Edge took Amber by the hand and led her out the house's back door. The lawn there was fenced in, and sported an antique lawn swing and a wide-open view of the stars.
He sat down on the swing, and she sat beside him. He slid an arm around her shoulders, drew her close. "Beautiful night," he said.
Amber looked up at him. "It is."
"You're hurting, though."
She started to deny it, but the knowing look he sent her made her realize he wasn't buying it. "How do you know?"
"I feel you. More and more, it seems. What hurts, Alby?"
"My back, mostly."
He drew her down until she was lying across his lap, then ran his hand over her back, exerting gentle pressure, rubbing in small circles. "Wish I could make it better."
"You are," she told him, closing her eyes. "Just by being here, you are."
"That's a relief."
"It won't be long, Edge," she said. "At this rate, this child could be born at any time, and I... "
"You're scared to death."
She nodded.
"I'll make it all right."
"Do you really believe you can?" she asked, relaxing a little more.
"I have to believe it. I can't accept the alternative. But whether I believe isn't important. The question is, do you?"
Amber opened her eyes and stared up into his face. "It seems a little insane, but I do."
He nodded, pleased, she thought, by her answer. "Then hold on to that."
"I'll try."
Edge bent over her, pressed his lips to hers, kissed her slowly, tenderly. "You do that," he said.
Amber heard the back door open, sensed others coming out into the yard. She sat up, self-conscious, saw Tamara on her way across the lawn.
"I'm going to go check on Eric's progress," Edge said. "Relax out here a while. Enjoy the night."
"All right." She was confused, wondering at his tenderness, the look in his eyes. Wondering what it might mean and trying not to let herself hope...
Edge rose from the swing, nodding to Tamara on his way back into the house. Amber watched him go, tears welling in her eyes. God, why did he have to be so wonderful? It made her hope for things she'd already decided could never be.
Or could they?
"Don't you ever take a break?"
Edge asked the question after walking into the lab to find Eric bent over a microscope, peering into its lenses. Eric straightened, rubbed his eyes. "With everything else running at such an accelerated pace, I don't dare slow down." He removed one slide from the microscope, inserted another. "How is Amber?"
"Terrified. Pretending not to be, for the sake of everyone else."
"And Stiles?"
"Still in that attic bedroom, still aging. I don't see much change." Eric nodded at the dark glass vials that stood in a little rack near Eric. "Is one of those the Ambrosia-Six?"
"No, those are all fresh samples from Amber Lily. This one's a duplication of the serum Stiles called Ambrosia-Seven."
"But it's useless."
"For our purposes, yes," Eric said. "I packed the A-Six in foam, put it in the cooler. It'll be safe there until someone takes it back to Willem."
"Good thinking. We wouldn't want anything to happen to it," Edge said, looking at the fridge in the corner of the lab.
"No. Though, from what Alicia's told me, I don't think he's going to survive long without it. The first treatment doesn't seem to be doing a lot of good."
Edge lowered his head, swallowed his guilt, kept his thoughts sealed within his own mind. "You should probably go take a look at Stiles," he said slowly.
Eric was already back to peering through the microscope, but he straightened then. "I thought you said there was no apparent change?"
"No, not apparent to me. But the aging is progressing. I can't make a guess at how much time he has left. I was hoping you might be able to. After all, we have to find some way to make him talk before he expires, taking all his secrets with him."
Eric nodded thoughtfully. "You're right about that." He peeled off the latex gloves he was wearing and started for the door. "All right. I'll look in on him." He headed for the door, and Edge followed him out of the lab. When they went through the hallway, into the large sitting area, Eric frowned. "Where is everyone?"
"Outside. It's a beautiful night, Eric. Very warm for so early in the year. Amber's expecting her parents and Rhiannon to arrive soon."
"It's good that her parents will be here for her."
"Yes, it'll do her good to have her mother with her," Edge said. "I think I'll go on out and join them."
Eric nodded, and continued across the room and up the stairs. As soon as he was out of sight, Edge turned and hurried back up the hallway and into the lab. He went to the mini-fridge, opened it, pried the flat square of foam off the top of the foam box and reached inside. The vial was there, nestled in bubble-wrap. He took it out, removed it from the wrappings. Then he found an empty vial to replace it and put everything back, just as he'd found it.
No one would ever know. At least not until the box was opened again. And then Amber would probably hate him for this. Hell, they would all hate him. What surprised him most was that he actually cared.
The others might forgive him in time, if his plan worked. If it didn't, they never would. But Amber-Amber would never forgive him, even if he succeeded. He closed his eyes, held the vial of precious fluid in his fist. It didn't matter if she hated him. He had to do this. For her. And for his son. But God, how he wished there were some other way.
Amber rocked slowly in the cushioned seat of the antique lawn swing, Tamara swinging beside her. The stars above her twinkled as brightly as if all was right with the world. As if her baby's life wasn't hanging in the balance, while Willem's waned to nothing. Alicia hadn't been honest with her about Will's condition. She'd tried to sugarcoat it. But Amber knew. She felt it in her soul. Willem was fading.
"It's a beautiful night," Eric said, stepping out onto the lawn to join her there. He looked around.
"Alicia's gone to the kitchen to make some dinner for the two of us," Amber told him. "Donovan and Dante decided to walk the perimeter. Make sure no one's lurking about the place."
He nodded. "Not a bad idea. Stiles still has a lot of associates. Roland?"
"I think he's off somewhere waiting for Rhiannon. He misses her terribly," Tamara said softly.
Eric met her eyes, and a silent exchange passed between them. Amber lowered her own eyes and pretended not to notice, but it did make her ache a little for the object of her own ill-advised affection.
"Where is Edge?" she asked, wondering why he wasn't still with Eric.
"He's not out here with you?"
"No. Last I knew he was going to the lab to check on your progress."
"That's odd," Eric said. "He told me he was coming out to join you."
Amber's heart skipped. Edge had told her he would take care of everything, that he would find a way to make Stiles talk before he died. What if... ?
Tamara met her eyes, read her thoughts there. "He wouldn't harm Stiles. He's completely set aside his desire for vengeance, Amber."
She licked her lips. "I know that. But still... " She got to her feet, belly first. It had swollen even larger during the course of the night. "Tell me where you're keeping Stiles, Eric. I have to make sure."
"We'll come with you," Tamara said, rising as well, and taking Amber's arm as if she needed help.
Together they went back into the house, up the stairs and all the way down the ornate hall to the very end. Eric opened a door there, onto another staircase, this one old, looking seldom used. He led the way up these stairs and through yet another door at the top, into the giant house's attic.
"You hid him up here?"
"Edge said to get him our of your reach," Eric said as he led them across a plank floor. "Though I found it pretty odd that he'd have any desire to protect him."
"He wasn't protecting Stiles. He was protecting Amber," Tam said.
Amber sniffed. "Stiles is in no condition to be any threat to me."
"Not physically, no." Tamara squeezed her arm. "But emotionally. Amber, if you lost control, if you took his life, I'm not sure you'd ever get over it. Not you. You're not a killer. You have a gentle soul, despite your tough exterior. Edge has seen it. He knows."
Amber thinned her lips and kept her eyes forward as she picked her way through the attic, over dust bunnies and stacked boxes, through a door at one end, where a bedroom had been set up. Bed, nightstand and lamp. A peaked wall, with a window in it. Not much more. The covers on the bed were rumpled, but no one was in it. And the window was open.
Eric stared for a moment, then turned to face the two of them. "Stiles is gone."
"And so is Edge." The voice came from behind, and Amber turned to see Roland standing there. "I found Stiles gone moments ago, and I've searched the place for Edge. He's not here."
Amber had to grab the foot of the bed to keep herself upright.
Eric lowered a hand onto her shoulder. "I know, Amber. I know it's disappointing. God, I was so certain he'd put his need for vengeance aside for your sake, but-"
"That's not what this is," she blurted.
Everyone stared at her, no one speaking. But she knew what they were thinking. That she was one of those pathetic women who fell in love and then went blind. Who refused to see the faults that glared at everyone else like neon. And for a moment she wondered if it was true.
"Amber, dear child," Roland said gently, "I know it's difficult to accept that someone you care about might not have your best interests at heart, but-''
"If Edge took Stiles, he took him to try to get the truth out of him. Not to kill him. He wouldn't."
The men looked at each other. Tamara slid an arm around her. "She's right. The man wouldn't abandon her. Not now."
"Tam, it might be best not to nurture false hope," Eric began.
"Oh, for God's sake! Listen to you. I know a man in love when I see one, and that man is completely out of his mind in love with Amber."
Amber shot her eyes to Tarn's.
"Come on, dear. You're pale as wraith. You need to lie down."
"I need to eat," she said.
"You two get going. Go fetch Dante and Donovan, and then all of you go out and try to find Edge," Tam said.
The two men left in a hurry. Tam and Amber followed more slowly, and when the men were out of sight, Amber said, "He's not, you know."
"Not what?"
"In love with me. Edge is a free spirit. A loner. He's not a romantic, not the kind who falls in love."
Tam smiled at her. "Is that what you think?"
"It's what I know."
"And you think you know him pretty well?"
"Inside and out," she said. "Sometimes it's like we're inside each other's minds. I understand him."
"I can see that."
"And I know he's not in love. But I also know he wouldn't have made the promises he made to me if he were going to break them at the first opportunity. He's up to something, Tam. He must think he knows a way to get Stiles to talk."
Tam nodded. "Keep on believing in him, Amber. No matter what the others may say. You know him best."
"I do."
They reached the ground floor, and Tam led her to the sofa in the large sitting room, the one near the gas fireplace. Amber let herself be coddled, feeling fragile, drained and overly emotional. She leaned against the pillow-padded arm and drew her legs up beside her. "He'll come back, Tam," she whispered. "I know he will."
Tam nodded. "You hold on to that."
She tried. But it wasn't easy. The night wore on, and the men returned from searching having found no sign of Edge or Stiles. They made less and less effort to conceal their anger. When Amber's parents and Rhiannon arrived, with Morgan in tow, Amber was beside herself, worrying they, too, would jump to the wrong conclusions and believe the worst about Edge.
That worry faded slightly, though, with her surprise when Sarafina and Willem came in through the entryway behind them. Will was ashen, bent over, dragging his feet and leaning heavily on his walking stick, one arm slung around Tina's shoulders.
Amber came off the sofa in her shock at his appearance. How could he have worsened so drastically in such a short time?
She rushed toward him, only to stop short at the shocked look on his face. And then she realized he wasn't the only one looking at her that way. Her parents seemed stunned, and Rhiannon gaped at her. "My God," she said. "This is even worse than we imagined."
"Oh, it gets better," Eric called. "Jameson, join us in the library, won't you? We need a word."
Jameson lifted his brows, then nodded. "I'll be back, honey."
"Dad, wait."
"Just... give me a minute."
"I'm coming, too," Rhiannon said, and the two of them strode off to the library, following Eric. Donovan, Dante and Roland were already in there.
"It's as if they think I'm already dead," Will said, his voice weak, hoarse, but laced with humor. "How are you, Amber Lily?" He held out his arms, though Sarafina kept one of hers anchored around his waist.
Amber moved into them, hugging him gently. "You look like hell," she said.
"And you look like you swallowed a beach ball."
She backed away, smiling at him.
"Well, I'll be damned if I'll be left out of the deep dark meeting in the next room. Think you can get me that far, my love?" Will asked.
Sarafina smiled up at him. "Not until we get what we came for, darling." She looked to Tamara. "The second dose?"
"It's in Eric's lab. Go ahead and take him to the library, 'Fina. I'll get it and bring it right in."
Nodding, Sarafina pulled Will's arm around her. Amber placed herself on the other side of him, but her mother held up a hand and took that spot for herself, though she couldn't seem to tug her gaze from Amber's swollen middle.
"I'm huge. I know."
"You're beautiful. Glowing, but you look exhausted, too." Angelica smiled. "I'm just so shocked. Tarn's phone call didn't prepare us for the sight of you."
"Well, she probably gave you the accurate account at the time. I seem to expanding exponentially."
Her mother sent her a worried look.
"Edge has forbidden me to think about that," Amber said.
"About what?"
"What happens if this rapid development continues after he's born. Will he be twenty by this time next year? Will he die of old age before he starts school? What if he can't even survive the birth itself?"
"Amber, stop it," Will said. And he put more power behind those words than anything he'd said since he'd arrived. He shot her a stern look. "Edge is right. What earthly good can thoughts like those do either of you?"
"None, Will. I know that. But knowing it doesn't stop the questions from echoing constantly in my mind."
They'd made it nearly to the library. Will moved very slowly and needed to stop every few yards to rest before moving on.
"What do you suppose the big meeting is about?" Angelica asked.
Amber sighed. "It's about Edge. He's vanished and taken Stiles with him."
Angelica's eyes widened.
"Eric and Roland seem to think Edge decided to have his revenge on Stiles after all. But I know better." She opened the library door, then stood aside so that Sarafina and Angelica could help Will inside.
"The bastard," Rhiannon was saying. "If he harms that man before we learn what we need to know I'll-"
"Don't be ridiculous, Princess." It was Jameson who interrupted her. "You're all being ridiculous. I spent time with the man, more so than any of you did. If he took Stiles out of here, then it was because he thought he knew how to make him talk."
"I'd like to agree with you, Jamey," Roland said, his voice sad. "But if making him talk were the lad's goal, he could have done it right here."
"It's not his fault," Donovan said. "Don't forget, he had no one to teach him, no one to explain things."
"That was more than fifty years ago, Donovan. For God's sake, you explained what happened. If he's using that as an excuse-" Dante began.
"I haven't heard him use any excuse at all!" Jameson exploded. "God, you're all tossing around explanations for an evil that doesn't exist in the man. I'm telling you, he's taken Stiles to make him talk."
"Just what method could he employ elsewhere that he couldn't have employed here?" Eric asked.
Before anyone could answer, Tamara burst into the room. "The Ambrosia-Six!" she cried, a white foam box in her hands. "It's gone!"
"No," Amber whispered. She clutched Will's arm. "Please, God, not that."
Will nodded slowly. "Well, I guess that answers your question," he said. "As to what method Edge could use to make Stiles talk that he couldn't use here. He's bribing him-with life."
Jameson closed his eyes. "Will's right. Stiles is the kind of man who craves immortality at any cost. He'd have given anything for that last dose of A-Six. Even if he knew there was a possibility it wouldn't work. Edge likely knew it was the only chance to get the truth out of him."
"No," Sarafina whispered. "By Devel, no!"
Will pulled her against him, though he had to brace his back against the wall to remain standing. "If Edge can get information that can help Amber and the baby, it's well worth it. I would have done the same."
She moaned against him, crying openly.
"Don't you hold this against him, Amber Lily," Willem told her. "Don't you do it. You know I'm not willing to live at your expense-or that child's. You know it. If he hadn't done it, I'd have found a way myself."
His knees bent a little. Sarafina lifted herself away, clutching him around the waist. She turned to the others. "We need to get him into a bed. He has to rest."
Nodding, Jameson strode forward, lifting Will easily and carrying him out of the room, with Sarafina right behind.
"I'll go see if they need anything," Tamara whispered, hurrying away.
"Donovan, you and I should continue to search for Edge until dawn," Dante said. "You, as his sire, would have the strongest bond to him."
He was wrong, Amber thought, sinking into a chair. She had the strongest bond to Edge. She'd been right to believe he wouldn't exact vengeance on Stiles at her expense. She'd been right to believe he had only taken the man to try to extract his secrets.
But had she been wrong to trust him? Had he just signed the death sentence of her best friend?
Tears welled in her eyes, and then more came when it felt as if a giant fist closed around her lower back and abdomen. The pressure was intense. She screamed, and thought the entire household probably heard it.
"So, here we are. Just the two of us. Ironic, isn't it? That of all people, I'd be the one with you at the end?" Edge sat in a rickety wooden chair, smoking a cigarette and studying the old man, who lay on the floor, a tarp over him for a blanket. Edge had carried the old bastard on his back until he'd located an abandoned farmhouse. He was using a shed out back. The house would have been too obvious. And hell, he didn't need too much time, anyway. This shouldn't take all that long.
"We both know," Stiles said slowly, "this isn't the end."
"Isn't it?"
"You aren't going to let me die."
Edge shrugged, took a slow drag and blew out the smoke. "I think that depends on you, Stiles. I'd like nothing better than to watch you die. Maybe even help you. But lucky for you, I've found something else to live for, besides vengeance." He nodded. "And your notes are somewhat... incomplete.''
He pointed to his head, tapped it with a forefinger. "Some things, I keep right here."
"What sorts of things?"
"The formula, for one."
"Oh, we've figured out the formula. That Marquand, he's quite the science buff, you know. You're going to have to do better than that if you want the little present I brought you." As he said it, Edge drew the vial from his coat pocket, held it close enough to Stiles so the old man could read the label, though he had to squint to focus.
His eyes brightened with hope; he licked his lips. "You'll give it to me?"
Edge nodded. "If you tell me what you know about Amber. And the baby."
"How do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain?"
Edge shrugged, reached into his pocket, pulled out a syringe, and tore off the cellophane wrapper. He stuck it into the vial, piercing the stopper and drawing all of the fluid up into the hypodermic. "I'll let you hold the needle. How's that?"
He offered it to the man. Frowning, Stiles took it, and immediately turned it toward his arm.
"Ah-ah-ah," Edge said, and he pinned Stiles's hand to the floor at the wrist. "You can't inject yourself until you've told me what I want to know. I'm not stupid. I let you inject it now, you won't tell me a thing."
"You may not let me anyway," he said. "You're far stronger than I am now."
"I'm also the only chance you have, Stiles. Now, are you going to start talking, or are you going to keep wasting time?"
He frowned, nodded. "Where do you want me to begin?"
"At the beginning," Edge said. "As in, conception."
"Ahh." Stiles nodded. "Well, it's got to be her blood. It has healing properties, you know. Always has had just a hint of that, even as a girl. That was one of the things I learned about her the first time I held her. One of the things I didn't put in my notes." He shook his head slowly. "But it was nothing like the degree it possesses now. I believe that when your sperm cells entered her body, they were... healed. Revivified by that slight healing energy she's always possessed. They were brought back to life. She made you fertile again. Probably only with her, though."
"She is one of a kind," he muttered.
"What's that?"
"Nothing." Edge told himself to focus and returned his attention to Stiles. "Her blood chemistry changed once she became pregnant."
"Yes. I was running tests on her blood the night you all came bursting in on me. It's far more powerful now, but volatile. Unpredictable."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I can't predict how it's going to react to any test. One sample of plasma injected into a rat made it grow to twice its normal size in two hours. Another rat died, and a third gave birth."
"It was already pregnant?'' Edge asked.
"It had been sterilized," Stiles told him.
Edge frowned. "What are you saying?"
"Sometimes the blood healed, sometimes it caused... inexplicable things to happen. There was no pattern, no rationale. And yet it was obviously the most powerful fluid imaginable. So I made the formula. Ambrosia-Seven. And I... I couldn't resist the allure of so much power."
"So you injected yourself," Edge said.
Stiles nodded. "And immediately began to age."
"You think the A-Six will reverse the process?"
"It's the only thing that might."
"What if it only stops it?" Edge asked. "Suppose it only makes you stay as you are, right now, for years and years?"
"That's a chance I'm willing to take."
Edge shook his head.
"Can I take the injection now?"
"Just one or two more questions, old man. Then you can do whatever you want."
He nodded. "You want to know about the baby. About what its chances are, what it will be. I don't know those things. I have no way of knowing those things."
Edge nodded, believing the man for once.
"And what about Amber? Will her blood chemistry return to normal once the baby is born?"
Stiles nodded. "Her mother's did."
"What?"
"DPI held her mother throughout her pregnancy. Kept close tabs on her. Her blood chemistry was altered drastically during her pregnancy, though not in the same way as Amber's was. We took another sample right after the delivery. And it had returned to prepregnancy condition. I have no reason to believe Amber's won't do the same."
"You were there when Amber Lily was born?"
"I was there."
"Were there any... complications?"
The old man nodded. "Yes. We almost lost her, in fact."
"Amber Lily or her mother?" Edge asked, leaning forward.
"The mother. It was due to the intense pain of the delivery. Your kind... don't do so well with pain." He shrugged. "Not that anyone cared about the mother at that point."
"Of course not. She was just a means to an end to you."
"If not for us, your precious Amber Lily wouldn't even exist."
"I think maybe she would. I think maybe fate had more to do with that than you or DPI or anyone else."
"Fate." Stiles spat out the word.
Edge lit another smoke, leaned back, releasing Stiles's wrist but remaining close enough to grab it faster than the old man could move it six inches. He knew that Stiles realized it, as well, because he didn't even try. "You have a theory, don't you? About why Amber's body chemistry has changed so drastically? About why her blood suddenly has this volatile healing power?"
Stiles held his gaze, nodded.
"Then you tell me what it is. And don't leave anything out. Then you can have your injection," he told Stiles.
Stiles nodded, took a breath and kept on talking.