Tess shrugged, then gave a vague nod. "Will Dante be okay?"
"I think he'll fare better if he knows you're near."
Gabrielle gestured for Tess to follow her down the corridor to the infirmary, the very wing where she had fled Dante in fear earlier that day. They entered the room where Dante had been brought, and Tess watched as his friends removed his weapons, then carefully stripped him out of his fatigues and boots and placed him in a hospital bed.
Tess was moved by the concern of all in the room. Dante was loved here, accepted for what he was. He had a family here, a home, a life--and yet he'd risked it all to save her. As much as she wanted to fear him, to resent him for everything that had gone between them, she couldn't. She looked at Dante, suffering in sacrifice for her, and all Tess felt was love.
"Let me," she said softly, moving to Dante's bedside. She met the worried faces of the other people who cared for him--the warriors gathered around him, the two women whose tender gazes said they understood what she was feeling. "Let me help him... please."
Tess touched Dante's cheek, stroking his strong jaw. She concentrated on his burns, letting her fingers trail down over his bare chest, over the beautiful markings that were blistered and raw, churning with angry color. As gently as she could, Tess placed her hands on the seared flesh, using her gift to draw away the radiation, take away the pain.
"Oh, my God," whispered one of the warriors. "She's healing him."
Tess heard the awestruck gasps, the words of hope that traveled among Dante's friends--his family. She felt some of their affection pouring over onto her, but as welcome as the warmth of their regard was, Tess's entire focus was on Dante. On making him well.
She leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his slack mouth, unfazed by the rasp of his fangs against her lips. She loved him wholly, just as he was, and she prayed for the chance to tell him so.
Dante was going to live. His UV burns had been severe--easily life-threatening--but his Breedmate's healing touch had ultimately proven more powerful than the death that stalked him. Like the others at the compound, Chase had been astonished at Tess's ability and at her clear devotion to Dante. She had stayed by his side every moment, caring for him as he had done for her when he'd rescued her from the Rogues' attack.
Everyone agreed they would make a good match: both of them strong as inpiduals; together they would be unbreakable.
With the worst of the storm past and the compound settling down into a peaceful sense of calm at the arrival of night, Chase's thoughts turned homeward too. His own journey wasn't at an end yet; the road ahead of him was murky and uncertain. Once it had all seemed so clear to him, what his future should hold, where he belonged... and with whom.
Now he wasn't sure about anything.
He said his good-byes to the warriors and their mates, then left, heading out of the Order's world, back to his own. The drive back into the city was quiet. The wheels of his borrowed vehicle were spinning, the road falling away behind him, but where was he going, after all?
Could he really call the Darkhaven home anymore? With his senses honed from the short time he'd spent in the company of the warriors, his body weighted down by all the metal he was carrying under his coat--the sundry blades, the Beretta 9mm that had somehow become a comforting presence against his hip--how could he ever expect to integrate back into the staid life he'd once known?
And what of Elise?
He could not go back to that tormented existence of wanting a woman he might never have. He'd have to tell her how he felt about her and let the chips fall where they may. She had to know everything. Chase didn't delude himself with the hope that she might welcome his affection. In fact, he wasn't even sure what to hope for. He only knew that the half-life he was living was over, starting now.
Chase turned onto the Darkhaven's gated drive with a sense of freedom washing through him. Things were about to change for him. While he couldn't guess at how everything might shake down from here, he felt liberated to know that he had reached a turning point in his life. He pulled up the gravel driveway and parked near the Darkhaven residence.
The house was lit up from within, Elise's bedroom and living quarters glowing with soft light. She was awake, probably anxiously waiting for him to return with word from the compound.
Chase killed the engine and opened the door of the vehicle. The instant his boots hit the ground, he got a prickling sense that he was not alone. He pocketed the keys and got out, discreetly unbuttoning his pea coat as he stood. His eyes scanned the night shadows, peering into the darkness for some sign of the enemy he knew was there. His ears were attuned to every subtle noise in his surroundings--the rustle of na**d branches as the breeze soughed through them; the muffled drone of the stereo in the house, Elise's favorite soft jazz playing in the background...
And then, running counterpoint to all of that, the raspy wheeze of someone breathing not far from where Chase stood. There was a crunch of gravel behind him. Chase's fingers were already curled around the grip of the 9mm as he slowly pivoted to face the threat.
Camden.
The d?j? vu that hit Chase was like a cannon blast to the gut. But his nephew looked even worse than before, if that was possible. Caked in dried blood and gore, grisly evidence of recent kills that had not slaked his thirst, Camden came away from the hedge that had concealed him and loped closer. His huge fangs dripped saliva as he sized up Chase as his next fix for the Bloodlust that had taken over his body and mind. He had been unreachable when Chase encountered him in Ben Sullivan's apartment. Now he was dangerous and unpredictable, a rabid dog left to go feral too long.
Chase looked at him sadly, full of remorse for the fact that he hadn't been able to find him--hadn't been able to save him--in time to prevent this irrevocable transformation to Rogue.