A Bloody London Sunset (Sunset Vampire #2) - Page 5

When Caleb's eyes fluttered open, the room wasn't as dark as before, and he realized from the dim glow that a lamp had been turned on somewhere across the room. He was lying on his stomach, and one side of his face was pressed into his pillow. Upon trying to move, he winced as his neck and upper back muscles ached in protest.

"Oh, crap," he moaned.

He rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. Feeling the bed jiggle slightly, he removed his hands to see Katrina staring down at him. She leaned over him with her hands planted on each side of his body and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Good morning, sleepy head," she greeted with a warm smile.

"Mm, morning," he murmured.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

His mind quickly recalled the events from the night before, and he frowned. "Oh, that's right. I think I'm okay."

She continued to hover over him as she studied his features, and he noticed she was already dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved turtleneck. "Wha-what time is it?" he stammered.

She glanced at the clock across the room. "Almost ten-thirty, my love."

"Geez!" he exclaimed. "I need to haul my butt out of bed then. I don't want be rude just lying here all day."

But she pressed her palm against his bare chest and pushed him gently back onto the bed. "No hurry, it's Saturday. And Gil only roused an hour ago," she reassured him.

He relaxed somewhat and studied her eyes for a moment. He could spend hours gazing into those beautiful orbs.

The corners of her mouth upturned slightly in amusement. He has that mesmerized expression again.

He deliberately blinked and looked past her face to regain his concentration. "What's next?" he asked.

"I called Alton last night after your outburst," she replied. She related how Alton had listened intently to her story of meeting Caleb as a child, as well as all the events that transpired, including taking the dead body of Caleb's father with her that night to bury him in an undisclosed location. Her former mentor had been very patient and waited until the very end to ask clarifying questions. Finally, he had remained so silent before speaking again that Katrina had feared he had hung up on her. He explained how tricky hypnosis was and ventured how difficult it might be to alter what she had done.

"Alton said he knows of a vampire in London who's a long-time practicing psychiatrist who might be able to help you," she said. "Although he'll have to provide details later. He suggested we might be able to address that when you and I visit him on our trip to England."

"That's kind of him, of course. But I'm curious what he said about our real initial meeting?" he asked pointedly.

Her expression was unreadable as she fell silent for a moment. "He was sympathetic, actually," she recalled. "But he was very intrigued and said that it answered a few questions he had about your and my relationship. I'm still not sure what he meant by that; he was terribly hedgy on the subject. But he did have a message for you."

Caleb's eyebrows rose. "Yeah?"

She smirked. "He used that term of his again. He said, 'Tell Caleb that, to be brutally honest, I'm concerned for him and want to help as much as possible.'"

He smiled at the use of their special phrase "brutally honest" to indicate the sincerity of his comments versus merely being polite. Katrina studied his reaction carefully and wondered if there were more to the message than what had been stated.

"That was very kind," he replied.

She decided not to press the topic. "You gave Paige a bit of a scare last night too. She's very concerned."

He grinned shyly. "Really? She's a good friend, and a great guardian. We're tight."

"Even closer, I think," Katrina observed and kissed him softly on the lips. But I'm okay with that level of friendship, she conceded fleetingly, so long as it remains a friendship.

"Hungry?" she asked.

"Sure!" he replied brightly.

She shook her head. "When are you not?"

He adopted a mock-insulted expression, and she used her hand to dishevel his hair even more than it already was. "Okay, now you need to get that cute butt of yours out of bed," she prompted with a sly smile.

"How about breakfast in bed?" he countered with a smirk.

She arched an eyebrow in a challenge and swiftly wrapped her right arm underneath and around his waist. Pulling him from the bed with a lurch, she swung his body around until his toes touched the carpeted floor. He nearly lost his breath and teetered unsteadily as he landed on his feet, but she steadied him with her arm still wrapped securely around him, for which he was grateful.

"Wha –" he started, but she crushed her lips to his.

His arms encircled her waist, and he pulled her towards his body as they kissed. "I'll be up soon," he promised.

She pressed against his body and countered, "I sense you're already up." What a nice way to start the day.

He flushed slightly regarding his body's excited reaction as she pulled deliberately away from him. She moved in a blur to appear at the top of the stairs, glancing back over her shoulder with a smirk. The door slid shut behind her, leaving him standing in silence.

"Damn, she's fast," he muttered with a grin, shaking his head.

After he showered, shaved and slipped into a pair of jeans and a Georgia State baseball sweatshirt, he proceeded upstairs and immediately smelled the fresh scent of pancakes. He smiled with sincere appreciation as he noticed Katrina flipping fresh pancakes over a griddle. Paige stood next to her, watching with an amused expression, while Gil sat at the kitchen bar counter eating a stack of three large flapjacks.

Katrina glanced at Caleb from over her shoulder as he walked closer to the stove. "Ready for some pancakes?"

Paige looked at him with a raised eyebrow and an expression of awe and asked, "When did all this cooking stuff start?"

He grinned. "Just recently. Kat's a great cook, actually."

Katrina smiled appreciatively as Paige reached out to pull Caleb into a sideways embrace with her left arm. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "How ya feeling this morning, kiddo?"

"Better, thanks," he offered as his right arm quickly slipped around her waist to complete the hug.

Katrina slipped three pancakes onto a large plate and handed it to him. "Eat up," she quipped.

"Mmm," he hummed, and plopped onto a barstool next to Gil. "Morning, Gil. How'd you sleep?"

Gil's eyes played over to Caleb's fresh pancakes, and he looked back over his shoulder at Katrina.

She anticipated his request and asked, "How many, Gil?"

"Three, please," he replied gratefully before returning his attention to Caleb. "A good night for me last night. Pretty sore in some places when I woke up, though. But it was the good kind of sore I wouldn't pass up again tonight, if you catch my drift."

Paige shook her head as she moved across the kitchen to fill a drinking glass with water. She sat the glass down in front of Caleb while glaring at Gil. "A little too much info, Gil."

Caleb smirked as he drizzled syrup on his pancakes. "Couldn't agree more, Paige." He dug into his pancakes with a vengeance and complimented his mate, "These are great, Kat!"

She neatly slipped a fresh stack of pancakes on Gil's plate with her large spatula and lightly ran her fingernails down the back of Caleb's neck in silent response, causing him to shiver pleasurably.

"Yeah, these are good, Katrina," Gil offered. "Thanks."

Paige used Caleb's momentary distraction to slip a forkful of his syrupy pancakes into her mouth with an appraising expression. "Tasty, actually," she offered with surprise.

"Want some?" Katrina asked her with a smirk.

"Make 'em with blood, and I'll consider it," the spunky vampire replied.

"Major gross," Gil muttered around a mouthful of pancake.

Paige popped him playfully on the back of the head with the flat of her hand and teased, "Ha! Just wait until you try burning some stinky dead animal meat in my kitchen again."

"So, what are we doing today?" Caleb asked.

"How about we go around town and take in some sites?" Gil suggested. "We can all hang out together."

Caleb stopped chewing and looked sidelong at the young man with upraised eyebrows while Paige just rolled her eyes.

"The ladies are vampires, Gil," Caleb reminded him. "Remember? Sunlight bad, nighttime good?"

"Oh, yeah," Gil replied foggily. "Sorry, they just seem so normal that I forgot about that."

Katrina gazed wide-eyed at Paige, who slowly reached out her hand towards Gil's neck from behind him as if to choke him while glaring into the back of his head.

"How long have you known Paige exactly?" Caleb asked warily while noting Paige's reaction out of his peripheral vision.

"Oh, just a few weeks now," Gil replied as he continued eating his pancakes, oblivious to the shaking motion Paige was making with her closed fist behind his head.

Katrina stifled a laugh and interjected, "Maybe Caleb can take Gil out for the day to scope out some activities for tonight."

"Please, take him away already," Paige muttered.

Gil chuckled, not realizing Paige was actually annoyed with him.

Caleb defrayed any further aggravation on Paige's part by offering, "I'll show Gil some of downtown. Like Kat suggested, we'll locate some potential hot spots for this evening. How's that?"

Before long, the two men were on their way. To Caleb's satisfaction, Katrina had been kind enough to let them take her Audi out for the day. He drove them past a number of areas of interest in the Atlanta area, including some historic plantation homes, museums, the Centennial Olympic Park, Civil War locations, the Atlanta Zoo, and a host of other noteworthy attractions. He stopped at a number of interesting locations with the hopes of piquing his West Coast visitor's interest. However, Gil seemed most intrigued by the heart of the city itself and was curious about the locations of some of the city's most popular clubs, particularly ones catering to alternative rock.

By mid-afternoon, Gil asked to stop at a bar or pub to grab a beer and a bite to eat. Caleb began a quick search on the car's GPS for possible locations, but Gil pointed to a random bar just up the street. Caleb realized that they weren't in the safest part of town, but relented after sensing the enthusiasm in Gil's demeanor. The bar was a reasonably maintained establishment called Brandy's whose parking lot teemed with sport utility vehicles and pickup trucks. In fact, Caleb took note of the fact that their sports car was the only actual car in the parking lot. A large-framed fellow with mustache and crew cut parked beside them and gave them a long, wary look as he walked past their car to head into the bar.

By the time the two of them crossed over the threshold of the front door, Caleb wondered how poor a choice they had made. The customers consisted mainly of what appeared to be gritty, hard-nosed types. Even the furniture looked nearly as worn and hard as the clientele, relegated to a variety of scratched oak tables and chairs that looked as though it was generations since they had been refinished. The stools lining the worn-looking bar were vinyl-covered, though most had cracks and tears in the material.

George Strait blared from a jukebox across the room, and some older model televisions mounted above the bar displayed rodeo, monster truck, and boxing events. Most of the faces in the room looked up at the two newest patrons with expressions ranging from amusement, to wariness, and even mild disgust. Obviously, despite the inclusion of their leather jackets, Caleb's college sweatshirt and Gil's Green Day concert t-shirt failed to impress anyone.

"We should go," Caleb urged with a wary expression.

"No way man, I'm thirsty," the suddenly willful young man from California retorted as he strode purposefully up to one of the available wooden tables. He pulled out a worn chair and plopped down.

"Just great," Caleb muttered as he followed and pulled up a wooden chair opposite him.

A short, blonde waitress who appeared in her forties wearing faded jeans and a polo shirt with the bar's name on it stopped by their table with a slightly raised eyebrow. "You two stayin'?"

Caleb looked across the table at Gil, who was taking in the decor in the room and sighed. He glanced at the waitress, noted her nametag and replied, "Well Peggy, it kind of seems that way."

The woman shrugged. "Just thought I'd better ask first. What can I get you?"

Gil immediately popped up with an order for a Modelo Especial on tap, and Caleb ordered a bottle of Samuel Adams.

"I'll be back in a minute," the waitress responded. "Menus are on the table."

As Caleb reached for one of the worn-looking menus, he heard a chortle from the table next to theirs where three burly, rough-looking guys were sitting, including the large-framed man with the mustache who had preceded them into the bar. Their laughing was followed by a deep voice razzing, "Hear that, Wes? No salt or lime to go with that Modelo for the punk-rocker."

A round of chuckling ensued, including some cursing, followed by the response, "Hell, I haven't heard about anyone ordering old Sam Adams since he died at the Alamo!"

The history professor personality inside Caleb cringed painfully. It always incensed him when people made such inaccurate historical references. Still, it wasn't as if the guy would care to know that Sam Adams was actually a reference to Samuel Adams, a prominent founding father from the American Revolution. It would just escalate tensions, which was precisely what Caleb didn't need at the moment.

"Well, ya' old bastard, I guess you'd know since you were there!" another teased.

A round of laughter ensued, followed by the thumping of empty beer mugs on a tabletop. One fellow boomed, "Peggy! Another round of Buds for the real working men over here!"

The waitress appeared with Caleb's and Gil's beers, plopped them onto the table, and barked at the men, "Keep your shirts on. I'll get to you in a minute!"

The men grumbled and returned to talking shop.

Peggy's demeanor became somewhat more professional as she regarded Caleb. "You boys ready to order something from the menu?"

"Any recommendations?" Caleb asked with a hopeful expression.

She regarded him with a sober expression and suggested, "Drink here, eat somewhere else."

"Maybe just a burger, well-done, and some fries, please," he requested politely as the waitress scribbled on a small notepad.

Peggy looked at Gil. "And for you?"

Gil's face turned oddly introspective. "So, about the nacho platter. Is it pretty good?"

Her expression turned a mix of sour and amused, and she retorted, "You been to the state fair before and ordered nachos?"

Gil shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Well, these ain't as good as those," she replied.

Gil frowned with distaste and offered, "Uh, yeah. Well, I'll just have the same as him, well-done on the burger, too."

The waitress smirked as she wrote on her pad, and then silently walked back towards the kitchen. Gil and Caleb simultaneously exchanged curious glances, and one of the burly fellows at the nearest table muttered to his buddies, "Five dollars says they can't even finish eatin' those greasy burgers."

Caleb ignored the comment, took a swig of his beer and asked, "So Gil, what do you think of Paige so far?"

The rocker considered his question. "Well, she's a free spirit, you know. But I like her, and she's a hell of a lot of fun out clubbing. And damn, she rocks that body, man. But you probably already know that, eh?"

Caleb frowned. "Not really, Gil. I haven't been out clubbing with Paige. At least, not yet. She keeps threatening to get me out on the town, though. And as for rocking her body, we're almost like family, you know. She means a lot to me, but we're not like that."

Gil glowered and took a long pull from his beer.

"What?" Caleb pressed.

"Well, it's just the way you two act," Gil began carefully. "Listen, I ain't an idiot, Caleb. You're not her family, after all, no matter what she says about being like a sister and all that. And then there's the way she pressed against you last night. Damn, Caleb. My buddy Skeet has a sister, and they don't look at each other the way Paige does you. Although Skeet and his sister aren't all that close, I guess. Hell, I don't know. I just know nobody ever looked at me like that before, dude."

Caleb felt a pang of concern run through him.

"Gil, you've got it all wrong," he countered. "Paige, she's really more like a sister to me. I mean, I really care about her. But I'm not a threat to you and her. It's cool."

Gil took another swig of his beer and cast a glance to the men at the nearby table who were distracted with fresh beers from Peggy. He regarded Caleb with a more relaxed expression and grinned, "Hey, no problem, Caleb. I get it."

But he sensed something from Gil and lowered his voice as he leaned across the table. "No Gil, you don't. You've got it all wrong about Paige. She's like my guardian angel, a protector. I mean, she's saved my life on at least two separate occasions since last fall. I owe her my life, for God's sake. But I want her to be happy, and if you do that for her, then I'm all for it. Got it?"

Gil responded with a quick nod and half-grin before being distracted by something across the room.

Caleb observed him looking pointedly at the old jukebox along the back wall and watched him get up from his seat. He immediately suggested, "Hey Gil, I'd just leave well enough alone there if I were you. We'll finish eating and head out of here, okay?"

But Gil seemed determined and insisted, "Man, this lame bumpkin scene is killing me. We're gonna change the sound around here, at least while we're stuffin' our faces."

Caleb just shook his head and watched as the young man strode confidently over to the old jukebox and sorted through the available titles. He fed dollar bills into the jukebox, and there was a pause as titles loaded. In a matter of moments, hard rock began to play, starting no less than with Green Day's "When I Come Around."

"Just great," Caleb remarked under his breath before taking a swallow of beer and casting a wary glance at the rowdy fellows seated nearby. The men were talking, but paused as the music blared. Their narrowed eyes followed Gil all the way back to the table, glaring at him as he sat down.

"Friggin' punk rock shit," one of the men growled. "I told Butch he shoulda kicked that damned old jukebox to the curb years ago if he wasn't going to pack it with more country."

Caleb took a swig of beer and silently considered how quickly they could make it to the exits if things turned ugly. Fortunately, the men seemed to be content to just curse and complain, rather than take any action.

Moments later, Peggy arrived with their burgers and fresh beers, and she seemed more upbeat for some reason.

"Here's the burgers, guys," she announced. "And good job on the music. Nice to hear something else besides George Strait or Brooks and Dunn for a change."

She departed quickly, leaving Caleb and Gil exchanging surprised expressions. Both shrugged and returned to their burgers and beers. Everything seemed more sedate for a short time until they were almost done eating. That's when the three guys at the nearby table divvied up money to pay and rose to leave. Each of them made a point to brush up against either Caleb's or Gil's chairs while walking past.

"Friggin' yuppies," grumbled the man with the dark bushy mustache and crew cut as he banged into the back of Caleb's chair while passing.

Caleb discreetly rolled his eyes at the comment. It wasn't as if either he or Gil looked anything like young urban professionals, particularly dressed as they were. Ignorance is definitely bliss with some people.

"Redneck bastard," Gil muttered under his breath as the guy walked away.

The man turned abruptly to grimace at Gil, demanding, "What was that, punker?"

Gil swallowed his bite of burger and started to say something, but Caleb cut him off with, "He said 'better eat faster,' that's all."

The burly fellow sneered, shook his head, and cursed under his breath while continuing to the door to leave. Caleb relaxed somewhat once the last man walked out and looked over at Gil with barely contained contempt.

"Are you anxious for a bar fight or something?" he chastised. "Those guys are just blowhards. Geez, let's just eat and get the hell out of here."

Within minutes, Caleb finished his beer, and both of them declined another refill when the waitress stopped by with their bill.

"I hope you weren't bothered by those guys who were in here," Peggy suggested. "They're just a bunch of complainers who usually shoot off their mouths. Butch, the owner, threatens to ban them from this place, and they usually simmer down."

Caleb thanked her and took care of the check with cash, making sure to leave a generous tip for Peggy. Barely ten minutes after their biggest fans had left, Caleb and Gil were exiting the bar out to what was a sunny, warmer-than-expected February afternoon.

"Gil, next time, I get to pick the bar," Caleb remarked absently.

Everything seemed fine, until they spotted the three troublemakers from the bar standing around Katrina's car at the side of the building where they had parked. Caleb shook his head in near disbelief as he stared at the throng of men, only to realize the guy with the mustache and crew cut was relieving himself onto the Audi's right rear tire.

A surge of anger ran through him, but he managed to keep himself in check as he walked slowly towards their car. The man zipped up his jeans, and all three men started laughing as they cast incendiary glances towards Caleb and Gil.

"Hey, assholes!" Gil snapped as he walked a little faster than Caleb towards the car.

"Just get in the car, Gil," Caleb warned, deactivating the alarm with the key remote.

But Gil was already approaching the three men with his fists balled up tightly.

Caleb swore under his breath as the mustached man barreled forward while Gil shifted next to the car. Gil barely had time to lift his fist before the man punched him in the gut, causing him to double over.

"Aw, crap," Caleb growled as the other two men moved deliberately towards him.

Everything happened so fast after that. Caleb barely realized that one of the two men had swung towards him, but he managed to pivot his body, only catching a glancing blow to the left side of his head.

Something shot through him, like a cross between a flashback and an electrical surge. The memory of Devon Archibald's attack on him at the wildlife preserve replayed in his head like a lightning flash. Only this time, instead of fear, he felt intense anger and resentment. He was tired of being attacked, and since these guys weren't vampires, an important notion occurred to him: they were only human, which made them beatable.

Reactions began to flow in his body without the need to think as some of the combat training Katrina had drilled into his head activated. Of the two men approaching him, the second fellow, a red-haired man, aimed his fist at Caleb's stomach while his buddy recovered his balance from the initial missed punch. But Caleb grabbed the red-haired man's forearm with his left hand while slamming his clenched fist into the front of the man's throat. The assailant immediately gasped with a choking sound, and fell forward onto his knees onto the asphalt parking lot.

The first man, a bearded guy with curly hair, recovered and punched Caleb in the lower back around his kidneys. Pain shot through him, but it was bearable and nothing like the pain from Devon's assault, so he had enough stamina to whirl and catch the man in the side of the nose with the back of his right elbow. Caleb heard a crunching sound as his elbow slammed into the bearded man's face, followed by a shriek as the guy reached up to cup his face with both hands.

One glance at Gil revealed he was quickly losing in the brief melee of fists flailing between the two men. The mustached man made a quick punch to Gil's jaw, sending him banging into the side of a beat-up old pickup parked next their car. The young rocker slumped groggily down to the asphalt after that.

Caleb rushed forwards to side-kick at the mustached man's left knee, sending the yelling thug to the ground. Caleb landed punches against the left side of the guy's head and jaw, requiring only three sharp blows before the guy fell unconscious onto the blacktop with a heavy thump.

Caleb was spun around from behind, glimpsing the red-haired man who he'd hit in the nose with his elbow. Blood still ran down the guy's mouth and chin as his fist landed against the left side of Caleb's face, popping his head backwards. The man weighed into Caleb with a left blow to his ribs, but Caleb maintained concentration on retaliating by foot-sweeping him. As the red-haired man fell backwards, Caleb slammed the flat of his foot into his head, knocking it back against the pavement with a thud. All the fight ebbed from the thug as he rolled onto his side moaning and grasping at the back of his head.

Caleb breathed heavily while glancing around for witnesses as he grasped Gil by his arm and helped to steady him as he rose. Gil shook his head slightly, seeming to recover his wits and looked at Caleb with a surprised expression.

"Where the hell did you –"

"Just get in the damned car!" Caleb yelled as he felt warm blood running down into his left eye.

"Shit, no, dude! I better drive," Gil insisted as he picked up the keys from the pavement near the front of the car. "Dude, your face is bleeding wicked bad."

Caleb cursed and fell into the passenger seat of the car as Gil raced around to the other side, hopped into the driver's seat, and revved the engine. He peeled out of the parking lot and into the late afternoon light traffic.

"Shit! I'm not even sure which way is home," he complained.

Caleb managed to remove his blood-covered sweatshirt, wadded it up, and used it to press against the bleeding side of his face as he attempted to discern their location. He glanced at the GPS, punched the preset for home, and barked, "Just follow the GPS!"

"Okay, just chill," Gil snapped. "Don't get all cracked out on me, dude."

Caleb grumbled under his breath, wishing he had some ibuprofen or something for the pounding in his head. He shifted slightly in the seat to test his back and ribs, but didn't think anything felt broken or out of place. Still, most of his body ached, and his right knuckles were throbbing. He glanced sidelong at Gil, who had a bloody lip and bruises on his face, but otherwise seemed okay. What a sight-seeing trip, he thought darkly. Katrina's sure as hell not going to be happy about this, he considered as an afterthought.

It only took about twenty minutes for them to make it back to the estate, though that was partly due to the fact that Gil enjoyed speeding down the highway at any opportunity. They lurched into the driveway, and Caleb activated the garage door opener, muttering, "Just leave the car out. We have to hose down the tire and fender, remember?"

"Yeah, sure," Gil replied absently as they got out of the car and walked into the garage.

Katrina and Paige sat in the living room at the back of the house sipping glasses of warm blood and discussing the prospects of the prospective territorial claims needing to be declared by Katrina around Atlanta. The quiet was broken as Gil burst into the kitchen, announcing grandly, "Ladies, your knights have returned! Hey, Katrina! Your car is one bitchin' machine!"

Both vampires cast curious glances at each another and turned to stare at Gil as he walked into the living room. Gil hastily tossed the car keys across the room towards Katrina, who neatly caught them in one hand over her head without even glancing at them. Both vampires were transfixed, studying the bruises and cuts on Gil's face. Paige finally demanded, "What the hell happened to you?"

"Oh, shit, man," Gil began excitedly. "We just got a beer and burger, and so these three rednecks were bitching about our music. Then…"

While Gil rambled about their adventure, Caleb sneaked behind and past him through the kitchen and made his way down the main hallway to the sublevel chamber where he could clean up and tend to his bleeding face.

As Gil rambled on, both vampires abruptly sniffed the air, and Katrina cast a sidelong glance at Paige with a knowing look in her eyes. Caleb's blood, she determined.

Paige seemed to sense the same conclusion, because she jumped up from the couch and held up her hand for Gil to stop talking. "Wait!" she insisted. "Where's Caleb?"

"Caleb?" Gil asked. "I dunno. Maybe he's hosing off the car tire."

She frowned with confusion, but Katrina already sped past her and was following the blood scent trail through the house.

"Car tire?" Paige asked with narrowed eyes. "Why would he –"

"One of those assholes peed on the car," Gil explained.

Paige sighed and demanded, "Where were you two again?"

Gil started to speak, but Paige grabbed him by the arm and led him into the kitchen saying, "Never mind. Let's get you cleaned up first. And don't bleed all over the new carpet; Katrina's had it less for than a month."

Caleb removed his bloody t-shirt and dropped it to the tile floor atop his blood-soaked sweatshirt. As he washed his face in cold water, the bathroom door knob rattled. Then came an immediate knocking sound and Katrina's voice.

"Caleb? Caleb, are you okay?" she insisted with concern.

"Fine. Everything's fine," he reassured her, &qu