Scent of Salvation

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Cramps assaulted Susan’s abdomen. They grew more intense with each wave. The damn vampire had known this would hurt, yet refused to ease her pain. She watched Benic gather ingredients from his worktable and pictured staking him like she’d seen in the movies.

Unbelievable.

She’d been infected by a mutating virus. She kept praying for someone to shout cut and see a movie set pull apart.

Benic left his table and hovered over her face. Placing his hand on her forehead, he appeared concerned. “You need willow bark tea for the fever.” He glanced at his equipment and grimaced. “I don’t have any here. It’s in my storeroom. I won’t be long.” He hurried from the room and left the door open. A cool breeze brushed over her.

The brilliant idiot truly was sorry. She believed his sincerity but it wouldn’t save her. Like in a horror stories, she was turning into a monster, except she didn’t know what kind.

She shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She was going to die.

The Black Plague received the name for a reason. It wasn’t called the Happy Plague or the Sunshine Plague. This version of the disease would try to change her DNA.

On a scientific level, it amazed her into awe. Humans had studied DNA for decades and hadn’t produced such effects. Yet a little virus had figured it out. The universe never stopped evolving.

Would Benic’s medicine work? Her system would help fight the virus but she had two strains attacking her body—shifter and vampire.

Virus and bacteria infected people differently and treating them needed separate tactics. Moldy bread juice wouldn’t help. The Apisi had a bacterial lung infection so the simple form of penicillin should cure them. Her treatment wouldn’t be so easy. She was armed only with her immune system and luck.

They needed to stay ahead of her fever so her brain wouldn’t fry. She had to keep hydrated no matter how nauseated her stomach became. A little prayer or a miracle wouldn’t hurt.

She drained the flagon of water Benic left on the side table by the cot. The tepid liquid soothed her sore throat. She tongued her sore gums and tasted blood. Lovely. Ebola caused hemorrhaging. What if she’d caught something else from Benic’s blood? HIV, herpes, syphilis? The vampire could be a petri dish of diseases.

The sound of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs traveled into her room. She sat up on the cot, her head spinning. “Did you ever consider humans are frailer than vampires?” Her voice faded at the end of her question.

Sorin had stepped through the doorway dressed like a medieval guard in chainmail.

She gasped. Her world tilted yet she couldn’t pull her gaze from him. God, he looked fantastic. She reached for him. “Sorin,” she whispered. Darkness folded around her like a scorned lover, yanking her from Sorin’s presence.

Benic hadn’t given her the immunity-boosting medicine yet.

A roar shattered her thoughts as she slipped into oblivion.

Sorin ran to Susan’s cot on the other side of the room where she had collapsed. He knelt next to it and shook her shoulders. “Susan?” Running his hands over her, he couldn’t find a wound. Sweat covered her skin, pasting her thin dress to her body.

Ahote charged into the room. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s not waking up.” Her flesh burned just like the sick in his pack. She’d been dealing with the ill. She could have caught the chest disease. It wouldn’t be long before the cough set in. “She’s sick. We need to get her home and give her the medicine she made for my pack. It saved them and should save her.” He prayed with all his soul it would.

“Let’s go.” Ahote gestured to the door.

Sorin gathered her slim form in his arms. How would they travel through the castle unnoticed with a female in his arms?

A table filled with glassware stood in the center of the room. What was Benic doing with Susan? He’d been worried about rape but this appeared more sinister.

The bloodsucker would pay. He wanted to hunt him down and pluck his limbs off one by one. Benic had stolen his mate then left her to die all by herself in this horrid room. Once Susan was safe, he’d come back. Vampire lord or not, nobody stole from Sorin.

Ahote scouted ahead, descending the stairs.

When Sorin reached the room where Kele had been kept, he paused.

She and Peder waited by the door. Both dressed in castle garb. From a distance they appeared like a couple.

“You look normal,” said the alpha.

They glanced at each other.

“Normal enough to walk out through the gate with the cart.” Sorin raised his eyebrow at them. “You should try to hide your hair, Kele. Not many blondes in this part of the world.”

She hurried to Susan. “What did he do to her?” She examined her throat and wrists. “I don’t see any bites.”

“She’s ill.” He contained a snarl. Benic feeding from his Susan hadn’t crossed Sorin’s mind. “I think she may have caught the illness afflicting my pack. We need to return her to the den where we have medicine to save her.”

Peder paled. He met Sorin’s gaze, his eyes filled with sorrow and knowledge on how fast the disease killed.

Sorin wasn’t ready to mourn Susan. He’d fight tooth and claw with death if necessary. Holding her close, he pressed his nose in her hair and savored her scent. How could he live without her? He’d just discovered love, and fate would tear them apart?

“We’re wasting time,” he snapped. “Cover your hair, Kele.”

She ran into the bedroom and returned with a scarf wrapped around her head.

“Exit through the front gate facing the forest. Bring the cart we used to get in. We’ll use it to carry Susan.” He led them out of the tower.

Ahote stood guard by the door they had used to gain access earlier. Security entering the castle was tight but once inside, it lessened.

Peder approached Sorin. “I don’t think we can fool the gate guards with another sick person in the cart trick. How do you and Ahote plan to pass as guards? They probably all know each other.”

“Valid concerns. Susan will remain with me and Ahote. We’ll leave the castle by descending the walls.”

Peder offered him a doubting look but kept silent.

“Don’t worry. Meet us where the road enters the forest.”

“Yes, Alpha.” He took Kele’s hand and led her toward the stables and into the night.

“I don’t like the way he’s touching her.” Ahote’s glare could have stabbed the omega right through his back.

“Worry about Kele’s virtue later. Peder will protect her with his life, and she has a better chance of escape with him than with us. Give me your belt and cloak.”

The Payami hunter did as ordered, to Sorin’s surprise, without question.

Sorin slung Susan onto his back, dropping her arms over his shoulders. “Attach my belt to yours and tie her to me.”

Ahote wrapped the belts around Sorin and Susan. “I ran it between her legs as well so she wouldn’t slip down.”

“Excellent. Place the cloak over her but make sure she has access to air.” Sorin could barely take a deep breath himself. He twisted and tested their disguise as he hunched forward. “And?”

“You look deformed.”

“Good.” Sweat trickled along his spine, and it wasn’t from Susan’s heat. If they were attacked, it would be hard to fight with a female strapped to his back. Dragging his right leg to add to the disguise, Sorin followed Ahote across the dark courtyard to the castle wall.

They climbed the battalions. When they reached the top, no one approached them. Sorin sighed. The guards defended against invaders, not escaping thieves wearing guard uniforms.

This section had three males securing the wall with their attention on the forest, not the stairs. Quiet as a wraith, Ahote disposed of them.

Sorin raced to the wall and glanced over the side with a grimace. Not wasting any more time, he checked on the security of Susan’s makeshift harness. If he jumped from this height he’d survive, but he couldn’t promise the same for his human mate. He’d have to take the risk of climbing. The dark should help hide them. He threw his leg over the wall’s edge but stopped as someone grabbed his arm.

“Wait.” Ahote pulled him off. “What are you doing?”

“I have to climb down. Susan’s too frail and sick for jumping.”

“Swing her around to your chest and keep her between you and the wall. I’ll go down first, and if she slips out of the harness I can catch her.”

Sorin blinked. He grabbed the hunter’s shoulders and nodded. A knot formed in his throat, preventing him from talking. Ahote had no allegiances to him or his pack.

Ahote undressed and shifted to feral form before jumping.

Sorin watched him land then tossed the cape to the floor. He lay Susan on top of it and undressed as well. After shifting to feral form, he held her to his chest and cinched the belt tight around their waists. He then settled her limp arms about his neck but they fell to his sides and Susan slumped away from his body.

Snarling, he scanned the area and listened intently. Still no alarms. His gaze caught the cloak on the ground. With a flash of genius, he tore a strip of cloth from the cloak and tied her hands together behind his neck. He smoothed the hair from her face and planted a gentle lick on her fevered forehead. He had to save her.

Please, Goddess, he’d just found her. He swung over the edge, digging his claws deep into the mortar between the stones. With each move he held his breath, prepared to catch his female if she slipped or the mortar gave.

“Hurry,” Ahote whispered from below.

Growling, he swallowed his sharp retort. The hunter meant well. So far he’d done everything he could to aid in the rescue. Sorin couldn’t have asked for a better companion.

The descent took longer than either of them wanted but he finally touched ground with his mate intact. He sucked a deep, shaky lungful of air. The muscles in his arms trembled from the abuse. Not bothering to untie Susan, he raced toward the forest with her pressed to his chest. Running as if in civil form, Sorin didn’t have the speed of Ahote, who sprinted on all fours.

The hunter made it to the forest first.

Tripping on the uneven ground, Sorin fought with his top-heavy balance. The last thing Susan needed was for him to crush her in a fall. Moonlight shadowed the forest trees and allowed him to see the road. His companions waited by the cart just inside the tree line.

Peder had shifted, his clothes lined the bottom of the empty cart—probably to soften Susan’s ride—and Kele waited next to him.

Sorin laid Susan inside, cushioning her head with his hand until he made a temporary pillow out of Peder’s shirt.

She stirred and grasped his hand.

“It’s all right. I have you now,” he whispered close to her ear, loathe to move his hand from hers.

She whimpered as he retreated, and the sound shredded his heart. Benic would pay dearly. He took hold of the cart’s yoke.

“We’ll cover more ground if I push at the same time as you pull.” Ahote gripped the edge of the cart.

Sorin nodded, gratitude thick in his scent. They raced against time, with Susan’s life as the prize.