The morning following Roman’s humiliating rejection, Grace slept in. No classes or lab. No alarm clock. No ringing phone. She set her cell on vibrate. Whoever kept calling her caused the pesky thing to clatter and dance across the top of her coffee table. Frustrated, she grabbed the little noisemaker and slid it across the carpeted floor and into the wall. She wasn’t in the mood to speak with anyone. Not Deanna. Not her mom. Not Jennifer. And especially not Roman.
Engaging Deanna in conversation would only bring up the subject of Roman and she didn’t want to hear her friend’s interrogation. If her mom called, she’d have to listen to her wail about Jake and forgiveness and shit like that, not to mention her dad’s disappointment about the wedding he wouldn’t be officiating. Jennifer would only gush about Mark.
And Roman? She buried her face in the pillow and punched the mattress with both fists. What a fool she’d been. An angry tear escaped. Never again. Jake didn’t want her. And with one roadblock after another standing in the way of Roman and her getting together, it seemed like that romance was going nowhere—fast! Or was something else stopping him from having sex? God knows I was willing. Was he married? Gay? Impotent? She gritted her teeth and growled into the pillow.
Perhaps she’d become a nun.
Sunlight peeked into her apartment between slats of half-closed blinds. Opening the blinds all the way would only invite sunshine in and she wasn’t in the mood for happy. She pushed herself into a sitting position and dangled her feet over the edge of the bed. Staring at nothing in particular, she let out an exasperated sigh and kicked her pink slippers across the room and into the front door. “Crap!”
She shuffled into the kitchenette and glanced at the coffee maker without brewing a cup. Her cell phone buzzed, but she didn’t care enough to check caller ID. “Double Crap!”
Opting for a shower instead, she lumbered into the bathroom and slipped out of her oversized Dodgers T-shirt. She reached inside the shower stall, turned on the water, and adjusted the temperature and stepped inside. The pulsating spray beating on her back and neck proved to be the perfect medicine. A few minutes later, she stepped out of the shower—refreshed. She turned off the water, wrapped herself in a soft, pink bathrobe, and wound a towel around her hair.
Returning to her living room, she turned on the television and settled on a baseball game. Emotionally spent, she collapsed on the daybed. But in case sleep came, she set her alarm for five o’clock to give herself time to get ready for tonight’s shift.
Hopefully, Roman wouldn’t show up. And considering how he’d stormed out of her bed the last time she saw him, she doubted he had the balls to make an appearance at the club. Damn him.
Doc
Since discovering problems with the formula, Doc grew concerned about the team losing their vampire strength and healing capability. Something needed to be done quickly. Doc scheduled a much needed meeting with Crawford, and to better explain the escalating crisis, he invited Roman to accompany him.
On his way to the meeting, he met Roman in the hallway. “I hope you’re prepared for a confrontation. Crawford’s not going to like the reason for the meeting.”
Roman chuckled. “Guess there’s no easy way to tell him the project’s fucked up.”
Arriving at Crawford’s office, they were met by an open door.
As the approached the doorway, Crawford looked up from a stack of papers on his desk. “Come in,” he said and adjusted his striped tie. He pointed at two chairs across the desk from where he sat. “Have a seat.”
They accepted the offer and lowered themselves onto the tan, leather chairs.
Crawford eyed Roman suspiciously and glanced at Doc. “Why is Roman here?”
“I asked him to come along. He’s better able to describe what’s been happening to his team.”
Shifting in his chair, Crawford faced Roman. “I understand you were injured during a mission. Exactly what happened?”
Roman straightened in his chair and squared his shoulders. “According to our agreement, I’m forbidden to reveal details of my work for the Elder Council.”
Crawford tented his fingers on the desk. “Oh, I disagree. We’re supposed to be partners.”
Fearing Roman would answer confrontationally, Doc held up his hand to let him know that he’d respond. “Concerning the project at the lab? Yes. But, I agree with Roman. As I understand the contract, Roman’s team is a covert group. Revealing details of what they do, or where, must not be shared.”
Crawford’s narrow-eyed gaze swung to Roman. “But I’m entitled—”
“Unfortunately, you are not,” Roman answered. “The arrangement between the institute and the Elder Council only requires that both organizations have knowledge of each other. Our team needed permission to begin this program and you needed to know why we disappeared from time to time. Anything beyond that is off limits.
Suddenly, Crawford’s motive became clear: Knowledge is power and his boss wanted it all. Doc made a mental note to remind Roman to be more careful what’s said with his supervisor within earshot.
“I couldn’t disagree more,” Crawford snapped.
Doc shook his head. “Something’s gone terribly wrong with the formula and it would be best if you heard directly from Roman about unintended consequences he and his team are experiencing.” He nodded at Roman.
Leaning back in his chair, Crawford motioned for Roman to continue. “So tell me what’s going on.”
“I’ll show you instead.” Roman stood. He pulled his black T-shirt over his head and handed it to Doc. He ran his index finger along the length of the scar across this chest. “It’s a surface wound that should be gone by now, or at the very least, barely noticeable.” He pointed to his forearm. “An unhealed wound.” He opened his hand to reveal his scarred palm. “And another.”
Doc considered bringing up the fact that Gabriel’s stab wound hadn’t completely healed either, but for now, he decided to keep that information to himself.
Crawford whistled out a breath, obviously surprised. He slid his glasses down from the top of his head and wound around his desk. Eyes narrowing, he stood in front of Roman, scrutinized each scar, then winced and stepped back.
Doc handed Roman his T-shirt. “It was my understanding that the men wouldn’t lose any of their strength or healing ability during the transformation. Now it seems both have been compromised.”
“How are you planning to fix this?” Roman asked, and pulled on his shirt
“Apparently becoming human has its drawbacks. We’ll need to run additional tests to—”
“Not good enough,” Roman snapped. “We need this fixed now. What happens if we’re dispatched to intercept slayers heading our way? This poses a serious problem for us.”
Crawford returned to his side of the desk and eased himself into his chair. He rubbed his temples. “Yes. We’ll start tomorrow.”
“Roman balled his hands into fists. “You either start working on the problem now—today—or we walk.”
“Acting in such a drastic manner could be dangerous…even fatal for your team,” Crawford argued.
Roman’s nostrils flared.
Fearing a volatile confrontation, Doc clenched his teeth and shook his head, signaling Roman to calm down, only to be soundly ignored.
“You mean, fatal for you, if you don’t fix this—now,” Roman argued.
A scowl settled on Crawford’s face and he sucked in a deep breath. “Think back to when we met. You approached us. We—Doc and I—were reluctant to take on the project, but you convinced us to help your vampires.” His shouted. “At that time, we explained there would be risks.” The doctor’s face reddened. “We warned you, Roman. Didn’t we Doc? We warned you.”
Doc nodded.
Veins stood out on Roman’s forehead as he reached across the desk, grabbed Crawford by the lapels on his white lab coat, and dragged him over the desktop until they were nose to nose.
“Are you challenging me?” Roman’s eyes went wide and he let out a low, menacing growl.
“That’s enough, Roman,” Doc jumped to his feet, trying to regain control of the vampire.
Roman snarled, dropped the doctor on his desk, stormed out of his office, and slammed the door.
Crawford pushed himself from the desk. Back on his feet, he straightened his lab coat and adjusted his tie.
“I apologize for Roman’s behavior, but surely you can understand his frustration… It may have made a mistake to bring him along.”
“I agree. Now get the hell out of my office and never bring him in here again.”
Doc made a hasty exit. He drew back in surprise at seeing Roman waiting for him in the hallway.
“That was a stupid stunt you just pulled. I would expect such behavior from Gabriel, but not you. Good God,” he said, running his hand over his head, “what the hell were you thinking?”