Bloody Defiance

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Bloody Defiance Page 7

by Laura Hysell


  He finally stopped a block past the bar and set me down. “Put the knife away. Quick.”

  I stared at him for a moment, but there was a strange look of urgency to Thomas. I quickly obliged, and Thomas scooped me up in his arms once more. He ran down the street until we reached Henri’s building, where he finally lowered me to the ground.

  Henri stood waiting for me in front of the doors to his building, arms crossed over his chest and a look of disapproval on his face. “Thank you, Thomas,” Henri said curtly as he moved toward me.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Come, Isabella,” Henri ordered, and I felt the tug at my mind.

  “The girl,” I said, looking imploringly back at Thomas.

  “The girl will be returned to her home shortly, unharmed,” Henri responded.

  I looked up at Henri’s handsome face and felt the tears welling in my eyes. “The other girl is dead. What are you going to do about her? You obviously know what happened.”

  “Of course I know what happened. This is my domain. I rule here,” he snapped at me, and I stepped back involuntarily.

  What the hell was I doing stepping away from him? Crap. I took a deliberate step forward, crossed my arms and said, “Well?”

  “Bear attack,” he responded deliberately, and I swallowed hard. When my brother had disappeared and the members of his expedition had died, the newspapers had listed it as a tragic bear attack. No bear had been to blame then, just as one wasn’t to blame now. “And before you ask, know that the vampires responsible will be harshly dealt with.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Death, Isabella. I won’t forgive disobedience,” he responded sharply before turning and walking into his building. He stopped in the doorway and glanced at me over his shoulder. “Come,” he ordered again. I sighed loudly and followed him. At least I knew that the vampires would be taken care of. That was a small consolation.

  Chapter 6

  The will of Henri’s command echoed in my mind. My feet shuffled of their own volition behind the tall vampire while my mind screamed in defiance. Just when I thought I had gained some ability to fight against Henri, he took the notion from my mind with a stern command. Although I did follow him, at least my mind was still my own.

  Henri led me back up to his apartments and I followed wordlessly. He opened the door and walked through without a backward glance. I continued a few steps behind him, not stopping until he stopped. “Close the door, Isabella,” he said sharply. I turned on my heel and immediately closed the door, cursing in my head as I obeyed him so quickly. “Stay there, and be quiet.”

  My will had been taken from me, and I stood mutely staring at the door, waiting for my next command. An overwhelming pressure had slowly begun growing in my head as I had followed Henri back to his apartment. The sensation had started softly, similar to the feel of swimming deep underwater. With each passing moment, the pressure grew stronger and with it came pain.

  Five minutes passed as I stood still, staring at the door. Then another five. The pain increased ten-fold, and still I stood. Tears began to well in my eyes, and I fought to blink them back. I made no sound as tears coursed down my cheeks. He had ordered me to be quiet, so even the ability to whimper in pain had been taken from me. The pain that had started in my head had spread throughout my entire body, squeezing me tighter with each passing minute. Seconds ticked by as the sensation of crushing weight grew, suffocating me. If I had been able, I would have dropped to the ground in agony.

  Time passed with agonizing slowness. I tried counting the seconds, partly to see how long I stood there, and partly just to take my mind away from the pain and pressure, but gave up after ten minutes. The pain grew stronger and I shied my mind away from the sensation, trying to concentrate on anything else. Then I felt the burning. I had grown accustomed to the burning sensation on my thigh when I was in the company of vampires, but now I sought out the strange feeling. My right thigh where the knife was strapped, tingled with warmth, but it didn’t hurt there. It was hard to separate the feeling, but the longer I concentrated, the more certain I was that my thigh was immune to the pressure and pain the rest of my body was feeling.

  The knife was keeping the pain at bay and my hand itched to unsheathe it. I was putting all my concentration into the knife, so I immediately noticed the slight change. The knife pulsed, like music when the bass was turned up high and you could feel the thrumming throughout your entire body. With each passing second, the knife pulsed stronger and faster, spreading warmth further across my body, and steadily diminishing the pain.

  Henri touched my shoulder and the sensation of pain and pressure grew to overwhelming heights. I screamed inside my head, unable to voice my screams aloud. “Do you understand?” Henri whispered in my ear. He didn’t want an answer, and I wouldn’t have been able to produce one even had he allowed me to speak again.

  He removed his hand from my shoulder, and with it the pain and pressure stopped. I fell to the ground, sobbing loudly, my face buried in the soft carpet. Henri stood over me, silently watching as I tried to regain my composure. Every inch of my body ached, and it took several minutes to stop sobbing and struggle into a sitting position.

  Finally, I sat back and wiped my tear-soaked face before looking up at the vampire. Henri’s face was beautiful as always, and stern with barely suppressed rage. My hand twitched, yearning to touch the knife. “Do you understand?” he asked again.

  My brain felt like mush as I struggled to figure out what he was asking me. Did I understand what? Did I understand he was a psycho? Yes. Did I understand he was a sadistic, cruel vampire? Oh, yes. Did I understand he still had power over me? That was it, of course. Control. It was all about control with him. I understood, and I hated him for it.

  “I am in charge here, Isabella. No one defies me. Not the vampires. Not the werewolves. Not you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Henri,” I responded as I stared at his chin, unwilling to look him in the eye for fear he’d know I was just saying what I thought he wanted to hear.

  “Do not question me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do not disobey me.”

  “Got it.” Fuck you. Fuck you, you fucking leech. I held my tongue, and it was the hardest thing I’d had to do.

  “You can have a good life here, Isabella,” Henri said, his voice softening as he knelt down on the carpet beside me. “Look at me.” It wasn’t an order, but I obeyed and looked directly at his handsome face, clenching my jaw in anger.

  He reached his hand out and stroked my cheek softly, tenderly. My anger melted away as I stared at him, marveling at the perfection of his skin. He glowed, and I was reminded of the man who had come to me in my dreams; the golden god-like figure. “You look different,” I squeaked out.

  Henri grinned widely and stood up. He stepped back from me and peeled off his shirt in one swift move. His body looked fuller and healthier than it had just hours before. Muscles on his abs were more defined. His skin had an almost golden luminescence to it, not at all the pale whiteness I usually associated with vampires. He could almost pass for human, albeit a ridiculously gorgeous, muscular, human. With fangs.

  “Make love to me, Isabella,” Henri said, and I felt my body move in response. I leapt to my feet and stepped toward him. Henri grinned, and I felt an answering smile on my lips. I was so fucked. Henri pulled his remaining clothes off, and I struggled to pull my shirt off without tearing it.

  “Stop,” Henri said, and I immediately obeyed. My shirt was already on the floor, and I had been fumbling to remove my bra. The sudden rush to get naked and have sex with Henri was gone, and I stood uncertainly. Henri remained before me in all his naked glory, oozing confidence as he grinned at me. “Do you want to make love to me?” he asked.

  Panic seized me as my mind tried to reel against him, but I felt the pressure of his command and knew I’d have to answer honestly. “No, and yes,” I said, cursing myself.

  Henri’s face distorted i
n anger, but it was brief and immediately replaced with a blank expression. “Explain your answer,” he said curtly.

  “I’m attracted to you on a physical level, so my body wants you. But you keep manipulating me to be with you. You take away my free will, and I hate you for it. And I saw what your vampires do to human girls.”

  “Stop,” he ordered, and I clamped my mouth shut, thankful he hadn’t let me continue. “You’re still dwelling on those girls?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t bring back the dead, Isabella. She didn’t have vampire blood in her, so she is well and truly dead. All I can offer is assurance that the ones responsible will be dealt with. Be thankful for that, and the fact that the other girl yet lives. Does that help ease your mind?” he asked.

  The question surprised me, and I stared at him for several moments before responding. “I suppose that helps, a little. Can you guarantee the other girl’s safety?”

  “While she resides in this town, she will be safe. I cannot control things outside my realm.”

  “And she won’t be bit.”

  Henri winced, but nodded his head. “I will not allow her to be bit again. Does this make you happy?”

  Happy? I was far from happy, but at least the girl would be safe. “Yes.”

  “Now how do you feel about me?”

  I shrugged. “About the same.”

  “You are aggravating, Isabella.”

  “I don’t like my being controlled.” That statement couldn’t be more true. He had been controlling me just moments before, and he was controlling me still, pulling words from my mouth.

  He stared at me, unblinking like only a vampire could. After what felt like an eternity he finally turned and walked away without another word. I stood uncertainly, wondering what to make of the entire exchange. I looked down at myself and breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t forced me to have sex with him, so I’d have to take that as a win for today. It wouldn’t last, though. He was a vampire, and controlling humans was in his nature.

  I picked my shirt up off the floor and made my way to the bedroom I had claimed, shutting the door softly behind me. There were no clocks, and I had no sense of time other than that it was dark outside still and the vampires were awake. The gun was still on my dresser where I’d left it, and I picked it up as I crossed the room. I popped the clip out, and sighed. Empty. The backpack was still in the corner where I’d tossed it. I retrieved the bag and made myself comfortable on the bed.

  My backpack was considerably lighter, and I hurriedly rifled through it. All that remained in the bag was a stack of papers. I had one gun and no ammo. I pulled the papers out and flipped them open. The papers had been grabbed in haste, so I had no idea of their contents. They came from the doctor working under Henri’s hotel, and I hoped some of these would shed light on Henri’s research. Of course, who knew if there was anything of consequence left in the paperwork.

  There were five separate folders on five subjects. I opened the first one, listed simply as Subject 43, and began reading the slanted scrawl. The first few pages were basic medical info regarding Subject 43’s height, weight, blood pressure, and other basic facts. The next page was filled with results from blood tests. The third page began a series of entries.

  Day 1: Subject received injection of serum A4892. No change.

  Day 2: Subject received second injection of serum. No change.

  Day 3: Subject received third injection of A4892. No change.

  I scrolled my eyes past the listing of daily injections, until I saw something different.

  Day 20: Subject has received of injections of serum A4892. No change. Adding colloidal silver to IV.

  Day 21: Subject received injection of serum and silver IV. 34 minutes later, subject started seizing and is now in a coma.

  Day 22: Subject 43 deceased.

  The next page consisted of the autopsy, followed by pictures. I closed the file and opened the next one, hoping to see something better. The front page stated this folder was relating to Subject 51. Part of me didn’t want to find out Subject 51’s fate, but curiosity held too powerful a sway. I flipped past the stats, noticing this subject was also male, and began reading the entries.

  Day 1: Subject received IV of colloidal silver mixture, combined with three sedatives.

  Day 2: Subject 51 received injection of serum A4895. No change.

  Day 5: No change.

  Day 12: Second injection of serum A4895. No change.

  Day 22: Third injection of serum A4895. No change.

  I squinted at the page, where something had been written, then erased. I dropped the notebook and opened the drawers of the nightstand beside the bed. Paper, pens and pencils were in the top drawer, and I grabbed a pencil. Carefully, I used the side of the pencil to shade over the erased words until they were readable.

  At the behest of Mr. Donovan, and against my better judgement, Subject 51 has been given the injection of VB300.

  I frowned at the erased words, my eyes latched onto Henri’s name. So he was behind the experiments. I continued reading down the entries.

  Day 23: Subject 51 received VB300 and immediately woke from his sedated state. He attacked the staff and pulled out his IVs. Security was called and he was restrained.

  Day 24: Subject 51’s heartrate has slowed considerably, but he remains stable.

  Day 25: Subject 51’s skin has turned pale and his heartrate has slowed more. He is being monitored around the clock.

  Day 26: Subject 51’s skin turned gray, and his eyes have turned black. Heart stopped once, but we were able to revive him.

  Day 27: Subject 51’s heart stopped three times today. I don’t think he’ll last much longer.

  Day 28: Subject 51 deceased.

  Day 29: Subject 51 was taken for autopsy. Rate of decomposition is extremely rapid. Body appears to have been dead for months, not a day.

  I stopped reading and hurriedly flipped past the pictures, shuddering. There were no dates listed on the papers, so I had no idea how long these experiments had been going on. The only thing I had to go off of was the dates each subject was alive, which was too short. What were these experiments? I grabbed the third folder uneasily and opened it. The same familiar slanted scrawl was across the pages.

  Day 1: Subject 82 received injection of silver solution mixed with serum A5260 in IV on steady drip.

  Day 10: Subject 82 received increased dose of A5260 and silver solution.

  Day 12: Subject 82 received VB300 single dose. Heart rate and skin normal.

  Day 20: Subject 82 woke from coma. Heart rate and skin still normal. He’s asking about his Pack. I don’t know what to tell him. This isn’t what I thought I was signing on for.

  Day 23: Subject 82 has grown angrier and had to be further restrained. His strength despite the silver is phenomenal.

  Day 25: Increased silver dose and A5260 after Subject 82 broke his bands and injured several people. He continues to ask about his Pack. What can I tell him?

  Day 32: Mr. Donovan requests second dose of VB300. Subject 82 is given dose. No change.

  Day 33: Still no visible change. Mr. Donovan claims the serum is working, however I see no physical changes. Subject 82 is more docile.

  Day 34: Subject 82 asked about Pack again, and Mr. Donovan told him they are being held in the facility as well. I thought Subject 82 would lash out, but he remains docile. Mr. Donovan continued to explain that several of the Pack are now deceased, and still Subject 82 remained calm.

  Day 45: Subject 82 still stable. A5260 and silver dosing continue.

  Day 62: Subject 82 given third dose of VB300.

  Day 71: Mr. Donovan states Subject 82 is a success, but he wants faster progress. Subject 82 has been released into Mr. Donovan’s care.

  There were no pictures to accompany the folder on Subject 82 and no further paperwork. I wondered if Subject 82 was here. The continual mention of silver had me chewing my lip in thought. What was the purpose of this experiment? Even the no
tes from the doctor said there were no physical changes in Subject 82, but that he had grown more docile. A docile werewolf? Those two things didn’t go together. Whatever was in those serums seemed to have taken the fight right out of a werewolf.

  I turned to the fourth, much lighter folder and opened it, doing a quick perusal. Subject 91 hadn’t fared as well from the short listing of notes I glimpsed. The process of giving VB300 had been sped up for the past several subjects and from the scrawl written across the margins, it hadn’t gone well. Subject 91 had died after only nine days.

  I opened the final folder, for Subject 119. The stats were similar to the others, all male, but a note on the first page had my heart racing. I closed my eyes, almost afraid to read the details. It could be just a coincidence. Why had the doctor kept these files in a locked drawer? What was their importance? I was pretty sure these were the doctor’s personal notes. Had he died for these files? I took a deep breath, and read slowly.

  Day 1: Subject 119 (formerly subject 17) was injured due to a gunshot to the head. Had he been human, he definitely would have been dead. Subject 119 was treated and is in stable condition.

  Day 2: Subject 119 received VB300, silver and A5260 mixture, along with three sedatives, in a single IV per Mr. Donovan’s previous instructions if Subject 17 returned. Mr. Petrivian has ordered me to continue following Mr. Donovan’s instructions, adding in the vaccine from Mr. Petrivian’s company.

  Day 3: Subject 119 escaped along with the human he was brought in with. I thought for sure she would be blind after receiving Mr. Petrivian’s vaccine. Mr. Petrivian is blaming me and my staff for their escape, and the failure of his vaccine, whatever that means.

  These will be my final notes. All remaining subjects are dead or already left under Mr. Donovan’s care, prior to Mr. Petrivian’s arrival. Of the 118 test subjects, only 27 left this compound alive. This is not why I became a doctor. I thought I was making a difference. This isn’t what I signed on for. No amount of money or fame is worth all this.

 

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