Spartan Resistance (18 page)

She looked down and icy coldness grabbed at her chest. The lower half of her dress was wet, soaked through by something dark. The excess dripped onto the floor, pooling and gleaming dully.

It was blood.

“Oh…oh my God,” she breathed. Shock was making her tremble.

Brenden grabbed her wrist. “It’s okay,” he said. “You’re fine. Most of it hit me.”

Something
had
hit his back, making him gasp. She remembered the sound he had made.

The door to the chamber burst open and bright light flooded the room, bringing the blood into sharp contrast. Nayara and Marley hurried in and shut the door.

“Camera is off,” Nayara said. “Quickly, get them off.”

Marley was unfolding a big biological hazard bag and Nayara was holding up two hospital gowns.

Mariana realized with growing horror that they feared the blood was contaminated.

Brenden was already moving fast, tearing off his jacket, his mouth pulling into a hard grimace of disgust. Marley held out the bag and he carefully dropped it inside, as the back of it dripped steadily.

“Everything,” Marley said shortly.

“Mariana, you, too,” Nayara said gently.

Mariana nodded. “Laszlo is still there.”

“No, he’s here already,” Nayara said and tapped her temple. “Rob just confirmed.”

Mariana tried to unfasten the dress, but her fingers were thick and uncooperative. Her mind was sluggish.

“Brenden, can you help her?” Nayara asked. “We can’t touch her.”

Brenden’s hands on her shoulders turned her to face him. He was naked from the waist up, his trousers hanging on his hips. He studied her. “Deep breaths,” he said gently. “It’ll stop the shaking.” Then he gave her a small smile. “Either I undress you or we cut it off you. Do you mind?”

Mariana shook her head. “Do it. I can’t feel my fingers.”

“It’s shock,” he said clinically. “Lift your arm for me.”

She held her arm out of the way and felt his fingers press against the antistatic fastener and slide downwards.

The wet, heavy garment sagged open.

“Lift it over her head,” Nayara advised.

“Got it.” Brenden lifted the dress and it rose over her face, bringing the blood closer. Mariana’s shaking increased and a breathless little moan escaped her lips. Then the disgusting garment was gone.

“Don’t look down,” Brenden told her. Then his hand slid under her chin and he lifted it, making her look at him. “You’re a contrary woman, aren’t you? Hold out your arm.”

She held out her arm, then the other as the gown was threaded onto her shoulders. Tugging told her it was being fastened.

Brenden was studying her, his black eyes bereft of any of the scorn or dislike she had seen in there for the longest time.

“Thank you,” she said. It sounded weak even to her.

“For what?”

“For keeping your promise. You took care of me.”

Surprise widened his eyes. Then she caught a glimpse of something that might have been pleasure, before it was all wiped away and his usual scowl returned. He began to strip off his trousers and Mariana turned away.

“Come quickly,” Nayara urged them, reaching for the chamber door.

“Showers and examinations for both of them,” Marley called. “Laszlo, too.”

* * * * *

Chronometric Conservation Agency Headquarters, Villa Fontani, Rome, 2265 A.D.

They were hustled into the medical area, past a crew of people carting buckets and wearing full hazard gear, who trooped into the arrival chamber as they left. The clean-up crew.

Mariana didn’t look down at her legs and feet until she was in the shower, with hot water pounding against her shoulders. By the time she had the courage to look, only a few pink rivulets remained, but it was enough to make her start trembling again.

There was a tap on the cubicle door. “It’s Deonne. I picked out some clothes from your room. They’re on the bench.”

“Thank you.”

“When you’re done with Marley, we’ll be in the command center. How does coffee sound?”

“Heavenly!”

* * * * *

Marley’s examination was thorough, but fast. “I’ve tested the blood and it is clear of any known pathogens,” she told Mariana. “But I didn’t like your reaction in the arrival chamber, so I’d like to check your vitals.”

“It was just shock,” Mariana assured her. “I’m over it now.”

“It’s the first time she’s been the target of public hatred,” Brenden said, making them both look around. He had stepped silently into the room and was leaning against the door with his arms crossed. He was back in his normal clothing—normal for Brenden.

“Privacy, Spartan,” Marley told him and waved him out of the room.

“I’ll go,” he said easily, not in the least upset at being ordered about by a human. “I just wanted to tell you the blood wasn’t human.”

“Bovine,” Marley said shortly. “I figured that out.”

Brenden straightened up from his lean. “Will you be long?” he asked.

“Five minutes,” Marley said. “Ten, if you stay here.”

“Going,” Brenden said. The door closed behind him.

Marley smiled at Mariana. “He’s a lamb under that gruff exterior.”

“Not with me.”

“Is that why you went out with Laszlo Wolffe instead?” Marley asked.

“Instead of Brenden? What makes you think I had that choice? That I even wanted the choice?”

Marley patted the bed. “Lie down for a moment, please.” It was a neat way of changing the subject. She prodded and listened and frowned for a few minutes, then nodded. “You’re fine. Have something to eat and drink very soon. It will help disperse the adrenaline. I believe they’re waiting for us in the command center. I’ll let you get dressed and meet you there.”

* * * * *

Deonne had picked out a pair of figure-hugging trousers from Mariana’s wardrobe. Mariana didn’t like to wear them very often, because they made her self-conscious about her hips and her rear. The pants were very unforgiving.

The top was not one she would normally pair with the trousers and she put it on reluctantly. It was short. Too short for the trousers and if she breathed hard or lifted her arms, a band of flesh showed. But she was stuck with the selection. She couldn’t wear a medical gown, which was the only other choice.

Likewise, the shoes were dark brown pumps with heels, not something she would consider wearing with either the trousers or the top.

Mariana sighed and bent forward from the waist and ran her fingers through her drying hair. There was no comb, no makeup and no jewelry. For the time of night and the situation, that was fine, but it didn’t help her feel comfortable as she stepped into the command center. Predictably, everyone gathered around the table looked up as she walked in.

Laszlo came over to her. “Heavens, you look edible,” he murmured. “The dress was stunning, but mmm….” He kissed her temple and Mariana shivered.

He studied her. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “I just need to eat.”

“Here!” Deonne called and placed a bowl with a spoon on the tabletop. She put a second one down. “Laszlo, you should eat, too.”

“Come and join us,” Nayara said from her usual place at the top of the table. “We were just going over the footage until you got here. We need to debrief you.”

“Me, too?” Laszlo asked diffidently.

Ryan raised his brow. “You’re a part of this now. You were as soon as you tackled the protester.”

Laszlo tackled that insane blonde woman?
 

But Ryan was still speaking. “The world watched you side with vampires. I don’t know if that is what you intended, but that is how it will be interpreted. You will need our support, going forward.”

Laszlo stood in the middle of the open area between the door and the big table, considering. “I don’t mind being thought of as pro-vampire. It’s a novel concept, to be considered political at all. I just…I know you people have major issues beside a group of fanatical protestors. I don’t want to intrude.”

“You are invited, not intruding,” Nayara said.

“Besides, we’ve already checked you out six ways from Sunday,” Brenden growled. “Get your ass over to the table and eat, will you already? Let’s get this mess over and done with.”

Laszlo seemed amused rather than annoyed at Brenden’s irascible mood. He moved to the table and Mariana sighed with relief and picked up the bowl. She was starving.

Then she saw the images spread in panoramic display across her end of the table and put the bowl down slowly. “Oh….”

“Brenden,” Deonne snapped.

“Sorry.” He reached to shut down the frames.

“No, let me see them,” Mariana said quickly.

Brenden shrugged and left them in place.

Mariana held her bowl out of the way and studied the pictures. Someone took the bowl from her and she murmured her thanks.

There were dozens of images, all taken from various angles and attitudes, which gave an almost complete three-sixty view. All of them had been taken within seconds of each other. Someone had arranged the images in approximate chronological order.

It was odd seeing herself in that context. She was talking to the media and their lights were bathing her and Laszlo, who was watching her speak. Brenden was behind them. He was already looking up the stairs, alerted by something neither of them had heard or noticed.

The woman that had launched herself at Mariana looked just as untamed in the photos as she had when Mariana had glimpsed her. The woman didn’t seem to care who she mowed down in her effort to reach Mariana. Her feet were barely making contact with the steps and her whole body was leaning forward, straining to make contact.

There was something in her hand. Something silver.

“What is she holding?” Mariana asked, tapping the image.

Brenden reached behind him, to pick up something from the desks lining that side of the room. Then he turned and tossed whatever-it-was. It glittered in the light from the table display and the lights overhead, as it turned in the air.

Mariana flinched as it came toward her.

There were six vampires standing round the table, not counting Brenden. But it was Laszlo who threw his hand out and snatched the thing out of mid-air. He held it up as he had caught it and cleared his throat. “Bit sharp to be tossing around like that.”

“Everyone heals, here,” Brenden said and shrugged.

“Remind me to say that next time one of you lies bleeding on my surgery table,” Marley said.

“What does it matter?” Brenden said. “He caught it.” He shook his head. “Christ on a pony! Everyone is so keyed up. It’s not like we haven’t been accosted at a big public event like this before.”

“Only this time they targeted humans,” Nayara said sharply.

“Why don’t you go and check the feeds for more up-to-date news?” Ryan told Brenden.

“I’ve got someone doing that,” Brenden said dismissively.

“It wasn’t a suggestion.” There was ice in Ryan’s voice.

Mariana felt the same surprise that made Brenden’s face sag in shock. He looked at Ryan, who stared steadily back. Silently, Brenden turned and walked out of the room, by-passing his office.

Nayara moved toward the door as if she intended to follow him, but Ryan caught her hand and shook his head. “Not yet,” he said quietly.

She returned to the table, her expression troubled.

Laszlo cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he said to everyone in general. He flipped the silvery object in his hand over a few times, then up into the air and caught it. It was an acrobatic movement that made Mariana smile as he held the thing out to her. But next to him, Christian was frowning.

Mariana looked at the silver object before picking it up. There was a faux-wood handle and jutting from it was a long, thin spike. It looked like an antique icepick, except that the silver tine had a curve to it. It wasn’t curved enough to call the thing a hook, though. The curve was very flat, almost not there. The point looked sharp, the sort of sharpness that came from micro-millimeter honing.

She reached out for it slowly. “It looks lethal.”

“It’s meant to be,” Laszlo said.

“What is it?”

“No one here has ever seen anything like it,” Christian said, speaking for the first time. “I thought I had seen every sort of blade and point used in combat, but this is new. If she had managed to jab that point in, then pulled sideways or backwards, it would have done incredible damage. The inside of the curve is sharpened, too.”

“And that doesn’t remind you of anything?” Deonne demanded, looking around the table.

Silence greeted her. She shook her head a little. “It must be because you’re all too close. Too subjective.”

Nayara leaned forward. “We’re not following you, Deonne.”

“No, I can see that.” She looked around the table. “Every time I get kissed, I’m flirting with a smaller version of this thing.” She glanced at it. “It’s a scaled up edition of your incisors. They used it to make a point. If she had reached Mariana, the point would have been very graphic indeed.”

“And deadly,” Marley added, leaning over Mariana’s shoulder to look at the spike in her hand. “Which is the point, I suppose.” She grimaced. “Sorry, that was not meant as a pun.”

Deonne’s expression was grave. “The symbolism wouldn’t have been lost on anyone there, including the media. I think we all owe Laszlo a huge thank-you.”

“We’re looking for a way to demonstrate our thanks,” Nayara said quietly.

“May I?” Christian asked, stretching out his hand toward Mariana.

She was more than happy to give the tine to him. She rested it on his palm and he drew it closer. Rob moved in next to him and they bent over it, turning it and examining it.

Mariana looked down at the images. The next few explained far more thoroughly than words what Laszlo had done to earn the thanks they had just spoken of. As Brenden had stepped in front of Mariana, Laszlo had raced forward,
into
the woman’s trajectory. He had met her halfway, throwing his arms around her and using his bodyweight and inertia to bring her down to the ground.

As formally dressed guests backed away or even turned and ran, Laszlo struggled with the woman, using his legs and body to hold her down. The image that held Mariana’s attention the longest was the one with Laszlo gripping the woman’s hand that held the spike, as she tried to drive it into his shoulder.