The Merzetti Effect (A Vampire Romance) (36 page)

“So…”

“Your destiny is no longer immediately linked to mine. You have nothing to fear.”

She swallowed. She wasn’t afraid for herself, damn him. “Okay, what about the vaccine? If anything happens to you‌—”

“The vaccine is all but complete. If you go to my lab, you’ll find I’ve written down the names and contact information for two researchers, one American and one Australian. They’re good men‌—‌non-vampires, of course‌—‌but more open-minded than most. They might be skeptical to begin with, but they’ll be too intrigued to refuse. If anything happens to me, you must contact them.”

“But I don’t want anything to happen to you!”

“And nothing will.” He pulled her close for a quick, hard kiss. “But I have to go. Besides Lucy and the pilot, there’s our man in the Comanche. If he’s not dead, he’ll be in desperate need of medical attention.”

“But‌—”

“Take care of Eli,” he said. “And use the radio. Tell them I’m coming out.”

Ainsley suppressed the anguished wail that rose in her throat as he disappeared out the door in the direction of the roof exit. She would not call out. She would not. She and Delano were no longer blood-bonded. What would have seemed perfectly acceptable five minutes ago now seemed like the epitome of histrionics.

“Well, that was quite a show.”

Heart hammering, Ainsley spun toward her forgotten audience. “I can’t believe he’s going out there!”

“He has to. By the way, you might want to announce his arrival, just so he doesn’t spook his own team.”

Oh, God! That’d be all she needed. She depressed the button on the radio. “This is Ainsley Crawford here. Delano … I mean, Dr. Bowen is on his way to the roof. Repeat, Dr. Bowen is going out on the roof. Did you get that?”

“This is B Team. Copy that. He’s already made the roof.”

“A Team here. We copy. I have Dr. Bowen on screen.”

She put her lips to the radio again. “A Team, can we have a running commentary?”

“Whoa! I think it’s all over.”

All over? What the hell did that mean? “A Team, report! What happened?”

“The helo door just opened and the hostage climbed out, followed by the pilot. B Team’s all over them. Yes! They’re inside.”

“Janecek?”

“Nowhere to be seen.”

“And Dr. Bowen?”

“I lost him.”

“You lost him.”

“No, there he is! Just had to tweak my camera angle. He’s just entered the other helicopter, the one our guy Bartlett was hiding in.”

Ainsley lifted the radio again, squeezing the transmitter button so hard her fingers hurt. “We need to send B Team back out there to help him!”

“They’re already back.”

“Ainsley?”

Delano’s voice on the radio. Thank God! “Are you all right, Del?”

“I’m fine, but I’ve got another incoming. Bartlett has several gunshot wounds, and he’s lost a lot of blood, but he’s alive. We have to stabilize him for transfer.”

“Thank God,” said Eli. “Tough bastard.”

She blinked. “Transfer where? Won’t it raise some hard-to-answer questions if we waltz in with a multiple gunshot victim?”

“I have my contacts. Just be ready to push IV fluids. I’ll be right down to help you.”

Ainsley glanced at Eli.

“Go,” he ordered. “I’m fine.”

She raced through the penthouse, skidding to a stop as the door to the stairwell opened. One of the guards, Hayes, was the first through, followed by a haggard-looking Lucy.

“Oh, Luce!”

Lucy went into her arms for a fierce hug. “Omigod, what a nightmare, Ainsley.”

Ainsley pulled away. “I know, and it’s all my fault.”

“Where’s Devon?”

“Delano sort of hypnotized her and sent her off to sleep. He says she won’t remember anything of this when she wakes up.”

Lucy burst into tears. “Thank God.”

“I’ll take you to her right now. Then I have to attend to a wounded man.”

“Just point me in the right direction. You’re needed here.”

Ainsley obliged. “Second suite of rooms down that hall.” She gave her friend another quick, tearful hug. “I’ll come see you after this crisis has passed.”

Ainsley was vaguely aware of Janecek’s pilot entering the penthouse, but he was quickly shuttled down the hall to share quarters with his shackled co-pilot while he awaited Delano’s pleasure.

The next twelve minutes were eaten up stabilizing the critical patient, who was carried down from the roof by Delano and one of the security guards. Again, she and Delano worked together easily, as though they’d been doing this forever. When they’d done all they could do, Ainsley leaned back on her heels. “Now what?”

“Now we airlift him to a private clinic about twenty minutes away, where he’ll get world-class treatment with no questions asked. I’ve already called ahead and they’ll have a trauma team waiting.”

“Isn’t that highly illegal? Not to mention a blatant contravention of the Canada Health Act?”

“You left out exorbitantly expensive.”

“Hey, wait a minute. Your helicopter is Swiss cheese. How are you going to airlift him?”

“Janecek’s pilot is going to give our boys a ride, as a gesture of atonement for his bad judgment in choice of employers. Isn’t that right, Mr. Hitchman?”

Ainsley glanced up to see Janecek’s pilot once more standing in the room, with one of Delano’s men in close proximity.

“That’s right, sir. Whatever you need.”

Ainsley returned her gaze to Delano. “But what about Janecek?”

“I’m going to remove him from the craft right now, and these men are going to load Mr. Bartlett. I’ll accompany them, of course, in case he crashes en route.” He glanced at Ainsley. “Can you cope here by yourself, taking care of Eli and the others?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Delano tucked an extra blanket around the unconscious Bartlett, stepped back and nodded for two men to take the gurney.

Ainsley opened the door for the stretcher-bearers, and Delano went ahead to get the rooftop door. Not waiting for an invitation, she followed the procession up to the roof.

Delano turned to motion to the three men to hang back while he approached the helo himself, and caught a glimpse of Ainsley’s fair head. Dammit, she’d followed them up. Her concern for his safety warmed his heart, even as he wished she’d stayed below. He glanced at the helicopter, seeing no one on their feet. It should be safe enough, he supposed, as long as she stayed back with everyone else.

He approached the helicopter soundlessly. Well, soundless except for the rumbling of his stomach. And damned if he wasn’t downright dizzy from hunger. Good, old-fashioned alimentary hunger. Not that he’d given the fierce pangs much attention. His ribs ached too much for him to be aware of much else in the pain department. The rib fracture certainly hadn’t been helped by his exertions in getting Bartlett out of the Comanche, and then bending over him to tend his wounds.

The door to Janecek’s helo hung ajar, just as the pilot had left it after his hasty exit with Mrs. Michaels. Nevertheless, Delano employed extreme caution as he approached it. A caution that proved unnecessary, he discovered, after risking a quick glimpse inside.

Janecek lay on his back, completely preoccupied with his struggle for the oxygen his body needed. Like Webber before him, Janecek’s chest, abdominal and neck muscles labored rhythmically for each breath in a way that put Delano in mind of a fish out of water, gills working uselessly.

He climbed aboard the helicopter. “Radak?”

The dying vampire looked up, struggling to focus. “Ah, come to … gloat as I … gasp my last?”

“I’ve come to evacuate you inside so you can die in comfort.”

A choked laugh. Radak lifted his head and looked past Delano, out the open door to the men holding the gurney. “Don’t believe this. You need … my aircraft.”

“That, too.”

“Will this … take much longer?”

Delano looked down at the incredibly handsome young man before him, and suddenly he saw Janecek as he’d found him that first day. He’d killed every one of the monks who’d taken him in, leaving the monastery littered with their bodies in varying stages of decay, but when he’d looked up at Delano, he’d done so with the same innocence of any child. A hungry, lonely child.

He looked up at Delano now with much the same confusion, as though Delano could make sense of his situation for him.

Oh, Radak, you were just not strong enough.

He cleared his throat. “I can’t say for sure how long it will be. Soon.”

Radak’s hand clutched at Delano’s pant leg. “You must help me.”

“I cannot.” Delano firmed his jaw. “Even if I wanted to, you are past the help of even the most sophisticated hospital, let alone what I could do for you here.”

“Know that.” Radak coughed. “Just want … to make it … fast.”

Delano felt a chill move over his skin, though the night was warm and still. “You want me to finish you?”

“If you ever … loved me, you’ll do this.”

Delano stepped back, out of his reach. “You ask too much!”

Radak smiled. “Always did. At least … leave me … a gun.”

“Dammit, I can’t do that.”

“Begging you … don’t leave me … like this.”

Son of a bitch.

Blinking rapidly, Delano leapt out of the helicopter and strode to where the other waited. “The medical bag.” He gestured to the bag that rested on the gurney at Bartlett’s feet. “Quickly.”

One of the men handed it to him.

“You,” he said to Janecek’s pilot, “Get on there and get this bird warmed up.”

The pilot circled the craft, opened the other door and climbed in. Delano boarded the helo again and knelt by Janecek, plunking the bag down.

“You’ll help me?”

Wordlessly, Delano tugged the bag open, found what he wanted‌—‌a multiple-dose vial of hydromorphone and a syringe‌—‌and put the bag aside. The chopper’s engines turned over and caught, and their whine began to build.

Grimly, he drew up a massively lethal dose of the potent opioid, and looked down at the unsaveable man‌—‌the unsaveable
child
he’d tried so hard to save.

Janecek smiled. “Don’t worry. If somebody has to … send me to hell … glad it’s you.”

“Goodbye, Radak,” he said, but his words were all but drowned out as the chopper’s rotors began beating the air. Within seconds of the intravenous injection, Janecek went into full respiratory arrest. After a moment, Delano placed two fingers on Janecek’s carotid artery. No pulse. It was done.

Gently, he closed the dead man’s sightless eyes. “May God have mercy on your soul, Radak.”

He stood abruptly, turned and climbed out of the chopper, crouching low to avoid the whirling rotors, not to mention sparing his abused ribs. A crouching Ainsley darted in, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from the helicopter.

“What happened?” she shouted in his ear.

“He’s gone.”

“Thank God.” Her hands roamed his arms, as though to assure herself of his soundness. “How about you? Are you okay?”

He knew she was alluding to his handiwork with the hypodermic. “Fine.”

She didn’t look persuaded, but she let it drop, given the urgency of their patient’s situation. She glanced at the helicopter. “We need to get Bartlett loaded. What are we going do with the body?”

“Strap him into a seat for the ride.”

“What?”

“He’s not our problem. After the pilot has done this med-evac stint for us, I’ll release him. The cadaver on board is his boss and his problem.” Without waiting for her reaction, Delano called Hayes over and instructed him. As they went about moving Janecek and loading Bartlett, he turned back to Ainsley. “You sure you’ll be all right?”

“Perfectly sure. Devon should sleep for hours yet, and Lucy can watch over her. As for Eli‌—”

“Eli needs his arterial blood gases run and a half dozen other tests. As soon as Bartlett is safely delivered into the hands of the trauma team, I’ll leave Hayes there and catch a lift back. If you can have the blood drawn and ready, I’ll run the tests as soon as I get back.” He glanced at the helo to see that everyone was now loaded. “I’ve got to go. They’re waiting on me.”

“I know.” Ainsley reached up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his for a quick, hard kiss, taking care not to touch his injured ribs. Then she turned and dashed to the door, disappearing inside without a backward glance.

B
Y THE TIME
Delano made it back to the penthouse roof, dawn was less than twenty minutes off. Odd not to feel any urgency to seek shelter in the face of the coming day. Odder still not to feel his limbs filling with lethargy as the immutable demand of the day-sleep asserted itself. He was free to stand here and watch the sun rise over Montreal’s urban skyline, risking nothing more than the pain that witnessing such beauty again would surely cause him.

Except while he was free of his vampiric nature, he wasn’t free of duty. There was far too much to be done to linger here to watch a sunrise.

Lifting the radio, he called downstairs for the other pilot‌—‌the one whose throat he’d injured‌—‌to be brought to the roof for transport to the clinic he’d just left.

Ten minutes later, after his wounded partner had been loaded on board, Hitchman said, “Thanks for doing this, man. We both know my former boss would not have been so gracious if Robertson there was your man.”