The Isis Collar (20 page)

Normally, the question about my clients would be one I couldn’t answer because of the confidentiality agreements I use. But luckily for me, I’d taken a vacation after the closing of the demonic rift and that holiday job from Rizzoli and had just chilled. Other than a jellyfish sting on my arm and a pinched toe from a hermit crab on the beach, it had been a really quiet three months … until the school. “Actually, I haven’t been working much lately. My last job was sort of taxing.” I looked at where Rizzoli had been standing, but he wasn’t there. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

“Release her?” Bruno sputtered. “Shouldn’t we be transporting her to a secure facility until the drug takes effect? At the very least, she’ll need physical therapy for months.”

Dr. Gaetano shrugged. “Oh, we’ll be going to the hospital for more tests. No question about that. But I don’t see a reason for restraints at this point. The leg looks remarkably better already. The drug has taken effect, and she probably won’t need therapy. Take a look.”

Everyone looked back at me. I managed to move my head and leg so I could see the pale, unblemished skin. My stomach lurched with a combination of happiness and worry even though my head was still aching. “Whoa. That was fast. Will my head feel better soon?”

Gaetano shrugged. “You don’t follow the normal parameters at all. Whether it’s your siren heritage or the vampire blood, you heal really fast. I’d imagine the pain in your head will eventually fade. Obviously, I’m pleased. I want to take another saliva sample and do more tests at the hospital, but I honestly think we’ve got this licked.”

Bruno said, “But don’t you think—”

I interrupted him. “You’re right; the normal parameters don’t apply.” I tried to take a deep breath that came out as a series of shallow coughs. “Too fast. Everything is too fast. I’m really worried about the people at the school.”

Rizzoli appeared again and I hadn’t seen him enter. I didn’t like that. I also didn’t like that he gave Gaetano a warning look. They knew more than they were saying. I was going to find out what that was, one way or another.

Dr. Sloan walked in as Bruno was struggling to get the chest bands to release. He went to the wall, fumbling to get the heavy, oddly shaped metal key into the slot that controlled the restraints. My fingernails started tapping on the metal, trying to hurry him by sheer effort. Finally the key turned and I heard a click. I hadn’t been kind to the metal in my struggles, but thankfully the bands all slid back into the tabletop and I finally took my first deep breath since I’d arrived in the room. I immediately got off the table and started stretching to see what was just stiff and sore versus … well, versus other things that made my chest tight. “That was a close one.” Dr. Sloan spoke sort of under his breath and it made me respond.

“What was?”

He shook his head as I tugged on the chopped leg of my jeans. They’d cut it short—really short, probably in case they had to do more injections. But I had swimsuits that covered more. I felt unusually bare in a room full of men. I didn’t catch any of them staring, but I was ready to change into something a little less revealing.

“I heard Dr. Lackley’s voice in the building. He’s been working a lot of nights and he’s been on a rampage lately about unauthorized use of the facilities. I didn’t want him to catch us in here like … like
this.
I really want to work with Bruno on his project. I’d hate to have an incident involving him after lab hours. So I intercepted him and asked him for a copy of a student evaluation I knew he’d have to get from his office. But we’ll have to leave soon.”

Bruno let out a noise that told me he remembered the college president all too well and was happy to avoid a confrontation. Of course, he and I aren’t on the best of terms, either. I wouldn’t say that Donald Lackley precisely
hates
me, but he hates what I represent. I’m one of those really stubborn people who take advantage of openings and then won’t leave. “Yeah, he’d be happy to use this as an excuse to boot my butt out of here.”

I was technically an enrolled student, so I could use the facilities during school hours. But Dr. Lackley was just waiting for me to screw up. I was one of the last holdouts of a failed promotion that the school had canceled once the administration had realized the potential long-term costs. I had no doubt he was pushing the professor to kick me out of the gardening class, but this would be even better as far as he was concerned. The Board would never question a clear rule violation to end my insurance. Of course, what good is insurance if it doesn’t work? Maybe I should just let it end.

We snuck out the back door of the building, leaving Dr. Sloan to deal with Lackley then meet us outside. The night air was cold and moist, feeling more of fall than spring. The overhead lights were hazy through the mist, but my vampire eyesight quickly took over and the world became sharply defined. Even in the darkest shadows, I could see the outline of every tree, every person walking across the quad toward the dorms or snuggling in pairs on blankets on the grass. In fact, I could see each individual blade of grass. It’s amazing to me how much of the world I had missed seeing when I was human.

Dr. Sloan was waiting on the sidewalk near the front door and joined us silently. I wanted to ask a ton of questions, but now wasn’t the time. We moved as a group toward the parking lot, keeping quiet until we were well outside the invisible barrier that surrounded the science building. It was only then that anyone felt comfortable enough to stop and speak.

As usual, Rizzoli took charge. “So what’s next? Who’s going with who? I brought Celia here, so someone is going to have to take her to the hospital.”

The headlights of a tall truck, slowly winding through the narrow campus roadways, appeared. Dr. Sloan said, “Oh, look, that’s probably the table from the FBI. Come, Bruno, Agent Rizzoli—help me flag it down.” He moved off with speed that was astounding for a man his age. Rizzoli smiled and followed at a sprint.

The table. Crap. I’d forgotten all about it. Was it the memory problems again, or just too much happening in too small a space of time?

Bruno groaned. “I should have remembered how he is before I asked him to be my advisor. I’ll be the equivalent of a slave for the next year.” He pulled me into a hug. “Go get tested. Be okay and
call me
when you know something. Okay? I’ll check on you in the morning.” I was enjoying the sensation of his body against mine, warm and alive. He is the best damned hugger ever. The scent of his cologne and his skin muddied my mind, and apparently I didn’t respond quickly enough, because Bruno pulled back.
“Okay?”

“Hmm? Oh! Sure, okay. I’ll do that.” I’d had to blink repeatedly to focus on his question, and he smiled with possessive amusement.

I cleared my throat and felt a blush rise again. “But you try to get some sleep sometime. Dr. Sloan will probably work you until you drop tonight, getting the circle up around that table.” I leaned forward to give him a quick kiss, but he pulled back, an alarmed expression widening his eyes.

“That would probably be a bad idea until we know more, don’t you think? No kissing until you’re cleared by Dr. Gaetano. And no … other things, either.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Like I said,
other things
haven’t been an issue for a while.” In fact, the last
other thing
I’d indulged in had been with Bruno, years ago. But that was nobody’s business. While I’d never really thought about it, and my therapist, Gwen, had never asked, it was probably significant. The more I thought about that, the weirder it seemed. I could nearly hear Gwen’s voice in my head, asking whether I was carrying a torch for Bruno that hadn’t allowed me to get close to anyone.

Eek.

He took my expression of sudden panic the wrong way. “Good. You’re taking this seriously. Now go.” He trotted off toward the two men standing next to the now-parked, unmarked, Army-style canvas truck. I listened hard, trying to focus on their conversation, but they were whispering and all I got was mud.

That left me and Dr. Gaetano alone. I looked at him and shrugged. “Guess it’s you and me.”

“Let’s get moving. We’ll get you checked into the isolation ward and start the testing.”

Whoa. The
isolation ward
? “Isn’t that a little extreme? I thought you said it was pretty much gone.”

He nodded as he started to walk toward one of the few cars left in the parking lot, a low-slung silver car that was nearly the color of the touch of gray nibbling at his temples. “On your leg, yes. But I have no way of knowing whether your internal organs have been compromised. Until we test to make sure you’re clear of the infection, we have to treat you as infected and contagious.”

Oh, what fun. I got to go from being tied down to locked up. What a terrific night this was turning out to be.

*   *   *

“Again? You just took samples twenty minutes ago. What’s up with the lab tonight?” The technician with a nameplate reading
Brad
was the same guy who’d been in three times in the past two hours. The blue scrubs and blood-draw cart were becoming a regular sight, which wasn’t a good thing. He gave me a dirty look and I gave him one right back. I’d been locked behind glass and silver-steel doors for hours now, dressed in one of those stupid floral print cotton gowns. At least I was still wearing my bra and panties and, oddly, I did feel more covered than wearing the jeans. They’d given me the option to leave on my street clothes, but at least in the gown I wasn’t flashing everyone who walked by down the hallway. Thankfully, Dawna was on her way down with fresh clothes. I felt horrible calling her considering how early she’d gotten up. But I had tried Emma first, who wasn’t home, and Gran didn’t really drive much anymore.

“You think maybe it’s not us but the fact you’re half dead? It’s throwing off every sample we put in.”

Well, yeah. That could be it, too, I suppose. “So why do you keep drawing blood? I thought it was saliva that was infectious.”

He shrugged as he reached for my arm with latex-covered fingers. “Mine is not to ask why. The doctor in charge ordered more blood. I just get it.”

I sighed and tried not to look as he tied off my biceps and pressed for a vein. My eyes closed just before I flinched from the poke of the needle. “You going to leave me any for later? I don’t know how well I replace my supply without help.”

He’d already seen the teeth the first time he’d come in the room—after the nurse who had been first assigned refused to get close enough for me to grab. He wasn’t impressed or afraid, which surprised me.

It was sort of nice. But also sort of weird.

Just as he was pulling out the needle there was a thump against the wall that made us both jump. It was the tenth time since I’d arrived and it was getting annoying. The tech missed with the cotton ball and a small spray of blood followed the needle out of my arm. “Oops. Sorry about that. What was that?”

I held the cotton ball against my arm while he opened yet another Band-Aid. I already had two others on the opposite arm. “Don’t know. But it’s driving me nuts. You’d think an isolation ward would have thick enough walls to not bother the other patients.” When I said “patients” his face lost what little color it already had. I’ve known a lot of lab guys who don’t get in the sun much. But his sudden look at the wall made me realize he might know very well what was on the other side. “What? Who’s in the next room?”

He caught himself and turned a fake smile toward me. I knew it was fake because I’d worn one myself many times. “I need to get these samples back to the lab. The doctor will be in shortly.”

Yeah, right.
Shortly.
That was hospital speak for “whenever the hell he gets here.” I let Brad go without questioning him more, but I would be finding out what was in that next room before I left.

In fact, Dr. Gaetano showed up with another man in a white coat after another hour had gone by. I raised my brows and let out a frustrated sigh and said to neither, and both of them, “Y’know, it would probably be better for patient morale if you didn’t put a clock on the wall to watch the hours tick by. At least a magazine would have helped.”

His gaze flicked up the wall and he nodded before opening the metal chart in his hands. “Good point. We’ll have it removed.” Then he met my eyes and a glimmer of humor peeked out from inside the vivid green. “But luckily for you, the wait is over, so I won’t have to bring you reading material.”

Oh, thank the Lord! “The tests came back negative?”

He nodded once. “Dr. Swanson and I were just going over the results. We’re very fortunate to have him on staff. He’s actually seen cases of M. necrose in the field in the Sudan.”

The short, stocky doctor had a swarthy edge that resembled classic Greek, despite his surname. “I’ve been admonishing Dr. Gaetano for not taking photographs of your calf while the infection was at its peak. It’s hard to judge when the saliva, blood, and tissue appear normal. But I finally found the antibodies I was looking for in your blood in this last sample. It’s just taken a little while for it to develop.”

Oh. Photographs. Yeah, that would have been handy in case there were other victims. Oops. I flinched involuntarily when something hit the wall again. Both the doctors looked at the wall and then at each other. “Okay, so what is that? The tech earlier stared at the wall like it terrified him.”

Dr. Swanson shrugged. “It probably did. Frankly, I’m appalled it’s still here.”

Gaetano let out a weary sigh. “This isn’t Sudan, Panos. The situation’s not that simple.”

The other doctor merely shrugged like it was an argument he wasn’t willing to revive. “Perhaps. But I think it would be useful to show Ms. Graves what she narrowly avoided and why it’s important she’s very open and honest about her recent interactions with people.”

The way he said it made Dr. Gaetano frown and let out a slow breath. “It’s not a freak show. It’s a person’s
life,
Doctor.”

Swanson’s eyes were both sad and fierce. “No. It’s a person’s
death
, Tom. She deserves her life to mean something.”