On the Edge of Humanity

BY THE TIME WE ARRIVED at headquarters, the drug had waned. I didn't feel woozy, but just to be sure I stepped out of the van and took inventory of my senses. My legs weren't shaky and the fog surrounding my brain was gone. I gave myself the all clear sign and ran into the building through the heavy steel doors, directly to the elevator. I banged on the button until the door opened. I couldn't wait any longer. As the door closed, a hand slid around the edge, forcing it back, and my father stepped in. I stared at the panel of buttons, avoiding him. I guess it was his turn to yell at me, to tell me how disappointed he was that I ended up in a middle of a fight when he told me to stay with Dr. Vieira. I could hear all the grown-up words and military jargon he was about to unleash on me.

The door closed and the elevator began to move, climbing as if the gears were stuck, inching up slowly. He stared straight ahead with his hands clasped behind his back, not even looking at me. I stood still, shocked as silence filled the car. Now who was being childish?

The number three lit up indicating we were close to our destination. Then my father hit the stop button. The bell dinged for a few seconds and the loud, steady buzz stabbed my ears. I covered them when the car jerked to a stop. I closed my eyes, stilling the dizziness that suddenly surfaced. I hated small spaces.

"I want to speak to you before we go in," he said, his tone obstinate, his posture stiff.

"Um, can we do this out of the elevator?" Drops of perspiration beaded up on my forehead and my hands suddenly became clammy.

"We need to do this now," he said.

"Dad, please. I have to get out of here."

He jumped back.

I patted my cheeks, unsure if something odd peppered my face or my appearance changed to prompt his reaction. No, everything seemed normal except the sweat trickling down.

"You called me Dad." A smile split his face, stretching from ear to ear.

"I did?" I raised my eyebrows, surprised the word slipped off my tongue, as a drop of liquid dripped down the bridge of my nose.

He released the stop button.

"I'm sorry; I wasn't aware small spaces bothered you."

"There's a lot you don't know," I said, still panicked. I wanted to be more of a smart ass, but my phobia with small spaces kept me from clawing at him. I reminded myself I had plenty of time to break out my repressed daddy issues later-like an eternity.

The elevator door opened and I jumped out, the chilly air washing over me. I let out a deep sigh and leaned against the wall, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand.

My father followed. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

I shook my head, inhaled and pushed off the wall. We walked, not talking. The sound of our breathing vibrated with every step, echoing around us. We had at least ten minutes before we arrived at the first set of double doors. I dreaded the trek since he had plenty of time to wield his wrath on me.

"Sam is in bad shape," he said as his baritone voice echoed off the walls. "I want you to stay calm through the process. An elevated level of adrenaline can be dangerous for you as well as Sam. It can cause you to go into shock, then we can't extract your blood for him."

I swallowed hard. "He's still alive?" I stopped, waiting for confirmation.

"Um..." he said as he looked down at me.

My father was over six feet tall and I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze.

As if we were hardwired, I sensed he wasn't telling me something. I searched, looking for some hint, but all I could see was that his eyes had shifted a tint closer to silver.

"What are you not telling me?" I asked, blackness creeping in as my eyes shifted too.

"The human body has about six quarts of blood. Draining more than thirty percent causes a human's system to shut down, then death is eminent. Unlike humans, and as I explained the other day, those who carry the vampire gene have a little more time. But, how long, we haven't figured out. We know Patrick was taking blood from Sam in small vials over the past three days, until today when he started draining his system. I'm not sure how much blood Sam's lost, but his heart is barely beating."

He spoke as if he were my instructor in an Anatomy and Physiology class. After a couple of days with these vamps, I could probably get my medical license.

"You told me that already. You're leaving out something." I started biting my lip then tapped my foot.

He blew out a breath. "I'm not sure you'll...you'll...make it through either. Sam may need more blood than you can give him. And it's crucial that he receives your blood."

"What're you saying?"

"This procedure is dangerous for you. You'll be donating a lot of blood. While you're young and your system can probably handle it, your organs haven't completely developed. Your heart muscle is not strong yet. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Is that all you've got?" I balled both my hands into fists and glared at him. I hated him as much as I hated shedding my humanity. "Why didn't you tell me that before I made the change? Why didn't you tell me about all the risks? Wait. Your mission is more important than your long lost kids, right?" I started jogging, trying to get away from him, far away. What the heck did he mean about my organs not being developed yet?

"We knew this was a risk," he called out as I disappeared around a corner down another hallway.

I turned, and before I could speak, he stood in front of me, his eyes soft.

"No, you knew the risks. I didn't." I punched him, releasing some of my bottled up anger. "I'm not going to die and neither is Sam," I shouted.

"You don't know that," he replied. "And you don't have to shout."

I wanted to do more than shout. I wanted to rip out all the other emotions that I had stuffed down a black hole and sling them at him.

"And you do know?" I asked in a sarcastic tone.

"I have...special abilities that-"

"That what? Webb told me you can read minds, but that has nothing to do with you seeing the future, does it?"

I didn't know what he was trying to tell me. Could he see into the future? Was I going to die? I thought I had already by shifting my existence into this vampire world.

He shook his head. "I can't see into the future, but I can sense things."

"Then sense this." I stuck out my middle finger and ran. I didn't know what came over me. It was if someone were punching keys on a keyboard and hit the command for raise middle finger. I suspected that he was seething, but I didn't want to turn around to find out.

"Jo!" he shouted, his voice boomed and sent a shiver up my spine.

"I'm tired and I don't want to do this anymore," I said in a high-pitched tone.

Emotionally, I was tired. While there were some physical benefits to my new vampire body, my mind and emotions were still operating in the human realm. I was beginning to regret enlisting into the world of the undead.

I kept running. I wanted to get as far away from my father as possible. Besides, Sam was more important right now than arguing with him. I was grateful when the double doors opened and Dr. Vieira stepped out.

"Commander, we're losing precious minutes," the doctor said.

I didn't bother to turn around. I ran around Dr. Vieira and into the lab.

"Same room as last night," Dr. Vieira called out.

I made my way to the human changing room, as I thought of it, stopping in front of the closed door. I blew out a deep breath, trying to release my anger. I needed to be calm before I walked in. I grabbed the doorknob, then released it. My muscles tensed and my body began shaking. A slew of emotions coiled through me. A cramp in my stomach grabbed me, gluing me to the floor. What was happening to me? Maybe my father's senses were right. Maybe there was cause for concern. As I inhaled, trying to squelch the pain, a woodsy scent consumed me.

"Go ahead, Jo. Go in," my father said as he placed his hands on my shoulders.

His voice only made my body shake more, causing me to grind my teeth together. I was glad that my fangs were tucked in, otherwise they would've poked through my bottom lip. I didn't move.

He squeezed my shoulders. "You need to be calm."

No shit! I was trying, but his presence wasn't helping me.

"He's not in there yet," my father whispered.

His tone was calm, which only scared me. Since I had just flipped him the finger, I had thought he would've at least reprimanded me. But now wasn't the time to worry about my father and his emotions. Sam needed me.

I commanded my brain to lift my right foot, but I still couldn't move. I thought I had the courage. Tears burned my eyes. I didn't want to see Sam's lifeless body again.

My dad reached around me, grabbed the doorknob and twisted it to the right. Then he eased me in gently, pushing me until my feet moved. The room was the same only this time there were three IV stands instead of one. Alcohol seeped into my nostrils, which led me to believe the room had been sanitized minutes before I walked in.

"Jo, have a seat on the bed on the right," Dr. Vieira instructed.

"Where's Sam?" I asked as I sat down on the bed, taking in steady breaths, trying to still my shaking limbs.

"I'll wheel him in shortly. I need a sample of your blood first. I don't know what Patrick's blood did to you. So, for Sam's sake, I hope it's now clean of any drugs before we begin."

Oh no, not again. I prayed this was the last time I would be poked and pricked with needles, but something told me otherwise.

Dr. Vieira inserted the IV into my hand, and hooked up the bag. The clear liquid drained through the tube into me, the cold fluid sending a chill up my arm.

"Take a deep breath," Dr. Vieira instructed. "You need to relax. I need your heart to stop racing before I extract your blood."

I took another deep breath in, only this time through my nose. I released and repeated the process. After a few rounds, my heartbeat slowed and my body didn't shake anymore.

Dr. Vieira pulled a vial of blood from me, then left the room. My father walked up to me. He grabbed my legs and eased them up onto the bed.

"Lie back," he said.

I rested my head on the pillow.

"I'll be here the whole time, so don't worry."

I wasn't worried. He was the one who should be worried. Argh! I wanted to strangle him. My emotions were one gigantic rollercoaster ride when it came to my father, or maybe it was just vampire puberty in full bloom.

A few minutes passed before Dr. Vieira wheeled in Sam. I sat up and gasped as I gazed upon his frail and pale body.

"Steven, can you help? Let's move him from here to the bed."

Dr. Vieira and my dad lifted Sam from the stretcher and carried him to the bed. I jumped up but stopped. My IV prevented me from going too far. I desperately wanted to touch him, hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but he looked as if he were ready for the morgue. My heart sank and tears rolled down my cheeks. I sat on the bed helpless as Dr. Vieira inserted more needles and tubes into him.

Sam's hair was greasy, his arms had several puncture wounds from my evil uncle and his eyes were wrapped in shadows by the dark circles that surrounded them. I blessed myself and silently recited the Lord's Prayer.

Dr. Vieira finished hooking up all the equipment. I watched in horror as the heart monitor displayed a flat line. Did that mean...?

"Is he dead?" I asked.

"No, his heart is extremely weak," Dr. Vieira whispered.

I looked from the monitor to my father, but he was gone.

Dr. Vieira adjusted the drip on Sam's IV and wrote something on his clipboard. I sat on the bed staring at my brother. Was Sam going to make it? Would my blood do the trick? As I ran through all the questions in my head, my father walked back in carrying four stainless steel containers.

"Good. You're back. I need to see if Jo's blood results are complete. Let's just hope that your system is clean, young lady," he said, glaring at me.

Geez, what did I do? I couldn't help it if I wanted Patrick to pay for what he did to Sam. Whether he was vampire or human it didn't matter to me. As I thought about him, the words he spat at me when he mentioned he was still human-not for long- came roaring back. I didn't know what he meant by that, but I had a strange feeling that I was going to find out.

"Here's how this is going to work," Dr. Vieira said, pulling me from my thoughts.

Wow, that was quick. He wasn't gone that long.

"Since Sam has very little blood in him, I'll draw blood from you, just as I did last time. Then I'll transfer your blood over to Sam." He pointed to another IV on Sam's left arm. "I've determined through some loose calculations that he'll need about three pints. What that means is that as you fill one bag, you will need to drink one pint of your father's blood. We'll stop there at first and see how you feel and how Sam's system reacts."

Dr. Vieira slipped on some latex gloves, then prepped my right arm by placing a tourniquet on the upper part, patted a vein on my inner forearm and inserted the needle, just as he did a few minutes ago. Then he inserted the specimen tube into the holder and my blood started flowing through the tube down into the bag.

"I take it my blood is clean?" I asked.

Dr. Vieira nodded. "We're lucky."

An ember ignited in me. I didn't like his reference to we. Weren't Sam and I the lucky ones?

I lowered my head onto the pillow and within fifteen minutes my gums throbbed and the back of my throat burned. I sat up. My eyes had shifted and my fangs descended. I was getting used to the sudden split second of darkness when my eyes changed colors, but the fangs, well, they were going to take longer.

My father walked over to me and handed me a pint of his blood. There wasn't a straw or glass this time. I guessed the honeymoon was over. I opened the stainless steel container and began drinking. The burn slowly eased as the blood coated my throat. It seemed that the more my blood filled the bag, the stronger my thirst for the red, sticky stuff became.

As I took my last swig of the sweet and salty elixir, Dr. Vieira withdrew my bag of blood and hung it on Sam's IV pole. He readied the tube and the other instruments and my blood started flowing into Sam. Meanwhile, my father had added an empty bag so I could fill a second one. They were sure Sam would need at least two bags of my blood.

"Okay, the next thing I need to do is collect your bone marrow. I don't need much, but this part can be tricky." Dr. Vieira said.

"Um, why?" I asked.

"Bone marrow is essential in allowing your body to make new platelets, as well as red and white blood cells. Sam will need a small amount of it to help him build what he's lost," Dr. Vieira explained.

It sounded painful and his concerned expression gave me reason to be nervous.

"I'll inject a local anesthetic into your lower back, make an incision, insert the needle into your bone and withdraw the marrow. As a vampire, you should heal quickly as evidenced by your stab wound earlier today. Any questions?" Dr. Vieira asked.

Tons of them. Based on the concerned look on my father's face, he had a ton as well.

I shifted my gaze back to Dr. Vieira. "Just get this over with."

Time was running out and my patience was fading fast. I wanted to be a normal teenager again-as normal as I could be as a vampire. I wanted my brother back so that we could enjoy our brother and sister relationship. I wanted to hang out with my best friend Darcy, even though she could be annoying at times and I wanted to see Ben. I needed to make sure he was okay. I had been told he was fine, but I wanted to see for myself. A tingling sensation fluttered through me and I flinched.

"What is it?" Dr. Vieira asked.

"Huh?"

"Your pulse quickened."

"I'm fine," I said as heat rose, stinging my cheeks.

I didn't want to tell him I was thinking about Ben. Besides, I didn't know what to make of the sudden fluttering inside me. Hell, I didn't know what to make of any of this. I was confused about my new vampire body, about still having a heartbeat and a pulse. What did all this mean? I filed all these questions away for now.

The needle pricked my skin as if a bee had stung me and I flinched.

"It's just the anesthetic," Dr. Vieira said.

"It didn't hurt that much," I said, my voice laden with surprise.

"Good. If you feel the incision, let me know."

I resumed my fetal position as he instructed me to. I waited for the pain from the knife, but I didn't feel anything.

"How are you doing?" Dr. Vieira asked.

"Still no pain," I replied.

"Well, you might feel this," he said.

I turned my head slightly, caught sight of the long needle and I almost passed out.

"Head down," he commanded.

"Don't move. This is where it's critical you stay still or else Dr. Vieira could paralyze you," my father barked.

I froze at that statement. Wouldn't that be icing on the cake-a paralyzed vampire? Was there such a thing? I made a mental note to ask Dr. Vieira later.

A few minutes passed and I waited, expecting to feel a prick from the syringe as Dr. Vieira inserted it into my bone. I tried to think of anything other than that long needle. The only thing it reminded me of was Jonah and the horse needle, though that was small compared to the one Dr. Vieira was using.

"All set," Dr. Vieira said. "You can relax now."

I uncurled my body when Dr. Vieira spoke. When I turned, my father was sitting on the bed, sweat beaded on his forehead.

"You okay?" my father asked.

"I didn't feel much. A little pressure but that was it. What now?"

"We wait. We'll see how Sam's body reacts to your blood. It may take longer and Dr. Vieira may need more blood from you. You're doing great," he said as he released a deep sigh.

"Do you still think I'm going to die?" I asked.

"A dad can worry, can't he?"

I guess he had that right. I wasn't familiar with having a dad around so all this was new to me.

Dr. Vieira stepped out and my father rose from the bed. He grabbed a metal chair that was sitting next to the door, dragged it over, and sat down.

"We need to talk, young lady."

Oh boy. I didn't like his tone. I had a feeling about what was coming. He had me trapped too. I couldn't run this time if he pissed me off.

He dropped his head in hands and ran his fingers through his black shoulder-length hair. He raised his head and his eyes had shifted.

This can't be good.

"I know you're going through a lot of different emotions. You're in the heightened stages of vampire puberty. I know this is hard for you. I told you the other day that I didn't want this life for you and I wish I could turn back the clock, but that's not how life works. I lost both of you once and I don't want to screw this up again. I have a chance to get to know my daughter and possibly my son. So call me selfish if you want to, but don't ever, ever disrespect me again."

His silver gaze bored into me and his right cheek was twitching. I imagined he was biting the inside of it.

I wanted to pull out the tubes in my arm and claw at him. But something in his eyes scared me. I had a fleeting thought that if he wanted to, he would hurt me.

"Do you understand me, Jo?"

All I could do was nod. Besides, I was tired. As if my inner computer chip kicked in, opening the file on vampire puberty, a pool of emotions consumed me. Tears streamed down my face.

My dad grabbed my hand and squeezed it, which only caused the floodgates to open and I began sobbing.

"Shh. It's okay," he whispered. "This is hard for me too." He wiped the tears away from my cheek with his free hand. "We'll get through this."

He might get through this, but I wasn't sure if I would. I glanced at Sam then back at my dad.

As if he knew what I was thinking, he said, "I know you love your brother. I'm praying too."

My mind was swimming with questions. What happened if Sam didn't make it? Could I live an immortal life without him? What did the future hold? As if God were teasing me, giving me a taste of the future, Sam's body twitched.

"Let me up," I said.

"What's wrong?"

"Sam moved."

My father stood up and kicked the chair out of the way.

I rose, grabbed the IV pole, and walked the few steps over to Sam's bed. My father and I both stood over Sam examining every inch of his body, looking for movement. After a few minutes, nothing more happened. Maybe it wasn't God who spoke to me. Maybe the devil was playing a trick on me.

My father grabbed me and wrapped his arms around me. "I'm sorry," he said as he stroked my hair.

Now I was confused. He just reprimanded me and now he was telling me he was sorry.

"Why?" I asked as my head rested against his chest, his heart beating a steady rhythm.

He didn't answer. I pulled away and tears spilled down his cheeks. His emotions spoke volumes and I didn't need a verbal answer, at least not right now.

"We should get some rest. It's going to be a long few days," he said, walking over to the big, cushy chair in the corner.

I sat down on Sam's bed. I wasn't sleepy. I brushed back his hair with my fingers. Then I held his hand, stroking the back of it in rhythm with the heart monitor that beeped every few seconds. My eyelids started to close when Dr. Vieira walked in.

"No change, huh?" he asked. "Maybe the marrow will help." He inserted it into Sam's IV.

I had hoped that when Dr. Vieira injected the marrow we would see immediate results. But as time passed, nothing happened.

After about ten hours of waiting, pacing the floor and trying to sleep, I had the jitters. My heart beat rapidly as if I were on speed. I wasn't sure why. Was it from not sleeping? I wanted to stay alert in case Sam woke up, but his comatose state hadn't changed at all.

"Can I see Ben?" I asked while I nervously waited. He was now awake, according to Dr. Vieira.

The answer wasn't just no, but hell no.

"He's weak and needs rest," my father said.

My wonderfully irritating father was adamant about me staying in the room in case Dr. Vieira needed me, but the adrenaline running rampant through my veins was driving me insane, not to mention that the four walls of claustrophobia were closing in. Another hour of this and my father was going to have to commit me to a mental institution.

"Damon, should you give her a sedative?" my father asked.

I spun around, curious who Damon was. Then I remembered it was Dr. Vieira. I forgot when he had introduced himself over a week ago that he told me his first name.

"I can, but I'd prefer not to in case we need more of her blood."

"Jo, you have to relax," my father piped in.

"I can't. Why hasn't anything happened or changed?" I asked as I bit my nails. I hated biting my nails, but there wasn't anything else to do.

"He's improving. His heartbeat is stronger. It's going to take longer than it did for you. Remember, he lost a lot of blood," Dr. Vieira said. "We could try at least one more blood transfusion. It wouldn't hurt."

As Dr. Vieira prepared the necessary items to draw my blood, I sat down on the bed and rested my head in my hands. I prayed Sam would make it through this. I had been praying for the past ten hours, but it seemed like no one above me was listening. Did I lose my human existence for nothing?

I gave more blood and again Dr. Vieira attached it to Sam's IV, and again I downed a pint of my father's blood. As I was drinking the last drop, a loud bang sounded outside the room. My father jumped out of his chair and Dr. Vieira stopped mid-stride with his clipboard in hand.

I threw down the blood container and jumped out of bed.

"What is it?" I asked, standing at my father's heels.

"Get back," he snapped.

My father pulled open the door and Ben appeared, standing in the doorway in a hospital gown.

I gasped. The neck bandages were gone and a row of stitches traveled from his earlobe down to his collarbone along his jugular. What the heck did the Plutariums do to him? They didn't bite him-they mangled him. I was pushing my father out of the way to get to Ben when Sam's heart monitor beeped loudly.

I stopped and looked over my shoulder. Was my brother waking up? I looked at my father, then at Ben. Ben cocked his head, shifting his glance to me, then behind me.

"Jo? What's going on?" Ben asked, his voice cracking.

"Um...um..."

"Young lady, I'll take care of Ben. You need to help Dr. Vieira."

I froze. I was relieved to see Ben, but a blend of burnt sugar and a hint of cinnamon filled the air. My eyes shifted. I breathed in and my fangs dropped. Ben's scent made my mouth water. I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to clamp down on his neck and suck out all his human blood.

My father's voice filled the air, but I didn't understand what he was saying.

"Jo? Jo?" Ben's voice won out over my father's.

I snapped out of my trance and found Ben staring down at me.

"You need to go with my father," I said.

"This is your Dad?" he asked, pointing to my father.

"I'll explain later. Just go with him," I said.

My father was right. I needed to get as far away from Ben as possible. Besides, I needed to help Sam.

I turned on my heel but Ben grabbed me. His touch sent a shiver of something through me. I couldn't tell what it was, but I knew one thing for sure: I wanted his blood.

"Wait," he said.

"I have to help Sam. Please, Ben. Go with my father." I pulled away my arm and ran to Sam's bed.

My father's voice sounded overhead. "Lt. London, report to the medical facility. Lt. London, report to the medial facility."

When I reached Sam's side, Ben was looking at me with a confused expression on his face.

"Dad?" I called.

My father stepped into the doorway and pulled the door shut. When he did, I let out a sigh.

"Ben is fine," Dr. Vieira said as he lifted one of Sam's eyelids.

"Yeah, I can see that."

I wasn't about to tell him that it was me that wasn't fine, and how I wanted to drain Ben of all his blood. I guessed that was the reason my father didn't want me anywhere near Ben when I first turned.

"It seems the second bag did the trick. His heart rate is picking up well," Dr. Vieira said.

I released another sigh.

Sam's body jerked and reacted to the change. His eyes fluttered open and then closed several times as he moaned-the first signs of him losing his humanity.

Dr. Vieira looked at me and handed me an ice-cold cloth. "Run this over Sam's face and forehead. Keep doing it to so he stays cool. I need to get your father in here."

He opened the door and I caught a glimpse of Webb, Ben and my dad. Ben was nodding his head as if he were agreeing with my father who was saying something to him. Was my father trying to compel Ben or erase his memory?

"Commander? Let Webb handle that. I need your help with Sam," Dr. Vieira said.

My father ran his fingers through his hair, walked into the room and closed the door.

I was wiping Sam's forehead when he suddenly sat up and inhaled, gasping for breath. It was like he had awakened from the dead. Then he fell back onto his pillow. He curled his legs up, then turned into a fetal position, grabbing his stomach. My father sprinted into action as if he were a medic working in an ER room. He grabbed one of the cloths from the bowl of ice water and wiped down Sam's arms. Sweat poured out of Sam's body, soaking his t-shirt. I lifted it so my father could wipe down his back. We did this for an hour when Sam grabbed his ears. Was this what I went through? Did my father take care of me the same way?

"Shut the monitor off," my father said.

I turned and searched for the off button, but Sam was screaming and moaning so loud my own eardrums were hurting, so instead I pulled the plug out of the wall. When the sound ended, his body relaxed. As I sat watching him, I remembered the pain I went through, but seeing it happen to another person was like reliving the process all over again.

"Dad, how much longer?" I asked.

"He should be through the worse in a few hours. Then there will be the thirst," he said.

"Whose blood can he drink?" I asked.

"It will have to be yours for at least the first day."

Jeepers, again? "Do I have that much blood to give?"

"He won't need much. And after the initial thirst, he'll be able to drink mine."

"But you said when we walked in earlier that you were worried about me not having enough blood." I drew in my eyebrows as I looked at him.

"You're right. I thought Sam was going to need a lot more than the two bags though. Besides, you'll be able to replenish your system with my blood, which helps you to regenerate the nutrients you need. It's crucial for the next few months that your blood sustenance comes from me. You cannot drink any of the garbage we have in the refrigerators around here. Both you and Sam are too young for that." He stared at me as if he were waiting for my acknowledgement of his command or waiting for me to protest.

I nodded. "But where do you get your blood?"

"I still have a good bit of my blood stored for you and Sam."

He didn't answer my question, but I didn't want to push the issue. There were too many things going on around here and my curiosity was pinching me about his conversation with Ben.

Since Sam was quiet for the moment I asked, "Is everything okay with Ben?"

He nodded. "Ben's a little upset."

"Do you think? He's been through hell too."

He let out deep breath. "I thought you were..."

"You thought I was what?"

"Going to attack him. I smelled your excitement and your trepidation."

"Believe me. I wanted to."

"I'm proud of you. Showing that much restraint as a two-day old vampire is a huge accomplishment."

I couldn't tell my father how hard that was for me. Something told me I didn't have to.

"A human can't be turned. Can they?" I asked.

Based on everything I knew about natural-born vampires, which wasn't much, I had to be sure.

My dad's eyebrows lifted. "Not unless they carry a vampire gene."

I let out a sigh. Ben didn't want anything to do with vampires. He probably wouldn't want anything to do with me. My stomach churned at the thought of having the initial conversation with him.

"But what if the Plutariums find a way to change humans?" I asked.

He looked at me and something flashed across his face. Was he worried or more surprised that I asked the question? I couldn't tell. Whatever it was he didn't give me a warm and fuzzy.

"Patrick is behind bars," he said in a low tone that was almost a whisper as he kept wiping Sam's body. "The Plutariums can't follow through on their plan without him."

I prayed he was right. We both continued with our orders from Dr. Vieira to keep Sam cool. My father wiped along Sam's back while I patted his head and chest.

We watched Sam as he went through the pain of the change. When he finally stopped moving and fell asleep, I plugged the monitor back into the wall on my father's instructions. While Sam slept, it was crucial to make sure his heart was getting stronger, that he was out of danger.

I didn't know how long Sam would be out, but I figured I had some time to clear a few things up with my dad. I made my way over to the corner chair and plopped down. My dad was already sitting on the empty twin bed. I stilled for a moment, listening for voices outside the room-nothing. I guess Dr. Vieira and Webb were able to appease Ben. While I wanted to see him, I couldn't. I wasn't sure if I could trust myself, not to mention that I wasn't ready to have a conversation with him-no way.

"Dad?"

He raised his head. His eyes had silvered.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

He nodded. "Why?"

"You're eyes. They're..."

"What is it, Jo?" he asked. His tone was stern.

Whoa! Did I do something? I wasn't sure if I wanted to ask him anything now. He might bite off my head.

"Can we talk?"

"What do you want to talk about?" His words were clipped.

Now who was being emotional? I paused, debating whether to continue.

"Who's Neil Foster?"

He blinked a few times. "Not for discussion."

I crinkled my forehead. "Why not?"

"It's classified. When and if the time comes, I'll explain. Until then, he's off limits." He rubbed his eyes.

"What about Dr. Case? Can you talk about him?"

"What do you want to know?" he asked. His voice softened a bit. His eyes shifted to green and he let out a deep breath. Whatever was plaguing him seemed to have disappeared.

"He tried to kill me because he said you killed his sister. Is that true?"

He dropped his gaze. "It was an unfortunate accident. Dr. Case's sister, Ella, was a Navy medic. Both Ella and Dr. Case served under me. They weren't trained as SEALs but were trained for combat. During a mission in Afghanistan, things went horribly wrong. She was trying to save one of our team members when she got caught in the crossfire and was shot."

"Did you shoot her?" I asked.

My father pulled his hair back behind him. "I didn't, but one of our Sentinels did. It was an accident."

"Why does he think you did it, then? I mean, he said you killed her."

"As a leader I take a lot of heat for what my team does or doesn't do."

"Does Dr. Case know it was an accident?"

He nodded. "He's been looking for revenge for a long time. His only recourse is to take it out on another human close to the Sentinels. He knows he can't kill a vampire. I imagine when you showed up in the hospital that night, he probably thought he'd won the lottery."

"So, wait Dr. Case is not a vampire, then?" At the funeral home I couldn't tell if he was or wasn't, although his speed seemed to suggest he might be.

"Affirmative. He knew who we were when he worked on my team. Anyone on my team other than the Sentinels is a human with high top-secret clearance. It was unfortunate that Dr. Case chose to leave the military. He's an excellent doctor. But he's made his choice and now he's helping the Plutariums. He also knows that any breach of information he secured while in the military will result in death." He yawned. "It's three a.m. I'm tired and you need to get some rest as well." He rose from the bed. "Sam will be out for a few more hours. Why don't we switch? You take the bed and I'll take the chair."

Without thinking, I rose and walked over to the bed, while he sat in the chair.

"Dad?"

"Mmm?" he muttered as he reclined.

"What about the people locked up in the prison wing? What are you going to do with them?"

"They'll be dealt with in due time. Don't worry. It's secure and we have guards stationed in and around the building twenty-four/seven."

I wasn't worried. Okay, I was worried. Dr. Case and Patrick were human so I didn't believe they could escape; they didn't have the power of a vampire. But Edmund, Jonah and Fernando? They probably had combined strength of several WWF wrestlers each. I didn't know how they kept a vampire behind bars, but it had me a little concerned.

"So we're safe?" I asked, apprehension oozing out as I said the last word.

"Honey, Patrick is still human and doesn't have my blood for his research. Therefore, he is useless. How we punish him is still up in the air. As for Dr. Case, the human military will deal with him. The vampires are a different story, and as you will learn in school, we have laws that are enforced for crimes among vampires. They won't get out, trust me."

"School? What are you talking about?"

"I want to get some shut-eye before Sam wakes up. We'll talk about school then. I don't want to have to repeat myself."

I flopped on the empty bed and yawned. What the heck was he talking about? A vampire school? I wanted to laugh. Every time I asked a question, five more piled onto the list. My head was spinning with all this information. Did he mean I wouldn't be going back to Durfee High School?

His breathing grew heavier as I stared at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath and releasing it. Warmth washed over me as I closed my eyelids, relieved that my brother was on his way back to the living, even if it were as a vampire.