Blood Debt - By Tanya Huff Page 0,98

you believe that speed. From anyone else in this game that would've been a single!"

His attention on the television in the other room, Sullivan crumpled the empty saline bag and shoved the IV stand aside. It hung, suspended for an instant at forty-five degrees and then crashed to the floor, the noise all but drowning out the enthusiasm of the sportscaster.

Kicking the stainless steel pieces out of his way, Sullivan stomped out of the room and cranked up the volume until the sound began to distort.

"What are you looking so happy about," he snarled as he returned to the bed. "You an Oakland fan?"

"Not likely." Unaware that he'd been looking any?thing but pained-the needle had been roughly yanked from the back of his hand and the bandage applied with bruising pressure-Celluci winced as the crowd at the Kingdome responded to a double play and the television speakers squealed.

"Then what?" Sullivan's eyes narrowed as a second of silence led into a commercial, the sales pitch almost deafening in comparison. Grumbling under his breath, he went back to the TV and turned the volume down. "You thought someone'd notice that, didn't you? Maybe complain about the noise." Callused fingers closed on the end of Celluci's nose and twisted. Carti?lage cracked. "Don't ever think I'm stupid."

Blinking away involuntary tears, Celluci snorted, "Hadn't occurred to me." If truth be told, nothing much had occurred to him for most of the evening. It might've been the blood loss, it might've been the residual effect of the sedatives but coherent thought took more effort than he seemed capable of.

"So why're you smilin', shit for brains?"

Except that he had to make the effort and he only had one source of information. If nothing else, he needed to find out more about his jailer. Celluci jerked his head toward the bowl of broth on the bedside table. "The doctor says you've got to feed me."

Deceptively gentle eyes narrowed. "Yeah, so?"

"You're either going to have to turn up the TV and risk attracting attention, or miss the game. Either way, I win."

"Maybe I just won't feed you."

"And make the doctor angry?"

That was clearly not going to happen. The bowl all but dwarfed in the curve of a huge hand, Sullivan grinned unpleasantly. "Open your mouth or I'll open it for you."

Confronted with violent death day after day, police officers coped by either ignoring the inevitability of their own death or by thinking about it so constantly it lost its mystery and became a part of life, like breathing. Choking on broth, Celluci realized he'd never considered drowning in consomme as a serious possibility.

He was still coughing and gasping for breath when Sullivan left the room, snarling, "You can piss later," as he slammed the door.

Struggling to keep from vomiting-if he didn't choke on it and die, he'd have to lie in it, and the second option thrilled him as little as the first-he gradually regained control of his body. Panting, each breath a little deeper than the last, he swallowed hard to discourage one last spasm of gagging.

When it was all over, he lay limp and exhausted, feeling like he'd just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. But he had a better idea of Sullivan's temperament.

And he had a plan.

Of sorts.

"Find anything?"

"Vicki, I'm a writer. I turn on my computer, I play a few games of solitaire, I answer my E-mail, and I write. Anything more complicated, I don't worry about." Frowning at the screen, Henry tapped his nails gently against the edge of the keyboard. "This is more complicated."

Vicki glanced up from an aggressive search of the filing cabinet and peered across the room at the moni?tor. "Looks like point and click to me," she growled.

"The whole thing's encrypted. I can't access any?thing without Dr. Mui's password."

"I don't see why the paranoid bitch can't keep a rolodex like everyone else," Vicki snarled, slamming shut one drawer and opening another. All she wanted were a couple of addresses, preferably one marked this is where we're keeping Michael Celluci, but failing that she'd settle for this is where the people in charge live and you can rip the location of Michael Celluci out of them.

With Vicki's anger beating against him in heated waves, Henry decided it would be safest not to re?spond-besides, she had a point, a rolodex would've been much simpler. I can't believe we're doing this. But it wasn't breaking into Dr. Mui's office that he was having difficulty with.

As much as he shared Vicki's concern over the