Nightshades Read Online Free Page B

few tables set up to form a sort of
U
shape that closed off the hallway except for a slim opening, just wide enough for Tymer to squeeze through. Two female lab techs in white coats and surgical masks sat behind the table, fussing with equipment that Alex didn’t recognize. “Now, this here,” Tymer said with pride, “is my own brainchild. After the first escape attempt, our biggest concern was that a shade would either break in here or transmute one of our own agents, send him in to get Ambrose out. But as you probably know, we’ve yet to develop a decent blood test for codifying humans and shades.”
    Alex nodded. “Shade and human blood samples are similar all the way down to the DNA code, and that can take days to run.” Since Ambrose’s capture the previous year, every DNA lab in the country was backlogged.
    Tymer smiled, pleased. “Exactly. Our labs just aren’t fast enough, and my advisors say it’ll be a couple of years yet before we can put together an instant blood test. We spent the first six months trying to develop a high-tech test,” he explained as he held his badge and ID up to the first technician. “Something that could work at the speed we needed. Finally I realized we were overthinking it.” He paused, turning back to face Alex and Chase. “Are you aware of how we feed Ambrose?” he asked abruptly.
    Alex knew, but he tilted his body a little, indicating that Chase should step forward and join the conversation. “Blind donation from a bloodmobile,” Chase said, and Tymer gave him a pleased nod as if he were a star pupil at Quantico. Really, anyone with a newspaper would know how Ambrose was fed, because it had sparked quite the public debate a few months earlier. When biologists had finally confirmed that yes, Subject A did require human blood in order to survive, thousands of weirdos had rushed forward with offers to donate, hoping to be personally fed on by a vampire. At the same time, thousands of protestors had come forward claiming that there was no way in hell their tax dollars should do anything to help the evil filth survive. The BPI and a special police task force racked up overtime trying to get the two sides to calm down, while working on the thorny ethical issue of drawing blood from a free citizen and giving it to a federal prisoner.
    The quandary was eventually solved by the Red Cross, of all things. The company’s spokeswoman came forward and suggested that a permanent blood drive location could be set up specifically for the vampire groupies. From that supply, Ambrose would receive his minimal nutritional requirements, and the rest would be donated to the many good causes for which the Red Cross provided blood. The BPI decided to give it a three-month trial run, and the Red Cross reported exponential gains in blood donation, enough to nearly meet blood requirements at East Coast hospitals, for the first time in the history of the organization. These results eventually reduced the anti-vampire brigade to grumbles and mutters, which was a hell of a lot better than the street riots that had previously been threatened.
    “In every donation scenario,” Tymer went on, “there is a certain percentage of blood that simply can’t be used, because of the donor’s illness, health risks, and so on.” He smiled smugly. “We take possession of that excess, and use it for the simplest test imaginable.” He waved toward the lab tech, who pressed on one of the large containers, which was roughly the size and shape of a small copy machine. A door panel popped out, and she reached in and pulled out what looked like an especially high-quality Tupperware container, completely transparent. Inside, Alex could see a thick red liquid sloshing around, and his stomach churned just a little. Blood. He wasn’t one of those people who fainted at the sight of it, but he wasn’t an enormous fan, either.
    The second tech handed the first woman what looked like a gas mask with a long tube running