here."
"The hell it's not. Close the damn curtains. It's killing my eyes."
This time, she heard the pain in his voice and hurried to comply. "Okay, they're closed." She went around to the far side of the bed and dropped to her knees next to where he sat with his hand covering his eyes.
Through his parted fingers, she saw him crack open a lid experimentally before pulling his hand away. Lanie noticed that his eyes were red and bloodshot. "Are your eyes usually this sensitive to the light?"
"No," he grumbled.
Lanie added one more item to her growing list of concerns about Mac, but didn't pursue the matter with him. Instead, she changed the subject. "Dirk said we're leaving within the hour for the airfield."
Mac nodded. "Okay, let's get packed."
Lanie looked around the room, seeing all her father's things. Leaving them behind was like saying good-bye to him all over again. Mac must have realized what she was feeling because he heaved a sigh, stood up, and walked to the closet where he found one of her father's small suitcases.
"Come on," he said, laying it open on the bed. "We can't take it all, so only pack the important stuff. I'll arrange to have the rest of it shipped to you."
She wanted to hug him, but settled for a heartfelt "Thank you." The room was small and she was able to go through the contents quickly. In the end, she settled for taking her father's journal, several books, his favorite sweater, the laptop—and his pipe, which she found tucked into the pocket of his sweater.
Mac spent the majority of the ride back to the airfield thinking about all the changes to his body. What at first had seemed like a simple reaction to a rude awakening had turned out to be a legitimate hypersensitivity to sunlight. Not only was he having to wear his sunglasses outside, but earlier, with all the light streaming in through the windows, inside the facility as well.
Running his tongue across his teeth, he experimentally touched each one to see which ones had been knocked loose. Strangely, only the two upper canines moved freely. How was it possible for the animal to hit him in the jaw in such a way that only those two teeth were affected?
Mac stopped his inspection when he felt Lanie watching him. He blanked his expression but refused to meet her eyes, keeping his own fixed squarely on the road ahead. He knew she was worried about him, but not because she cared. It was because she thought he was turning into a vampire.
Mac wanted to scoff. The idea was absurd, ludicrous. Absolutely friggin' crazy. So why didn't he feel like laughing?
Damn Burton
, he thought,
and damn that chupa
—
whatever the hell it was called
. Instead of driving Lanie back to the airfield and flying her home, he should be out scouring the jungle. However, being retired from the service meant he had no right to stay behind at a government facility, nor did he have the authority to order a full team of SEALs to fly down and search the jungle for him. The best he could hope for was to convince Admiral Winslow that Burton was…
Was what? A vampire? Mac almost snorted out loud at
that
imagined conversation.
Without the many stops they'd made on the trip out, the trip back to the airfield took much less time. Even with the time savings, though, they arrived after the sunset.
Mac pulled up to the main building, wanting to get them cleared for takeoff and under way as soon as possible. He was digging papers out of the glove compartment when Lanie spoke for the first time since they'd gotten into the Jeep.
"Where is it?"
He glanced up to see her perplexed expression. "Where's what?"
"The plane."
His gaze shot over to the stretch of tarmac where he'd parked his plane. It wasn't there. Thinking that the ground crew had moved it, he scanned the area, but still saw no sign of it. Twenty minutes later, Mac verified that the plane was nowhere on the grounds. It had disappeared.
He could think of only one man who might have need of his plane
and
was
"The hell it's not. Close the damn curtains. It's killing my eyes."
This time, she heard the pain in his voice and hurried to comply. "Okay, they're closed." She went around to the far side of the bed and dropped to her knees next to where he sat with his hand covering his eyes.
Through his parted fingers, she saw him crack open a lid experimentally before pulling his hand away. Lanie noticed that his eyes were red and bloodshot. "Are your eyes usually this sensitive to the light?"
"No," he grumbled.
Lanie added one more item to her growing list of concerns about Mac, but didn't pursue the matter with him. Instead, she changed the subject. "Dirk said we're leaving within the hour for the airfield."
Mac nodded. "Okay, let's get packed."
Lanie looked around the room, seeing all her father's things. Leaving them behind was like saying good-bye to him all over again. Mac must have realized what she was feeling because he heaved a sigh, stood up, and walked to the closet where he found one of her father's small suitcases.
"Come on," he said, laying it open on the bed. "We can't take it all, so only pack the important stuff. I'll arrange to have the rest of it shipped to you."
She wanted to hug him, but settled for a heartfelt "Thank you." The room was small and she was able to go through the contents quickly. In the end, she settled for taking her father's journal, several books, his favorite sweater, the laptop—and his pipe, which she found tucked into the pocket of his sweater.
Mac spent the majority of the ride back to the airfield thinking about all the changes to his body. What at first had seemed like a simple reaction to a rude awakening had turned out to be a legitimate hypersensitivity to sunlight. Not only was he having to wear his sunglasses outside, but earlier, with all the light streaming in through the windows, inside the facility as well.
Running his tongue across his teeth, he experimentally touched each one to see which ones had been knocked loose. Strangely, only the two upper canines moved freely. How was it possible for the animal to hit him in the jaw in such a way that only those two teeth were affected?
Mac stopped his inspection when he felt Lanie watching him. He blanked his expression but refused to meet her eyes, keeping his own fixed squarely on the road ahead. He knew she was worried about him, but not because she cared. It was because she thought he was turning into a vampire.
Mac wanted to scoff. The idea was absurd, ludicrous. Absolutely friggin' crazy. So why didn't he feel like laughing?
Damn Burton
, he thought,
and damn that chupa
—
whatever the hell it was called
. Instead of driving Lanie back to the airfield and flying her home, he should be out scouring the jungle. However, being retired from the service meant he had no right to stay behind at a government facility, nor did he have the authority to order a full team of SEALs to fly down and search the jungle for him. The best he could hope for was to convince Admiral Winslow that Burton was…
Was what? A vampire? Mac almost snorted out loud at
that
imagined conversation.
Without the many stops they'd made on the trip out, the trip back to the airfield took much less time. Even with the time savings, though, they arrived after the sunset.
Mac pulled up to the main building, wanting to get them cleared for takeoff and under way as soon as possible. He was digging papers out of the glove compartment when Lanie spoke for the first time since they'd gotten into the Jeep.
"Where is it?"
He glanced up to see her perplexed expression. "Where's what?"
"The plane."
His gaze shot over to the stretch of tarmac where he'd parked his plane. It wasn't there. Thinking that the ground crew had moved it, he scanned the area, but still saw no sign of it. Twenty minutes later, Mac verified that the plane was nowhere on the grounds. It had disappeared.
He could think of only one man who might have need of his plane
and
was
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