Deeper than the Night - By Amanda Ashley Page 0,73
with the fact that it was only another two hours. He could endure it for that long. He had to endure it, for Kara's sake.
He tried to focus his thoughts on a way to escape. He needed to think, to plan. He had to find a way to get Kara away from this place before it was too late.
But try as he might, he couldn't concentrate, couldn't think. His skin felt tight, his blood ran hot hot with pain and rage. Hot with the ancient need to hunt, to destroy his enemies. To taste their blood upon his tongue.
Vampire . . .
He turned his face toward the wall, troubled by the images the word conjured in his mind. He had written about vampires for years. Perhaps, in some vicarious way, he had been living out his own suppressed desires through the lives of his characters. Perhaps the men of ErAdona would never be free of the innate urge to drink the blood of their enemies.
Hands clenched, he stared into the sunlight, hoping its heat would burn the hate and the anger from the depths of his soul.
But the pain only fueled his rage. Barrett would pay, he vowed. Pay for the fear and pain he had caused Kara. Pay for the pain that he himself was suffering, for the indignity of being strapped to this metal table. Oh, yes, Barrett would pay!
Alex? Alex, can you hear me?
Kara's voice, soft and sweet, filled with concern. It washed over him like cool water, easing his pain, smothering his anger.
Alex? Please answer me if you can.
I hear you, Kara.
Are you all right?
He took a deep breath. Yes.
I told Barrett the sun was dangerous for you. Has he done anything to protect you from, it?
Not yet. Tomorrow . . . tomorrow he wants to do . . . to do some sort of test.
A test? What kind of test?
Can't explain now. . . He took a deep breath, his hands clenching and unclenching as he struggled against the thick leather straps that bound his wrists to the table. But he was weak, so damn weak.
Alex?
So . . . tired. . . try not to worry . . . will get you . . . out of this . . . promise . . .
Alex, I love you.
Love you . . .Love you, love you. He repeated the words over and over again. It was his last thought before he surrendered to the darkness of oblivion.
Shortly before eleven o'clock the next morning, the heavy cover rolled into place, shutting out the sun's blinding light.
Alex sighed with relief, feeling the tension drain out of him as the room grew blessedly dark. The pain in his flesh receded almost immediately. Never before had he been exposed to the direct rays of the sun for such a long period of time. It might take days, perhaps weeks, for his body to regain its full strength.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Perhaps now he would be able to formulate a plan of escape.
He was aware of Barrett beside him, fiddling with the IV bottle, and he wondered what drugs the doctor was giving him along with the glucose and saline.
He'd been here for three days, Alex thought wearily. Surely the longest three days of his life. In that time, Barrett had drawn copious amounts of blood, taken urine samples, examined Alex from head to foot. This morning, the doctor had cut a small sliver of tissue from the ridged flesh on his back. The pain of the scalpel on the sensitive skin over his spine had been excruciating, and the only thing that had kept him from screaming had been the thought of the revenge that would be his once he'd attained his freedom.
"Remarkable," Barrett said. "Simply remarkable."
"What's remarkable?" Kelsey asked.
"The similarities between humans and this alien." Barrett laughed with real amusement. "All these years, Hollywood and the tabloids have imagined aliens as intellectually superior to us, but physically inferior. They've always been depicted as diminutive creatures with scrawny arms and legs and huge soulful eyes, when, in reality, their appearance is almost exactly like ours."
"Yeah, except for that funny looking leathery strip on his back."
"Hmmm, yes, that is odd. But that seems to be the only aberration. Two arms, two legs, with the requisite number of fingers and toes. Very humanoid."
"Oh, I almost forgot. Phillips says he needs more blood."
"So soon? What's he doing with the stuff, drinking it?" Barrett laughed, amused at his own humor.