It had hit her hard.
Spurred on by renewed desperation, she sprinted the rest of the way to the lab, where she found Grant entering data into a computer.
“You look like shit.” He peered at her from over the computer screen as she took a seat in front of the laptop across the table from him. “Are you okay?”
No, she wasn’t. And she wouldn’t be until Riker was back. “I’m fine.” She jacked the thumb drive into the computer.
“You sound like shit, too,” Grant added. So helpful. “Did you get any sleep?”
Several dozen files popped up on her screen.
“Slept like a baby.”
The files all appeared to be related to the breeding program. She steeled herself for a lot of disturbing data.
Grant’s chair squeaked as he started to stand. “I’ll get you some coffee.”
“Thanks,” she muttered, “but my stomach isn’t playing nice today.” As if to bring her words home, a wave of nausea hit her hard enough to make her sway.
Grant scowled at her. “Have you eaten?”
“I don’t think I can.” Was she coming down with something? She couldn’t afford to be sick. Not now.
Not when Riker could be dying.
“I’m going to get you something.” Grant headed toward the door. “And don’t argue,” he added, when she opened her mouth to do exactly that.
Sighing with resignation, she refocused on the computer screen and clicked on a file labeled Fraser’s Notes. Dr. Fraser was a colleague, a vampire physiologist whose work in the field had led to major advancements in human medicine, including a cure for Type diabetes. But even among the ranks of his fellow scientists, his methods were considered questionable, and he’d recently come under fire by vampire-rights groups who claimed he was killing and torturing vampires unnecessarily.
Nicole rubbed her aching eyes as she scanned the documents in the file. Fraser had collated the medical stats of every female who had conceived in the lab and then compared the data against those who hadn’t become pregnant. Interestingly, the rate of conception in the lab was higher than that among vampires in the wild.
Fraser had concluded that being bound and forced to copulate increased the chances of conception, but he didn’t know exactly why that was.
Fraser was a fucking idiot.
A sharp, stabbing throb started up inside her head, and oh, yeah, she was on her way to Flu-ville. Maybe when Grant got back, he could get her some aspirin.
Nicole massaged her temples as she jotted down notes on a pad of paper. Only the females who had been fed blood taken from males on the night of the new moon had gotten pregnant, but not all who drank the blood had conceived.
Sweat bloomed on her forehead. Why was it so hot in here?
She wiped her brow and went back to the research, finding it curious that the females who got pregnant had also fought the hardest when they were taken into the breeding chamber. Fraser’s conclusion was that in their natural state, the females battled the males, causing a rise in hormones.
Nicole threw down the bullshit flag on that one.
It didn’t make sense. Rough play . . . perhaps dominance play might happen among animal species when the females were receptive to males, but the females in the lab weren’t “playing.” They were fighting for their lives. That wouldn’t happen in normal vampire society.
But then, normal vampire society saw a sadly pathetic birthrate.
Dammit. She was missing something important here. But her head was spinning, and the lights were dimming to the point where she was having a hard time seeing the screen.
“Nicole?” Bastien’s voice came from somewhere behind her. “Nicole.”
Something hit her like a full-body slam by a bus.
The floor. The floor had jumped up and struck her. She couldn’t see, and suddenly, she could barely breathe.
“Help! Someone help!” Bastien was closer, maybe even touching her shoulder.
She heard more raised voices, running footsteps, curses, and then someone picked her up. Words buzzed in her ear. She heard them but couldn’t comprehend them.
“It’s too late. Is it too late?” Grant’s voice, she thought.
“Shit.” Myne for sure.
“Hurry, dammit,” Grant insisted . “She’s dying.”
“Don’t let her die!” That, she was sure, was Bastien.
A massive explosion of pain blew every cell apart.
Dear God, it was as if every bone was breaking and every muscle fiber was stretching to its limit and then snapping. Agony such as she’d never known became her entire world, until mercifully, life as she knew it . . . ended.
Chapter 28
Myne rushed through the compound, the unconscious female limp in his arms. Grant had to hold Bastien back; the boy had gone nuts, full-blown, rabid, fangs-bared nuts, when Myne tried to take Nicole from the lab. Nothing Myne had said convinced Bastien that he wasn’t going to hurt Nicole.