She brushed Scott’s hand from her shoulder. “I’m going with you.”
“It would be better if you didn’t. There’s no telling what condition he’s in. He may not be at death’s door, but watching a vampire fighting for his life can be pretty hard to take.”
“It can’t be any worse than what I’ve already witnessed. I want to go with you.” She grasped Scott’s shirtsleeve. “Please.”
Scott gave her a short nod. “All right, let’s go see if there’s anything we can do.”
JONAH DIDN’T KNOW how long he’d been drifting in and out of consciousness, his body on fire and wracked with pain. In his lucid moments, Angela’s face floated before him. Once, he even reached out and tried to touch her, to hold her and draw her near to him before he realized she was nothing more than a hallucination.
Once he thought he heard her voice. And Scott’s voice. They were both so close, he thought he could touch them. He tried to lift his hand, but it was as heavy as the steel door to his chamber. His body thrashed around again and his head felt as if a thousand fiery knives had been thrust into his skull.
He heard the voices again. He was certain one of them belonged to Angela. She was here with him. He called out her name, but before she could answer, he was overcome by darkness.
THEY HAD BARELY stepped into the room when Jonah called out her name. Angela hurried over to the coffin. She reached out to touch his face and the heat almost seared her skin. He was burning up! She spun around to find Scott behind her. “He’s like a furnace.”
Scott stepped up and pressed his palm to Jonah’s forehead. “When he was a child, he had a fever once, but I don’t remember him ever being this hot.” He turned to face her. “There’s nothing else you can tell me?”
She shook her head, squeezing her eyes to hold back the tears. “No. Nothing that I can remember.” She ran her hand down Jonah’s arm and twined her fingers with his, the heat from his body radiating through hers. How could he survive this? Suddenly, Jonah’s body began to shake. She grabbed Scott’s arm. “Can’t you do something?”
“I’ll call Michael.”
She was puzzled. “Who?”
“Michael, Julian’s guardian. He takes care of Julian’s worldly affairs the same way I look after Jonah’s. Michael’s knowledgeable on almost every subject in the universe and an expert in medical matters. It was Michael who came up with the formula for Double B. If anyone can give us some insight, it’s him.”
“Then let’s call him right now.” Her hand was still locked with Jonah’s and while the trembling had eased, his fever had not.
“I have to go outside to place the call. We can’t get a signal within these steel reinforced walls.”
“Hurry.”
“You’ll have to come with me. Michael might ask some questions that only you can answer.”
She was torn. She didn’t want to leave Jonah. But she had no choice. She bent down and kissed Jonah’s forehead. Reluctantly, she unlaced their fingers and followed Scott to the door.
Outside Jonah’s quarters, Scott moved down the hall until he received a signal on his cell phone. Angela waited anxiously until the call was connected.
After a greeting to Michael, Scott proceeded to explain Jonah’s condition. When Scott finished with his explanation he nodded every few seconds and finally turned to Angela.
“Did Jonah take any of your blood?”
“A little. But he seemed agitated and stopped.” She remembered how she had been frightened at his aggressiveness. “He thrashed around, then he let out an awful bloodcurdling scream and threw himself against the wall.”
Angela’s fists clenched and unclenched as Scott relayed the information. Scott put his hand over the mouthpiece. “Do you know anything about your ancestors?”
“Like what?”
“Were any of them from the Mediterranean?”
She thought for a moment. “My paternal great-great-grandmother was from Greece.” What could that possibly have to do with Jonah?
Angela waited anxiously while Scott talked to Michael. The tension inside her built to an unbearable pitch before Scott finally ended the call and turned to her.
“Michael has a very good idea what’s wrong with Jonah.”
“And?”
“It seems a few months ago, your friend Simone was very ill. Her symptoms, which were very similar to Jonah’s, piqued Michael’s interest and he did an investigation into the source of her illness. Just a few weeks ago, he discovered that your friend was a carrier of a virus common in the Mediterranean more than a century ago. Ironically, he also discovered, through research, that an opposite viral strain was present in the Whitcombe’s bloodline.
“It seems that under certain circumstances, even a small amount of a Whitcombe’s blood, when mixed with that of someone carrying that other viral strain, can cause a severe illness to either, or both parties. Our main concern now is getting Jonah well as quickly as possible. The longer his fever runs unchecked, the longer it will take him to regain his strength. And with the audition looming, we don’t need any more delays.”
“Is there anything we can do?”
“Actually, there’s an antibiotic Michael believes can hasten Jonah’s recovery.”
“Can you get some?”
“I think so. One of our Watchers is a physician in the area.”
Angela paced the narrow hallway while Scott made the call to the doctor. When the call ended, Scott pocketed his cell phone and started toward Jonah’s quarters. She followed on his heels.
They paused at Jonah’s door. “I should let you know that Michael has already begun work on a vaccine. It’s possible this could happen again to any of the brothers or their mates.”
Scott’s pronouncement sank in just as the door opened, but she pushed it aside. She didn’t have time to worry about the possibility of getting sick herself. Jonah was the one in trouble now.
JONAH WAS AWAKENED from the darkness by sharp, stabbing pains in his head that gradually eased but left him in a fog. Eventually, as his head cleared, he became aware of moisture sliding from his forehead onto his face. He passed his tongue over his parched lips and drew what moisture he could into his mouth.
From the back of his mind, a thought formed. Sweating meant his fever had broken. He felt only momentary relief, however, before his body began the familiar twitching that signaled the imminent onset of another violent seizure. His body grew warm, then started to burn. The fever was back.
He tried to send Angela’s name from his mind to his lips but he didn’t succeed. He was too weak to reach out to her. He tried once more, again unsuccessfully, and then darkness consumed him.
ANGELA HEARD HER name the instant Scott pushed the door open to Jonah’s quarters. And just as quickly, she knew the sound was in her head. Jonah was calling to her with his mind, but this was different than their usual silent communication. This was more a deep, soul-stirring call, a feeling more than a sound. It was as if their spirits had bonded. She rushed to the coffin. Jonah was in the middle of another violent convulsion.
Scott stepped up beside her and put his hand to Jonah’s forehead. “I don’t like leaving you alone with him, but I need to go outside to wait for Dr. Penn. He’s not far from here and he needs me to let him inside.”
Angela waved him away with her hand. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.” With her other hand, she gently stroked Jonah’s cheek, her heart twisting with every convulsive jerk of his body. When she heard the click of the steel door behind her, it felt as though she and Jonah were inside a vault that not only kept the outside world away, but also kept them entombed in a world of their own. She ran her hand along Jonah’s rigid jaw line, clamped tight against the tremors that shook his body.
Once, when his lips moved as if he was calling her name, she lowered her mouth to h
is ear and reassured him she was at his side and would not leave him. Was it her imagination when she thought she saw him attempt a smile? Her heart clenched and tears stung her eyes. Human or vampire, he was suffering, and she was helpless to do anything to ease his pain. All she could do was stay by his side.
The waiting ended when Scott and a middle-aged, balding man with horn-rimmed glasses entered the room. She stepped aside quickly so Dr. Penn could have full access to Jonah. The doctor removed a stethoscope from his medical bag and turned back to Jonah.
Dr. Penn put the stethoscope to Jonah’s chest. He listened for a few seconds then straightened. He took a syringe from the bag, held it to the light for a second, then tapped it lightly with his fingertip. Then he proceeded to administer the drug. “This is a massive dose of a powerful antibiotic. We should see some results within a couple of hours.”
Angela looked at Jonah, whose body still twitched erratically. “A couple of hours? Can’t you help him faster than that?”
The doctor turned to her with a sympathetic look. “My dear, I’m sure you already know his life is not in danger. The only thing I can hope for is to stem the draining of his body’s natural resources as quickly as possible.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, I’ve done all I can.”
Dr. Penn took a plastic container from his bag, dropped the used syringe inside, and turned to Scott. “I’ll wait here for a time to be sure he has no reaction to the drug,” he said, lowering himself into a chair.
Within a few minutes, Angela noticed Jonah was breathing easier. She touched his forehead. It was warm, but not hot. He seemed better already, but she had seen him take a temporary upturn before. She continued to watch him cautiously.
She sensed a presence beside her. Dr. Penn stepped up and put the stethoscope to Jonah’s chest. “I think the crisis is over,” he said, nodding first in her direction, then in Scott’s. “I’d say in a matter of hours, if not sooner, he’ll be awake. As soon as he’s able, let him drink as much as he wants. After that, it’s simply a matter of waiting for his strength to return.”
“Any idea how long that might be?” Scott asked.
“I’d guess twenty-four hours at least. He’ll need his death sleep as usual. But when he wakes up, he should be greatly improved.”
Angela thanked him and turned back to Jonah.
“WHY DON’T YOU go back to your room and let me keep watch,” Scott said a few minutes later. She hadn’t heard him return from escorting Dr. Penn out of the house. She shook her head. “I want to be here when he wakes.”
“That may not be for hours, and possibly not at all tonight. And when he does, he could go almost immediately into his death sleep and not awaken until tomorrow night.”
“What time is it?”
“A few minutes before midnight.”
“I’ll stay, just in case.”
“As you wish.”
Scott left only to return seconds later. “You can’t stand here the rest of the night. Sit. You’ll still be close enough to reach out and touch him.”
She looked over her shoulder. Scott had carried the desk chair over to her. She sank down on it gratefully. She’d been on her feet for hours.
“I’ll wait with you,” Scott said as he walked across the room to the recliner.
She felt Jonah’s forehead. It was cool. She said a silent thank-you to whomever watched over him. She scooted the chair a few inches closer to the casket, grasped its edge, and rested her forehead on the back of her hand.
More relaxed than she’d been all night, Angela closed her eyes.
When she opened them, she was lying across Jonah’s bed and he was beside her. At first she was disoriented, then her memory slowly returned in bits and pieces.
She remembered Scott bringing her a chair so she could sit and still be close to Jonah. She remembered closing her eyes. And Jonah sleeping peacefully in the casket. But then he’d moved and sat up. And Scott had been beside her, guiding her to the bed. And then there was nothing.
Jonah gave her a weak, but uplifting smile. She reached out and touched his lips with her fingertips. “You’re better.”
He reached up, pressed her fingertips against his lips and kissed them.
“Not quite, my love. But I will be after my death sleep.” He looked around the room. “What time is it?”
“Six o’clock,” Scott said from the side of the bed where he’d stood unnoticed until now. He turned to Angela. “It’s time for you to leave so he can begin his death sleep and finish his healing.”
“I want to stay.”
“It would be best if you didn’t. You need your rest as well.”
“He’s right,” Jonah whispered, his voice weak, a sign that his energy was ebbing. “We’ll be together again tonight.”
Scott offered his hand to help her up. “I’ll escort you to your room.”
She took Scott’s hand and sat up slowly. “I can make it alone. You stay here with Jonah.” She leaned over and kissed Jonah’s forehead, elated to feel cool, moist skin. She turned to Scott. “Let me know the minute he’s awake.”
“I’ll be there to let you know, myself, my love. I promise.”
She didn’t want to leave, but she knew there wasn’t anything she could do for him. His death sleep was the medicine he needed. And if she wanted to spend the entire night with him when he awoke, she needed her rest too.
Chapter Thirteen
ANGELA AWOKE Friday morning feeling as though she had been through an emotional wringer. Her first thought was of Jonah and her hand flew to her chest. She couldn’t wait until tonight to find out if he had fully recovered. She needed to know now.
She lifted her arm and checked the copper watch. It was a few minutes after eleven. She didn’t know Scott’s daily routine, but it was likely he was still in the house. Surely he would not have left Jonah without knowing if he was on the mend. Of course, he did have business to attend to. She got out of bed and went to the dresser for her cell phone. She dialed Scott’s number. No answer.
She forced herself to be calm and think logically. Scott was either still with Jonah, or taking care of business, which would mean Jonah was doing fine on his own. She had to believe that if Jonah had taken a turn for the worse, Scott would have come for her. She felt better, but only for a second. She wouldn’t be able to relax until she saw for herself that Jonah was okay.
After she showered and dressed, she headed for the kitchen as she did every morning. There was a half pot of coffee, still hot, on the counter. Scott had obviously been in the kitchen not too long ago. She poured herself a cup of coffee and went looking for him. She found him in the living room removing Christmas ornaments from the tree. He turned when she entered.
“Good morning. I was hoping you’d sleep a little longer.”
Bypassing Scott’s cordial greeting, she went directly to the questions that were uppermost in her mind. “How’s Jonah? Have you checked on him yet this morning?”
Scott finished wrapping one of the glass icicle ornaments in tissue and set it in a box on a nearby chair. “I stayed with him for an hour after you left. I explained to him what had made him ill and when I left, he was sleeping peacefully.”
“But suppose he—”
“He’ll be fine, trust me.” Scott reached for another ornament. “If you’re up to it, I could use some help with these.”
She placed the cup on the coffee table, walked over to the tree, and lifted an ornament from a branch. “Of course I’ll help.”
She suspected Scott’s request had more to do with taking her mind off Jonah than needing her help. “I admired these ornaments the first day I arrived,” she said, lifting one of the round glass globes from the tree. “These are particularly beautiful,” she added, holding up the decoration.
“Those particular ornaments, or kugels, as t
hey are called, were imported from Germany in the late 1800s. Eventually, they replaced the homemade ornaments that had always decorated Victorian Christmas trees.” Scott wrapped a piece of tissue paper around the globe he had just taken from the tree.
Angela placed her tissue-wrapped ornament in the nearly filled box. “Did you celebrate Christmas with Jonah’s family?”
“Not the very early ones. I didn’t join the family until the triplets began their transformation.”
Jonah had told her his transformation hadn’t started until his eighteenth birthday, which she now knew to be over a century ago. And here she was, having a conversation with someone who had been part of his world. A world that until two weeks ago, had only existed in fiction. It struck her suddenly that she had no idea of Scott’s age. She was dying to know, but couldn’t bring herself to ask.
They worked steadily for the next hour. At her request, Scott described what life was like in the Whitcombe household over a hundred years ago.
“Then I guess that makes Jonah a true Victorian gentleman,” Angela remarked as he placed the last of the ornaments in the box.
“Yes, I suppose he is.”
She was about to mention something she’d forgotten during their conversation when the landline telephone rang.
After Scott left to answer the phone, Angela checked the tree to be sure nothing had been missed, then folded the few remaining pieces of tissue and put them in the box with the ornaments. She had just placed the lid on the box when Scott returned. She knew from the look on his face that whatever the caller told him wasn’t something he’d wanted to hear.
“The audition’s been postponed yet again,” Scott said on his way back to the tree where he began unwinding the strings of red and green light bulbs.
The news hit her like a kick to the chest. “Oh, no. Why?”
“It seems the damage was worse than anyone first thought. The repairs may take longer than they expected.”
She tried to look on the bright side. “Well, that isn’t too bad, is it? It will give Jonah a few extra days to recuperate.”
The Vampire Jonah Page 14
