Guardian (The Protectors Series) (25 page)

Mel ran gentle fingers across his brow, pushing his hair back. “You know, you don’t look so great. Did something besides getting hit happen to you today?”

“I lost a patient. A woman prisoner in labor. They dragged me over to help.” That was enough detail. That mage’s agonized face was engraved in his brain. Pushing it into Mel’s, too, wouldn’t help him forget.

“I’m sorry. Did the baby make it?”

Stefan nodded.

Mel hugged him. “They don’t have doctors?”

“Aside from wanting offspring, they’re more into survival of the fittest.”

Her eyes narrowed again, but she said only, “I have emergency first aid training. Maybe they would let me help you.”

“They seem to like keeping us apart, but it’s worth a try.” Not that he wanted her within miles of anything like this afternoon’s horror. Stefan slid both arms around her, drawing her closer, and savored the pressure of her body against his.

Mel rested a hand over his heart. “Hold me until they come for me? And remember I love you.”

“Always, and I love you, too.” He kissed her forehead and rested his cheek against her hair.

“They’re here,” Stefan said.

His warning jolted Mel awake as he stood, pulling her up beside him with astounding speed.

The door slammed open. Four big male guards crowded the opening. The one in the lead, a broad-shouldered, scowling redhead, pointed an Uzi at Stefan. “You. Come with us.”

The guards hurried the two of them into the hall.

“We have a patient for you.” The short, stocky brunet shoved Stefan.

“She can help me,” Stefan said quickly, daring their anger.

Mel’s heart clutched. They might hurt him badly for speaking up.

The redhead, the apparent leader, raised his fist. “What can she do, mage?”

“I can take blood pressure,” Mel blurted as the blond man on her left yanked her head back by the hair.

His fingers dug into her throat.

Stefan’s eyes went hard and hot. He strained against the guards’ hold.

Hastily, Mel said, “Temperatures, too. I can bandage.”

“Bring her,” the redhead snapped.

Mel didn’t dare look at Stefan in triumph before the guards hurried them outside.

She glanced around the compound. She and Stefan needed to know the layout if they had a chance to run.

They crossed a dirt yard to a two-story, wooden building. In the dark, details were hard to see. A semi with a blue cab and unmarked trailer sat at the back of the property.

Their escort shoved them inside, up the stairs, and into a room at the top. The spacious, square chamber held comfortable-looking chairs, a sofa, and a flat-screen television. A big, stainless steel refrigerator stood in one corner with no other kitchen appliances in sight.

Stefan frowned at their surroundings, but Mel didn’t understand why. The room smelled of ammonia but looked perfectly normal to her. Aside from the big-ass refrigerator with no kitchen.

The guards led them around a corner, where a king-size bed stood. Now the ammonia stench made her eyes water. The open door to her left revealed a toilet, sink, and shower.

On the bed lay a man like the ones they were hunting, the one who killed Cinda. Mel went cold. Her fingers curled at her sides, the nails digging into her palms, but she tamped down the rage, sliding into the zone where training overruled emotion.

The man’s eyes looked red-rimmed now, as well as purple, but his complexion had a greenish cast. Sweat poured down his face.

A stout, blond woman rose from a chair by the bed. To Stefan she said, “Find me answers.”

Stefan threw Mel a warning glance as his guards shoved him toward the bed.

The constant pushing and shoving were probably meant to intimidate, but a person got used to it. Seeing Stefan pushed angered Mel more, now, than experiencing a shove or two herself.

“I’m Dr. Harper,” he told the man on the bed in a flat, almost expressionless tone. “I’m going to take your vital signs.”

To the woman, he said, “My assistant needs a blood pressure cuff and a thermometer. I’ll also need a blood collection kit with several tubes and sanitizer of some kind. And a notepad and pen.”

“One of you, get that stuff,” the woman snapped over her shoulder.

Heavy footsteps tromped away.

Stefan took the man’s wrist between his fingers. “Someone with a watch, count off a full minute.”

The blond woman complied. Seconds ticked by. “Time,” she said.

“Mel, remember two oh three.”

She nodded. She didn’t need to be a doctor to know that was incredibly high, at least for a human.

The woman who seemed to be in charge frowned as though she thought so, too.

Stefan turned to the blonde. “How did his symptoms develop?”

“He came to my office, said he felt hot and dizzy. We brought him up here and gave him water, but he kept getting worse.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” Stefan asked.

Her lip curled. “Nobody you need to worry about, cock.”

“The more I know,” Stefan said, his voice even, “the better my diagnosis. I want to talk to whoever has seen or talked to him since he fell ill. It’s not like you’ll have to get them out of bed.”

The woman glared at him, but she was tolerating a lot of what she probably considered backtalk without retaliating. Stefan’s research must be crucial.

The guard came back with the requested supplies.

Stefan handed the pad and pen to Mel. “Write down the number I told you. Then take his BP and log that while I start the blood draw.”

Stefan jerked his head at the bathroom. “You got soap and water in there?”

“Not for you,” the woman snapped. “Sanitizer’s enough for a cock, doctor or not.”

“It’s for the patient’s good, not mine, but whatever.” His lips tightened.

The next few minutes passed silently while they took samples and Mel recorded readings.

“These need refrigeration,” Stefan said, holding the tubes of blood. He’d labeled them neatly with his initials, the date, and
P1
. For
Patient One
?

The woman jerked her head at one of the guards. The heavyset, dark-haired man took the tubes out of the room.

“Well?” she demanded of Stefan.

“I don’t know what normal temperature is for you. His is one thirteen Fahrenheit, lethally high for a mage or a human.”

Mel wrote it down. Stefan hadn’t been kidding about mutations.

“One oh five,” the woman grudgingly said. “That’s the norm.”

“So his temperature is elevated. BP is two thirty over one fifty. Judging by the look on your face, that’s elevated, also. Beyond that,” Stefan told her, “I won’t know until I can test these blood samples. I’d like to observe him overnight.”

 “You don’t need her for that.” The woman shot a disgusted glance at Mel. “Guards—”

“I will if the patient takes a sudden turn for the worse.” Stefan looked directly at the woman, radiating certainty.

She shrugged. “I’ll check back. You can keep your little pet a while longer.”

She marched out. The guards retreated to the sitting area. Out of their view, Stefan gripped Mel’s hand. “Good job,” he said softly.

“Stefan,” she whispered, “are you really going to try to cure this guy?”

“I doubt I can, but I’ll try.” When she stared at him, stunned, he shrugged. “It’s what I do,” he said. “Either way, he could give us the key to stopping this.”

W
ell, mage?” Seated at her desk, the blond female scowled up at him. “You’d better have something to report. Especially since Gramlin died. We expected you to save him.”

“If you’d brought me in sooner, I might’ve.” Stefan wasn’t losing any sleep over having one less predator in the world. He stood between the guards in front of her big desk.

Crossing his arms, he added, “You’ve been trying to slow the accelerated metabolism effect with injections of caffeine and, considering your protein-only diet, fewer and smaller meals.” While low doses of caffeine raised metabolic rate, very high doses could lower it. Apparently, someone told you eating liver, especially from mages or magic-sensitive Mundanes, could stabilize metabolic rates.”

“Old news.” Scowling, she slammed the flat of her hand on her desk. “Move on.”

“Anything you eat goes through your digestive tract, which is partly dependent on your liver functions. Or so I assume since your physiology, like mine and the Mundanes’, is basic humanoid. So we can theorize that the bile in your livers is hostile to whatever chemicals you’re seeking to absorb.”

Her eyes lost focus, as though she were thinking, buying his theory. “Okay, so eating the livers won’t work. What does this have to do with Gramlin?”

“Until I know why that happens, I can’t tell you.”

“Not good enough. Give me something definite, cock, or we find other uses for you and your pet cow.”

His favorite theory, which he planned to keep to himself, was that something about the superghoul process generated proteins that reduced production of the molecules that produced and stored energy, forcing the body to compensate and thus hiking the metabolic rate. He could suggest they consult whoever had come up with the toxin, but that might render him unnecessary.

Hedging, he said, “Whatever you’re using to ramp up strength and bulk seems to function like a steroid but flame out faster. I’m making progress, but medical research isn’t like getting a burger at the drive-through. Until I know what’s causing the problem, I can’t stop it.”

“Lazy cock.” Her eyes narrowed. “What
can
you do that’s useful this morning?”

“Routine blood panels are always helpful.” They would also show him whether the venom broke down once the superghouls died. If it didn’t, there might be a way to create a counteragent from it, something that could revert the transformed ghouls or, with luck, could coat a weapon so it pierced their shields because the venom resonated with their magic. Will would have some ideas if—no, when—Stefan had a chance to tell him about this venom. “I can read through the records and see what pops.”

She waved a hand at the guards.

With the usual tight grips on his arms, they quick-marched Stefan to his workstation. As usual, he scanned the desks, and his pulse quickened. The papers on the closest desk were a jumble, and an open box of paper clips, big ones, sat at the desk’s edge. Loose paper clips lay among the papers.

Chained to the counter again, he frowned as he booted the computer. Grabbing anything off that desk would be tough with ghouls clinging to him like giant leeches.

Since last night, a small refrigerator, a blood analyzer, and a microscope had been added to the area near him. He glanced down at the ankle chain, then at the nearest desk. Considering he stood six one, with appropriate reach, he should be able to knock things off it, including that little box.

Better lay some groundwork first, though. If all went well, he and Mel would be out of here today, tomorrow at the latest. Learning what he could this morning would be smart.

Stefan fed last night’s blood sample into the analyzer and waited the minute necessary for the readout. Creatinine was high, maybe a thyroid abnormality if the sample had come from a Mundane or a mage. Liver functions, normal.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he went back to the computer. Not much here on liver studies. The ghouls hadn’t tried using bile from a stolen liver to stabilize metabolism. The liver could also bind proteins and iron. If they believed the solution to their problems lay in magic-sensitive liver tissue, why hadn’t more experiments been done?

He could ponder all this back at the Collegium, preferably with this computer in mage custody.

He rubbed his eyes again, faking the need this time, then swayed on the stool. The collar trapped the magic in his body. He couldn’t project it to knock out a guard, shield himself, or blow out a door, but maybe he could affect himself with it. Griff had magically shielded his mind last summer while wearing magic-dampening shackles.

Okay, then. Eyes irritated. Blood pressure drop. Damn if he didn’t feel light-headed.

Stefan pushed off the stool, swaying. “Water,” he croaked, taking a step toward the empty desks.

“Step back,” the taller of the two guards snapped, stalking in his direction.

“Dizzy,” Stefan muttered, and he fell. Going down, he grabbed at a corner of the desk but deliberately missed, knocking a big pile of paper—and the box of paper clips—on the floor. Paper clips, binder clips, and a few pens scattered.

He managed to slap his palm down on two large paper clips and scoot them under him. “Sick,” he moaned as the guard dragged him up by the hair.

Extremely sick
. His stomach complied, tossing up the little it contained. He hadn’t eaten this morning.

The guards swore as they dropped him and jumped back. Doubled over on his knees, pretending to hold his stomach, he put the clips on the drawstring of his pants and tucked it in at the waist.

The female strode into the room. “What’s all this noise?”

“Cock’s sick,” one of the guards told her.

“Take him back to his cell. And bring his cow to clean this shit up.”

Damn. Sorry, Mel
. But if they were going to make her tend to that, maybe they’d have her take care of him, too.

The guards dragged him across the yard with their usual finesse. Stefan made sure he stumbled a time or two to keep up the ruse. There weren’t many others in sight, as he’d expected. Good.

When the guards pushed him into his cell, he fell to his knees and crawled to the mattress. He collapsed facedown at the edge of it. The paper clips dug into his stomach, the discomfort a boost of hope.

After the guards left, Stefan crawled onto the mattress, pulled the clips out, and hid them under one edge. Someone might come to examine him, though he hadn’t seen anyone more knowledgeable than the female supervising the lab.

If the guards brought Mel, she could unlock the collar, and they could take their shot. This had better work. If it didn’t, someone would find the paper clips and he and Mel would be as good as dead.

When the guards shoved Mel into Stefan’s cell, he lay facedown on his mattress, unmoving. God, he was so pale. Would they punish him for not standing?

The door slammed shut behind her, and she released a breath she hadn’t realized she held. She dropped down beside him and brushed his hair back. “Stefan?”

His visible eye opened. He pushed himself up, and his color improved while she watched.

“You looked so sick, you scared me. Now you seem fine. How did you do that?”

“Apparently I can use my magic on myself if not for anything else.” He cupped her nape and kissed her swiftly. “Glad you’re here.”

He’d faked being sick so they would bring her. “You got the paper clips.”

He pulled them out from under the mattress. “It was easier than I expected.”

Outside the door, keys jangled.

Mel jumped to her feet, and Stefan lay down quickly. A heavyset female brought in two plastic milk bottles full of what looked like vegetable soup. Glaring, she set them down and backed out again.

When she’d gone, Stefan sat up. “Might as well eat for fuel in case we have to go a long way, but if they come back, we’ll have to claim you ate mine.” He handed her the two paper clips. “I’m ready to blow this joint.”

“I can get behind that.” Mel flashed him a grin. Using teeth and fingers, and with Stefan’s help crimping the end of one unbent clip, she created a tension wrench and a rake.

Kneeling behind him, she took a calming breath. If they were found with his collar off, they were so busted.

It had chafed his neck and rubbed a raw spot on his back where the lock plate hung down. That had to hurt where it rubbed, but he’d never mentioned it. Mel set her lips in a tight line.

One more slow breath steadied her again, and she slipped the tension wrench into the lock. Holding the tool down, she jiggled the rake, trying to push up the pins in the cylinder.

Minutes ticked by. Sweat formed on her upper lip, and she scrubbed it off on her garment’s narrow shoulder.

At last, with a
click
, the lock gave. Yes!

She gripped the vile collar to remove it. “I’d like to stomp this thing. Your poor neck and back, Stefan!”

“I’ll recover.” He took the collar from her and set it beside him. “If they come in, I’ll pull the blanket up so it hides my neck and keep this thing behind me.”

Mel brushed her fingers gently over his back beside the scrapes. “They might take me away. Then what?”

“They’re not taking you again. They’ll have to drop the wards to get to you and then we’ll make our move.” He retrieved the two bottles of soup and handed one to her. “We’ll pretend I’m really sick and draw them into range.”

He took a long pull on the soup. “Damn, but I miss bowls and spoons.”

Mel chuckled. “We can have ice cream after the steak dinner and really expensive cabernet.”

“Count on it. You can use their guns, can’t you?”

“With the greatest pleasure.” She smiled at him. “Badge, Glock, and Quantico, remember? ”

Stefan grinned at her, and she asked, “Then what?”

“Gaining enough power to translocate both of us will take time. It’s easier if we sneak over to one of the pickups they leave sitting around. At least some of them should’ve been left with the keys in the ignition. We can use the truck to bust through the gates.”

“We need a backup plan, just in case.”

“Ghouls are creatures of habit. The keys will be there. If not, I can start one magically. ”

Mel nodded. Her adrenaline was already pumping, and the dangerous spark in his eyes implied he, too, was ramping up for a fight.

The door handle turned. Stefan’s eyes met Mel’s in shared
this is it
realization. He flopped down, pillowing his head on his arm and facing the door with the blanket covering the collar and his neck. Mel stood an instant before a burly, male guard entered.

The man pointed an Uzi at Stefan. “He eat anything?”

“Not yet.” He’d gone pale again. The way he could turn that on and off was amazing. “I can’t get him to wake up. Would you take a look at him?”

And turn your back on me, please
.

The guard raked an assessing look over Mel’s body. Her skin crawled, but she held still.

“He works too hard,” she said, “and he hasn’t eaten. I think he needs more than soup. Vegetables, protein he’s used to.” Not horses or goats. Or people. “Please.”

“It’ll cost you.” Standing too far away to kick, he smirked. “Only breeders who’re carrying get that shit.”

Mel didn’t have to fake her revulsion, but she swallowed hard. “I’ll do anything. Please.”

“You’re not allowed to breed yet.” His expression turned speculative. “Plenty of other uses for you, though. You make me and my buddies happy, and I’ll give you that crap.”

He grabbed her arm. Mel turned, as though to take a last look at Stefan. Her body concealed her other hand as she straightened and stiffened the fingers.

“Come on.” The guard yanked her arm. He’d let his gun hand drop. Perfect. Summoning an anxious smile to keep his attention on her face, Mel pivoted and drove the inner edge of her bladed hand into his Adam’s apple for a ridge-hand strike. In the next second, she grabbed the Uzi, shoving two fingers behind the trigger so he couldn’t pull it back.

Choking, wheezing, he tightened his hold on her arm. His other hand grappled for the gun, but Mel had a tight grip on it. She yanked the sling down his arm.

Stefan grabbed him, spinning him away from her so hard, the guard slammed into the wall. Mel kept her grip on the Uzi, barely. Stefan’s follow-up, a cross-behind sidekick to the kidney delivered at lightning speed, put the guard down. A snap kick to the back of his head knocked him out.

Mel raised an eyebrow. “Nice moves.”

“Courtesy of Griff and Will.” Stefan wasn’t even breathing hard. Tossing the collar onto the mattress, he said, “Since that noise didn’t bring anyone, I’d bet he’s the only guard.”

Mel dropped the magazine from the Uzi and checked the number of rounds, then slapped the mag back in. Before she could urge caution, Stefan hurried to the door and pressed an ear to it, listening. She pulled the weapon’s charging handle back so the bolt sat open, ready to fall and fire as soon as she pulled the trigger. Then she clicked the selector to semiauto. Ramped on adrenaline, she looked up at Stefan and saw his answering grin.

He cracked the door, peeked out quickly, and closed it again. “Hall’s clear.”

Glancing back at her, he said, “I’m still recharging my power, but I can do some things that will help us escape. Will you trust me, Mel? ”

Love for him welled in her heart. This might be the last conversation they had, so she put her misgivings aside and kissed him, enjoying the heat that ignited in his eyes. “That’s a deal. Let’s go, mage.”

They crept down the hallway without meeting anyone. Stefan drew power from the forest around them to recharge, but getting back to peak would take a few minutes. He could translocate himself at less than full strength, but taking Mel along required more power. Waiting to recharge might be smart, but it could also blow their chance if other guards came along.

They reached the yard door. Again, he paused to listen. No sounds. If he could get her out without pulling the full magic whammy, that would be best. Once they were out, he would still need energy to get them away and fight any pursuit. Blowing what he’d gained would be stupid.