Page 56 of The Union
“Keep working on your plan,” Steven said. “If we fail to bring in Peter Landon, then we’ll decide the next step.” Pulling out his phone from his jeans pocket, he stalked in the direction of Dr. Vieira’s office, then closed himself in.
Sawyer, the vampire with kaleidoscope eyes, stretched his neck from one side to the other. “I’m confident Jo and Webb will come through.”
“Whether they do or not, I’m murdering Roman Brown when we find him,” Cooper said through clenched teeth.
On our trek from the elevator, Vera had explained how Roman had lured Ross and Dane to a diner under false pretenses. Ross had gone to the restroom, and when he’d returned, Roman and a human were shoving Dane in the back of an SUV. Bad blood existed between Roman and the Gray Pack. Frankly, their feud with the head of the blood cartel was none of my business. I had my own shit to deal with. I was curious where my uncle Jack fit into Intech’s scheme and if he knew his mother was in the States.
Jordyn and I had tried calling Aunt Tab and Jack, but there was no answer. Before my grandmother waltzed into the picture like General Patton, I had hoped Jack would come around to our side since he didn’t believe in genetic engineering.
“We have several people to axe,” I added as I skirted by the bench and ducked into Sam’s room. Maybe I would take a page out of Lizzie Borden’s playbook. An axe would definitely chop off heads in one swoop.
I sat in a chair next to his bed and sighed. I’d only gotten two hours of sleep. My mind was wired, but my body was slowly shutting down. I didn’t know how much longer I could operate on so little sleep. Just about every night was the same—dream, wake up, bite my nails, snack, work out, watch TV, and take catnaps. I couldn’t keep going on like this. My sleep problem wasn’t exactly related to Sam’s comatose state. My hormones were to blame, as well as my nightmares.
I entwined my fingers with Sam’s and kissed the back of his hand. When I did, a spark tinged my lips as though he was giving me a sign that he could feel me. “I’m crazy about you, vampire.” I kissed him again, and his arm twitched.
I jumped up and leaned over him, still holding his hand. “Sam, if you can hear me, squeeze my fingers.”
A minute passed and nothing. Maybe my exhaustion was making me hallucinate.
I whispered in his ear, “I love you. Give me a sign you’re in there.”
His hand jerked in mine.
Tears pooled in my eyes as I smiled for the first time in a while. “We’re trying everything we can to bring you back. Your babies need you.” If I was having twins, that was. I was far enough along where an ultrasound could detect the number of fetuses.
I couldn’t wait for my ultrasound now. I was scheduled to see Dr. Vieira’s colleague, Dr. Martin, next week. One of the reasons Doc had suggested bringing in Dr. Martin to help wasn’t only because of his expertise, but Dr. Martin also had the tools. The infirmary wasn’t equipped with a transvaginal ultrasound machine.
“We found the scientist,” Steven announced in an excited voice.
Hallelujah!
I dropped into the chair and cried. We weren’t out of the woods yet, but finding Peter Landon was a step in the right direction.
22
LAYLA
At four forty-five that morning, Steven had announced that Webb and Jo had found the scientist. By six that night, a wiry Peter Landon, who looked to be in his late forties, set his hard-shell silver suitcase on one of the lab benches.
His salt-and-pepper hair was disheveled. His cheeks were splotchy, as though he had blood-pressure issues, his brown eyes were tired and hollow, and one side of his wrinkled button-down shirt hung out of his black trousers.
Looking at him, my heart broke. The man appeared fragile and scared. I imagined that, with a price on his head, he was. Or the cause could be the fact that he’d been taken by vampires. But I was grateful he was standing before us because I was hoping he could bring Sam out of his coma.
Questions started flying at him like a tennis ball in a doubles match. His head even mimicked a spectator in the stands—volleying back and forth from Steven to Jo to Sawyer to Ross to Cooper. Dr. Vieira and I were the only two who weren’t jumping down the poor scientist’s throat. I had questions, lots of them. But first, Peter needed to figure out how to get Sam out of his coma. Frankly, Peter should be the one asking us the questions.
I held up my hands, almost knocking Jo in the shoulder next to me. “Please, can I say something?”
Ross narrowed his blue eyes at me and sneered from his spot at the end of the lab bench. “No.”
I flipped him off. “I didn’t ask you.” I was tempted to grab one of the daggers strapped to Jo’s leg and fling it at Ross.
“This fucking mess is your fault, Layla,” Ross spat.
I clamped my mouth shut, glaring at his bald head. Arguing with him wouldn’t help Sam or Dane. However, when the time came, I would give Ross a piece of my mind. I didn’t care that he was second-in-command of the Gray Pack. I’d apologized to Vera for her sister’s death, but the wolves needed to stop blaming me. I hadn’t forced Vera’s sister to go to the club that night—or to date Roman Brown, for that matter.
Across from me, Dr. Vieira moved a microscope to his left, pursing his lips. “Okay, everyone. We’re all on edge. Let’s give Peter some space to catch his breath. Ross and Cooper, why don’t you check on Dane. He should be stirring soon.”
Jo went over to the fridge in the corner of the infirmary and returned with a bottle of water. “Here, Peter. I’m sorry we haven’t given you a chance to collect your thoughts.”
