Atlan's arm brushes the sleeve of my lab coat. We agreed not to show our affection in front of Reuel, but the light touch is enough to remind me that he is there. He has my back.
"We both want different things," says Perez calmly. "And at first glance they might seem to be mutually exclusive. But we share an interest in eliminating the zombie threat. You need time to complete your testing for the zombie mind-wipe, yes? And also you will need military support to make it work on a large scale?"
Reuel nods, his attention swerving to her again. I breathe a little easier. "Yes," he says. "Right now we accomplish the mind-wipe with an array of transmitters and electrical pulses within a confined space—a single room. To do this on a large scale, we'll need a cordoned area in which to confine a large group of zombies, and we'll access to more technology. Military-grade technology, and satellite systems."
"I can work on getting you military cooperation," says Perez. "If you let me return to the Deathcastle with some of my people, I will deliver any documents and proposals you have to my captain, and he'll take them to the military leadership of the Safe Zone. They are the ones who can offer the level of support you need to do this."
"You want to leave with some of your people?" Reuel's eyes narrow. "Who?"
"I will take with me the vampire Chandra of Bastion, her blood-bag Angela, Corporal Andrews, and the soldiers. We'll use one armored truck and leave the other here. To ensure our good faith and best efforts as your advocates, I will leave four of my people in your care—the vampire Darius and his blood-hire Bob, Atlan Echo of Deathcastle, and Finley Mars."
The minute she says my name, tension eases from Reuel's shoulders, and I know that the deal has been struck.
This is the part of the plan that infuriated Atlan when we discussed it earlier. He tried to bargain with Sergeant Perez, to reason a way out of it. But we all knew Reuel would never agree to let me go. And of course he wants to keep Darius, his new research subject. Besides which, Darius in his current state is too volatile an entity to be confined in an armored vehicle with a bunch of temptingly tasty humans. He wouldn't last the whole way back to Deathcastle without devouring someone.
Atlan, Darius, and me—we're the ones Reuel wants the most. But he wants Chandra too. Will he be willing to give her up if I stay behind?
"What about the female vampire, Chandra?" Reuel says, right on cue. "She can stay, and Atlan can go with you."
On the surface it seems like a fair trade, but I know that he wants Chandra for breeding as well as experimentation. And while I'm sure Chandra could handle herself against a human man, or even another vampire, Reuel and his toxic tail are a different story. Desperately I glance at Sergeant Perez, terrified that she might agree to the switch.
"Atlan Echo is the most skilled warrior from Deathcastle—possibly the best in the whole region," says Perez steadily. "If we leave him here, in your care, our military will be much more likely to concede to any demands you want to make. They'll want him back, whole and undamaged."
Perez skillfully avoids the use of the word "hostage," though that's essentially what we will be during our stay here. I understand why Atlan looks at her with such respect, why he follows her orders even when he doesn't like them. Perez is no bombastic leader—no strident, querulous voice fighting to be heard. She is a small woman with a steady, quiet power and a will that simply expects to be heard, and therefore is. Her presence is larger than her body, and though I've seen her train and I know she's strong and quick, it's her keen intelligence and sharp sense of purpose that makes her truly formidable.
Even Reuel seems to have a grudging respect for her. But Dr. Corbin nudges his arm and he says, as if prompted, "I'd still prefer the girl vampire."
Chandra opens her mouth, but Atlan interjects before she can say anything. "Well, if you don't want me, my blood-bag won't be staying here either. Would you rather have Chandra and Angela?"
Dr. Corbin nods, squeezing Reuel's bare bicep so tightly her nails dig into his flesh. But he shakes her off. "No. Finley stays."
"Then I'll be staying too." Atlan is still smiling, but it's that savage monster grin he wears when he's out in the killing fields, slaughtering zombies. He looks relaxed, his arms and hands loose at his sides, giving Reuel and his crew no excuse to attack; but there's a subdued power in his stance and a gleeful blaze in his eyes that says he'd be all too happy to fight them if he needs to.
Reuel eyes him for a second, then looks over at me.
And now it's time for me to play my part.
I give Reuel a small secret smile, just a curve of my lips, and a slow blink of my lashes.
I'd rather fight. I'd rather have a gun in my hand, or the machete from yesterday. I'd rather slice off that poisonous tail of his, clip his wings, teach him not to underestimate or undervalue women. But to ensure the safety of Sergeant Perez and the soldiers, and Chandra and her blood-slave Angela, I need to do this. I need to give Reuel hope, make him believe that he might have a chance with me.
His hard, handsome face changes as he watches me, his narrow features softening. "I would need a few weeks to do further research before we're ready," he tells Sergeant Perez.
Perez nods. "Our military leadership will need time to consider your proposal, and to prepare a better communication path with you. They'll also have to gather a larger force to render assistance. Your timeframe is acceptable."
"My team will prepare materials for you to take to your leaders. And you'll take Dr. Rousseau along as well, to explain the project more clearly. I birthed the idea for the mind-wipe technology, but she built most of the array that we use for it. She understands all the technical specifications."
My gaze flicks to Dr. Rousseau, the one who attached my handcuffs so gently and voiced tentative disapproval of Reuel's plans for me. Dr. Rousseau whimpers a little, desperate elation lighting her eyes. Her thanks is barely a murmur, though, probably because she's afraid Reuel will change his mind.
"You'll leave now, then," Reuel says. He nods to a few of his armed techs. "Escort the prisoners above. We will leave your weapons outside, and you may collect them after the bunker entrance is resealed."
Once he has made up his mind, it all happens quickly. Reuel's people herd the remaining prisoners into the elevator, allowing them the packs they brought and a few supplies.
Quickly I hug Chandra, whispering, "Be safe," in her ear. She may be escaping Reuel's clutches, but she has the monumental responsibility of being the only vampire left with the soldiers. Their lives are in her hands. She will have to escort them safely across the Hordelands, alone. Hopefully they won't run into any big storms like we did on the way here. As long as they can avoid storms and hordes, they might make it back safely to the wall.
Their success is our only hope. If they don't make it back to the wall, there won't be any rescue or reinforcements. Atlan and I will be stuck here indefinitely.
Atlan embraces Sergeant Perez, clapping her on the back, and then gives Chandra a quick kiss on the cheek before Darius moves in, hustling them toward the elevator.
Darius hasn't spoken to any of us all day. Maybe it's my imagination, but his skull looks a bit more elongated than it did yesterday, and his features are sharper, more angular. Is he still changing?
"Come," says Reuel to Atlan and me. "We can watch their departure from the communications room."
The communications room has monitors linked up to cameras both inside and outside the bunker entrance. There's also radio equipment, most of which I wouldn't know how to use. Atlan's eyes wander over the tech, and I can only hope he's better versed in long-range communications than I am. If things go very wrong here in the bunker, we may need to use this rig to contact Deathcastle.
Thanks to the monitors, we're able to watch our people collecting their weapons and climbing into one of the armored vehicles. Dust kicks up as the huge tires spin into action and the truck rolls away, out of sight.
I inhale deeply and sigh—and in the process I catch a
whiff of myself. Gross. Days of sweat and panic have not been kind to me in the body odor department.
"I could use a shower," I say. "Do I have time to take one before we start on world-saving science-y research stuff?"
Reuel half-smiles, amused, and he nods to one of the techs. "Escort her safely to the showers, please. But first—" He pulls the tech aside and whispers something in his ear, and the man nods.
I'm not sure what they were whispering about, but as long as I get a chance to shower, alone and untouched, I'm not worried. Whatever other machinations Reuel has in mind, I'll deal with them later.
16
Atlan
The last time Reuel and I were alone, he had my dick in his talons, and he was threatening to pinch it off unless I told him more about Finley.
I still feel a gnawing guilt about giving in to that threat. He would have followed through, though, and I think Finley would have been way more pissed about the mutilation than she was about my giving Reuel her backstory. It turned out okay, right? I need to let that guilt go. Mentally I add it to the ever-growing list of things I can't change, things I have to release so I don't go insane.
Now that Finley has been escorted elsewhere by a lab tech for a shower and a change of clothes, it's time to have a vampire-to-monster chat with Reuel.
How would Sergeant Perez do it? She'd know the diplomatic thing to say. I'm not usually the negotiating type.
Reuel is half-bent over a console, checking the video feed of an area outside the bunker. There's a lone zombie staggering across the screen—nothing to worry about.
"Hey, sorry about your little hunter swarms. The ones Darius killed." My voice sounds more gruff and defensive than apologetic. Not a great start.
"It doesn't matter," Reuel says without turning around. "I can make more easily with the pairs in our menagerie."
Menagerie? I need to find out more about that later. "Why create those little devils in the first place?"
He twists to look at me, smirking. "I like you, Atlan. You're bold. You say what you're thinking. Also I truly, deeply hate you."
With a short laugh, I lean my hip against one of the tables. "The feeling's mutual, man."
My left wrist still aches, but my right hand feels pretty good right now. The torn-up flesh must have healed. "You gonna answer my question, or what?" I ask.
Reuel switches the viewing angle of the outside camera. "When we started looking for a way to neutralize the zombies, we were planning to use another virus to do it. Something to render them inert, that could spread through the zombie population without damaging humans. We needed a fast, effective delivery method for that new virus, so I engineered the hunters. They're a blend of Tasmanian devil, piranha, Komodo dragon, vulture, and the common brown hare. Thanks to the rabbit element, they breed fast and furiously, and their vulture instinct gives them a preference for dead flesh. The hunters would be carriers for the anti-zombie virus. We'd send swarms of them out into the Hordelands to bite the zombies, spread the virus, and slowly eradicate their threat to humanity."
"But then we'd have hordes of comatose zombies, and huge swarms of those crazy little critters running all over the place." I frown.
"Yes. But the hunters don't attack humans unless I have given them the directive to do so."
"Interesting. So once the zombies were neutralized, you'd be in control of multitudes of those things. You'd be able to do anything you wanted, make everyone obey you."
"Would that be so bad? Most of humanity's problems stem from a lack of firm, unified leadership."
"Actually most of humanity's problems start when selfish men crave more power." Okay, that statement wasn't so diplomatic, but I'm pretty sure Finley would have high-fived me for it.
"Perhaps, but most of those men are, as you say, selfish. I, on the other hand, would have the greater good in mind. What this world needs is a logical, emotionless intelligence in charge of its workings." He turns to face me, his scorpion tail gleaming glossy reddish-black, touched with blue from the light of the monitors. "Unfortunately, as Finley pointed out, I've become less logical and more emotional since I altered myself. Some lower impulses have become more noticeable."
I flush hot, my palms sweating against the table's edge. "Like the impulse to rape a girl?"
Reuel's eyes flash, his jaw flexing. "An animal's instinct to mate with a highly desirable female. I will not apologize for the urge."
"You're unbelievable."
"Whatever you think about me, I do realize that Finley is special. She woke something in me—I never cared before what those around me were feeling. I have trouble identifying emotions in others, reading them, connecting with them. It's nearly impossible for me, usually. But with her—it's easier, somehow. Perhaps because her own empathy for others is so strong."
"She's a little too caring for her own good, sometimes," I mutter through gritted teeth.
"True. Unchecked emotion and sympathy can be a significant liability." Reuel taps his black talons against the top of a monitor. "Still, she's my best chance at creating offspring that can control both the zombies and the hunters. I will have her, eventually. But I want her to give herself to me."
"She won't." I bite out the words. Part of our strategy is letting Reuel believe that Finley might one day give in to him—but right now I don't give a damn about keeping up that ruse. This bastard needs to know that she's not sleeping with him.
"Because she's with you?" Reuel grins, his forked tongue flicking between his teeth. My own fangs glide out of their sheaths, lengthening to match my rising anger.
The chimera doesn't seem to notice. He switches off the monitors, his voice calm as usual. "Some think that having multiple partners is a more evolved, open-minded state of being, when truthfully that concept dates back to the earliest of times, when we were little more than animals. The male's natural instinct is to rut with the most suitable mate in the immediate vicinity, to spread his seed as far and wide as he can. The concept of being loyal to one mate is as foolish as it is confining."
"What about animals that mate for life?" With the fangs extended, I have a lisp I can't control, and I hate it. "Those pairings do exist."
"Of course. But it's rare." He straightens to his full height, which is a couple inches taller than me even without the antlers. "I will break down Finley's concept of civilization and social norms. And then—well, you will have to learn to share." Crossing the room to me, he sweeps one claw-tipped hand under my jaw, and it's all I can do not to flay the flesh off him with my teeth. "Maybe you'll discover that you enjoy my company too. Now come. We'll rejoin Finley, and I'll show you both the menagerie."
I stalk after him. I'm going to tear off those folded wings and shred them with my fangs. I'm going to lop off his damn tail like Finley did, and then I'll plunge my hand into his ribcage and close my fingers around his heart and squeeze until it pops—wait, no—I'll cut his dick off first. Might not be a bad idea to go ahead and do that. It would take him a while to grow it back. At least he can't "spread his seed" with that gone. Might cut his balls off too, for good measure. I'd like to see him grow those back.
As we pass the break room and kitchen area, I catch a glimpse of Dr. Corbin sitting at one of the tables. She's sipping from a teacup, her glasses half-glazed by the rising steam. And her eyes follow me as I pass by.
Suddenly I'm freezing cold inside, and my fantasies of vengeance on Reuel drain away.
I know why Finley and I had to stay. Reuel wouldn't have let her leave, and there's no way I was letting her stay here alone. We had to remain behind, a sacrifice so the others would be allowed to go home. But my whole body aches to not be here. To be literally anywhere else.
Reuel leads me down the hallway where Finley and I spent that first fateful night. Apparently we're to be quartered here during the remainder of our stay.
"This will be your room." His claws scrape across a door. Several rooms down, he touches another door. "This is Finley's. You'll be locked in at
night. For your safety." His mouth curves in a satisfied smile. Bastard. He's keeping us apart on purpose. "You'll have supervised blood-drinking sessions, of course. And you're free to observe our testing sessions with Finley and the zombies. We'll require your participation and your help now and then, especially with controlling any fresh zombies who haven't been subjected to the mind-wipe yet."
I'm down for whatever keeps Finley safe and lets me stay close to her. "Sure," I tell him, with my most brilliant grin. "Happy to help."
"Good boy." He reaches out and ruffles my hair.
Okay, that's it. I knock his hand away with a snarl. "Don't touch me again."
A savage delight flickers in his eyes, like he's glad I rose to the bait. But he quells it as Finley's door clicks open.
She emerges, her dark blond hair in a messy knot, still wet and dripping beads of water onto her bare shoulders. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes sparking with rage.
My jaw drops.
She's dressed in some kind of black Goth corset thing that dramatizes her cleavage. A generous section of her slim stomach shows beneath it, and her hips are encased in tight black shorts.
The military boots on her feet are the only practical thing about this outfit. Is it wrong that I love it?
My pants suddenly feel too tight, especially in the groin area, and desire clenches in my gut. I love her for much more than her body, but damn is she hot.
Judging by the furious look on her face, she doesn't think this is much of an improvement over the bra and jeans she's been rocking lately. Who am I to judge? I'm still just wearing a pair of pants, and by now they are pretty damn dirty—like Finley in that outfit—
"Stop leering," she snaps at me and Reuel, who is also stock-still with his mouth open. She pokes a finger at his face. "You engineered this! They took away all my other clothes. I had to put this on—I didn't have a choice."
The quiver at the end of the sentence snaps my brain back into focus. She's really angry, and hurt. Of all people, I should know how important choice is to her, how much she values every tiny freedom. Reuel is taking away her choices, one by one.
Captured by the Chimera Zombie-Master Page 11