The Tenth Legion (Book 6, Progeny of Evolution) (23 page)

Unlike
Cynthia, Karla knew about the trouble between Lorna and Ed. About
the time Karla jabbed Cynthia’s ribs to signal she’d said something
wrong, Lorna answered, “No, thanks. I have some follow-up to do on
the case. I’ll be web surfing at least four hours.” Lorna walked
away.

* * * *

The next
morning, while Lorna chipped away at the daily work assignment, a
large shadow fell across her. Ed towered above.

“I wanted to
see you before leaving,” he said, almost gravely.

“You sound
like you’re never coming back.” Lorna glanced up from the computer
monitor.

His hand
reached down, covering hers like a tan blanket. “The minute this is
over, we’re going to iron out whatever has come between us.”

Before she had
a chance to answer, he left, treading with heavy footfall down the
hall to the elevator.

Iron out
what’s come between us? Dump the bitch and apologize—that might be
a start.

Then she
thought about his tone of voice. The contrite, sincere Shadow Ed
had spoken. For the first time, she wondered if she might’ve missed
something about this business with Valeria, and she made up her
mind to check it out after finishing the computer work.

An hour after
Ed’s departure, Ethan broke in on her monitor. “Sorry to
interrupt,” he said. “You must see this.”

“See
what?’

“I’m at the
infirmary. Come quickly.” For the first time since they met, his
voice sounded tense.

Arriving to a
scene of quickened activity, staff with their faces bundled in
gauze masks rushed wheel beds, accompanied by all sorts of
complicated equipment, toward a sealed-off ward. Someone had taped
plastic sheeting across the entrance, along with the inside of the
windows. Two rows of twenty or so beds were already in the room,
arranged in precise lines like crack troops awaiting battle orders.
The first victims languished in four of them.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“
T
he facility is
locked down,” Ethan said to his father, whose face filled the
monitor in the Board meeting room. The eldest son’s characteristic
calm returned, now tinged with measured gravity.

“Good,” the
image of Ed answered. “It’s imperative no one get out.”

The meter-high
face on the monitor reminded Lorna of the first time she’d seen
him, back in his grandparents’ old room.

Was that only
two months ago?

“What’s wrong
with quarantining everyone who’s stricken while those who’re
uninfected go free?” Lorna asked. “The problem here would be
simplified.”

Ed frowned.
“We’ve learned humans and hybrids carry the disease. If one of
either type gets out infected, he or she will continue to inoculate
a percentage of carriers they contact in addition to any lycan or
vampire. Humans, since they’re more numerous, are the primary
worry. Within a week, the disease could be out of control.”

“Edward, how
bad could it become?” Karla asked.

The head of
internal security, a human, answered. “Ma’am, our study shows if
one human carrier escaped, he could, without making any special
effort, come in contact with ten-percent of the population in a ten
mile radius. Assuming a conservative ten-percent inoculation rate
while the inoculated continues with normal routines... Well, here.
Let me show you on the screen.”

A map of North
and South America, white against the blue ocean, flashed on a
screen. A pinprick red dot located in Orlando, Florida, winked at a
level beyond human/hybrid range. The security director zoomed in,
settling on an area encompassing Central Florida. The dot emerged,
clear to everyone.

“This is where
we stand today, assuming no more outbreaks occur elsewhere,” he
expounded with the detachment of a lecturing professor, rather than
someone delivering news of a potential extinction level event. Then
Lorna remembered he was human, with no threat to him or any loved
ones. “The red vector represents one escapee.” He moved a red dot
outside of the containment. “After a week, the picture is this.”
Dots covered about thirty-percent of the map area. “After another
week, the situation grows into this.” The Central Florida map
colored to a uniform red, and after zooming the map out, the state
showed a vector in every part.

As the litany
of infection unfolded, the relentless red covered the region,
continent, and the world. The growing red color from the screen
reflected in the horrified eyes of everyone present. In contrast,
Clarisse, Bobby’s girlfriend, sat in a chair against the wall,
wearing an idle pout while admiring her nails. “As you can see,”
the security director concluded in an unwavering matter-of-fact
tone, “Within six months, the world would be saturated with human
carriers capable of passing the disease vector, infecting any of
your community they contact. Without a cure, every lycan and
vampire on the planet will be dead.”

“How certain
is this projection?” Ed asked.

The security
director averted his eyes. “The Earth’s atmosphere turning to
cyanide gas couldn’t be more.”

“Oh, sweet
God.” Karla exploded in hysteria and began crying.

Ed, along with
the other family members, watched her for a moment. Then Ed spoke.
His clear voice filled the room as usual, but underneath, it
conveyed care and a desire to put a beloved sibling at ease.
“Karla, my dear sister, if there’s an answer, we’ll find it. Thomas
and I promise.”

“That’s
right,” Thomas’s voice affirmed from off screen. “But foremost, we
have to keep our heads.”

With red,
irritated eyes, Karla looked at the screen. The projection screen
now displaying a scarlet world map reflected on the anguish in her
eyes.

“If what the
security director says is true, does it mean no one who’s here can
ever leave?” Bobby asked Ed.

“Until we find
a cure or get the rest of us to Mars, that is correct, son.”

“You’re asking
a lot of everyone here,” Bobby said.

Ed set his
jaw. “There’s no discussion. I’ll make the inconvenience worth
their while.” His expression softened. “We’re fortunate in some
respects. Key members of the board were about equally divided
between where you are and here at Rocket City, giving us leadership
in both places. We have good communications. Also, the laboratories
are out of harm’s way.”

“Well,”
interjected Ethan. “I think we’ve covered about all, for now. We
need to get to work.”

“Dismiss the
others, Ethan. I want to speak with you and Lorna.”

At first,
Bobby seemed a little miffed by being excluded, but Clarisse’s
sultry proffer of compensations—which she previewed in front of
everyone by sucking on an earlobe—soon made him forget the slight.
Holding his hand, she led him away, broadcasting arousal scents
with each step. Ethan glanced at Lorna, rolling his eyes
knowingly.

When the two
of them were alone with Ed’s monitor image in the room, Ed spoke
first. “I won’t lie to you. This is the worst crisis ever faced by
The Others. The two of you are the strongest leaders there. Ethan,
I need your calm logic. Lorna’s intuitive grasp of situations
compliments you to a tee. Together, your skills represent our best
chance at finding a way out of this dilemma.” He paused. “There’s
something else. Unless we find a cure, you’re both under a death
sentence. You need to know…”

“Ed,” Lorna
interrupted. “Put yourself at ease. There’s no other choice.”

“I know, but
condemning the two of you, who are most precious, doesn’t become
any easier.” A congestion of emotion seemed to overwhelm him.
“Remember, I love you both,” he managed to squeeze out before
terminating the conversation.

* * * *

A day later,
the first death occurred—a pre-emergent female vampire. She lay
under a plastic tent with her parents gathered around, able to
touch and comfort her through gloves that reached inside. By the
time of the initial death, six more cases had broken out. The
medical staff readied the remaining beds.

Lorna spent
her time reading everything available on the Muslim Bomb, X-10, and
the translated prophesies Toby had brought from Mars. Somewhere in
all the material arrayed on desk and computer hid an answer. As the
trained investigator, she vowed not to rest until finding a
solution.

“Do you ever
take a break?” Bobby’s soft, sometimes mesmerizing voice touched
her ears. Striking a casual, insouciant pose, he leaned on the
doorframe of the office door.

Lorna regarded
him. “Where’s your friend?”

“Sleeping,” he
answered. Lorna smelled lingering aromas of cocaine and sex
radiating from him. Within seconds, stronger odors of his arousal
for her began to supplant them.

Three weeks
had passed since last being with Ed. Bobby was a likeable,
attractive male. Despite herself, his presence aroused her. Wearing
a short skirt without hose, the cotton panel of her panties alone
contained the essences of her discomfort. Thank goodness, being a
hybrid, he couldn’t perceive that.

“Well,” she
said, “I guess it’s just the two of us.”

Directing
attention to the monitor, he asked, “What are you working on?”

“As your dad
said, there are only two ways out of here. Feet–first, or after we
find a cure. I’m more attracted to the second option. I was
reviewing some information we have on the Muslim Bomb.”

“Really? Did
you find anything?” he asked with an interest Lorna didn’t expect
from someone who seemed to be such a gadfly.

“Nothing yet,
except to confirm hybrids are immune just like humans, and both are
carriers.”

Bobby reacted
curiously. Rather than showing excitement at the news that put his
kind out of danger, he reacted neutrally. Lorna wondered if he
already knew. “Well,” he said expansively, changing the subject.
“How about you take a break and we catch some lunch?”

The
mischievous half-smile tempted her. Ethan and Toby had a refreshing
boyish side too, but theirs was the well behaved, good student who
never gave parents a minute of trouble. Bobby’s brand promised
adventure and fun with a hint of mischief. “No,” she responded. “I
have too much work here.”

“Tell you
what. I’ll bring us something from the cafeteria. We can have a
working lunch.”

Baring bright
teeth in a smooth-cheeked round face, she smiled. “That would be
nice.”

Returning in
fifteen minutes, he carried two plates—for her, a dish of skewered
meat. “Put them on the side table,” she said without looking up
from the keyboard. Her fingers banged away at a furious pace.

“What’s up?”
he asked, peering over her shoulder.

“Just
answering some mail from my office at OPD. Apparently, the Regional
Government took over the investigation of X-10.”

Bobby picked a
piece of meat off the skewer on Lorna’s plate, holding it within
reach of her mouth in dark, slim fingers. “Here. You have to
eat.”

She enveloped
the tidbit in the curl of a red, protruding lower lip. Assiduously,
he swiped away a small dribble at the corner of her mouth with the
soft, dry touch of a fingertip.

After he fed
her three or four pieces this way, she said, “You need to eat,
too.”

His butt cheek
perched on the edge of the work table, the material of his trousers
drew up against his legs and crotch, capturing her surreptitious,
admiring gaze. Her raised eyes met his direct stare. Scent told
everything. Putting two fingers under her chin, he tilted her face
upward, pressing a pair of warm, wet lips on hers. A tongue darted
about inside his mouth, itching to invade hers.

Somewhere
inside, Lorna knew she should’ve put a stop to Bobby’s advances,
but the troubles with Ed, in addition to living with the
possibility any one of them might be dead in another twenty-four
hours, made what happened next seem like a good idea.

They stood
face-to-face, locked in a hard embrace. Somehow, Bobby managed to
close the door with his foot. Their tongues invaded each other’s
mouths. With the sweep of an arm, he cleared a pile of rolled-up
plans from a table and with surprising strength lifted her onto the
now empty top.

He means to do
me right here.

On some primal
level, the idea appealed to her lycan psyche, and she began to get
wet. Placing hips between her thighs, he worked his lips from her
face down to her breasts, which ached a lot lately, threatening to
outgrow the containment of their usual cup size. At the touch of
hot breath, her nipples hardened, causing them to press almost
painfully against the restricting bra. His tongue burrowed into the
cleavage. A warm hand dragged cool fingertips up the outside of a
bare thigh.

“I want you
now,” he panted in her ear, reaching to undo his pants.

His voice
broke the spell. With an abrupt snatching movement, Lorna sat
erect. “Please stop.”

Pulling his
face away, he looked at her, confused. “Aren’t you and
Father…?”

Slipping off
the table, she pushed her skirt back in place. “I’m not sure what
we are right now, but he wants to talk. Until I hear what he has to
say, I don’t think it would be right to…well, you know.”

Bobby’s mood
darkened. “No, I don’t know!” he shouted. “My father used you, then
threw you away like trash. You may have only a couple of days to
live, and you want to save your pussy for him when he’s safe
outside?”

Lorna remained
calm. “No, nothing like that at all, Bobby. You’re an attractive
man, but I owe your father at least a chance to explain
himself.”

“Sure. Wait
for him. You both have two hundred years left, while the hybrid
here has fifty if he’s lucky.” Enraged, Bobby stormed toward the
door and turned the knob to leave. At the threshold he turned. His
face had transformed into an expression of triumph. “Oh, yeah, I
forgot. Now you’re the ones who’ll soon all be dead, while the
hybrid lives on. Tell me, how does that grab you?”