“Where is the boy?” Lucas asked.
Sayer glanced back down the long hallway toward the entrance. “In the front sitting room.”
“I’ll get him and take him upstairs.”
“Is that a good idea?” The vampire dropped his gaze to the floor. “You’re draining yourself with these attempts when you should be conserving your energy for the raid.”
“Let me worry about that,” Lucas replied in a stern voice.
“Of course, master.” Sayer turned away.
He entered the front sitting room where the boy and his mother waited. She appeared to be healthy, but the child’s face was pale and sweaty. A bulge protruded from his left armpit underneath his shirt. It was one of the more obvious signs of the plague—swollen lymph nodes. Lucas rarely bothered to study diseases before, but in the last few days he’d made it a priority to learn about this one.
“Take the mother to the containment ward,” Lucas ordered a young vampire who stood guard for the room.
The containment ward was actually a former ballroom that had been converted to a quarantine area. Anyone from the targeted races who came into contact with a plague victim had to stay there for five days while they watched for signs of them falling ill. It was the only way to protect the rest of the supernatural population. For whatever reason, not everyone became sick after their first exposure. As with any disease it affected each person differently.
“But I want to stay with my son,” the pixie woman argued, holding onto the child tightly.
Lucas didn’t have the time or the patience to mollify her.
He leaned down and looked into her eyes. “You will go now and without further argument.”
She slackened her arms but didn’t let go entirely. He still had to pry her fingers off of the child. A mother’s natural instinct to protect her offspring could be strong even against compulsion. Lucas hadn’t pushed into her mind too hard, but he was still impressed that she put up some resistance.
He left the room with the child in his arms while the vampire dealt with the mother. A couple of guards leaped out of his way as he passed through the foyer. Fear reflected in their eyes. He didn’t tolerate younger supernaturals that well, which was why he usually chose to live alone. It was also why he had one of his servants run the city, rather than him. Without Melena around he tended to have a quick temper.
Lucas reached a set of marble stairs and followed them up to the second floor. He turned to the right and entered a long hallway. There were more than a dozen guest rooms in this wing, but he chose the first room. It was the same one he’d used for two previous patients he’d attempted to heal—one of which had died this evening. He tried not to think about that.
The room was richly appointed, unchanged since Aeson’s death. A four-poster bed sat centered against the back wall. The windows on either side of it had a heavy set of burgundy curtains covering them. The lighting was dim, but whoever had cleaned the room last left a lamp on for him. He had to admit the human staff here was efficient and very good at predicting his needs.
Lucas laid the boy down on the bed and carefully removed his shirt and shoes. As he’d noticed before, one of the boy’s armpits was quite swollen. The other wasn’t as bad. The child opened his eyes and looked up at Lucas nervously.
“Am I going to die?” he asked.
“It depends,” Lucas said, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder to hold him still. “How well do you listen to your mother?”
He allowed his vision to double until a second sight came before his eyes. With it, he could see inside the boy’s body to examine him at a cellular level. It took Lucas less time than with the previous patients to find the bacteria attacking the child’s body. He was relieved to find there was much less of it than the other two victims. His mother had brought him in faster.
“I’m in big trouble then,” the boy’s voice came to Lucas distantly. “Mom says I never listen.”
He almost smiled. “We’ll see. What is your name?”
It wasn’t easy holding a conversation and maintaining his double vision, but for the child he was doing his best. Allowing the boy to get worried or fearful would only make things more difficult. Lucas didn’t have a lot of experience with children, but he knew that much.
“Quinn.”
Lucas studied the boy’s lymph nodes where some had burst and moved on to check the lungs. Thankfully, they were clear. This strain of the plague seemed to spread faster to other parts of the body than the human version. It was making it that much harder for the antibiotics and other treatments, including the garlic oil, to work.
“How old are you, Quinn?”
He left the boy’s lungs and moved back to the lymph nodes, homing in at a microscopic level until he could see the phagocytes. They were supposed to consume harmful bacteria, but the plague resisted them. He had a theory that if he could just strengthen the phagocytes enough they could do their job. The trick was that he had to do each one individually when there were billions within the body. As of yet, he couldn’t strengthen more than a few hundred before all his powers were drained. This was not a skill he’d bothered to hone over the centuries.
“I’m six,” Quinn answered.
Lucas wiped the sweat from his forehead as he worked to beat his previous record.
“Be brave and perhaps you’ll make it to seven.”
When he finally let go of his second vision he’d strengthened over five-hundred of the phagocytes. It was still not enough, but he had to hope it would buy the boy time until they came up with a real cure.
“Rest now.” Lucas rubbed the boy’s head. “I will check on you later.”
His body ached as he walked toward the door. It felt as if he’d completed a hundred-mile marathon and done it in less than an hour. Long ago when he was only a century old—well before he gained the ability to flash to other places—he’d tried running that far. His body had been sore for two days afterward. It was a strange feeling for an immortal, but possible if one pushed themselves far beyond their normal activities.
Lucas stepped out the door and found a human woman waiting for him in the hall. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her and her head bowed so that she didn’t quite meet his eyes. All the humans in the mansion did that when he came near them.
“Do you need anything, master?” she asked, peeking up.
Phyllis was one of the head servants and made a point of seeing to his needs whenever he visited. He couldn’t find fault with her—other than that she was a human. Her blouse and slacks were always clean and pressed. She kept her graying hair pulled back in a tight bun and always spoke to him respectfully.
He’d also heard she was the alternate cook for the house. More than once he’d considered sending Phyllis to his home in Fairbanks with Melena, but the sensor would have rebelled at that idea. She liked her privacy too much and he didn’t have the time to convince her otherwise.
“Send someone to wash the boy and see to his needs. I want him to remain separate from the others,” Lucas replied.
“As you wish.” She let her gaze drop to the floor.
He headed back down the stairs and found Sayer in the foyer with several other men. They were bringing in two large wooden crates through the front doors.
“What are these?”
Sayer gave instructions to open them before turning to Lucas.
“The Dead Sea water we’ve been expecting,” the vampire replied.
Lucas lifted a brow. “Already?”
He could only imagine what Yerik had to do to obtain the water this quickly. There were numerous places across the country with plague victims that would need it—Juneau one of the lesser ones as far as supernatural population numbers went.
“Yes,” Sayer replied. “I’ve been told Fairbanks and several other cities are receiving their shipments as well.”
Yerik had done him a favor by giving him priority. Lucas would have to remember to thank him later.
“See to it the water is used wisely,” he said, heading for his room. It was at the back of the mansion where there were fewer activities. A place where he could rest in relative peace.
Lucas passed through broad hallways decorated with fresco paintings and porcelain statues set on pedestals. The place wasn’t his style, but it had been designed to impress and intimidate. Lucas appreciated those aspects about it.
He pulled out his cell phone as he reached his suite and called Melena. It was nearly midnight, but he wasn’t surprised when she answered right away.
“How’s it going?” she asked.
“I’ve made little progress on my end. Two of the patients died today.”
She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. We’ve lost several here, too.”
Lucas sat on his bed and pulled off his shoes. How healing could make his feet hurt he did not know, but now that no one was around to watch he didn’t have to hide his discomfort anymore.
“Did your shipment of Dead Sea water arrive?” he asked.
“I have no idea. I’ve been busy running around all day and Emily needed help with her homework tonight so I didn’t get a chance to check in with Paula.”
He’d nearly forgotten. “How did your meeting with the DHS agency go?”
Silence.
“Melena?” he added more force to his voice.
“Have I told you how sexy you are when you get bossy?” Her tone was light and teasing.
He felt himself grow hard. It was too bad he’d drained his powers or he’d flash to Fairbanks right now. How did she manage to annoy him and turn him on at the same time?
“Don’t change the subject. What happened?”
She cleared her throat. “They agreed to work with us on the raid, but on one condition.”
Lucas paused from removing his shirt. “What is it?”
“They want me to become a liaison between supernaturals and their agency. I’d have to work with O’Connell at a downtown Fairbanks office, but they’ll give me a salary and benefits package to go with the position.”
“Did Yerik approve of this?”
Lucas still thought something strange was going on between him and Melena, but he trusted the daimoun to do what was best for everyone concerned.
“Yes.” She sounded annoyed. “He even pushed for it.”
He relaxed. Though it wasn’t his ideal job for her, it was still far better than some other careers she’d considered in recent months—including manual labor. He’d watched her while she served in the military and knew she could handle working with the agency. Also, whether she wanted to admit it or not, she’d steadily been gaining respect in the supernatural world. If Lucas and Yerik backed her no one would consider giving her trouble.
“Then you should take the position,” he said.
“I already did. They said they wouldn’t begin coordinating with us on the raid until I agreed.”
He wished she’d consulted with him first, but on the list of things she’d failed to discuss with him before acting this ran rather low. It was a job. Not a life and death situation. At least, not at this juncture and he’d handle it if the agency became a problem. Still, he couldn’t let her off too light or she’d try to get away with other things in the future. Give a woman a teaspoon of water and she’d try to take the whole damn lake.
“Next time call me first,” he warned.
“And if I don’t?” The teasing tone had returned to her voice.
The damn woman somehow knew he wasn’t angry with her.
“I believe you know what will happen.”
When she’d defied him last time, he’d bound her to the bed naked and teased her unmercifully for six hours before letting her orgasm. Her begging and pleading had turned him on so much he’d had to jerk off twice while she watched. It had only made her wetter for him.
“One day I’m going to get you back for that,” she swore.
“I’ve hidden the chains. You’ll never find them.” They’d come from Purgatory and were the only thing that could hold him.
“I hate you.”
He moved toward his private bathroom. “I doubt that. Now get some rest and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”
“That’s what you think,” she said.
“I love you, too, sensor.” He hung up.
Chapter Fourteen
Melena
“Hand me the oven mitts.” Cori reached a hand out.
We were cooking dinner in my kitchen. Or rather, I was handing her stuff and she was doing the real work. No one would eat the lasagna tonight if they thought I had any part in preparing it. The last time had been a complete disaster. I’d had to spend two hours cleaning up the mess afterward.
“Sure.” I swiped them off the counter and gave them to her.
“So the kids get to see each other again. Did you ever think you’d be the one preventing naughty teenage behavior?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I was worse than them, sneaking out all the time and going to parties. Part of the fun was trying to get away with it.”
“Not me. I was a total innocent.”
I choked on the wine I was drinking.
“You know…” I paused to cough, “I’m a walking lie detector, right?”
“Just checking your reflexes.”