The Ortega Project Read online

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Seth muted the television. He jumped up and faced Roman. “You know you can’t miss any of the treatments or they won’t work.”

  “You worry too much, Seth,” Roman said

  “No shit,” Gabriel snapped, one of the few times the two were in agreement.

  Roman pulled off his leather jacket and tossed it on the long, brown suede sofa to his left. He kicked off his boots and made himself comfortable on his recliner. His stomach growled. Alex eased into the recliner to Roman’s immediate left.

  “Sit down, Seth, and take a load off.” Roman stretched and yawned.

  Seth did as instructed and lowered himself back into his chair. He un-muted the television and immediately became engrossed in one of the movie’s graphic bloodbaths.

  “I’m fucking starving, man.” Gabriel sat up, clutching the armrests. “This depending on others is bullshit.”

  Their early morning meal hadn’t yet arrived. And empty bellies made it impossible to fall asleep. It was bedtime. They were tired. They were hungry. They needed to feed.

  Footsteps echoed from the laboratory next door. Inside, someone turned on the light and started rummaging around.

  From his vantage point, Roman craned his neck to get a look at who had entered the lab. “It’s Crawford. It won’t be long now.” He leaned further in his recliner to watch the doctor mix the formula.

  Crawford stood at the stainless steel counter, pouring red liquid into a large metal pitcher. He stirred the solution, poured it into four metal tumblers, screwed lids on each, and lined them up on a metal cart.

  He pushed the squeaky-wheeled cart into the lounge, and stopped in front of the recliners. Starting from the left—with Roman—Crawford handed each a tumbler.

  “Drink up, gentlemen,” he said and picked up a clipboard. “Good news. Installation of the new fencing is now complete and will provide even greater security than before. We’ve also installed additional cameras in the rear of the building and the parking lot.”

  Doc Peters entered the lounge. A head taller, much younger, and with twice as much hair as his boss, he greeted everyone before making a beeline to Roman.

  He crouched next to Roman’s recliner. “Just a heads up. The exact time you returned and the fact you were alone when you finally decided to show up, did not go unnoticed.”

  “Thanks for the warning. But something came up that required my attention.”

  Crawford cleared his throat, signaling Doc to join him in front of the group. “I want to start out by reporting that the formula’s success has exceeded our expectations.” He nodded to Peters. “Since it’s your creation, would you make the announcement?”

  “I’d be honored.” Doc sucked in a deep breath. “Since beginning the program, we’ve noticed several physical changes. Most notably, the ability to tolerate daylight and your cravings for food.” His voice elevated with excitement. “Naturally, we attributed these changes to your being weaned from real blood to the formula.”

  Roman’s heart pounded, pumping hope for normalcy into his 230 year-old body.

  “At first, we couldn’t believe it.” Doc began pacing. “So, to confirm our suspicions, we ordered more blood work.” A broad grin spread across his face. “And we were amazed to discover your blood had taken on human characteristics. In each of you, vampirism is diminishing. We’ve been unable to determine how or why this is happening, but we suspect you’re becoming—”

  “Human,” Crawford said, finishing the sentence.

  Silence and hope sucked the air out of the lounge.

  Had Roman heard correctly? “Run that by us again?”

  “By some miracle,” Doc explained, “it appears you are becoming living, breathing human beings. To verify…we need to run further tests.”

  “That’s impossible,” Gabriel argued.

  The announcement wasn’t a total surprise to Roman, he’d started noticing subtle physical changes in himself. At first, he didn’t dare believe what his body told him or led him to believe. A lump formed in his throat. Had God given them a second chance at a normal life? If the miraculous results were true, the vampires he’d moved out of the area to keep them safe could return to their homes in Orange County. The danger of anaphylactic shock destroying them would no longer be a concern. Their days of feeding on animal blood would be over and the hope of reclaiming their lost humanity would begin.

  Crawford flipped to another page on the clipboard. “Going forward, we’ll be monitoring each of you more closely while we continue testing the formula. But the biggest kudos belong to Seth. Were it not for his constant nagging to create a more natural tasting formula, along with his complaints about the bitter aftertaste, we might never have discovered this miracle. His unrelenting protests were what drove us to improve the flavor, which in turn, perfected the formula. And so, you have Seth’s refined palate to thank for your emerging humanity.

  “Yeah, the old stuff tasted stale,” Seth noted, shivering. “You know the old saying, ‘Nothing tastes better than fresh.’”

  Gabriel lifted his tumbler. “To Seth.”

  Roman and Alex did likewise and repeated, in unison, “To Seth.”

  After toasting Seth, they drained their tumblers.

  Crawford checked the large clock above the door. “I’m sure you have plenty of questions, but please hold them until Peters and I have more time to address your concerns. In the meantime, get a good day’s sleep and I’ll be back again this evening.”

  On his way out the door, Crawford flipped a switch on the wall and dimmed the lights. He made a hasty exit, followed by Doc Peters.

  Roman couldn’t believe his good fortune. He was becoming human. That would explain why human food started smelling less repugnant. Why he longed for a mortal female’s companionship. Were his dreams of finding true love finally becoming a reality?

  While his team quietly discussed the possibility of becoming mortal, his thoughts returned to Grace. Being human would solve a major problem by eliminating the need to hide his vampirism from her. He smiled. How he loved the sound of her name. Grace.

  The morning sun peeked in through the window blinds. Warmth from the outdoors drifted into the lounge. Sleep would come soon. And when evening came, he would wake up and visit her at the club. If he were very lucky, he’d hold her, kiss her, and taste her. His eyelids closed and he drifted off. Hopefully, to sleep and dream of Grace.

  4

  Grace

  The day after meeting Roman, Grace raced to claim an empty picnic table in the campus cafeteria courtyard. She dropped her heavy backpack on the table and rolled her shoulders, trying to get feeling back into her arms and hands.

  Overhead, puffy clouds dotted the sapphire sky. Its serene beauty lured her thoughts away from her class project. And a warm breeze feathered her arms—reminding her of Roman’s touch. His kiss. She arched her back and closed her eyes, basking in the wind’s gentle caress. From nearby bushes, the sweet perfume of gardenia wafted toward her.

  She unzipped her backpack and pulled out a thick, manila folder stuffed with pages of calculations she needed to analyze the pesticide project before tomorrow’s lab. As team leader, she’d fought the faculty advisor to use only natural ingredients. She’d won the battle, but knew the project’s success or failure fell on her shoulders. Spreading her papers on the table, she sorted them chronologically. Once the data was in order, she pulled at the hem of her tight, red T-shirt, and eased herself down on the bench.

  Someone grabbed her shoulders from behind. She gasped and jumped, nearly falling backwards.

  “Sorry.” Brent, one of her best and longest friends on campus, grinned at her surprised reaction.

  “Brent, you scared the crap out of me.”

  A surfer, Brent had entered her life during registration their freshman year. They’d hit it off and became friends. Tall and movie-star handsome, he was never without an incredible tan or a Hawaiian print shirt. But he was too vanilla fo
r her. She preferred edgier men—like Roman.

  He set his books on the bench and sat next to her. “By that smile on your face, I can tell your vacation went well. How’s your fiancé?”

  “Okay.” She folded her arms to hide her naked ring finger. If he’d notice her ringless finger, there’d be a ton of questions about why she wasn’t wearing her diamond. She’d considered wearing her ring to work to ward off unwanted male attention. But wearing the diamond after the breakup would serve as a reminder of her failed romance. Either way, she didn’t feel like rehashing the humiliating events surrounding her disastrous vacation.

  As Grace and Brent grumbled about the pitfalls of enrolling in summer classes, Deanna joined them, grinning from ear to ear.

  “What brings you to my neck of the woods?” Grace said.

  “I’ve been accepted into the nursing program,” Deanna answered with pride, setting her leather shoulder bag on the bench next to her, and a frosty bottle of green tea on the corner of the table, away from Grace’s data.

  Realizing her study time was not going to happen, Grace began piling her paperwork into one neat stack, taking care not to disrupt the chronological order. “That’s awesome. Congratulations. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thanks.” Deanna eyeballed Brent and her wide grin slipped into a seductive smile. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” She adjusted the collar on her navy polo shirt.

  Grace rested her hand on his muscular arm. “This is Brent. He’s a philosophy major. A deep thinker,” she said, making air quotes. “Right, Brent?”

  Color rose in his cheeks. He pushed himself up from the table. “I should get going.”

  Grace winced. Embarrassing him wasn’t her intent. She grabbed his arm. “I didn’t mean to chase you away.”

  “You didn’t. I’m running late and need to get going.” He faced Deanna. “Unlike Grace here, I’m a masochist. I’ve signed up for three classes this semester.”

  “I’m impressed,” Deanna said, showing him her best I’d-like-to-get-to-know-you grin.

  “Why don’t you stop by the club tonight and I’ll buy you a drink,” Grace said.

  He shook his head and ran his fingers through his sun-bleached, chin-length hair. “Nah, that’s okay. See you tomorrow, Grace.”

  “Sure thing.”

  He reached across the table to shake Deana’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Same here.” Deanna watched him pick up his books and hustle away. “Someone you’re interested in?”

  “Not my type. He’s never set one foot in the club and I doubt he ever will. He doesn’t even drink.” She shrugged. “He knows I’m only messing with him.”

  “You sure about that? He looked pretty uncomfortable, if you ask me. Sometimes stuff like that can come back to bite you in the ass. He seems like a nice guy.”

  “He is. Want me to hook you up?”

  Deanna paused, contemplating the possibility. “Maybe. Damn, he’s hot.” Deanna set her shoulder bag on the table and adjusted the strap. “I’ve been meaning to ask. How’d things go with Roman? I assume you made it home in one piece.”

  “Of course.” Grace could talk about Roman all day. But she needed to study—to concentrate, and choosing the patio outside the cafeteria had been a mistake. “I need to get home to finish analyzing this data. Let’s talk on the way to the parking lot.” She gathered her paperwork, and slipped it carefully inside her bulging backpack and zipped it up. Wincing, she swung it over her already sore shoulder.

  Deanna picked up her handbag and bottle of tea. “Have you heard from Roman today?”

  “Not yet, but my mom called. She took the breakup worse than me. You’d think she was the one engaged to Jake.” Leaving the courtyard, she stared at her ring finger and sighed. Without her diamond, her left hand felt naked.

  “Don’t be so hard on your mom. She only wants what’s best for you.” Deanna drained her bottle of tea and tossed the empty into a recycle can.

  “Yeah, right.” With one hand on the railing, Grace trotted down the long flight of stairs.

  Deanna followed close behind. “About Jake. Are you okay?”

  “We’d been together since high school. He was my first.”

  “A woman never forgets her first time.”

  “He was also my only. How pathetic is that?” Her voice broke and she stopped her descent midway down the stairs. “Twenty-four years old and he’s the only guy I’ve ever had sex with.”

  Deanna put her arm around Grace’s shoulder. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  She grimaced. “I’m not ashamed. I just regret wasting all that time on him…for nothing.”

  “It looks like Roman’s pretty interested.” Deanna gave Grace’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

  Hearing Roman’s name brought a smile. “I hope so. That man sure can get a woman’s motor running. And you want to know something else? It’s about time I went out and started sowing some wild oats of my own. Seriously. Why should guys have all the fun?”

  “You go, girl!”

  They shared a robust laugh.

  Grace’s smile faded. “Thank you for being here for me. I could never get through this without you.”

  “That’s what friends are for, sweetie. I know you’d do the same for me.” Deanna checked her watch. “I hate to cut this short, but I’ve gotta catch some Z’s before my shift. Are you working tonight?”

  “Try keeping me away.” Grace grabbed the railing and continued down the stairs. “Roman’s going to be there. So I guess I’d better move fast if I’m going to sow those wild oats.”

  “Have fun, but be careful,” Deanna warned. “Why not sow those wild oats with someone you know? What about the guy I just met?”

  “Brent?” Grace laughed at the absurdity of her friend’s remark. “He’s hot, but like I told you, we’re friends. Nothing more. I’d rather have a relationship I can sink my teeth into.”

  5

  Grace

  That evening, when Grace walked through the door of After Dark to begin her shift, conversations halted and everyone’s gaze swung in her direction.

  With clenched jaw, she marched behind the bar, grabbed Mark by the arm, and dragged him into the back room.

  “You told them, didn’t you?”

  He didn’t have to answer. A who-me expression plastered on his face said it all.

  “Why?” She groaned and gestured toward the bar. “Now I have to deal with those horn-dogs bugging me to go out. Being engaged used to be my excuse for not dating them. What am I going to tell them now? God, Mark! How could you do that to me? I thought I could trust you. I thought we were friends.”

  “We are. But everybody’s going to find out eventually.”

  She threw up her hands in defeat. “Whatever.” Betrayed. Her stomach rumbled and she fought the urge to throw up.

  “Sorry.” He cringed. “I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”

  But to Grace, it was a big deal. A very big deal. “Thanks a lot.”

  “I wish I could take back,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t think—”

  “That’s right. You didn’t think.”

  “Geez, Grace. I’m sorry.” He glanced at the doors leading to the bar. “Can we talk about this later? I need to get back.”

  She sighed. “Go ahead.”

  “Sorry,” Mark repeated and left through the swinging doors.

  Great, just great. How in the world would she be able to discourage Chuck, her most persistent wannabe suitor? The guy had a wife and kids, for God’s sake, and had no business asking her or anyone else out.

  Thanks to her discussion with Mark, she was probably late for her shift and needed to hurry. She opened her locker, slipped out of her jacket, and hung it on a hanger. She checked her image in the full-length mirror. Her hangdog expression would never do. Lifting her chin, she plastered on a confident smile. A sweeping stroke of a hairbrush and another coat of red lip gloss did the trick. She sucked in
a big gulp of air and pushed open the swinging double doors leading to the bar.

  Tonight, she’d keep conversations with customers light. She didn’t want to give anyone the opportunity to trap her into talking about Jake. Or ask her out. God only knew what humiliating details Mark had blabbed to the regulars.

  Doe-eyed stares, weak smiles, and sympathetic-sounding murmurs greeted her as she settled in behind the bar. She let out a weary sigh. This could turn out to be a very long night.

  At least she had one thing to be excited about. Roman promised to drop by. Thanks to Mark’s poking holes in her confidence, she couldn’t help wondering if the reason Roman planned to show up at the club was her or Dark Syde, the group he supposedly knew.

  Everyone in her station had full drinks in front of them, so she busied herself by refilling beer glasses from the tap for Deanna and Mark. She tried, unsuccessfully, to avoid glancing at the front door, hoping to catch a glimpse of Roman’s arrival.

  Butterflies fluttered in her stomach whenever she thought about him—which was often. She tried focusing on work, but whenever she closed her eyes, all she saw were his piercing dark eyes staring at her. And that kiss. Daydreaming about lying next to, or under… Stop it, dammit. You just met him. This is nuts. Nothing made sense. Everything was happening too fast. They hadn’t even gone on a regular date, yet she found herself fantasizing about what he might be like as a lover.

  Or did she consider Roman a rebound-lay? She snapped her eyelids shut in humiliation. God, she was pathetic. Needy.

  Whatever the reason, she longed to feel a man’s strong arms around her. Roman’s arms. And his hard body pressed against hers. She wanted to feel…wanted.

  At six o’clock, the band still hadn’t shown up. And when six-thirty came and went, curious customers buzzed like insects. Clusters of patrons milled around, speculating about what might be delaying the band. Bartenders fielded questions about the musicians.

  The back door creaked open. Silence. Everyone at the bar spun around to face the stage. When the band made their appearance, cheers erupted.