Reach Out For The Sunrise Ch. 09

"He has a talent for delegation that I envy," Mikka said, deadpan.

"You're not wrong," Lord Warren laughed wearily, lowering his head into his hands.

"Maybe you should go back to the hotel, get some rest. It could be a long night. We can work it in shifts if that is easier?" Mikka suggested.

A shake of the head was his only response.

"I'll catch forty winks here," Dominic breathed at last. "I daren't leave. Someone wake me the minute anything happens."

The older man had begun to nod and Mikka moved into the chair beside him, drawing Dominic's head onto his shoulder when the door from the cryonics department swung open and their young translator came out looking wild-eyed.

"You must see this," he said breathlessly.

Mikka moved to shake Lord Warren but his companion was already roused, knuckling the grit from his eyes. He was on his feet first, following the young fellow back into the lab. Mikka followed, hardly daring to hope.


The handsome Arabic doctor looked exhausted but there was a brightness in his eyes that told them instantly something utterly unexpected had happened in the makeshift theatre.

"He opened his eyes," Dominic translated, a hint of awe in his voice. "The flesh wounds are beginning to heal, they have turned a corner with him. He is amazed, he has never seen anything like this."

"His eyes are closed again now," Mikka pointed out, staring down at the scene of carnage down below. There was blood everywhere. The doctor was covered in it but he seemed not to care. On the table, one of his assistants was charging up the paddles, getting ready to shock their patient.

"They only opened for a moment or so," Dominic conveyed, also staring at the scene below. He asked something else in French, a look of concern on his face.

The doctor waved a hand and his reply was dismissive even to Mikka's ears. Let me get on with it. And with that he was gone, back to the theatre of blood.

"What is wrong?" Mikka asked warily.

Dominic shook his head. "Nothing. I guess they know what they're doing."

"But you're not sure?" Mikka looked anxiously at him.

"They can't know for sure that the heart has healed. If they try to jump start his heart and it's still damaged it could do more harm than good."

"Surely they know that?" Mikka said.

"They've never treated a vampire before. They've never seen anything like this," Dominic answered in a quiet voice, adding under his breath; "And neither have I."

The unexpected jolt flung him forward like the immediate aftermath of a train crash. He had been... well, he wasn't actually sure where he had been. It was a cold place, that was all he knew. He had no feeling in his hands, or anywhere at all. At least not until the impact slammed him backwards again and all his senses suddenly kick-started at once.

He could taste blood in his mouth and his fangs extended instinctively. Then the pain began to dig its claws in and he screamed. There was fluid in his lungs, in his throat, he was drowning and he panicked for a moment before he remembered that he couldn't 'technically' drown. But his lungs were still trying to inflate, even though he wasn't breathing. None of that made sense. Why was this happening to him? Why the fuck couldn't they leave him alone?

Something long and sharp probed his side, between his ribs, then slid into his chest. He wanted to fight it, but his limbs felt too heavy. It was as if he was deep underwater still. After a little while however, he began to feel more comfortable. The sensation of choking and drowning was beginning to ease. He tried to swallow but his mouth would not work.

And then whatever it was that kept on slamming him against the wall, picked him up and did it again.

'Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!' he screamed at them in his head, but his lips would not obey him, his tongue was like a round, red rock in his mouth. 'Please!' he wanted to whimper at them; 'Please stop doing that.'

But the jolts kept on coming, and they were getting harder. The pain in his chest and in his tightly bunched muscles grew hotter and harder to bear until he began to slip away from it again, his senses lost in a vortex of chaos; spinning, spinning, spinning... falling...

'Please make them stop. Someone! Please!' he thought frantically. And then the darkness swallowed him up again and he let go of the slim tendril of light, sinking back down into the quiet of the grave.



"Please! Merci! Don't... please stop shocking him." Dominic was banging on the reinforced glass window that separated their sealed viewing area from the space where the French surgeons were trying to literally blast Rayne's small, blood-stained body back to life.

Either the glass was soundproofed as well, or the medics were ignoring him. Whichever was the truth, Mikka could not watch it any more. He walked around to the door that ran between the two rooms and, after a moment to gather himself, kicked it virtually off its hinges.

Dominic was through the gap like a terrier down a rat hole just as soon as he realised what was happening. Mikka watched his back as the Englishman pleaded with his doctor friend for several minutes, during which they at least did stop applying the paddles to Rayne's chest. The vampire lay perfectly still on the gurney in the interim, no sign of life flickering anywhere along his small, wretched body. Mikka walked to the gurney as Dominic was arguing with the doctors and gently stroked his pale face. Rayne's skin was icy cold. Maybe that was a good sign.

He bent his head and kissed those chilled, black lips very tenderly. Then he picked up one of the scalpels that the medical team had used to work on their patient earlier. Carefully he made an incision on the back of his hand and touched it to his own lips, taking the blood into his mouth.

One of the doctors moved towards him and he held up the scalpel as a warning.

"I am HIV positive," he told the doctor, as blood ran down his chin. "Do not come any closer to me, or I will make you regret it."

Whether the young man spoke English or not, he stopped in his tracks. Clearly the look on Mikka's face told him not to mess around with this man. Mikka nodded gravely, then turned back to Rayne and bent over him, touching his gory lips to the vampire's mouth again.


He swam back up for the third time, more slowly. It had been a lovely dream he was having. He and Xavier were naked, curled up together in the sunshine, kissing long and slow. Light rippled off the sea and the water of the pool and he was torn between the desire to dive into the cool water and the pleasure of remaining in his lover's arms for a little while longer, just enjoying Xav's soft mouth on his. It had been a long time since he felt this relaxed; this happy with another person. For a little while he wondered why he did not just stay here, curled around his beautiful mate, making the most of the time they had together.

It could not last. It never did.

But why? Why not? He could not answer that question for the moment. All he could think of was Xavier's mouth moving sweetly against his own; gentle hands exploring his body. It felt so good; so deliciously tasty.

Rayne swallowed, finding it hard but wanting to all the same. The taste of blood was irresistible. He gulped again, and again.

The tender lips moved back from his and he felt suddenly cut off, abandoned. He needed Xavier's kiss and the sweetness of his blood.

Then suddenly it was there again, another rush of heat and salt and iron in his mouth, the wonderful flavour of his lover. He swallowed hungrily again and again then struggled to reach for him, to hold him. He wanted to bite, to take it for himself. The brief bloody kisses were not enough.



One moment Mikka was bent over Rayne Wylde, gently kissing him, using his lips to feed the little vampire his blood and the next... He could not quite describe what happened to him afterwards. Rayne stirred under his hands and he felt an instant of elation before the vampire latched onto him and bit down deep into his throat, sucking and clinging like a limpet.

"Dominic!" he hissed, waving one hand frantically as Rayne used him as a mobile bloodbank. "Jesus! Help me! He's... I think he's awake!"


Somehow, Dominic Warren managed to get the vampire to release him. Rayne was still less than half conscious but his bite was instinctive, like a pirhana's and only some deft manipulation of his jaw muscles by Warren's long, clever fingers managed to make his mandible unhinge and free the shocked, and slightly enervated Finn.

Mikka was sitting by the door now, holding a surgical pad to his neck where Rayne had bitten him. Warren had returned to the vampire just as soon as he knew that his companion would not collapse. Already the medical team had sent for more blood supplies to give him a transfusion. He was grateful for that. After all, he had shouted at them and threatened them earlier with an offensive weapon. They were more than kind.

"Will he be okay?" Mikka asked when Dominic came back to lean against the wall beside him, still taking several deep breaths to control his emotions.

"I sincerely hope so," Lord Warren exhaled. "Mikkal... what you did there was above and beyond what I could have expected from anyone but a true friend."

Mikka waved a hand at him. "I just thought it might help," he said, slightly abashed at the other man's remark. "He's obviously hungry."

"Ravenous, darling!" Dom smiled down at him, fondly. "And thinking of food... actually, so am I. Do you fancy catching a bite to eat while he's resting? I think it will take him a couple of hours to start feeling more like himself, at least."


It was mid morning by the time Dominic and Mikka returned from their breakfast in a lovely cafe by the Seine. The sunlight and delicious food had been more than enough to revive their spirits but when they returned to the Institute it was to find that Rayne had been moved to a private room. The door was locked because most of the medical team were petrified of being alone with him but they let Dominic and Mikka in there without question.

"He looks better," Mikka whispered, observing the slight flush to their friend's normally pale cheeks. "Please tell me that's not another bad sign."

"I think it's good," Dominic said with a smile. "The blood is circulating, not simply being absorbed. He's getting there. I just hope that being down for so long hasn't done him any lasting damage."

"Can't he repair it the way he does with any other wound?" Mikka asked warily.

"Body damage is one thing," Dom told him solemnly. "Brain damage is a completely different matter. The brain controls the repair centre. It's why slayers are always told that the best way to kill a vampire is to remove its head and burn the body and skull separately. If his brain degenerated too badly then he might not be the creature that he was, Mikkal."

"Is that dangerous?" Mikka looked anxiously at him. "Should we even be here alone with him?"

"To be honest, I have no idea." Dom flashed him an apologetic smile. "It could be, I suppose. If he wakes and all he remembers is the hunger for blood, then he might be a danger to us. But he's remembered enough to mend his body. He looks well, as you pointed out."

It was true, Rayne's lean torso was only faintly scarred now. To look at him, it was hard to believe that he had been little more than a pile of shredded flesh and muscle just a few hours earlier. He was still wired up to the life support machine but his body was whole and from the colour in his cheeks he might merely have been sleeping.

As Dominic stroked his hair fondly the vampire opened his eyes again and this time they stayed open; his stare pale and unfocussed, translucent chlorophyll green. His body trembled and dry lips parted around a short hissing gasp, fangs extended hungrily. Mikka caught his breath anxiously. Dom uttered a small, strangled sound somewhere between a sob and a sigh of relief however as the vampire latched onto his wrist and began to feed. He stroked Rayne's hair as tenderly as a mother with her newborn.

END OF CHAPTER NINE

REACH OUT FOR THE SUNRISE

©Sadie Rose Bermingham & Bellora Quinn 2010