Page 84 of Damian’s Conquest

Damian pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down opposite Ralph. “Tell me something Ralph. What do you suffer from?”

He shrugged. “What does it matter?”

“It matters.”

“Pancreatic cancer, stage four.”

Fuck! That was a death sentence.

“And you said the doctor told you that you only had a month left?”

“Tops. He sent me home to die. Can’t afford hospice care. No insurance.”

Damian nodded. When Ralph had lost his job, he’d lost his health insurance too. It was so clear now what was happening here. Everything made sense now. “Tell me, your sister, has she given up like you have?”

An unexpected smile curled Ralph’s lips upward. “She’ll never give up on me. I told her she should. But she’s trying all kinds of snake oil to heal me. Experimental drugs and all, but I don’t believe in it.”

“Has she actually given you something, a brew, or a tincture, or something similar?”

Ralph gave him a strange look. “How did you know? She puts something in a glass of water for me. Tastes awful. But it does make me feel better when I drink it.” He shook his head. “But all this is doing is just dragging out the inevitable.”

“Did she tell you what it is?”

“Some tincture from a new age wellness store or something. I told her not to waste her money, but she wouldn’t listen.”

From the door, Cooper called out, “We’ve got Tracy. She’s unconscious and tied up in the garage.”

Damian jumped up. “Cooper, watch him.”

“The garage?” Ralph asked. “But why would a stranger be in our garage?”

Damian looked over his shoulder. “When did you last set foot in the garage?”

“I’ve haven’t been in there in months.” He motioned to the walker.

Damian rushed into the garage, joining Vanessa and Ryder who bent over a young Asian woman: Tracy. Her hands and feet were bound and the rope was tied around the pipes of a water heater. A gag lay next to her on a filthy mattress.

It was obvious now: Cynthia was behind the kidnapping and the theft of the blood, and she’d kept it all from her sick brother. And because Ralph was too sick to walk anywhere without his walker, he would have never noticed that his sister was keeping a hostage in the garage. Another thing was clear too: Cynthia wasn’t selling the blood she’d taken from Mick. She was giving it to her brother in the hopes of healing him.

“How is she?” Damian asked.

Vanessa, who often helped her mother in Scanguards’ mini medical center on one of the lower levels of the headquarters building, looked up. “Her breathing is very shallow, and her heartbeat is slow.”

“I already sent for the ambulance,” Ryder added.

“I think she was given an opioid to knock her out. And she might have gotten too high a dose. She needs medical attention immediately.”

“Fuck!” Damian cursed. “How far out is our ambulance?”

“Ten minutes,” Ryder replied.

“I can give her my blood,” Vanessa suggested. “It’ll help her fight off the drugs. I’m not sure I want to wait for the ambulance with the Naloxone.”

“Do it!” Damian ordered. They couldn’t risk for Tracy to die. Mick would seek revenge on Cynthia and Ralph Lassiter. And he didn’t have to be a mind reader to guess that it would be a bloody massacre.

As Vanessa extended her fangs and bit her own wrist, Ryder addressed him, “What’s with the brother? Ralph?”

“I’m pretty sure that Cynthia kept him in the dark about what she was doing to save his life.”