by Lori Wilde
His physical energy was overwhelming. It would be so simple to crumble and tell him everything. But she didn’t even know him. How could she trust him with her secret? She tried to shift away, to distance herself from him but he held her trapped.
“Hannah.” He held up his right hand that was miraculously whole. “I want an explanation for this and I want it now.”
“You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Is this believable?” He ran a finger along the spot where his cut had been moments before. “One minute I’m pouring blood like a fountain and the next minute—after you touch me, I might add—full skin integrity is restored. It’s bizarre, it’s supernatural but it happened and I want to know how.”
“You don’t understand,” she said desperately. “Time is running out. I have to leave. Now. This minute. I may already be too late.”
The truth was, she didn’t know how the healing power had been transferred from the broken vials of Virusall to herself. Nor did she know how to control her newfound power. Could she manifest this ability at will or did it appear only when she needed it?
Suddenly, she remembered Margie Price. The woman had spoken of having a painful crick in her neck that had disappeared right after Hannah had shaken her hand. And at the time, Hannah had experienced that same tingling, the same warmth as when she had healed Tyler, except on a smaller scale. Had she healed Margie’s stiff neck, as well?
“Why is time running out? Because of your dwindling health?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“This inexplicable healing power has got something to do with your abnormal blood values, and don’t try to deny it. The two things have got to be connected.”
A pounding headache built behind her eyes. Reaching up, she massaged her brow. Okay, if she could cure Tyler and Margie, then why not herself? Was she immune to her own cure? Her broken leg and ruptured spleen had healed spontaneously in the emergency room, so why the headache? What was different? Hannah willed the headache away but it persisted, gathering strength.
Her mouth was dry. She moistened her lips and narrowed her eyes against the kitchen lights that seemed intolerably bright. “Those people that I told you about. The ones that want to harm me. They’re the reason I’m on the run. I have to find my friend, Marcus, before he, before they do something….” Her throat constricted cutting off the rest of her sentence.
“You’re talking in riddles. I want the whole story. From the beginning and I want it now.”
“Can’t.” It was all she could manage. The throbbing in her head increased. Nausea swept through her. She had to sit. Blindly, she reached out.
“Hannah?” His hand was at her hair, gently stroking her, while his other arm went around her, pulling her against his broad chest. In an instant he was as soft and caring as, earlier, he had been forceful and determined. “Sweetheart? Talk to me—what’s wrong?”
When she could not respond, he swept her into his arms and carried her upstairs to the bedroom where she had spent the previous night. She watched the carpet flow away beneath his feet as he climbed the stairs, her head whirling and her vision playing tricks.
He laid her beneath the sheets and pulled the covers to her chin. Her shaking increased until she was trembling so violently her teeth clattered and she began to hyperventilate.
She didn’t have time for this. She had already stayed here far too long. And yet, more than anything, she wanted to block out the rest of the world and stay forever in this man’s arms.
“Hang tight,” Tyler said, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
Scarcely able to nod, Hannah curled into a fetal position and struggled to breathe.
He returned a moment later with a brown paper bag, a cool damp washcloth and his black medical bag. He slipped the paper bag over her mouth and nose and held it in place with his hands.
“Shh, slow down.”
Panic tightened her chest.
“Breathe deeply. That’s it. In through your nose and out through your mouth.”
She obeyed.
“That’s good.”
In a few minutes, she felt herself relax and the tension ebb.
“Okay.” He removed the paper bag. His eyes were bright with concern. Tenderly, he ran the damp cloth over her face, soothing her. “How does that feel?”
“Nice.”
He checked her vital signs. “Both your blood pressure and temperature are low and your pulse is fast. Can you describe your symptoms?”
“Headache,” she whispered. “Nausea. Weakness.”
“This started right after you healed me.”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a history of migraines?”
“No, I never get headaches. In fact, it used to be a joke back at the lab.”
“Lab?”
Hannah propped herself up on her elbows and met his kind gaze. She saw nothing but openness, a willingness to hear her out. She owed him the truth. No matter how far-fetched, he had to know what he had gotten himself involved in because there was no denying, the minute she had reached out and healed him, Tyler had become a player in this drama. Without meaning to, she had tied him to herself irrevocably.
“I’m a research scientist at Daycon Laboratories in Austin.”
“Does this have anything to do with the chemicals that were found in your car?”
She nodded, her gut squeezing with fear as she remembered the accident. Then bit by bit, she told him everything. About her parents and their dedication to eradicating disease, about their deaths in Africa of Ebola, about her own quest to cure the virus. Tyler listened while Hannah cleared her throat and told him everything she knew about Virusall.
“And this extraordinary drug cures all viruses?” He shook his head, a stunned expression on his face. “How is that possible?”
She gave him detailed information on her seven years of research and the particulars of the various chemical compounds.
“You’re a little over my head,” he admitted.
“It’s truly a miracle drug. I can explain the properties but I can’t tell you why it works on every virus every time, but it does.”
Tyler whistled. “If I hadn’t seen the results myself, I wouldn’t have believed it.” He stared at his hand. “Wait a minute. You said you discovered this antiviral agent, but it was your touch that healed me, plus you cured a cut not a virus. How is it possible this happened?”
That’s when she told him about her contact with the radioactive isotopes and Marcus’s theories. “But honestly,” she said, “I’m just as confused about this latest development as you are. I didn’t even know I had the capacity to heal until I touched you. I’m guessing when Virusall got into my bloodstream it reacted with the radiation stored in my cells and somehow I took on the healing properties. The trouble is, I don’t know if the manifestation is long term, short term, or if healing your hand was a one-time thing.”
“And your lab values? Your symptoms? What’s causing that?” He sat on the edge of the bed looking like he had been poleaxed. He was a man of science and the magical quality of the things she was relating took time to absorb.
“I have no idea. I knew the drug was unstable, possibly even dangerous, despite its positive aspects. Then when I got the results back from the clinic trials, I knew we were in deep trouble.” She told him what had happened with the test subjects.
“Were there any side effects in people with other blood types?”
“I don’t know. I was so upset by the other findings I didn’t have time to investigate those.”
Tyler scratched his head. “You’re AB negative, right?”
“Yes.”
“It appears to me that your immune system is reacting adversely to the combination of radiation and Virusall exposure, turning your own body against you.”
“While at the same time giving me supernatural healing abilities,” she finished his thought for him.
“I didn’t want to be the first on
e to use the word supernatural.”
“It’s the right word. We both know it.”
Their eyes met.
“The drug may be killing you, Hannah, even as it gives you this incredible power.” His voice was serious and tinged with sadness.
“I know. Do you think that I might pass these symptoms on to you?” The thought terrified her.
He shook his head. “There’s no way to know for certain, but I doubt it. Even if you had administered the drug to me, my body might have responded differently and I wasn’t exposed to radiation like you were. Did you see any other anomalies?”
“Well, with everyone in the study there was an initial dip in white blood cell count and platelets, but the lab values quickly returned to normal. Usually within an hour or two after administration of the drug.”
“Just like with the paramedics,” he mused. “Yes, I believe your particular immune system response is tied in with your radiation exposure. Please, don’t worry that you could have passed it on to me just by touching my cut.”
“I did more than touch your cut. I healed you. Did you feel anything afterward? Sudden weakness, headaches?”
“No. I felt intensely energized.”
“That’s good.”
“How about you? How are you feeling?”
She licked her lips. “A little better.”
“Let me check your vital signs again.” He performed another blood pressure, pulse count and temperature check.
“How are they?”
“You’re still tachycardic, but your blood pressure’s coming up,” he said.
“There’s something else I don’t know. How long do the effects of these healings last? Is it permanent or temporary?” Hannah worried her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Only time will tell.”
“I’ve opened a Pandora’s box I can’t close.” Her weakness seemed to be passing, her headache lessening, but she felt exhausted straight through her bones.
“You haven’t told me the whole story. What are you running away from, Hannah? Who are these people that are out to harm you?”
She hesitated before speaking. She still wanted to spare him the details, but like it or not, he was a part of this. “If I tell you, then you’re in danger, too.”
“How can you not tell me, Hannah? You’ve got to have help. You can’t do this alone.”
His words, the tenderness in his eyes, caused her heart to race and the lightheadedness to return, but this time she knew it had nothing to do with low blood pressure and a rapid pulse.
“You would do that for me?” Emotion caught in her throat at the reality of what he was offering. At long last. Someone to lean on.
But as much as she might ache to let down her guard and trust him, she could not. She had to protect him. She would not endanger his life by letting him get too close to her.
“I can’t accept your offer.”
“Hannah, I need to help you as much as you need the help. For the past six years I’ve been holed up in my grief. A virtual zombie, dead to life. Until you. Please, let me help you. For my own selfish reasons.”
“Wait until I tell you what’s at stake. Then you can make a decision whether I’m worth the risk or not.”
“I’m listening. Although I can tell you right now, you’re worth whatever it takes.”
She smiled, heartened by his response. “What I did was precipitous and presumptuous. My idealistic enthusiasm has cost me a great deal.”
“Idealism is never a bad thing.”
“Ha. It is when you work for Lionel Daycon.” Hannah heard the bitterness in her own voice and realized she was very angry with Daycon. He had not only spoiled everything she had worked seven years to create, but he had jeopardized her life, making her future shaky at best.
Tyler waited for her to go on. He was leaning above her, an arm placed on either side of her shoulders. She looked up at him, remembering the incredible kiss they had shared on the beach. Her anger dissipated and was immediately replaced by sadness. Without a future, she could promise him nothing.
Even if things were different, he was obviously placing unrealistic expectations on her ability to heal his broken heart. She swallowed hard. She wished she could whisper rash, romantic promises that she knew she couldn’t keep, but she’d never been that kind of person. Her word was gold. She did not give it capriciously. She could make him no vows.
Slowly, he lowered his head and traced his lips along her mouth. Hannah did not resist. He deepened the kiss, but it was not demanding. He meant it to comfort, not arouse her, but instantly she felt rejuvenated and her headache vanished. She felt as if she were a car with a new battery. Her heart fluttered.
“You taste nice.” He pulled back to study her face. “I could get seriously accustomed to doing that.”
Me, too! That’s why she had to stop this. Now.
Tyler reached out a hand and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. Hannah sucked in air. Every time he touched her with an affectionate gesture she experienced a jolt of pure rapture. Healing him had drained her, but kissing him revived her. She had the strangest urge to bounce around the room.
“Your cheeks are pinking up,” he said and she hated to tell him she was blushing. “But I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on, tell me the rest of the story.”
“I’ve been such a fool,” she whispered, desperate to shake off this bittersweet desire for him. “I thought I was going to save lives. Me, Hannah Zachary. Single-handedly I was going to eradicate all viruses and make the world a better place.” Then she grimly told him everything about Daycon’s criminal intention to supply terrorists with the drug and his dark association with the rogue CIA insider. “So you see, I had to keep the formula for Virusall away from Daycon.”
“How did you manage it?”
“I set fire to the lab.”
“Hannah! You could have been hurt or killed.”
She stubbornly hardened her chin. “I did what I had to do.”
“How did you get your hands on the vials you were carrying in your car?”
“I kept a few samples at home. I also have a computer linkup to Daycon Laboratories. I went home and deleted all my computer files. I destroyed everything.”
“Everything?” he echoed.
“Well, except for a copy of the formula I e-mailed to my friend Marcus in New Mexico. That’s where I was headed when Daycon’s men caught me and forced me off the road, causing me to crash. Do you see now why I can’t go to the police? I’m wanted for arson in Austin. Daycon’s got the CIA in his pocket and he’s telling everyone I’m crazy. It’s his word against mine. Who do you think they’ll believe? An eccentric scientist or a rich and powerful man? I can’t even go to the media as I’d first intended before the car wreck. I no longer have proof of my discovery. At least not until I find Marcus.”
Silence elongated in the small room. She peered up at Tyler but his face was unreadable. What was he thinking? Had her act of arson put him off? Was he disappointed in her? Did he consider her a lunatic, a zealot? She hated to think of his judgment.
“You’re very courageous,” he said at long last.
“Or very stupid. My principles have often gotten me into trouble.” She smiled wryly.
“Daycon’s men left you for dead on the roadside? Why didn’t they finish you off?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she said, “and I figured they were suppose to bring me back to Daycon, but eyewitnesses arrived so quickly they were unable to get their hands on me. Without me, Daycon can’t reproduce the formula. Now, with the vials gone, neither can I. Not alone. I need Marcus for that, but he’s something of a hermit. He lives in the mountains and keeps to himself.”
“Your friend is familiar with the drug?”
“Yes. In the early days, before he left Daycon, we were working together on the formula. But I’m worried about him.” She told Tyler about the phone call to Marcus, the line going dead, and then being unable to reach him again.
>
“There could be a logical explanation.”
“Yes—Daycon’s men have already gotten to him.”
“What are you saying? That Lionel Daycon is capable of murder?”
“I think he’s capable of hiring it done.” Hannah shivered. She felt very tired.
“You’re serious.”
“There’s a lot of money at stake and Lionel Daycon is a very greedy man. Do you see why time is running out? I’m sick and getting sicker. Marcus is the only hope I’ve got and I’m not even sure where he’s at. Right now, I’m all alone.”
“That’s not true, Hannah.”
Their gazes locked. She saw something in Tyler’s eyes that gave her hope—strength, determination and devotion.
“You’ve got me,” he said and squeezed her hand.
Chapter 7
What had he committed himself to? Tyler felt as if he’s taken a header off the Empire State building. He braced himself as a tidal wave of emotions hit. Panic, resolve, elation, apprehension. His mood ran the gamut.
Hannah’s eyes had shuttered closed for a brief moment and she had immediately fallen asleep. Tyler sat for a moment watching her, trying to get his bearings. Trying to decide what was real.
He was reassured by her slow steady breathing. Poor kid. She needed rest and lots of it. Softly, Tyler eased off the bed and turned out the light to let her sleep while he struggled to come to grips with what had just happened.
Tiptoeing downstairs to the kitchen, his mind reeled from the events she had just relayed to him. Magical healing potions that drove test subjects insane, radioactive isotopes, homicidal pharmaceutical owners, dangerous henchmen, a renegade CIA operative and a mysterious hermit living in the mountains of New Mexico.
It was a lot to absorb.
And he might have suspected Hannah had a psychotic break with reality except for one thing.
His hand.
Tyler held his right hand up to the light and studied it carefully. Not a trace of the cut. Not even a scar.
Impossible. His scientific mind rebelled, not wanting to accept the truth, but there was no other explanation, rational or irrational. He could not cling stubbornly to denial.