Henry glanced up at her. “They’re gills, I tell you. I saw them on the back side of his ribs. His arms cover most of them and they wouldn’t be noticeable to someone that didn’t know what to look for.”
“Do you realize what this implies? Gills for God’s sake.”
“I’m seeing similarities to humans, amphibians, reptiles, and fish here, Abbie. The heart of a fish only has two chambers, one to receive blood and the other to send it out to the rest of the body. A human heart has four.”
“Notice that our blood leaves the lungs and enters the heart, while a fish’s blood leaves the heart and enters the gills. And take a gander at this.” Henry clicked the mouse once more.
“What in the world?” she breathed, studying the image before her.
“It’s the digestive tract. I would give anything to be able to dissect it.”
His excitement at the possibility of a dissection disturbed her.
Abbie glanced over at the it in question, and something tugged at her emotions. Some kind of beautiful creature had washed up on the beach only to be violated and sent to a place few had ever witnessed. Area 51.
She shuddered and turned back to the screen. “Have you ever seen anything like this before? And why six chambers instead of two or four?”
“I don’t know why the six chambers. I understand that an octopus, squid, and cuttlefish have three separate hearts, so perhaps it has to do with evolution.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he continued. “I studied tissue samples taken from an unknown subject many years ago, but I wasn’t told its origin. And it had blood. This subject doesn’t. Well, barely enough to fill a cup, at any rate. And there are no wounds that it could have bled out from.”
“What?” Abbie was sure she hadn’t heard him right.
“Come here and I’ll show you.” Henry took up residence on the left side of the bed as she rushed around to the right.
He lifted the creature’s left arm, turning the hand so she could see both sides. “We attempted to draw blood here first. Nothing. Not a drop could be found.”
Replacing the arm, he gripped the subject’s chin next, tugging it to the side for her inspection. “One vein runs along here, from jaw to the bottom of the neck. Nearly dry also.”
“But— ”
“I’ll come back to that. There’s more.” He dragged the sheet down to a small pink vertical scar on the creature’s abdomen. “Impossible,” he gasped.
“What’s wrong?” Her gaze flew to her father’s face.” Henry had significantly paled.
“I made that incision less than an hour ago. It’s partially healed. The thing is dead. I don’t understand.”
“Are you sure he’s…gone?” Abbie couldn’t bring herself to refer to him as it.
“No heartbeat.” Henry laid two fingers on the creature’s neck. “No pulse. It’s dead all right.”
“So how is he healing if he isn’t alive?”
“I don’t know. I was able to remove a small sample of something resembling blood from near the stomach cavity, but it wasn’t in any of the A, B, O, or RH classes. It’s an anomaly.”
“Perhaps you should try giving him a universal donation to see what happens? I mean, if he’s healing, he has to be alive.”
“He? It’s not a person, Abbie. And I’d thought of that. I was just about to try it before you popped in here and gave me indigestion. I’m running out of time. I want you gone before that crew arrives.”
“Then let’s hurry. I’ll help.”
He shot her an impatient glance. “If you’re caught in here, I could lose my job.”
“I won’t get caught. Not if we hurry.”
Henry studied her for a moment. “So, damn stubborn.”
“Yet another thing I inherited from you.”
“You’re not too old for me to turn over my knee, young lady.” He spun on his heel and left the room.
Abbie took advantage of Henry’s absence to study the beautiful creature before her. His wrists and ankles were strapped down with leather cuffs attached to bands that disappeared beneath the bed.
He looked very much alive to her, with color in his cheeks and his lips slightly parted. She was certain his mouth had been closed only moments before.
Her fingers shook as she reached toward him. She gently pushed his top lip up with her thumb.
“Holy crap,” she whispered, jerking her hand back as if burned. He had razor-sharp incisors where his eyeteeth should have been.
When nothing untoward happened, Abbie slowly leaned in again.
Heat instantly surrounded her upper body. She felt a soft tugging sensation that left a tingle in its wake. Her muscles relaxed without effort as something unseen moved up the sides of her face.
A deeply accented voice invaded her mind. “Open.”
Abbie knew she should run, but the allure of the command was more powerful than her fear.
She allowed the warmth to pull her closer, never taking her gaze from his mouth, until she half lay across his massive chest with her arms on either side of his shoulders.
A gentle pressure wrapped itself around her mind, and she found herself inching toward his parted lips to hover slightly above them. His breath mingled with hers and she breathed him in. He’s breathing?
Abbie felt as if his very spirit entered her body, traveling down her throat and circling her chest. The pressure continued to slide through her stomach and grew in strength as it reached her abdomen.
She had no desire to move even if it were possible. Her insides turned to liquid and she exhaled softly into his mouth only to draw him in again. He’s alive…
Abbie shifted on his huge frame and stroked her fingertips down to his wrists. Though no pulse was evident, she could feel his energy, his breath teasing her lips.
On instinct, she gripped his hands and slowly turned them over until she was palm-to-palm with him. A gentle electrical current traveled up her arms, tingling, throbbing, as if it had a life of its own.
An image of herself as a child coming awake on the beach while waves washed over her legs suddenly flashed through her mind. She jerked her head back. What the hell?
The pulsing continued through their points of contact while Abbie held her breath, lowering her face close to his once more. Another jolt entered her palms.
“Salutem.”
Where had she heard that before? She recognized it as the Latin word for greetings.
Images and voices began swirling together in a multitude of color and sound, leaving her helpless against the onslaught.
“Abbie, did you know that dolphins can communicate with humans?”
A groan slipped from her parted lips, full of pain and sorrow. Mother.
More current slid from his hands to hers. “Salt from his tears.” Water. Coffin. Death.
“No,” she softly moaned.
Sand. Her lungs hurt. Heat snaking through her arms and legs. “Salutem.” Blessed darkness.
Abbie heard a keening sound and realized it came from her. She slowly removed her shaky hands from his and brought them to his face. “It can’t be.”
With unsteady fingers, she rested her thumbs on his eyelids and gently lifted. A soft gasp escaped as she stared into the emerald-green eyes of a dream she’d thought long forgotten.
Memory was swift and strong and she clung to it like a life raft on a raging sea.
She’d wondered a thousand times about the day they’d buried her mother, when the teenage boy with the strange accent and rare-colored eyes had magically appeared to save her life.
The memory had faded over the years until she’d convinced herself it’d all been the imagination of a child who’d recently suffered a trauma.
Abbie couldn’t believe the boy from her dreams was actually real and strapped down before her now.
She forced herself to break the connection and stand on legs that felt too weak to hold her up. His warmth abruptly disappeared, leaving an ache and emptiness in its place that was staggering.
Chapter Three
Unimaginable pain. Hauke could hear his sister’s scream piercing the night, ripping his heart in half. Sunlight scorched his skin. The cool, healing power of the water.
He could breathe once again. Voices. More pain. The distinct feel of a blade opening his skin.
His defenseless state enraged him. To be trapped inside his own mind, unable to retaliate as someone violated his body.
A female. Compassion.