The Source (23 page)

“Whatever,” I say trying for nonchalance as I right
myself and turn the ignition. “Might not have anything to do with being a
vampire and just how hot you are.” I immediately regret my choice of words. I
try not to close my eyes since I was getting ready to drive, but I
refuse
to look at him in this moment. Still, morbid curiosity keeps my peripheral
vision on hyper-alert.

I can tell that he is still looking at me as I pull out
of the parking space. He makes a sound like he is clearing his throat, although
I can’t imagine what would get stuck in a vampire’s throat. “Huh, so I’m hot?”
he asks.

I instantly feel the heat spread all over my face. I
thank every higher power that it is night so my embarrassment is shrouded in
darkness. Still not looking at him I say, “I was merely suggesting that maybe
that’s what she thought and why she acted that way. You know, there might
actually be another reason than the fact you have fangs.” I pray that I sound
just indignant enough to be believable.

I sneak a glance at him long enough to see a big,
sinister grin on his face. “It’s okay that you agree with her,” he states
matter-of-factly.

“Agree with her?”

He adjusts himself in his seat, “Yeah. It’s not a
problem that you think I’m hot.”

I think please, God, let me die right now. “Wow,” I begin,
my voice ever so slightly shaking, “you must think a lot about yourself. I do
NOT think you’re hot.”

He laughs. “That’s okay, too. But I’ve known for a
long time. You can’t hide these things from a vampire. With our heightened
sense, we can smell excitement and sometimes even hear when your heart races. A
sociopath is probably the only human who could hide such things from a vampire.
So don’t feel badly about it.”

I can’t breathe. At the same time I feel like there is
an elephant sitting on my chest while millions of ants crawl and gnaw all over
my skin, urging me to run out and find something to soothe my ache. How can I
work like this? Now that I knew that he can basically tell everything about me?
I am so stupid! I should have realized all of this after our discussion about
empathy and suggestion. For a smart gal, I sure suffer from episodes of logic
block that put me in the most uncomfortable situations.

He said he could smell my excitement. There goes the
project. Instead of focusing, I know I’m going to be uber-aware of what I am
feeling and thinking, all while wondering how much of it he is picking up on.
Not to mention that I am going to constantly question what he’s thinking about
in response, since I have no way of knowing unless he tells me. Dangit! All I
will do is question.

I stop in front of the facility, turn off the ignition
and try to act as if it were completely normal to drive in utter silence after
learning that my private feelings are not exactly private. People worry about
the government listening in and invading their privacy. How many times do you
encounter people - or vampires - who can do the same thing
without
any
technological help? Not only are you unaware of it, there is absolutely no
physical evidence that it’s happening. You would only know if they tell you.
Yeah, maybe it is true that ignorance is bliss because in this situation, I SO
totally wish I didn’t know.

Before I can get out of the car Rick grabs my arm. My
whole body tightens before I look at him. I try not to sound too crabby, but
probably fail. “What?”

He holds my gaze, not moving, not saying anything. A
cozy warmth fills my body as I begin to feel light enough to float up to the
clouds. The knocking sensation inside my chest stops. I want to stretch my arms
to the sky and lounge in a bed of soft grass while soaking up the rays of the
sun, surrounded by the smell of honeysuckle and wild violets.

Still holding my arm, Rick says, “There’s no need to
panic.”

I blink slowly. As if coming out of a fog, my mind
clearing, I jerk my arm away from him. “Dammit, Rick. I told you not to do
that. When are you going to start respecting my wishes?”

He smiles at me, which only infuriates me more. He
looks out the window as he starts to open his door to get out of the car. He
glances back at me and lifts his shoulders in an almost imperceptible shrug.

“If it comforts you any,” he begins, “I think you’re
hot, too.”

And just like that he is gone. The car door shuts and
he is nowhere to be seen.

I don’t know whether to be happy or mad. Add to that
embarrassment, excitement, aggravation and a little bit of lust and I am
inebriated on one serious emotional cocktail. 

I take a deep breath to steel my nerves as I get out
of the car. I thankfully remember to get the bag out of the glove compartment.
I lean back in and pull the handle to find that the bag is gone. Rick must have
taken it when he left. He did it so quickly that I didn’t even realize it.

Huh. Maybe I’m not the only one who was embarrassed.

I walk into our research suite to find Rick is at the
center island, apparently reading through his notes. Or maybe he is trying to
look busy. There goes me questioning everything even more than I did before.
Confusion is a garment best flung to the side like dirty underwear.
Unfortunately for me, the only way to do that is by getting everything out into
the open. GOD. I so don’t want to do this. But I need the money this project
could bring me, so I can’t afford for anything to get in the way of us doing
the best we can. Plus, maybe talking about things will confirm that he really
does think I’m hot and wasn’t just saying that to make me feel better - his own
way of smoothing the most recent wrinkle in our working relationship.

I walk to the center island and just stand there.
Resting my hands against the counter, it’s like I am waiting for some sign from
the powers that be that getting things out in the open will be a good thing. Or
maybe that was just my ego trying to save face. I open my mouth several times,
but nothing comes out. Rick continues to shuffle through his papers. I can feel
my created courage slipping away.

Rick looks up at me, holding my gaze for a few
heartbeats. A small smile plays over his lips. “I was telling the truth. Yes, I
think about you at times. That shouldn’t surprise you because even human men do
that when they find a woman attractive. That doesn’t mean that I’m planning to
make any moves on you or jump you the first chance I get. I respect you and
your work. I won’t do anything to jeopardize it.”

I let out a strained breath. I smile as I nod at him.
I reach for the Wal-Mart bag. “Well, I guess we should get started with our
little experiment.”

The door to our suite opens and Mr. Caulfield enters
without much fanfare. He’s accompanied by a petite black woman with a big smile
on her face.

“Dr. Allstedt, Dr. Burcham,” he motions to both of us.
“I apologize for the much-needed interruption. There has been a change in
archivists working with the research teams.” He motions to the smiling woman by
his side. “This is Ms. Gwen Caverton. She is your new archivist.”

Rick and I both approach her to shake her hand. “What
happened to Ms. Montgomery?” I ask.

“She has be re-assigned to the team of Dr. Vinh and
Dr. Krishnamurthy,” he responds.

What happened to Tucker, I wonder. Rick beats me to
it.

“I thought Tucker was their archivist. Has he fallen
ill?”

Mr. Caulfield’s cheek twitches. He simply states, “Mr.
Dutrieux has decided to seek opportunities elsewhere.”

I glance at Rick as he smiles at our new
peeping-Thomasina. “Welcome, Ms. Caverton. It’s a pleasure to have a fresh face
on the team.”

She smiles brightly, white teeth glistening. “Thank
you very much. I’m excited to be here.” Her accent is decidedly Deep South.
Maybe this would deflect attention from my hillbilly drawl.

Mr. Caufield nods ever so slightly. “Very well. I will
let you get back to your work.” With that he abruptly leaves the suite.

I smile nervously at Gwen. “Well, Ms. Coverton. We
were getting ready to do an experiment. Will you be staying to observe?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am,” she replies. “And please, call me
Gwen.”

I tilt my head toward her, smiling. “Okay, Gwen. And
please. Call me Emma.”

“Not Emma Jean?” Rick asks.

I glare at him. “Just Emma will be fine.” I turn back
to Gwen. “You’ll have to excuse Dr. Allstedt. He’s made a sport of trying to
humiliate me.”

Rick laughs and reaches to shake Gwen’s hand again.
“Call me Rick. Like I said, it’s good to have you on the team.”

She beams. “Thank you all for the warm welcome. I’ll
just sit at the table and take notes while you all work.”

We all smile at each other before she turns to
backtrack to the table. Rick and I look at each other briefly, still smiling,
before we return to the center island. I have a good feeling about Gwen. I’m
usually pretty good with first impressions, at least with humans. Gwen seems to
be a lot friendlier than Ms. Montgomery. I think she and I are going to get
along famously. I can actually see myself being friends with her, which I
couldn’t say about mousy Sarah Montgomery.

Still, I wonder what happened to Tucker and why they
didn’t just assign Gwen to the other team. I will have to see if Ms. Montgomery
knows anything, if I get the chance to talk to her again.

I lean over to get the mortar and pestle from the
cabinets in the island. After setting them on the counter, I look at my watch.
“The night’s almost over. Should we wait to do this tomorrow evening so we have
more time to make our notes?”

Rick looks at me with his lips pursed into a thin
line. “We have plenty of tablets in the bottle. We could at least try it once
so that we know if we’re on the right track or need to focus on something else
tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I nod, “sounds like a plan. Right. Let’s get
started.”

I take the Wal-Mart bag and remove the bottle of
vitamin D. After opening the bottle, I take one of the tablets and place it in
the mortar. I begin using the pestle to crush the white tablet into a fine
powder. Once I’m finished, I lay the pestle on the counter and look at Rick. He
nods and lays his arm across the counter.

“Are you sure you want to do this? We could always
wait until tomorrow and request Thalia.”

His lips twitching he says, “It’s fine. You and I both
know that Bree and Abe are working like crazy to make up for the time they have
lost. If they were as close as we were, they could pull ahead of us again if we
don’t stay on track. Let’s take this first step now, then we’ll know what steps
we need to take tomorrow.”

I take a spoon from the cabinet, wash it with
sterilizing liquid and use compressed air to dry it. I load the spoon about halfway
with the vitamin D powder. I raise my eyes to look at Rick as I carefully move
the spoon closer to his outstretched arm. His lips are pulled tight in
anticipation of what will happen in the next few moments. His half-lidded eyes remain
trained on the spoon as it gets closer and closer.

Wanting this to be over and scared of what’s going to
happen, I quickly sprinkle the powder on his arm. Nothing happens except for
his skin slightly twitching. Then very quickly his arm begins to turn red, with
the skin bubbling all around the affected area. Just like that, the powder
starts to eat through the layers of his skin like acid. Rick howls as he rushes
to the sink to wash the powder from his skin in hopes of stifling the pain. I
stumble after him, helpless in what I can do for him and terrified that the
process can’t be stopped once it has started. I have images of the reaction
spreading all over him until he is completely consumed, finally, truly dead. My
gut wrenches as my heart races, further betraying the fact that I don’t want
anything bad to happen to him.

Rick furiously splashes cold water up and down his arm
as he continues to release a guttural growl. The water goes from sparklingly
clear to a foamy red as it mixes with the remnants of his blood and ravaged
skin tissue. Rick’s motions start to slow as his shoulders begin to relax and
his groans turn into the panting of a marathon runner who just completed Death
Race 2012.

He places folded paper towels on his wet, marred arm.
He turns to look at me, his mouth slightly opens to show that his fangs have
extended. Taking a step back, the only thing I can think to say is, “Now we
know.”

The suite door busts open and Gwen runs toward us with
a fire extinguisher. Breathing heavily she screams, “Are you all okay?”

Rick turns, baring his fangs. I cock my head to the
side, looking at her. “Why do you have a fire extinguisher?”

Swinging the extinguisher, “I thought there was a
fire. I smelled a God-awful odor, then saw Rick rush to the water basin. So I
ran into the hallway to get an extinguisher before we all went up in flames.”

I continue to look at her, amazement all over my face.
“But I thought that you were just supposed to observe. You’re not supposed to
get involved.”

“Yeah,” she responds, “until fire breaks out and my
ass could be part of the kindling. No thank you. Saving my ass, first.
Government project, sometime after that.”