Sins of the Flesh (17 page)

Mick bided his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity. He would have to win the battle to get the key. He knew Mad Dog would only consider it a win if Mick ended up dead.

The moment came sooner than Mick expected.

M
ad Dog lashed out with a high roundhouse kick, but missed badly and lost his balance on some slick leaves.

Mick took advantage, driving an elbow sharply into Mad Dog’s kidney.

Mad Dog groaned and dropped to the ground, grabbing at his side. Mick seized his arm and twisted it upward, and Mad Dog sagged even farther. With that opportunity, he drove his knee into the middle of his opponent’s back and flattened him against the ground.

“Ready to say uncle, Mad Dog?” he asked, leaning close to the other man.

Mad Dog glanced up at him sideways, one part of his face plastered against the wet leaves and mud. “You know me better than that, Carrera.”

Sadly Mick did know him that well. Someday he would have to kill Mad Dog if he was ever going to have any peace of mind.

But not tonight.

With two quick punishing blows to the side of Mad Dog’s head, he knocked him out, then trussed him up with the cable ties in his jacket pocket. Whipping the key
card out of Mad Dog’s front pocket, he retrieved his gun and headed for the Wardwell facility.

With Caterina’s permission, Liliana had taken a second sample of blood for a twofold purpose.

The first was to find out if the abnormally speedy gene replication was ongoing.

The second was to determine if they could somehow re-create the parameters that her medical file indicated for the plasmapheresis. With that information, they could prepare the cell separator so that they could filter Caterina’s blood.

As Liliana hurried down to the pathology lab during her break, she hoped the latter could be delayed until they had the time to prepare it properly. That Mick would come through as he always did by retrieving the inhibitor drug.

At the door to the pathology lab, she paused, peering through the glass in the door to see who was within.

Only Carmen once again, pulling another late shift, head bent over the microscope at the back of the lab.

She walked in and her friend’s head popped up. A welcoming smile blossomed on her face as she approached.

“
Amiga
! Are you going to make my day again?” she asked excitedly.

Liliana shot her a puzzled look. “What did I do?”

“That last blood specimen—major-league interesting. High-tech stuff. Those GFPs, or should I say, YFPs and other amazing science.”

Liliana sat on the lab stool next to her friend, peered back around the lab to make sure they were alone, and whispered, “You didn’t say anything to anyone, did you?”

Carmen emphatically shook her head. “You asked me not to, but I couldn’t resist doing further analysis based on the results from the electropherogram.”

She tucked her hand into her lab jacket pocket and fingered the test tube there, worried that she possibly had made a wrong choice by involving Carmen. “You didn’t tell anyone else—”

“I didn’t,” her friend reiterated. “But I will tell
you
that what I found was a mix of human gene fragments spliced together with those from squamates and amphibians.”

“Squamates and amphibians? As in—”

“Lizards. Frogs,” Carmen quickly supplied and then added, “Probably because some amphibians have the ability to regenerate the tissues in their bodies in a way that’s identical to the original tissue.”

“So if someone had harm to a particular kind of tissue—”

“You join a little piece of the tissue before it was damaged with the right kind of amphibious genes and you could conceivably regenerate mounds of new injury-free tissue,” Carmen advised.

Which might explain why Caterina was now able to see. If the cancer had left behind even a small part of her optic nerve, it could have been regenerated to restore her eyesight. But that didn’t explain the skin thing or the weird auras that Caterina claimed to have experienced.

“
Hola
, Earth to Liliana,” Carmen said and snapped her fingers in front of her face.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about the possibilities.”

“Revolutionary,” Carmen said in awed tones.

She tightened her hand on the test tube, but then relented and pulled it out of her pocket. As she held it out
to her friend, Liliana wondered if it was glowing a little more than it had the last time.

“May I?” Carmen asked as her hand hovered over the sample.

“Would you check this out? See if the replication is still as fast as you thought?”

“That’s easy. Ask me to do something hard,” Carmen quipped, clearly unaware of the importance of what was happening, much less of the real reason behind the request.

Something hard?

“Can you find out exactly what kind of lizard or frog? Let me know what might happen if those non-human genes keep on replicating.”

For the first time, Carmen grew serious. “This is more than some science experiment for you, isn’t it?”

Liliana narrowed her eyes and examined her friend, trying to decide just how much Carmen needed to know. After a hesitation, she finally said, “It’s much more than that. Life and death more than that.”

Carmen leaned against the edge of the lab bench and cautiously placed the test tube on its surface. Leaning forward, she took hold of Liliana’s hands. Carmen’s were smooth and slightly cold from the temperature in the lab, which explained why Carmen always wore a sweater—usually a funky one—beneath her white jacket.

“I’m sorry, Liliana. I didn’t realize it was something personal. Of course I can try to find out, although it may be a little beyond my expertise,” her friend said.

“I’d appreciate it,
amiga
.”

Liliana hugged Carmen, hard and quick, and then made a hurried escape from the lab. As she walked out she plowed right into Harrison.

His presence surprised her, since he normally had little to do with the pathology department. He snared her upper arms in a cruel grasp and jerked her to the side.

“Is that why you haven’t been around? Playing both sides of the field now?” he whispered through clenched teeth and shook her hard, rattling her teeth.

“Stop it, Harrison.” She pushed against his chest, trying to break free.

Her actions didn’t deter him. He shook her roughly again. Moved forward until her back was against the wall and he had boxed her in, preventing her escape.

“But that’s where you’ve been. With Carmen.”

She forced her forearms up between them and shoved him hard, regaining her space. Recapturing a piece of herself.

It surprised him that she was fighting back. He stepped away and stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. Strange considering they had been involved for two years. Engaged for the last six months.

Engaged until right now.

She pulled the ring off her finger and held it out to him. “This is over, Harrison. I won’t be your punching bag anymore.”

He stared at the ring in her hand, then returned his gaze to her face. He placed his hand over the ring, but grasped both the ring and her hand in his much larger one and squeezed painfully. The pressure forced the ring against her palm and as the strength of his grip increased, the sharp prongs of the elaborate diamond cut into her flesh.

She tugged to escape, but he only held on tighter.

With another sharp tug, she finally broke free and the
ring dropped to the floor, pinging against the tiles until it came to rest.

Harrison only shot it a sideways glance as he drove her up against the wall once again. Bending down from his greater height, he warned, “I will not let you do this to me, Liliana.”

He stepped away from her, gracefully swooping down to recover the ring from the ground, and then headed toward the elevator bank. As the door opened and one of the other doctors stepped out, he offered them an engaging smile and warm greeting.

He received a genial response, which grew confused when the doctor noticed Liliana standing down the hall.

She forced her own smile at the female physician as Harrison swept by her and into the elevator.

After a steadying breath, she took her first hesitant step to return to her rounds.

Her second step was more certain. Stronger.

N
ow that she had the freedom to move around, Caterina could see that the home was one of welcome, filled with warm vibrant colors that reminded her of Mexico and of her own happy times with her mother.

Caterina ran her hand over the rough-hewn oak sideboard, regretting the roundish dents left behind by her fingers. She traced the rough edges of the crudely elegant cast-iron candelabras resting on the wooden surface. They were beautiful despite the lack of gloss or adornment. Simplistically functional, like the man who owned them.

Leaning toward the fat pillar candle on one of them, she inhaled deeply, but only a hint of the fragrance remained. She suspected Mick didn’t spend enough time in this place to use them or keep them fresh.

If the house was well-maintained, it was likely by someone else’s hand.

The rumble of the garage door alerted Caterina that Mick was back.

She walked to the kitchen and stood just a few feet away from the side door that opened into the garage. He came through a moment later and the alarm began its
warning chirp. He quickly shut it down and as he turned, she realized he was hurt. A blood-soaked bandage was stark against his black shirt. His face bore a multitude of scrapes and bruises, as did his hands.

It would have been stupid to point out the obvious. Instead Caterina grabbed the top rung of a kitchen chair and swung it around. Motioned to it and said, “Sit. I’ll go get something to patch you up.”

His eyes narrowed as he said, “Since I’m the one who knows where everything is—”

“I’m sure I can find the supplies.” She jabbed her index finger at the chair again. “Sit before you bleed all over the kitchen.”

Mick stalked toward the oven, snagged one of the kitchen towels hanging from the door handle, and wrapped it around the wound on his forearm, since blood was beginning to escape the gauze he had wrapped around the wound earlier. When he took two big strides toward Caterina, she controlled the urge to flinch. Miraculously, he obeyed her and plopped down onto the kitchen chair.

“There’s a small linen closet in the master bathroom. Medical kit is in there,” Mick said, cradling his injured arm to his midsection.

Caterina rushed upstairs and found the kit right where he’d said. Grabbing the plastic olive-green box with the red and white cross, she hurried back downstairs, but stopped short as she entered the kitchen.

He had pulled off his black sweater and the blood-soaked gauze. The naked expanse of his shoulders was leanly muscled. On one shoulder he bore a bruise in the shape of a hand—her hand.

Caterina bit her lip and walked around him to the table
where she set down the medical kit. While she opened the gear, she glanced at him sideways, slowly inventorying the damage to his body.

On his left shoulder, the vivid imprint of her hand. Farther down, a series of reddish blotches sure to turn into more bruises.

She skipped over the sight of his lean sculpted abs, her hands shaky as she took out some gauze and butterfly bandages from the medical supplies. As she removed pre-packaged alcohol swabs, she said, “Let me see your arm.”

He shifted the chair to better face her and it squeaked against the tile floor. Laying his hand flat on the table, he removed the towel and splayed his fingers against the thick wooden surface to allow her to examine the wound.

She winced as she noted the length and depth of the knife cut.

“That looks like it’ll need stitches.”

Mick grunted in agreement. “Lil can close it later if we clean it up.”

Caterina nodded and ripped open a few alcohol pads. Wadding them together, she faced him to start the cleanup, but as she did so she again noticed the cuts, scrapes, and bruises on his face. Once again she winced, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Don’t worry. The other guy looks worse.”