SEVERAL MINUTES PASSED as she lay there with him until her tears began to subside. She sat up and wiped at her face and nose with tissues from a box on the tray table, listening to the machines in the room. She was trying to pull herself together when she thought she heard what sounded like a low humming. She waited, continuing to listen until she heard it again. It sounded like something vibrating on a hard surface. Looking over at the side table, she saw nothing that would account for the noise, but upon hearing it again, she pulled open the shallow drawer below the table top. Looking inside, she saw a small mobile phone. She didn’t recognize it as Ramsey’s or anyone else’s. It buzzed again. She considered whether it could belong to a nurse or a doctor, but she knew that made no sense. Something told her to pick it up, and she reached for it. She hit the button on the front and the screen lit up, informing her that there was an incoming text message. Unsure of what to do, she almost put it back down, but choosing not to, she opened the message. The screen changed, and she sucked in a breath when she read the display.
“Touching.”
Her mind tried to make sense of the message, but before she could think it through, the phone buzzed again in her hand and another message came through.
“I have what he needs.”
Her breath caught. She looked over at Ramsey. Who was this?
As if reading her mind, the phone buzzed again.
“You know who I am.”
Her stomach tightened as she began to suspect the identity of the sender. Y. Her heart raced, and her hair stood on end. She debated whether or not to find Leroy and Declan when the phone buzzed again.
“If you want what he needs, then you must come and get it.”
She gripped the phone. The only thing that would save Ramsey was the serum. Had Y found the serum? A small flicker of hope blossomed. Could he save Ramsey?
Another message followed.
“There’s a black car with a driver at the front entrance. Get in it. Tell no one and come alone.”
Her mind buzzed, and she wondered what to do. Could she trust this man? The man who put Ramsey in the hospital in the first place? Intuitively, she knew the answer was no. The phone buzzed again.
“The car leaves in five minutes. Once it’s gone, your choice is made. Ramsey’s life is in your hands.”
The last words moved her into action. She didn’t have a choice. If there was a chance Y told the truth, she had to try. If it meant sacrificing herself to do it, then she would. She moved off the bed, careful not to disturb Ramsey, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Hang in there,” she whispered, feeling her emotions well up again. “I’m going to get you what you need. Please just stay alive.”
Giving him one last look, she opened the door and left, heading to the elevators. She never looked in the direction of the family room.
Seeing Sarah, Leroy watched her walk away. Hannah saw her, too. From behind Leroy, Declan said, “Where’s she going?”
Sarah hit the elevator button, wiping at her red face and nose with her sleeve while she waited, never looking their way.
“Give her some time,” said Leroy. “She needs to be alone for a while.”
The elevator arrived and the doors opened. Sarah got in and, doors closing, disappeared from sight.
Down in the lobby, she headed for the front entrance. As expected, a sleek black car with a driver sat out front. She approached it.
The driver looked at her and leaned out his open window. “You Sarah?”
She nodded her head.
“You comin’?” he asked.
Hesitating only for a moment, she opened the back door and got in. The driver pulled away and left the hospital grounds.
They drove for an hour, the driver saying nothing. She recognized little as they moved further and further away from the city. Her mind preoccupied, she paid little attention to where they were headed. Her thoughts remained on keeping Ramsey alive, and she prayed that Y told the truth, that he had what Ramsey needed. She didn’t think about what she might have to do to get it, but whatever it was, she knew she would do it.
She began to pay more attention when they left the highway and drove into a suburban neighborhood. Darkness had fallen, and the houses they passed were now lighted. She saw opulent gates at driveway entrances and knew they were in an upscale community. Large-trunked trees and high walls encircled wide-spread and well-maintained lots.
Finally, they pulled into a driveway with its own private gate and protected enclosure. As the driver approached, the gate opened, and they drove in. They followed the long entrance up to the front of the house, and Sarah could see the perfectly manicured front lawn, rounded shrubs which bordered the driveway, white flowers well placed among prominent statues, and tall, willowy trees. As they made their way to the entrance, an enormous water fountain with cherubs and angels locked in a wet embrace greeted them.
The driver pulled up and stopped, saying nothing. Sarah opened the door. Getting out, she gazed up at the façade of the house. Even in the dark, it looked palatial. It stood two stories and had a Spanish influence, with stucco walls and a tiled roof. Gray pavestone led the way up a set of stairs that carried her eye to the two huge carved wooden front doors, each with a large flowering potted plant on either side. After closing the door, Sarah watched the car drive off and head toward the garages.
She gathered her courage before finally walking up the stairs. Reaching the doors, she rang the bell, hearing the chimes from inside as they rang.
A few seconds passed, and she heard the unlatching of the lock. The doorknob turned and the door opened.
A small man greeted her wearing black pants, a white shirt, and a black vest. He could not have been more than five foot three or four, and he had slicked black hair and a small mustache and goatee. “Please come in,” he said. “You must be Sarah.”
Walking inside, she tried to stay calm, and she took a deep breath to make herself relax. “Yes,” she said.
“My name is Julian. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Hello,” she said, standing in the foyer of the house.
It was immense. A grand staircase welcomed her, and she followed its beautifully carved wooden handrail all the way to the second floor, where several rooms surrounded the railing above. Downstairs, hardwood floors covered with large oriental and Indian rugs and white leather furniture with glass furnishings adorned the interior. Massive pictures of mainly contemporary scenes framed the walls. She stared as she took it all in, unable to help but admire the beauty of the house. Heavy sea-green curtains were pulled closed over what she imagined were large windows looking out over what was likely a massive courtyard and backyard, if the size of the other estates they’d passed on the way were any indication.
A voice from above startled her out of her observations.
“Hello, Sarah.” She looked to see Y, who’d appeared out of nowhere, leaning against the second-floor railing, “Thank you, Julian,” he said to the man beside her.
Julian retreated from the room, leaving Sarah alone in the foyer as Y made his way down the stairs. He was dressed casually in relaxed dark jeans and a brown long-sleeved cotton shirt, his trim waist enhanced by the clothes. He wore no shoes. His tan face smiled easily as he neared, as if he was disembarking from a cruise ship. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he walked up to her. She instinctively stepped back, but he kept walking and passed her.
“Hungry?” he asked before heading down a hallway and turning a corner.
Following with reluctance, she turned the same corner and found herself in an ornate kitchen with granite countertops, marble floors, a large gas stove, and an oversized refrigerator. An elegant glass breakfast table with an elaborate flowered centerpiece took center stage in the large room.
She saw him at the refrigerator with the door open. “I took the liberty of ordering out tonight. I got us a salad and chicken parmesan from the Italian place down the street. It’s their specialty.” He took the salad out of the fridge and put the main dish, which had been sitting on the counter, in the oven. “It needs a warm-up. It won’t take long.”
After setting the timer, he picked up an uncorked bottle of wine from the kitchen counter. “I took the liberty of choosing a wine. It should go well with the meal.” He opened a cabinet and took out two large-mouthed crystal wineglasses and placed them on the counter.
She stared as he moved around the kitchen. “What are you doing?” she asked.
Looking over at her, he smiled. “I know you haven’t eaten much lately, and I suspect you’ve had no dinner.” He poured the wine. “Just thought you should eat something.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “This isn’t a date.”
Finished pouring, he held the second glass and put the bottle down. He picked up the other filled glass. “It’s not a date, Sarah,” he said. “But if you expect me to save your boyfriend’s life, the least you could do is have dinner with me.”
Holding his gaze, she realized that she was not in a position to decline his invitation. Despite her nervousness, she crossed her arms in front of her and answered him. “I agree to have dinner with you, and you give me what he needs?”
Leaning against the counter, Y rested one ankle over the other. “You impress me, Sarah, standing there as if you have a choice.”
“I do have a choice.” She hated that he was right, but she didn’t want to show it.
“And what is it?”
They both stood as he waited for her answer.
Irritated that she’d have to waste time with him instead of rushing back to the hospital, she agreed. “I’ll give you an hour.”
Seemingly pleased by her answer, he reached out to hand her a glass, and stepping forward, she reluctantly took it.
“Have a seat,” he said. “Get comfortable.”
She felt guilty standing there holding a glass of wine while she knew Ramsey lay dying in a hospital bed. Deciding she could withstand this for sixty minutes, she went to sit at the breakfast table.
Carrying his glass, he went to join her, choosing to sit across from her. “Cheers,” he said, holding up his wine.
Swallowing hard but going along with the charade, she lifted her glass and clinked it against his. He took a sip, and she did as well, barely tasting the wine.
“Relax,” he said, sensing her impatience. “There’s plenty of time. He’s got at least twenty-four hours, probably closer to forty-eight.” He took another sip of his wine. “Not bad, if I do say so myself.” He stared at Sarah. “Do you like it?”
She tried not to react to his cavalier attitude to Ramsey’s declining health. “I don’t know much about wine.”
“Neither do I. Julian buys all of it. He supposedly knows what he’s doing.”
Restless, she put her glass down. She found an ornamental clock on the wall and noted the time.
Noticing her preoccupation, he set his wine glass down, too. “You want what I have for him?” he asked. “Will that help you loosen up?”
She whipped her gaze to his. “You have it?”
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t lie to you, Sarah.”
“But you’d stab a defenseless man instead?” She couldn’t help herself as she thought of Ramsey fighting to survive.
“I’d hardly call him defenseless. Besides, that was between us. It had nothing to do with you.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“And how is it that it’s okay he killed my brother?”
“Your brother was going to kill him and Declan.”
“If you’d done as they’d asked, that all could have been avoided.”
“They were there to kidnap me.”
“Sarah, do you honestly believe that the best place for you is with him?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“No, I’m not. Everything that has happened stems from what occurred the day they came to take you.” He studied her with a measured glance. “So I’ll ask again. Do you believe he’s what’s best for you?”
She didn’t know how to handle this conversation, realizing that whatever she said would matter little. But having no other choice, she answered him. “Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yes. Why? What does he have to offer you?”
“I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
“You don’t know, do you?”
“What?”
“You can’t tell me what he offers you, can you?”
“He offers me everything.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
Her anger began to build, and for the first time, she felt the energy churn inside her without the presence of the others.
Reading her, his expression changed. “You see that? You don’t need any of them anymore, Sarah. You are already able to do what you were meant to do without their help. The only reason you’re attached to any of them is because they got to you first. If I had been the one to help you through your Shift, you’d be in love with me right now.”
His arrogance stunned her. “You’re not serious, are you?”
“Of course I am.” He sat forward in his chair. “Think about it, Sarah. You’re a Red-Line. I’m a Red-Line. We are ideally suited for each other. I was raised as one. I could teach you things you have no current understanding of, but which would amaze you. What exactly is it that you think Ramsey could teach you? How to help some hapless Gray through their Shift? You were meant for greater things, my dear. You were meant for me.”
His own energy magnified, and she could feel it from across the table. Something about him made her want to pull away, and if she could have left, she would have. But she knew she had to finish this farce of a dinner in order to get what she needed.
“I’m not a doll, Yates. I don’t just fall for any man that comes my way.”
A smug look crossed his face. “You remember my name.”
“I remember you from the coffee shop. I’m not mentally challenged.”
Smiling, he said, “No, you are not. Except maybe when it comes to that Protector of yours.”
She set her jaw. “You know, if you went after Ramsey for your brother, you ought to come after me as well.”
“Why is that?”
“Because it’s my fault that your other brother is dead. I threw him against a brick wall.”
He’d picked up his wineglass again, pausing before taking a sip. “That’s different.”
“Is it?”
“You were defending yourself, using powers you’d never used before. It’s not surprising you lacked control.”
“Who says I lacked control?”
He stared at her as he considered his response.
The intensity of the conversation was interrupted by the buzz of the timer. Shrugging off his mood, Y put down his wineglass and got up from the table. Needing to do something with her nervous energy, Sarah took another sip of her drink, wishing it was a glass of water.
Y pulled out the dish, placed it on the counter, and split out two servings, each on its own plate. He grabbed silverware and napkins and brought them to the table with the salad. He turned back to pick up both plates and then brought them over before handing one to Sarah. “Dig in,” he said. “Dinner’s served.”
Taking the plate from him, she was careful to avoid contact, remembering their previous encounter when he’d taken her hand and lightly grazed it with his thumb. Picking up her napkin and placing it in her lap, she tried to look interested. She didn’t know how she was going to eat, since she felt no hunger at all.
Y picked up the salad tongs and served her some salad before getting some for himself. Then he sat and took his fork and cut into his food. He watched as she left her food untouched.
“You should eat something if you want to keep your strength up. You don’t want to collapse as soon as you come to his rescue.” He lifted his fork and took a bite.
Refusing to take the bait, she didn’t answer him, but she did pick up her silverware and force herself to eat. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel sick when she started chewing. In fact, it was as if her system kicked into gear and she suddenly felt ravenous. She had indeed eaten little since Ramsey’s convalescence, and now her body told her she’d neglected it for too long.
Y enjoyed her reaction to the food, and they sat quietly as they continued to eat and drink. The alcohol started to relax her, and she found herself sitting back further in her seat, without the coiled tension she’d previously held.
“Feel better?” asked Y.
She did, although she wouldn’t admit it. Avoiding the question, she asked, “So where is it?”
Knowing what she referred to, he didn’t let it bother him. “In due time, Sarah. Enjoy your meal.”
The next several minutes were spent in relative silence while they both finished dinner. Thinking of Ramsey as she ate, she told herself that what she was doing was only a means to an end. If this was all it would take to get him whatever it was Y had, then it was a small price to pay.
“So,” Y said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “want more?”
She’d eaten most of what was on her plate and finished most of her wine. “I’ve had plenty,” she replied.
“Good.” He put down his napkin and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “Then let’s discuss our options.”
She didn’t know what he meant. “Options?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean? I thought we agreed. I have dinner with you and you give me the serum, assuming that’s what you have.”
“I said the least you could do was have dinner. I didn’t say that was all I wanted.”
She didn’t like where this was leading. “So you want something else?”
“Yes, I do. I’m giving you Ramsey’s life back. And considering my dislike for the man, I consider that to be a large gesture on my part.”
“Considering you’re the one who did this to him, it’s the least you could do.”
“He had it coming. But my interest is not in him, it’s in you.”
Shifting in her seat, she felt a chill run through her. “What do you want?”
“I want you to stay here with me.”
Her eyes widened. ”You’re kidding.”
“I am not.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I don’t want to stay with you. I don’t belong here.”
“Hear me out, Sarah, before you decide.”
“It won’t matter what you say. I’m not changing my mind.”
“Again, hear me out, please.”
She sat nervously and sighed, determined to get through this. “I’m listening.”
“Thank you.” He got up and grabbed the bottle of wine. After sitting back down, he leaned forward and refilled Sarah’s glass.
She started to object but thought better of it. Maybe if she could keep him drinking, she could get out of there sooner. As soon as she had the thought, though, she realized it could also make things worse. She stopped her mind from going down that road as he refilled his own glass.
“First of all, I think you should know that I have only your best interests at heart. I have no intention to force you to do anything. If after this conversation you wish to leave, you can. If and when you decide to be with me, you’ll do it voluntarily, without provocation from me.”
His words calmed her. She’d panicked when she considered what she would do if he held Ramsey’s life as a bargaining chip for her compliance.
“But I want you to consider the possibility of living here.”
“I don’t—” she started to interrupt.
“Let me finish.”
She stopped, telling herself that she only had a short time left with him, and if she let him talk, the sooner it would be over.
“Okay,” he said, satisfied that she was listening. “As I said earlier, you and I are both Red-Lines. We have equal potential. Did you know that Red-Lines rarely mated with Grays? At least not until the very end. There’s a reason why, Sarah. Because they weren’t meant to. We are unique. Together, we could start over. We could take our place among the Council, become the leaders we were meant to be. Perhaps even make contact with our host planet, reestablish communication and travel back there once again. You do know that Reds were the link between this world and our home?”
“This is my home,” she said.
“That’s beside the point. You and I have options, Sarah. The world is our oyster.”
“So this is a power trip for you?’
Ignoring her question, he kept talking. “What I’m trying to say is that Ramsey can offer you none of that. Yes, you may have some lingering attachment to him right now, but that won’t last forever. After a while, you’ll get bored. Besides, with the Grays on the way out, it won’t be long until it will be just you and me, all on our own.”
“Not if I can read that mirror and find that serum.”
He laughed. “You don’t honestly buy that load of crap, do you? That some mysterious mirror holds the key to their survival?”
“Why not?”
“Number one, the odds of you actually reading it are slim to none. Secondly, the likelihood of there being any serum to find is also close to nothing.”
“There was serum on that ship.”
“No, there was cargo on that ship. Nobody knows what that cargo was. For all they know, they’re looking for a crate of Eudoran animal crackers.”
“You don’t know that there wasn’t serum on that ship.”
“And you don’t know that there was.”
“I’m still going to try.”
“Let me give you another option.”
“What other option?”
“You give my idea a chance. You stay here with me. I’ll give you everything you need. Your own private room. You can come and go as you please. Visit your friends and your aunt. Go back to work for the bookstore. I don’t care. Just give me a chance to work with you. Show you what’s possible. And if you insist on reading that mirror, then read it. I have no investment in the matter. If you find the serum, hooray for you. If you don’t, then so be it. At least you know you tried. But even if all your newfound friends die, you won’t be alone. You’ll be with me. It’s a far cry from having nothing. It would be absurd to watch them die and for us to be the last two standing and never speak to each other.”
Despite his logic, she couldn’t even consider the thought of living with him. Somewhere under his layers of charm, she could feel a darkness, and if she pushed in the right spots, she suspected she would find it. She decided to see how far she could go.
“I acknowledge that you make a few good points.”
“I make several good points, but thank you for at least conceding a few.”
“But I have some questions.”
He set down his wineglass. “Fire away.”
Holding her wine, she held back from drinking more. She needed a clear head to deal with this man. “Where exactly do you come from? You obviously know my background, but I know nothing of yours.”
Fingering the lip of his wineglass, he considered her question. “I am much like you, Sarah. A product of many years of genetic testing. My ‘father,’ for lack of a better term, was Arnuff, one of the last two Red-Lines to survive. He and Emerson, as the last two remaining Reds, took it upon themselves to embark on their own line of testing, outside of that done by the Council.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because, my dear, they were not the innocent men they made themselves out to be.”
“What were they?”
”Outcasts might be a more accurate term.”
“What do you mean?”
”They were part of a small group of Red-Lines intent on eradicating the Grays.”
“What? Why would they do that?”
“How should I know, and why should I care? It was sixty years ago.”
“But there must have been a reason.”
“Of course they had a reason. But it is not something they shared with me. All I know is whatever plan they had backfired, and somehow they ended up killing the Reds instead.” Snickering, he swirled the wine in his glass. “Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
Sarah couldn’t help herself. “You should keep that in mind.”
He raised his glass and looked up at her over the rim. “My conscience is clear.”
She decided to leave that subject alone for now. ”And how does this secret involvement in destroying the Grays lead to you?”
“When it became apparent that the Council was getting closer to genetic success, they feared that if a new Red-Line were born, he or she would be a threat to them.”
“How?”
“I suspect they were worried that the mirror contains information that may lead to the revelation of whatever plot they were involved in. My guess is that ship went down for more reasons than any of us know. By creating me and my brothers, they maintain the upper hand, or at least an even hand if they are discovered. Or at least that was their theory.” He paused as if thinking about something. “We were born two years before you. Problem was they didn’t take into consideration what to do with us once they succeeded. After we arrived, they kept us in hiding. Their only contribution to us other than their DNA was to train us as we grew up, to prepare us for some supposed takeover.” He took another sip of wine, not hiding his sensitivity to the subject.
“Who raised you?”
“The only person I would even come close to calling a father.”
“Who is that?”
“Eddie.”
“Eddie?”
“Edward. The man whose knowledge of genetics is the reason I sit before you today. His experiments resulted in the birth of triplets. Me, Xavier, and Zane. Or rather, X, Y, and Z.” His fingers tightened on his glass. “Arnuff named us letters, as if we were test tubes. He called us that until his demise.”
His anger blossomed, and she began to suspect that Arnuff’s death was no accident.
“You’re the middle child?” she asked, surprised.
He chuckled. “Actually, no. I was born first.”
“They why are you ‘Y’?”
“I asked the same question. Apparently birth order was not a consideration when it came to naming us.” He stared off. “Fools.”
“Who chose Xavier, Yates and Zane?”
“We chose them ourselves.”
“You chose your own names?”
He nodded in reply.
Curious, she asked, “Why did you choose Yates?”
Looking serious, he said, “It means gatekeeper. I found it to be fitting.” He managed to pull himself out of the intensity of his thoughts, and the room’s energy lifted. “Anyway, after they learned about the Council’s success in conceiving you, they began to wonder what your existence might mean for them. And for us.”
“They were threatened by me?”
“They certainly were. They wanted to kill you.”
She didn’t hide her surprise. “Why? What could I do to hurt them?”
“You’re a female Red-Line, just as capable as them if not more so. You risked exposing them if you read the mirror. But even if you didn’t, you were still a threat.”
“Why? I was a child. Nobody expected me to survive.”
“When it was obvious you would survive, they had to prepare for the worst.”
“What do you mean?”
“As the two remaining Reds, they were expected to participate in your…” He paused, looking for the word. “…assimilation.”
“My what?”
“The Grays left you alone as you grew up, but as you got older and it was clear that you would go through your Shift, the Council looked to Arnuff and Emerson to assist in your transition. Problem was Arnuff and Emerson couldn’t.”
“Why not?’
“Because, as you realize by now, a Red-Line Shifter is highly volatile, highly sensitive, and highly intuitive, especially females. One look at them, and you could have read them like a book. They had to stay away.” He stared at his wine. “They made up some excuse about remembering nothing and being too frail to assist. That meddlesome hag, Morgana, insisted on assigning Ramsey.” He sat tensely at the table as she stayed silent. “You can imagine my disappointment.” Looking up, he met her eyes, pausing as he shook off his memories. “By the time I realized what was happening, I had to take matters into my own hands.”
A shudder ran through her when she thought about where she might be right now if Ramsey had not been assigned as her Protector. She had to ask the logical question. “Why didn’t they kill me?
“I’m sure they secretly hoped that by staying away, you wouldn’t survive your Shift.” He gripped his glass. “I decided otherwise.” Another wave of animosity rose from him.
“They could have killed me before my Shift.”
His eyes found hers again. “We asked them not to.”
“Why?”
“Because you offered us the one thing they couldn’t.”
“Which is?”
“A continuation of our line, Sarah.”
She realized the implications of what he meant and a sliver of cold traveled up her spine. “You mean…”
He watched her react with displeasure. “Yes, that’s what I mean. Children.”
She didn’t know what to say. “What, did you think I’d just willingly be your baby factory?”
His lips turned up in amusement. “Don’t be so dramatic. Of course not. If we had planned it properly and my brothers had not been idiots…” He stared off before looking back. “Well, I believe things would have worked out differently for both of us.”
She didn’t want to know what he meant and she didn’t ask, but one obvious question came to mind. “But how do you know I’m not your sister?”
“You’re not. You are the daughter of Emerson. We are the children of Arnuff.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Wasn’t hard to figure out. Once we learned who you were, they got a hold of a DNA sample. Probably took hair from a hairbrush or bumped against you at school and got a blood sample. Simple to do.”
“And I’m Emerson’s daughter?”
“You are. Good thing, too.”
“Why?”
“Otherwise you’d likely be dead.”
She paled as she considered that, but she kept up the questions, wanting to know more about X and Z. “Your brothers,” she said. “Were they Reds?”
“No. They were different. We were triplets, all born together. They were identical, but I was not. They had a combination of both Red and Gray DNA, so they were not complete Red-Lines, but they came with formidable abilities. Unfortunately, their uniqueness also made them unstable.”
“Unstable?”
“Yes. They had violent mood swings and outbursts of aggression. They could be hard to handle.”
Knowing what she knew of them, she believed that. “And you?”
“One hundred percent Red-Line, through and through. They learned the hard way to listen to me.”
“It was you who kept them under control?”
“When they needed a firm hand, I could provide it.”
“And Edward? How is it that he took care of you?”
“Our mother died in childbirth. Emerson and Arnuff, keeping up the pretense of being decent, rule-following Council members, rarely saw us except for training purposes. Edward stayed on, raising us.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“All over the world. We rarely stayed in one place for long. They were terrified we would be discovered, and thus they would be discovered.”
“And what was your purpose?”
“Ultimately?”
“Yes.”
“To take up where they left off. They knew the Grays would die eventually, just as the Reds did. What better way to take over when you have three sons to take your place?”
“But take over what? With the Grays dead, what’s left?”
“You have to think bigger than that, Sarah. The only thing that remains.”
“What’s that?”
“Humans, of course.”
She blinked, not sure she understood. “Humans?”
“Yes.” He took another sip of wine, as if they discussed who’d won the local high-school football game.
“They wanted to take over humans, as in the human race? But what about the big Eudoran thing about not revealing themselves?”
“Consider them rule-breakers.”
“But why?”
“With the Grays dead, they would be all that’s left. They didn’t plan on retiring to Florida.”
“But they were in their eighties. They weren’t going to live forever.”
“Unbeknownst to their fellow Council members, their life expectancy was quite good until recent circumstances changed that.” He smiled as he finished his wine.
“It was?” she asked, choosing to not inquire about his involvement in their destruction. “Why? Because they were Reds?’
“Because they were Reds with serum.”
“But I thought the serum was gone.”
“Not all of it.”
Now she knew her suspicions were correct. Y had more serum. Mustering all her strength, she fought not to react with the anticipation that she might receive some. “What do you mean?” she asked.
He shifted forward. “Do you really think that those two survived the death of the Reds just on virility alone?”
“Isn’t that what everyone believes?”
“Then they’re bigger idiots than even I have imagined. Those two trusted no one. They had enough serum stockpiled to last them decades, which it has. It will last a few more decades, too, if I plan it right.”
His revelation stunned her. “If they don’t need it anymore, than why not share it? What do you need it for?”
“They’re not the only ones who need the serum. My brothers and I didn’t survive on bread alone.”
His answer confirmed her suspicions. “You need it, too?”
“Of course. I don’t have the benefit of human DNA to protect me.” Pushing his empty glass aside, he sat back and asked the question he knew she wanted the answer to. “Which brings us full circle. Now that you know I have what you want, will I give it to you?”
Not knowing if he expected her to respond, she said nothing. She waited for him to answer, unknowingly holding her breath.
He looked at her glass. “You haven’t finished your wine.”
“I’ve had enough.”
“Have you considered my proposal?”
“To live with you?”
“Yes.”
“I have, and I can’t.” Sarah waited, wondering if her honesty would prevent him from giving her what she came for. She believed, though, that lying would only make it worse.
“For now,” he said.
“I won’t change my mind.”
“Don’t be too sure.”
“What does that mean?”
Not answering her, he changed the subject. “All right, then I want only one thing from you before you leave.”
“What’s that?”
He went to a desk in the den, which was adjacent to the kitchen. He opened a drawer, pulled out a black box, and brought it to the table. When he flipped it open, she saw a large syringe.
She jumped out of her seat. “What the hell is that?”
“Relax,” he said, taking out the syringe along with a rubber cord. “I only want a vial of your blood.”
She felt herself recoil. “A what?”
“A vial of blood.”
“What for?”
Sighing, he showed his first signs of irritation with her. “Sarah, you are a unique specimen. I myself am a bit of a novice scientist myself. I’d like to study your DNA. Find out just exactly how you survive without serum.”
She continued to stand there, doubting his truthfulness.
He didn’t back down. “Sarah, the three most important people in my life are dead because of my involvement with you. I find that I have been exceedingly kind in not immediately retaliating by wiping the earth clean of any semblance of Ramsey, or Declan, for that matter. Now, I offer you one dose of serum for one vial of your blood. Take it or leave it. It is my final offer.”
She could feel the heat radiate from him, and she knew she’d used up whatever clout she’d had for now. Dinner over and his proposal denied, he’d become agitated. She knew she’d pushed the boundaries as far as she could. Anxious to return to the hospital, she gave in to her fate, and stepping closer, she offered him her arm.
“What about the wine?” she asked.
“I’m not taking a blood alcohol level, Sarah.”
Turning her head, she felt him put the rubber band around her arm and tie it off. Closing her eyes, she somehow knew she was offering this man more than just her blood, but unable to do otherwise, she remained still and shut her eyes, wincing when she felt the prick of the needle against her arm. She stood unmoving as he filled the vial with the dark red liquid from her arm. He grabbed a tissue from the counter and held it against her skin as he removed the needle.
“There,” he said, bending her arm against the tissue to put pressure against the puncture. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
He capped the needle, put the syringe filled with her blood back in the box, and closed it. Setting it aside, he asked, “How do you feel?”
Feeling slightly nauseated, she said, “I’m fine. Now where’s mine?”
He grinned at her. “You just can’t wait to get back to him, can you?”
Saying nothing, she waited.
“Very well.” He moved back to the desk from which he’d retrieved the black box. He opened a second drawer and pulled out a thinner, smaller gray box, then brought it over to her. Upon opening it, she saw that there was a small syringe inside.
Taking it out, he showed it to her. “This is one dose of serum.” She could see a small amount of amber colored liquid within the vial. “Simply inject it into his IV. You should see results fairly soon.”
She noticed that on the body of the syringe, the letter “Y” was written in black marker. She looked at him with confusion, and he understood.
“Just my flair for the dramatic. The thought of you thinking of me when you inject him, well, I find it pleasing.” He put the syringe back in the box and handed it to her. “This will probably give him another year or two with you as well. Lucky me.”
Taking the box without saying a word, she opened her arm and removed the tissue.
He took it from her, stepped aside, and threw it away. “My driver will be out front. He’ll take you back.”
Relief flooded her because she believed this ordeal was almost over, but she had a lingering doubt. Holding the box, she had to ask him a question. “This is the real deal, Yates? This won’t kill him instead?”
“He’s dying anyway. What would be the point?”
“It’s your flair for the dramatic, as you say. It seems like it’s something you would do just to spite me and hurt him.”
He stood there and stared at her, having no reaction. “It’s up to you, Sarah, whether you trust me or not,” he said. “Give him the serum or don’t.”
Realizing he had not answered her question but knowing he did it intentionally, she said nothing. Pocketing the serum in her jacket, she took a step to leave, but an intense wave of nausea hit her and her vision spun. She sucked in a breath and bent over, holding the kitchen counter to keep herself upright. “Oh,” she said, holding her stomach and closing her eyes, hoping it would pass.
“Sarah,” said Yates. “You okay?” He stood where he was, watching.
“I’m dizzy,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Feel sick.” It was all she could get out as another wave hit her. She buckled to her knees so she wouldn’t fall over. “What’s happening?”
Yates made no move to help her. “Probably the wine and the blood I took. It may have made you ill.” He sat on his heels. “Take some breaths and keep your head down. It should help.”
Doing what he said, she went to her hands and knees, unable to stay balanced on her knees alone. She sat back on her heels as another intense wave washed over her. Fighting back the urge to vomit, she put her forehead all the way to the ground and felt the cold marble against her skin.
“Oh God.” Spots appeared before her eyes, spinning crazily. “What did you do?”
“Just relax, Sarah. It’s almost over. Just give in to it.”
Managing to turn her head, she looked over at him with squinted eyes just as she felt her body begin to give in to the darkness. “You lied to me.”
He watched her lean over onto her side and curl into a fetal position. “I didn’t lie. I simply augmented the terms of our agreement.”
Her body relaxed, her eyes closed and she went still. He moved closer to her and gently turned her on her back. He put his arms beneath her and easily lifted her.
He studied her limp form. “We’re not quite done yet, Sarah. I need you to do one last thing for me.” Holding her body close to his, he walked out of the kitchen and carried her up the stairs.