“Yes,” I said, trying to place the vaguely familiar voice.
He cleared his throat. “Mrs. Andreas, this is Dr. Wolk,” he said and his tone set off a wealth of alarms through my form, jolting my heart into a pounding rhythm and my grip on my phone tightened.
I swallowed the dry fear from my mouth. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, there seems to be an issue with your blood sample.”
“Diabetes?”
“No, at least not in this sample. It looks like someone introduced feline DNA with yours. I’m sorry for the mix up, but we need you to come back in for another blood test.”
I stared out the window. “What do you mean feline DNA?”
“The sample had a trace of feline DNA along with yours, like a cat hair was present in the vial, so all we can surmise is that the lab screwed up or the containers were contaminated.”
I sat down heavily on the couch. “Um, we’re headed out of the country to visit Damian’s relatives. Can I follow up with you when we get back?”
There was silence on the line and then a hurried, “That will be fine, thank you for understanding.” A dial tone stretched through the line and I disconnected the call.
I was still in shock when Damian stepped into the room with a box in his arms. He put it on the table and met my gaze.
“What’s up?”
I stared at the computer and peripherals sticking out of the box and then looked up at him. “I don’t have diabetes, but apparently my blood contains traces of feline DNA.”
His eyebrows arched and he slid onto the couch.
“They think it’s a lab error or a contaminated vial, but...” I trailed off. I thought the tiger was a left over result of the shadow virus. Damian sat with his mouth open in shock, so he obviously thought the same thing. He blinked and cocked his head.
“Does that mean my blood contains traces of hawk DNA?”
I didn’t even want to consider the ramifications of what this meant for the baby in my belly, but one image kept flashing before my eyes. The symbol for my grandfather’s specific bloodline: a winged-tiger.
“They wanted me to come down for another blood test, but I told him we were headed out of the country.”
“Quick thinking,” Damian said and stood, retreating to the bedroom to change. He hadn’t said a word about my attire, and I appreciated it. He returned in the clean clothing I had laid out for him and dropped his dirty clothing in the garbage, sealing it and dumping it out in the garage.
“You about ready?” he asked after he finished packing his laptop and note pads that were scattered over the coffee table.
I looked up at him, still in shock from the news. “You did everything, including fixing the keypad?”
He nodded. “It took a little longer than I wanted though,” he said and I glanced at the clock.
A little over an hour had passed since I started packing. Of course, it took me forever to find something that fit over my belly. “We might need to go shopping before we find a place to stay,” I said and stood, waving toward the sweats. “I had nothing that fit.”
He pressed his lips into a tight smile. His attempt at hiding the budding humor lost, and instead of addressing the breach in manners, he picked up the box and disappeared into the garage.
“Did you want to do a quick walk through?” he asked and I nodded.
“I already packed the mural,” I said. That was the one thing that followed us from place to place and I know it meant a great deal to him. He gave a nod and pulled out his phone. I turned away, heading to the bedroom and scanning the vacant dresser shelves. Opening and closing drawers and dressers before doing the same in the bathroom. On impulse, I grabbed the first aid kit and opened it, dumping the headache remedies, anti-biotic ointment and bandages into the box before clipping it closed.
Damian held my coat open as I stepped into the living room. He had Ted’s thick hunting jacket on instead of the sleek leather he usually wore.
“I figured Ted could use something fancier than this. Especially since this one is better for packing,” he said. “I also have all the extra ammunition for his nine-millimeter stored in the trunk.”
“Does he know?” I said, feeling the first bite of irritation, but it disappeared with a nod from Damian.
“He doesn’t know I left him my coat, but I did ask if we could take the gun. He has no issue with it and in a few weeks, he’ll report it stolen. In the meantime, he’ll keep us informed of Valerie’s condition,” he said and led me to the car.
“Ready?” he asked once he settled into the driver’s seat.
“I’m ready. Are you?” I asked, glancing at his shaking hands.
He followed my gaze and chuckled. “I have to admit, I’m a little nervous. I have no idea what’s waiting for us out there.”
Chapter 11 - Damian