|
Bibliography |
|
Mitch Greer - Whitby |
|
Viv came over and stood on her tip-toes to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Mitch, mon cher, we are here.” She gave Chris a glance and lowered her voice to a whisper. “We came in the back door so as to avoid the Breeder. I do not know how you stand having that woman close to you. She gives me fits.” “Me too, Viv.”I ruffled her hair. “You didn’t happen to see Deirdre on the way over here, did you?” Sam stood up. “She’s not here? I need to speak with her and you as soon as possible. I’ve been testing the blood samples she gave me the other day and, well,” he gave Chris a concerned look, “let’s go upstairs.” “I was just about to go out looking for her, Sam. Can’t it wait?” “No. I’m afraid not. Chris?” He smiled his best doctor smile at the boy, “Why don’t you take the dog into your room if you can carry him? He should sleep for a while and he’ll be more comfortable there.” Chris carefully picked up the sedated dog and went into the small bedroom off the kitchen. “Shall we go upstairs then, Mitch?” Viv crooked her hand into my arm and hugged me to her briefly, resting her head lightly on my shoulder. From that, if nothing else, I knew. And my heart fell. “Damn. Is the news that bad, Sam?” He looked at me and shook his head. “Let’s talk about it upstairs. There are things I need to say that can’t be done with,” and he cocked his head in the direction of the bar, “her listening.” Holding the door open, I gestured for them to precede me, then followed the two of them up the stairs and, ignoring Maggie’s curious look, unlocked the door to our apartment and closed it behind us. The flat was small, with a tiny bathroom and kitchen, a seating area of couch and chairs around the fireplace and our bed on the other side of the room. The steel door and shutters had been Deirdre’s and my addition to the decor, sure as hell not pretty but they served their purpose. With them shut, we could sleep in safety, knowing that not one ray of sun would ever penetrate our nest. The steel also served as a deterrent to Others armed with crossbows and guns with wooden bullets. I looked over to where Sam and Vivienne stood hesitating right in front of the closed door. “So what is it?” Sam cleared his throat. “Sit down, this may take a while. And afterwards we’ll all go out and help you find Deirdre.” “Fine.” I settled down on the couch and Sam on one of the chairs, but Vivienne did not join us in the seating area. Instead she seemed uncharacteristically nervous and paced around before walking into our tiny kitchen. “Have you any wine, Mitch?” she called. “I could use a drink, we probably all could.” “You’ll find a few bottles in there. Open what you like. I’ll have a scotch, thanks. And if you’re hungry, there are still some bags of blood left in the fridge.” Sam looked uncomfortable. “Probably best if you throw those out, Mitch. It’s part of what I have to tell you. But first I want to say that it’s not all bad news.” "Are we playing the doctor’s good news/bad news game now? Just tell me, dammit. It’s not like you to sugar-coat the medicine, Sam. Get to it.” Vivienne walked back into the room, carrying a tray with drinks, scotch for me and wine for her and Sam. She put it on the coffee table, picked up the two wine glasses and sat on the far arm of Sam’s chair. He sipped at his wine then set it down and cleared his throat. “A lot of this is theory, Mitch, but I’ll give it to you in layman’s terms as much as possible. Simply put, Deirdre is changing; the poison in her blood has done more than block her memories. It’s done something unprecedented, something I’d not have believed possible, if I hadn’t seen it with my own two eyes. I went to reexamine the samples I’d collected from her just two days ago and saw that even in the test tubes, the cells were changing. Evolving. Transforming into something completely different from what they’d been before. And into something different from any blood cells I’d ever seen, human, animal or even vampire.” “What?” Sam shook his head. “I don’t know exactly. I have my theories on it, of course, but I can’t know for sure. In fact the only way I can know anything certain is to continue with my tests.” “Okay,” I said, “Deirdre is changing. What exactly does this change mean?” “It means,” he paused and sipped his wine. Vivienne rubbed his shoulders gently. “If the poison can’t be arrested or reversed, but is allowed to continue in its purpose, it means, simply, that Deirdre won’t be a vampire for much longer. The change is occurring rapidly in the dormant blood samples, I’ve no way to gauge how quickly it could occur in her, but I can only assume the process will be accelerated.” “And when she changes? What then? She’ll be human?” “No, as far as I can tell she won’t be human either.” I reached over, grabbed my glass and drained half of it in one gulp. It didn’t help. Laying my head against the back of the couch, I closed my eyes for a second, trying to get a grip on what Sam said. Deirdre, not a vampire? Not human? Transforming into what? What the hell else was there? When I opened my eyes again, Vivienne nodded at me. I’d never seen her this serious. Ever. And with a cold slap of realization I saw that she was frightened. Frightened for Deirdre. Frightened for herself. Frightened for all of us. This very formidable woman had lived through the French Revolution, lived through the destruction of Cadre headquarters, lived through the recent years of persecution and through God knows how many other disasters and tragedies, and had managed all of it with a smile on her face, secure in her self and her powers. And she was frightened now? Shivering slightly, I finished my drink and slammed the glass down on the coffee table. Both Sam and Vivienne jumped and I gave them a weak smile. “Sorry. It slipped. So what do we do now?” Sam looked guilty. There was more he wasn’t telling me. What on earth could be worse than what he’d already said? “We go and find her, if she’s not already back, Mitch. And then we’ll see what I can find out. There may very likely be a way to hold back the change, maybe even to reverse it. I feel sure of it. But I can’t do anything unless she’s present.” “And if there’s not a way?” Sam looked away, but Vivienne got up from her perch on the arm of the chair, crossed over to me and placed tiny cold hands on my cheeks, searchiing my face with grey eyes slightly misted over with tears. “She will die, Mitch, mon amour. She will die.” |