Amanda Ashley (21 page)

“Why didn't you tell me this before?”

“I don't know.”

Kara shook her head. “It's not possible.”

“It's very possible. It appears your blood now contains the same healing agent as mine, whatever that might be. That's why Barrett needs you. I think he wants to try and isolate whatever it is that generates the healing. Don't you see? If he can mass produce it, he'll be a millionaire many times over. And if he can't . . .”

“And if he can't, he'll just take my blood a little at a time and sell it to the highest bidder.”

Alex nodded.

Kara shuddered. It was a frightening thought. For a moment, she imagined herself kept in a cage, well-fed and well-cared for, but a prisoner nonetheless, kept in isolation while Barrett siphoned off her blood, selling it a little at a time while he tried to find a way to reproduce it.

“It's a frightening thing to consider, isn't it?” Alex asked quietly.

“Yes.” She understood now why he had kept to himself, why he had never let anyone know what he was.

“Now do you understand why I can't let you go home?”

“I have to go, Alex. I have to help Nana if I can. Please try to understand.”

Short of locking her up inside the mountain, there was no way to stop her. “All right, Kara,” Alex
said heavily, “I'll take you home.”

She collapsed against him, her shoulders heaving as sobs wracked her body.

“Don't cry,
natayah,
” he murmured. “Please don't cry. You shall go home.”

“Thank you, Alex.”

He nodded. “We'll leave tomorrow as soon as it's dark.” Holding her away from him, he wiped away her tears with his fingertips; then, taking her hand in his, they walked back to the car.

Gail's footsteps were heavy as she walked home from school. She had called the hospital last night after she'd talked to Kara. The nurse had assured her that Nana was resting comfortably.

Turning down the street toward her house, she wondered when Kara would get home, and where she'd been for the last five weeks.

She frowned when she saw the dark blue car parked in the driveway. Barrett again. He came by every day to ask if Kara had called. She wasn't sure, but she thought she'd seen that same car following her to and from school.

Gail muttered a nasty word. She didn't like Barrett, even though he'd never said or done anything to earn her dislike. She didn't like him and she didn't trust him any more than she trusted those two men who were always with him. Their names were Kelsey and Handeland. Barrett said they were his associates. She wasn't sure what that meant, but she didn't like the sound of it at all. The two men were always wandering through the house, looking in the closets, poking into drawers, rummaging through Nana's desk. Several times a day, they walked through the neighborhood. She knew
they were looking for Kara.

Barrett was sitting on the sofa, talking to Mrs. Zimmermann, when Gail entered the house. She didn't see his associates, so she assumed they were outside, prowling around the neighborhood.

“Ah, Gail,” he said. “There you are.”

“Hello.”

He smiled at her, ignoring her sullen expression. “Still no word from Kara?”

“No.”

He nodded slowly. “I hope she calls soon. Every day without treatment only decreases your sister's chances of a full recovery.”

“What does she need to recover from?”

“As I told you before, we found a gross abnormality in her red blood cells. I'm afraid it may prove fatal.” He shook his head. “Her condition could also prove to be contagious.” He smiled his oily smile. “If you come into contact with her, you might also be at risk.” His gaze bored into hers. “Are you sure she hasn't called home?”

“I'm sure.” Gail held his gaze as long as she could, wondering if he knew she was lying. Suddenly nervous, she glanced at Mrs. Zimmermann, at the floor, out the window. “I've got to go now. I've got homework.”

“You're lying, aren't you, Gail? She called last night, didn't she?”

Gail shook her head. “No.”

Barrett slammed his fist on the coffee table. He had spent the last week finding a suitable place for a lab, had spent a good portion of his life savings setting it up. He swore under his breath. He had waited years for a break like this, had devoted countless hours to research, hoping to find a way
to extend the human life span, and now, when he finally had what might be the answer to years of research, they couldn't find the damn woman. Every day wasted meant lives lost that might have been saved.

“I'm tired of this!” he exclaimed. “Tired of waiting!” Rising, he crossed the room and grabbed Gail by the arm. “Tell me the truth, dammit!”

“I am! Honest!” She stared up at him, frightened by the fury in his eyes. “You're hurting me.”

“Stop that,” Mrs. Zimmermann cried. Jumping to her feet, she took hold of Barrett's hand and tried to pull him away from Gail. “Leave her alone!”

Barrett shook Mrs. Zimmermann off. “Talk to me, Gail. I don't want to hurt you, but I've been patient long enough. Where is she?”

“I don't know.” She was crying now.

“I'm going to call the police,” Mrs. Zimmermann said.

“I don't think so.” Barrett's voice, cold as ice, stopped her in her tracks. “Pick up that phone, and I'll break the kid's arm.”

“You wouldn't!” Mrs. Zimmermann stared at Barrett, her face pale, her expression one of stunned horror. “You . . . you're a doctor.”

“That's right.” A cruel smile twisted Barrett's lips. “After I break her arm, I can set it. Now tell me what I want to know!”

“Don't tell him anything,” Gail said, sobbing. “I'm . . . I'm not afraid.”

She cried out as Barrett twisted her arm behind her back. “Aren't you?” he asked.

Elsie Zimmermann's face paled as Barrett's gaze pierced hers. “Kara . . . she . . . she called last night.”

“Mrs. Zimmermann, don't!”

“Shut up, kid.” Barrett gave Gail's arm a sharp twist. “Go on, Elsie, what'd she say?”

“Not much. She just called to see how everyone was.” Mrs. Zimmermann clasped her hands to her breasts. “I told her Lena was in the hospital.”

“Did she say she was coming home?”

“No.” Elsie Zimmermann shook her head. “I told you what you wanted to know. Now, unhand Gail.”

Barrett grunted softly. “You must have talked to her, too, kid. What'd she say?”

“Nothing. She just said I shouldn't worry.”

“But she's coming home, right?”

“No. She knows you're here. I told her you came by every day.” Gail smiled smugly. “Kara's too smart to come home.”

“Yeah? Well, we'll see about that.” He gave Gail a shove toward the sofa. “Sit down, kid. You, too, Elsie.” He patted his coat pocket. “I've got to make a couple of phone calls, and I want you two to sit there and be quiet. Understand?”

Mrs. Zimmermann nodded. “I'm sorry, dear,” she whispered, wrapping her arms protectively around the girl. “So sorry.”

Gail nodded, praying that Kara really was too smart to come home.

Alex drove past Kara's house twice, all his senses alert, every nerve in his body warning him of danger. They had gone to the hospital first only to discover that Kara's grandmother had been transferred to another hospital at her doctor's request.

“Transferred?” Kara asked.

“Yes,” the nurse had said, checking Lena Corley's
file. “Dr. Barrett from Grenvale General is now in charge of your grandmother's care.”

A sudden coldness settled in the pit of Kara's stomach. “Do you have a number where I can reach him?”

“Yes, right here,” the nurse said. “I'll write it down for you.”

Kara stared at the paper the nurse handed her. The phone number was her own.

“He's got her,” Kara said as they left the hospital. “Barrett's got my grandmother.”

“So it would seem.” Alex drove by the house a third time, then parked the car at the end of the block and turned to face Kara. “Something's not right in there. You stay here while I go check it out.”

“What if Barrett's there?”

“I'm sure he is. But he doesn't know me.”

“You'll be careful?”

Alex nodded. “If I'm gone more than ten minutes, you go back up the mountain and wait for me. If I'm not there by tomorrow night, try to get in touch with your brother.”

“I'm not leaving you.”

“Dammit, Kara, don't be a fool. You won't do your grandmother or Gail any good if you're locked up in some lab. Even if it takes a year for Barrett to give up, at least you'll still have your freedom.”

“We're wasting time.”

“Promise me you'll leave if I'm not back in ten minutes,” Alex said. “Promise me, or we're going back, now, even if I have to tie you up and carry you.”

“Oh, all right, I promise.”

“I expect you to keep it.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.” He gazed at her for a long moment; then, grasping her by the shoulders, he drew her close and kissed her, hard. “Remember your promise,” he said, and slid out of the car.

His sense of danger grew stronger as he approached the house. Standing on the porch, he let his senses expand. There were a number of people inside. He recognized Gail's scent among them.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

Gail blinked up at the tall man standing on the porch. “Mr. Claybourne,” she murmured. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, of course.”

“Me?” Gail felt a twinge of apprehension as she stared at Alex. He loomed tall and menacing in the pale yellow glow of the porch light. Dressed all in black, with long black hair and penetrating black eyes, he was the perfect image of what she'd always imagined a vampire would look like.

“I thought I'd take you out for ice cream.”

“Oh, I . . .” Gail licked her lips nervously, then glanced over her shoulder. Barrett was standing behind her, out of Claybourne's sight. “I can't. Nana needs me here.”

“How is your grandmother?”

“Not very well.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. Tell her I hope she feels better soon.”

“I will.”

“Good-bye.”

“Bye.”

Gail watched him walk down the steps, her mind churning with questions. Where was Kara? Why had Alexander Claybourne really stopped by? She wanted to call him back, wanted to run after him, but she felt Barrett's hand on her arm.

“Shut the door,” Barrett ordered curtly.

Gail hesitated a moment, felt Barrett's fingers dig into her arm. Reluctantly, she closed the door.

“Who was that?”

“Just a friend of mine.”

Barrett looked at her, his expression skeptical. “A little old for you, isn't he?”

“He's not a boyfriend,” Gail said sarcastically. “Just a friend. He's a writer.”

“Claybourne?” Barrett frowned.

“He writes horror stories,” Gail said. “I used to think he was a vampire.”

Barrett laughed as he pushed her toward the living room. “A vampire, huh? Very funny. Sit down.”

Gail sat on the sofa and picked up the book she had been reading. It was one of Alexander's vampire books. She knew she wasn't supposed to be reading it, but there was no one there to stop her. Mrs. Zimmermann didn't know she wasn't supposed to read Claybourne's books, and Nana was too sick to care. Gail concentrated on the story. There was a lot of it that she didn't understand, but it kept her mind off Barrett and the other three men who had taken over the house.

She stared at the pages, silently praying that Kara
wouldn't come home and that Barrett would get tired of waiting and go away.

Alex walked away from the house, aware that he was being watched. He had sensed someone standing behind Gail. Barrett, perhaps? There had been others in the house, as well. He had recognized Nana's scent among them. The others had been strangers.

He paused in the shadows beyond the house, wondering what their next move should be, wondering if there were more of Barrett's men keeping watch outside. He considered having Kara call the police, but they had no evidence that Barrett was doing anything illegal. And if Kara confronted Barrett in the presence of the authorities, Barrett would most likely inform the police that he suspected Kara was infected with a deadly virus and insist that she be quarantined in his care.

Alex grunted softly, thoughtfully. Barrett was a respected member of the medical community. Alex had no doubt that the police would accept the doctor's word over his, especially when a police medical examiner studied Kara's blood work.

Alex muttered an oath as he walked down the street toward his car. They'd have to handle this on their own, and in such a way that neither Gail nor her grandmother, nor Mrs. Zimmermann, was put at risk.

He had considered and rejected several plans of action by the time he reached the Porsche. For a moment, he stared at the broken window, refusing to accept the fact that she was gone.

Rage swelled within him, growing stronger with each passing moment. He took a deep breath, and the scent of her fear stung his nostrils.

Unable to contain his fury, he struck the fender of the Porsche with his fist. The metal crumpled as if it were made of tissue paper.

“Damn you, Barrett,” he hissed. “If you harm a hair of her head, you'll regret this night as long as you live.”

Kara hovered on the edge of awareness. Voices penetrated the darkness—voices that sounded loud, then faded away. She felt the sharp prick of a needle in her arm as someone drew blood. Her head hurt. Nausea roiled in her stomach. There was a bad taste in her mouth.

She swam through layers of darkness, but, try as she might, she couldn't open her eyes. She cried Alexander's name, but no sound emerged from her lips. And then she felt the sting of another needle and she was falling, falling into a deep black void. . . .