Amanda Ashley Read online

  I followed her gaze. The window was covered with a heavy green damask drape that would have kept out the light of the brightest day. How, I wondered, how did she know dawn was approaching?

  “You may spend the day here, with me,” she said. “Tomorrow you must find your own place to rest.” She made a sound of disgust when I said nothing, only continued to stand there, staring at her. “Come along,” she said, and taking me by the hand, she led me through a narrow door, up a short flight of stairs, into a small windowless room that was empty save for an ornate casket set upon a raised platform.

  Dropping my hand, she climbed the stairs of the platform and lifted the lid, revealing a lining of deep green satin.

  And then she held out her hand. “Come, Alesandro. The dawn approaches.”

  I stared at her hand in horror. “No.”

  “What’s the matter?” she asked disdainfully. “Surely you’re not afraid of this box?”

  I shook my head, too ashamed to tell her it wasn’t the coffin I feared, though I must confess I was loathe to climb into it. What I feared was the darkness inside.

  “Do as you wish,” she said, her voice tinged with disgust.

  Turning her back to me, she climbed into the casket, her movements as graceful as a reed bending in the wind.

  I stood there for a long while, and then, without knowing how or why, I knew the sun had come up. I felt myself growing heavy, lethargic. The feeling, so unfamiliar, frightened me, and I ran up the stairs and hurled myself into the casket. Lilith was lying on her side to make room for me. She smiled smugly, and then she lowered the lid on the casket, shutting us in darkness.

  A hoarse cry of primal fear rose in my throat, and then I was dragged down into a deep black void, all conscious thought swept away.

  When I awoke the following night, she was gone. I lay there for a moment, my body wracked with pain such as I had never felt before. And then, realizing where I was, I bolted out of the coffin and ran down the stairs to her bedroom.

  She was sitting on a velvet-covered bench, brushing her hair. I realized then that there were no mirrors anywhere in the house.

  “Awake at last?” she asked. “I had rather thought you’d be an early riser, being a farmer and all.”

  “Lilith, help me.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I hurt.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach, certain I was dying, only then remembering that I could not die.

  “It’s nothing to be concerned about,” she remarked. “It will pass after you’ve fed.”

  My gaze darted toward the bed as I remembered the boy she had killed the night before. She had drained his life. That was how she took sustenance. The thought filled me with revulsion, and then, to my horror, I felt my teeth grow long at the thought of the boy’s blood on my tongue.

  “No.” I backed away from her. “I can’t. I won’t.”

  “You can,” she said coldly. “You will.”

  “No, never.”

  “You can come with me now, tonight, and learn to hunt, or you can leave my house and learn to survive on your own.”

  “And if I don’t wish to survive?”

  “Then you have only to wait for sunrise. A fledgling such as yourself will burst into flame at the first touch of the sun.”

  I shuddered at the thought, at the hideous images her words conjured in my mind.

  “There is much you need to learn, Alesandro. I can teach you, or I can destroy you. The choice is yours.”

  I had never thought myself a coward until I faced the very real possibility of dying again. . . .

  Chapter Seven

  He called the hotel again at eight, and at nine, and again at ten. And always the message was the same: Neither Miss Crawford nor her grandmother had checked in.

  Worried now, Alex left the house. Opening the garage door, he pulled his car keys from his pocket and slid behind the wheel of the Porsche. He turned the key in the ignition, listened appreciatively as the engine hummed to life. Backing down the driveway, he headed for Grenvale.

  The Porsche flew down the highway. He had grown to love the sense of freedom he experienced behind the wheel. He felt attuned to the car, almost a part of it.

  He arrived in Grenvale in record time. Leaving the Porsche in the motel parking lot, he locked the car door, then crossed the blacktop to the motel. And again the message was the same: Miss Crawford had not checked in.

  With a curt nod, Alex left the motel. Standing in the shadows, he let his mind expand. Kara, where are you? He waited, listening, and when he sensed no reply, he drove to the hospital. He drove through the parking lot, feeling a ridiculous sense of relief when he saw her car.

  He parked the Porsche next to her Camry, then went into the hospital, determined to find out what was going on.

  The night nurse listened to him patiently, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, “Miss Crawford is in an isolation unit. She’s not allowed any visitors just now.”

  “I want to see her doctor.”

  “I’m afraid he’s left for the night. He should be back first thing in the morning if you’d like to call then.”

  “Can you tell me if she’s all right?”

  “Are you family, sir?”

  “No. Dammit, you’ve got to let me see her.”

  The nurse glanced up and down the hallway, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but Miss Crawford’s fine. She’s just being kept overnight while they wait for the results of her tests. She was a little upset, and her doctor gave her a sedative to help her sleep.”

  “You’re sure she’s all right?”

  “Yessir. I’m sure you’ll be able to see her tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait until then.”

  “Well, you could wait here a while, if you like. I could let you know if I hear anything.”

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled up at him. “You’re welcome, sir.”

  He sat down in one of the hard plastic chairs, aware that the nurse glanced repeatedly in his direction.

  Too restless to sit still for long, he paced the hallway for a time, weighing the wisdom of trying to find Kara on his own.

  On the pretext of going to the cafeteria, he walked through the hospital’s quiet halls. A sign announced that the Isolation Ward was located on the fourth floor.

  Taking the stairs, he walked up to the fourth floor, through the double doors marked ISOLATION UNIT. NO VISITORS BEYOND THIS POINT.

  A guard sat at a small desk just inside the doors. He stood up as Alex entered the room. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said, “No one’s allowed in here without authorization.”

  Alex nodded. “Sorry, I guess I took a wrong turn.” He took a deep breath, felt a surge of relief when he caught Kara’s scent. She was here. Deeply asleep. “I’m looking for Intensive Care.”

  “It’s on the fifth floor, sir.”

  “Thank you.” For a moment, he considered trying to overpower the guard. But the man was well over six feet tall, and built like a Minnesota line backer. In the end, it seemed wiser to go home than risk causing a scene, at least for now. If they didn’t release Kara in the morning, he’d figure out a way to get her the hell out of there.

  Leaving the hospital, Alex drew in a deep breath. A glance at the sky told him dawn was fast approaching.

  It was early morning when he reached home. He slammed the car door, then stalked out of the garage and into the house, wishing he’d followed his gut instinct and done whatever he had to do to bring Kara home.

  He woke late that afternoon, instantly aware that someone had invaded the house. Rising, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, then padded, barefoot, down the stairs to the kitchen.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Gail whirled around, her eyes wide. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “How did you get in?”

  “I . . . the back door was unlocked.”

  Alexander frowned. In h
is concern for Kara, and his need to rest and replenish his strength, he had apparently neglected to bolt the door.

  Gail cleared her throat nervously. “I need your help.”

  He lifted one brow. “Indeed?”

  “I’m worried about Kara.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “We went to see her this morning, but they said we couldn’t, that there’s something wrong with her and she has to stay for more tests. Nana said she wanted Kara to come home, but the nurse said the paper Nana signed authorized them to keep Kara as long as necessary. I’m afraid something’s happened to her and they don’t want to tell us.”

  Alex slammed his hand against the table. He’d known it all along, he thought angrily, known something wasn’t right.

  Seeing the dark look in his eyes, Gail squealed and backed away.

  Alexander took a deep breath. Damn. He hadn’t meant to frighten the girl. “Go on.”

  “That’s all. Nana asked to see Dr. Barrett . . .”

  “Who’s that?”

  “He’s the doctor who admitted Kara to the hospital. But they said he couldn’t be reached. So Nana came home and called Dr. Peterson.”

  “And?”

  “He said he’d get in touch with Dr. Barrett and find out what was going on, only I don’t believe him. I want to see my sister.”

  Gail tried to blink back her tears. She didn’t want to cry in front of this man, didn’t want him to think she was just some whiny kid. “What do you think’s wrong with her?”

  Alexander swore a very old, very vile oath. “I don’t know, Gail, but I’ll find out. I promise you that. Here,” he said, offering her a paper towel, “dry your tears. Does your grandmother know you’re here?”

  “No. She’s so upset, she’s taken to her bed. Mrs. Zimmermann is staying with her.” Gail blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “Do you really think you’ll be able to find out what’s wrong with Kara? I know it’s something awful, or they’d tell us.”

  “I’ll find out what’s going on,” Alexander said. “Don’t doubt it for a minute.”

  Gail sniffed, then smiled. “I believe you.”

  “Good. You’d better run on home now. You don’t want to upset your grandmother. She has enough to worry about.”

  “All right. You’ll call as soon as you find out what’s wrong with Kara?”

  “I will.”

  Impulsively, Gail wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a hug.

  Startled, Alexander could only stare at her. In two hundred years, no child had ever embraced him. It stirred old feelings, familiar feelings that belonged to another life, another time. He felt oddly bereft when she let him go.

  Flashing him a shy smile, Gail ran out of the house.

  Alexander stared out the window. Kara was being kept in isolation. He digested that fact, and knew he was to blame.

  He had given Kara his blood without considering the consequences. Mixing his blood with hers must have caused some sort of chemical imbalance. No doubt the doctors in charge of her case had been told of the abnormality, and when they couldn’t pinpoint it, they had decided to do some experimenting. And what better way to do research than with the source close at hand?

  The thought of Kara being kept in isolation while doctors examined her filled him with fury.

  And a rising sense of dread as he considered the consequences if Kara’s doctors somehow discovered the true cause of the abnormality in her blood.

  He could not leave her there. The risk of discovery was too great. He hadn’t survived for two hundred years by taking unnecessary chances. For her sake, and for his own, he had to get her out of there.

  She woke to darkness. There was a foul taste in her mouth; her stomach felt queasy. For a moment, she lay still, wondering where she was, and then, in a rush, it all came back to her: the examination, Dr. Barrett telling her they wanted to do further tests, her refusal, the prick of the needle in her arm.

  She slid her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Groping in the dark, she found a light switch and turned it on.

  She was in a small, square room furnished with nothing save the bed and a small table. A door led to a tiny bathroom that had a small sink and a toilet. No shower; no tub. There was a plastic glass on the sink, a thin white washcloth, and a bar of soap.

  She washed her hands and face, then filled the glass with lukewarm water and rinsed her mouth. Where was she?

  Returning to the other room, she looked around again. There was a window above the bed. Climbing on the mattress, she pulled back the shade. The window was barred.

  She whirled around as the door opened.

  “You can’t get out that way,” Dale Barrett said.

  “Where am I?”

  Barrett closed the door, then leaned against it. “In isolation.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a nasty-looking syringe. “I need to take some blood.”

  “No.”

  “We can do this easy or hard, Miss Crawford, it’s up to you.” His eyes narrowed ominously. “But mark me well, we will do it.”

  “I want to go home.”

  “All in good time.”

  Kara glanced at the syringe, then at the door.

  Barrett smiled and shook his head. “The hard way, then.” He opened the door, and two men dressed in white lab coats and masks entered the room.

  Kara backed away, but there was no place to go, nothing to use for a weapon, no one to hear her if she screamed. She screamed anyway.

  Screamed in anger when the two men grabbed her arms, screamed with frustration when they forced her down on the bed.

  Screamed in panic when they uncovered the restraints on the bed and strapped her arms and legs to the solid steel frame.

  Barrett stood over her, shaking his head. “This would be so much easier for all of us if you would just cooperate.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I told you before. We found an unknown anti-body in your blood. We haven’t been able to identify it as yet, but it might be toxic. Until we know for sure, we need to keep you isolated, not only for your own protection, but for that of your family and anyone else you might come in contact with.”

  “An unknown antibody,” Kara remarked. “But that’s impossible.”

  “I wish it were. We need to make sure your life isn’t in danger.” Barrett smiled inwardly, pleased with how readily she had accepted the lie. The unknown antibody in her blood seemed to possess remarkable healing powers. If what he suspected was true, if he was able to reproduce that antibody in quantity, he would be able to save countless lives. It was something he had dreamed of all his life. “Henry, roll up her sleeve.”

  Barrett pulled a vial of alcohol and a cotton swab from his pocket, then prepared her arm.

  Kara flinched as Barrett inserted the needle into her vein. Watched, in morbid fascination, as the syringe filled with blood. “I don’t understand. I’ve had blood tests before, and they’ve never found anything unusual,” she said, her voice betraying her panic. “Maybe one of the donors is the one with the unusual blood type. Why don’t you examine them?”

  “We have. Nothing irregular about any of them.”

  “But there has to be!” She stared at the blood. Her blood. Would they take more and more until there was nothing left?

  The room began to spin. Barrett’s face began to blur. “Alexander.” His name was a moan on her lips, a plea, a prayer. “Alexander, help me.”

  She was afraid, so afraid. “No, don’t,” she begged, but it was too late. Barrett had pulled another syringe from his pocket. The needle pricked her arm, and the world spun faster.

  “Alexander!” She tried to scream his name, but no sound emerged from her lips. . . .

  Alex paused as he entered the hospital, all his senses suddenly alert.

  And then he heard Kara’s voice, screaming in his mind, calling his name.

  The lobby was crowded with people. Stifling the urge to run, he made his way down the
hallway to the staircase, then took the stairs two at a time until he reached the Isolation Unit.

  He peered through the glass on one of the doors. There was no one in sight.

  Thanking Fate for his good fortune, he stepped through the door. Kara’s scent was stronger now, tinged with fear. He followed it to a green door located at the end of the hall.

  He listened a moment to ascertain that she was alone; then he opened the door and stepped inside. The room was dark, but he saw her clearly. She was lying on a narrow bed, breathing deeply.

  Silently, he crossed the floor and drew back the covers. He noted absently that she was wearing a pale green hospital gown, but it was the heavy straps confining her arms and legs that held his attention. He swore under his breath as he unfastened the cruel restraints. She stirred slightly, but didn’t awaken.

  The sound of footsteps alerted him that someone was coming. A moment later, the door opened and a slender man in a white lab coat stepped inside and flicked on the light switch.

  “Damn, you gave me a start!” the man exclaimed. “Who are you, anyway?”

  Alexander stared at the tray in the man’s hands, at the number of syringes it held. A line from a movie sprang quickly to mind. He uttered it with a wry smile. “Your worst nightmare.”

  “Yeah, well get the hell out of here. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Indeed?”

  For the first time, the man seemed to realize he was in danger. “I . . . uh, I can come back later.”

  “I don’t think so. What kind of tests are you doing on the girl?”

  “Just blood tests,” the man said, taking a wary step backward. “One of the doctors seems to think her blood has some sort of unusual healing agent.”

  “Indeed? Tell me more.”

  “I can’t. I’m not a doctor or a scientist. I just take samples of blood and urine, that’s all.”

  “You’re lying.”

  The man swallowed noisily. “I . . . uh, overheard them saying they’d injected a diseased rabbit with a little of her blood and the animal recovered completely in a matter of hours.”

  Alexander swore softly. He knew his blood had saved Kara’s life; it had not occurred to him that her blood might now have the same ability to heal. He glanced past the man, closing the door with the power of his mind.