The Savior (Black Dagger Brotherhood 17)
Murhder waited for the Brotherhood’s doctor to pump the brakes on the idea. Then he glanced at Xhex and figured she’d be shaking her head. Finally, he checked out John and expected him to no-thank-you the offer.
When none of that happened, he tried not to get excited. Failed.
And had to remind himself that ultimately it was not going to work. Sarah couldn’t stay in their world, and the longer she was involved with vampires, the more memories she gathered, and the more difficult and painful it was going to be to clean her out.
Short-term stuff was one thing. Long-term was a different story.
Sarah shrugged. “Besides, after tonight, I’m out of a job anyway. Likely out of a career when I come forward with what I know.”
The Brotherhood’s doctor spoke up. “What was your name? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch it.”
“Dr. Sarah Watkins.” She put her palm out. “As I said, I specialize in immunotherapy for cancer patients and I am about to have a lot of time on my hands.”
“I’m Jane.” The two shook hands. “Dr. Jane Whitcomb.”
“Pleased to meet you.” There was a long pause. “Do you mind if I make some phone calls first?”
Murhder stepped up. “Sarah? Look at me, please. Just for a moment.”
This time, without her incredible intellect distracted by the thing that interested it most, he found getting into her consciousness and staying there much easier.
Images rose from out of the depths of her memories, sunken boats floating to the surface of her own private sea. He saw a lot of a human man and guessed it was her fiancé—no surprise, he had an instant dislike of the guy. He also saw a lot of the inside of a laboratory not unlike the one they had infiltrated at the site. He further saw a simple house, with simple furnishings, and a bed that was messy only on one side.
He also caught the recollections of an FBI agent showing up on the doorstep of that simple house … and how she had made the man a coffee and sat down with him to answer questions about her dead fiancé.
Sarah had been unnerved by the whole thing.
Murhder slipped a patch over those memories associated with the FBI agent, effectively disappearing any mental trace of that visitor and his line of inquiry. Gone. As if she’d never met the man.
As he withdrew from her consciousness, she winced and rubbed her temples. “Does anyone have a Motrin? I’ve got a heck of a headache.”
“I’ll get you some,” Xhex said as she turned and went back up the stairs.
Murhder took a deep breath. “Sarah, exactly how open-minded are you?”
It wasn’t exactly a question.
More like a prayer of his.
As Doc Jane went off somewhere with her phone up to her ear and her voice at whisper level, and Murhder and the human researcher went back to the kitchen, John turned to the sofa and looked at the pretrans who was sitting under a quilt and watching everything with wide, exhausted eyes.
John lifted his palm at the kid.
“Hi,” the boy said back. “You don’t talk?”
John shook his head and went over to a rocking chair. When he sat down, the thing creaked like it might lose its structural integrity under his weight, but somehow the antique managed to hold him.
“What happened to your voice?” the young asked. “Were you hurt?”
John shook his head and then shrugged.
“You were born like that and you don’t know why.” When John nodded, the kid seemed sad. “I’m sorry.”
John shrugged again and put up his palms, all what-can-you-do. Then he pointed into the other room, to Doc Jane, and gave the boy a thumbs-up.
“You trust her?” John put his hand over his heart, closed his eyes, and nodded. “You trust her with your life.”
John gave the a-okay sign. Then pointed to the kid and made the a-okay sign.
“You think I’m going to be all right?”
John nodded, made the cross in front of his chest, and then pointed his finger like a gun, put it to his temple and pulled the trigger.
The young smiled. “Cross your heart, hope to die.”
John jammed a thumb toward his eyeball.
“Stick a finger in your eye.”
John made the a-okay sign again.
The boy got serious. “I knew my mahmen was dead. Last night, I was asleep in the cage, and all of a sudden, I felt someone shake me awake. As I sat up … I felt like she was sitting next to me, the way it used to be, the two of us together. It made me miss her so much. And then the feeling went away. It was like she visited me on her way unto the Fade.”
John nodded and put his hand over his heart, rubbing.
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” When John nodded again, the young took a deep breath. “I told the doctor what the last month has been like. The humans at the lab, they were getting excited because my readings are all messed up. My mahmen, she told me if I lived this long that I had to watch for signs that my change was coming. She also told me that I had to get out of that lab before the transition hit. The humans weren’t going to know what to do to get me through it.”
John shook his head. Then he exposed his watch, tapped it, and pointed at the young.
“How old am I? I’m twenty. Or at least I think I am that old. Sometimes I’m not sure whether I count the years correctly. It’s kind of messed up in my head. My mahmen, she told me I’d go through the change at about twenty-five, but that stress could add or subtract from that.”
John let the kid talk it all out and decided that one good thing about being mute was that he was able to give people a lot of space to share what was going on for them. And the more the kid chatted to him, the more he returned to his own past, to when he’d been scrawny and living in that rat hole, calling the Suicide Prevention Hotline, praying for Mary’s voice on the other line.
This young was just as lost as he had been.
And like John, he’d been found in a nick of time.
Jesus, it made him sick to his stomach to think of what would have happened to the pretrans if he hadn’t been rescued tonight—because the kid was right. Those humans couldn’t have gotten him to a female of the species—hell, they probably didn’t even know they had to. And if he’d hit the transition without the proper vein to take, he was going to die outright.
Unfortunately, sometimes the young died anyway. Even if they had help.
A powerful worry took up root in John’s chest as he stared across the safe house’s sitting room. For some reason, he didn’t want anything to happen to this young.
Funny, how what you had in common with a stranger could turn them into family so quickly.
“Were you scared when you went through the change?” the young asked.
John nodded. And then he pointed to himself and flashed the thumbs-up.
“But you made it. And you’re big and okay.”
As John nodded again, the kid took a deep breath. “Do you think they’ll let the human woman stay with me? And the big male?”
John nodded, even though he wasn’t sure what was going to happen. But come on, surely the Brotherhood would give the young a break? And he was very close to the transition. John could scent it.
“I just don’t …” Those eyes gleamed with tears. “I’ve been alone for a really long time and I’m scared.” er waited for the Brotherhood’s doctor to pump the brakes on the idea. Then he glanced at Xhex and figured she’d be shaking her head. Finally, he checked out John and expected him to no-thank-you the offer.
When none of that happened, he tried not to get excited. Failed.
And had to remind himself that ultimately it was not going to work. Sarah couldn’t stay in their world, and the longer she was involved with vampires, the more memories she gathered, and the more difficult and painful it was going to be to clean her out.
Short-term stuff was one thing. Long-term was a different story.
Sarah shrugged. “Besides, after tonight, I’m out of a job anyway. Likely out of a career when I come forward with what I know.”
The Brotherhood’s doctor spoke up. “What was your name? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch it.”
“Dr. Sarah Watkins.” She put her palm out. “As I said, I specialize in immunotherapy for cancer patients and I am about to have a lot of time on my hands.”
“I’m Jane.” The two shook hands. “Dr. Jane Whitcomb.”
“Pleased to meet you.” There was a long pause. “Do you mind if I make some phone calls first?”
Murhder stepped up. “Sarah? Look at me, please. Just for a moment.”
This time, without her incredible intellect distracted by the thing that interested it most, he found getting into her consciousness and staying there much easier.
Images rose from out of the depths of her memories, sunken boats floating to the surface of her own private sea. He saw a lot of a human man and guessed it was her fiancé—no surprise, he had an instant dislike of the guy. He also saw a lot of the inside of a laboratory not unlike the one they had infiltrated at the site. He further saw a simple house, with simple furnishings, and a bed that was messy only on one side.
He also caught the recollections of an FBI agent showing up on the doorstep of that simple house … and how she had made the man a coffee and sat down with him to answer questions about her dead fiancé.
Sarah had been unnerved by the whole thing.
Murhder slipped a patch over those memories associated with the FBI agent, effectively disappearing any mental trace of that visitor and his line of inquiry. Gone. As if she’d never met the man.
As he withdrew from her consciousness, she winced and rubbed her temples. “Does anyone have a Motrin? I’ve got a heck of a headache.”
“I’ll get you some,” Xhex said as she turned and went back up the stairs.
Murhder took a deep breath. “Sarah, exactly how open-minded are you?”
It wasn’t exactly a question.
More like a prayer of his.
As Doc Jane went off somewhere with her phone up to her ear and her voice at whisper level, and Murhder and the human researcher went back to the kitchen, John turned to the sofa and looked at the pretrans who was sitting under a quilt and watching everything with wide, exhausted eyes.
John lifted his palm at the kid.
“Hi,” the boy said back. “You don’t talk?”
John shook his head and went over to a rocking chair. When he sat down, the thing creaked like it might lose its structural integrity under his weight, but somehow the antique managed to hold him.
“What happened to your voice?” the young asked. “Were you hurt?”
John shook his head and then shrugged.
“You were born like that and you don’t know why.” When John nodded, the kid seemed sad. “I’m sorry.”
John shrugged again and put up his palms, all what-can-you-do. Then he pointed into the other room, to Doc Jane, and gave the boy a thumbs-up.
“You trust her?” John put his hand over his heart, closed his eyes, and nodded. “You trust her with your life.”
John gave the a-okay sign. Then pointed to the kid and made the a-okay sign.
“You think I’m going to be all right?”
John nodded, made the cross in front of his chest, and then pointed his finger like a gun, put it to his temple and pulled the trigger.
The young smiled. “Cross your heart, hope to die.”
John jammed a thumb toward his eyeball.
“Stick a finger in your eye.”
John made the a-okay sign again.
The boy got serious. “I knew my mahmen was dead. Last night, I was asleep in the cage, and all of a sudden, I felt someone shake me awake. As I sat up … I felt like she was sitting next to me, the way it used to be, the two of us together. It made me miss her so much. And then the feeling went away. It was like she visited me on her way unto the Fade.”
John nodded and put his hand over his heart, rubbing.
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” When John nodded again, the young took a deep breath. “I told the doctor what the last month has been like. The humans at the lab, they were getting excited because my readings are all messed up. My mahmen, she told me if I lived this long that I had to watch for signs that my change was coming. She also told me that I had to get out of that lab before the transition hit. The humans weren’t going to know what to do to get me through it.”
John shook his head. Then he exposed his watch, tapped it, and pointed at the young.
“How old am I? I’m twenty. Or at least I think I am that old. Sometimes I’m not sure whether I count the years correctly. It’s kind of messed up in my head. My mahmen, she told me I’d go through the change at about twenty-five, but that stress could add or subtract from that.”
John let the kid talk it all out and decided that one good thing about being mute was that he was able to give people a lot of space to share what was going on for them. And the more the kid chatted to him, the more he returned to his own past, to when he’d been scrawny and living in that rat hole, calling the Suicide Prevention Hotline, praying for Mary’s voice on the other line.
This young was just as lost as he had been.
And like John, he’d been found in a nick of time.
Jesus, it made him sick to his stomach to think of what would have happened to the pretrans if he hadn’t been rescued tonight—because the kid was right. Those humans couldn’t have gotten him to a female of the species—hell, they probably didn’t even know they had to. And if he’d hit the transition without the proper vein to take, he was going to die outright.
Unfortunately, sometimes the young died anyway. Even if they had help.
A powerful worry took up root in John’s chest as he stared across the safe house’s sitting room. For some reason, he didn’t want anything to happen to this young.
Funny, how what you had in common with a stranger could turn them into family so quickly.
“Were you scared when you went through the change?” the young asked.
John nodded. And then he pointed to himself and flashed the thumbs-up.
“But you made it. And you’re big and okay.”
As John nodded again, the kid took a deep breath. “Do you think they’ll let the human woman stay with me? And the big male?”
John nodded, even though he wasn’t sure what was going to happen. But come on, surely the Brotherhood would give the young a break? And he was very close to the transition. John could scent it.
“I just don’t …” Those eyes gleamed with tears. “I’ve been alone for a really long time and I’m scared.”