Runaway Vampire (Argeneau, #23)

“What’s happening? Is he—?”

“He’ll be fine,” the tall, gruff voiced fellow assured her. She noted puncture marks on his neck as he sidestepped her to head toward the restaurant, but got distracted by his words when he added, “The blood was more show than damage.”

Mary stared after him with disbelief. The amount of blood she’d seen had been more than show. It had looked like he’d bled out all over her floor. In fact, she hadn’t dared looked at his face when she’d led the doctors inside, afraid she’d find herself looking at eyes glazed over with death.

Much to her relief the sound of a siren in the distance distracted her then and Mary turned her head to peer along the road. Spotting the flashing lights, she swallowed and moved forward, ready to flag down the vehicle and wave it over the moment it pulled in. The ambulance was just turning into the lot when movement out of the corner of her eye made Mary glance back toward the RV. Another man had come out of the RV and was returning to the restaurant. Like the others, he looked calm and untroubled, but Mary didn’t have time to worry about it, as the ambulance was coming to a halt before her and two men were jumping out.

“Are you the one who called?” the man who had been driving asked as they approached her.

Mary shook her head. “The waitress did for me.”

The driver nodded, his gaze sliding over her. “What seems to be the problem? Chest pains? Problems breathing?”

Mary waved the suggestion away and turned to head back toward the RV, explaining, “No. I’m fine. But I hit someone with the RV and he was badly injured. There are doctors with him now, but—”

Mary paused both in speaking and walking. She’d glanced over her shoulder to see that she’d lost the EMTs. Both men had rushed back toward the ambulance. She stared after them, relieved when she realized they were just getting their gear. They were quick about it now that they knew the situation and seconds later were wheeling a stretcher toward her with several items stacked on top of it. A strapped spine board was on the bottom, with a neck collar, an orange bag with the medical symbol on it, and a defibrillator on top. The sight of the spine board and collar made her realize the naked man in her RV probably shouldn’t have been moved until it was determined that he hadn’t broken his neck or back. But she was sure the doctor had seen to that before she’d called the men in from the restaurant to move him to the bed. At least that’s what she was assuming they’d been brought out for. She had no idea why they’d left one at a time rather than all together after accomplishing the task.

The EMTs were moving quickly now and Mary had to jog to keep ahead of them.

“Who’s the doctor with the victim?” the driver asked suddenly.

“There are two of them, a husband and wife. I think she said Jenner or something,” Mary muttered, trying to recall. She’d been in a bit of a state at the time.

“Jenson?” the other EMT asked as Mary paused at the RV door and started to open it.

“Yes, that might be it,” Mary admitted, then glanced around with surprise as the last of the four men from the restaurant came out the door she’d just opened and started down the steps.

She noted a mark and smear of blood on his throat, then glanced distractedly back to the ambulance driver when he said, “Your friend’s lucky then. The Jensons are top notch,” he announced and then hurried up the steps as the exiting man got out of the way.

“He’s right,” the second EMT assured her as he followed. He also closed the door behind him, making it obvious they didn’t expect her to follow.

Mary let her breath out on a sigh, but didn’t really mind being left outside again. There wasn’t a lot of room in there, and despite the reassurances from the men who had left the RV, she really didn’t think all that blood was just show. Besides, now that she was thinking about what she’d seen in her first glimpse of the man, she was quite sure there had been something odd about his chest. Aside from the muddy tire track across it, it had seemed a bit misshaped or flattened. And she thought one of his legs had been as well.

Muttering worriedly under her breath, Mary moved closer to where Bailey had curled up on the pavement and patted her head when the German shepherd promptly stood at attention beside her.

“It’ll be fine,” she repeated the mantra reassuringly, and just wished she believed that.