Firestorm Forever: A Dragonfire Novel (47 page)

“How is she?” Sloane asked.

Drake bowed his head. “They say it is the latent phase, and its duration cannot be anticipated.” At Sloane’s gesture, the two
Pyr
stepped into his home. Theo glanced around with curiosity, while Drake kept his attention upon Sloane. “They appear to believe it significant that I did not become infected. The attending doctor did not either, but he wore gloves, but the attending nurse did.” He arched a brow when Sloane looked up. “And I kissed Veronica, as surely they did not.”

“Did you, um, exchange body fluids?” Sloane asked, wishing he didn’t have to.

Drake’s eyes glittered. “It was a passionate kiss, as befits a reunion.” He frowned. “They wish to run more tests upon me, in case the secret lurks in my physiology.”

Sloane winced. “Bad idea. I don’t even like that you had a blood test. They could look deeply and notice significant differences.”

Drake shrugged. “I knew they would only test for infection.”

Theo grinned, and Sloane guessed that Drake had done a bit of beguiling. “Nothing like the power of suggestion.”

The older
Pyr
bristled a bit, and Sloane recalled that he was not fond of beguiling. To Drake it seemed deceptive. “It had to be done, so that I could be both compliant with their expectations and leave that place,” Drake said with patience.

“You could have just shifted shape and gotten out of there with brute force,” Sloane said, wondering that his fellow
Pyr
hadn’t done as much.

“This town is Veronica’s home, and she is my mate.” Drake straightened and held Sloane’s gaze. “Great Wyvern willing, it will be my home as well.”

Sloane lifted the vial and turned it in the light, thinking. “You don’t have it at all? Not even in latent phase?”

Drake shook his head. “This is their conclusion. Is it of import?”

Sloane set down the vial with care. “I knew that Jorge hadn’t been infected. I assumed that was because of the Elixir in his veins.”

“Because the Elixir allows for near-immortality,” Theo guessed.

“And ensures prompt healing,” Sloane added. “I was thinking that the Elixir’s ability to repair cells at high speed was undoing the damage of the virus, pretty much in real time. That was my theory as to why Jorge wasn’t becoming ill.”

“Although it wouldn’t have broken any hearts if he had,” Theo concluded.

“But why do I not have the infection?” Drake asked.

Theo cleared his throat. “Maybe there’s something special about Drake’s blood.”

Sloane nodded with excitement. “Drake’s the last of the Dragon Tooth Warriors!” He grinned as he realized the key. “You’ve come from the same era as the virus! Of
course
, you have antibodies to it!” He gripped Drake’s shoulders, filled with new optimism. “You’re the only surviving creature who does.”

“And so my firestorm was with Veronica because I literally can heal her?”

“Great Wyvern, I hope so,” Sloane said with fervor. “It’s so elegant in theory.” He picked up the vial again. “We just have to figure out what it is in your blood that makes the difference, isolate it, replicate it, test it and create a vaccine.”

“Can you do all this in time to heal Veronica?” Drake demanded.

“I don’t know. But I’m sure as hell going to try.” Sloane eyed Drake. “How do you feel about giving me a great big blood sample?”

Drake pushed up his sleeve. “Take as much from me as you need. Take it all. Show no regard for me. My mate’s fate hangs in the balance, after all.”

“As well as that of your son,” Theo said, which earned him a considering glance from the older warrior.

Sloane was too busy planning the sequence of tests he’d do to pay much attention.

* * *

In a way, it was reassuring to be back in the world of humans and in a hospital as well. A part of Ronnie felt that she could finally relax and concentrate on getting well. She’d seen Timmy and he’d been relieved to see her, even though the glass. He looked well. She was glad that Drake had not only stayed in town but had endeavored to build a bond with her son.

That was a good sign for Timmy’s future, whether she was part of it or not.

In another way, Ronnie was waiting for the other shoe to drop. She knew
Slayers
could materialize out of thin air, and that left her jumpy. She wasn’t happy to be stuck in an isolation ward, much less that no one was telling her anything about her test results.

That couldn’t be good.

She hoped the doctors were being cautious and Jorge had just lied to her, but with every day that passed, her hope faded. When they let Drake leave, though, and she heard the nurse who had treated her was infected, Ronnie knew. How could she feel so good when she had a fatal illness?

More importantly, how long would she feel good?

Long enough for her son to be born?

Was he infected, too? The prospect of Jorge’s plan succeeding at all was just wrong.

Ronnie had taken to pacing the room and continuing the exercises she’d begun while in captivity. It wasn’t like her to sit still, and she wanted to be as strong as possible for the birth of the baby.

She wanted desperately to talk to Drake. His kiss and his vow had been great, but she had too many questions. Now that she knew for sure she was pregnant, she wanted to hear how he envisioned their future together, or the future of her sons without her.

But Drake was gone.

She had to trust him.

Ronnie was doing Kegel exercises when the airlock hissed. She glanced up as someone in a HazMat suit entered the room, and concluded it was time for more blood work. The person turned, revealing her face to Ronnie, and waved a friendly greeting.

Ronnie didn’t know her.

“Keeping active, I see. That’s good. I’m Dr. Wilcox,” she said, offering her gloved hand. “I’m a virus hunter, specializing in the Seattle virus. I’m hoping we can work together to find a cure.”

Ronnie shook her hand. This doctor’s arrival answered so many questions. She swallowed and frowned, but when she tried to speak, her words came out in a hoarse croak.

Dr. Wilcox gave her the tablet and a stylus.

Ronnie fitted the stylus into the brace on her right hand, then tapped out her question with care. She was relieved that the doctor didn’t seem to be in a hurry.

In time for me and my son?
She knew her heart was in her eyes when she turned the screen to face the doctor.

“I hope so,” Dr. Wilcox said with a candor that Ronnie found reassuring. “That would be my goal, although you have to understand that this isn’t a process in which promises can be made.”

Ronnie liked that the other woman didn’t tell her comforting lies.
What can I do to help?

Dr. Wilcox was reading over her shoulder, answering the question before Ronnie had finished pecking out the letters. “You need to stay as healthy as possible. Eat well, although I’m sure they’re taking care of that here. Exercising in this space is a great idea. We’ve run all the tests we have on your blood…”

And I have it?
Ronnie wanted to ensure that their relationship was totally open.

The doctor met her gaze. “You are infected, Mrs. Maitland, but the virus is in its latent phase. That means you have no symptoms, but you are infectious. There is no firm timeline on this phase. It can be hours. It can be months. It seems to depend very much on the health of the infected individual, and truth be told, the virus is mutating constantly. It seems to be trending toward a longer latent phase than when it first appeared.”

Like HIV.
Ronnie’s chest tightened at this. If the virus waited for a weakness, she had to believe that pregnancy would count.

Given how she’d been eating in Jorge’s prison, her usual good health might already be compromised.

Dr. Wilcox nodded slowly, her gaze assessing. “Possibly. We don’t have enough observations of its development to be sure. We’re usually alerted
after
a person exhibits symptoms. By then, the latent phase is over and whatever was going to trigger the active propagation of the virus has done so. That’s why we know so little about the triggers or about the latent phase itself. In fact, we initially didn’t know there could be a latent phase. Those earliest infections blossomed very quickly.”

Then it’s too late.

Dr. Wilcox averted her gaze for a moment. When she looked back, she changed the subject slightly. “You seem to know a lot about infectious disease,” she said with care. “Do you have a biology background?

Ronnie shook her head.
Research librarian,
Ronnie tapped out.
Custom research for authors. Character with HIV and AIDS.

The doctor leaned over her shoulder to read the words as Ronnie wrote them. “I see,” she said. “So you do know a fair bit about what we’re dealing with. Any characters with Ebola or Marberg?”

Ronnie nodded.
Ebola.

The doctor held her gaze unswervingly.

Symptoms?
Ronnie wrote.
Fever?

“That’s often the first or at least the most obvious symptom. We hear subsequently about aches and pains, lethargy, lack of appetite or nausea…”

Pregnancy symptoms.
Ronnie tapped and the doctor smiled.

“Yes, among other conditions, like age. Detection can be elusive.” She paused, then spared an assessing glance around the room.

Mortality rate?

The doctor wouldn’t look at the screen, which was a bad sign. She fussed with the readings on the monitors and seemed not to notice Ronnie’s gesture. Ronnie knew better. She shoved the tablet in front of the doctor’s helmet and shook her arm.

Dr. Wilcox read the question then heaved a sigh. “How much do you want to help, Mrs. Maitland? I could get you a laptop, and there’s a WIFI node here at the hospital. You could put your research skills to work, maybe find something we’ve missed.” She held Ronnie’s gaze. Her words were husky when she continued. “Maybe Skype and email with your son, Timothy.”

While you can. Ronnie heard the unspoken words. It
was
fatal, then.

100% mortality
, she tapped out.

The doctor nodded, though she didn’t look happy about it. “That’s been the case to date. Once symptoms develop, it’s a predictable trajectory.
But
bear in mind that we know very little about this virus. It’s entirely possible that there are people who will live their entire lives as asymptomatic carriers without getting the actual disease.”

Ronnie saw that Dr. Wilcox had her doubts about that.
Are carriers infectious?

Dr. Wilcox raised her hands. “I’ve thought they must be, but we had no way of knowing until now.”

Because the nurse had caught it after helping Ronnie.

“You’re already helping, Mrs. Maitland.”

Ronnie’s eyes widened in her dismay.
Drake?

“The father of your child?” At the question, Ronnie nodded emphatically. “That’s the intriguing thing. Even though his exposure was more intense, by all accounts, than that of the attending doctor and nurse, he’s the only one who was unprotected and didn’t contract the virus from you.”

Ronnie blushed in recollection of that very public kiss.

Dr. Wilcox checked a list she carried. “The attending doctor wore latex gloves, which meant that he didn’t come in contact with any body fluids. It makes sense that he didn’t become infected.”

Ambulance and pedestrian.
Ronnie tapped out.

“Good question. The emergency workers who found you first were also wearing gloves as a matter of procedure. The woman who spotted you first had a bit of your blood on her cuff, by all reports, but didn’t touch it, fortunately. It dried, we notified her, and the coat was destroyed.”

Dr. Wilcox mused. “But your Mr. Drake gave you that kiss and did not become infected. It’s a first. Every answer brings another question.” She eyed Ronnie. “We’d like to talk to him about that, actually, but he seems to have disappeared. Any idea where we might find him?”

Ronnie shook her head.

Drake hadn’t disappeared. He’d gone to solve something. Ronnie knew that in her heart and she knew she could rely upon him to return to her.

He’d certainly do whatever he could to try to save her.

And he would take care of Timmy.

Timmy might know where Drake was, but Ronnie wasn’t going to hint as much to these people. It would upset Timmy if he had to choose between defending Drake, who was pretty much his hero, and honestly answering the questions of the authorities.

“The police want to talk to you about the destruction of your house and the abduction,” Dr. Wilcox said. “But I told them you have to rest for a few more days after your ordeal.”

Ronnie nodded and smiled her gratitude.

“They can wait until your throat heals.” The doctor seemed to be waiting for something, so Ronnie tapped out one last sentence.

I’d like that laptop, please.

* * *

Sam went through the protocol of leaving an infected zone by rote, enduring the chemical showers and shedding the HazMat suit once she was all clear. There was nothing worse, in her estimation, than telling a person that he or she was going to die. She’d always tried to get out that job, actually, either going for cheerful optimism or avoiding direct conversation with the infected individuals. She routinely let more senior doctors deliver the bad news, taking refuge in her lab.