Sins of the Undead Patriot (28 page)

Vaihan didn’t know what he was going to say. What he did know, was that he would not leave until Marty agreed to try whatever brute methods were contained in the pages of the diary to make him human again.

“I let you see my patient and...” Marty didn’t look at him, and crossed his arms over his chest. “You upset her.”

Already, matters weren’t going in his favor. “I know. That’s why I need to speak to you.”

Marty swiveled his computer chair away from the screen and met his gaze. “Continue.”

Vaihan took a seat across from him. “I spent years stewing in self-loathing. It’s taken me centuries of soul-searching to come to accept what I am. And then she came along.” In his head he couldn’t make sense any of this, so how could he explain it to anyone else? “I’d give up everything I’ve accomplished to spend one lifetime loving her.” If he remained undead, a barrier would always lie between them. “I want to be your first test subject to try a conversion back to human.”

“I’m years out from being ready to attempt what is outlined in the book.”

“We don’t have years. Leera is self-destructive, tangled up with the wrong sorts of people. If I don’t attempt this, I will lose her.”

“Leera doesn’t want to change you, Vaihan.”

“No, she wants me to poison her. That’s the self-destructive part I was speaking about. She’ll always push the limit between us. What better way to die than in the arms of the person you care about as he makes love to you?”

“Then she should seek help.”

“I agree. I will insist she does, but I also want to be with her, and the only way for that to happen is for you to make me human.”

“Do you know how slim the chances are that this will have the outcome set out in the book?”

“Yes. And I still want to try. You’re the only person I trust to do this, and I’m the one person who won’t leak the results. I’m holding a press conference tomorrow to take a leave from my role as advisor to deal with my unresolved emotional issues. This will allow us a chance to monitor the results without the worry of others finding out.”

“I’m not getting the impression you’ve left any room for me to say no to this.”

“I haven’t.” Better he not piss off the man who was soon to have his life in hand.

“I don’t like to be backed into a corner.” Marty sighed. “However, a lot of valuable science will come out of the research, so I don’t see how I can say no in good conscience. When can we get started?”

“How does now work for you?”

“I’ll need a week or so.”

That was even better than he could have hoped for. “Perfect.” Vaihan got up. “Didn’t you go to school with one the top scientists over at Homeland Security?”

“I did. We both did our thesis on undead. I looked at the possible benefits, and he examined the genetic costs. A little on the radical side, if you catch my meaning. Seems to have calmed down since. Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious. Rumor is, they aren’t too keen on the Bill.”

“A lot of people are nervous about the Bill. Not all undead are like you.”

“I could say the same thing about humans. Genocide. War. Poverty. It’s not a pretty picture.”

“I didn’t say I was one of them. I figure you have as much right to fuck each other, and others over. Or, as I like to call it, freedom.”

“You’re one sick bastard.”

“I prefer to say I have a healthy sense of humor. I’ve worked in the government long enough to understand
Don’t worry, we are here to help
. And if you believe that, you’ll believe damn near anything.”

“Thanks.” Vaihan rubbed his temple.

“I’m being honest. If you want, I can touch base with the man and ask a few questions.”

“I appreciate you doing that for me.” Human contacts were more likely to open up to Marty than him. They worried that providing him with information would indict them.

Chapter 33

Warm water rushed out of the showerhead onto Leera’s face. Her stomach heaved, but had nothing left to give the porcelain god. Tears stung her eyes as the minty mouthwash burned her throat each time she swallowed.

What on earth was she doing? She wasn’t cut out to do this. Why didn’t Federal Agent Sir Mixalot get that? This mission was tearing her apart from the inside out.

Cool air drifted into the room. A shadow was cast on the shower curtain from the other side.

“Go away, Rowley.”

No response came. The door closed. She peeked out to find Devin leaning on the counter, head hung low. His haunted, pear-green eyes framed by black lashes met her gaze, then drifted downward in pain.

“He’s upset, drunk, and I didn’t know what he’d say.” He grabbed a handful of his long dark bangs. “I managed to get him to agree to let me speak to you.”

She retreated under the water, lathered up a face cloth and scrubbed her skin, cleaning away their touch and scent. Images sparked in her thoughts. The heat of Devin’s trembling hands moving over her gently and the lust in his eyes. The flush in Rowley’s skin, and the elation in his smile. Raw grunts from them as they filled her one after another echoed in her mind. She was going to throw up again. She crouched.

“Are you okay?” The deep tone of his voice carried to her.

“No.” She rinsed off the soap. How could she be? Though she was sexually open, this was stretching her limits. Every second of the encounter sent her mind whirling into a tornado of confusion. Did she still feel anything for Vaihan? Why would a man who claimed to love her want her to screw another man in front of him? And why on earth would that man want her?

“Did I hurt you in any way? Make you feel uncomfortable?” His concern made his tone waver.

She flashed back to how he’d held her. Tenderly. She turned the water off and wrapped her towel around her. “I don’t think you hurt me.” She stepped out of the shower and strode to the door. Yet her body felt ripped to pieces.

Devin placed his hand on the wall, blocking her exit. “What does that mean?”

With her arms wrapped around her torso, she squeezed herself to hold her composure together.

“Leera?” He stepped closer, his towering frame hovering, and pressed his other hand to the wall behind her.

There was nowhere for her to go. She retreated against the towel rack. A well of tears pooled in her eyes.

“I need to know. My mind is going over every second we touched.” He looked at his palms then the backs of his hands.

Droplets streamed down from her eyes.

He cupped her face, slid a hand around her neck, while with his thumb he angled her head to meet his gaze. “
Lui le cheile in eineacht le a cron sceimhiuil gan a bheith in ann ag an obair
.”

“I don’t understand.” She met his piercing gaze.

“I said ‘making love with his dark beauty has left me in a state of wanting.’ If what you and I shared disgusted you, let me not find peace until I can repair the pain I’ve caused you.”

His words created an avalanche of tears, and she could not prevent her entire body from joining in her sobs.

“Don’t hold in what’s hurting. Let it out or it will eat you from the inside out.”

She slid down the wall.

He gathered her up and sat on the edge of the tub and rocked her in his lap, whispering in Gaelic to her. His tone was even and affectionate, comforting.

* * * *

The headline of the
Washington Post
read “
Leera Waltz, Victim or Vixen
?” A photo of Vaihan shielding his face as he entered his car was accompanied by a photo of her leaving the hospital with Rowley McKie.

Part of her wanted to slip into the role of the vixen the media was intent on casting her in. The other part didn’t want to lower herself to the lies they spread about her. None of them knew what kind of mess she was in. At this point, she was trying to survive the slippery slope she descended. She folded the newspaper and tossed it on the desk in front of her.

Sitting in the doctor’s office, legs crossed, she waited for him to join her. He’d refused to call in another refill without seeing her. The nurse’s sorrow-filled eyes as she’d taken her blood pressure and weighed her had made her hands shake with anger.

The door opened behind her. “Ms. Waltz.”

“Dr. Steinfeld.”

“Marty, please. Formalities give me hives.” He scratched his neck with the back of his pen.

She nodded. Vaihan trusted this man with her life, though for what reason, she hadn’t a clue. How did they know each other? Truth was, she didn’t know much about Vaihan’s world. Her involvement with him remained outside of his circles, which made sense, given that she was an assignment.

“How have you been feeling?” He leaned back in the wooden swivel chair.

“Aside from waking up soaked in sweat and the shakes that come and go, I’m still melancholy. The media whirlwind, losing my job and the pressure this has put on Peter hasn’t helped brighten my mood.” So, she was putting it mildly. She couldn’t always be a drama queen.

“Understandably.” As he spread his lips in a thin line, his unruly salt and pepper hair bobbed. He opened the file on his desk with her name on it. “You’re thirty-four?”

Wasn’t that in her file? “Yes.”

He sighed. “I hesitate bringing this up to you, Leera, but in good conscience, I’m unable to ignore the information.”

What the hell was he leading into? “Please, go on.”

“One of the side effects of your encounter with the toxin is that the abnormal growths on the exterior of your uterus and your fallopian tube have shrunk, reducing the deterioration of your uterus’s lining. I know you’ve yet to have a child. I have no idea if you are interested in having any children, but I believe controlled doses of the poison could reverse enough of the damage so that you may have a chance of conceiving and carrying a child of your own. I can’t promise, as we’d need to monitor the effects as we go.”

“Show me.”

Marty tapped on the keyboard then turned the monitor toward her. On it were two side by side images of her uterus. One was from an ultrasound taken last year, and the other, after the incident with Vaihan–or with the toxin, as he called it. The edge of the irregular growths marked with a yellow highlight had shrunk in half.

This couldn’t be real. “What’s the catch?”

“You’d be feeding the drug into your system directly.” He frowned.

“I’d become an addict.” Wonderful. Of course, this would come at a high price, but what didn’t in her life?

“Essentially, yes. I suggest if you decide to move ahead with this, that you conceive immediately, as I have no way of knowing how long the changes will last. You’d also be kicking the habit while pregnant. One last thing, each zombie’s toxin has unique properties to that individual undead and where the secretion came from, meaning there is only one source for the blend that’s resulted in the change.”

Could her situation get any more complicated? “Vaihan’s semen.” Just wonderful. How on earth was she going to talk him into helping her?

“Precisely.” He scribbled on a prescription pad. “You have a lot to think about.”

Not really. She had always wanted children. It had been one of the few things that never changed in her mind. One child was better than none. “When can we get started?”

“If you can get the toxin, within a few days. Two donations spread at least forty-eight hours apart. I’ll figure out the doses of the injections to go directly into your uterus.”

Vanishing this close to Christmas would be nearly impossible. She had to plan the injections as soon as possible. First, she had to work on convincing Vaihan to donate the toxin. And figure out who would father her child.

Rowley. The responsibility of another life might calm his inner turmoil, but did she want to take that chance?

Or Devin. There was a winning plan to get the man killed.

Vaihan’s fluid was toxic, so he probably wasn’t able to assist either. “How is he?”

“Who?” He narrowed his eyes.

She frowned, rolling her eyes.

“Oh. You should ask him when you see him.”

That part could not be avoided, if he was going to donate his fluid. She nodded, picked up the prescription he’d set down in front of her and exited the office.

* * * *

Leera placed the bags into the passenger seat next to her, unwrapped the scarf from her head and removed the large sunglasses. Relief washed through her. She’d managed to get a gift for everyone, including Vaihan, if he’d ever accept one from her.

Devin’s boat of a vehicle wasn’t the easiest to maneuver, but he’d been kind enough to loan it to her to run out for errands so she wouldn’t be accosted by the press.

A gloved hand covered her mouth, and she squealed.

In the rearview mirror she saw Barton in the back seat. The fucking asshole! She’d nearly had a heart attack.

He ducked in close to her ear. “Miss me?” Heat laced his tone. He slid his hand away.

“Can’t say I did.” The man was deranged. That was the only thing that explained his behavior.