Younger, Bree - Burn [All American Vampires 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (3 page)

“Jesus!” She threw herself down beside him. He looked horrid. He was burned, burned so badly his skin was red and blistered. What the hell had been done to him? Had someone set him on fire? How long had he been here?
Please, God, let him be alive
.

When she leaned over to check for a pulse, her forgotten camera flopped forward, almost striking against the man’s face. Quickly she pulled the strap over her head and set the camera aside. Then she reached out to lay hesitant fingers against his neck. At first, she couldn’t feel a pulse, so she pressed harder, trying not to lose her nerve. She’d just moved her hand lower, thinking maybe she was feeling in the wrong spot, when his eyes opened and stared straight into hers.

She jerked back, startled, before letting out a small relieved laugh.

“Mister? Mister? It’s okay. I’m going to help you. Can you hear me?” He blinked his eyes closed and then opened them again, but they seemed unfocused, and she couldn’t tell if he knew what she was saying. Suddenly, he let out a low moan of such pain that Libby’s heart pulsed in sympathy. “I’m going to get you loose,” she assured him when his eyes closed again, hoping the man could understand her.

She examined his bonds with a growing feeling of helplessness. He had been bolted to the ground with heavy chains and locks. She tried pulling up the stakes, tugging and bracing herself against the ground, but she just didn’t have the strength. They didn’t even budge. There was no way for her to get him free like this. What the hell could she do? She didn’t want to take the time to drive all the way back to civilization and then get someone out here to help her. He might be dead before she could do all that. Or whoever did this to him might come back. Hell. They might still be around somewhere.

She could feel herself about to panic, her eyes darting nervously around trying to catch a glimpse of anything suspicious looking, but she saw nothing. She needed to do something to help him. To keep them both safe. Wait. Her gun. It was in her truck under the front seat. She always carried it with her when she traveled any distance. She would feel much safer with it—plus, the thought suddenly occurred to her—she might be able to use it to shoot through the chains.

 
“Mister?” He opened his eyes again. They were such a clear blue that they seemed to pierce straight through Libby when they focused on her face. “I don’t know if you understand what I’m saying, but I can’t get you free like this. It’s impossible. I’m not strong enough. I’m going to my truck for my gun. Okay? I’ll be right back.”

He shook his head, finally responding to her. “Don’t go.” The words were rasped out in a barely intelligible whisper. “Please. Hurts.”

She had to close her eyes against the agony she saw etched on his face. Tears blurred her vision. “I swear I’ll be right back.”

His eyes pleaded with her not to leave him alone and in such pain. “Help me. Thirsty.” He made as if to reach for her, but his hand was stopped by the chains. “Thirsty. So thirsty.”

Libby bit her lip in helpless empathy. “I know. I know it hurts. I know you’re thirsty. And I don’t have any water here, but there’s some in my truck. I’ll bring it back with me. I promise. Let me go get the truck. I’ll drive it up here. Then I can get you to a hospital.” She stood. “I’ll hurry. I promise.”

With one last desperate look at the poor man, she stood and began running back in the direction of the cabin and her SUV as fast as her legs would carry her.

* * * *

Ty shook his head to clear it. He tried to open his eyes again, but the piercing light hurt too much. Damn it, he hurt all over like a son of a bitch. It felt like someone had peeled off his skin and dipped him in alcohol. Jesus, it was hard to think through the pain. He couldn’t focus. Couldn’t concentrate. Had someone been here, or was he losing his fucking mind? He thought that a black-haired pixie had spoken to him. If he hadn’t been in such agony, he would have laughed at his own ridiculous fantasy. Maybe he was dead. Yeah, he was dead and she was an angel. An angel with midnight black hair, green eyes, and a voice like sweet rain. But that couldn’t be right. If he were dead, surely he wouldn’t hurt like a motherfucker.

He hoped like hell she had been real. She had promised him she’d come back. Promised to help. Right? But she wouldn’t bend down enough so that he could taste her, so that he could take a deep drink out of one of her luscious veins and slake the raging thirst that was driving him insane. Thirst and pain. Thirst and pain. If he could just get a few mouthfuls of blood, his body would begin to heal itself. He’d expended way too much energy trying to stop the sun from burning him to a crisp. Of course, if he didn’t get into shade pretty soon, blood—even sweet angel’s blood—wouldn’t do much damn good.

He was dying. He knew that. Dying for good this time. And if he didn’t get blood and shelter soon, it would be too late. For the past few hours he had been floating in and out of consciousness, struggling to hold on to his sanity. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to keep it together. Faces floated through his mind. And for a few moments of lucidity he identified them. Friends, family. And then other faces. A laughing man. A cruel face. And then the images slipped away. Again, he was lost in the pain and the thirst. He struggled, struggled to get free, but he was too weak. So damn weak. Blood would make him strong again. Blood would make him strong…but there was no blood.

Chapter Two

Libby was gasping for breath when she finally reached the cabin. She knew that there was no way she’d be able to get the poor man out of the forest without transportation. Thank God her truck was a four-wheel drive and should be able to handle the terrain without any trouble. It was old, and didn’t look the greatest, but it was still pretty reliable. She’d taken it through some rough spots before.

Digging around in her pocket, she found the keys. She opened the back hatch and grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the ice chest. As soon as she’d done that, she scrambled around and climbed into the driver’s seat. Reaching down, she felt around until her hand closed around the .38 revolver she’d bought last summer at a pawn shop near the beach.

Her hands were trembling slightly so she took a moment to take a deep breath and remind herself to chill out as she checked to make sure that it was loaded. As she dug in the glove compartment for extra bullets and put a handful in her pocket, she forced herself take her time and not get in too big a hurry. She was not going to do anyone any good, especially not that poor, wounded man, if she shot herself in the foot or crashed into a tree.
Come on, Libby. Silver lining, remember
. At least he wasn’t dead. Yet.

She knew she was going to be taking a bit of a chance driving the vehicle through the woods anyway. She couldn’t risk making a careless mistake.

Once she’d gotten everything settled, she cranked the vehicle and put it into gear. Starting off slowly, Libby eased her way around the trees and bushes she found in her path. But she was so worried that the man might be dying that she unconsciously sped up, which was a mistake because the car began sliding around through the loose pine needles that littered the ground. She forced herself to ease back on the accelerator. At one point the tires sank into some loose gravel, and she was afraid that she might be stuck, but the four-wheel drive kicked in, and, after a few heart-stopping moments, she was able to pull out. Slowing back down to what felt like a crawl, she finally spotted the clearing ahead.

She pulled up next to where the man was staked out, scared that he might have gotten worse in the time it had taken her to get back to him. Hopping down from the vehicle, she grabbed the gun and water and rushed over to the still figure on the ground.

“Hey, mister.” She sank down beside him. “I’m back. Please, are you still with me?”

At first he was completely unresponsive, and she was beginning to fear the worst, but finally his eyes fluttered and opened just a crack. His cracked lips parted, and in a husky voice he asked, “Are you an angel?”

She allowed herself a small smile, relieved that he seemed to be rational. Somewhat. She huffed out a choked laugh of relief. “Not according to my mother. I’m Libby. How are you doing?”

“Not too good. The sun hurts.” And a second later he added, “I’m thirsty.”

“Yes, yes, I brought some water.” She grabbed the bottle and held it to his mouth, putting her hand under his head to raise it. She dribbled the water across his lips, but he turned his head aside.

“No, no…not water. Need…drink…”

Libby didn’t know what to do. Was he getting delirious again? “Please, please, you have to drink something.”

“Yes, thirsty…” He licked his lips, so she tilted the water again, and again he turned away. “No…”

She set the water down and let his head settle gently back on the ground. She wanted to scream in frustration. What was she doing wrong? Damn! “Okay, look, mister, first thing’s first. I’m going to get you free of these chains, okay? Then we’ll see what else we need to do. We’ll get you to a doctor.”

“Not mister. Ty. I’m Ty.”

“Okay, Ty. Let’s get you loose.”

After setting the water aside, she picked up the gun and moved to his feet. She looked at him again. “Ty. I’m going to try to shoot the chains off. Don’t worry, okay. It’ll be loud, I know, but just trust me. I’m a pretty good shot. Just please stay very still.” She hoped like hell she sounded more confident than she felt. She was a pretty decent shot at the shooting range, but this was a little bit different. She didn’t feel nervous at the shooting range. If she missed there, she just got a sucky score. Here… She gulped. The consequences of failure didn’t bear thinking about.

Cautiously maneuvering the chains so that they were stretched out as far as she could get them, she took careful aim away from his ankle and fired. The sound of the shot echoed through the forest, and the man jumped at the noise, but when she looked, the chain lay broken in half on the ground.
Yes! Thank you, God
. Once she’d done the same to his other foot and both his hands, she took a moment to reload the gun with the extra bullets in her pocket. Better to be safe than sorry was another one of her mother’s favorite sayings, and she definitely agreed with her on that one, especially now. There was a chance that whoever had left this man here was still around. If they were, they would have heard the gunshots for sure. She needed to be prepared.

After she’d finished with the gun, she checked the man to see how he was doing. He didn’t move, and his utter stillness made her heart stutter. Had he fainted? “Mister—Ty. You’re free. Can you sit up?”

He stirred.
Thank you, Jesus
, she thought to herself. He seemed to summon his strength and his dry lips parted. “Try. I’ll try…”

“I’ll help you.” Libby tucked the gun into the waistband of her pants, put her hands behind him, and pushed. Between the two of them and a whole lot of effort, they finally got him sitting upright. He was a little wobbly, and Libby was afraid that he was going to fall over at any moment. Her arms ached. How in the hell was she going to get him into the truck if it was that hard just to get him sitting up? She looked at her vehicle. Maybe if she laid down the back seats, she could get him into a standing position and somehow get him into the back…yeah, that was the only option. She would not give up. No matter what. That stubborn streak again.

“Can you stay like this? Ty, can you stay sitting up? I’m going to move my truck, okay? So we can get you up in it. Just stay right here.” She felt a little bit like she was talking to a child, he was so completely helpless and dependent on her.

Leaving him sitting there, she climbed back into the SUV and maneuvered it so that the rear door was very near to where the man was swaying unsteadily. When she had the vehicle as close as she could safely get it, she shoved the gear shift into park but left the motor running. Quickly she laid the seats down so that the back area was one long space. She then moved everything she could out of the back compartment and stacked it into the front passenger seat. The rest she shoved to one side, clearing enough space for the man to lie down. He looked to be over six feet tall, but if she got him in slanted with his knees bent, she thought he’d fit okay.

She darted a quick look around to make sure she wasn’t about to be surprised by unexpected company, but the area remained empty except for the two of them. Surely whoever it was that had done this was long gone. If they’d still been around, they would have definitely heard the sounds of the gunshots. She felt a little better at that realization.

“Okay, Ty. I really need you to help me. We’ve got to get you up into the truck. Please, please. Try really hard, okay?”

He grunted when she squatted down beside him and took his arm to drape it across her shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go. On three. One, two, three.” She shoved and pulled, straining with all her might. He tried to help, bracing himself on her shoulder until he finally got up onto his knees. His other hand moved to the back bumper, and his eyes met hers. She could see the pain in his expression so she stopped. “Can you try to go again?”

“Just…a couple…minutes.” He rested in the shadow cast by the hatchback, and Libby thought he was breathing just a little bit easier.

“Okay. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Libby herself was shaking from the effort just to get him that far. Though he was trying his best, she was still having to shoulder a lot of his weight. She prided herself on her physical fitness, but she was still a fairly petite, slender woman, and he was a big man. Much bigger than he had looked lying on the ground, actually. Not just tall. His body was long and lean and deceptively lanky. Now she knew he was pretty solidly built as well. But she was not going to give up. And from the looks of it, he wasn’t either.