That alone was enough to give him the strength to take control.
When he reached the car, he threw open the back door to lay her down on the seat, gently pulling her long hair out of the doorway before shutting her in. He rushed into the driver's seat, then raced down slippery roads for Kinevane, glancing back every few seconds. Dread settled over him when half an hour had passed and she still showed no signs of regeneration. Her wounds continued to bleed freely with none of the closure he should already be seeing.
Never slowing, he bit his wrist open and thrust it back to her lips. "Drink, Emma!"
She turned her face away. He put it against her once more, but she refused, clenching her jaw shut. She could die if she didn't drink.
He'd been so busy hating what she was that he hadn't worried about how she saw him.
He pulled to the side of the road, reaching back to dig his fingers into her mouth and part her teeth. When he dripped blood into her mouth, she couldn't stop herself from latching onto him, closing her eyes and drinking deeply. She stopped bleeding at once. When she passed out, he sped off again.
The drive to Kinevane was a new kind of hell for him. He ran his other arm over his forehead, sweating, not knowing if more would attack or where they'd come from. He didn't know if she was strong enough to sustain this wound. How had she known to run from them?
He'd almost lost her four days after finding her...
No, he'd almost given her away, allowed them to take her to Helvita - which he'd never been able to find. He'd scoured Russia for it, perhaps had just gotten close when they'd ambushed him last time.
So close to losing her... Now he knew he would do anything to keep her.
He could work past his pain and torturing memories because he'd seen tonight how different she was from the others. Her appearance, her movements, everything was different. Her nature wasn't about aggression and killing like the others'. Blood for her - and now for Lachlain - was about life.
Her wounds had begun healing immediately when she drank from him. He could sustain her.
Which was the least he could do, since she'd finally made his life worth living.
Emma woke to the sound of bellowing and cracked open her eyes.
The headlights illuminated Lachlain shoving his shoulder into a massive gate, against the crest in the center. The raised seal was made up of two halves, one wolf on each side facing each other. The wolves were depicted as they might be in antiquity, showing the heads and forepaws, fangs and claws bared, ears forward. Great, Lykae-land. Not in Kansas anymore...
Lachlain was not making a dent in the metal, even with his strength. Mystically protected? Of course. Thank Freya he'd known better than to try to drive the car through.
She watched through heavy-lidded eyes as he prowled in the drizzle, raking his hand through his wet hair as he studied the gate. "How the f**k do I get in?" Once more he attempted to power it open, and once more a gut-wrenching bellow reverberated as if down a valley.
Should she tell him about the intercom? Could she physically? Just as she was debating it, the gate was opened by someone unseen.
Lachlain rushed back into the car. "We're here, Emma!"
Though the heater ran full blast, and the seat warmer as well, she shivered in her damp clothes with a cold like she'd never known. When the gate clanged shut behind them, she rested her eyes, at last feeling safe. At least from more vampire attacks.
She was dimly aware that they drove and drove over a property that must be miles long. Finally Lachlain parked, and leapt out of the car to throw open the back door and draw her out. He held her close to his chest, hurrying into an entranceway that blazed with light, hurting her eyes. He bounded up the stairs, giving orders to some young man following in his wake.
"Bandages, Harmann. And hot water."
"Aye, my liege." He snapped his fingers, and Emma heard someone running to obey the command.
"Is my brother here?"
"No, he's overseas. He...we thought you were dead. When you didn't return and the searches came up empty - "
"I need tae speak with him as soon as possible. Doona tell the elders of my return yet."
Emma coughed, an ugly, rattling sound, and she realized she'd never fathomed what pain was. She willed herself not to look down at her chest.
"Who is she?" the young man asked.
Lachlain drew her in closer to him. "She's her," he answered, as if that made any sense. To her, he said, "You're safe, Emma. You're goin' tae be fine."
"But she's...not a Lykae," the man said.
"She's a vampire."
A strangled sound. "A-are you certain? Of her?"
"I've never been surer of anything in my life."
Her thoughts grew hazy, and blackness beckoned.
Lachlain carried her to his room, laying her in his ancient bed, the first woman he'd ever brought to it.
Harmann followed, then set about starting a fire. Lachlain might feel uneasy with the fireplace at his back, but knew Emma needed the warmth.
A maid swiftly returned with hot water, cloth, and bandages, and another two carried in their bags from the car. Then with pensive expressions, the maids left with Harmann so Lachlain could care for her.
Emma was still weak, in and out of consciousness as he stripped her damp clothing from her and bathed her wounds. Though she was visibly healing now, her fragile, soft skin was still ravaged between her br**sts down to her ribs. His hands shook as he washed her.
"That hurts," she rasped, flinching when Lachlain inspected her wounds a last time before bandaging her.