Negative Space Ch. 15

"Yes. Your studious researchers have come up with a clear understanding that it is a crafted bacterium. Even more suspicious is that the outbreaks seemed to stem from Washington, DC. I couldn't figure out what that was about until you told me that Ishkur is here now."

My mind filled with expletives, but I held myself back in front of such an imposing vampire. "That's terrible news. I'll call Elliott and update him. Then we need to figure out how they made it, where they made it, and how they're spreading it."

"I have a few contacts I can go see," Julian added. "They would know if FBI funds were being used in the labs to craft something like that."

Prometheus' image began to flicker a bit more and fade.

"You leaving us, Prometheus?" I asked, leaning forward to touch his arm, remembering only as my fingers sunk through his imaginary flesh that he wasn't actually here.

"I'm going to do some research of my own. I'll contact you when I have more information."

"One last question, Karl," I said before I could chicken out. Prometheus froze and glared at me.

"Where did you hear that name?"

"I read it in an old book. Just tell me—did you know my mother?"

Prometheus shook his head slowly, some of the tension leaving his body. "When I parted with that name, I left everything of my old life behind. I have been keeping an eye on the family, of course, but when they disappeared they vanished from my sights as well. I'm sorry." He suddenly seemed embarrassed, which was strange given his imposing demeanor. "I hear she was a wonderful woman."

"From whom?"

He frowned, having said too much. I could see him practically grasping for the words that had just left his mouth.

"From WHOM?" I asked again, blood rushing up into my head.

"Just know that we are looking for her. Searching for her. We will find her as soon as it is possible." Without a single good bye or second glance, Prometheus disappeared. After a moment I grabbed the bag out of the trashcan and tied it up, sticking it in the hallway outside our door. That was enough vomit for me, I didn't need to smell it all night. I washed off my hand hands and my mouth, letting the anxiety spill out as I spit water back into the sink. Julian followed me in and pulled my long hair out of my face.

"Come on to bed. We'll worry about all of this in the morning."

I glanced at his earnest eyes, his good guy eyebrows furrowed with just the right amount of concern. He took me by the elbow and lead me back to the bed. It was only then that I considered the fact that there was one bed and two of us.

"Don't worry about it," he chuckled. "I'll sleep on top of the covers. But first, lie down here, on your stomach."

I did as he asked, and felt his weight settling next to me on the bed, and his fingers begin to knead my tangled muscles and knotted flesh.

"Whoa buddy," I said weakly, enjoying the touch so much it pained me to object to it. "You know you're not getting any, so don't even try."

Julian chuckled again, swatting my hands away and continuing his administrations. "This isn't for you, it's for me. I won't be able sleep if you don't stop worrying so much. This whole room stinks of anxiety and it's not getting any better. Just relax a little."

I felt the grip on my heart lessen a little, as if someone were peeling back the fingers. Blood rushed to it, filling me with a warm comfort. I sighed into the pillow, and before I realized it, I was asleep.