slid the frame back into its slot, the bees would go to work, trimming the plug or adding wax to it until it would blend so perfectly as to be undiscoverable.
And inside the cell, the contents of the solution would go to work on the developing bee. If it worked, the descendants of that queen would be impervious to -the ravages of the fertilizer.
If it didn't, the queen would simply die, and Henderson would return to his lab to begin again.
Finishing with the first hive, he replaced the top supers, then moved on to the second. He was just about to lift its lid when he heard a sound behind him.
A slight gasp.
The kind of gasp someone makes when he comes upon something unexpected.
Or frightening.
Stiffening, Carl Henderson straightened up, then slowly turned to face whoever was behind him, already prepared to explain his presence as nothing more than a routine check on the hives.
Henderson's own breath caught as he recognized Julie Spellman. It was the first time he'd seen her since the wedding, and now, as his eyes locked on hers, he felt his hands clench into tight fists.
Once again, her long black hair was cascading down her back, and once again her dark eyes were fixed on him, just as they had fixed on him at the wedding.
His emotions churned and his fingers began to work.
Don't! he told himself. Don't go near her. Don't touch her. Don't even look at her!
Yet he couldn't keep himself from looking at her.
His eyes fastened on her, and in the deep recesses of his mind, darkness began to close around him.
A terrifying darkness-a darkness filled with nameless horrors that were reaching out to him.
He could already feel talons of fear sinking deeply into his soul, and hear a mocking laughter in his ears.
It was a laughter out of the past, as the fear that threatened to overwhelm him was also a tenor out of the past.
The laughter triggered a blind rage within Carl Henderson, and though he had no conscious memory of the source of either the laughter or the rage, he knew where they would take him.
voices were whispering to him now, urging him to vent the fury within. He wanted to give in to the voices, wanted to let them lead him, let them show him how to quench the hatred that burned inside him.
But it was impossible!
This girl knew him.
Even worse, her mother and stepfather knew him, too.
if he gave in to the demons that dwelt within him-to the cold fury and the deep hatred that he had kept closeted for so many years-his secrets would be exposed.
Everyone would know what they made him do.
Yet even as he tried to struggle Against the blackness in side him, the battle was already lost, for his eyes remained fixed on Julie, remained fixed on that face that taunted him, mocked him, tortured him.
The darkness closed around him, and his ears were filled with the familiar humming that had haunted his nightmares for as long as he could remember.
His eyes glazing with the same dark look that had chilled Julie to the core only a few days ago, he started to ward her.
Julie instinctively backed away as she saw Carl Henderson move forward. "I-I was looking for Mr. Owen," she stammered.
"He's not here," Henderson said, his voice rasping in a way that sent a shiver through Julie. "Just me. Me, and YOU."
For an instant Julie didn't understand. He was staring at her the way he had stared at her at the wedding. As though he hated her. But he didn't even know her.
She took another step backward, but suddenly Carl Henderson's hand was on her arm, holding her.
"Stop it!" he said. "Stop laughing at me!"
Julie's eyes widened as fear formed a cold fist in her belly. What was he talking about? She wasn't laughing at him. She hadn't even known who he was when she'd first seen him! "I wasn't laughing-" she began, trying to pull her arm loose from his grip.
"You were!" he snarled. His free arm rose into the air, then arced downward, his hand lashing across her face.
"You're always laughing at me! Always!"
A scream erupted
And inside the cell, the contents of the solution would go to work on the developing bee. If it worked, the descendants of that queen would be impervious to -the ravages of the fertilizer.
If it didn't, the queen would simply die, and Henderson would return to his lab to begin again.
Finishing with the first hive, he replaced the top supers, then moved on to the second. He was just about to lift its lid when he heard a sound behind him.
A slight gasp.
The kind of gasp someone makes when he comes upon something unexpected.
Or frightening.
Stiffening, Carl Henderson straightened up, then slowly turned to face whoever was behind him, already prepared to explain his presence as nothing more than a routine check on the hives.
Henderson's own breath caught as he recognized Julie Spellman. It was the first time he'd seen her since the wedding, and now, as his eyes locked on hers, he felt his hands clench into tight fists.
Once again, her long black hair was cascading down her back, and once again her dark eyes were fixed on him, just as they had fixed on him at the wedding.
His emotions churned and his fingers began to work.
Don't! he told himself. Don't go near her. Don't touch her. Don't even look at her!
Yet he couldn't keep himself from looking at her.
His eyes fastened on her, and in the deep recesses of his mind, darkness began to close around him.
A terrifying darkness-a darkness filled with nameless horrors that were reaching out to him.
He could already feel talons of fear sinking deeply into his soul, and hear a mocking laughter in his ears.
It was a laughter out of the past, as the fear that threatened to overwhelm him was also a tenor out of the past.
The laughter triggered a blind rage within Carl Henderson, and though he had no conscious memory of the source of either the laughter or the rage, he knew where they would take him.
voices were whispering to him now, urging him to vent the fury within. He wanted to give in to the voices, wanted to let them lead him, let them show him how to quench the hatred that burned inside him.
But it was impossible!
This girl knew him.
Even worse, her mother and stepfather knew him, too.
if he gave in to the demons that dwelt within him-to the cold fury and the deep hatred that he had kept closeted for so many years-his secrets would be exposed.
Everyone would know what they made him do.
Yet even as he tried to struggle Against the blackness in side him, the battle was already lost, for his eyes remained fixed on Julie, remained fixed on that face that taunted him, mocked him, tortured him.
The darkness closed around him, and his ears were filled with the familiar humming that had haunted his nightmares for as long as he could remember.
His eyes glazing with the same dark look that had chilled Julie to the core only a few days ago, he started to ward her.
Julie instinctively backed away as she saw Carl Henderson move forward. "I-I was looking for Mr. Owen," she stammered.
"He's not here," Henderson said, his voice rasping in a way that sent a shiver through Julie. "Just me. Me, and YOU."
For an instant Julie didn't understand. He was staring at her the way he had stared at her at the wedding. As though he hated her. But he didn't even know her.
She took another step backward, but suddenly Carl Henderson's hand was on her arm, holding her.
"Stop it!" he said. "Stop laughing at me!"
Julie's eyes widened as fear formed a cold fist in her belly. What was he talking about? She wasn't laughing at him. She hadn't even known who he was when she'd first seen him! "I wasn't laughing-" she began, trying to pull her arm loose from his grip.
"You were!" he snarled. His free arm rose into the air, then arced downward, his hand lashing across her face.
"You're always laughing at me! Always!"
A scream erupted
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