YATES SAT AT his desk in his home, staring up at the computer monitors where bits of data and formulas splayed across the screen, which would have looked more like a jumble of tiles from a Scrabble game to any lay person. But he didn’t study the data. His mind traveled elsewhere. Arriving home a week earlier from his honeymoon, he recounted his successes and delighted in his satisfaction. He and Sarah had enjoyed a wonderful time together. The idea of extending the trip had crossed his mind, since he knew Sarah wanted to see Italy, but he chose not to when he realized he’d only brought a limited amount of medication for her. He couldn’t run the risk of running out. Smiling, he thought of their time together. She’d completely forgotten about Ramsey and appeared to have few lingering effects from the serum he’d given her. He’d created it after studying her blood chemistry and that of Ramsey’s, which he’d obtained during Ramsey’s stay in the hospital.
Based on what he knew of female Red-Lines, he understood that when they found a mate, they had a powerful and instinctual urge to bind with them. Arnuff and Emerson had told him little about this process, but he knew enough to realize that Sarah had come close to initiating the process with Ramsey, and he’d had to act fast before she claimed him as her own. Fearing that Ramsey’s recovery from Yates’s attack would only bring them closer, he’d been glad to hear from Julian that the exact opposite had happened; Ramsey had distanced himself from Sarah. Pleased at the news, Yates had buried himself in his lab, anxious to complete the creation of the drug that would make Sarah turn from Ramsey and choose him instead. It had been a risk. In time, he knew Ramsey would realize his mistake and find his way back to Sarah. Yates needed to act before that occurred.
After weeks of long work days and sleepless nights, he’d finally completed his testing of the drug. Despite his efforts, he knew the dangers still existed. If Sarah had received too much of his concoction, she could have forgotten him as well. Too little, and his plan was a failure. But as usual, he’d planned perfectly, and his experiment continued to work. With just a little help from the pills he gave her and the energy he used to mollify and distract her, Sarah had become his wife and lover while Ramsey, to Yates’s delight, had watched all of it unfold.
He smiled as he sat there, recalling the moment when his adversary had realized that Sarah did not recognize him. Ramsey had stood there, stunned, eyes wide in shock. Yates would carry that image with him for some time and revel in the beauty of it. But he also derived just as much joy from future surprises. Like the look on Ramsey’s face when he would ultimately reveal that Sarah was carrying his child. The anticipation of that sat with him like an excited child eager to hold a puppy.
Yates kept a steady eye on Sarah. She showed no signs of recall and she continued to take her pills, but she’d asked recently about being reexamined, wondering when she could forego the medication. He’d have to find a doctor to support his findings, but he knew that would be the easy part. Few disagreed with him, and if they did, he handled it accordingly. No, the bigger problem would be Sarah herself. He’d started working with her during their honeymoon, teaching her the ways of manipulating energy and how to use it to her advantage. He’d shown her how to expand and contract it, allowing her to reveal or hide herself and her thoughts. He’d taught her how to read objects and people, using that knowledge to make deductions and conclusions that could aid her in various situations. And with every lesson, he sensed the power in her. She’d picked up everything the first time, as if she’d always done it, but had forgotten her powers.
Yates knew that eventually her extrasensory skills would awaken the memories within if he didn’t act to prevent that from happening. And so he had returned to the lab, looking for the next solution—a serum that would make her his forever, with no remaining trace of Ramsey or his friends, while leaving the Sarah he knew intact. The fact that she could be pregnant had to be considered. He’d replaced her birth control pills with placebos, so it was just a matter of time. Sitting back in his seat, he stared at the busy screen, pleased with himself as he envisioned their bright future together.
**
Sarah walked through the kitchen. She’d just spent the last hour sitting on the patio, eating lunch and enjoying the day, but she’d done it alone. They’d been home for a week; the honeymoon in Paris and areas of Southern France had been both mesmerizing and beautiful, and Yates had introduced her to the beauty, culture, and food of the French people, but at the end, she’d been ready to return. Yates had flirted with the idea of staying and going to Italy, but something about it made her uncomfortable. She didn’t tell him that she’d wanted to leave because she didn’t want to disappoint him, but something inside her stirred and she’d wanted to return, as if she was missing something. Yates only suggested the idea of extending the trip once, perhaps realizing that he needed to return as well, and considering all the time he’d spent in his basement office since they’d been back, he must have had plenty of work to catch up on.
He had been downstairs since the early morning, and now, after she’d spent the day walking the beach and then organizing her closet, she felt the urge to get out of the house. She’d been almost housebound since coming home. Worried about the possibility of another episode occurring, Yates insisted that she take her time before venturing out, but she’d had no problems since their honeymoon and she felt fine.
Leaning against the counter, she looked down and opened her hand. Inside it was the small yellow pill she’d been taking every day since her last episode. Yates insisted that she take one each morning. Doctor’s orders apparently, though she could not remember any doctor. The bottle sat next to the salt and pepper shakers on the countertop. The pills had a label on them with a name written across in typeface—“XYZ Labs. Dr. Samuel Downey.” Yates explained that after her injury, he’d gone to work with the professionals at his lab to see what would help and this Dr. Downey had studied her test results and had recommended the yellow pill, stating apparently that it would help her with anxiety as well as her migraines. If taken over a period of time, it might also help with her memory issues. She didn’t know about any of that. She just didn’t like how it made her feel. She’d asked several times to be reevaluated, and Yates had agreed, but no subsequent appointment had been made. Now, looking at the pill in her hand, she toyed with the idea of discarding it.
“Hi.”
The voice startled her. Yates stood in the doorway to the kitchen. “You already eat lunch?” he asked.
She looked at the clock. “It’s two o’clock. I ate about an hour ago.”
He looked surprised. “It is? I’m sorry. Time got away from me.” His gaze moved to the pill in her hand. “Have you taken it today?”
Her hand closed around the pill. “Not yet. I was just going to.”
“You should have taken it earlier.” He walked to the cabinet and pulled out a glass. He filled it with water from the dispenser at the edge of the counter. “Here,” he said, handing her the glass of water.
Sarah knew that now was not the time to argue with him, so she took the glass and swallowed the pill.
“Good,” he said, taking the glass and putting it in the sink. “How about I set up an appointment to meet with Dr. Downey next week? We’ll get you checked out. Maybe he’ll be okay with changing your prescription.”
She couldn’t help but perk up at that. “Really?”
He smiled. “Yes. I know you’re tired of taking them, but I need you to be well, so just be patient, all right?”
She felt his concern. “Okay.”
She sat at the breakfast table, putting her hand in her chin. “What?” he asked. “What’s bothering you?”
She glanced over at him. “I’m bored.”
“You’re bored?”
“Yes. I’m in this big house. You’re holed up downstairs. I’m bored. Plus these pills make me feel like I’m walking through a fog.” She sighed. “Sorry. I know I’m complaining.”
He studied her for a second before he said, “Come with me.”
Her eyes tightened, but she sat up. “What?”
“Just come with me.” He motioned for her to follow, and she did. He walked to the door under the stairs that led to the basement area. It was not an actual underground basement. The house being on the beach, it sat up on stilts a good fifteen feet above the ground. The basement sat below it.
“You’re really going to let me into your private lair?” she asked. She had yet to see his office and lab.
“Of course,” he answered. “Why not?”
“I got the impression it was the man cave, with no women allowed.”
He held the door for her. “You’re the one exception.”
Walking over the threshold, she saw steps leading down into a dark hall. He hit a switch and the stairway brightened, revealing white walls and a simple staircase. At the bottom, she turned and saw a door to her right. Yates walked past her and took out a set of keys and unlocked it. Stepping back, he let her pass and walk inside. He reached in and flipped on the lights. She was impressed by the size of the room. The far corner illuminated a large wooden rectangular desk, with various stacks of paper and folders arranged neatly on its perimeters. Lined up next to each other, three impressively sized flat-screen computer monitors took center stage on the imposing desk, which had a worn cushioned brown leather chair pushed up under it. She could see a keyboard beneath the top of the desk in a hidden compartment.
Opposite the desk in the other corner was a large stainless-steel cabinet with a combination lock. Its size required much of the wall space. The middle of the room appeared to serve as a laboratory work space. There was a sink and a wide counter, with a small refrigerator and cabinets beneath and various machines and pieces of laboratory equipment that Sarah could not identify sat atop or next to it. Beakers, pipettes, microscopes, and Bunsen burners were about the only items she recognized, although everything else looked scientific enough. The only warmth in the room came from the soft sea-foam color painted on the walls. To the far right of the room, just next to where the large cabinet ended, stood a closed door.
“Well,” he asked. “What do you think? Not that exciting, really.”
Sarah walked around the room, touching objects as she moved, feeling the energy of each and seeing jumbled formulas and scientific jargon race through her mind. It meant nothing to her.
“It’s bigger than I imagined,” she said.
“It was smaller originally, and there was beach access. I had them enlarge the area when I bought the place.”
She moved up next to the locked cabinet. “Is this where you keep all your secrets?” she asked.
He smiled. “To some degree, yes. In my business, it’s best to keep what you’re working on under wraps. You can never be too careful.”
She walked up to the closed door beside the cabinet. “What’s in here?”
“Open it.”
She did and looked inside to see a small twin bed and nightstand with a lamp. Across the room stood another door which led to a small bathroom.
“I’ve spent more than a few all-nighters in there,” he said. “Back before I had a beautiful wife who shared my bed.”
She closed the door. “You don’t have any windows.”
“I consider it a basement area.”
“You’re on a beach. Why not build it where you can have a view?”
“It’s too distracting. I need to come down here and focus. I can’t do that if I’m staring out at the waves.”
“And here I thought you were down here playing video games and watching sports.”
He grunted. “I didn’t get where I am doing any of that.”
“No, I can see that.”
Walking over to the large cabinet, he said, “I want to show you something.”
“What?” She watched as he moved the dial to the combination lock back and forth until she heard an audible click, and he popped the doors open. She got a quick view inside as he pulled out a small box from above and put it on the workstation. Before he closed the doors again, she saw various other boxes and binders stacked inside and what looked like a square shaped trunk on the bottom shelf. It also had a lock on it.
“What’s that?” she asked, looking at the small container he’d taken from the cabinet.
Sliding the opening mechanism over, he opened the box, revealing what appeared to be a syringe and vials of solution. “You’re not the only one who has to take their medicine,” he said.
She cocked her head. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s Red-Line serum. I have to take it to survive.” He reached for a syringe-like device and took it out. There was no needle. It was designed so that vials of prepared serum could be inserted and he only needed to slide in a new vial whenever he took a new injection. The instrument had a vial already in place. He lifted his shirt and placed the needleless tip against his abdomen. He pushed against the tube that held the vial, and she heard a click, and then the serum slowly disappeared as it entered his body. Once it was gone, he released the pressure and pulled the device away from his skin. He popped out the empty vial and replaced it with a new one, throwing the old one away.
“How is it that you have serum?” she asked. “I thought it was gone.”
“Not all of it. This belonged to Arnuff and Emerson. They kept some in order to survive.”
“They did? And no one knew?”
“They lied. It came naturally to them.”
“How often do you have to take that?”
He closed the box and opened the cabinet, returning the box to the shelf before closing and locking the cabinet again. “Usually about once a month, depending.”
“Depending on what?”
“How I feel, usually. Sometimes, if I’ve been working a lot of late hours and getting little sleep, I might give myself an extra dose. There have been a few times when I’ve needed more.”
“Like when?” she asked.
He crossed his arms in front of him, as if thinking. “Once, when I was a teenager, I had a slight altercation.”
“Slight altercation?”
“Yes,” he said. “I got pissed off. I reacted in a way which resulted in unpleasant consequences.”
She squinted at him. “What does that mean?”
His posture tensed. “I threw Arnuff up against a wall, and he retaliated by sending me into the path of an oncoming car.”
“What?”
“It wasn’t going that fast.”
“He threw you in front of a moving vehicle?”
“Arnuff didn’t have much tolerance for an aggressive teenager.”
“But why? What did you do that was so bad?”
Yates scowled. “I hated him. I called him a weak old fool. Told him I was better and stronger than him.” He stared off. “He decided to put me in my place.”
Sarah shook her head. “How bad was it?”
“Three broken ribs and a fractured leg. Some internal injuries. Luckily, Red-Lines heal fast, especially when they have serum to help. I took it every day for two weeks.”
“And Arnuff?”
“What about him?”
“Did he apologize? Feel bad for what he’d done?”
“He was gone the next day. I didn’t see him again for another month. I was healed by then.”
She felt the pain he tried to hide. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. He found out later that what I said was true.”
Now she felt his anger flare. “What do you mean?”
“It’s not important anymore. He’s out of my life.” Shaking off the past, he walked up next to her and put his arms around her. “And now you’re in it, which is all that matters.”
She encircled her arms around him, and they held each other.
“How much serum do you have?”
“Oh, I’ll live to be a hundred, I’m sure. Don’t worry about me. Arnuff and Emerson had enough saved to take care of the family for a while.”
“Good,” she said. “I don’t plan on being a widow.”
“You won’t be.” He kissed her nose.
She smiled. “Thank you."
“For what?”
“For sharing that with me. For sharing your space with me.”
He hugged her. “I’ll share everything with you. What’s mine is yours.”
She pulled back. “I still have a problem, though.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m still bored.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yes, that. I need to get out of this house.”
He shrugged. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. I’d like to see Rachel. See my aunt.”
“Sounds fine to me.”
“I could go back to work.”
“No.”
She pulled out of his arms. “Why not?”
“Because you don’t need to work.”
“It’s not about needing to work. It’s about having something to do.”
“I don’t want you working right now. You’re still recovering.”
“But I feel fine.”
“I know you do, but that can be deceiving.”
“Well, then, I need to go back to the doctor. Let him check me out. I’m sure he would clear me.”
“When he clears you, then that’s fine. But not until then.”
Sarah didn’t understand. “Why are you so worried?”
“Sarah, I almost lost you once, and it scared me to death. I know you’re eager to return to your life, but I don’t want you taking it too fast.”
“I’ll take it slow, but I need to venture out once in a while. At least go out and shop or get a cup of coffee.”
“I’d love to take you shopping. You want to go out to dinner tonight? I’ll have Julian make reservations.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean me going out on my own. Driving. Going on errands. Doing things around the house.”
“But we’ve got people for that.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know that, but I’m perfectly capable of cooking a meal or doing laundry or going to the grocery store. If you’re not comfortable yet with me working, at least let me contribute.”
He smiled. “You really want to do the laundry?”
She sighed. “Anything is better than me standing around and staring at the walls. I want a car, too.”
“Well, that’s easy. I’ve got six of them.”
“I want the car keys.”
“We have a driver.”
“But I don’t want a driver.”
“Why not?”
She groaned. “Because I am perfectly capable of driving.”
“I know, but why do it when I’ve got somebody to do it for you?”
“You’re deliberately trying to irritate me, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m just thinking of your safety.”
“My safety?”
“Yes.”
“You expect the bogeyman or something? In case you haven’t noticed, I can take care of myself.”
He didn’t answer immediately. “I know that,” he finally said. “It’s just…”
“Just what?” She was waiting for him to answer when it dawned her. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“Who?”
“You’re worried about that man, Ramsey, aren’t you?” She knew she was right. “What? You think he’s going to show up and I’m going to fall for him?”
Yates’s face hardened. “That’s not funny.”
“I can handle him.”
“Sarah, he’s not someone you can trust.”
“Listen, I am not going to sit in this house and live in fear. That’s not who I am, and it’s not who you married.”
“It’s because of him that you ended up with a head injury. If something else happened or he tried again to get to you…”
“You said yourself that you thought he finally got the message. He knows now that I’m with you. And if he showed up and tried to convince me otherwise, I’d set him straight.”
Yates paused. “You would?”
“Yes. Without hesitation.”
He appeared to gauge whether or not he trusted her to be out on her own.
“You’ve taught me a lot,” she said. “Remember?”
“Yes, I know, but there’s more to learn.”
“I know enough. Ramsey’s a Gray-Line. I can handle him.”
Yates hesitated. “Okay,” he said. “I hear you. I’ll try to ease up a bit.”
“Good.”
“But I still want Nelson to drive you.”
“What for?”
“Because I’m paying him. He ought to do something while he’s here.”
“So let him drive you.”
He reached up and took hold of her shoulders. “Sarah, please, humor me for now. You want to go out and get a cup of coffee or go grocery shopping or meet Rachel for lunch, fine. I’ll live with that. But for now, use Nelson. I’ll feel better if you do.”
She weighed whether it was worth continuing the argument. Considering that he’d agreed to her leaving on her own, she decided to live with it for now, but she hadn’t forgotten his other concession. “All right, I’ll use the driver provided you make an appointment with that doctor. Today.”
He held up his hands. “Fine. You win. I’ll call him.”
“Thank you.”
He reached out and took her back into his arms, pulling her close. “You drive a hard bargain.”
Her arms encircled his waist, and she felt him squeeze her. “Yeah, well, I don’t give in so easy.”
His lips found her neck. “I can see that,” he said, and she felt herself relax.
“And I’m not giving up,” she added, feeling herself warm as she hugged him back.
“On what?” he asked as he nibbled her skin.
“Finding myself again. One of these days I will.” She found his ear with her tongue and flicked it.
She felt him still for the slightest moment before he resumed his attention to her neck and jawline. “I know, Sarah,” she heard him say in a whisper. “I know.”