The Iron Quill (13 page)

Wes leaned his shoulder into the glass. “I thought you wanted to protect them.”

“I do, but they’re still gross.”

“Do you want to hold one?” he asked with an irresistible half smile that almost had me considering it, until I remembered what we were talking about.

“That would be a no.”

“Okay, but I thought you wanted to see what we’re working on here.” He feigned a frown, but somewhere behind his gaze, I saw a hint of authentic disappointment.

That’s when I realized that maybe I’d been rude.

“Oh my gosh, wait.” I was suddenly racking my brain, trying to remember the missing ingredients on the paper in my dream the night Andy tried to kill me. Crap. Crap. Oh, man. “This blood is not in
you
is it?” Then I started fumbling over my words, trying to pull myself out of the ditch I’d put myself in. “I mean if it is, I mean, if you have crab blood, I . . . well, I mean blue blood, then I’m totally fine with that. It’s fine. I don’t care, it’s just I was looking at them and . . .”

Why was Wes letting me babble? Normally, when I was struggling to complete a coherent sentence, he would rescue me by saying something nice or soothing. He wasn’t rescuing me, but he
was
working very hard to hold back a smile. I stopped short and made a face. “Wait a minute, you’re enjoying my discomfort,” I complained, a crease forming in my forehead.

“No, I’m not. I’m just waiting for you to finish.”

I shifted my weight, fighting the urge to cross my arms. “I’m finished.”

“Oh, okay.” He moved closer to me, so close I thought he was going to kiss me, but he stopped short. “I missed you,” he said.

I didn’t answer, still trying to figure out his demeanor.

“I really did,” he pressed on, “And to answer your question, no, I do not have blue blood in me. This blood is used strictly for vaccine testing and medicines. But I’m extremely disappointed that you would suddenly have a problem with what’s running through my veins, as if this,” he pointed beyond the glass, “were any less disturbing than what I am.” Now the feigned look of hurt returned.

“It’s okay if this stuff is in you, Wes, I really didn’t mean—”

“Oh, stop it, Sophie. I’m serious. I’m not crabby!” he laughed. “This is something Dr. Thomas discovered right before he died. Research shows that an ingredient in their blood clings to bacteria, so pharmaceutical companies extract the blood and use it to test and make sure the vaccines are free of dangerous bacteria.”

I turned to the glass and watched as a female lab technician extracted the blue substance from the prehistoric looking creature. “So that’s what you’re working on? Creating vaccines?”

He nodded and shrugged. “Yes and no. We are working on vaccines, but recent studies have shown the blood from these guys may be useful in fighting cancer cells as well.”

I perked up. “Really?”

“Really. And that’s what they’re working on upstairs. We’re real close to something major.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.”

I just wished they didn’t have to torture the animals to get it. I felt so strongly about the thought, I said it out loud. He quickly shot it down.

“It doesn’t hurt. And crustacean and reptile blood extraction is the only animal experimentation we do.”

Suddenly I became both curious and doubtful, although I don’t know why. Wes was so compassionate, and I hoped that meant he was towards nonhumans, too. Especially with him being different and all, but still, I wasn’t convinced.

“This is a medical lab. What do you test on, if not on animals?”

He paused and then put his arm around me, leading me away from the glass. As we walked to the elevators in silence I kept my gaze on him. Not only was I awaiting an answer, I was studying every line and crease in his face, wondering if I’d notice any change due to his ordeal. There was nothing that I could tell, but he didn’t answer me until we got into the elevator.

Then he told me the lab only tests their findings on humans. They use volunteers who are willing to become part of the controlled study. They are usually already ill.

Wes said no one has ever died as a direct result from their previous trials, but he expressed disappointment that they hadn’t been able to save anyone either. He also showed concern about upcoming trials. He said the new mixture they’d been working on hadn’t been tested on anyone yet, because they actually feared it could be detrimental to the immune system.

In fact, they were so fearful they’d considered using an animal, but in the end, they agreed not to. In the meantime, doctors were rigorously working to design a safe trial.

I shuddered at the thought of someone willing to risk their life for the greater medical good. Grown up or not. Compassionate or not. I wasn’t so sure I’d be willing to do that, and instantly, feelings of selfishness returned.

I
was glad Wes was home, for obvious reasons, but also because both Dawn and Kerry kept calling to check on the status of his return. It would’ve been impossible to still sound normal and hopeful at this point.

Upon hearing the news, they sounded almost as happy as I was, leading me to think I hadn’t done such a good of job hiding my fears after all.

On our way home from the lab, Wes and I stopped to get some turkey subs and then went to his house. Everything felt almost normal, except for the black Tahoe escort.

“Are they going with us everywhere?” It was sort of nice to have the extra security in case those goons tried something else.

“For a while,” he said taking my hand and leading me into the house from the garage.

Memories of the last time we’d been in a garage together surfaced. It had been in Virginia, at Kerry’s chalet. Wes had said goodbye to me, promising it would only be temporary. Thank goodness he was right. But it hadn’t felt like it at the time.

He had kissed me with urgency, then assurance, as well as a fear that I’d sensed, then he had headed out into the bitter snow to meet his abductors.

My anger began to build, along with an overwhelming relief that he was back. I squeezed his hand as we entered. He set the bag of food in the kitchen and then asked if he could run upstairs and take a shower.

“You mean you haven’t showered since Sunday?”

He lowered his gaze, giving a hint of embarrassment. As if I thought it was gross. I knew he didn’t sweat, so it wasn’t like he smelled and even if he did, I wouldn’t care.

“It’s okay,” I said stepping closer to him, tilting my head up to look in his eyes. “I just can’t believe them.” I placed my hands on his hips. “What did they do to you?”

He immediately shook his head, but it was slow and not very convincing. “Nothing,” he whispered. I pulled back a little, but he locked his arms quickly around me. “Nothing,” he insisted again. “It really wasn’t bad. I’ll tell you all about it, but I want to get the smell of that place off of me.” He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for my okay.

“Fine. But don’t leave me down here long.”

He leaned in to kiss me quickly, smiled, and disappeared up the steps.

It felt so good to be back in his house with him. I plopped myself on the couch, kicked my feet up long-ways and picked up the remote. Rarely did I watch TV, especially when he was around, but I needed any distraction I could find to get my mind off him . . . in the shower.

Rachel Ray was cooking up a quick storm and although I’m not a good cook, I always find myself watching whenever my mom has her on at home. Somehow she makes everything seem so simple and yummy-looking.

After a few minutes of watching her butter up thick slices of French bread, inspiration hit me. I didn’t have to cook anything, but it made me want to busy myself with table preparations.

Back in the kitchen, I grabbed two plates, two glasses full of ice, and the carryout bag.

I made a second trip to pick up some napkins and a bottle of water for Wes, since I figured he’d be on a health kick, and grabbed a Sprite for myself.

I quickly set the table as the sound of the shower water turned off. Thoughts that he’d rushed his shower made me smile.

I was standing, admiring my makeshift intimate lunch, when I felt my thumb tracing the gem from my engagement ring. I had turned it inward, toward my palm, so it wouldn’t draw attention or questions from my mom, but now I spun it around prepared to show it off and field any inquiries it drew.

Right as I was about to take a seat, my cell phone went off. Given that Wes was still upstairs, and that Dawn and Kerry had already called, that left my mother. I was beginning to think she was telepathic.

Her persistence would have her calling back, so I answered it promptly.

“Hello?” I said, with my eyes closed and my face scrunched up, anticipating another lecture.

“Where are you?” she asked, her voice sounding worried.

“I’m actually at Wes’.”

“Well your car is here so I thought you were upstairs.”

Oops. “Oh, sorry. I forgot to call you. Yeah, Wes came and picked me up.”

“Oh,” she said, and I couldn’t tell if she was surprised or relieved. “He’s back?”

“Uh, yeah, this morning. I was so excited, I just left. Sorry.”

“Alright. Well, that’s good, but I’m calling because I got another phone call from the jail. This time collect from Tim Walters. I declined and made a call to Officer Petty to make sure he stops calling you.”

“Mom!” I became fearful that she’d only drawn more attention from those cops. I just wanted their involvement to be done and over with.

“What? I’m not going to let some criminal harass you.”

“He won’t harass me.” I hoped.

“Oh, I know he won’t,” she said.

Right about then, Wes snuck up behind me and wrapped his arm around me in a giant, soft bear hug. The fresh, sweet scent of him raced up my nose.

“Alright, I gotta go now, Mom. We’re about to eat.”

Hanging on to the call, she asked, “What time will you be home?”

I felt Wes’ breath on the back of my ear as he took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of my hair.

“I’m not sure, but I’ll call you if it’s too late.”

“Okay, Hon.”

“Okay, bye.” I hung up without waiting to hear her reply.

Wriggling myself from his hold, I turned around in his arms, eager to find his lips.

He was thinking the same thing, because his mouth was on mine before I’d turned full circle.

I thought he was going to attack me like he did in my foyer, but he didn’t. He just kissed me, tasting my tongue a few long times, and then pulled away to hug me more tightly than usual.

I almost couldn’t breathe, but didn’t care, either.

“I could hold you forever,” he said, “but if I don’t eat something, my mind is going to explode from stress.”

I understood completely. When he went long periods without eating, his metabolism slowed down, making it hard for him to keep his mind on pace with real time. I could only imagine what or how much they’d fed him while he was there. I quickly nodded, taking my seat at the place setting next to him.

He wasted no time digging into his sub, while I found myself staring at him, not hungry enough to take a bite of my own.

“Will you tell me what happened now?” I asked.

“Why don’t you tell me who’s harassing you first.”

“What?”

He kept eating casually. “The phone. Your mom.”

“Oh
that
.”

He kept eating without looking at me, and I knew he thought I was keeping something from him.

“Well,” I led into it slowly. “Tim called my house collect, from jail. So my mom thinks he’s harassing me, but I’m sure he’ll stop.”

“Why would he call you?” he asked chewing, while subtly reeling in the line.

From there, I spilled the beans about how I’d planned to go to the fight club, but changed my mind at the last minute. At that point, his chewing slowed tremendously, but his jaws seemed to clench harder with each bite. His chewing ceased completely when I told him about the deal I’d made with Tim in order to get the information I needed.

When finished, I glanced back in his direction and watched as he slowly swallowed the food that had been sitting in his mouth.

Finally, he leaned forward and said, “Are you serious?”

We stared at each other for a while, and I decided to play it cool. I broke his gaze and picked up my sandwich, took a bite, and nodded with a shrug of the shoulders.

“Sophie, are you insane?”

“No, I’m not, thank you very much.” I took another bite, feeling a little offended. He pulled my plate away. “What? I’m not allowed to eat and you are?”

He let go and rolled his eyes. “Of course you are, but I don’t want you avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“Then answer my question.”

“I did.”

“I’m serious.”

“Me, too.”

He finally grabbed the legs of my chair and turned me toward him.

“Does that not sound dangerous to you?” he asked, leaning in.

“Yeah it did, but I’m fine now and you’re home so—”

“Not that
now
. The call? You don’t think it’s a big deal that a murderer is calling you?”

Well, when he put it that way it did, but what could happen? I let my sandwich drop, no longer feigning hunger.

I put my hands on my knees. “What can he do from jail? He’s not getting out.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” I argued, reminding him about the evidence Chase gave up that ultimately put Tim in jail.

“None of that matters when you’re dealing with crazy people. Especially ones you’ve made promises to and didn’t keep.”

I shifted myself from my own seat into his lap. “How about I agree to let you keep the Tahoes around and you agree to relax.”

Silence followed while he pondered. I wriggled in his lap like a kid trying to nudge a response and finally he looked at me.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you. I’m trying to control it, but my fear is only getting worse.”

Several months ago, I’d seen a similar Wes. Uptight and stressed about my life and my possible death at nineteen. Only recently had he relaxed enough to have fun. And now this? I didn’t want him to worry, so I tried my hardest to come up with something funny.