Amanda Ashley (24 page)

“No doubt you're doing all this out of the generosity of your heart,” Kara remarked sarcastically, “and this boon to mankind will be available to rich and poor alike.”

Barrett stopped pacing. “The first, experimental doses will, of course, be offered free. After that, I'm afraid we'll have to be more circumspect.” He shrugged. “After all, the alien has only so much blood. Unless we can find a way to reproduce it synthetically, I'm afraid the price will be dear.”

Kara stared at Barrett, horrified by his constant use of the term “alien.” To Barrett, Alex was no longer a man, but an inhuman species. As such, he didn't merit consideration or mercy. Barrett could experiment on Alex, abuse him, confine him, with a clear conscience.

“You can't keep Alex locked up for the rest of his life!” Kara exclaimed in horror. Alex might live another two hundred years. She tried to imagine what it would be like for him, to spend the rest of his days locked up, being poked and prodded, while vials of his blood were sold to the highest bidder.

“The rest of his life,” Barrett repeated. “Who
knows how long that might be?” He chuckled softly. “Don't waste your time worrying about him. He's not human, after all.” Barrett frowned thoughtfully. “Think of it! I hold the living proof that there are life forms on distant planets. Who knows, once I've found a way to reproduce his blood synthetically, I might turn him over to the government.”

Barrett nodded slowly, as if a new thought had just occurred to him. “Think of what he might be able to tell them, the advances we could make in space travel. This could be a boon to the space industry! Well, no point in thinking of that now,” he said briskly. “I've got too much to do.”

With a curt nod, Barrett headed for the door.

“Wait!” Kara grabbed the doctor's arm. “What are you going to do with me?”

“I'm afraid you've become a liability, Miss Crawford. But don't worry. I am a doctor, after all. Your demise will be quick and painless, I promise.”

“No! Please let me go home.”

“I'm sorry.” He stared at her, a flicker of genuine regret in his pale blue eyes. “Sorry,” he said again, and left the room.

The sound of the key turning in the lock sounded like a death knell.

Kara stared at the door. Quick and painless. Somehow, the words weren't very comforting.

Pain. It was all he knew. He closed his eyes against the harsh glare of the sun, but there was no way to avoid its light, or its heat upon his naked flesh.

Weak, so weak he couldn't concentrate, couldn't control his thoughts. Couldn't resist the memories . . .

Of AnnaMara . . . smiling at him across a dinner table when he came courting . . . letting him steal a kiss . . . promising to love him for as long as she lived . . .

AnnaMara . . . lying beside him, holding him in her arms.

AnnaMara . . . giving birth to their daughter . . .

Anguish, stronger and deeper than the pain of the flesh, rose up within him.

AnnaMara . . . holding AnTares in her arms . . . how many mornings had he sat beside her while she
nursed their daughter . . . how many nights had he listened to her sing the soft lullabys of ErAdona?

AnnaMara . . . lying in a pool of her own blood . . . the life forever gone from her eyes . . .

“No!” He opened his eyes and the images dissolved in the brilliant light of the sun.

In an effort to avoid the light, Alex turned his head to the side, and saw Barrett staring down at him.

“I'm told sunlight bothers you,” the doctor remarked. “Is that correct?”

Alex hesitated, wondering whether to tell the truth, or if a lie would serve him better.

“Well?”

“It bothers me,” Alex said, thinking that “bothered” was an understatement at best.

“I'll arrange to have the skylight covered during the afternoon. Will that help?”

Alex nodded, disgusted with himself for feeling grateful to the man.

“She told me you've been here for two hundred years,” Barrett remarked. “I want to know everything. Every detail of how you got here, where you came from, how you survived.”

Filled with nervous energy, the doctor paced the floor. “Your race has mastered space travel. Have you explored other planets? Found life there? Are there others of your kind here?”

He looked at Alex, waiting for answers that did not come.

Barrett's eyes narrowed. “You would be wise to tell me everything I want to know.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You won't,” Barrett replied, his expression smug. “The woman seems to care for you, and I'm
guessing you also care for her. Unfortunately, she has become something of a liability, one I can't afford to keep around, if you know what I mean?”

“You can't just . . . just exterminate her!” Alex exclaimed, horrified by the casual way the doctor spoke of killing.

“I can. But don't worry, I promised her it would be quick. However, if you refuse to cooperate with me, I'll have to renege on that promise.”

“Let her go, and I'll tell you whatever you what to know.”

“I can't do that. You know as well as I do that she'll go running to the police the minute she's free. I can't allow that.”

“Bring her to me. I have the power to make her forget everything.”

Interest sparked in the doctor's eyes. “What power?” Barrett paused to check the IV dripping into the alien's vein. “What do you mean?”

“She carries my blood. We're connected. I can control her mind. I can make her forget everything. You, me, everything.”

Barrett shook his head. “I don't believe you.”

“I can prove it. Tell me something she can't possibly know, and I'll plant it in her mind.” He shuddered convulsively as the sun's heat scorched his flesh. “But . . . not . . . now.”

“Why not now?”

Alex closed his eyes. “Can't think. The sun . . .”

Barrett rubbed his jaw, his brow furrowed in thought. If what the alien said was true, there was more at stake here than money or fame. Much more.

Going to the door, Barrett called for Kelsey.

“Yeah, Doc?”

“From now on, I don't want the alien exposed to the sun for more than a couple of hours in the morning and late afternoon.”

“Why? I thought you said the sun kept him weak.”

Barrett nodded. “It does, but there's a chance too much might prove fatal. Let's cover it from twelve to four and see what happens.”

“Right. You still want it covered at night?”

“Definitely. Tomorrow, I want the cover in place by, oh, say eleven. I want to try an experiment tomorrow night, so I'll need you and Handeland to be here at seven.”

Kelsey glanced at Alex. “Right. Anything else?”

“No. I'll be in the lab if anyone needs me.”

The tension drained out of Alex as the door closed behind the two men. As near as he could figure, it was a little after ten. That meant another two hours before they covered the skylight.

A long, shuddering sigh rippled through his body. Another two hours of feeling the sunlight on his skin, burning his eyes, leeching his strength, until it became an effort to breathe, to think. He comforted himself with the fact that it was only another two hours. He could endure it for that long. He had to endure it, for Kara's sake.

He tried to focus his thoughts on a way to escape. He needed to think, to plan. He had to find a way to get Kara away from this place before it was too late.

But try as he might, he couldn't concentrate, couldn't think. His skin felt tight, his blood ran hot—hot with pain and rage. Hot with the ancient
need to hunt, to destroy his enemies. To taste their blood upon his tongue.

Vampire . . .

He turned his face toward the wall, troubled by the images the word conjured in his mind. He had written about vampires for years. Perhaps, in some vicarious way, he had been living out his own suppressed desires through the lives of his characters. Perhaps the men of ErAdona would never be free of the innate urge to drink the blood of their enemies.

Hands clenched, he stared into the sunlight, hoping its heat would burn the hate and the anger from the depths of his soul.

But the pain only fueled his rage. Barrett would pay, he vowed. Pay for the fear and pain he had caused Kara. Pay for the pain that he himself was suffering, for the indignity of being strapped to this metal table. Oh, yes, Barrett would pay!

Alex? Alex, can you hear me?

Kara's voice, soft and sweet, filled with concern. It washed over him like cool water, easing his pain, smothering his anger.

Alex? Please answer me if you can.

I hear you, Kara.

Are you all right?

He took a deep breath.
Yes.

I told Barrett the sun was dangerous for you. Has he done anything to protect you from it?

Not yet. Tomorrow . . . tomorrow he wants to do . . . to do some sort of test.

A test? What kind of test?

Can't explain now . . .
He took a deep breath, his hands clenching and unclenching as he struggled against the thick leather straps that bound his
wrists to the table. But he was weak, so damn weak.

Alex?

So . . . tired . . . try not to worry . . . will get you . . . out of this . . . promise . . .

Alex, I love you.

Love you . . .
Love you, love you. He repeated the words over and over again. It was his last thought before he surrendered to the darkness of oblivion.

Shortly before eleven o'clock the next morning, the heavy cover rolled into place, shutting out the sun's blinding light.

Alex sighed with relief, feeling the tension drain out of him as the room grew blessedly dark. The pain in his flesh receded almost immediately. Never before had he been exposed to the direct rays of the sun for such a long period of time. It might take days, perhaps weeks, for his body to regain its full strength.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Perhaps now he would be able to formulate a plan of escape.

He was aware of Barrett beside him, fiddling with the IV bottle, and he wondered what drugs the doctor was giving him along with the glucose and saline.

He'd been here for three days, Alex thought wearily. Surely the longest three days of his life. In that time, Barrett had drawn copious amounts of blood, taken urine samples, examined Alex from head to foot. This morning, the doctor had cut a small sliver of tissue from the ridged flesh on his back. The pain of the scalpel on the sensitive skin over his spine had been excruciating, and the only thing that had kept him from screaming had been the
thought of the revenge that would be his once he'd attained his freedom.

“Remarkable,” Barrett said. “Simply remarkable.”

“What's remarkable?” Kelsey asked.

“The similarities between humans and this alien.” Barrett laughed with real amusement. “All these years, Hollywood and the tabloids have imagined aliens as intellectually superior to us, but physically inferior. They've always been depicted as diminutive creatures with scrawny arms and legs and huge soulful eyes, when, in reality, their appearance is almost exactly like ours.”

“Yeah, except for that funny looking leathery strip on his back.”

“Hmmm, yes, that is odd. But that seems to be the only aberration. Two arms, two legs, with the requisite number of fingers and toes. Very humanoid.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Phillips says he needs more blood.”

“So soon? What's he doing with the stuff, drinking it?” Barrett laughed, amused at his own humor.

“He said ten cc's would be enough. He's got two dozen vials ready to go. How much you figure to sell them for?”

“I haven't decided.” Barrett readied a syringe, found a vein in the alien's arm, then watched the syringe fill with blood, noticing again that it was darker and thicker than human blood. “Each case will be different, depending on income and need.” He handed the vial to Kelsey. “Take that to Phillips. And remind Handeland that I want him here at seven tonight.”

“Right.”

“Has Mitch had any luck finding the old ladies and the girl?”

“Not yet, but he's still looking. I'll drop this off at the lab, and then I'm going to lunch.”

“Seven,” Barrett reminded him. “Don't be late.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kelsey muttered.

Barrett grunted as Kelsey left the room. The man was an irritant, but he was loyal, and, like Handeland, he was capable of doing whatever needed to be done.

His gaze ran over the alien. He was a remarkable specimen, apparently in his prime, long and lean, with well-muscled arms and legs. A creature from outer space. It was still hard to believe. He shook his head. By this time next year, he'd be a wealthy man. His name would be known throughout the civilized world. His life story would be related in newspapers, magazines, medical journals.

He smiled as he imagined himself restoring health and vitality to those who could afford the price of a vial of blood. People would pay whatever he asked to save the life of a loved one stricken with a fatal disease or on the brink of death. But that was only the tip of the iceberg. How much more would people be willing to pay for the promise of immortality? There would have to be tests, of course. Once he had proved that the alien's blood increased the life span of lab rats, he would have to conduct tests on human subjects. That was the least of his worries. He had no doubt that he would find volunteers by the hundreds, the thousands. People who were sick, dying, would be only too happy to volunteer simply for the chance of being cured of their disease. Testing might take years, but he was a patient man. As soon as he sold the first
vials of blood, he would have enough money to do all the research required.