Kerrelyn Sparks: Sexiest Vampire Alive

But it wasn’t going well. Plan A had been a miserable failure. He’d based it on the premise that their squabble had been unimportant in the big scheme of things. They loved each other, so any minor disappointments could be easily smoothed over.

He called to see if she’d arrived home safely. She wouldn’t pick up his calls. He left cheerful messages and sent flowers to her at the White House. Sent candy to her office. Sent more flowers and a fruit basket to her mother’s room at the hospital. Left more cheerful messages with assurances that he loved her and had every confidence they could weather this minor storm.

He got an inkling that it wasn’t working when the flowers were returned ground into mulch.

Undeterred, he moved swiftly on to Plan B—holding her plants hostage until she agreed to meet him. He sent more text messages, reminding her that her Tiger Paw plants were at Romatech. He was taking good care of them. And she could come pick them up some evening. Or he could deliver them to her personally at her lab.

No response.

He’d felt sure Plan B would work. Didn’t she want the damned plants? Didn’t she want to help her mother? He saw on the news that the first lady was failing fast.

Abigail felt betrayed. He realized that now. And his only hope at winning her back was Plan C.

He dropped the stress ball on his desk, picked up the small package he’d prepared for her, and slipped it inside a coat pocket. He’d waited till it was three in the morning, assuming the hospital would be quiet and free from visitors.

“Good luck,” he murmured to himself, and teleported to Belinda Tucker’s hospital room.

It was dark, except for the lights of the monitor screens. The first lady lay in her bed asleep, her face pale.

Across the private room, he saw Abigail sleeping on a couch. Dark circles smudged her eyes, and her nose looked red as if she’d been crying too much.

“I’m sorry, Abby,” he whispered.

In the corner, a young man was sprawled on an easy chair, also sleeping. Gregori recognized him as Abby’s brother, Lincoln.

Sleep. He directed a mental command at both Abby and her brother. He couldn’t afford to have them wake up until Plan C was fully implemented.

The door opened and a male nurse walked in. He was a young man, dressed in white, with blond curly hair. He didn’t look alarmed at the sight of Gregori.

He smiled. “How may I help you?”

Gregori shot a spurt of mind control at him, but wasn’t sure he was getting through. “I want to give blood to her.” He motioned to Belinda. “A direct transfusion. My blood type is the same as hers.” He’d been drinking nothing but Type O for several nights to make sure he matched up.

The nurse inclined his head. “I will do as you ask.”

“Good.” He must have the nurse under his control after all. He took off his coat and laid it on the coffee table close to Abigail.

The nurse inserted a needle into Belinda’s left arm, since her right arm was connected to an IV. “Bring a chair over here.”

Gregori carried a lightweight plastic chair over to the other side of the bed. He sat and rolled up his sleeve.

The nurse rubbed alcohol on the crook of his elbow, then inserted a needle. Soon, blood was streaming through a tube into Belinda.

After about ten minutes, her face took on some color. She opened her eyes, saw the nurse, and smiled. “You came back.”

“Yes.” The nurse nodded, smiling back at her. “And someone else has come to help you.”

Her eyes widened when she noticed Gregori. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to help.”

Her gaze shifted to the tube inserted in her arm. “You’re giving me vampire blood?” She stiffened. “I won’t become a vampire, will I?”

“No,” Gregori assured her. “It won’t harm you in any way.”

“You will be fine,” the nurse said softly. “Trust me.”

“I do,” she replied.

The nurse smiled and motioned toward Gregori. “You can trust him, too.”

Belinda gave him a curious look.

“This will be enough.” The nurse disconnected them, then smoothed a bandage over Belinda’s puncture. He stuck another bandage on Gregori’s arm.

“Thank you.” Gregori rolled down his sleeve.

Belinda looked over at Abigail asleep on the couch, then turned back to Gregori. “You broke her heart.”

“I know. I’m . . . trying to mend it.”

“By mending me?” She smiled. “I do feel much better.”

“I’m glad.” He sighed. “I should have helped you earlier. I’m sorry.”

“Abby told me you were trying to protect your people, that you feared they would be hunted down for their blood.”

He nodded. “I was afraid to trust her.”

“I can understand that. I know from being close to my husband that it can be a heavy burden when the safety of so many people depends on your decisions. You must have felt torn between two worlds.”

“Abigail is my world. I know that now.” He glanced at her on the couch. “I would do anything for her.”

Belinda took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I have to admit I wasn’t thrilled when I realized she was in love with you. But the more she talked about you, the more I understood why she fell for you.”

He felt a surge of hope. “She speaks well of me?”

Belinda smiled. “On and off. She’s been very angry, but as much as she fusses about you, she defends you at the same time. She said you saved her life. You stepped in front of her and took two daggers in the back that were meant for her.”

Gregori nodded. “I love her.”

Belinda reached over and patted his hand. “If you can win her back, you will have my blessing.”

“Thank you.” He squeezed her hand, then stood. “I have something for Abby. Can you make sure she gets it?” He removed the package from his coat pocket and handed it to Belinda.

“Thank you, Gregori. Thank you for bringing her home safely.”

He nodded. “Good night.” He put on his coat and noticed the nurse was still there, standing by the door. “Thank you for your help.” He started to release him from mind control, then realized it wasn’t there.

The nurse inclined his head. “God be with you.”

“You too.” He glanced at the nurse’s name tag. Buniel . He stepped back, inhaling sharply. “You—you—”

Buniel’s eyes twinkled with humor. “Yes?”

“You’re Marielle’s friend. She told us about you.” Gregori ran a hand through his hair. “Shit—I mean, sorry.” Damn, he’d just cursed in front of an angel. “Aren’t you a healing angel?”

“A Healer, yes.”

“Well . . . darn.” He motioned toward Belinda, who had fallen asleep. “Why haven’t you healed her? She was close to death when I got here.”

Buniel arched a brow. “I am aware of her condition. I’ve been keeping her alive.”

“But you could have healed her. And then I wouldn’t have needed to give my blood.”

“But you did need to give it. You needed to learn how to trust.” The angel motioned to Abigail. “And she needs to learn how to forgive. It is better this way, don’t you think?”

“Well . . . maybe.” Gregori looked at Abigail. “You mean she’ll forgive me now?” He glanced back at the angel, but he was gone.

Gregori sighed. “Say hello to Father Andrew for me.”

Abigail woke at the sound of her mother calling her.

“Mom?” She scrambled off the couch and rushed to the hospital bed. “What’s wrong? Shall I call for the nurse? Is it time for more medication?” She glanced at her watch. It was four in the morning.

“Abby, look at me.”

She blinked when she realized her mother was sitting up. And her cheeks were rosy. “Mom, what happened?”