Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
“Put simply, we can’t use animal blood on humans because our bodies would reject it. What you’re looking at is neither animal nor human, but some kind of combination of both. I’ve only seen this in GhostWalker blood.”
She went still. “One of us? Wait. They used us for some kind of base for a virus?”
“I can’t tell what they used to create the virus. It stands to reason, if they were creating viruses aimed specifically at each woman where you were, and I presume at Whitney’s other facilities, that they would start with specific blood. I’m hoping Trap or one of the other military virologists might figure it out.”
“That makes sense.” She really hated the idea, but it was a fact that Whitney paid the three scientists to construct viruses to kill them if they tried to escape.
“Have you ever seen what an actual filovirus looks like? Filo is thread. The virus presents in a few different ways. It can look like spaghetti or a snake, if you will. It can appear hooked, or spherical, even like the number six.” He frowned, clearly trying to describe it to her. “Like filigree. It’s distinctive.”
“Okay.” She got the picture but didn’t know how the blood he was looking at, which had none of what he described in it, was in any way related.
“Filoviruses cannot replicate themselves. They have to find another way, another cell in order to replicate and survive. They work by attaching themselves to the membrane of the cell. The cells have a receptor that allows the virus to attach itself. Once the virus attaches to the cell membrane it moves inside the cell to the cytoplasm and starts to replicate.”
Shylah shook her head but waved her hand to indicate he needed to keep going. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“Picture the receptor as a three-dimensional configuration that fits the virus perfectly. If the shape of that design is changed even slightly, the virus can’t attach itself to that cell.”
Shylah wasn’t certain she needed to know how the virus worked. She just needed to know it was out there, let loose on an unsuspecting mass of people. Those people had been innocently going about their daily lives and three men had decided they would, for money, unleash hell on the world. That was what she needed to know, and those three men needed to be hunted, found and exterminated.
Draden wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “Pay attention, sweetheart. I’m actually going somewhere with this. We can’t transfuse from one species to the other, which is a protection against the transfer of viruses. In other words, animals can get sick with illnesses specific to them, but they don’t pass those on to us. There are exceptions. You can give a pig a cold. There are some species of monkey that can transfer an illness to a human and vice versa. But generally, it doesn’t happen.”
Shylah looked at him and then at the smear of blood on the slide. She still didn’t see where he was going with it, but it was important to him and he was explaining it in a way she could understand and not want to pull her hair out.
“I’m listening, Draden, but you know, this isn’t my thing. I’m here for a very different reason than you are.”
He looked up at her, and her heart accelerated. His face was so perfectly masculine. A gorgeous man. Everything about him. Those eyes of his, darker blue than the deepest sea, his hair spilling across his forehead, that strong jaw and aristocratic nose. He was breathtaking. More, he looked at her as if he thought she was beautiful and someone to respect, even admire.
“That isn’t true, Shylah, not anymore. You’re here with me because you chose to save my life and in doing that, the virus got a foothold in you. I want to take your blood. I’ve already taken mine. They’ll be able to see how advanced the virus is in each of us. While I’m explaining this, I may as well take your blood and get started.”
“I thought you didn’t like needles.” She stepped back, rubbing her arm for no reason at all other than anticipation.
He flashed her a grin that made butterflies take flight in her stomach, and her sex actually fluttered. She ignored that and sent up a silent prayer he had stayed out of her mind. He didn’t need to know he sent her body into meltdown mode.
“I detest them, but we need this done.” He took her arm, his touch so gentle it turned her heart over.
“I’m okay with you taking my blood.” Shylah felt as if she had to reassure him. He was such a mixture, tough as nails and lethal, but with her, unfailingly a gentleman, tender and sweet, looking out for her so carefully. She knew he was more upset that she had the virus and was all but condemned to death than that he shared that same fate.