The Calling - Danger Calls Part 8

"You can thank me by closing your eyes and trying to get some sleep." He drew her close, wrapping one arm around her bare back while with the other he drew a throw over her naked body.

She could have argued, but she was too tired, both emotionally and physically. And it felt too right to lie beside him. Except for one thing. He had way too many clothes on.

She closed her eyes and embraced him.

Diana snuggled into Ryder's side, but the only warmth there was that of her own body. It was still one of the things she was getting used to even after months of being his lover. But his earlier disappearing act that night..." How did you do it?" Now in the quiet aftermath of their lovemaking, she hoped he'd provide an answer. Instead, all she got was the slight tightening of his body next to hers.

"I don't know. Although I'm certain that isn't what you want to hear."

Diana cradled her head with the arm she propped on the bed. She gazed down at her lover. Her vampire lover. Raising her free hand, she laid it over the center of his chest, directly above his heart. There was a beat there. A steady beat that grew intense with their loving. A gentle and tender heart, she knew, for he loved her and cared deeply for Melissa.

But he didn't care for himself. It was the reason he knew so little about himself and others like him. "It's unfair of you to not find out, Ryder," she said. "To yourself and to Melissa."

His tension grew. It was evident in the increasing stiffness of his body beneath her hand. She wasn't surprised when he pulled away from her and slipped from the bed.

She watched as he dressed. "Where are you going?"

"To find vampire friends. That isn't going to happen during the daytime. Isn't that what you want? What you think Melissa needs?

So she'll be free-"

Diana jumped out of bed. She knew his anger wasn't just about Melissa. "Ryder, I am free. And I've already made my choice, mi amor." She raised herself on tiptoe and kissed him.

He was unyielding against her, so she deepened the pressure of her kiss and wrapped her arms around him. Slowly his tension ebbed and when it did, he said against her lips, "I wish I knew more. About myself and others. I know there are others."

It was impossible to miss the heartfelt wish in the tone of his voice. "In time, Ryder, you need to find out more. For yourself and for Melissa."

Ryder brought his arms beneath her legs and picked her up, taking her back to bed. Laying her on the dark maroon-colored sheets, he paused to admire her physical beauty, only a small part of what made him love her. "And what about for you, darlin'?

Shouldn't I know it for you?"

Her smile was knowing and determined. "You know all you need to know for me, Ryder."

"And that is?" he asked as he pressed her down into the mattress.

"That I love you."

He cared for her, Sebastian thought as he held Melissa and observed her sleeping. Of course, his emotions were all wrapped up in the protectiveness he felt toward her and his fear for her safety.

Funny, he'd never thought of himself as a protector kind of guy. But that was what he was feeling. Not good. What if he couldn't handle the danger?

He would never be able to forgive himself if he failed her.

Better to get out now, Sebastian told himself. Before he lost his heart to her. Before her feelings for him became more than physical. He knew Melissa had suffered too much rejection in her life and he didn't want to be the cause of more.

Armed with that knowledge, he slowly moved from her side, which wasn't easy since one arm had fallen asleep beneath the slight weight of her body. She barely moved, but the throw shifted, revealing one breast, the nipple relaxed without his caresses. Full and soft, just waiting for him to...

He groaned and with a shaky hand pulled the throw over her shoulders. He would finish this night's job and leave.

Before it was too late.

Which it might be already, he realized as with every set of pages scanned he found himself looking her way and wishing things could be different. That he could be the kind of man she needed.

And not what he was.

The slight shift of his weight and the sudden chill the absence of his body brought alerted her to the fact he was leaving. She wanted to protest, but knew it was better this way. She was still too confused about all that had gone on.

As she watched him through barely opened eyes, she saw his bewilderment. Saw his longing, which tugged at her heart.

Only Melissa knew his longing was ephemeral. When all was done, his emotions might be no more than a pa.s.sing fancy brought about by the weird circ.u.mstances into which they'd both been thrown. Like the last time. When Sebastian was faced with the reality that her daily existence revolved around Ryder-as it had to, she reminded herself-Sebastian would be gone.

He'd already warned her that he wasn't cut out to be a hero.

She'd already had a taste of what it was to be with him then have him leave. Their one night together had left her wondering and wishing for things that couldn't be. Tonight had her wanting even more, and she knew it would be more difficult to deal with his exiting her life once again.

And he would go. She didn't have whatever it took for long-term emotional involvements.

Her parents had taught her that.

So she pretended to be asleep until he was done with his work. When he came to her side to let her know he was done, she pretended that he had just woken her.

"I have to go."

She sat up, the throw tucked tight against her chest to hide her nakedness. "I know," she replied, awkwardly taking the journals he handed her in one hand while clutching the blanket with the other.

There was an uncomfortable moment when he seemed about to bend down to kiss her, but he didn't. Instead, he stood before her, ill at ease, and then gave her a curt nod. "See you tomorrow?"

"Sure," she answered readily. Too readily.

He seemed to recognize it for the lie it was. He gave her a tight smile and quickly left the room.

Melissa hugged the journals to her, telling herself that they were what was important in her life right now. Something in them might hold information about her parents' murders. Might even help her find a way to deal with Ryder's condition.

But the vague possibilities of those thoughts lacked the appeal of the very solid warmth of Sebastian's reality.

Chapter 12.

T he inoculation of a new rat with the unusual cell strain from the remaining Danvers rat had been a bust. Within an hour of being infected, the rat had developed high fevers that could not be controlled. Convulsions had followed and barely three hours had gone by when the new subject died from uncontrolled hemorrhaging.

Confusing, given the apparent healing properties and seeming longevity the cell strain had bestowed on the earlier subjects. Taken directly, the strain was virulent and deadly, which might prove useful in other applications.

But not now.

The current interest was in discovering how it could heal. Healing being the most imperative demand at this moment. With the failure of every other avenue of vaccination, and the final rat literally on its last legs, there were no choices left.

Unfortunately, if Melissa had other journals, she was guarding them closely. Surveillance had shown her doing nothing other than routine hospital work.

It was time for a personal visit to see what she was up to.

The news Diana had for Melissa the next day was a mixed bag.

First, the anomaly in Sloan's history was due to a stint he had done with the National Security Agency. His records were sealed and open only to those with the highest of security credentials, leaving Diana with no way of obtaining additional information for the moment.

Second, Diana's detective friend, Peter Daly, had been able to pry from the Burglary Division the fact that they had a possible suspect in the hospital break-in. An APB had been sent out for the man and the Burglary Division would let Daly know more about him as soon as they had collared the suspect.

Last, and most important as far as Melissa was concerned, Diana had nosed around Sara's neighborhood and confirmed Sara's story about the santero and her mother. While the santero's request for human blood was a little odd, Santeria was a recognized religion. Unless he violated a law, there was little they could do about him.

"So you think we can rule Sara out?" Melissa asked, gripping the phone tightly while she waited for an answer.

"There's nothing to connect Sara to this possible burglary suspect, but I would still be cautious around her."

Melissa held her breath for a moment before asking her final question. "How do we get more info on Edward? If his record is sealed-"

"Let's discuss that tonight." There was a pause and Melissa heard someone in the background, as if they had just walked into Diana's office. A second later Diana came back on the line. "I have to run. I should be at Ryder's by nine. Is that good for you?"

Melissa confirmed that it was. She'd just hung up the phone when a knock came at the door.

"Come in."

Dr. Edward Sloan stepped in, wearing a navy blue Brooks Brothers suit, starchy white shirt, and a blue-and-red striped tie.

Raising one bushy gray eyebrow, he said, "I see things are back to normal after the burglary. I hope I'm not interrupting anything right now."

Melissa shrugged, uncertain of the reason for Edward's visit. "You were a great comfort that night, Edward. And it's always good to see you," she said even though the last thing she wanted was his company until she knew more.

Edward's blue eyes were alert and a.s.sessing as he sat in one of her guest chairs. "You seem worried. Was anything important taken?" Suddenly facing the possibility that Edward had something to do not only with the missing journal, but with her parents' deaths sent a shiver of fear through Melissa. She fought down panic and forced a smile. "Turns out the only things missing were my scrip pad and some spare change for the soda machine."

"Are you sure?" His concern seemed real enough. For a moment, Melissa took comfort in it, recalling how his presence had been a balm since the crash that had killed her parents. And then she remembered that Edward was a suspect in their deaths.

"Luckily, nothing else." She grabbed a pile of papers and shuffled them, trying not to tip him off to the fact that she was unsure about him.

Edward rubbed his hands together, seemingly rea.s.sured. "Well, that's wonderful then. In the meantime, you know where to reach me."

Edward had a.s.sumed Frederick Danvers's position as chief of hematology at the hospital. In that capacity, Edward had made a point of trying to help his old colleague's daughter. In fact, he had become a mentor of sorts, guiding her through the maze of hospital politics and acting as a sounding board on some of her more complicated cases. But with doubt about Edward looming large in her mind, there was nothing her father's old friend could provide at the moment. "I know where to reach you. I just need to do a few more things so I can get some rest before being on call again."

He nodded as he rose from the chair. His movements were stiff and almost a little tenuous. "Am I glad these old bones don't have to worry about that anymore." As he turned and walked toward the door, he tossed over his shoulder, "Let me know if you need anything."

Wanting to make it seem as if nothing was out of the ordinary between them, she said, "Maybe later this afternoon you can take a look at one of my cases. I could use your help with it."

Edward favored her with a small smile. Melissa told herself it was her imagination that made it seem like a snake's sibilant smirk.

"I'll be back later, then."

It was unusual for Melissa to leave the hospital for her break, but occasionally she and Sara grabbed a quick lunch together at a nearby restaurant. Sara had actually surprised her today by suggesting they go out for a bite. The outing would give Melissa time to talk with Sara away from prying eyes.

At lunch they left the hospital together and walked a few blocks to a small Mexican restaurant they both loved. After the waiter left their nachos and promised to return with their meals, Melissa mustered the courage to begin the conversation.

"How's your mom?"

"The same," Sara replied in a flat tone.

"The other day you mentioned-"

"The santero?" Sara shrugged and grabbed a tortilla chip loaded with cheese from the platter. "I dropped off the blood and he promised me he'd see Mami in a few days."

"Did you pay him anything?" If Sara had, maybe Diana's friend could investigate the man for possible fraud charges.

"He doesn't ask for any money. If you're happy with what he does, you're free to leave what you can. Money. Food. Alcohol."

Chewing on a chip thoughtfully, Melissa wondered just what kind of con the santero was running. Or maybe she was being cynical. Maybe he really had some kind of healing ability. Modern science occasionally failed where other kinds of alternative methods succeeded.Her father would have tried anything to help her mother. He would have moved the earth and the sky. Although nothing in the journals suggested it, maybe her father had resorted to means as drastic as Sara's santero.

"You okay?" Sara laid her hand over Melissa's as if sensing Melissa's upset.

"You said my father was doing experiments. How did you know that?"

"I ran into him in the hallway once. I had a rack filled with blood samples ready to go to the lab."

"Ran into-"

"As in literally ran into." Sara made two fists with her hands and banged them together to emphasize what had happened. "My rack hit the floor along with the one your father had in his hands. Luckily none of the tubes broke, but he made a big fuss about having his samples. Said it was something he was working on and couldn't be mixed in with the patients' samples."

A sick knot formed in Melissa's stomach. There was a very short list for what might have been in those test tubes.

"Are you sure you're okay ' cause you are looking exceptionally pale."

Melissa snapped out of it, not wanting to alarm Sara. "I know what it's like to be desperate to make someone better."

"Your mami was sick for a long time, verdad?"

Melissa was about to answer when the waiter moved the almost-full plate of nachos aside and deposited their orders. The tone of the conversation had stolen her appet.i.te, but at the enticing smells coming from the plate of quesadillas in front of her, hunger returned with a vengeance.

She picked up her fork and motioned to Sara's plate. "Eat. My mother had been sick since she was a child. She met my father when she went to the hospital for treatments. Some said it was a miracle she was alive as long as she was."