"No."
"What do you mean no?" Lucian stared with amazement at the pilot, Bob Whithead. They were standing on the tarmac between the limo and the waiting plane, a cool breeze and cold rain spitting down on them. Bob was the only one with an umbrella and wasn't in the mood to share.
"Just what I said. I'm a pilot, not a babysitter. I'll be too damned busy to look after the girl. Either you arrange for someone to accompany her or she doesn't go."
"The co-pilot can... " Lucian's words faded as the pilot firmly shook his head.
"I need Ted in the cockpit. There's a reason there are both a pilot and co-pilot, and it isn't in case a passenger needs their blood bag changed or their hand held."
"Do you know who I am?" Lucian asked shortly. He wasn't used to being told no, and didn't like it.
"I know who you are," Bob assured him grimly. "And it doesn't matter one damned bit. I am not taking an unattended woman who is in the middle of turning onto my plane. What if she attacks me or my co-pilot?" He shook his head. "No way."
"I'll accompany her," Mortimer offered. "It's only two hours or so there, two hours back. I'll be back before you two wake up."
"Fine," Bob said abruptly. "As long as there's someone with her."
Mortimer reached for Leigh as the pilot turned to walk back to the plane, but Bricker stepped forward in protest.
"No, I want to go with her. I've never seen a turning before. It will be good experience."
"That's the perfect reason why I should go," Mortimer argued. "I have seen a turning. I know what to expect and how best to help her."
Lucian rolled his eyes as the two men began to argue. They'd come to blows in a minute. There was obviously only one way to resolve the matter.
"I'm taking her," Lucian announced. "You two go back to the hotel and get some rest. I've had at least a little sleep. I'll ride there with her, then sleep on the flight back."
Ted was waiting just inside the door of the plane. He stepped back out of the way, and greeted Lucian as he boarded.
"I put the blood in the refrigerator in the seating area," the man said, pulling the steps up and the plane door closed as Lucian carried Leigh toward the sleeping section in the back. "I didn't set up the IV, though. There's a hook for the bag on each wall above the beds. There are intercoms in each section. You can use it to reach us in the cockpit if you need anything."
Lucian grunted an acknowledgment.
"Bob said to remind you to shut off your cell phone if you have one, and to tell you to get the girl settled, then buckle yourself in. We'll be taking off in about five minutes."
Aware the man was already moving away to return to the cockpit, Lucian didn't bother to respond. He'd reached the sleeping section, a small room with an upper and lower bed on either side and a narrow aisle down the middle. He set Leigh in the bottom bed on the left, then quickly hung the blood bag from the hook in the wall. Her bag was almost empty, and he slipped back through the plane to the small refrigerator where the blood had been stowed.
Lucian grabbed two bags and hurried back to the sleeping section. He had the empty bag switched for the new one and settled himself on the bed across from Leigh with the second bag pressed to his own mouth when the plane began to taxi out to the runway.
It wasn't until they were up in the air that he remembered his cell phone. Lucian pulled the blood bag from his mouth and tossed it in the garbage bin by the bed. He then reached into his pocket, only to frown on feeling the empty space there. His cell phone was on the bedside table back at the hotel, as were his wallet, keys, and everything else he'd taken out of his pockets before lying down. He hadn't thought to grab any of it before leaving, but simply picked up Leigh and headed for the door.
More important than any of that, he hadn't thought to call Marguerite.
Lucian leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, hardly able to believe he'd made so many mistakes in such a short time. He was generally a very organized man. He was organized, his life was organized, his plans were well thought out and... well... organized. To the point where it was boring, really, but he didn't like surprises.
It seemed to him, however, that he'd had nothing but surprises and chaos today. Ever since Morgan had stepped out of the back of that van with Leigh in his arms.
Lucian opened his eyes and scowled at the woman. She was beautiful when she wasn't screaming, he noted, and that just made him scowl harder. His life had taken a sharp turn off its predictable street with her arrival, and now he found himself babysitting a turning vamp.
Not for long, Lucian assured himself. He'd take her to Marguerite, leave the girl in her care, then turn around and fly right back to Kansas to continue the hunt for Morgan.
Satisfied that his life would soon be back to normal, he closed his tired eyes. He'd just rest until Leigh's blood bag needed changing again, he told himself as he drifted off to sleep.
"Jesus Christ! How can you sleep through this racket?"
Lucian blinked his eyes open and stared blearily at the man glaring down at him. It took a minute for his sleep-fogged mind to pull itself together enough for him to realize where he was and that the man was the co-pilot, Ted. Then he also realized that the horrible high-pitched whistle of the teakettle in his dream was in fact screams. Leigh was in need of another shot. Her blood bag was also empty.
Scrubbing his hands over his face, he forced himself to his feet.
"We could hear her all the way up in the cockpit," Ted growled as Lucian stumbled past him into the sitting area. "We thought you were killing her."
"Not yet," he said dryly as he opened the cooler.
"Yeah, well Bob says -- What are you looking for?" the man interrupted himself to ask as Lucian closed the cooler and turned to search the refrigerator instead.
"Her drugs and syringes. They were in the cooler."
"The only thing in the cooler was the blood," Ted informed him.
Lucian stiffened, his head shooting up. "You're sure?"
"Of course I'm sure. I emptied it."
"They must have put them in the refrigerator at the hotel while they were getting her settled," he realized, then grabbed a bag of blood and straightened. "In which case, you'd better get used to her screaming, because without the drugs, it isn't going to stop."
"You're joking," Ted gasped with horror.
"Do I look like a man who jokes?" Lucian asked as he headed back to the sleeping section to change her bag again. "How long until we land?"
"An hour," Ted admitted, then asked, desperately, "What about mind control?"
"What about it?" Lucian asked as he removed the empty blood bag from the hook where it hung.
"I thought you guys could keep us mortals from feeling pain?"
"Sure," he agreed, throwing the empty bag in the garbage. "And if this was just a bite, or cut, or maybe even a gunshot wound, I could, but not this."
"Why not?"
Lucian frowned. The truth was because the nanos were scrambling her brain, her body, her everything. It would be impossible to blank her out. Their attack was overwhelming, every nerve on fire. But he didn't say that, he'd already explained more than usual.
"Because no one can," he said simply, and saw the man's shoulders slump in defeat. "Are there any earplugs on this plane?"
"Yeah, in the drawer above the refrigerator, but Bob and I can't use earplugs."
"But I can," Lucian said with a smile full of teeth as he finished with Leigh's IV.
The co-pilot's mouth snapped shut and he whirled away. "Try to keep her quiet. We have to concentrate."
Lucian found the earplugs where Ted had said they'd be, slipped them into his ears and let out a pleased little breath as Leigh's caterwauling was reduced to a low hum. These were the superduper model of earplug, for passengers who wanted to sleep. Lucian had never bothered with them before, but they worked well.
Feeling his tension begin to slip away, he returned to the sleeping section to watch Leigh. There wasn't much to watch, however. She was an attractive woman, but thrashing about on the bed with her mouth gaping on screams of pain did nothing to show off that attractiveness. He was relieved when they landed forty-seven minutes later. Lucian didn't know if they'd just gotten lucky and hit a good tailwind, or if Bob and Ted had put on a little speed in an effort to bring an end to the trip and Leigh's shrieks. He didn't care either way, but was just glad to have this half of the journey over with. It meant that in about half an hour he'd be free of Leigh.
Originally, Lucian had thought arriving at the airport would be the end of their acquaintance, but that was before he'd realized he hadn't called Marguerite and didn't have his cell phone to do so. Even he wasn't rude enough just to send the girl to Marguerite's with Thomas like a couriered package. He'd ride over, talk to her in person, and then dump Leigh and head back.
Lucian felt rather than heard when the engines were shut off. His gaze slid to Leigh to see that while she was shifting restlessly about, her mouth was closed. It had been for the past fifteen minutes or so, and he figured she'd worn herself out. Still, he took out his earplugs cautiously, relieved that the only sounds coming from her were quiet moans.
Slipping the earplugs into his pocket, he stood and unhooked the blood bag. He set it on her, then scooped her into his arms.
A less than pleased looking Ted was coming out of the cockpit as Lucian started up the aisle with his burden. The man nodded grimly and couldn't move quickly enough to get the plane door open for him.
"Has someone taken care of the airport officials?" Lucian asked. He had no desire to deal with airport and customs officials himself.
"Thomas," Ted answered tersely, and stepped out of the way for him to disembark. "He should be here with a car at any moment."
Lucian nodded at the mention of another of his nephews and turned to peer out of the plane. It was just past three in the afternoon, and he'd worried that the sun would be a problem. However, while it wasn't raining as it had been in Kansas, it was a cool, damp day. The sun was hiding behind rain clouds that had obviously already spilled some of their liquid on the area, but were threatening to drop more.
Shoulders relaxing, Lucian eased his way through the door, turning and shifting his burden to avoid banging her into the walls of the plane. By the time he descended the steps to the tarmac, a car was pulling to a stop several feet in front of him.
Thomas seemed to be out of the car almost before it came to a halt. He hurried forward with a loose-legged walk and a bright smile. It was one of the things that drove Lucian nuts about the lad. Thomas was always smiling and cheerful. It was his youth, he supposed. The man was only a couple hundred years old. Thomas hadn't seen as much of life as he had, so could be forgiven for not knowing there was little to smile about in this world. He would learn soon enough.
"How was your flight?" Thomas greeted him.
"Fine. Carry this." Lucian hefted his burden toward his nephew, who quickly raised his arms.
The younger man caught Leigh to his chest with a grunt, eyes wide as he peered down at her pale face. "Who is she?"
"Mr. Argeneau?"
Ignoring his nephew's question, Lucian glanced back to find Ted holding out the portable IV stand. He took the stand with a nod, then ordered, "Have the plane refueled. I'll need to fly back to Kansas when I return, which shouldn't be more than a couple hours."
"Yes, sir." The man's face was grim as he backed into the plane, presumably to pass on the news to the pilot.
"Who is she?" Thomas repeated.
"Leigh."
"Leigh who?"
"How should I know?" Lucian asked with irritation. "Open your fingers."
Thomas looked confused, but uncurled the fingers that rested under the girl's outer thigh. The moment he did, Lucian slid the folded portable IV into them, then turned to walk to the car.
"What do you mean how should you know?" Thomas demanded.
Lucian smiled faintly to himself as he heard Thomas scurrying after him with his burden, but merely shrugged with disinterest and opened the front passenger door. "Just what I said. I don't know who she is."
He slid into the front seat and pulled the car door closed, leaving Thomas to deal with getting the woman into the backseat. He'd done his bit by taking her away from the house in Kansas and changing her blood bags for the last two hours. He now fully intended on delivering her into his sister-in-law's tender mercies and never giving her another thought.
Marguerite would see her through the turning, then help her learn all those things she needed to know to live as one of them. And Marguerite -- or one of her brood -- would also then see the chit set up with an identity and probably even a job. It was what Marguerite did. She took in all the strays. Thomas and his sister Jeanne Louise were two of several the woman had mothered over the ages.
Lucian settled back in the front passenger seat, fully satisfied that -- once again -- he'd proven he wasn't the complete bastard everyone seemed to think he was. He'd spared a life and seen to her well-being, or would have within the hour. Then he could get on with business, he assured himself, ignoring the muffled curses and grunts through the car window as Thomas struggled to get the back door open without dropping either the woman or the IV.
"You could have at least opened the door," Thomas muttered as he got into the driver's seat a moment later.
"Why? You managed fine on your own," Lucian pointed out mildly.
Shaking his head, Thomas started the engine and began to steer the vehicle away from the plane. "Your place?" he asked moments later, as he negotiated the car onto the highway.
"Marguerite's," Lucian corrected, aware that the answer drew a sharp glance.
"Does she know you're coming?" Thomas asked warily.
Lucian frowned at the expression on his face. "Why?"
"No reason. Never mind," he said quickly, then muttered under his breath, "This ought to be good."
Lucian opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but before he could, Leigh began to scream and thrash about on the backseat, her legs kicking at the door by her feet. Startled, Thomas jerked and the car swerved, crossing over the center line before he regained control and pulled it back. Fortunately there was no one in the lane beside them at the time.
Lucian didn't comment, but was aware of the sharp glances Thomas kept sending his way.
"Can't you do something for her?" his nephew finally asked, when several moments passed and her screaming and thrashing didn't stop.
"I already have. I didn't kill her," Lucian said dryly, then added, "Slow down. You're as bad as taxi drivers."
"And you're a backseat driver," Thomas muttered, then cursed under his breath. "Surely there are some drugs or something we could give her to settle her down?"
Lucian glanced at him with interest. "Do you have any?"
Thomas blinked. "No."
"Hmm." He sat back in his seat. "Neither do I."
Thomas stared for a moment, glanced back at the woman in the back of the car, then said, "Her screaming is rather loud, don't you think? Just a bit distracting for those of us trying to concentrate."
"Yes, it is," Lucian agreed, and reached into his pocket for his earplugs. He popped them into his ears and closed his eyes, the shrieking in the car considerably muffled. He'd have killed the woman before the plane had landed without the earplugs. They were a blessing.
The rest of the ride to Marguerite's was uneventful as far as Lucian was concerned. He opened his eyes once or twice to see Thomas talking to himself. Most likely cursing him, Lucian thought with amusement, and closed his eyes again, only to open them several moments later as the car slowed and turned into Marguerite's driveway.
Relieved to see an end to this chore, Lucian cautiously removed the earplugs, to find the screaming from the backseat had been reduced to a hoarse cry and the thrashing to restless twisting and turning. The girl had worn herself out for now. Thomas parked as close to the front door as he could get, which was right behind one of the company vans in the drive that curved around the front of the house. Lucian glanced at the other vehicle curiously as he got out of the car.
He thought that it might be delivering blood, then realized that it was one of the Argeneau Enterprises vans, not one of the Argeneau Blood Bank trucks. Besides, it appeared to be full of luggage... as well as Marguerite's housekeeper and groundsman, he saw as he walked past the open side door.
"Bring the luggage in, Thomas," Lucian ordered with a frown as he approached the front.
"What about the girl?" Thomas asked with irritation.
"That's what I meant." Lucian stepped through the open front doors of the house.
"Oh, thank goodness!"
The cry drew his gaze to the stairs to the right of the door, and he smiled faintly as Marguerite came rushing down. She was a beautiful brunette with classic features and laughing eyes, and looked no more than twenty-five, which was damned good for a woman of seven hundred plus years. Her youngest son, Etienne, was hard on her heels, a suitcase in each hand. Tall, blond, and equal in good looks to his mother, the man smiled at him over her head.
"I was afraid you would not get here before we left, Lucian." Marguerite reached his side and leaned up to kiss his cheek.
He stiffened under her greeting. "You knew I was coming?"
"Yes, Mortimer called both Bastien and myself after you left Kansas City. How was your flight?"
"Fine," Lucian answered absently, nodding in response to Etienne's smile of greeting as the man rushed out the door with the suitcases. "What's going on? And what do you mean before you left? What about the girl?"
"I took care of everything," she assured him. "As soon as I got off the phone with Mortimer, I immediately arranged to have blood delivered, then set up Lissianna's old room for her."
"What about drugs?" Lucian asked with concern.
"On the bedside table."
He nodded.
Marguerite patted his arm, then pressed something into his hand and turned to head out the front door. "I'm so glad you got here before we left. I didn't want to leave the keys under the front mat. I was afraid you wouldn't think to look there."
Lucian glanced down and opened his hand to reveal the keys she'd pressed into his palm. Her keys. To the house, the car, the -- Snapping his hand closed, he hurried after her, pausing to step out of the way as Thomas struggled through the door carrying the girl and the IV. He waited impatiently for him to move off up the hall, then hurried out the door, toward Marguerite, who was fussing over the way Etienne was placing the last two bags in the back of the van.
"What do you mean before you left?" Lucian asked again as he reached her side. "Where are you going?"
"That'll do," Marguerite decided, apparently now satisfied with the placement. "Thank you, Etienne."
She patted his shoulder as he closed the side door, then turned to answer Lucian, only to pause, her gaze shooting past him. "Thomas! Get over here and give me a kiss good-bye."
Lucian shifted impatiently and glanced over his shoulder as the younger man rushed over to kiss and hug her, saying, "Have a good trip."
"I will, thank you. And you stay out of trouble while I'm gone," she ordered lightly.
"I'll do my best," Thomas assured her with a grin, then turned to step out of the way as Lucian glared at him.
"Marguerite -- " he began as she turned to open the front passenger door. "Where do you think you're going?"
His sister-in-law stepped up into the van and reached for the seat belt as she answered. "To Europe. Don't you remember? I have a job there. I told you about it last week."
Yes, she had, Lucian realized, but he'd forgotten all about it. "But who's going to look after the girl?"
She finished snapping her seat belt into place, then glanced at him with surprise. "Why, I thought you were going to, Lucian."
"Why would I have brought her here if I was going to look after her?"
"I did wonder about that," Marguerite admitted. When he opened his mouth again, she added, "I knew you weren't arrogant enough to expect me to change all my plans and neglect the first job I've had in seven hundred years, in order to handle a problem you chose to take on."
Lucian snapped his mouth closed.
Marguerite smiled and leaned out to kiss his cheek, then pulled the passenger door closed and leaned forward in her seat to smile at him through the window. "She's very pretty."
"Yes," he agreed, distracted.
"I did wonder what had moved you to help her. You don't generally collect strays, and aren't known for your mercy, but now I see. Congratulations, take good care of her."
Lucian scowled and was about to protest, but she'd turned to glance at Etienne as the younger man started the van.
"Let's go, Etienne," he heard her say, then she turned to peer out at him again as she added, "By the way, Julius is still here. The woman from the kennel was supposed to be here about ten minutes ago. She's late. Julius and all of his things -- along with the special instructions for his medicine -- are in the kitchen. Just send her in there when she gets here, won't you?"
Lucian nodded, his heart sinking as he watched the van pull away. It had nearly reached the road when he recalled Thomas. He turned toward where the car should have been, eager to enlist his aid, and frowned when he saw the car was gone. The lad had snuck off while he was distracted, probably hoping to get away before he could be recruited for the chore ahead.
Well, his dear nephew thought wrong. Lucian strode into the hall and snatched up the phone, then stared blankly at the ridiculous number of buttons and symbols on the huge dial pad. It was as bad as an airplane cockpit. Shaking his head, he began to punch buttons randomly until he got a dial tone. He'd barely heard the blessed sound before a scream rent the air from the living room.
It was Leigh again. Great.
Lucian ignored it and punched the button with Thomas's name beside it. Marguerite had all of her brood on speed dial, and she counted Thomas and his sister Jeanne Louise among them. By the time the phone began to ring, a dog's howl had joined the chorus of shrieking.
Julius, Lucian thought, closing his eyes as he listened to the phone ringing and willed his nephew to pick up. He let it ring until it cut out then dialed again. After three tries he cursed and slammed the phone down impatiently.
"Julius, shut up!" Lucian roared as he stormed up the hall. The dog obeyed at once, cutting the cacophony of sound in half. He only wished the woman could be silenced so easily.
Lucian followed the screams into the living room and surveyed the scene. The blood bag was empty, which was a good thing because the girl had thrashed about enough to dislodge the IV from her arm, leaving it to leak onto Marguerite's snow white carpet. Fortunately, there were only a couple of drops to worry about. Not that he would.
Marching across the room, Lucian glared down at the woman and opened his mouth to order her to silence as well. But he knew from prior experience that wouldn't work. Grimacing, he pulled the earplugs out of his pocket once more and popped them in his ears, decreasing the noise to a faint roar.
Feeling a little more composed now that his ears weren't assaulted by her high-pitched screeches, Lucian bent and scooped her into his arms, then carried her out of the living room. He'd almost reached the stairs before he noticed the woman standing, gaping, in the open front door.
"Oh, you must be here about Marguerite's dog, Julius!" he said, his voice rising to a shout because of the earplugs and the muffled shrieks of the woman in his arms. Lucian glanced back over his shoulder toward the kitchen door at the end of the hall, adding, "He's in the kitchen. Marguerite said all his stuff is in there, too. As well as some instructions... "
Lucian's voice faded away and he tilted his head with a frown as he realized a second noise had joined the muffled shrieks of the woman in his arms. It took a moment for him to realize it was Julius barking again. He grimaced, but supposed the dog had heard him shout his name and was now excited. Lucian shrugged. Not his problem anymore, the dog-lady could deal with it.
He turned back and opened his mouth to shout again, only to pause as he noted the dog-lady was staring at the woman in his arms with abject horror. Lucian glanced down. Leigh's hair was damp with sweat, her face deathly pale, her white top bloodstained, and she was flopping around in his arms like a fish landed on a boat with a hook in its mouth. And speaking of mouths, hers was open on the screams she didn't seem able to stop at the moment, shrieks of combined agony and horror.
Oh yeah, Lucian thought dryly, this couldn't look good.
Sighing inwardly, he raised his gaze to the dog-lady, planning to do the mind zap bit, only to find himself staring at blank space. The woman was gone. Frowning, Lucian stepped up to the door, arriving just in time to see a white van screech off down the driveway.
"Hey!" he roared. "What about Julius?"
The van didn't even slow down. Lucian scowled after the vehicle with impotent fury as it careened out onto the road, then he turned back into the house. He'd just kicked the door shut with one foot when the kitchen door at the end of the hall burst open and a mass of black fur exploded up the hall toward him.
Apparently, Julius had heard his name being shouted and worked frantically to get to him. And succeeded, Lucian realized with alarm.
Julius was a Neapolitan mastiff. He was black as night, thirty inches tall, and weighed in at a little over two hundred pounds. He was also presently dragging a gutted bag of garbage that he'd obviously attacked and somehow gotten caught around his back left leg. Empty cans and various bits of debris were spilling out every which way as the dog charged toward him, and the large jowls of his ridiculously wrinkly face swung to and fro, drool flying every which way as he ran.
Lucian instinctively bared his fangs and hissed at the oncoming dog. Rather than lunge up to plant his paws on Lucian's chest -- which would have done further damage to the woman he carried -- Julius skidded to a halt, his hind end sliding out from under him on the marble floor. He nearly crashed into Lucian's feet, but fortunately managed to regain his footing at the last moment and turned to charge up the stairs, away from Lucian's wrath, dragging the garbage bag with him.
Lucian watched the dog disappear along the upper hall. He then let his gaze drop slowly over the trail of discarded newspapers, cans, leftover food, and other detritus Julius had left in his wake, and felt a headache begin somewhere behind his right eye.
