Blood Pact

pattern from there.”

    "Not on your life." She wasn't going near the lab. Bad enough she could still hear him calling her in spite of half a bottle of Scotch. "You'll have to drag me. Which might alert Security. There'll be a brouhaha. Your Henry Fitzroy ends up confiscated by the government. You want to go to the lab, you can find it on your own.”

    Vicki leaned forward, laying her hands on the desk, fingertips not quite touching the doctor's, her posture more of a threat than her earlier actions had been. "Then you'll give us very precise directions.”

    "Or you'll what? Try to pay attention, Ms. Nelson, you can't do anything until you rescue your friend.”

    "I can beat your fucking face in.”

    "And what will that accomplish? If you beat the directions out of me, I can guarantee they won't be accurate. Try to be realistic, Ms. Nelson, if you can. You and your flat-footed friend here can go and try to find Mr. Fitzroy, but you'll have to leave me out of it."
    Not even in words would she trace the path to the lab again. "But just to show there's no hard feelings, I'll let you in on a nonsecret.
    There's a way into the old building from the north end of the underground parking lot. Security's supposed to have video cameras down there, but they ran out of money. Don't say I never gave you anything. Happy trails.”

    Celluci took hold of Vicki's shoulder and pulled her gently but inexorably away from the desk. "And what will you be doing while we're searching?”

    "The same thing I was doing when you showed up." Dr. Burke bent and opened the bottom drawer of her desk, pulling out an unopened bottle of Scotch. "Attempting to drink myself into a stupor. Thank God, I always keep a spare." It took three tries before the paper seal tore. "I assure you, I'm not going anywhere.”

    "Why not, when at the very least you'll be facing a murder charge?" Vicki asked, shaking free of Celluci's hold.

    "You're still on about your mother, aren't you?" The doctor sighed and stared for a moment into the pale depths of the amber liquid before continuing. "I lost interest in the game when Donald died." The bottle became a silver casket. She shuddered and raised her head, looking past Vicki's glasses, meeting her eyes. "Essentially, and I beg your pardon, Ms. Nelson, if the word offends you, but it's the only one that fits, essentially, I just don't care any more.”

    And she didn't. Even through her own grief and rage and confusion, Vicki could see that. "Come on.” Pulling her bag up onto her shoulder, she jerked her head toward the door. "She's not going anywhere right now.”

    "You believe her?”

    Vicki took another look into Dr. Burke's eyes and recognized what she saw there. "Yeah. I believe her.” She paused at the door.
    "One more thing; you may not care now but don't think you'll be able to use your knowledge of Henry as a bargaining chip later . . .”

    "Later," Dr. Burke interrupted, both hands around the bottle to keep from spilling any of the Scotch as she refilled her mug,
    "without an actual creature to run tests on, I can scream vampire until I'm blue in the face and no one will believe a word I say. Grave robbing does not help to maintain credibility in the scientific community.”

    "Not to mention murdering one of your grad students," Celluci pointed out dryly.

    Dr. Burke snorted and raised the mug in a sarcastic salute. "You'd be surprised.”

    "Jesus H. Christ." Celluci slammed the flat of his hand against the wall in frustration. "This place is like a maze; hallways that don't go anywhere, classrooms that lead to hidden offices, labs that suddenly appear . . .”

    Vicki played the powerful beam of her flashlight down the hall. With the one in four emergency lighting on in the old building, she could see well enough to keep from crashing into things but not well enough to identify the things she wasn't crashing into. Only the area starkly illuminated by her flashlight held any definition. It was like she was moving through the slides of a bizarre vacation, stepping into a scene just as it was replaced by the next. Her nerves were stretched so tightly she could almost hear them twang with every movement.

    Her dead mother was walking around in this building.

    Every time she moved her circle of sight she wondered, Will this be the time I see her? And when all that showed was another empty room or bit of hall, she wondered, Is she standing in the darkness beside me? Under her jacket and sweater, her