Part 29 (2/2)
Please, she prayed with her last coherent thought. Please, let it end soon.
”Nina! Hit the closet and get the b.i.t.c.h who's got Penny!” Wanda ordered with a frantic demand. She took Phoebe from Nina's arms, pulling her close to her chest. ”I'm here, honey. I'm here. I'll make it better,” she cooed against the top of Phoebe's head. ”Hold her down, Marty! For f.u.c.k sake, keep her still!”
Phoebe struggled against Wanda's tight grip, hearing their words but fighting against them anyway. It burned. It burned so much she wanted to crawl out of her skin.
”Phoebe, listen to me! Open your mouth-open it, d.a.m.n you!” Someone pinched her cheeks, forcing her mouth open and letting out what she prayed would be her last scream before it was over.
The taste on her tongue was cool and thick. A balm in the burning ma.s.s of blisters her mouth had become. ”Phoebe, listen. Listen to me,” Marty cooed, dragging her hands over Phoebe's face, soothing her. ”Let it happen, honey. Please, stop struggling. It's okay now. Shhhh. Nina has Penny, and it's okay.”
The pain screeching along her body skidded to a halt and entirely evaporated. Just like that, Phoebe sat up with a shot, narrowly missing Marty's head. ”Penny! Where's Penny?”
”Got her!” Nina yelled from somewhere sight unseen.
”Ladies! Sam! We got ta help Sam!” Darnell bellowed from the opposite end of the room where she could clearly see he held one of those guns to Terrence's head.
Pus.h.i.+ng past Nina and Marty, Phoebe rocketed across the room to where Sam lay. He writhed, and Phoebe fought a scream, for she knew his pain well. Brus.h.i.+ng her hair from her eyes, she dropped down beside him, wrapping him in her arms. No. Please. Not this way. ”Oh, G.o.d, Sam! Darnell-get the antidote!”
”There is no more, you stupid b.i.t.c.h!” Terrence cackled from his place on the floor next to Sam.
It was all it took for Phoebe to let Sam go and fall on Terrence. She yanked him upward by the hair. ”Make more, you slimy f.u.c.k!” she screamed so loud it hurt even her ears. The demand tore at her throat, ripping from it with force.
His eyes gleamed the venom that had eaten him from the inside out for all these years. ”There's no time. He's going to die, you wh.o.r.e! He'll die like the rest of them!”
From the corner of her eye, Phoebe caught Terrence's slender, pale fingers reaching behind him while Sam shook, crumbling before them.
Her eyes caught a flash of white, registering a stray gun lost in the scuffle. His speed was such that she only had time to scream, ”Shoot, Darnell! Shoot the motherf.u.c.ker!” before ducking for cover and pus.h.i.+ng Sam out of the way as a loud splash gushed from the gun's barrel.
Terrence's wails mixed with Sam's-high and howling. The anguish in both their wails spurred Phoebe toward Sam.
She crawled to him, pus.h.i.+ng Wanda from him, pulling him into her arms, making a split-second decision. He'd given her the last of the antidote. He'd given his life to save hers, and she'd do whatever it took to save his.
She had nothing to lose. Healthy vampire plus not-in-such-good-shape vampire could equal diluted but upright vampire, right?
She pulled him to her, tearing at her s.h.i.+rt and revealing the one spot on her neck where her blood had once pulsed. Without thought for what it could mean, without concern for anything other than saving Sam, she yelled at him, ”Bite me, Sam! Do it now!” Phoebe cupped his head, yanking it back by clutching his hair, and placed her neck against his protruding fangs.
Sam twisted, arching upward when she drove his fangs into her neck, his muscles straining and flexing-pus.h.i.+ng at her, pulling into her, fighting against her until he stilled and lay against her breast in a lump.
The sting of Sam's bite was a million things at once. Hot bliss, agonizingly sweet, but sharp and painful, and she fought to keep her balance.
Yet, Sam lay so still. ”Sam!” Phoebe cried, giving him a hard shake. ”Don't you dare do this to me after all this, you s.h.i.+t. You didn't even say good-bye to me, you-you stupid, prideful man. I can't get to know FBI Sam if he's dead. So don't be dead. Please, please, please don't be dead,” she begged on a dry sob, scrunching her eyes shut to ward off tears that would never fall.
Then Wanda was kneeling beside her, rubbing her shoulders, resting her chin on Phoebe's head. Marty, too. Both of them silent-silent because they didn't want to speak the unspeakable.
Nina fell to her knees beside them. She wrapped her arms around her sister, pressing her forehead to Phoebe's back, rocking her. ”Stop, Phoebe. Stop now. Please,” she whispered hoa.r.s.ely.
”I don't know what you did, but I reiterate my original vampire concerns. If it involves choosing teams or sparkling in the sunlight, I would have preferred death,” a m.u.f.fled voice said.
Nina fell against Phoebe in clear relief. She reached around Phoebe and tugged a lock of Sam's hair. ”Swear to Christ, dude-no sparkling.”
Wanda hiccupped, swiping a thumb across her cheek with a watery smile. ”Not funny, Sam McLean.”
Phoebe looked down into Sam's face. Whole, pale, without a single scratch on it. She bracketed it with both hands. ”You gave me the last of the antidote. You saved me,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his. ”You're like the wolver to my rine. The bat in my man. The Alejandro to my Constance.”
”I don't know who Alejandro is, but I'm going to be the pin in your bubble,” Sam snarled, pus.h.i.+ng his way out of her embrace and sitting up. He cupped her cheek, fingering the tendrils of her mussed hair. ”I told you to stay put, Phoebe. What the h.e.l.l were you doing here?”
Her hand wrapped around his wrist with a chuckle. ”It was an accident. Swear it. I was pacing and worrying about you and Penny and the others, and bam-”
But sharp screams stopped Phoebe from further explanation. Everyone turned their heads.
Nina rose first, brus.h.i.+ng her hands on her dirty, blood-spattered jeans. ”Shut the f.u.c.k up, whiner, or I'll give Arch the signal!” she yelled in the direction of the closet. She answered the question on everyone's faces. ”The other half of this dynamic duo. Arch has her at gunpoint.”
”Who?” Phoebe asked, rising with Sam's help. ”Who are these people?”
He pulled her tight to him, holding her close, the strength of his embrace making her smile. ”Long, long story. But Terrence is Marty's half brother.”
Phoebe gasped against his chest. ”In all the commotion, I wasn't sure I heard Marty right. So he's the brother who tried to kill her back when she was turned into a werewolf in the first place?”
Marty chuckled, straightening her dress. ”The one and only. The woman is Alana-a jealous pathetic clinger who once thought my husband should have been hers. She was in on my kidnapping the first time, too. Yet, still, she hasn't learned, I'll always be the badder b.i.t.c.h.”
Penny. She was in the closet with Penny. Forgetting everything, Phoebe strained against Sam. ”Penny!”
Nina held up a hand and crossed the room, popping open the closet door to reveal Archibald holding the most beautiful blond woman Phoebe had ever seen at gunpoint. She s.n.a.t.c.hed the woman up under one arm, and gingerly lifted a sleeping Penny, limp and still unaware, across the other.
Archibald rushed in to take Penny from Nina, pointing to her wheelchair for Nina to set her in. He placed a blanket over Penny's lap, cradling her head with his hand. ”I'll take her, miss. You”-he eyeballed the blond-”make sure this guttersnipe never sees the light of day.”
”Oh, look. It's Hooters Gone Wild. You were in on this with Terrence, too?” Marty sneered, circling the woman Nina slammed to the ground like she was a sack of potatoes. ”Everyone? This is Alana. Alana? Meet everyone who wants you dead.”
”I bought the G.o.dd.a.m.n jewelry box, you twit! That formula is mine!” she cried, rearing upward, her lithe body long and lush. ”Whatever it takes to get rid of you so Keegan will come back to me-where he belongs!”
Marty crossed her arms over her chest, staring down at the woman. ”I should have known, you jealous b.i.t.c.h. Jesus. How many times do you have to lose to me before you remember you're pathetic? Isn't it like a slap in the face every time?”
”She's gotta go, Marty,” Nina said with deadly calm, leaving Phoebe s.h.i.+vering against Sam.
”Leave her to me,” a booming voice sounded. A handsome man, tall and wide, stopped just short of this woman Alana's sobbing form. ”I'm Keegan Flaherty. Marty's husband. Pleasure. I'm sure we'll have more in-depth conversations at some point now that you're part of the ever-growing fold. Until then, I have business to take care of.”
Marty's face went from infuriated to beaming in a split second. ”Hi, honey! Thanks for coming. As you can see, we have a problem. Honest to G.o.d, never in a million did I believe that jewelry box story Helga told us was true.”
Keegan smiled at her with blatant love written all over his tanned face. ”Leave it to you to actually listen when it involves the word jewelry.”
Marty ran a loving hand over Keegan's forehead, ruffling his hair. ”Okay, off with you. Give your wife a kiss, and please, this time, throw the pack book at her, huh?”
Dropping a kiss on his wife's lips, he smiled down at her. ”You sure you got this?”
Marty rolled her blue eyes. ”Of course, silly. Shoo. See you at home later. Tell Hollis I'll come in to kiss her good night.”
Keegan nodded his dark head. ”I'm out,” he said before stooping and grabbing Alana's arm. Throwing her over his shoulder while she screamed her rage, he nonchalantly sauntered through the door.
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