Blood Pact

to have her mother die and then to find that the body had been stolen." Mrs. Shaw sighed deeply and shook her head. "The poor girl was devastated.”

    Ms. Grenier made a silent but eloquent moue and bent back over her keyboard. As far as she was concerned, devastated might describe anything that got in that woman's way but it could hardly be applied to her emotional condition.

    Celluci made no comment as Vicki slid into the passenger seat and slammed the car door. Although she'd insisted before going up that she could handle any sympathy expressed by her mother's ex-coworker, something had obviously gotten through. As nothing he could say would help, he merely started the engine and pulled carefully away from the curb.

    "Make the next left," Vicki instructed tersely, yanking the seat belt into position then slamming it home. "We're heading for Elliot Street.”

    Three blocks later, she sighed deeply and said, "Odds are good that was a lot less trouble than breaking into the records office.”

    "Not to mention less illegal," Celluci pointed out dryly.

    He got his reward in the quick flicker of a smile, there and gone so fast he would've missed it had he not been watching.

    "Not to mention," Vicki agreed.

    "Catherine." Dr. Burke turned to face the wall, cupping the mouthpiece of the receiver with her free hand. It wouldn't do to be overheard. "I thought I'd give you a quick call between meetings to see how those tests are going.”

    "Well, his leukocytes are really amazing. I've never seen white blood cells like these.”

    "Have you looked at any tissue samples?”

    "Not yet. I thought you wanted the blood work done first. I've drawn another two vials as well as a sample of lymphatic fluid and, Doctor, his plasma cells are just as unique as the rest.”

    Dr. Burke ignored a gesturing colleague. They couldn't start the damned meeting without her anyway. "Unique in what way?”

    "Well, I'm not an immunologist, but given a little time I may be able to . . .”

    A sudden realization threw everything into sharp-edged relief. "Good lord, you might be able to develop a cure for AIDS." That would mean more than just a Nobel prize; an AIDS vaccine would practically net her a sainthood.

    Catherine hesitated before replying. "Well, yes, I suppose that might be one result. I was thinking more along the lines of my bacteria and . . .”

    "Think big, Catherine. Look, I've got to go now. Concentrate on the plasma cells, I think they're our best bet. Oh, for pity's sake, Rob, I'm coming." She hung up the phone and turned to the worried looking man hovering at her elbow. "What is your problem?”

    "Uh, the meeting . . .”

    "Oh, yes, the meeting. God forbid we shouldn't waste half our life in meetings!" She practically danced her way back across the hall. I've got a vampire and he's going to give me the world! An AIDS vaccine would be only the beginning.

    As he followed her, Dr. Rob Fortin, associate professor of microbiology, found himself wishing he had an excuse to cut and run.
    When Aline Burke looked that cheerful, someone's ass was grass.

    In the lab, Catherine stared at the phone for a moment, then somberly shook her head. "It's not like I don't have other things to do," she muttered.

    Turning slightly, she shot a reassuring smile at number nine and number ten. She'd been shuffling them in and out of the one remaining isolation box all day as their physical needs had dictated but hadn't really been able to spend any quality time with them.
    "I'm not ignoring you," she said earnestly. "I'll just finish up this analysis for Dr. Burke and then we can get back to important things.”

    Donald, she could guiltlessly ignore for another twelve hours or so, but it wasn't fair to the others that all her time be taken up by Mr. Henry Fitzroy, vampire.

    After all, he wasn't going anywhere.

    The key had hardly entered the lock when the door to the next apartment opened and Mr. Delgado came out into the hall.

    "Vicki, I thought it was you." He took a step toward her, the lines around his eyes deepening into worried grooves. "The police haven't found anything?”

    "The police aren't exactly looking," Vicki told him tersely.

    "Not looking? But . . .”

    "The murder at the university has tied up their manpower," Celluci interjected. "They're doing what they can.”

    Mr. Delgado snorted. "Of course you'd say that, Mister Detective-Sergeant." He gestured at Vicki. "But she shouldn't have to be doing this. She shouldn't