Darkness Dawns by Dianne Duvall Read Free Book Online Page A

him up and made him more comfortable. He would have just bitched and moaned over his sleep being disrupted and given him blood.
    Roland’s imagination temporarily soared with images of her touching his bare body while he had slept.
    If only he could have remained conscious.
    Sarah worried her lower lip and clasped her hands in front of her, suddenly appearing uncertain.
    He frowned. “What is it?”
    “I’ve been trying to figure out a tactful way to ask you something….”
    Oh shit.
Had his fangs descended while he was unconscious? A hasty feel with his tongue reassured him that they were receded, as they should be. But if she had seen his fangs earlier, it would explain why she seemed so uneasy.
    “Forget tact,” he told her, wondering how he would respond if she asked him if he were a vampire. “Just ask.”
    Nodding, she drew in a deep breath, then blurted out, “Are you HIV positive?”
    His eyebrows flew up. Not what he had been expecting. “No.”
    “Are you sure? Because a lot of people who have it don’t know they have it.”
    “I’m 100 percent sure. No HIV. No hepatitis. Nothing. I’m clean.”
    The tension left her as she gave him a relieved smile. “Thank goodness.”
    Considering how much contact she had had with his blood, he could understand her concern, especially if she had any open wounds of her own.
    Again he frowned. “Were you injured, Sarah?”
    Wrinkling her nose, she held up her hands to show him scratched and abraded palms. It also allowed him tosee her scraped elbow. “I forgot all about it until after I finished cleaning you up. And when I saw it … I admit I got a little worried.”
    Roland slowly sat up, clenching his teeth when the movement made it feel as if he were being stabbed anew in the stomach.
    “What are you doing?” she asked as he swiveled and lowered his feet to the floor, ensuring the sheet continued to cover him to the waist.
    Once the pain had subsided enough for him to unlock his jaw, he motioned to the empty space beside him. “Sit with me for a moment.” It was more a question than an order.
    A sweet shyness entered her features as she obligingly sat next to him.
    Roland took her hands in his and turned them palms up so he could study the angry red marks. “What happened?”
    “Something knocked me down in the meadow before I found you,” she answered. “It was so big and moved so fast I thought it was a bear, but …” She tilted her head to one side, drawing his gaze to hers. “Was it you? And the others?”
    It must have been. He didn’t recall seeing her or bumping into her. But, when fighting three vampires (he had already dispatched four at that point) and traveling at preternatural speeds, the details of one’s surroundings could sometimes blur.
    “I don’t know. I was focused on my opponents and saw little else.”
    Spying what was left of her first aid supplies on the coffee table, he released her hands, picked up a half-empty bottle of witch hazel, and snagged a clean cloth.
    “Did I miss a wound?” she asked, her eyes roving his exposed skin.
    Roland gave his chest and arms a cursory inspection. “Not as far as I can tell.” Thanks to her ministrations, he would heal more swiftly when he fed.
    The lid came free easily. Dampening the cloth, he returned the witch hazel to the coffee table.
    “Then what are you …?”
    Her words faltered as he reclaimed one of her dainty hands and gently cleansed her palm.
    “Oh. Oh, no. No, no, Roland, you don’t have to do that.”
    “Yes, I do,” he responded, quiet but determined.
    This woman had knocked out two men bent on torturing him to death, unstaked him, helped him up, dragged him a hundred yards uphill, welcomed him into her home, given him shelter for the day, and cleaned and bandaged his wounds.
    He
wanted
to do this for her.
    Sarah’s heart turned over as she watched him painstakingly tend her abrasions. Her hand looked so small cradled in his.
    She really had forgotten about the