by H G Lynch
The professor cast him a sharp glance. “Is that a threat, boy? You know what we do to you when you threaten us.”
At that, Reid flinched, but then he shrugged. “It’s not a threat. It’s a fact. See, when you were doing your research on Ember, you obviously overlooked her absolute phobia of needles. If you had any chance of winning this one, it just blew up sky high.” Reid sounded viciously gleeful. The professor frowned and opened his mouth to say something to the faceless freak kneeling over Ember with a huge hypodermic needle. But it was too late.
Gathering up the remaining heat, a burst of it coming seemingly from nowhere as far as she could tell, Ember screamed like all hell, and her muscles spasmed as she sent out a shockwave of blistering, lightning heat that instantly incinerated four people, including the guy with the needle. Turned out, she didn’t even need her hands to create her lightning fire. It just exploded whenever she was in most danger. She screamed and screamed, beyond the point of words.
Then familiar voices and the sound of feet crunching through snow caught her attention and she forced herself to shut up, grinding her teeth against the urge to keep screaming. No, she thought frantically, No, no, no! Go away! Go back to the house! But her focus was shattered and she’d used most of her energy on the lightning fire, so she couldn’t send the telepathic message in time.
Ricky and Sherry came sliding into the middle of the scene, and froze. Ricky, already in full vamp-mode, lunged for some of the hooded figures. Ember and Reid both cried out for him not to, but someone had already thrown a knife that sunk deep into Ricky’s shoulder. He gasped and yelled, but managed to snap a guy’s neck anyway before another knife struck his leg and he went down, stumbling into the bloody snow. Sherry stood on the side-lines, frozen and terrified, her green eyes wet and stunned.
Ember yelled for her leave. “Sherry, run! Go, now! GO!”
But Sherry turned watery eyes on her and shook her head, her mouth set in a trembling line.
Ember started thrashing against the remaining figures pinning her down. “Sherry, please, go! Run!” she begged, but Sherry held her ground. Even Ember didn’t see the two figures that crept up on the girl until Sherry was already caught in their grasp.
That was the moment Ember stopped fighting. They had all her friends, and she couldn’t take them all out at once. If she took out any of them, the others would only hurt her friends. She couldn’t let that happen. So, she gave up. She went limp and looked at the professor as he stood over her, gazing down at her with cold, sharp grey eyes like shards of metal.
“I’ll come with you. Just don’t hurt them. Please,” she whispered, her vision blurring with more tears, which spilled over and ran down the sides of her face, into her hair.
The professor nodded calmly. “I never wanted to hurt any of them in the first place, Ember. You forced my hand. I needed your cooperation, and now I have it. I won’t hurt them as long as you don’t struggle,” he said gently.
Ember could almost believe he really was sorry. Almost. But still, she wanted to kill him like she’d never wanted to kill anyone before. And that was saying something.
A shadowy figure came over with another hypodermic needle in hand, and this time, instead of fighting, Ember closed her eyes and choked back a whimper. She trembled all over as she waited for the needle to pierce her skin. It sank into her arm, and she muffled a scream behind her sealed lips, squeezing her eyes shut as more hot tears dribbled out. Then everything got really fuzzy, and the last thing she saw as she opened her eyes again was Reid, staring at her with agony in his blue eyes. She passed out.
Chapter Twenty One
Waking up was both painful and disorienting. With her wrists and neck burning, her veins on fire, Ember found herself lying on a cold, stone floor, behind bars. It took her a minute to remember what had happened, and figure out where the hell she was. Eventually her mind supplied her with the unhappy answer that she was probably in The Society’s base of operations. Great.
She sat up, and heard metal scrape on the ground, looked down at her aching wrists; She was still wearing the damn magic-stunting manacles, now with long, thick chains attached. The other ends of the chains were sunk into the solid, stone wall behind her. A heavy, constricting weight around her neck made her reach up to touch her throat, and she found more metal. A collar of the same metal as the manacles was fixed securely round her neck, also chained to the wall. She could only move so far as the bars that surrounded her on the other three sides. She was trapped, like an animal in a zoo.
Anger and panic rushed to the surface, and she pushed them away. She was weak and tired, but she knew that fighting her chains wouldn’t get her anywhere. Staying calm was her best bet of finding a way out of here. Looking around the room, she saw a large metal table, the type used in science labs, and it was stacked with various beakers and glasses and test tubes filled with chemicals she couldn’t identify. She could be sure they weren’t harmless though.
More, smaller tables were pushed up against the walls, and to her left, there was the one door to the room. It was a huge, heavy-looking, steel door with a keypad and finger-print locking system. Ah. That would be a problem. But, she’d deal with that once she got out of this damned cage. And it wasn’t the only cage in the room. There were three more dotted about the room, each empty, but with a full set of chained manacles and collars hanging from the walls. Yup, this was a really nasty place, and she needed to get out now.
Eyeing the bars carefully, she saw they were etched with the same runes that were on her manacles. Runes meant to burn skin and stunt magic. Lovely. They’d thought of everything. She kind of wished people would start underestimating her again —it was so much easier to kill them when they thought she was as weak as she looked.
Still, curiously, just to be sure, Ember reached out and wrapped her fingers around one of the bars. Instantly, her skin started to sizzle, and she gritted her teeth, yanking hard on the bar in the hopes they’d at least underestimated her strength. Unfortunately, they hadn’t. These bars were solid steel, like the door. If she’d been able to tap into her magic, she could’ve melted the metal with ease. Stupid manacles. Snatching her hand back from the bar, she examined her palm. It was marred with a charred line of blisters that really hurt. And these burns wouldn’t heal with the vampiric speed they should, she knew. No, they’d sting for a long time.
Runes. Freaking goddamned runes, she thought, sighing. Her own calmness surprised her, distantly, but then, she’d used up a lot of energy and a lot of anger already. She should be thankful the logical part of her brain was operating again, instead of pondering the why of it.
So, she put the logical part of her brain to work, scanning the room for anything she could use to help her escape. Maybe the collar and manacles only repressed her fire-magic. What if she could use her mind-limb to, say, float that scalpel on the metal table into her cage?
No such luck. She tried to send out her mind-limb, but it hit an invisible barrier at the bars, sort of like the barrier that she’d come up against around the grenade guy’s head in the battle. She was sure it wasn’t the runes doing that part of the work, but something more like a charm. These guys most definitely had at least one strong witch working with them. And why not, really? Witches hated vampires more than they disdained humans, so it made sense they’d band together to take down a powerful Elemental and her vampire friends.
Once again, Ember found herself cursing witches, not just in meaningless, unheard four-letter words, but silently sending the stream of curses up to Hecate herself. If Hecate decided to smite her or send a witch army against her next, so be it. At least she’d gotten to say her piece.
Just while she was trying to think of others gods and goddesses to curse for her serious witch problem, the heavy steel door bleeped and swung open. Ember jumped to her feet, ready for action if she needed to be, and felt her fangs slide out reflexively. Well, at least the cuffs and collar didn’t stop her inner vampire from coming out —but
they did burn a lot more intensely as her vampire blood rose to the surface. She hissed in pain, but defiantly kept her fangs out and ready to suck someone dry.
It was only once she heard the steady beating of Professor Oliver’s blood in his veins that she realised why her own veins were on fire; she was hungry, but no amount of pizza and Coke would help. It was bloodlust. Her jaws ached, her fangs throbbing. She snarled at the professor as he waltzed into the room with two heavily-armed guards behind him.
“Ah, Ember. Glad you’re awake at last.” Professor Oliver smiled at her, actually bloody smiled.
She spat a few choice words at him, and lunged for the bars, expecting him to flinch. He didn’t budge, even when she stopped abruptly just two inches from the front of the cage. He stood perfectly still, with his hands folded neatly behind his back, a composed expression on his face.
“Now, Ember, there’s no call for a young lady to use such language. It is unseemly.” He shook his head slightly, looking irritatingly disapproving.
“Yeah, well, so is kidnapping and attempted murder,” she retorted, levelling a killing glare on the professor. The guards stood behind him like silent shadows; they hadn’t budged when she’d lunged either. It was infuriating, being a vampire and not being able to incite some fear in pathetic humans. She’d seen people flinch from her more when she was human herself, for Christ’s sake!
The professor’s lips quirked in a half-smile that was anything but amused.
“It isn’t murder if the person isn’t a person at all. It’s only murder if that person was alive to start with.”
It was the first time she’d heard the professor sound like…well, like a vampire killer. But clearly, he had missed a few details about vampires and Elementals.
She sneered. “I suggest you fire whatever research team you’re using. They’ve got a few facts wrong. I’m pretty sure anything with a heartbeat is classified as alive.” She flashed her fangs in a smirk. Technically, she was alive, but Reid and Ricky were undead. Not really alive, but not really dead either.
The professor’s brow furrowed and he stared at her intently, as if trying to figure out what she was really saying. It was clear he didn’t want to ask what she meant, but in the end, curiosity won out. “Vampires don’t have heartbeats. What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice sharp, his eyes piercing.
Ember took a few leisurely steps back from the bars, still sneering at him, and held up one finger to her lips in a secretive gesture. The professor’s eyes flashed and he jerked toward the bars. The guards behind him finally moved, flanking him in case she reached through the bars…Wait, that was something she hadn’t tested yet. Her mind-limb couldn’t get between the bars, but her arm probably could, if the chains were long enough…Hm. She’d try it later. Right now, it was more fun to watch the professor fuming with frustration. She giggled and dropped to the ground, folding her legs.
“What are you talking about, little girl? Tell me now!” Professor Oliver yelled.
Ember just raised a brow at him. “Isn’t it obvious? Uh, I’m half-human…sort of…meaning my heart isn’t just a lump of meat behind my ribs. I have a pulse. And only vampires who were turned are technically dead. Born vampires, like my boyfriend, also have a heartbeat. They die in the womb and then their hearts kick start when they’re born. Dead but not really dead. Undead, I guess would be the term…” She would’ve thought they would’ve noticed that when they’d been torturing Reid, or any of the other vampires she was sure they’d captured. Hey, they had to have caught a few guys with fangs to research and develop the kinds of weaponry they had.
The professor looked extremely pissed off now. “You’re lying,” he accused, some of his composure returning. He stood back and pushed his spectacles up his nose.
Ember snorted. “Oh, really? Well, it’s hardly difficult to prove. Why don’t you unlock that gate and come take my pulse?” She sent him a lethal, challenging smirk, knowing he probably wouldn’t take the bait. But damn, she’d just love it if he’d take a step past those bars. The professor smiled blandly, seeing her plan.
“I don’t think so. But I’ll take your boyfriend’s pulse instead,” he said, watching her closely for a reaction to his words.
Unfortunately, as much as she tried not to give him the satisfaction, she felt her eyes go wide and her breath stuck in her throat.
She shook her head in hopeless negation. “No. You’re lying to me. You don’t have Reid. I came with you willingly! You said you’d let him go if I came with you!” she gasped, but even as she spoke, her heart was sinking. Apparently, her reaction was exactly what the professor had been hoping for, and he made a gesture to one of the guards.
“Bring them in,” he said quietly, then turned back to Ember. “I never said that. I simply said that I’d hurt him if you didn’t come quietly. I did not, at any point, agree to release him. Or any of your other friends for that matter.”
Oh, God, no. He didn’t have them. He was lying, he had to be.
Oh, but he did have them. He wasn’t lying. She knew it because a handful of black-dressed, armed guards marched into the room, dragging three figures with them. Sherry and Ricky were both unconscious, but as far as she could tell, not actually hurt. But Reid…he was awake and fighting with his guards even as they created fresh slashes across his ribs and stomach. He was yelling furiously, but he shut up instantly when he saw Ember in her cage. His eyes went very wide, and his face paled. He was still covered in blood and slashes and burns, his hair was still tangled with twigs and blood. Ember wanted to look away; it was more painful to see in the bright, sterile light of the lab. But she held his gaze, stepping mindlessly to the bars. The guards pulled Reid to a stop in front of her cage, and she stuck her arm through the bars, ignoring the sharp burns as her skin brushed the metal. Her fingertips could just almost reach him, and he tried to shrug the guards off, his face twisting painfully.
“I always said I’d put you in a cage. I just didn’t mean like this,” he whispered, his eyes bright.
Ember heart almost broke and she shook her head, spattering tears. “This isn’t your fault. This is my fault. Don’t you dare blame yourself, Reid, don’t even think about it.” She gripped the bars with her other hand, the one that wasn’t reaching out to him, and gritted her teeth against the hot pain singeing her skin.
Reid’s eyes showed a depth of guilt that stung to look at. “I should’ve believed you about the nightmare. I shouldn’t have gone off on my own. Ember, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” he choked.
Ember felt her mouth tremble, tried to say something, anything to make the guilt in his eyes go away, but the professor laughed before she could get the words past the lump in her throat. He laughed contemptuously, and Ember snarled at him, turning a vicious glower on him.
“You son of a bitch, you fucking son of a bitch! You let him go right now! Let him go! Let Sherry and Ricky go too! You have no reason to keep them here! They haven’t done anything! It’s me you need for your world domination plot, so let them go. I won’t cooperate if you don’t!” she stuck both arms through the bars, snarling as the metal touched her skin and left charred burns. Her clawed fingers scrabbled uselessly as she tried to grab the professor. He was just out of reach, though, and his guards moved in front of him, pulling out knives. She chuckled darkly, a little maniacally. “Go ahead and cut me if you like! I’ll still rip your throats out and watch you bleed to death on the floor!” she growled, her fangs pulsing with the urge to do just that.
With a sigh, the professor shook his head. “Actually Ember, I do have a reason to keep your friends here. The reason being that I need them precisely to make you cooperate. You see, I realise that threatening you is ineffective, and I’d hate to spill any more of your blood than is necessary as I’m going to need it for other things. But, I know you’ll do anything to keep your friends from being hurt…” He nodded to one of the guards, who moved and took Reid’s arm. His forearm was lined with cuts, his fingers burned,
and Ember bit back a sob of horror. The guard took his knife and carved another gash in Reid’s arm, cutting deep into the muscle. Reid locked his teeth, grunting through the pain. The guard moved the knife and got ready to make another cut, but Ember screamed at him.
“No! Stop it! Stop! Please, don’t…” Too late, she realised she’d proved the professor right. He knew exactly how to make her do anything he wanted. All he had to do was hold a knife to one of her friends, and she’d crumble.
The guard retreated, and Reid let out a gasp of relief. The professor nodded. “Put him in the cage,” he instructed, pointing toward the last empty cage. Sherry and Ricky had been thrown into the other two, and the gates were all locked with special, rune-marked padlocks. The professor took a set of heavy, bronze keys from one of the guards and shoved them into a pocket in his blazer. Ember took note of that, thinking it might be useful information for later. It couldn’t hurt to know where the man kept his keys.
She was in serious trouble now. Escaping on her own would’ve been extremely difficult, but saving her friends and getting all of them out of here to was going to be damn near impossible. But she did have one desperate hope…well, two really, but the second was somewhere beyond the realm of impossible. Her second hope was that Hiro could get them out of here, since he hadn’t been captured. But she knew the chances of that were in the section below zero. She was glad he hadn’t gotten caught, hoped he’d be sensible and get as far away as possible. But she was semi-sure he wouldn’t do that; He’d sworn to protect her, and though she was too far from him to sense his feelings, she knew he was out there kicking himself for not being able to do what he’d sworn to do. If he lived through this, she’d have to tell him she didn’t blame him. He ran, like any sane person would. As long as he was safe, she could kill a little of the guilt swimming around inside her head.