Only the graceful rise and fall of her chest told me I wasn't too late, that they hadn't laid Bauer out for a viewing. Still, the urge to compliment the mortuary cosmetician was almost overwhelming. Almost. I kept my comments to myself. Somehow I doubted my audience would appreciate them.
"Peaceful, isn't she," Carmichael's voice said from behind me.
"She's not restrained," I said as Carmichael walked around the bed and waved Tess out.
"The sides of the bed are high enough to prevent accidents."
"Not the type I'm thinking of. She needs arm and leg restraints. The best you can find."
"She's sleeping soundly. I'm not--"
"Restrain her or I leave."
Carmichael stopped checking Bauer's pulse and looked up sharply. "Don't threaten me, Elena. You've admitted to Doctor Matasumi that you can help Sondra, and you will, with no conditions. At the first sign of a violent reaction, I'll restrain her."
"You won't be able to."
"Then the guards will do it. I want her to be comfortable. If that's all I can do, that's good enough."
"Noble sentiments. Ever wonder how comfortable we are in the cell block? Or don't we count? Not being human and all, I suppose we aren't covered under the Hippocratic oath."
"Don't start that." Carmichael resumed her survey of Bauer's vital signs.
"You have your reasons for doing this, right? Good, moral reasons. Like everyone else here. Can I guess yours? Let's see ... discover unimaginable medical breakthroughs that will benefit all of humankind. Am I close?"
Carmichael's mouth tightened, but she kept her eyes on Bauer.
"Wow," I said. "Good guess. So you justify imprisoning, torturing, and killing innocent beings in the hopes of creating a human super-race? Where'd you get your license, Doctor? Auschwitz?"
Her hand clenched around her stethoscope, and I thought she was going to hurl it at me. Instead, she gripped it until her knuckles whitened, then she inhaled and looked past me to the guards.
"Please return Ms. Michaels to her--" She stopped and swiveled her gaze to mine. "No, that's what you want, isn't it? To be sent back to your cell, relieved of your obligations. Well, I won't do it. You're going to tell me how to treat her."
Bauer's body went stiff. One tremor shuddered through her. Then her arms flew out, ramrod straight. Her back arched against the bed, and she started to convulse.
"Grab her legs," Carmichael shouted.
"Restrain her."
Both Bauer's legs flew up, one knee knocking Carmichael in the chest as she leaned over to hold her down. Carmichael flew back, air whooshing from her lungs, but she rebounded in a second and threw herself over Bauer's torso. The guards jogged across the room and fanned out around the bed. One grabbed Bauer's ankles. Her legs convulsed, and he lost his grip, sailing backward and toppling a cart to the floor. The other two guards looked at each other. One reached for his gun.
"No!" Carmichael said. "It's only a seizure. Elena, grab her legs!"
I stepped away from the table. "Restrain her."
Bauer's upper body shot up, hurling Carmichael to the floor. Bauer sat straight up, then her arms flew up, windmilling in a perfect circle. When they passed her head, they didn't veer from their course to allow for the normal range of motion. Instead they went straight back. There was a dull double snap as her shoulders dislocated.
Carmichael grabbed the slender straps that hung from the bedsides. I was about to say that Bauer needed to be restrained with something ten times stronger, but I knew I'd already gone too far, turning this into a battle of wills that the doctor wouldn't forfeit. The guard who had grabbed Bauer's legs earlier took a tentative step forward.
"Get back!" I snarled.
I walked toward the end of the bed, ignoring Carmichael's frantic efforts to attach the bed restraints, paying attention only to the movements of Bauer's legs. As I passed the spilled cart, I picked up two rolls of bandages. I counted the seconds between convulsions, waited for the next one to subside, then grasped both of Bauer's ankles in one hand.
"Take this," I said, throwing one bandage roll at the nearest guard. "Tie one end to her ankle, the other to the bed. Don't make it tight. She'll break her own legs. Move fast. You have twenty seconds left."
As I talked, I tied Bauer's left leg to the bedpost, leaving enough room for her to move without hurting herself. Carmichael picked up another bandage roll from the floor and reached for Bauer's arms, ducking as one flailed awkwardly.
"Count off--" I began.
"I know," Carmichael snapped.
We managed to get Bauer's arms, legs, and torso loosely tied to the bed, so she could convulse without hurting herself. Sweat poured from her in musky, stinking rivulets. Piss and diarrhea added their own stench to the bouquet. Bauer gagged, spewing greenish, foul-smelling bile down her nightgown. Then she started to seize again, torso arching up in an impossibly perfect half-circle off the bed. She howled, closed eyes bulging against the lids. Carmichael ran across the room to a tray of syringes.
"Tranquilizers?" I asked. "You can't do that."
Carmichael filled a syringe. "She's in pain."
"Her body has to work through this. Tranquilizers will only make it harder the next time."
"So what do you expect me to do?"
"Nothing," I said, collapsing into a chair. "Sit back, relax, observe. Maybe take notes. I'm sure Doctor Matasumi wouldn't want you to ignore such a unique educational opportunity."
Bauer's seizures ended an hour later. By then her body was so exhausted she didn't even flinch when Carmichael fixed her dislocated shoulders. Around dinnertime we had another mini-crisis when Bauer's temperature soared. Again, I warned Carmichael against any but the most benign first-aid procedures. Cool compresses, water squeezed between parched lips, and plenty of patience. As much as possible, Bauer's body had to be left alone to work through the transformation. Once her temperature dropped, Bauer slept, which was the best and most humane medicine of all.
When nothing else happened by ten o'clock, Carmichael let the guards return me to my cell. I showered, put my clothes back on, and left the bathroom to find I wasn't alone.
"Get off my bed," I said.
"Long day?" Xavier asked.
I hurled my towel at him, but he only teleported to the head of the bed.
"Touchy, touchy. I was hoping for a more hospitable greeting. Aren't you bored with talking to humans yet?"
"The last time we spoke, you tossed me--handcuffed--into a room with a very pissed-off mutt."
"I didn't toss you in. You were already there."
I growled and grabbed a book from the shelf. Xavier vanished. I waited for the shimmer that presaged his reappearance, then launched the book.
"Shit," he grunted as the book hit his chest. "You learn fast. And you carry a grudge. I don't know why. It wasn't like you couldn't handle Lake. I was right there. If something had gone wrong, I could have stopped him."
"I'm sure you would have, too."
"Of course I would. I was under strict orders not to let anything happen to you."
I grabbed another book.
Xavier held up his arms to ward it off. "Hey, come on. Play nice. I came down here to talk to you."
"About what?"
"Whatever. I'm bored."
I resisted the urge to pitch the book and shoved it back on the shelf. "Well, you can always turn yourself into a werewolf. That seems to be the common cure for ennui around here."
He settled farther back on the bed. "No kidding. Can you believe that? Sondra, of all people. Not that I can't imagine a human wanting to be something else, but she must have a few screws loose to do it like that. It's bound to happen, though. All the exposure. Inferiority complexes are inevitable."
"Inferiority complexes?"
"Sure." He caught my expression and rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Don't tell me you're one of those who thinks humans and supernaturals are equal. We have all the advantages of being human plus more. That makes us s
uperior. So now you get these humans who, after a lifetime of thinking they're at the top of the evolutionary ladder, realize they aren't. Worse yet, they discover they could be something better. They can't become half-demons, of course. But when humans see what the other races can do, they'll want it. That's the rotten core of this whole plan. No matter how high-minded their motives, they'll all eventually want a piece. The other day--"
He stopped, glanced at the one-way glass as if checking for eavesdroppers, then vanished for a second and reappeared. "The other day, I walked into Larry's office, and you know what he was doing? Practicing a spell. Now, he says he was conducting scientific research, but you know that's a pile of horseshit. Sondra is only the beginning."
"So what are you going to do about it?"
"Do?" His eyes widened. "If the human race is intent on destroying itself, that's its problem. So long as they pay me big bucks to help, I'm a happy guy."
"Nice attitude."
"Honest attitude. So tell me--"
The door clicked and he stopped. When it whooshed open, two guards walked in, led by an older uniformed man with a grizzled crew cut and piercing blue eyes.
"Reese," he growled at Xavier. "What are you doing here?"
"Just keeping our inmates happy. The female ones at least. Elena, this is Tucker. He prefers Colonel Tucker, but his military discharge was a bit iffy. Borderline court-martial and all that."
"Reese--" Tucker started, then stopped, pulled himself upright, and turned to me. "You're wanted upstairs, miss. Doctor Carmichael asked for you."
"Is Ms. Bauer okay?" I asked.
"Doctor Carmichael asked us to bring you up."
"Never expect a direct answer from ex-military," Xavier said. He hopped from the bed. "I'll take you upstairs."
"We don't need your help, Reese," Tucker said, but Xavier had already hustled me out the door.
As I passed Ruth's cell, I noticed it was empty.
"Is Ruth okay?" I asked.
"No one told you?" Xavier said. "I heard you made a suggestion to Sondra before she flipped out."
"Suggestion? Oh, right. For Ruth to visit with Savannah. They let her?"
"Better yet. Come take a look."
Xavier headed down the row of cells.
CHAPTER 26
CRISES
"Doctor Carmichael wants her upstairs now," Tucker said.
Xavier kept walking, so I followed. I glanced in each cell as we passed. Armen Haig sat at his table reading a National Geographic. Leah napped in bed. The Vodoun priest's cell was empty. Had Matasumi "removed" him from the program? I shivered at the thought, yet another reminder of what happened when captives outlived their usefulness.
When we came to Savannah's cell, Xavier reached for the door handle.
"Don't you dare," Tucker hissed, striding toward us.
"Relax, old man. You'll give yourself a heart attack."
"I'm in better shape than you'll ever be, boy. You're not taking this ... young lady into that cell."
"Why? Afraid of what'll happen? Four supernatural beings in one place. Imagine the incredible concentration of psychic energy," Xavier said in a passable imitation of Matasumi.
Xavier pushed open the door. Savannah and Ruth sat at the table, heads bent together as Ruth drew imaginary lines on the tabletop. As the door opened, they jerked apart.
"Oh, it's just you," Savannah said as Xavier stepped inside. "What's the matter? Can't zap through walls anymore? That'd be a shame, losing your one and only power."
"Isn't she a sweetheart?" Xavier said, looking back at me as Ruth shushed Savannah.
Ignoring the older woman, Savannah stood and craned her neck to see behind Xavier.
"Who's with you?" she asked.
"A guest," Xavier said. "But if you're not going to be nice--"
Savannah dodged past him and looked up at me. She smiled. "You're the new one, the werewolf."
"Her name's Elena, dear," Ruth said. "It's not polite--"
"A werewolf. Now that's a real power," Savannah said, shooting a look at Xavier.
"Come in, Elena," Ruth said. When I did, she embraced me. "How are you, dear?"
"Surviving."
"I heard the most awful thing about that poor Miss Bauer--"
"So what happens when you Change into a wolf?" Savannah asked. "Does it hurt? Is it gross? I saw this movie once, about werewolves, and the muzzle came right through this guy's mouth and ripped his head--"
"Savannah!" Ruth said.
"It's okay," I said, smiling. "But we don't have much time. They're taking me upstairs." I glanced at Ruth. "Is every thing going well?"
Ruth looked at Savannah. A beam of pride penetrated her exasperation.
"Very well," Ruth said.
"Tucker's getting restless," Xavier said. "We should go."
"Bring her back some time," Savannah said, returning to her seat. "I'm out of Mars bars, too."
"And remind me what should compel me to do you these favors?" Xavier said. "Your boundless charm?"
Savannah gave a mock sigh, eyes twinkling with a cunning that was half-child, half-woman. "Fine. Get me some candy bars and I'll play Monopoly with you. Since you get so bo-o-o-red."
"I don't think that's such a good idea, dear," Ruth whispered.
"It's okay," Savannah said. "He's a really shi--crappy player. We can both beat him."
There was still something I needed to say to Ruth, but I had no idea how to do it without Xavier overhearing. I didn't dare ask to speak to Ruth in private. Even if I could, where would we find privacy in a glass cube?
"You're having trouble contacting Paige," Ruth said.
I jumped and glanced over at Xavier. He was still bantering with Savannah.
"He can't hear me," Ruth said. "Don't answer aloud, though. The spell only works for me. Just nod."
I nodded.
Ruth sighed. "I was afraid of that. I spoke to her yesterday, but when I tried this morning, I couldn't contact either you or her. Perhaps it's because I'm concentrating too much of my energy on the child. I had no idea how powerful Savannah would be. Her mother had great potential, but she never lived up to it. Too undisciplined. Too inclined toward ... darker things. With the proper training, this one could be--" She stopped. "But that's witch business. I won't bore you with it. Just please make sure you get her to Paige. After what I'm doing, Savannah must not be left on her own. As for renewing contact, try to relax, dear. It will come. If my energy returns, I'll communicate with Paige myself and get a message to you."
"--poker?" Savannah was asking me.
"Hmmm?" I said.
"Do you play poker?" she said. "Xavier says he won't play because we need a fourth person, but I think he's just scared he'll get beat by a girl."
"Good night, Savannah," Xavier said, ushering me out of the cell.
"Not the dark Mars bars," Savannah called after him. "They give me zits."
Xavier chuckled and pulled the door shut. Tucker still stood in the hall, arms crossed.
"So?" Xavier asked him. "See any unidentified flying objects? Did the walls come crumbling down?"
Tucker only glared. Xavier grinned and led me toward the exit.
"You don't believe that psychic energy explanation?" I asked as we walked. "What do you think it is? A poltergeist?"
"Pol--?" he started, then his lip curled. "Leah."
"She seems to think--"
"I know what she thinks." Xavier opened the security door. "Her poltergeist theory."
"There you are!" a voice called.
I looked to see Carmichael bearing down on us.
"You," she said to Xavier. "I should have guessed. I asked for Elena over twenty minutes ago."
"If it was an emergency, you'd have come yourself," Xavier said.
"It's an emergency now." She waved him off. "Go make yourself useful for once. Maybe you can help--"
Xavier vanished. Carmichael sighed and shook her head, then grabbed my elbow and propelled me to the elevator. As
we headed down the corridor to the infirmary, I caught a few snatches of conversation from behind a closed door. Soundproofing muffled the voices nearly to the point of obscurity, even for me. One sounded like Matasumi. The other was unfamiliar, male with undertones of a lilting accent.
"Vampires?" the unfamiliar voice said. "Who gave him permission to capture a vampire?"
"No one needs to give him permission," Matasumi said, his voice a near-whisper, though nobody except a werewolf could possibly hear through the soundproofed walls. "With Sondra incapacitated, he's starting to throw his weight around. He wants you to tell us where we can find a vampire."
"He" had to be Winsloe. And the second man? Bauer said the sorcerer was helping them find potential captives. Was this the elusive Isaac Katzen? I slowed to listen as we passed the door.
"You're wasting your time with this, Lawrence," the man said. "You know you are. You have to put your foot down. Tell him no. I gave him two werewolves. That's enough. We have to stick with the higher races. Werewolves and vampires are common brutes, driven entirely by physical needs. They have no higher purpose. No higher use."
"That's not entirely true," Matasumi said. "Though I agree that we should concentrate on the spell-casters, the werewolves are providing invaluable insights into the nature of physical and sensory power. A vampire might be useful for--"
"Goddamn it! I don't believe this! You're as bad as Sondra! Seduced by ..."
His voice trailed off as Carmichael propelled me down the hall. I pretended to stumble, giving myself time to hear more, but the voices hushed until I couldn't stall any longer and followed Carmichael into the infirmary.
There was no emergency. The spot where Bauer had injected herself was gushing a thick, stinking, blood-streaked pus and had swollen to the size of a golf ball, which threatened to cut off circulation to her lower arm. Okay, maybe that would normally seem like a cause for alarm, but in the metamorphosis from human to werewolf it was only one of several dozen potentially life-threatening hurdles. Again, I advised Carmichael against fancy medical cures. The transformation had to run its course. Simple, almost primitive medicine was the only solution. In this case, that meant draining the wound, applying compresses to reduce the swelling, and watching for temperature spikes. During it all, Bauer stayed asleep. She hadn't once regained full consciousness since collapsing in my cell. Nature had taken over, shutting the brain down to divert all resources to the body during this crucial period.