The Ortega Project

by Linnea Alexis

  Crawford blocked the doorway. “In that case, I’m sure you won’t mind showing me the contents.” He slammed the door shut and strode toward him. “Open the damn box.”

  His pulse pounding in his temples, Doc stood his ground. The confidential information inside was his property. He would protect his vampires with his life, if need be.

  “Give it to me!” Crawford reached for the box.

  Adrenalin pumped through Doc’s veins. He dropped the box on the floor behind him and stood next to his desk. Hating confrontation, he usually avoided it. But this time he would not back down. Left with no other option, he prepared to fight.

  When Crawford rushed him, Doc grabbed a large textbook from his desk and whacked his former boss across the side of his head. Crawford fell to his knees. Doc picked up the box and opened the door. From behind, Crawford grabbed Doc’s shoulders, holding him back, preventing him from leaving.

  Doc held the box close to his chest. With his boss behind him, he backed up hard and slammed his boss against the door jamb several times. When Crawford slid down the jamb and landed in a heap on the floor, Doc darted for the exit.

  Before he reached the door, an arm hooked around his neck from behind and began choking him. Crawford’s breath chilled the side of his face. “Drop the fucking box!”

  The choke-hold tightened. Doc fell forward, about to collapse.

  The outside door flew open.

  Gabriel charged in. “Release him!”

  Crawford released Doc and dropped him to the floor.

  Gabriel pinned Crawford to the wall with one hand.

  With the wind knocked out of him, Doc struggled to stand. He stretched out his arm. Gabriel grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.

  “Get the hell out of here while you’ve got the chance,” he yelled at Doc and tossed him keys to the SUV.

  Doc pocketed the keys. “I need to make sure I haven’t left anything behind.”

  “Go ahead and check, but be quick about it.”

  Still weak and out of breath, Doc’s body trembled. He slid the box filled with confidential data across the floor toward the exit. With Gabriel to protect him, it was safe to double-check the file cabinets, book shelves, and desk drawers for anything he may have missed.

  “I thought we had an agreement that you’d stay away from the institute,” Crawford said to Gabriel.

  “I never agreed to shit. I’m only here to make sure nothing happens to Doc. Once he’s out of here, with any luck, you’ll never see me again.”

  Crawford’s eyes shifted to an alarm lever on the wall near the exit.

  Gabriel took notice. “Don’t even think about it. You seem to have forgotten my warning not to piss me off,” he said and bared his fangs. “And now I’m pissed.”

  After verifying he’d left nothing of importance behind, Doc carried the second box past Gabriel, who still held Crawford against the wall, and hurried outside.

  41

  Roman

  Roman awoke, in his underwear, lying on a thick mattress in the middle of the floor. How long had he been asleep? He squinted, trying to focus his blurry eyes on his surroundings. The room was small, approximately nine feet square, with wall-to-wall plush, gray carpeting. Black, velvet drapes covered the single window, blocking out any trace of daylight from seeping inside.

  His mind drew a blank. Nothing looked familiar.

  “Where am I,” he shouted.

  His stomach growled. The last time he woke up this hungry, he was a— impossible. Fragments of memory skittered across his brain and started taking form. No. He pushed himself from the mattress and staggered across the room to open the door. “Gabriel,” he roared into a long, narrow, carpeted hallway. “Gabriel!”

  Powerful hunger pains seized his body, sending it into spasms. He grabbed onto the door to stabilize his trembling legs. Damn. “God, no.” He covered his face with his hands and rested against the doorframe. It couldn’t be. If Grace found out what had happened to him, he would lose her for sure. And his son.

  “Where the hell are you?” Roman bellowed.

  Gabriel stormed in his direction, his lips twisted into a snarl. “Shut the fuck up. What are you trying to do? Raise the dead?”

  Roman lunged at him, but his weak legs failed and he reeled against the wall. “What did you do to me? You should have let me die.” Hunger sapped his strength, making him no match for Gabriel, who had little trouble pushing him away.

  “Damn you. I was only following your mate’s orders.”

  His growling stomach flipped and churned. “Grace asked you to do this?”

  “How many mates do you have?”

  Stunned, Roman shook his head. “Don’t bullshit me! Grace wouldn’t ask you to do this. Tell me the truth!” He balled his hands into fists and charged.

  Gabriel pushed him away with one hand and pinned him against the wall. “Now you listen to me, you ungrateful son-of-a-bitch. I hauled your sorry ass out of that hell-hole you call the Ortega Research Institute before Crawford got the chance to get to you.” He released his hold on Roman, letting him slide down the wall and land in a heap on the carpet. “When you want to talk, I’ll be in the kitchen.” Leaving Roman doubled over in pain, lying in the middle of the hallway; Gabriel marched through the darkened living room and into the kitchen.

  Debilitating spasms seized his gut, preventing him from standing. He managed to push himself into a crouching position. “Help me, Gabe. I need to feed,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  “Hold on. Be right there.” Gabriel opened and closed the fridge.

  “Hurry.”

  He returned and squatted next to Roman. “Drink up,” he said. “It’s fresh from the ER.”

  Roman tore a corner off the pouch, leaned his head back, and emptied the contents into his mouth. The pain subsided. “Thanks.”

  “Do you feel strong enough to walk?”

  “Yeah.”

  “First put on some damn clothes,” Gabriel said and retrieved a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt from the floor of the room Roman had just left, and handed them over. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” Roman dressed quickly. But when he took a step, his legs gave out and he stumbled against the wall.

  Gabriel offered a hand. Roman gripped it, and with Gabriel’s help, resumed his balance.

  Perspiration beaded on Roman’s forehead and upper lip. His legs wobbled.

  “Lean against me.” Gabriel put his arm around Roman’s torso and led him into the living room, to a long, leather sofa. The sofa faced a thirty-six inch flat television screen where some news channel’s talking heads provided background drone. He handed Roman a second bag of blood and sat on the corner of the couch-length coffee table.

  Roman tore the corner off the second bag and drank. He grabbed his stomach and doubled over.

  “Take it slow. Your system’s not used to full-strength blood. This isn’t the shit you were fed at the institute.”

  “You should have let me die.” Roman curled up and fell on his side, clutching his stomach. “Damn you.”

  Unfazed by his rant, Gabriel pulled up a dining room chair. Turning it backwards, he straddled it. “Ready for the truth now?”

  “Hit me.” Anxious to hear what events led to his becoming a vampire once again and living among them in a safe house, he grabbed the back of the sofa and pulled himself into a sitting position.

  “This is the way it went down. You were dying. Grace fell apart and begged me to turn you. Said your son needed you and she couldn’t live without you, or some shit like that. So I turned you—for Grace and your son.

  “When I realized you and Doc weren’t safe at the institute with Crawford poking around, I got the two of you the hell out of Dodge. Doc’s hiding out with us, but he’s kind of nervous being stuck here with a houseful of full-blown vampires.” He snorted. “But he doesn’t have anything to worry about. No one’s going to touch him. For now, we lie low until we come up with a plan.”

&nb
sp; Gabriel started pacing. “You and I. We can take care of ourselves. But we’ve got to protect your boy from hunters. And Doc knows too much about what went on at the lab. He’d be in real trouble if Crawford found him. Doc says he wants to continue the program.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea, but he has it in his head that with a little tweaking, the blood-formula will work. “So that’s it. Now if you’ve got a problem with what I did….” He pounded his own chest. “Come get me.”

  Were Roman strong enough, he’d have jumped off the sofa and ripped out Gabriel’s throat. But he wasn’t. Payback would come later, but right now he couldn’t do a damn thing, except hold his churning gut. “Where am I…exactly?”

  “In a safe house. I crashed here when I left the program.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  “A couple days.”

  “Where’s Grace and my son?”

  “At Deanna’s.”

  Roman glanced at the hallway that led to the bedrooms. “Who else lives here?”

  “Besides Doc and me, there’s this married couple, Mavis and Paulo. They’re vampires. Warriors. Good ones. Strong.” He nodded toward the hallway. “With all the racket you made, I’m surprised you didn’t wake them.”

  “Where’s Doc now?”

  “Scouting for a place to set up another lab. Actually, I believe he stays away as much as possible. Don’t think he trusts his roomies.” He let out a hardy belly laugh.

  “Who doesn’t trust us?” a man said, walking into the living room, his eyes fixed on Roman. The man stood at least six foot six, with dark hair and eyes. A tall, big-breasted redhead followed close behind. Both wore black.

  Gabriel made the introductions. “Roman, these are your new housemates, Paulo and his mate, Mavis. They’re good … er … people.” He chuckled, so did the couple.

  “No seriously, Gabe, who doesn’t trust us?” Paulo repeated, his face losing its smile.

  “Doc. But trust probably isn’t strong enough word. The guy’s scared shitless.”

  More laughter. The male half of the couple seemed friendly. Mavis, more cautious. Her eyes studied Roman.

  Paulo put his arm around Mavis’s waist and after more pleasantries; opened the drapes slightly and peeked outside. “It’s almost time. The sun will be gone soon.” He grabbed Mavis’s hand and sauntered past Roman. “You’ve been the topic of most of the conversations around this place. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  Mavis smiled and wiggled her fingers at Roman and followed her mate down the hallway.

  Great. He was back living with a bunch of vampires. It would have been better for Grace if he had died. That way, she could honestly tell everyone that her baby’s father died from a rare blood disease. Now he was a monster again. One of the damned, eternally cursed. “Leave me alone,” he growled at the hovering Gabriel.

  “No can do. I sired you, which makes you my responsibility. Right now, my job is to oversee your transformation. I need to make sure you’re fed and don’t do anything stupid.”

  Roman clenched his teeth. Damn! Like it or not, he was now bonded to Gabriel. Did Grace realize the consequences of asking Gabriel to turn him? Did Gabriel honor his promise to keep her safe? “How’s Grace?”

  “As well as can be expected under the circumstances. She wants to see you, but that’s not going to happen until you’ve gotten over your cravings. It’s too risky to let you anywhere near her when you’re this hungry.”

  * * *

  Roman

  * * *

  The next few days were sheer hell. Roman felt like a prisoner in the one-story, four bedroom house in Riverside County. Located in Lake Elsinore, the safe house stood at the opposite end of the infamous Ortega Highway.

  Gabriel and Doc guarded him in shifts. During the evenings, Gabriel kept watch. When Roman slept during the day, Doc took over. Each made certain his hunger wouldn’t overpower him, and fed him at four hour intervals. As ravenous hunger and stomach cramps subsided, he was gradually allowed contact with the outside world.

  His first contact—Grace. His fingers shook when he hit speed dial.

  “Roman, is that you?”

  Hearing her say his name was overwhelming. The last time they’d spoken, he was near death. “Yes, Sweetheart.” His voice faltered as he pushed back tears threatening to spill. “I miss you.” Silence broke out at the other end of the line. Had she hung up? “Grace?”

  “When can I be with you?”

  42

  Roman

  A month later, when Roman’s hunger subsided, he was allowed to visit Grace.

  He bounded up the stairs to her apartment. Waiting in the doorway, wearing a pink button-down blouse and blue jeans, was the most beautiful woman in the world, cradling their tiny son in her arms.

  As he reached for her, emotion choked away his words.

  “Oh, Roman.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

  Between them, Christian wriggled, forcing them to step away from each other.

  Roman stared at his son’s perfect face. The infant opened his large, brown eyes, drawing a gasp from Roman. His son looked like a miniature of himself. Through tear-filled eyes, he touched Christian’s silky cheeks. “Thank you, babe.” He stared into Grace’s eyes. “He’s beautiful, perfect.” He raised an eyebrow. “Fangs?”

  She shook her head. “No fangs. Here, hold him.” She supported the back of their son’s neck and handed him over.

  Enveloping his son in his large hands, Roman admired his tiny child. “He’s light as a feather.” Christian met his father’s stare and belched.

  They burst into laughter.

  “A man after my own heart,” Roman joked.

  Grace pulled the burp rag from her shoulder and wiped their son’s mouth. “Follow me. I want to show you where he sleeps.” She led the way into their shared bedroom, where his blue bassinette stood next to her queen size bed.

  One day, Roman vowed to himself, they would live in their own home and Christian would have a room for himself. Still cradling his son, he sat on the edge of the bed, unable to pull his gaze away from the life Grace and he had created. Lucky wasn’t a word that came even close to describing his emotions. He was blessed. Blessed to have a beautiful, normal child.

  “When you pulled up, I noticed you were in the passenger seat. Who was driving?” Grace asked.

  “Gabriel. He’ll be back to pick me up in a couple of hours.” Roman laid their tiny son on the bed. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “Guess he figured we needed some privacy.

  When Grace laughed, he realized how much he missed her laughter.

  “He figured right.” She sat next to him and slid her arm around his waist. “Happy?”

  Deciding to show rather than tell, he gently placed his son in the middle of the bed. He stood in front of her and held her hands in his. Dropping to one knee, he stared into her eyes. “I love you, Grace, and want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?” His voice shook.

  “How would that be possible?”

  “We can go to Vegas. Or someplace else where there’s no waiting period. We can do it. Say ‘yes’. Please marry me.” He had entertained the idea of marrying Grace ever since they became a couple. Repercussions? He’d worry about them later. Right now he needed a legitimate family, something he’d wanted for a long time.

  Her eyes widened and her jaw went slack.

  “Take your time. But hurry.” He chuckled. “While you think about it, how about we get comfortable?” He kicked off his shoes and climbed on the bed next to his son. When he reached for her, she joined them.

  For several minutes, they lay on the bed with Christian nestled between them. Roman rested on one elbow and with his free hand, played with Grace’s long, blonde hair—winding and unwinding strands around his index finger. Her hair felt like fine silk and shone like spun gold.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Her voice broke, heavy with emotion.

  He thought his heart would burst with joy. After kissing her deeply, he lay next to the two most precious people in his universe. He was the luckiest vampire in the world.

  43

  Grace

  In the darkened living room, Grace settled into her comfortable rocking chair and nursed Christian. Everything was peaceful. And wonderful. Perfect.

  Once Christian’s belly was full, he unhooked his mouth from her tender breast and kicked his little legs with surprising strength. Not having spent a lot of time around babies, she didn’t recall them being as strong.

  “Whoa, you’re getting to be such a big boy.” She lifted him to rest against her collarbone and patted his tiny back. His gentle breath tickled her neck. She kissed his pudgy cheeks. “I love you, sweetheart,” she whispered.

  As if he understood her sentiment, his lips curled upward. At that instant, unconditional mother-love became real. She returned his smile and the bond between mother and child solidified.

  His eyelids drooped and he showed her a big yawn. Maybe tonight, she’d finally get the good night’s sleep she craved.

  Roman’s visit couldn’t have come at a better time. She’d missed him dearly. Up until today, she had to settle for only his voice to comfort her during their separation. Some evenings they spoke on the phone as many as three times. But nothing substituted for his strong arms around her or the passion in his kisses. And soon they’d be husband and wife.

  Another big yawn from her son and his body went limp. “Off to dreamland, little guy.” After closing her nursing bra, she carried him across the cushy carpeting into their bedroom. With great care, she set him in his bassinette, and watched the product of her and Roman’s love, sleeping.