Read Online Lynn Viehl - Darkyn 1 - If Angels Burn (v1.1) by If Angels Burn - Free Book Online
Authors: If Angels Burn
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the Brethren? Beg them to declare a moratorium?” He threw the goblet away from him and took pleasure in hearing it shatter. “I will explain that it is for the benefit of our doctor and her normal life. That should make them agreeable, don’t you think?”
“Forgive me, Master.” There was the sound of fabric against marble; Phillipe had gone down on his knees. “I spoke out of turn.”
“You speak as always. As my conscience.” He fumbled until he found his seneschal’s jacket and used it to bring Phillipe to his feet. “I cannot have a conscience now, my friend. Not until we are safe. Do you understand me?”
“
Oui, maître
.”
“Go.” Michael released him. “See to her.”
Phillipe had escorted Alex back to the dining room and left her there. After checking the doors and windows, which were locked, she picked at a plate of designer food. Éliane reappeared and asked for a list of equipment and supplies. Feeling as angry as she had felt with Michael Cyprien, Alex gave her a list of enough equipment to stock a trauma clinic. The blonde wrote everything down before she escorted Alex upstairs.
“You don’t have to lock me in,” she told Éliane as the other woman produced a set of keys. “I won’t run.”
She pushed open the door. “You soon will have a great deal of work to do. You should sleep while you can.”
Alex could have knocked her out with one good punch to the face, but what she had seen down in the basement stayed her hand. Whatever condition Cyprien had, it needed to be studied, attended. She also wanted to know, purely from a medical standpoint, what sort of injuries he had suffered.
All right
, Alex thought,
I want to help the poor bastard
. Then she’d have him thrown in jail.
“Being an accessory to a kidnapping gets you hellacious jail time, you know,” she mentioned to the blonde.
“You won’t go to the police.”
Oh, wouldn’t she? The minute she got out of this place. “You seem awfully sure of that.”
The thin lips produced a prim smile. “If you attempt to do so, Phillipe or I will slit your throat before you can testify.
Bonne nuit, docteur
.” She shoved Alex into the room and locked the door.
Alex slept very little that night, but not because of what Éliane had promised to do. Being kidnapped sucked, and the death threats were scary, but the medical puzzle Cyprien presented fascinated and baffled her.
How can I reconstruct a face that heals as soon as I cut into it
?
Alex had heard of a few, rare cases of spontaneous healing, usually involving religious healings, but most were later debunked as fakes. Then there was the question of her involvement. Cyprien had already gone as far as kidnapping to get her here. What would he do if she failed?
Phillipe or I will slit your throat
.
Alex was kept locked in the bedroom for a second day. She paced, she brooded, and then she forced herself to take a long hot shower. Phillipe silently delivered her breakfast and lunch, gently prevented her from escaping two more times, and then escorted her downstairs for dinner again. This time, there were two place settings, and Cyprien sat waiting for her.
He wore a red velvet robe with a hood over his face. “Good evening, Dr. Keller. I hope you are well.”
“I’d be better on a plane headed for O’Hare.” Alex ignored the faint, sweet smell of roses coming from him—wearing that kind of cologne, the guy had to be gay—and yanked out her chair before Phillipe could. His impassive expression didn’t change as he went to stand by the wall behind her. “I should mention that if I spend one more minute locked up in that damn room, I’ll turn psychotic.” She eyed Phillipe. “P.S., you’re the first one I’m stabbing in the heart.”
One corner of Phillipe’s mouth curled.
“I regret your stay with us could not be under better circumstances,” Cyprien said. “In the meantime, please try not to kill any of my staff.”
“Quit hiding your face.
“Forgive me, Master.” There was the sound of fabric against marble; Phillipe had gone down on his knees. “I spoke out of turn.”
“You speak as always. As my conscience.” He fumbled until he found his seneschal’s jacket and used it to bring Phillipe to his feet. “I cannot have a conscience now, my friend. Not until we are safe. Do you understand me?”
“
Oui, maître
.”
“Go.” Michael released him. “See to her.”
Phillipe had escorted Alex back to the dining room and left her there. After checking the doors and windows, which were locked, she picked at a plate of designer food. Éliane reappeared and asked for a list of equipment and supplies. Feeling as angry as she had felt with Michael Cyprien, Alex gave her a list of enough equipment to stock a trauma clinic. The blonde wrote everything down before she escorted Alex upstairs.
“You don’t have to lock me in,” she told Éliane as the other woman produced a set of keys. “I won’t run.”
She pushed open the door. “You soon will have a great deal of work to do. You should sleep while you can.”
Alex could have knocked her out with one good punch to the face, but what she had seen down in the basement stayed her hand. Whatever condition Cyprien had, it needed to be studied, attended. She also wanted to know, purely from a medical standpoint, what sort of injuries he had suffered.
All right
, Alex thought,
I want to help the poor bastard
. Then she’d have him thrown in jail.
“Being an accessory to a kidnapping gets you hellacious jail time, you know,” she mentioned to the blonde.
“You won’t go to the police.”
Oh, wouldn’t she? The minute she got out of this place. “You seem awfully sure of that.”
The thin lips produced a prim smile. “If you attempt to do so, Phillipe or I will slit your throat before you can testify.
Bonne nuit, docteur
.” She shoved Alex into the room and locked the door.
Alex slept very little that night, but not because of what Éliane had promised to do. Being kidnapped sucked, and the death threats were scary, but the medical puzzle Cyprien presented fascinated and baffled her.
How can I reconstruct a face that heals as soon as I cut into it
?
Alex had heard of a few, rare cases of spontaneous healing, usually involving religious healings, but most were later debunked as fakes. Then there was the question of her involvement. Cyprien had already gone as far as kidnapping to get her here. What would he do if she failed?
Phillipe or I will slit your throat
.
Alex was kept locked in the bedroom for a second day. She paced, she brooded, and then she forced herself to take a long hot shower. Phillipe silently delivered her breakfast and lunch, gently prevented her from escaping two more times, and then escorted her downstairs for dinner again. This time, there were two place settings, and Cyprien sat waiting for her.
He wore a red velvet robe with a hood over his face. “Good evening, Dr. Keller. I hope you are well.”
“I’d be better on a plane headed for O’Hare.” Alex ignored the faint, sweet smell of roses coming from him—wearing that kind of cologne, the guy had to be gay—and yanked out her chair before Phillipe could. His impassive expression didn’t change as he went to stand by the wall behind her. “I should mention that if I spend one more minute locked up in that damn room, I’ll turn psychotic.” She eyed Phillipe. “P.S., you’re the first one I’m stabbing in the heart.”
One corner of Phillipe’s mouth curled.
“I regret your stay with us could not be under better circumstances,” Cyprien said. “In the meantime, please try not to kill any of my staff.”
“Quit hiding your face.
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