Shadows in the House With Twelve Rooms

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Shadows in the House With Twelve Rooms Page 19

by J. Price Higgins


  Shocked, George realized she was filling a syringe. The lousy bitch! She plans to inject me with something. His leg muscles bunched then released like rubber bands wound too tight. As Bianca whirled toward the sound, his shoulder plowed into her midsection. The syringe clattered across the gazebo floor, bounced down the steps, and fell into silence. The force of his lunge carried them both to the deck, but he kept his grip on her body. Bianca lashed out with her fist and caught his jaw. Sparks flashed behind his eyes as pain roared across his face. She jerked free, leaped up. Her leg rose high then slammed downward. Rolling at the last minute, George caught the heel of her shoe in his thigh. She whirled toward the steps. With a howl of pain, he grabbed her foot and yanked hard. As she hit the deck, he threw himself on top of her.

  "The syringe," he screamed. "You were going to pop me one with that needle, weren't you?"

  Her struggles ceased. "No, George, no. I was frightened. I thought you'd left and I was frightened. I wanted protection."

  "You're lying! No goddamn needle is going to protect you."

  "Yes, it will. I filled it with a harmless nerve potion but it's fast acting. It would give me time to get away." She freed her hands from his. "Please, let me up. I can't breathe."

  George relaxed, brought his feet under him, and started to stand. Bianca raged into action. Her knee missed its target and jammed into his gut. As he grabbed at her leg, fire raked across his cheek and he felt moisture trickling.

  "You bitch." He backhanded her twice. Before she could move, he grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the deck. "You fucking lousy bitch."

  Suddenly her arms were around his neck, pulling his face to hers. His neck bowed and he half rose. Her body arched, pressed tight. "Don't go." Her arms moved to his hips and pulled him hard against her. "Oh, please, don't go," she whispered against his mouth, her thighs grinding. "Come to me, George." Her mouth covered his face with kisses, her body moved with thrusting rhythm. With a groan, he surrendered to the musky fragrance of JeTu and this time, she accepted his driving response.

  Much later, drifting in the euphoria of satiation, George listened to her whispered pleas to take up residence on the island. Easier to monitor the project, she said, but George knew better. She'd just had a taste of the best and she wanted more. Why not go to the island tonight? he thought. The sooner he got settled in, the sooner he could give her what she wanted. When the project was completed, she could go her way and he would go his. Although, if she followed through with all of her promises, she wouldn't let him go alone, she'd want him in her bed every night.

  Snickering to himself at his thoughts, he agreed and almost before he knew it, they were clambering aboard the Pelican. When she locked the cabin door behind them, the look in her eyes told him she didn't intend to wait until they reached their destination.

  Minutes later, the purr of the cruiser only added to George's satisfaction as he watched Bianca button her blouse. She had yet again worked her miracle and although brief, the pleasure had been just as intense as it had been at the gazebo. She smiled at him.

  "We'll be at the island in another five minutes. You won't regret your decision, my pet. I promise."

  "I agreed to help with the campaign, Bianca, and I will. As for your serum, I know now that all I've ever needed was the right woman." He motioned her down onto the couch beside him and stroked his hand along her jaw. "You are incredible. I think I could fall in love with you."

  "Perhaps. Perhaps not. But one thing is certain—before I'm finished, your prowess will be the talk of the town." Her gaze strayed to his groin and George beamed. He might need a shot or two of her libido booster after all—just to keep up with her.

  She rose and going to the cabin door released the lock, then sauntered to the mirrored scene of Pelican Island hanging on the cabin wall. Tilting her head back slightly, she brushed her hair smooth. A discreet tap echoed from the door; Bianca swung it open immediately.

  "You and your guest may disembark now, Doctor Raborman." The man's gaze rested briefly on the four red marks running down George's cheek.

  "Thank you." She motioned toward her companion. "This is George Kayman, Captain Harmon. He'll be quartered on the island from now on."

  George tipped a finger to his forehead. The captain nodded.

  Chapter 25

  Ellery

  "Were you nervous coming down that aisle, Dane?"

  "Not at all." Dane Wyland, tall and handsome in his tuxedo, smiled. "After all, that's what best friends are for. I just hope Matthew didn't mind my giving the bride away."

  "Ha! He was pleased as punch when we received your telegram from Cairo saying you'd be here. Just between the two of us, I think he felt uncomfortable about handing over the care of his sister to someone else."

  "Well, I don't expect he has to worry about Ned Harris," Dane said, waving a hand at someone behind her. "Speaking of Matthew, I do believe he's trying to fix me up with one of his well-favored friends." He gave a melodramatic sigh and rolled his eyes upward. "Duty beckons and I must answer, Doctor Jensen."

  He sauntered to where Vickie and Ned were feeding each other cake. "You two take it easy on the sweet stuff," he said, giving Vickie a peck on the cheek. "I'm off to see what your brother needs to talk to me about."

  "Watch out for him, Dane. You know how he can be when he gets a notion in his head, and it looks like he's got one going where you're concerned."

  "Yeah. It does look that way." He chuckled. "But I'm safe. I have just enough time left to watch you throw the bouquet and then it's off to the airport. Assuming you do the toss within the next thirty minutes or so that is."

  "I will. I hate to see you go so soon, though. We didn't have nearly enough time for me to tell you everything that's going on."

  "Vickie Jensen—pardon me, Harris, a hundred years wouldn't be enough time." He grinned. Turning to the young man standing beside her, he held out his hand. "Take good care of her. Best friends are hard to come by."

  "I will," Ned said solemnly as he shook Dane's hand.

  "See you later." Dane strolled toward the laughing group motioning him over.

  "He certainly grew up to be a handsome man, didn't he?" Vickie said, her gaze following Dane's retreating back.

  "Another two years and his contract with Deuteronomy International will be finished. Wish you'd waited until he came home to stay?" Ned stared down into her blue eyes.

  "Oh you." Vickie smiled. "Best friends aren't the marrying kind." Reaching down, she picked up a wedge of cake covered with whipped cream.

  "Don't you do it, Mrs. Harris," Ned said as he picked up his own gooey slice.

  She did it.

  Ellery brushed cake crumbs from her green silk dress and wiped traces of whipped cream frosting from her lips. She smiled at Vickie and Ned who were giggling like two children while they cleaned each other.

  "Wait," she said. Both dropped their hands and turned to her expectantly. She grabbed a handful of small napkins from the cake table. "I wipe away the final traces," she said gravely. "It is tradition. Victoria first." Vickie blinked at the use of her formal name but bowed her face obediently.

  Ellery reached for a glass of water on the table and dampened the napkins. "With my love," she whispered, gently dabbing the frosting from Vickie's face, "I remove your childhood and keep it safe in my memories." She turned to Ned. "Your turn." He, too, stood quietly with his head lowered. "With my love, I keep my child and return to you a woman." She folded the damp tissues into a compact square. "There. It is done."

  "Mama, that is beautiful." Blue eyes misted. "I didn't know we had that tradition."

  "We didn't, Darling, but maybe we do, now." Ellery patted her daughter's cheek.

  Vickie gazed at Ned with shining eyes then turned back to her mother. "Yes. We do now," she said softly. The strains of Forever Yours wafted across the milling guests. "Our dance, husband." She grabbed Ned's hand and pulled him through the crowd toward a polished dance floor.

&nbs
p; Ellery scanned the room, spotted her sister Margaret resting on one of the chairs lined against the wall. Margaret waved and patted the chair beside her. Ellery headed in her direction.

  "You're daughter is a beautiful bride, Doctor Jensen." A familiar alto echoed behind her.

  Ellery whirled. "Bianca! I didn't think you'd make it."

  "I would never have forgiven myself if I had missed it, Doctor Jensen." Bianca swept her arm in a circle. "Such distinguished guests. I had no idea."

  "Would you like me to introduce you to some of them?" Ellery spoke politely.

  "Not at all." Bianca's eyes bored into Ellery's. "I have been mingling, talking, and listening until my mouth and ears are sore." She nodded toward Maggie. "I believe you were headed somewhere, Doctor. Please don't let me detain you."

  Ellery twisted her head to look over her shoulder. Margaret waved again. "Yes. My sister--" she said, facing forward. Bianca had disappeared among the throng. Ellery shrugged and continued to Margaret's side. Patrick, Margaret's eldest, now occupied the previously vacant chair.

  "Who was that stunning woman you were talking to? Patrick, get up and let your Aunt Ellery sit down." Patrick rose, and ambled toward the dance floor.

  Ellery sank into his vacated chair. "Lord," she sighed. "I didn't realize how tired I am." She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.

  "Well?" Margaret said.

  "Well what?"

  "That woman. Who is she?"

  Ellery cracked open one eye and closed it again. "Bianca Raborman."

  "Ohhh. So that's Doctor Raborman." Margaret poked her sister's side. "You never told me she was so . . . exotic I guess the word is." She stood, her gaze searching the crowd.

  "The word you're looking for is impeccable," Ellery said wryly.

  "Hmmm. If you say so. But I dare say that isn't the word that got that man's attention at Tartarus." Margaret stepped forward and peered toward the swirling dancers.

  "That man is the Pope, Maggie. I don't think he has his mind on what you're thinking." Ellery straightened in her chair. "Who are you trying to find?"

  "Pope or not, he's still a man." Margaret returned to her chair. "I'm looking for Patrick. He was a little pale this morning and said his head hurt. Just before you came over, he mentioned the headache had gotten worse and that he felt nauseous. I want to make sure he's not coming down with something."

  "Headache! What kind of headache?" Ellery bolted up.

  "A plain old . . ." Margaret's color dulled. "It can't be, Ellery. He's too old," she whispered.

  "We don't know that. We just assumed he'd never develop when the normal age came and went."

  As she grabbed Margaret's hand, the band rat-a-tatted for attention. Ellery could see bright gowns and laughing faces beginning to cluster around the bandstand where Victoria stood with her arms raised high. Pale green ribbons dangled in her eyes from the flower arrangement she held.

  "She's getting ready to throw the bouquet. A few more minutes, and they'll be gone, Maggie. We'll find him then." They threaded their way to the dance floor.

  When Vickie saw her mother's face, she waved, and turned her back to the crowd. Drum rolls sounded. Amid laughter and squeals from the waiting hopefuls, Vickie let the flowers soar over her head into the crowd. Melody, Margaret's eighteen year old, jumped up and down when the roses fell into her arms. She blew a kiss to her cousin.

  Hugs, tears, and congratulations followed. At last, Ned and Victoria ran the gauntlet of rice throwing and jumped into their waiting limousine. With one final wave, they were gone. At once, Dane separated himself from Matthew's group and strode to where Ellery stood with her sister.

  "Have to go, Doctor Jensen," he said, giving her a quick hug.

  "So soon, Dane? You can't stay long enough to have dinner with us?"

  "Afraid not. I'm pushing the time barrier pretty far as it is. I just hope I get a cabby who knows how to drive."

  "It's a shame you can't stay longer, see some of the city on a leisurely basis. All those miles—and we've kept you busy rehearsing." Ellery patted his arm with empathy.

  "I would have traveled twice those miles for Vickie, Doctor Jensen. I should have made the trip a lot sooner than I did, I think." Ellery's head jerked up. Dane flushed at her penetrating gaze. "I . . . She . . . I have to go," he stammered, tapping at his watch. He kissed her forehead. "Take care. I'll see you next time I'm in town." He whirled and disappeared into the crowd.

  He's in love with my daughter, Ellery thought with amazement. How painful it must have been for him to give her to someone else. I wonder if Vickie knows. Margaret's hand pulling at her arm turned Ellery's thoughts back to the more pressing problem. She focused on her sister.

  "When did Patrick's head pains start?"

  "I don't know for sure. Early this morning. I didn't ask. I never thought it would matter." Margaret's eyes filled with tears.

  "You find Patrick. I'll find the boys." It's been at least nine hours since the pains started, Ellery thought. Probably more. She released Margaret's arm. "Quickly," she said. "If the development cycle has commenced, we don't have much time."

  From the corner of her eye she saw Matthew talking with Suella and Katherine. She ran to his side. "We have to find Patrick," she cried. "I think he's—"

  A piercing shriek cut through the room, vibrated against the walls. A bunched group near the exit doors suddenly backed away, their faces registering horror. Matthew took off at a dead run with Ellery right behind. Pain filled the room again. From the opposite side of the room, Margaret and her two younger sons charged through the milling crowds.

  On the floor, Patrick's body arched upwards, began to bow backwards. His lips pulled back, exposing his gum line. Frothed blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth as his head jerked violently from side to side.

  Matthew knelt, grabbed Patrick's head, and began to press the young man's chin to his chest. Nathan, Margaret's second son, shoved his hand into his brother's mouth. He held the tongue firmly while his younger brother, Adam, grabbed the twisting legs and pulled with a steady pressure.

  John, with Maria, Katherine, and Suella in tow, appeared from nowhere. "Show's over, folks. We'll take care of him," John said. He began herding the rubbernecking guests through the exit doors. Ellery and her sisters pointed others to the reception hall's wide entry doors. Confident their sisters would keep the room empty, Ellery and Margaret turned back to Matthew who had slipped his hand against the back of his cousin's skull. He looked up, his eyes wide with fear.

  "It's going down, Mother. I don't know if I can stop it."

  "Aaaggghhh!" The sound ripped from Patrick's throat. His head snapped loose from Matthew's grasp and slammed against the floor. Blood flowed from his nostrils. His flailing right arm smashed into Nathan's face.

  "The bud, Matthew. Can you feel the bud?" Ellery flung herself across the thrashing body of her nephew.

  Once again, Matthew slipped his hand beneath Patrick's skull. His brows knotted together as he probed. "I've got it," he said. "It's deep in the whorls and still closed, but its beginning to vibrate. If we can stop the mass from moving down long enough . . . " He jerked his hand free, and grasping the young man's head with both hands, he thrust it forward.

  "Don't," Margaret screamed. "He's going into full rigidity. You'll break his neck." She reached down and yanked at Matthew's hair. Tears streamed down her face.

  Ellery sprang to her feet and shoved her sister back. "If we can't get the mass moving upward, Margaret, he's a dead man," she hissed. Holding the sobbing woman firmly, she turned back to her son. "Get the head down. One way or another. It's his only chance."

  Matthew swallowed hard and nodded. Rising to his knees, he clasped his cousin's head between his forearms with fingers locked together across the back of the skull.

  He pressed forward.

  Margaret buried her head in Ellery's shoulder and shook uncontrollably.

  Chapter 26

  Bianca

>   Twenty feet away, hidden by the bandstand, Bianca stared at Patrick's grotesque contortions. She watched Matthew bend the young man's head forward, heard Ellery's choked question.

  "The bud, Matthew! Is it unfolding?"

  "Not yet, Mother," he rasped. "Turn him over, Adam. Lie across his legs," he ordered. "Forget the tongue, Nathan. Hold him flat."

  John joined the other three. They turned their cousin face down, all the while keeping his head bent to his chest. John moved forward and held it tightly bowed with his knees while Matthew gently parted the longish hair concealing the neck.

  Bianca's hand flew to her mouth. She stared at the angry red bulge jutting from the base of Patrick's skull. It pulsated as if something trapped was trying to claw its way free. My God! What's happening over there? she thought. What is that thing on his neck? Matthew's back swung toward her as he leaned over his cousin's body and she could no longer see the growth.

  Another shriek blasted into her ears, gurgled to a long moan. Suddenly, the young man's body went limp and began to jerk like a loose-jointed puppet being pulled into a crazy dance. The jerking subsided into subtle trembling and the four men sat back, their faces covered with perspiration.

  Matthew looked up at Ellery. "It's unfolding and pulling the mass up with it. The brain stem's out of danger."

  Margaret dropped beside her son. Gathering his shaking body into her arms, she held him tight and crooned softly into his ear while her hand smoothed damp curls away from his face.

  Ellery reached down and patted her sister's head. "He's going to be okay, Maggie."

  "I pray he will," Margaret said. She laid her cheek against his. "Oh, God, the fever's coming. We have to go." She stood. Looking around the empty room, staring at food-laden tables and cases of champagne, her eyes once more brimmed with tears. "I'm sorry, El."

  "Don't be. When birth time comes, Maggie, birth time comes." Ellery hugged her sister close. "Now get him home. Your vigil's not over yet."

 

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