Midnight Redeemer

by Nancy Gideon

  Louis glanced at the vials then back into her eyes. “You didn't take these precautions with your own cure.” Then his voice lowered to an emotional rumble. “I felt the change in you. Is it true? Are you free of the disease?"

  "Yes.” That single word trembled with the force of her relief.

  His green eyes glowed with happiness and impatience. “Then what do we wait for? I wish to be whole again, too."

  Stacy hedged. It was one thing being cavalier about her own life but quite another when it came to risking his. “The process was much more complicated in your case, Louis. I can't be sure of the results. I want to test it first."

  "How?"

  She could hear the richness of urgency in his tone and knew it wouldn't be easy to hold him back from something he'd desired for centuries. But she'd already thought of that and had the solution ready.

  "We have a test subject below. Not a voluntary one, but a handy one. And after what he did to my neighbor and those other girls, I'm afraid my ethics aren't bothering me at all. And besides, if the properties are altered in his blood, he'll be useless to Harper, and that will be one less problem we have to deal with."

  His hand brushed through her hair as his expression grew serious. “You know we can't stay here, don't you?"

  She smiled up at him. “I know. I have nothing that I'll regret leaving behind and everything to look forward to."

  "Then let's find Quinton."

  "We have no security badges. The lower level is guarded round-the-clock."

  Smiling mildly, Louis stripped off two sheets from her self-stick note pad and pressed one to the pocket of his navy blue silk shirt and the other to the lapel of her lab coat. When her brows crinkled in puzzlement, he explained, “To anyone we encounter, it will look like a very official badge giving me free run of the facility."

  "Okay,” she murmured, choosing to believe he had that power to cloud minds because it would make things so much easier for them. “He's being kept on the security level below us. Cobb wouldn't tell me exactly where, but I'm sure the number of guards present will give us all the clue we need. Louis..."

  "What is it?"

  "We have to take care of Quinton, one way or the other, tonight. Government officials are coming in tomorrow, and after that, we may never get close to him again."

  He nodded, understanding the importance of her plan. The knowledge of Quinton's dark existence as well as the potential of Stacy's vaccine could never fall into their hands.

  Picking up several of the vials and a capped syringe, Stacy took a breath and smiled grimly at her elegant companion. “Let's go."

  As the doors shut them into their own private space in the elevator, Louis turned to take Stacy in his arms. His words rumbled with tender emotion. “I have asked dangerous things of you, Little One. Are you sure you want to continue? I can take care of Quinton."

  "You haven't asked anything that I wasn't willing to give. I'm not backing out now. We're both in this together. What affects you affects me. I'm not afraid."

  "Sometimes I think you should be. I know I am for you."

  His words were a curative science could never replicate. She touched his taut cheek, tracing his high cheekbone with her thumb, the gesture tender and telling. Then she stepped back to gain the more dispassionate distance the situation demanded.

  "Tomorrow we'll be away from here, on our way to a new life. I'll gladly take any hurdle they throw in my way. They're trying to steal my work, to distort it to fit their plans. And they're interfering with my future happiness. They're the ones who should be afraid."

  He kissed her then, a necessarily short but exquisitely revealing kiss that weakened her knees and strengthened her resolve.

  They would have to move fast. First Quinton, then the remaining research. There must be no clues left for Harper to follow.

  The rest of the elevator ride was spent in an anticipatory silence, but just as the doors opened to the security floor below, the shriek of the building's alarm made a harsh greeting. Louis gripped Stacy's arm.

  "What is it?"

  She shook her head in uncertainty, but instinctively she knew.

  It was Quinton.

  Smoke billowed down the hall in a dark, noxious cloud. From out of it, several uniformed guards appeared. Behind them was Frank Cobb. The guards rushed on as if they didn't see the couple emerging from the elevator. Cobb stopped before them.

  "Frank, what's happened?"

  Cobb's expression was all grim business. “He got loose. Starke couldn't wait until daylight to begin her experiments. She's dead."

  That blunt summation made Stacy wince. She had no fondness for the woman who'd done everything possible to discredit her and her career, but she wouldn't have wished Quinton Alexander upon her. Upon anyone, for that matter.

  "Where is he?” Louis demanded.

  "I don't know. He started a chemical fire in the lab to cover his escape. One of the guards pulled the alarm. If the security system isn't shut down within two minutes, there's a self-destruct in place."

  "A what?” Stacy looked between the two men in dismay.

  "It's assumed if no one is left to disarm the system, national security has been compromised. The building will lock down, and the underground levels will be gone in seconds. The ultimate clean sweep. No culpability for the government. No questions for Harper to answer.” He pushed her back into the elevator. “Get out of here."

  "But my work. I can't let them have my research. If they reset the system, they'll still have everything, and we'll never be safe."

  "Then I guess I'll just have to do the right thing, won't I?"

  Calmly, Cobb withdrew his sidearm and with a firm deliberation fired four shots into the security panel. Sparks fountained, and the scent of crisped circuitry burnt the nose with its acrid stench. All the lights gave a last flicker of life then the panel went dark. There would be no reviving it in time. In a matter of a minute, there would be nothing left to find. All evidence of her work would be gone, along with Harper Research's marriage to the government.

  "I'll get everyone out,” Cobb told her. “Go. Don't stop for anything. I'll meet you at my car.” He looked to Louis. “Make sure she gets there."

  "I will,” Louis promised, pushing the button to close the doors.

  "Frank!"

  But the doors closed just as he turned toward her with a small, lopsided smile.

  Once he was sure Stacy was out of danger, Cobb turned to the task at hand, shouting to the remaining guards to leave the building. Then he, too, took the elevator up.

  Greg Forrester met him where the doors opened on the executive floor.

  "What the hell happened, Cobb?"

  "Your experiment got out of hand. I suggest you exit the building while you still can."

  "What about Starke and Kimball?"

  "They're dead."

  Forrester flinched, but he didn't question Cobb's gruff claim. “And the ... the vampire?"

  "Gone."

  Uttering a fierce oath, Forrester gripping Cobb's arm. “Find him, Cobb. I want him back. This opportunity is not going to escape me. I don't care if you have to go to the ends of the Earth, you find him."

  "Yes, sir."

  * * * *

  The ride up in the elevator seemed interminable. Each second brought destruction closer. Gripping onto Louis's arm, Stacy prayed they wouldn't be trapped in the steel prison. Finally, they came to a smooth stop and, with an atonal ding, the doors opened. They bolted from the elevator and ran toward the nearest exit doors. They had to get out of the building and off the property before the complete lockdown, which would happen in stages throughout the facility. Once they were through the door stenciled with the Harper logo and outside the main building, Stacy whispered words of thanksgiving.

  On the parking level, she and Louis raced down the dim, nearly empty aisles toward Cobb's vehicle. Halfway through the garage, a tremendous shock wave rumbled through the structure. Stacy pitched against Louis, grabbing
on tight as concrete dust filtered down atop them. The sprinkling system came on automatically, its fine spray drenching them and quickly puddling the cement floor. Pushing her wet hair out of her face, Stacy pointed ahead.

  "There. The black one."

  They started to run toward the car. Stacy's gaze flew about the dim and now hazy cavern.

  "Where's Frank?"

  "He can take care of himself, Little One."

  A soft voice interrupted.

  "But who will take care of you?"

  Louis turned toward the speaker. Suddenly, he was no longer at Stacy's side. He flew backward, across the aisle and into the back of Forrester's new Mercedes. The shriek of the car alarm echoed off the low ceiling and had Stacy clutching her hands to her ears as she looked from where Louis sprawled across the dented trunk lid to his smug attacker.

  "Hello, Stacy. Didn't think I'd let you leave without saying good-bye, did you?"

  Quinton Alexander's fangs gleamed white and terrible as he grinned.

  "Run, Stacy,” Louis shouted. “Hide yourself."

  She ran. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a blur of movement as Louis launched himself across the open space to knock Quinton to the wet floor. They rolled together like a pair of wolves, growling, snapping, looking for weakness, and Stacy didn't look back until she'd found a safe place to crouch behind the bulk of a Suburban.

  Huddled behind one of the massive tires, she peered out from under the vehicle. Her breath plumed in the cold, misty air. She shivered from the continued spray above and from the terror coursing through her. But thoughts of her own safety were a distance second.

  What could she do to help Louis?

  From her low vantage point, all she could see was the scuffle of feet as the two age-old enemies grappled with one another. She saw Louis's Italian loafers leave the ground, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Then there was silence.

  She waited a long moment, trying to quiet her breathing, trying to decide what to do. Would her interference be help or hindrance in Louis's fight against the crazed Alexander? Perhaps she could step out and distract the beast long enough for Louis to get the upper hand.

  If only she knew where they both were.

  Their psychic link. Yes. She could contact Louis and—

  But what if Quinton could pick up on those same telepathic vibrations? She didn't know enough about the shared phenomenon to risk both giving herself away and perhaps dangerously compromising Louis at a critical moment. Better she trust him and wait.

  But waiting had never been easy for Stacy.

  She started to edge forward, to rise up for just a quick look...

  The sound of crunching of metal forced her to drop back out of sight. Someone was running across the rooftops of the few cars scattered about in the lot, leaping the sometimes fifteen to twenty foot span between them. Louis or Quinton? Dare she stand and cry out? Or would that make her a ready target for Quinton's sick revenge?

  What good would curing herself do if she were to die in this steamy garage at the hands of a madman, if she couldn't grant Louis his wish for mortality?

  She felt a rush of air behind her.

  Hairs rose on the back of her neck in a horrifying prickle. Slowly, she turned her head to face the hideously grinning Quinton Alexander.

  "Peek-a-boo,” he taunted, his hand shooting out to fist in her hair.

  She cried out as he dragged her to her feet and shoved her forward, out into the open aisle. There, she saw Cobb squared off like an old-fashioned gunfighter readying for a quick draw contest. Dismay flickered upon his ravaged face as he assessed her situation. Then his professionalism took over.

  "Let her go,” came his icy demand. He drew his gun and braced it with his other hand, sighting down the barrel for what should have been a killing shot.

  Alexander only laughed. “Your toys cannot harm me, mortal fool."

  Cobb smiled narrowly. “They can when the bullets are cast in silver. You can only take me by surprise once, if you're lucky. You're luck's just run out. Stacy, walk toward me."

  But Quinton's grip tightened as he ducked in closer behind her. Stacy whimpered as his cold breath blew with chill anticipation against her exposed throat. She tried to keep her focus on Cobb, clinging to the hope that he would somehow save her from this madman's grasp. But she didn't know how he could manage it. Perhaps this was how it was meant to end, with no happiness for her, no salvation for Louis.

  No.

  That couldn't be true. It couldn't. Not after all she'd gone through, all she'd survived already.

  Louis! Are you there? Are you all right?

  She couldn't feel him in her thoughts. She had only her own resources to rely upon.

  She threw her elbow back with all her strength, feeling the thud of its impact with Alexander's ribs. He grunted in surprise then laughed at her attempt to escape him.

  "You'll have to do better than that, my dear,” he mocked her.

  "How about this?"

  Louis's question caught them both off guard. As Quinton turned with a snarl, Louis swung a car bumper like a baseball bat. The heavy gauge metal collided with the side of Alexander's head, bowling him over, Stacy tumbling with him. She rolled free, skinning hands and knees on the slick pavement. The vials spewed from her pocket, tinkling across the wet cement. Fumbling for them, she found one shattered and one other whole. She tucked it into the safety of her purse as she searched for the last two.

  And then Louis was there, lifting her up, enveloping her in the security of his embrace.

  Spread-eagle on the ground, Quinton snarled up at Cobb as the agent looked down the short barrel of his gun for a killing shot.

  "This is not over, human,” he hissed.

  "You're wrong there.” He steadied for a clean, conclusive end to Alexander. But the vampire had no intention of obliging him.

  "We will meet again, meddler, and then I will have your soul."

  And Quinton was gone.

  After blinking in brief amazement, Cobb let the revolver drop to his side, shifting his attention to Stacy.

  "Are you all right, Doc?"

  Stacy grinned at him weakly. “You are one handy guy to have around, Cobb."

  She caught the keys he tossed her.

  "Go on. Take my car. Get out of here before the gates lock down. I told Forrester you were killed with Starke. He won't know the truth until they sift through that mess inside. By then, you can be far away and out of his reach."

  "But what about you?"

  "I already have a new job to do. One that won't strain my concepts of right and wrong. One I think I'll rather enjoy.” He touched the raw gash on the side of his face and smiled rather grimly.

  "Be careful."

  She crossed to him in a rush and, knowing she'd never see him again, hugged him fiercely, pressing a quick, hard kiss to his uninjured cheek. When she stepped back, he was grinning wryly.

  "See. Told you you'd come to like me. Now get. I'll handle things here."

  After a nod toward the other man, Louis took hold of her arm, guiding her toward the car. By the time she slipped behind the wheel and glanced into the rearview, there was no sign of Frank Cobb in the puddled aisle. She slammed the vehicle into reverse and, with a squeal of tires and rubber track, sped out of the garage and away from Harper.

  And she didn't look back.

  If she had, she would have seen Frank Cobb glancing down at something he'd nudged with the toe of his boot. He bent to examine the blood-red vials then slipped them into his pocket. He flicked out a cigarette, lit it and sent a thick stream of smoke jetting toward the tubed lighting overhead.

  "Good-bye, Doc. And good luck,” he called after the final blink of taillights.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Stacy didn't share Cobb's optimism that someone from Harper wouldn't come looking right away. Beneath his shiny thousand dollar suits and smarmy smile, Greg Forrester was a street fighter. He wouldn't back down until he had what he wanted
. So she would just have to see that they were well out of his greedy reach. They'd want Stacy back to reconstruct her notes now that Starke's foolishness had gotten her killed.

  She wouldn't be Harper's prisoner again even if they gave her carte blanche in the research department.

  Some things had no price tag. Integrity was one of them. Her father had taught her that.

  Continually checking the rear view mirror, she directed the sleek sports car down the less congested midnight streets of Seattle.

  "This isn't the way to your apartment,” Louis commented as they sped past the turn off.

  She thought of what those rooms contained—the evidence of her lonely life. Gaudy clothing made to seduce passion but not to submit to love. Trappings of a woman she no longer had to be. A broken computer that would give no secrets away. A collection from a child's dreams, remnants of a happy fairy tale she could never claim ... until now. Her chance of happiness wasn't contained in those faded memories. It rode beside her.

  "There's nothing there I need. I'm not that person any more."

  Louis said nothing, but his small smile conveyed his understanding. They were both about to embark on an adventure, reaching for what had previously been frustratingly out of their grasp. No longer.

  He hadn't asked, so she told him.

  "I have everything you need with me. There's no time now. When we get where we're going."

  "And where is that, Little One?"

  It was her turn to smile and be mysterious. “I'm not without resources. I've got the means. The destination is up to you."

  They stopped outside his building. Stacy was about to suggest she wait while he went up to retrieve his manservant when the aged Asian appeared at the front door. He walked briskly toward the car and nodded.

  I've taken care of everything, Master.

  His voice sounded within her head. Stacy could only stare, amazed.

  "Very good, Takeo. We are leaving tonight. Have everything waiting at the airport as we discussed."

  Yes, sir. And the lady?

  "She's traveling with us. See all my accounts are transferred and everything is readied for shipping."

  I will be ready.

  With that assurance, he went back across the street and disappeared into the old hotel.