just the two of us on the journey, occasionally dragging in another person to feed on. Usually a girl. They seem to prefer girls, but then probably because they didn't always just use us to feed on. Ernie's father mostly left us alone except to bleed us, but his brothers..." She swallowed and shuddered. "They liked to do other things too."
Jo didn't need her to spell out what those other things were. Ernie had said some of his brothers weren't past the sex stage. She could figure it out. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "It must have been awful."
"It was," she said in a vulnerable voice that made her seem much younger than Jo had at first thought she was, and then she suddenly straightened and sounded much stronger as she said, "But then we got to Ernie's place."
"Where was that?" Jo asked, but Dee shrugged.
"I was pretty weak the last leg of the trip. I slept a lot when they weren't bothering me. All I know is I'm pretty sure it wasn't America anymore when we stopped. It was hot, the people all spoke gobbledy-gook, and the signs were all in Mexican or something."
"South America then, probably," Jo murmured. If that's where Ernie's father was it meant a long drive to get there. Days even. She might get an opportunity to escape, she thought, and then glanced up as Dee continued.
"Ernie was nice to me." When Jo's eyebrows rose in surprise at the suggestion, Dee scowled and said, "He was. He'd bite us, but he didn't do those other things."
Afraid the girl would get angry and shut up, Jo smoothed out her expression and nodded quickly.
Dee relaxed a little and continued, her voice grim. "When he said he was heading out on a trip, his father gave me to him 'for the road.' I think he thought Ernie would only get another meal out of me and be dumping me on the side of the road somewhere, but Ernie didn't feed on me. He fed me and got me healthy again. He took care of me and fed on others like that cop, and only once I was strong again did he start feeding on me again. I'm his now and he looks after me."
"And your sister?" Jo asked quietly.
"She died before we left," Dee said dully.
"I'm sorry," Jo repeated on a sigh. She was silent for a moment, considering what she'd learned, and then asked, "So was Ernie the only brother there who had fangs?"
Dee nodded. "The rest of them had to cut us... except Basha."
Something in Dee's voice made Jo peer at her more closely as she asked, "Basha?"
"She's like Ernie, she has fangs," Dee said, her voice sounding admiring. "She's not crazy like the rest of them. Basha's beautiful with this long, gorgeous, icy blond hair and these cold eyes... and she's powerful, icy cold and so strong... None of the boys mess with her. The second day we were there, one of them said something to anger her, and she threw him through a wall."
Jo frowned as she recognized the hero worship in the other woman's voice. "What did he say?"
"I'm not sure. They were in the next room and he suddenly came crashing through the wall and fell at my feet, and then she stepped through the hole his body left and glared down at him and said, 'Remember to watch your tongue around me or you'll be tongueless as well as fangless.' And then she stormed off." Dee sighed with very definite admiration, and then added, "Even Ernie's father listens to her. She's the one who convinced him to lie low for a while and stay out of Canada until things blew over. Ernie's father really is a cruel bastard," Dee told her, and almost managed to look pityingly on Jo. "He's going to hurt you bad when Ernie gives you to him."
Jo stared at her silently and then sat forward in her seat, ignoring the pain it sent shooting through her arms as she said a little desperately, "You could help me escape. We could both go. I know people who could keep us safe."
"Like they kept Ernie from taking you?" she asked dryly, and shook her head. "Oh no. I'm his. I'm not betraying him and giving him a reason to kill me. I want to be strong and powerful like Basha. I want to be turned, and if I'm loyal he'll turn me," she said with certainty.
Jo sat back wearily and shook her head. "He's not going to turn you, Dee. He sees us both as little more than cattle. He'll use you up for as long as it pleases him and then he will dump you at the side of the road like his father expected."
"No," she said at once, almost desperately. "He took care of me when we left his father. He cares about me."
"Yeah, that bandage on your throat and the way he's treated you since I got here show a whole lot of caring," Jo said grimly.
"He was angry. It was your fault," Dee said at once.
Jo stared at her silently, wondering why Ernie would have bothered nursing the girl back to health. She didn't think for a minute he cared for the girl, but... "Who did the driving on the way up here?"
"He did at first, but after the first couple of days when I was feeling better, he slept during the day and I drove, and then I slept at night and he drove," she said proudly. "He trusted me."
"He needed you," Jo corrected firmly. "Feeding you a couple of meals and not raping you was enough to get you to feel so grateful you took over the day driving. It cut the journey in half for him."
Dee merely glared at her.
"Why didn't he fly?" Jo asked abruptly.
"What?" Dee asked with confusion.
"Why did he drive all the way here rather than fly? He could have saved himself a lot of time," she pointed out.
"He doesn't like flying," Dee said coldly, and then added almost reluctantly, "His father and brothers teased him about that, said it was another sign of his inferiority, that a no-fanger wouldn't be afraid of flying. But they're the ones who are inferior. They don't have fangs and have to cut to feed, and Basha has fangs and she's the smartest and strongest of all of them."
Jo was silent for a minute. The girl definitely had a hang-up about this Basha woman. Sighing, she leaned forward and tried again to reason with her, "You're fooling yourself if you think he's going to turn you, Dee. You aren't going to be like Basha. You're just as dead as I am when we get back there. Once we're there, he won't need you to drive anymore and he'll hand you off to his brothers to finish what they started on the first journey down south."
"Shut up," Dee snarled, her hand tightening on the gun and raising it just as a knock sounded at the door.
"The food's here," Jo murmured, eyeing Dee warily. The girl was obviously unstable after all she'd been through, which was to be expected. Unfortunately, Jo didn't think she was going to be able to help her see that there was no future for her with Ernie. At least not before it was too late. Dee seemed to be so grateful that he'd let her live and wasn't raping her that she saw his cold, heartless treatment of her as some sort of caring... and that was going to get her killed. The question was whether Jo would be there with her when it happened... or die here in this room, she thought as Dee stared at her, the gun pointed at her chest and quavering slightly.
"The food," Jo said again, her stomach beginning to churn with tension as she considered her death might be imminent after all.
Dee cursed under her breath and stood up, slipping the gun into the waistband at the back of her leather pants as she moved to the door. She then pulled a wad of cash out of her back pocket with one hand as she opened the door with the other. The moment Dee started to open it, the door crashed open, slamming into her and knocking her backward.
Jo sucked in a quick breath as Dee tumbled back over the chair, relief like she'd never known slamming through her as Nicholas stepped into the room. He wore the clothes she'd last seen him in, but now had a long jacket over them. She understood the reason for the long coat when he pulled a crossbow from under it as he took in the scene. His gaze found her, flickered with relief, then slid to Dee sitting up on the floor next to the table, peering at him blankly, and finally to Ernie rearing up on the bed. He aimed at Ernie and pulled the trigger.
Jo never saw the arrow hit Ernie, her gaze was already swinging to Dee as she released a cry of animal pain and pulled out the gun she'd tucked in her jeans.
Jo didn't think in that moment, she merely reacted. Her ankles were bound, her wrists tied behind her back, so she did the only thing she could do. Screaming "No," she did her best imitation of a dolphin leaping out of the water and threw herself out of the chair at Dee. She soared through the air to land on the other woman-and the gun-as it went off.
The impact of the shot was like a punch, and Jo gasped for air that suddenly seemed absent. She was vaguely aware of Nicholas shouting her name and then he was there, lifting her away from Dee. He gathered her in his arms, his face panicked as he peered over her.
"Jo. Jesus, you're hit," he muttered, standing to carry her to the bed.
"Dee," she gasped anxiously, afraid the girl would shoot him in the back.
Nicholas paused to whirl back, just in time for both of them to see the girl flee the room. Nicholas growled deep in his throat as she disappeared through the still-open door, but didn't try to stop her. Instead, he turned back to continue on to the bed.
"The gun," Jo breathed as he set her down next to the prone Ernie. "She could come back."
"The gun's empty," Nicholas growled, and she supposed he'd read that information from Dee's mind.
Jo glanced down as he jerked up her shirt to get a look at her wound, and silently echoed the voluble curse that he issued. It was bad. She was no doctor, but it was real bad. The hole itself wasn't that big on this side, but blood was gushing out of it like a water hose at half pressure. That didn't seem good to her.
"Hungry?" she asked with a forced smile.
The look Nicholas turned on her should have singed her eyebrows off.
"Sorry," Jo muttered, and then closed her eyes as he turned and rushed into the bathroom. She supposed it had been a poor attempt at humor, but really, she wasn't feeling well. Actually, that was kind of an understatement. She felt horrible. It was getting harder to breathe, and she was growing weak.
"Stay with me, Jo."
She forced her eyes open at that growl to see that Nicholas had grabbed a towel from the bathroom and was pressing it down on her chest. Jo watched him, thinking that it should probably hurt, but it didn't. That probably wasn't good either, she thought a little hazily, and peered at his face. He looked frantic, but his eyes were flaming silver as they did when they made love and she mumbled, "Your mood eyes are reading horny again."
"What?" He peered at her face with confusion and then frowned at whatever he saw there. Taking one hand off her chest, he reached for her face, his eyes burning into hers as he touched her cheek and said harshly, "You have to stay with me, Jo."
"I'm here," Jo mumbled, and then opened her eyes and said, "I love you." She didn't know where that had come from. She hadn't planned on saying it, but knew it was true. She did love the big lug. He was handsome, and smart, and so built... and he had more honor in his pinky finger than most men had in their whole body. Nicholas had been born to help people, to save them, as he had saved her over and over. Jo was certain of that. She was also certain she wasn't going to be around to help him with it, which was a shame, because she really wished she could be.
Jo wished a lot of things, that she could help him solve the mystery of the past so he could stop running and settle down to enjoy life, preferably with her. She wished they could have a life together full of love and squabbles and making up. She wished she could have his babies and...
Jo closed her eyes wearily, but forced them open again to get one more look at him, because as the darkness crept up the sides of her vision, she knew she would have none of what she wished for.
"Jo?" Nicholas said anxiously when she closed her eyes again. He reached up to slap her face lightly and then shook her a bit in an effort to wake her up, but it wasn't working. Cursing, he glanced around wildly and then back to her chest wound. He had been trying to stanch the blood, but it still seeped out around his fingers, and he cursed with frustration, wishing she was immortal. The nanos would stop the bleeding at once if she had any, he thought, and then froze as his mind suddenly cleared.
He had to turn her. It was that simple. The moment the thought struck his brain, Nicholas raised his wrist to his mouth, bit in, tearing away a flap of skin, and then forced Jo's mouth open and placed his wrist over it. He watched silently as his blood gushed over her lips, instinctively lifting her head up with his other arm so that the blood would run down her throat. When the bleeding slowed and then stopped, he eased her back onto the bed and ripped open another patch of skin on the same arm. This one he let bleed into her wound until it too slowed and stopped.
Nicholas glanced to her face then, holding his breath as he waited for some sign that he hadn't been too late. He knew he should have turned her right away rather than trying to stop her bleeding, but he hadn't exactly been thinking clearly. In truth, he hadn't been thinking clearly from the moment he'd seen Ernie pass him in a car and realized it was Jo in the passenger seat beside him.
Nicholas's gaze slid to Ernie. The man was as still as death, the arrow protruding from his heart ensuring he wouldn't be getting up again. At least not until the arrow was removed. Of course, the female who had escaped was a problem that would have to be dealt with later... preferably by someone else. If he was left to deal with it, Nicholas would probably wring the little bitch's neck for shooting Jo, and he didn't care that she'd actually been aiming at him and Jo had thrown herself on the weapon.
Jo moaned, and Nicholas leaned eagerly closer, watching her face.
A second moan came from Jo as she turned her head weakly. He closed his eyes and whispered, "Thank you, God," as he realized she was turning. He hadn't been too late.
His eyes opened again on the third moan, however, and Nicholas frowned with a new worry. The turning was excruciating to both the body and mind. It was known to bring on nightmares and hallucinations so horrible that turnees could be driven mad by it. Nicholas wasn't willing to risk it. There were drugs and tricks to help her through it, and he was going to make damned sure she got them.
Standing abruptly, he glanced around the room and then back to Jo and finally to Ernie. He wanted to leave the rogue behind, but couldn't risk that the mortal girl who had shot Jo might not return, remove the arrow presently incapacitating Ernie, and help him escape. Turning, he headed out of the room, pulling the door not quite closed so that it wouldn't lock behind him. He then quickly crossed the parking lot to his van, jumped in, started it up, and moved it over to back it up to the motel room door.
Back inside the room, he took a moment to tug Jo's T-shirt back down, untie her, tie up Ernie with those ropes, and then make sure the arrow was still planted firmly in his chest. Nicholas then carted Ernie out to the van. He tossed him inside, satisfied by the thud of his body hitting the metal floor, and then hurried back inside to collect Jo as well. He started to pick her up, but paused as he noted the bloodstain on her shirt from the gunshot wound. He planned to set her in the front seat, and the bloodstain would draw more attention than he wanted to deal with at that moment.
Nicholas set her back, glanced around, and then moved to grab a leather jacket that lay over the back of one of the chairs at the table in the room. The female's, he supposed as he grabbed it up. It would do. Moving back to Jo, he laid it over her chest, and then scooped her up and carried her to the door.
Nicholas stepped out of the room just in time to catch Dee creeping into the back of the van. He didn't even slow, but took control of her, made her finish climbing inside and seat herself against the wall as he climbed in himself.
Kneeling in the back of the van, Nicholas shifted Jo to rest across his knees and quickly pulled the doors closed. He then scooped her up and moved to the front of the van in a crouch. Nicholas set Jo in the passenger seat, strapping her in with the seat belt, and then got behind the wheel and started the engine before reaching for his cell phone. He'd felt two pockets before recalling he didn't have, one anymore.
Cursing, Nicholas closed his eyes briefly and then opened them with a start when someone knocked at the driver's side window. Turning his head, he peered out and saw a good-sized man in his early fifties standing there, a frown on his face. Nicholas unrolled the window.
"Everything all right there, friend? Your lady doesn't look so good. Does she need help?" the man asked in a bluff voice full of both concern and suspicion.
Nicholas glanced to Jo, noting her pale, unconscious face, but the jacket was still in place, held there by the seat belt and hiding the bloodstain on her chest. He turned to peer at the man, his gaze sliding past him to the anxious woman standing nervously on the other side of the car now parked beside the van. They must have pulled up while he was strapping Jo in, Nicholas thought, and then shifted his gaze back to the man at the window.
"Do you have a cell phone?" he asked.
The man blinked. "What?"
Too impatient to be polite, Nicholas slipped into his mind and took control. The man immediately reached into his pocket and handed over a phone.
"Thanks," Nicholas murmured, and quickly punched in the number to the enforcer house. Much to his relief, it was Mortimer who answered this time. Nicholas got right to the point. "I'm bringing Jo in. She-"
"You're bringing her in?" Mortimer interrupted with disbelief.
"Yes. She's starting the turn. You'll need whatever it is they've come up with to help her through it."
"You know we won't let you leave," Mortimer warned quietly.
"I know," he said grimly, his gaze sliding past the blank-faced man at his window to see that the wife was starting to look concerned. She couldn't see her husband's face, but apparently suspected something was wrong. He shifted his attention back to the phone and said, "I ask for only one favor. Two, actually."
"What?" Mortimer asked.
"I stay with her until she's through the turn."
"Okay," Mortimer agreed.
"And I get to talk to her once she's awake before I'm taken in for judgment," Nicholas said, and then frowned and changed it to, "I want a night with her before you call Lucian."
There was silence for a minute and then Mortimer said, "Okay. I agree. What-"
"We'll be there in twenty minutes," Nicholas interrupted. "Get on the phone and get what she needs there."
He then slapped the phone closed, handed it back to the man at his window, and took a moment to rearrange his thoughts before touching on the man's wife as well.
Nicholas rolled up the window as the couple turned and moved to the door of their own motel room, and then shifted into gear and steered the van out of the parking lot. Jo moaned for the fourth time as he pulled onto the street. This time she didn't stop.