Cat Adams - The Isis Collar

Bruno said, “But don’t you think—”

I interrupted him. “You’re right; the normal parameters don’t apply.” I tried to take a deep breath that came out as a series of shallow coughs. “Too fast. Everything is too fast. I’m really worried about the people at the school.”

Rizzoli appeared again and I hadn’t seen him enter. I didn’t like that. I also didn’t like that he gave Gaetano a warning look. They knew more than they were saying. I was going to find out what that was, one way or another.

Dr. Sloan walked in as Bruno was struggling to get the chest bands to release. He went to the wall, fumbling to get the heavy, oddly shaped metal key into the slot that controlled the restraints. My fingernails started tapping on the metal, trying to hurry him by sheer effort. Finally the key turned and I heard a click. I hadn’t been kind to the metal in my struggles, but thankfully the bands all slid back into the tabletop and I finally took my first deep breath since I’d arrived in the room. I immediately got off the table and started stretching to see what was just stiff and sore versus … well, versus other things that made my chest tight. “That was a close one.” Dr. Sloan spoke sort of under his breath and it made me respond.

“What was?”

He shook his head as I tugged on the chopped leg of my jeans. They’d cut it short—really short, probably in case they had to do more injections. But I had swimsuits that covered more. I felt unusually bare in a room full of men. I didn’t catch any of them staring, but I was ready to change into something a little less revealing.

“I heard Dr. Lackley’s voice in the building. He’s been working a lot of nights and he’s been on a rampage lately about unauthorized use of the facilities. I didn’t want him to catch us in here like … like this. I really want to work with Bruno on his project. I’d hate to have an incident involving him after lab hours. So I intercepted him and asked him for a copy of a student evaluation I knew he’d have to get from his office. But we’ll have to leave soon.”

Bruno let out a noise that told me he remembered the college president all too well and was happy to avoid a confrontation. Of course, he and I aren’t on the best of terms, either. I wouldn’t say that Donald Lackley precisely hates me, but he hates what I represent. I’m one of those really stubborn people who take advantage of openings and then won’t leave. “Yeah, he’d be happy to use this as an excuse to boot my butt out of here.”

I was technically an enrolled student, so I could use the facilities during school hours. But Dr. Lackley was just waiting for me to screw up. I was one of the last holdouts of a failed promotion that the school had canceled once the administration had realized the potential long-term costs. I had no doubt he was pushing the professor to kick me out of the gardening class, but this would be even better as far as he was concerned. The Board would never question a clear rule violation to end my insurance. Of course, what good is insurance if it doesn’t work? Maybe I should just let it end.

We snuck out the back door of the building, leaving Dr. Sloan to deal with Lackley then meet us outside. The night air was cold and moist, feeling more of fall than spring. The overhead lights were hazy through the mist, but my vampire eyesight quickly took over and the world became sharply defined. Even in the darkest shadows, I could see the outline of every tree, every person walking across the quad toward the dorms or snuggling in pairs on blankets on the grass. In fact, I could see each individual blade of grass. It’s amazing to me how much of the world I had missed seeing when I was human.

Dr. Sloan was waiting on the sidewalk near the front door and joined us silently. I wanted to ask a ton of questions, but now wasn’t the time. We moved as a group toward the parking lot, keeping quiet until we were well outside the invisible barrier that surrounded the science building. It was only then that anyone felt comfortable enough to stop and speak.

As usual, Rizzoli took charge. “So what’s next? Who’s going with who? I brought Celia here, so someone is going to have to take her to the hospital.”

The headlights of a tall truck, slowly winding through the narrow campus roadways, appeared. Dr. Sloan said, “Oh, look, that’s probably the table from the FBI. Come, Bruno, Agent Rizzoli—help me flag it down.” He moved off with speed that was astounding for a man his age. Rizzoli smiled and followed at a sprint.

The table. Crap. I’d forgotten all about it. Was it the memory problems again, or just too much happening in too small a space of time?

Bruno groaned. “I should have remembered how he is before I asked him to be my advisor. I’ll be the equivalent of a slave for the next year.” He pulled me into a hug. “Go get tested. Be okay and call me when you know something. Okay? I’ll check on you in the morning.” I was enjoying the sensation of his body against mine, warm and alive. He is the best damned hugger ever. The scent of his cologne and his skin muddied my mind, and apparently I didn’t respond quickly enough, because Bruno pulled back. “Okay?”

“Hmm? Oh! Sure, okay. I’ll do that.” I’d had to blink repeatedly to focus on his question, and he smiled with possessive amusement.

I cleared my throat and felt a blush rise again. “But you try to get some sleep sometime. Dr. Sloan will probably work you until you drop tonight, getting the circle up around that table.” I leaned forward to give him a quick kiss, but he pulled back, an alarmed expression widening his eyes.

“That would probably be a bad idea until we know more, don’t you think? No kissing until you’re cleared by Dr. Gaetano. And no … other things, either.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Like I said, other things haven’t been an issue for a while.” In fact, the last other thing I’d indulged in had been with Bruno, years ago. But that was nobody’s business. While I’d never really thought about it, and my therapist, Gwen, had never asked, it was probably significant. The more I thought about that, the weirder it seemed. I could nearly hear Gwen’s voice in my head, asking whether I was carrying a torch for Bruno that hadn’t allowed me to get close to anyone.

Eek.

He took my expression of sudden panic the wrong way. “Good. You’re taking this seriously. Now go.” He trotted off toward the two men standing next to the now-parked, unmarked, Army-style canvas truck. I listened hard, trying to focus on their conversation, but they were whispering and all I got was mud.

That left me and Dr. Gaetano alone. I looked at him and shrugged. “Guess it’s you and me.”

“Let’s get moving. We’ll get you checked into the isolation ward and start the testing.”

Whoa. The isolation ward ? “Isn’t that a little extreme? I thought you said it was pretty much gone.”

He nodded as he started to walk toward one of the few cars left in the parking lot, a low-slung silver car that was nearly the color of the touch of gray nibbling at his temples. “On your leg, yes. But I have no way of knowing whether your internal organs have been compromised. Until we test to make sure you’re clear of the infection, we have to treat you as infected and contagious.”

Oh, what fun. I got to go from being tied down to locked up. What a terrific night this was turning out to be.

“Again? You just took samples twenty minutes ago. What’s up with the lab tonight?” The technician with a nameplate reading Brad was the same guy who’d been in three times in the past two hours. The blue scrubs and blood-draw cart were becoming a regular sight, which wasn’t a good thing. He gave me a dirty look and I gave him one right back. I’d been locked behind glass and silver-steel doors for hours now, dressed in one of those stupid floral print cotton gowns. At least I was still wearing my bra and panties and, oddly, I did feel more covered than wearing the jeans. They’d given me the option to leave on my street clothes, but at least in the gown I wasn’t flashing everyone who walked by down the hallway. Thankfully, Dawna was on her way down with fresh clothes. I felt horrible calling her considering how early she’d gotten up. But I had tried Emma first, who wasn’t home, and Gran didn’t really drive much anymore.