Blood Debt - By Tanya Huff Page 0,95

not. By the time Henry realized his mistake and remembered that Celluci was firmly entrenched on the side of not-willing-to-share, Vicki's fingers had closed around his shoulders. Over four-and-a-half centuries of experi?ence had no chance against the intensity of her rage. A fraction of a heartbeat later, he hit the floor, her thumbs hooked to rip the arteries on both sides of his neck, her teeth bared, and her eyes blazing silver shards of pain into his.

"Michael Celluci is mine."

There was no possibility of compromise in the words and only one possible answer, for he could not let her get away with intimidation. He was older. This was his territory.

"Trust me, Vicki, he's not my type."

If a soft answer had the potential to turn away wrath, a smart-ass response saved the situation from melodrama.

Vicki blinked, loosened her grip on Henry's throat, and sat back. "I could have killed you," she growled, her tone shading from anger to embarrassment.

"No." With her hands resting on either side of his neck, he decided not to shake his head. The emphasis might end up entirely misplaced. "I think we're past that, you and I."

"Ha! So I was right. I was right, and you were wrong."

He couldn't stop the smile. She was, after all, barely three years old in the night and this was one of those times it showed. "Yes, you were right." When she stood, creating a careful distance between them, Henry rose as well. "Celluci has always been yours, Vicki," he told her softly when they were eye-to-eye again. "If you doubt that, you do him a disservice."

Had she still been mortal, she would have reddened. As it was, she backed away until her calves hit the couch. "Yeah, well, that you consider him to be one of yours will no doubt thrill him all to bits." Since she was at the couch, she sat. "So let's have a look at those news programs Tony taped. Maybe we'll get a better idea of what's going on."

Emotional self-discovery had never been one of Vicki's strong points, Henry reminded himself as he picked up the remote. The prospect of eternity had cracked the protective shell she'd worn most of her life, but there were pieces remaining that still needed to be levered free. Celluci's problem, he acknowledged thankfully and turned on the television.

A Metropolitan Toronto Police officer had not been found tied to a bed in a North Vancouver clinic.

No one had been arrested for selling kidney transplants.

Red-gold brows meeting over his nose, Henry stopped the tape. "I don't understand," he said, more to himself than to Vicki. "I sent the police out to Project Hope."

Vicki's first impulse was to suggest that age had robbed him of persuasion, but June nights were too short for her to provoke another fight merely for the sake of pissing him off. "Then they didn't find him."

"He wasn't exactly well-hidden."

"Then he wasn't there."

"If he's been moved... " Henry let the sentence trail off. Vancouver was a very large city. He shud?dered at the sudden vision of Michael Celluci spending an eternity haunting the end of his bed.

"I'll find him."

"How?"

She stood, the motion fluid and predatory. "First, we make a few discreet inquiries and find out what actually happened last night at the clinic after we left. Then... " Her eyes glittered. "... we play it by ear. Or whatever other body parts we have to tear off to get an answer."

Typical, Celluci thought, craning his head to see the IV line that had been inserted into the back of his hand. Good doctors, evil doctors-none of them ever bother to mention what the hell they're doing to you. Like you haven't any right to know what they're fuck?ing around with. "Excuse me, but it's still my body."

"Yes, it is."

Startled, he swiveled his head around to stare up at the impassive face of the doctor. Then he realized he'd spoken that last thought out loud. Although earlier attempts indicated he wouldn't accomplish much, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to try and continue the con?versation. "Then would you mind telling me just what is it you're doing?"

"Replacing fluids." She packed the bag of blood away in the small cooler.

"You know there's a limit to how much of that stuff you can take out."

Dr. Mui snapped the cooler closed and turned to go. "I know."

"So there's a lab involved in this, too, eh?"

One hand on the door, she paused and gave him much the same look he could remember receiving from