Blood Pact

"we'll have time to convince Dr. Burke that she's wrong.”

    There were many words number nine didn't understand, so he merely placed his palms where hers had been, and pushed.

    The isolation box rumbled forward.

    "Stop.”

    Number nine stopped pushing. The box moved a few inches farther, then ground to a halt under its own weight.

    "Yes! We can do this together!" Catherine threw her arms around number nine in an impulsive hug, ignoring the way tissue compacted under her touch, ignoring the smell that had begun to rise.

    Number nine struggled to recognize what he felt.

    It was . . .

    It was . . .

    Then her arms were gone and it was lost.

    Stepping back, Catherine glanced around the lab. "We can hide the vampire and the other isolation box as well. That way, Dr.
    Burke won't be able to hold you hostage for his return. The dialysis machine is portable and an IV drip can replace the nutrient pump for a few days. We'll take one of the computers with us just in case Dr. Burke takes too long to come to her senses. You shouldn't suffer from lack of input just because she's being stubborn.”

    Then she paused. "Oh, no. Donald." Reaching out, she patted the box that enclosed the body of the other grad student. "I can't unplug you, Donald, it's too soon. I'm sorry, but we'll have to leave you here." She sighed deeply. "I only hope that Dr. Burke will allow you to finish developing. She's just not thinking straight, Donald. I've had this feeling lately that all she wants is fame and money, that she doesn't care about the experiments. I care. I know you'll understand.”

    Checking her watch, she hurried back across the room to the computer terminal, copied the day's work onto a disk, and then scrubbed it from the main memory. "Just in case," she murmured, slipping the copy into her lab coat pocket. "I can't leave her a way out.”

    On her way back to where number nine waited patiently, she picked up the vampire's trench coat and the shirt she'd had to remove as well. She didn't have time to dress him again, but she spread them neatly over the body before closing the lid and latching it.

    "This is going to take all of us. Number ten, come here.”

    Released from the compulsion to stay, she rose to her feet. "Come here" was not an implanted command so, although she knew what it meant, she moved toward the door.

    She had something she had to do.

    "Stop." Catherine shook her head and circled around number ten until she could look her in the face. "There's something the matter, isn't there? I wish you could tell me what it was, maybe I could help. But you can't tell me and, right now, we've all got problems.”

    Taking hold of one gray-green wrist, Catherine led Marjory Nelson's body over to stand beside the front end of the box, wrapped dark-tipped fingers around a metal handle, and said, "Hold.”

    The fingers tightened.

    With number nine pushing and number ten obeying rapid orders to push or pull, the massive piece of equipment, and the body it contained, rumbled across the lab and out into the hall.

    . . . you could tell me what it was . . .

    . . . you could tell me . . .

    She remembered talking.

    If vampires exist. . . Dr. Burke scribbled a question mark in the margin of an application for summer research funds that had been handed in at absolutely the last minute. . . . and they very obviously do, then just think of what else might be out there. Demons.
    Werewolves. The Creature from the Black Lagoon. Even though her cheeks were beginning to ache, she couldn't control the spreading grin. Hadn't been able to control it all afternoon. Henry Fitzroy's blood will enable me to collect every accolade the scientific community possesses on a silver platter. In fact, they'll have to create new awards, just for me.

    They would have to take precautions, of course. The legendary vampire had been accredited with a number of abilities that could be a threat. While many of them could be discounted out of hand, as he hadn't been able to get out of the isolation box before sunrise, the actual vampire appeared incapable of becoming mist, he was very strong; the dents he'd added to number nine's pattern on the inside of the lid testified to that. So it's probably best that he spend his nights locked in that box.

    He'd have to be fed, of course, if only to replace the fluids Catherine removed during the day. Fortunately, there were a number of small tubes available that blood could be passed through.

    And as for the