Pestilence (14 page)

Bart stared around them with wide-eyed surprise before shooting Pest a suspicious look. Pest shrugged and turned to the driver, who hadn’t opened his eyes. A tiny tap to the man’s forehead and he collapsed.

“Shit. What the hell did you do to him?” Bart rushed to catch him.

“Just put him to sleep.” Pest opened the back door and gestured for Bart to slide the man in. “I’ll give you a mask. Put it on him and get him inside. He’ll be out until we get to the hospital.”

“Why did you do this?”

“I couldn’t take a chance he would panic and run away, spreading the virus throughout the entire airport. It’s bad enough no one caught the fact he was sick before they sent him.” Pest dug out a mask to put over the man’s mouth.

Bart studied him. “Should I be worried about catching it?”

Pest shook his head. “I don’t think you’ll get it again. You aren’t completely cured. Your fever still spikes and my gut tells me you’ll always be dealing with it.”

“Okay. You ride in back with him. I don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve driven anywhere.” Bart waved a hand toward the backseat.

“I don’t know how to drive. I never had to learn.” Pest grinned as he climbed into the back of the car. He tossed the keys to Bart. “I hope you know how to get to Walter Reed.”

“There’s a GPS in here. I can figure it out.”

Bart shut the door and went around to the driver’s side. Pest made the driver as comfortable as possible while Bart fiddled with the GPS to get directions to the hospital. Once they were on their way, Pest pulled out his phone and dialed Dr. Darvi’s number.

“Dr. Darvi speaking.”

“Dr. Darvi, this is Dr. Bianchi. I have some bad news for you.”

“Please tell me your flight landed all right and you’ll still be coming to the hospital.” Darvi sounded worried Pest wouldn’t be showing up.

“Yes. All that’s fine, but the driver you sent to pick Dr. Winston and me up is sick. I’m afraid he might have caught the same thing as the other gentlemen.” Pest leaned over the man again and inhaled deeply.

The same putrid scent wafted from the man and Pest grimaced. He’d smelled worse from dead bodies during the plague, along with other epidemics he’d caused through the centuries. Yet he never really got over how terrible the smell was. It spoke of rotting and death, but Bart had survived and Pest hoped he could keep the others alive as well.

“Are you sure?” Darvi sounded horrified.

“As sure as I can be without any tests. Trust me, I know the subtle signs of the disease. I don’t think he’s got to the second stage of it yet. He doesn’t seem to be running a fever.” Pest swore silently. He should’ve had Bart check before he started driving.

“How far away from the hospital are you?”

“Bart, how far away does the GPS say we are?” Pest asked, holding his phone out in Bart’s direction.

“Twenty minutes if we don’t hit heavy traffic.”

Pest brought the phone back to his ear. “Did you get that, Doctor?”

“Yes. I’ll make arrangements in the quarantine ward. Also, when you get to the security checkpoint, they’ll give you directions to the back entrance of the ward. We’ll minimize the exposure of anyone else.” Darvi muttered something else, but Pest didn’t pay any attention to that.

He watched as foam formed on the corners of the man’s mouth and he went into convulsions.

“Shit!” Pest flung himself over the man’s body, trying to keep him from hurting himself.

“What’s wrong, Dr. Bianchi?”

“He’s convulsing. The illness must be progressing faster than I thought. I have to go, Darvi. We’ll be arriving shortly.” He punched the off button and hung up on the doctor. He let the phone drop to the floor while he struggled to keep the patient from flailing around.

Bart shot a quick glance over his shoulder, giving Pest a look at his scared eyes. “Do you need me to stop and help you?”

“No. Just drive. You can’t do anything for him. We need to get him to Walter Reed before he gets worse.”

“When I went into convulsions, didn’t you give me morphine and some kind of herb?”

Pest resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, I did, but as you can see, I don’t have any of that stuff with me at the moment. I don’t usually carry morphine around in my briefcase. My pouches have probably arrived at the hospital by now.”

“So when we get there, you can brew him some tea and help him, right?”

“I doubt it, Bart. Dr. Darvi isn’t going to let me give this man—or any of the other patients—unknown herbs. It doesn’t matter if I am a world-renowned authority on infectious diseases. These men are his responsibility and he won’t risk their lives on something he doesn’t know and hasn’t been tested.”

Bart grunted and Pest didn’t know if it was because he agreed with Pest or because he thought Darvi was an idiot. Pest didn’t really care either way at the moment. Trusting Bart to get them to the hospital in one piece, he brought all his strength to bear and held the driver through his convulsions.

“Why can’t you just knock him out like Death did me?”

“That ability isn’t one of my powers, plus the virus isn’t allowing his body to accept the spell.” Pest dug around his pocket and pulled out his wallet, shoving it between the man’s teeth. “All I can do is keep him from hurting himself and hope his body gives out and forces him to lose consciousness.”

By the time they pulled up to the security gate, the man had passed out because of the strain and Pest leaned back in the seat to take a deep breath and try to ease his own shaking limbs.

“Just another five minutes or so,” Bart said as he rolled up the window and drove through the entrance gate. “Dr. Darvi will have everything ready for us.”

“Good. I’m worried this virus has mutated now that it’s out of the rainforest. His convulsions came on a lot faster than yours.”

Bart shrugged, keeping his eyes on the driveway in front of him. “It’s possible, but also, the herbs and things you had Lam give me could have slowed the progression down slightly.”

Pest stared out of the window as he thought about Bart’s suggestion. It was possible the herbs worked on slowing the disease. The other possibility was simply that Lam’s presence kept Bart from getting as sick as fast as the rest.
Damn
. There was no way of knowing what kind of interference Lam had caused while he’d taken care of Bart. Not that Pest would’ve wanted it any other way. It just made it difficult to know for sure whether the herbs worked or not.

“I might have screwed up,” he admitted, loud enough for Bart to hear.

“Screwed up? How?” Bart pulled to a stop in the back of some building.

Before Pest could answer, the back door was jerked open and several people reached in, grabbing the unconscious man. They pulled him out and placed him on a gurney, rushing him into the building while Bart and Pest climbed out of the car.

Only one person was left to greet them. A petite woman smiled at them, her face grim. She didn’t hold out her hand, obviously not wanting to risk getting contaminated herself.

“I’m Dr. Taylor MacLachlan, Dr. Darvi’s assistant. I will show you to the decontamination room where you can remove those clothes. I’m afraid we’ll have to burn them, along with your sunglasses and briefcase.”

Pest didn’t say anything as she led the way in the other direction to where the mob of people had raced. Bart bumped him with his elbow and when he looked, Bart raised his eyebrows in question.

Shrugging, Pest didn’t want to say anything until he knew they were alone. It didn’t matter to him if they had to burn his clothes. The thought made him remember.

“Our bags are in the trunk of the car. We’ll need someone to bring them to us.”

“Of course. I’ll make sure that happens, but you’ll be putting on scrubs to go into the quarantine ward.”

Bart stumbled into him. “At what point did our bags get in the trunk?”

“Not now, Bart. We’ll discuss all of that when we’re alone.”

Pest noticed Bart’s jaw tighten. It was obvious Bart wasn’t happy with no answers, but Pest wasn’t going to risk MacLachlan overhearing anything he had to say. It was bad enough he’d broken every rule by telling Bart about his past. He didn’t want anyone else listening in while he talked about what he’d done.

“Here we go.” She opened the office and gestured to another door just inside. “The showers are in there. Take all your clothes off and leave everything here. One of the employees will collect them to be burnt. When you’re finished, there will be someone waiting outside in the hallway to bring you to Dr. Darvi.”

“Thank you, Dr. MacLachlan. We’ll be thorough, but quick.”

She nodded and practically sprinted away. Pest chuckled as he looked at Bart.

“Guess she drew the short straw and had to be the one to greet us.”

“Looks like it.” Bart paused and looked like he wanted to ask something.

Pest lifted Bart’s chin. “I promised you when we were alone in the hotel room, I would tell you everything. I meant it, but I can’t say anything right now. Too many ears around to hear, and while I might be willing to risk everything for you, I’m not willing to do so for the others.”

He hoped Bart could hear the sincerity in his voice. Bart nodded slowly.

“Good. Now we have to hurry and get cleaned up.”

The urgency of the moment made it easier for him to ignore the gloriousness of Bart’s body, but his cock still stiffened at the sight of all that naked skin. Snorting silently, Pest climbed into the decontamination shower and turned it on, letting the water beat down on him. He scrubbed and got as clean as he could possibly get.

While Bart couldn’t get sick again, it stood to reason others who came in contact with them—or their clothes—could catch the virus, which was why they had to burn the clothes.

As he dried off, he used some of his power to conjure up a new briefcase and transferred his papers into it. Their scrubs waited for them in the changing room and he slipped into a set. He adjusted his new set of sunglasses as Bart emerged from his shower. Bart nudged his briefcase as he went by.

“Didn’t they need to burn that?”

“It’s a new one. I couldn’t take the risk of my papers getting lost or burnt.” He should have known Bart wouldn’t ignore the rather suspicious appearance of another case.

“How the hell did you manage to get a new briefcase?” Bart shook his head. “Forget I asked. Just another mystery where you’re concerned.”

After putting on his gloves, Pest rested a shoulder against the doorframe. He watched Bart get dressed, admiring the curve of the man’s ass and the thickness of his cock.

“Quit staring at me,” Bart grumbled as he dressed.

“Can’t help it really. When there’s all that gorgeous skin on display, I just have to look.” He shrugged helplessly and winked.

“Whatever. Let’s go.”

They left the office and a man straightened from where he rested against the wall. He was dressed in scrubs and a lab coat.

“I’m Spencer. Dr. MacLachlan told me to escort you to the ward. I thought you were supposed to leave that behind.” He gestured toward Pest’s briefcase.

“It’s a new one. I had an extra one with my stuff.”

“I don’t remember bringing that with your bags.”

Shrugging, Pest chose to move on to a different subject. He didn’t want their escort dwelling on where the briefcase came from. “I’d like to get to Dr. Darvi as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir.”

Spencer whirled around and strolled back in the direction they’d come from. Pest and Bart followed him without talking. Pest’s mind raced as he realized he might not be able to save the men. He should have taken into consideration the fact Lam’s presence would have slowed Bart’s symptoms enough for him not to exhibit the same degree of illness the others in his expedition were. It wasn’t often a mortal spent any sort of time in the company of an angel, and even a messenger angel had a unique ability to heal humans.

They went through several locked doors and finally ended in a room where haz-mat suits lined the walls.

“You’ll need to put one of those on, plus masks and gloves. Also, you’ll need to put these booties over your shoes.”

Pest didn’t need any help getting dressed. He’d done this routine several times during his long life—or he had once the suits and protocols were developed for trying to stop infectious diseases from spreading. Once dressed, he stood and watched Bart settle the mask over his mouth.

“We’re ready.” Pest left his briefcase in the room. He didn’t need it to examine the patients.

“Wouldn’t you see better without the sunglasses?” Spencer asked before he opened the door to the patients’ ward.

“Whether I would see better or not is for me to say, Spencer, not you.” Pest spoke in his haughtiest tone. It didn’t pay to allow them to think they could ask him any question and he would answer.

“Of course, sir.”

Bart rolled his eyes, but again kept his mouth shut, which made Pest happy. He didn’t need Bart undermining his authority either.

“It’s about time you got a taste of your own medicine.”
Death’s slightly amused voice danced through his mind.

He chose to ignore it, wanting to keep his mind in the game instead of letting anyone annoy him. He didn’t want to miss even the smallest clue, especially if it meant life or death.

Spencer swiped his card through the secure lock and the door opened with a hiss. Pest spotted a group of four people surrounding one of the beds. In between elbows and hips, Pest noticed the person in the bed was their driver. He was pale, yet there seemed to be an angry rash appearing on the man’s skin right before their eyes.

Bart gasped. “Jasper.”

Pest turned to see Bart race to the side of the closest bed. He strolled over, not sure if he wanted to meet the man who had so coldly abandoned his lover. Looking around Bart’s shoulder, Pest cringed as he took in the wasted form lying still under the sheets.

Boils and lesions covered almost all of his skin. Jasper sweated, but his body trembled from chills. Even though Pest didn’t know what Jasper had looked like before, he could tell the virus had taken a huge toll on Bart’s former lover.

“At times, it seems karma really is a bitch.”