Blood Pact

Henry Fitzroy and back to the matter at hand. "What about your mother's boss?”

    "Dr. Burke? I don't think so. My mother said she was the most gifted administrator she'd ever worked for, and that doesn't leave a lot of time to put into raising the dead.”

    "So? If she signed the death certificate she must be a medical doctor, whatever else she is. She knew your mother was going to die and, as department head, she's sure as shit be in a position to acquire equipment for a secret lab." He shoved both hands up through his hair and tried to force his tired brain to function for just a while longer. "She's a place to start.”

    "I have an appointment to see her in the morning. I'll see what I can find out." Her tone made it clear she didn't expect to discover much.

    “ We'll see what we can find out.”

    "No, Mike." She shook her head, and wished she hadn't as the room spun. "I want you to tie up a few loose ends with Mr. Chen.”

    "Vicki, Tom Chen is a dead end.”

    She swiveled around to face him, bracing herself against the back of the couch. "He still may be the only end we've got. I don't need you with me, Mike.”

    "You shouldn't be doing this alone.”

    "I'm not. Unless you want to go home.”

    He looked across the room at Henry. Who was no help. "Of course I'm not going home," he snarled. Surrender might be his only option, but nothing said he had to do it graciously. "So what do we do now?”

    To his surprise, it was Henry who answered. "We sleep. I have no choice. It's very nearly dawn. I can feel the sun. You, Detective, have been up all night. And, Vicki, I can smell the drugs in your system, you need to sleep to clear the clouding from your mind.”

    "No, I . . .”

    Henry cut her off with the lifting of an imperious brow. "A few hours will make no difference to your mother and a great deal to you." Crossing the room, he extended a hand. ”I can make you forget for a time, if you like.”

    "I don't want to forget, thank you." But she took his hand and pulled herself to her feet, a piece of broken china shattering further under the sole of her shoe. His fingers were as cool as Celluci's had been warm. An anchor of a different sort. "And, in spite of what both of you think, I'm fully aware that self-abuse will contribute nothing at all toward finding the shit eaters who did this. I will sleep.
    I will eat. And then . . ." Anger and exhaustion, equally applied, destroyed the rest of the thought before she had it barely formed. She gripped Henry's arm and stared intently into his face. "I won't be able to wait for you. Sunset's just too damned far away.”

    He touched her cheek with his free hand and repeated, "Too damned far away. I couldn't have said it better, myself. But be careful while I'm not with you." His gaze lifted over her shoulder to meet Celluci's. " Both of you be careful.”

    Donald secured the slide, stared down at the spread of purple stain for a moment, sighed, and turned. "Cathy, I don't like what we're getting into here.”

    "Trouble with number eight?" Catherine glanced up from her dissection, brow furrowed, hands buried under one of number eight's decomposing organs.

    "Number eight's past the point where it can give us any trouble," Donald snorted. "I'm more concerned with the dynamic duo over there.”

    Puzzled, Catherine peered over her mask at the two working isolation boxes. "I'm sure all the damage they took last night was superficial. You stitched number nine's lacerations closed. We both checked for mechanical overload. I adjusted their nutrient levels to compensate for the strain on the bacterial restructuring . . .”

    "That's not what I meant." He ripped the paper off a candy, balled it up, and threw it in the general direction of a waste basket.
    "Don't you think those two have gone just a tad outside the parameters of the experiment?”

    "Of course not." Catherine set a kidney down on a sterilized tray. "We're going to need tissue samples from the others for comparison.”

    "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll break out the biopsy needle in a minute, but first we're going to have a chat about last night's little walkabout. It had nothing to do with Organ Regeneration through Tailored Bacteria or even Reanimation of the Human Body by Tailored Bacteria and Servomotors.”

    "What are you talking about? If last night wasn't animation I don't know what is; you want them any more animated, you'll have to call in Disney.”

    "Was that a joke?" Donald demanded. "Because