"Join the club,” she murmured and looked past him as a gray-suited man carrying a heavy bag bustled into the room.
"About time,” Jake said, rising to make room for the stranger. “She's bleeding pretty heavily from her left arm."
"It's just my arm that's injured, not my tongue,” she muttered. The gray-suited stranger knelt beside her, then reached into his bag and grabbed some gloves. “You able to remove your sweater, or shall we just cut it?"
"Cut it,” she said. The less she moved right now, the better it was for the pain in her head. She closed her eyes again, leaning her head back against the wall while the doctor sliced open the sleeve of her sweater.
"Pretty nasty,” he murmured after a while. “And you're losing a fair bit of blood. You should really go to the emergency room."
"No. Just stitch it up, Doctor. I'll be fine."
"I really think you'd be better in emergency. The wound is very deep, and might have caused serious muscle damage."
She bit back her annoyance. The last thing she felt like doing right now was arguing—especially when her head felt ready to explode. All she wanted to do was take some painkillers and lie down in the dark until the pain drifted away.
"I don't care what you really think,” she snapped. “Just stitch the wound up. If you're worried about being sued, write up a release form, and I'll sign the damn thing." The doctor glanced around. “Mr. Morgan? This could come back on the hotel, you know."
"It won't. Just do as she asks,” Jake said.
The doctor muttered something under his breath. She closed her eyes again, trying to ignore the sharp sting of the needle as he began stitching her arm.
Time slithered by. “Here,” he said eventually, “is a prescription for painkillers. If you see any sign of infection near the wound, get yourself to a hospital immediately. Try not to use your arm much for the next few days."
She opened her eyes and accepted the white slip from him. He shoved the bloody cloths in a bag, peeled off his gloves and placed them in a medical-waste bag, then picked everything up and headed out the door.
"You want me to get that prescription filled?” Jake said into the silence. She nodded and handed it to him. “Don't bother with a guard near the door, either."
"Nik, I can't leave you here unprotected."
"Why not? A guard wouldn't have stopped that vampire, believe me.” She rubbed a hand across her eyes, trying to ease the ache. “Besides, it may have been just a random attack." Jake snorted. “When he knew your name? You can't honestly believe that." She didn't. But right now, she just wasn't up to looking for answers or worrying. “Look, I'll be fine—the vampire won't be missed for a few hours yet. I'll just catch some sleep, and then I'll do the search for Dale."
Footsteps sounded outside. She tensed and didn't relax any when two burly police officers appeared in the doorway. Sleep, it seemed, was a ways off yet.
She answered their questions as civilly as her headache allowed, wishing all the while everyone would just leave her alone. They “tutted” over the window, gouged the knife from the mahogany sideboard and eventually said they'd get back to her.
Not that she expected to hear from them anytime soon. Knife attacks, it seemed, weren't big news. Especially when nobody was missing or dead.
By that time, Jake was back with her painkillers. She climbed wearily to her feet and gave him a tired smile. “Thanks."
"I've arranged for you to be put into the next suite. We have to get the window here fixed anyway." She nodded, though she had a suspicion changing location wasn't going to make a great deal of difference to whoever was after her. She collected her bag and followed him into the next suite. It was almost identical to the original one.
"I've already told Mark it'll be this afternoon before we can try to find Dale. Go get some sleep, Nik. You look like shit."
"Gee, thanks, Boss. It's nice to know you're always there with an encouraging word." He grinned and handed her the keycard. “I'll head downstairs and keep an eye out for Michael." She glanced at her watch. “It's barely even seven."
"Yeah, but your boyfriend has a habit of turning up when he's least expected. I'd hate for him to walk in and find you like this. He can get pretty temperamental when it comes to your safety." She grinned. “Anyone would think you were scared of him." The sudden seriousness in Jake's expression surprised her. “Look, I know he would never hurt you, and probably not me—but I've seen what he can do, Nik. And part of me still does fear him.” He hesitated, then shrugged. “It's not just the vampire factor, either." She touched his arm, squeezing gently. “I know what you mean.” Because she did. She loved Michael, and she trusted him. But there had been a few times in the past when his reactions, his anger, had frightened her. He may have controlled his dark half, but it was still a part of him, and none of them could really afford to forget that.
Certainly Michael never did.
"Henry's stationed near your door, and there's another guard near the elevator.” Jake wagged a warning finger in front of her nose. “No arguments, missy. They'll stay until Michael gets here."
"Fine,” she muttered, too tired to argue any more. “Wake me at twelve, and I'll try finding Dale."
"You wake when you wake. Just get reception to page me when you do. Sleep tight." She watched him disappear out the door before heading into the bedroom. She grabbed a glass of water from the bathroom and took a couple of painkillers, then stripped and climbed into the party-sized bed. Shame I'm alone, she thought and snuggled deep into the silk sheets. But as sleep drifted in, dreams stirred.
Dreams that warned of death striking down someone close to her. Someone she loved.
Chapter Four