"You'll be all right," she told him softly. "Let me help you, Dante. You're safe."
And for the first time he could ever recall, he believed that he was.
Chapter Sixteen
Dante lifted his eyelids, waiting for the splintering headache to blind him. Nothing happened. No staggering aftershocks, no cold sweat, no bone-numbing fear.
He blinked once, twice, staring up at a white acoustic-tile ceiling and an extinguished fluorescent-light panel above his head. Strange surroundings--the muted-taupe walls, the small upholstered sofa underneath him, the tidy wooden desk across from him, its orderly surface illuminated by a ginger-jar lamp next to the computer workstation.
He breathed in, smelling none of the familiar smoke or other burning stench that had filled his nostrils in the hellish reality of his death vision. All he smelled was a spicy-sweet warmth that seemed to cocoon him in peace. He brought his hands up from his sides, smoothing them over the fleece throw that only partially covered his big body. The plush cream-colored blanket smelled like her.
Tess.
He turned his head just as she was coming into the room from the hallway outside. The white lab coat was gone; she looked incredibly soft and feminine in an unbuttoned pale green cardigan over her beige knit top. Her jeans rode her hips, baring a thin wedge of smooth creamy flesh where the hem of her shirt didn't quite meet the top of her pants. She'd let her hair down from the plastic claw that held it before. Now the honeyed brown waves fell down around her shoulders in loose glossy curls.
"Hi," she said, watching him sit up and swivel around to put his feet on the carpeted floor. "Are you feeling better?"
"Yeah."
His voice was a dry croak, but he felt surprisingly well. Rested. Cooled out, when he should have been jacked up tense and hurting--the usual hangover that came in the wake of his death vision. On impulse, he ran his tongue along the line of his teeth, feeling for fangs, but the fearsome canines were receded. His eyesight felt normal, not the sharp, otherworldly twin laser beams that marked him as one of the Breed.
The storm of his transformation, if it had come at all, was past. He moved the fluffy throw off him and realized he was missing his coat and boots. "Where's my stuff?"
"Right here," she said, pointing to the black leather coat and the lug-soled Doc Martens that had been placed neatly on a guest chair near the door. "Your cell phone is on my desk. I turned it off a couple of hours ago. I hope you don't mind. It was ringing pretty continuously and I didn't want it to wake you."
A couple of hours ago? "What time is it now?"
"Um, it's quarter to one."
Shit. Those calls were probably the compound, wondering where the hell he was. Lucy was gonna have some 'splaining to do.
"Harvard's resting, by the way. He's got a few problems that could be very serious. I fed him and gave him fluids and some IV antibiotics, which should help him sleep. He's in the kennels down the hall."
For a few seconds, Dante was confused, wondering how she could possibly know the Darkhaven agent and why the hell he'd be medicated and sleeping in the kennels of her clinic. Then his brain kicked into gear and he remembered the mangy little animal he'd used as a means of ingratiating himself further with Tess.
"I'd like to keep him overnight, if you don't mind," Tess said. "Maybe a couple of days, so I can run a few more tests and make sure he's getting everything he needs."
Dante nodded. "Yeah. Okay."
He looked around at the small, comfortable little office setup, with its minifridge in the corner and the electric hot plate that sat next to a coffeemaker. Obviously, Tess spent a lot of time in the place. "This isn 't the room I was in before. How did I get here?"
"You had some kind of seizure in the examination room. I got you on your feet and helped you walk back here to my office. I thought it would be more comfortable for you. You seemed pretty out of it."
"Yeah," he said, rubbing his hand over his face.
"Is that what it was, a seizure?"
"Something like that."
"Does it happen frequently?"
He shrugged, seeing no cause to deny it. "Yeah, I guess so."
Tess came toward him then, taking a seat on the arm of the sofa. "Do you have medication for it? I wanted to check, but I didn't feel right going through your pockets. If there's something you need--"
"I'm good," he said, still marveling at the absence of pain or nausea following what had been the worst assault he'd experienced to date. The only one that had ever come on while he was awake. Now, aside from being a bit groggy from a hard sleep, he could barely tell he'd had the damn vision at all. "Did you... give me something, or maybe... do something to me? I felt your hands on my back at one point and moving around my head... "
A strange expression came over her face, almost a look of momentary panic. Then she blinked and glanced away from him. "If you think it will help, I have Tylenol in my desk. I'll get you some and a glass of water." She started to get up.
"Tess." Dante reached out and took her wrist in a loose grasp. "You stayed with me the whole time-- all these hours?"
"Of course. I couldn't very well leave you here by yourself."
He got a sudden, clear mental picture of what she must have seen if she was anywhere near him while he fought the onslaught of his death vision. But she hadn't run away shrieking, and she wasn't looking at him in terror now either. In fact, he had to wonder if being with her hadn't somehow eased the worst of his nightmare before it had even begun.
Her touch had been so soothing, so cool and tender.