Her cell phone rang. It was Roman.
“Babe, I can’t make it tonight. Something’s come up at the lab and I need to be here. I was looking forward to seeing you.” He paused. “I miss you already,” he whispered.
“I’ve got a few surprises for you,” she said in her sexiest voice, hoping to mask her disappointment.
“You have?” he asked seductively. “Will I like them?”
“Uh-huh and so will I.”
* * *
Roman
* * *
Roman hated himself for breaking tonight’s date with Grace. He’d been abrupt. But he had no choice. Too much conversation might have caused him to slip up and reveal too much, and the less she knew about him—what he was—and the Ortega Project, the better. He’d lucked out last night. But sooner or later she’d ask about his battle scars. Long slashes, especially the newly acquired scar—across his torso would be especially difficult to explain.
He wanted to be with Grace, but his presence at the lab was required. The crisis unfolding was too important to the future of the program and his team. Why were they losing vampire strength and healing ability? Were they now more human? More vampire? Deep down, Roman had hoped the formula would humanize him completely, sparing him from telling Grace what a monster he was.
To find out the reason why the program was failing, they’d subjected themselves to poking and prodding by lab techs. Hell, Roman felt like a damn pin cushion.
While they sat around in the lounge, awaiting the diagnosis, a cloud of tension hovered overhead. Tempers simmered and worked their way to the surface, ready to erupt. Anxiety and dread showed on his men’s grim, stone faces. Usually, Roman set an example of calm, but tonight he failed miserably. With clenched jaw and fists, he paced and glanced at the clock above the doorway. “What’s taking so damn long?”
“Hey, Roman.” Gabriel rolled a stool next to him. “What’s the plan if the project bites us in the ass?”
“I’m hoping it won’t,” he answered, cracking his knuckles.
“I vote we quit this damn program and go back to what we were, to what we know. How about it?”
“Crawford says it’s no longer safe to turn—”
Gabriel’s nostrils flared. “Fuck Crawford. I want out.”
Up until a few weeks ago, he would have agreed. Then he met Grace. “Things have changed. For now, I can’t quit the program.”
“You can’t quit? What about the rest of us? Come on, Roman, this isn’t like you. We used to be a team.” Gabriel pounded his own chest. “You and me. Now it’s Grace this and Grace that. I sure hope she’s worth it.”
“She is.”
“No woman is.”
“It’s not something I planned. It just happened. She kind of snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking, and I consider myself pretty damn lucky to have her.”
“Both Doc and Crawford warned us about getting involved with anyone in case something went wrong. And you can’t get more wrong than this. You’re supposed to be our fucking leader. What are you planning to do?” Gabriel asked.
“For now—nothing. Once we find out, I’ll talk to the Elder Council and let you know what they advise.”
Roman needed quiet to think—to sort things out—something he couldn’t do with Gabriel running off at the mouth. He cracked his knuckles and snarled. Afraid he’d do something stupid and drive one of his fists straight into Gabriel’s face, he headed for the door.
Gabriel grabbed his shoulder. “Hey, where are you going?”
He jerked his shoulder free. “Get your hands off me.”
“Whoa,” Gabriel raised his hands and backed up. “Where’d that come from?”
“I need to figure this out, and I can’t with your bullshit interrogation going on.” He continued walking.
Gabriel followed close behind.
“Back off!” He turned to confront Gabriel, hoping he’d throw the first punch. He wanted an excuse to flatten him.
Alex jumped into the fracas. He moved between them and pushed them away from each other. “Knock it off. Both of you.”
“I didn’t do a damn thing, except tell the truth.” Gabriel jabbed an index finger at Roman. “You screwed up, so don’t take it out on me.”
Roman lunged at Gabriel
Alex held him back. “Get out of here, Gabe. I need to talk to him. Alone.”
“Go fuck yourself, Alex!” Gabriel bolted out the door, swinging it open with such strength, it slammed against the wall. The force dislodged the prominently displayed certificates hanging on the wall, and sent them crashing on the floor.
Anger flashed in Alex’s eyes. He grabbed Roman’s arm. “What the hell are you doing?”
He shoved Alex away and took several deep breaths to calm down—trying to keep himself from tearing after Gabriel and beating the shit out of him. “He just pisses me off.”
“This isn’t about Gabe. Something else is eating at you.”
“You shouldn’t have stopped me. Gabe’s long overdue for an attitude adjustment.”
“Sit down.” He pointed at Roman’s recliner. “We need to talk.”
Roman raked his fingers through his hair and dropped into his recliner. “Go ahead.”
“You probably don’t want to hear this.”
“Then don’t say it.”
“Look, we’re family and I care what happens to you. As much as I hate to admit it, Gabe’s right about getting involved. Maybe you’re getting too close to Grace. Maybe you should cool things off for a while.”
“Maybe you should shut your damn mouth and keep your thoughts to yourself.” Alex’s comments cut like a sharp blade. Had his cousin turned on him, too? “I’ll try.”
“Trying’s not good enough. You know the rules about involvements. You’re going to get hurt. Grace is going to get hurt. Have you told her what you are?”
Roman winced. “No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know how.” His voice shook. If he told the truth, he’d lose her for sure.
Alex’s brows furrowed. “Maybe you won’t have to. Break it off before it’s too late.”
How could he possibly end his relationship with Grace? For the first time since he met her, he realized how important she’d become to his existence. “I can’t stop seeing her,” he answered softly.
“You love her, don’t you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Hell, yeah. It’s cool that you found her, but your timing’s screwed. You should have waited. As long as I can remember, you always talked about having a normal relationship. But you can’t, because you’re not normal.”
Seth opened the door and poked his head inside the lounge. “Alex, Gabe wants to head out.”
“Where are you off to?” Roman asked.
“Going to blow off some steam.” Alex stood. He arched his back and stretched. “It sure beats the hell out of sitting around here. You coming along?”
Roman shook his head. “Go without me.” He didn’t even ask where they were going. He didn’t care. All he cared about was Grace.
“You gonna be okay?”
Probably not. He shrugged.
“Catch you later.” Alex grabbed his jacket and left to join the others.
Maybe his team had the right idea. Why be miserable by yourself? After Alex’s little pep talk, he grew more determined than ever to make his relationship with Grace work. Desire to be with her tonight consumed him. He picked up his cell phone and hit speed dial.
* * *
Roman
* * *
Roman’s decision to see Grace was the right one. When he arrived, she flew into his arms. With long blonde hair that reached halfway down her back, his girl was a vision in her short pink nightgown. He held her for several minutes, drawing her scent into his lungs and listening to her breathe.
“I missed you so much,” she whispered.
“Missed you, too.”
Breaking their embrace, she led him to the dayb
ed and kissed him. Then they made love.
Afterwards, Roman held her until she drifted off to sleep. Unable to bring himself to leave her side, he stayed. Savoring their time together, he closed his eyes and drew her closer.
12
Roman
When Roman arrived back at the lab it was four in the morning, and everyone was asleep. Having missed the evening meal, his stomach growled in protest. He checked the fridge and grinned. On the top shelf, he found a tumbler bearing his name. He removed the tumbler, jabbed a straw through the slotted lid and finished his drink in two gulps.
He moved to the lounge and fiddled with the radio until he found a soothing classical music station to help him relax. Stripping down to his underwear, he eased himself into his recliner, and drew a fleece blanket around his shoulders.
In the background, Seth and Alex snored. Gabriel stirred. Anxious to get to sleep, Roman pulled the blanket over his face and finally dozed off.
He woke with a start. The blinds, usually kept closed to darken the room, were wide open, letting in unwanted sunshine. Cursing the light streaming inside, he covered his burning eyes with his forearm to block out the sun and waited for his eyes to adjust to the light. A few seconds later, he slowly uncovered his eyes.
Crawford stood before them and cleared his throat. “A serious matter has come to our attention. Your test results….” He glanced at Doc. “We’ve discovered a problem with the program.”
His men exchanged uneasy glances.
Grace! A sick feeling settled in the pit of Roman’s stomach. “What kind of problem? The formula’s working, right?”
Crawford winced. “It’s working, but not quite as expected.”
Gabriel flew to his feet. “Stop the bullshit and get to the point.”
Four sets of eyes grew dark, then turned blood-red.
Crawford wiped sweat from his brow and slipped his trembling hands into his lab coat pockets. He swallowed hard. “You’re becoming mortal. But there’s a slight problem.”
“A slight problem?” Roman’s gut churned as he awaited the bad news. From the silent tension that sucked the air out of the room, he knew his men expected to hear the same fate.
“As you’re all aware, the project was the first of its kind anywhere in the world. There was no precedent. We ventured into unfamiliar territory…” his voice drifted off, as if considering the gravity of the unfolding tragedy.
“Don’t stop now. Spit it out,” Roman shouted.
Crawford’s right eye twitched. “Instead of aging gradually as humans, your aging process is accelerating. It’s nothing that can be seen by the human eye. The changes are taking place internally—beyond our control.”
“Explain accelerating,” Gabriel demanded.
“Explain beyond our control,” Alex shouted.
Doc Peters stepped forward. “It means the program will be terminated much sooner than anticipated,” he answered in a low, apologetic voice.
Terminated? Dread crashed down on Roman. “Terminated how?”
“Since we’ve encountered a problem with the formula, we need to run more tests and monitor each of you more carefully. In order to expeditiously treat any possible discomfort or further adverse effects, we ask that you limit your time away from the institute.” Crawford uneasy gaze swept from his assistant to Roman. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” Gabriel roared. “You’re sorry? We trusted you.” He lifted the end table next to his recliner and hurled it across the room. It flew into the wall, knocking down pictures, sending glass shards bouncing up from the tile floor.
Roman had always reined in the impulsive, hot-headed Gabriel, but today he didn’t give a damn. He let Gabe go—gave him free rein. Perhaps, the doctors needed a glimpse of his most deadly and frightening warrior.
The doctors paled and stared at Gabriel in wide-eyed terror.
Roman smelled fear. It was delicious and it terrified him. Primal urges resurfaced. He wanted to kill. He craved Crawford’s blood. Now the hunger, the need to feed became overpowering. He averted his gaze to avoid focusing on the pulsating jugular in the doctor’s neck. Some people just needed to die.
Alex jumped up. His eyes turned black. “Give me one good reason why you think you deserve to live!”
“What went wrong?” Seth asked, worry sounding in his voice.
Perspiration ran down Crawford’s temples and cheeks. “Perhaps changes to the formula.” He offered a tentative shrug. “Not being monitored closely enough. We’re not sure.”
“We thought you knew what the hell you were doing!” Gabriel bellowed.
Fear radiated from Crawford and hovered over the room like a storm cloud. “Gabriel, please try to understand,” he pleaded, his palms together in a praying position. “My staff is working diligently to correct the problem. Unfortunately, at this time, we’re not very optimistic.”
Doc stepped forward. “Be assured everyone involved with the project is doing everything within our means to resolve the situation. Right now, we’re going to gradually introduce real blood into your diet while we continue to test the formula. During this time, we will make each of you as comfortable as possible.”
Veins stood out in Gabriel’s neck. “Comfortable? What the hell is that supposed to mean? Comfortable until we die?”
Roman realized his nights of seeing, holding, and loving Grace were coming to an end. “How much time do we have?” he asked, his voice breaking.
“A few weeks perhaps,” Crawford answered, barely above a whisper.
Rage caused Gabriel’s fangs to drop. He pushed aside carts and coffee tables to get at the doctor. Grabbing Crawford by his lapels, he pinned him against the wall. “That’s a hell of a lot longer than you’ll have after I tear you limb from limb and feast on your miserable, fucking blood.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Anyone else getting hungry?”
Color drained from Crawford’s face. “Please. Please Gabriel, try to calm down. We understand your anger. Roman?” His voice jerked up an octave and his wide-open eyes searched the room. “Do something. Stop him.”
Before Gabriel’s anger spun completely out of control, Roman stood. “Stop!”
With blood-red eyes, Gabriel glanced at him. He snarled and dropped Crawford to the floor in a quaking heap. “You don’t understand shit. If you really understood my anger, you’d know better than to piss me off.”
The doctor picked himself up, slowly backed away, and straightened his lab coat. “You need to believe me; every effort is being made to save you. Don’t interpret it as a death sentence.”
“Maybe they’ll find a cure,” Seth said, hope showing in his eyes.
Gabriel zipped in front of Seth; he shoved him back in his recliner and leaned over him. “What the hell’s your problem? Can’t you tell we’re screwed?”
Gabriel was right. They were indeed fucked. But instead of directing his anger at Crawford—where it belonged—he took it out on Seth, who not only feared Gabriel, but worshipped him.
“That’s enough,” Roman bellowed. “Leave him alone.”
Attention shifted to Roman. A powerful silence followed. “Seth isn’t to blame for this fucking debacle.”
Looking remorseful, Gabriel shook his head. “Roman’s right. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He reached for Seth’s hand and pulled him up. “I’m sorry, man.”
“We’re going to make sure you get through this setback unscathed. The entire staff is at your disposal twenty-four seven. If there’s anything you need. Anything. You only need to ask,” Doc added.
A beeping sound halted further discussion. Crawford glanced at his watch. “I need to go. I have a meeting.” He hurried toward the door.
Gabriel gave chase. “You’re not going anywhere.” He lifted Crawford by his lapels, again. “If you take one step out of that damn door, the only meeting you’ll be having is with an undertaker.”
“Let him go, Gabe,” Roman shouted. “Killing him won’t solve anything.”
> “Maybe not, but it’ll sure make me feel a whole lot better,” he answered with a growl.
The program’s failure hit Roman’s hope for mortality like a tornado spinning out of control. He raked his fingers through his hair. “I need to call the Elder Council to let them know we’re done. The program failed.”
“Can you hold off making that call? Give us a little more time to test a new formula,” Crawford begged.
“How long?” Roman asked, hoping to hear an answer that would satisfy not only the Elder Council, but his team, as well.
“A week or two.”
“Wrong answer.” Gabriel lunged at Crawford.
From behind, Roman grabbed his warrior’s shoulders. “No.”
Gabriel struggled to free himself from Roman’s hold, but failed. “Let me at him.”
“I can’t let you do it. How about we take a walk? Get out of here. Clear our heads and come up with a plan.”
“Screw you.” Gabriel jerked his shoulders away and balled his hands into tight fists. “This isn’t over, Crawford. And don’t think for one fucking minute it is.” Instead of hitting Crawford, he punched the white, tiled wall. The impact shattered four tiles, sending porcelain splinters to the floor. Gabriel studied his bloodied knuckles and stormed out of the lounge. Seth followed.
He shouldn’t have stopped Gabriel from beating the bloody bark off Crawford. Hell, he wanted to do the deed himself. He stared at the door, listening to heavy footsteps echoing in the hallway.
“Roman?” Crawford cleared his throat.
He shook his head and held up his hand. “Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it.” If Crawford uttered one more word, Roman feared he would rip the man’s head right off his shoulders. He clenched his jaw. “Didn’t you mention you had a meeting? I suggest you hurry before unseen circumstances prevent you from keeping that appointment.”
Crawford locked gazes with Roman. His eyes grew wide and he backed away. Exercising great caution, he opened the door and looked both ways before leaving the room.
The Ortega Project Page 10