“Are you sure about that, Lance?”
“Just do it, Katrina.”
Katrina hurried out of the lab, leaving Lance to review the Infecteds’ test results. The tension in his jaw and shoulders told me that he hadn’t wanted that little piece of news. What the fuck would they achieve by injecting and feeding my blood to Infecteds?
“What is it you want?”
Lance looked up at me. “You’re just like Heather. You’re not looking outside the box.”
I snorted. “We are supposed to be creatures of myth; we created the goddamn box for the humans’ sake. So I am asking again, why are you feeding my blood to Infecteds? Blood is blood, all nourishment for your kind, so what do you hope to achieve by giving them my blood; a Werewolf’s blood?”
A crooked smile curled the corners of his mouth.
“You see, you have this all wrong. Blood is not simply just blood.” He snapped the folder closed and placed it on the nearest workbench. “Blood is the life force of almost every species on this planet. All blood is different, as I tried to explain to Heather. Animal blood, for instance, is the equivalent of plain water to a dehydrated man. You drink what you can get. The bigger the animal, the better, but human blood is the fuel for ongoing strength. Animal blood sees us through; human blood makes us survive, gives us our power.”
“And my blood?” My gut twisted as his eyes darkened, his crooked smile turning into a hungry grin.
“Your blood, the blood of a human altered by that of a strong predator.... What would your blood do for my species?”
My mind flooded with images of the moors at night; of creatures unlike anything I or the rest of my Pack had ever fucking seen. Almost human, except for the sharp angles of their faces; their jaws hanging wide, mouth packed with fangs, and eyes so bloodshot and frantic. These creatures had been tearing innocent people apart and leaving them all over my Alpha’s land only two months ago. In the confrontation, they had been fast and vicious....
My gut went cold. It had to be connected. This can’t be a fucking coincidence.
I growled as he moved closer. My muscles tensed, bringing slices of heated agony as the urge to change throbbed dimly in my limbs. I couldn’t afford to lose it and have them sedate me with that shit again.
“Well, we know mixing it doesn’t work.”
Lance’s smile began to flatten. “At least, for an average Infected. Whether what I wish to achieve will work with a created Vampire or,” he paused, “well, we are in the process of figuring that out.”
“I doubt it will work on one of your own.”
“What do you know, dog?” Lance sneered as he turned his back.
I know that you have to have a heartbeat and living cells in order for the Were-gene to mutate in a person’s body.
“Obviously not as much as you do.” I concealed my smile as two large Vamps unstrapped me from the table.
My body fell forward; I dropped to my knees. Licks of pain shot up my thighs and down my calves on the impact and I swallowed the scream before it reached my lips. How long had I been sedated? The two Vamps stood at either side of me and clamped their ice-cold hands on my upper arms, dragging me to my feet.
“Where are we going?” I tried to keep my head upright. My bare feet scraped the concrete floor as the two Vamps dragged me forward. My legs protested with each clumsy step, sending pins and needles shooting up my muscles. My stomach growled loudly.
“First, we will get you a little something to eat.” Lance stood in front of me.
I grimaced. “I will know if you try to poison me.”
He chuckled, and pushed open the lab doors.
“I have no need to poison you, Brendan. You have had enough monkshood over the last six days to make you co-operative enough for me to conduct my tests and take some samples. If I give you any more, you will die, and I can’t let that happen just yet.”
Six days. My stomach churned. I had been sedated for six goddamn days.
Heather, I’m sorry.
“Lucky me. But there are other types of poisons, you know?”
We walked the dim, silent, completely empty corridor past door after door, and each hallway we turned onto looked the same as the last. No distinctive marks indicated where the hell we were, but who needed signs when a sensitive nose could lead the way?
I dragged air into my lungs, pulling every scent locked in the facility deep within me and making a mental note.
“Of course there is, but as I said, I need you alive, just for a little longer.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “And it would be extremely helpful to me if you could stand on your own two feet.”
He smiled and pushed open a set of grey doors. “I have one last experiment I need you for.”
~ Heather ~
My heartbeat drummed in my ears, in every pulse point. The rapid beating. Always drumming. Never ending. The noise and movement stretched into all my muscles as they twitched beneath my skin. My blood rushed through my veins as fast and free as a river.
The fire still burned, under my skin and in my throat, behind my eyes. My lungs hurt. God, they hurt. The pain ripped through my stomach, claws shredded my skin from the inside. I needed to drink. Needed to drink and cool the fire. Needed to quench the fire.
Quench the thirst.
So cold. So cold in the darkness. So cold, and empty, and dark.
I’m alone. All alone, but I could hear them, walking back and forth. Their soft footfalls banging on the concrete outside my door. The smell of wet earth clinging to them.
I was thirsty. So thirsty. Why am I so thirsty?
They gave me water, but it wouldn’t quench the thirst. The ache that still burned my throat and my stomach. Why won’t it quench the thirst?
I knew why. I needed blood. Any blood. Animal blood. Animal’s blood tasted good. Real good.
Why did he give me blood? Why did he give it me and then not give me anymore? Why would he do that?
God, I’m so thirsty.
Footfalls heavy and quick, outside my door. The locks turned and the door opened. Someone fell into the room. Scents clung to the person: earth, poison, sweat, pine.... Blood.
The door closed, leaving the stranger alone. With me.
I inhaled. Blood, fresh and hot. Pumping rapidly through the veins. The person’s heart was strong. Beating fast, shallow breaths. Not afraid, but weak, quite weak.
Oh, God, I’m thirsty. So thirsty, and he had blood. Lots of blood that would cool the fire; quench the thirst. I needed blood. I needed it to stop the pain.
Claws ripped through me and they hurt.
They hurt so much.
I uncurled and used the wall to push myself up. Each movement sent blinding red light pulsing through my skull. My skin felt as brittle as tissue paper. God, the pain. I felt the pain everywhere; under my skin, in my head, my throat, my heart.... I wanted to die.
No. I needed to drink. If I drank, the pain would go away. I just needed to make the pain go away.
The smell of pine was so familiar, so calming, but...blood. I could smell it, rich, and hot. The scent floated in the darkness, in the cold.
I was not alone. Not alone anymore.
I just needed blood. Needed to quench the thirst. Needed to stop the pain. Needed to drink.
Must drink.
~ Brendan ~
After the puny meal Lance fed me, I walked back down the corridor. Katrina had informed him that after watching their two Infecteds for half an hour, running around in their little room, their bodies had used up the effects of my blood and now they weren’t moving. Still alive, but their energy had been zapped. Happily answering Lance’s earlier question, on what would happen if his species consumed my blood, earned me a hit in the face by one of my escorts. Were-blood appeared to be like caffeine or sugar to an Infected. Once it left their system, they were out cold. Needless to say, Lance hadn’t been happy.
The Vampire on my left opened a single metal door and pushed me inside the cold, dark r
oom. I stumbled and slid left, against the metal-panelled wall. I looked around the box shaped room as the door slammed shut. It may have been pitch-black, but a Werewolf's sight was even better in the dark. I inhaled, picking up the scent of dirt, anger, sweat, fear, blood and...venom. My ears pricked up at the sound of heavy breathing, and I caught sight of movement from the other side of the room.
I had an Infected in here with me, and it didn’t sound very happy.
Even with my back firmly pressed against the wall, my limbs still felt heavy, making it an effort for me to stand up.
Christ, I could hardly stand at the moment. An Infected is the last thing I need.
I hadn’t necessarily been put in here to kill it. Lance said this would be my last experiment. The minuscule amount of food he gave me lifted my energy slightly. He said he wanted me on my feet, but he didn’t say he needed me on them for long. Did he want me to fight this thing? Obviously, yes. Or, perhaps he wanted to see how well I could fight in such a poor condition. Stupid Leech!
My attention turned to the uncurling shape in the dark corner. The figure pulled itself up against the wall, rising to its full height.
The shape shuffled forward. It breathed hard and raggedly. They had probably starved the thing to death before shoving me in here with it.
How can the bastard experiment on his own species?
I flexed my hands and waited for it to lunge. The Infected didn’t disappoint me. With a screech, it leapt forward from the shadows...and my heart jumped into my throat at the sight of Heather coming toward me. My hands automatically clamped around her wrists. I held on to her tightly, pushing with all the strength I had to keep her away from me. Her pale skin had turned grey, her blue eyes were black, and her golden curls drooped in a tangled mess about her face. Six days and she looked.... What have they done to her? My throat closed as she thrashed about in my grip, screeching like a mad bird; her small fangs slid from her pink gums, and her eyes bored a hole into my throat.
“Heather?” I said as firmly as I could manage. “Heather. It’s me, Brendan.”
Her eyes shot to my face, but no recognition sparked in the large black pools.
“What have they done to you?”
Six days! Why put me in here with her?
The answer became obvious. They didn’t want to see how well I could fight with such little strength; they had starved her so she would attack and try to feed off anyone they threw in here, even me. Someone they considered to be close to her.
Six fucking days and she doesn’t even recognize me.
They wanted that. They wanted her to attack me, to feed from me. And they wanted me weak, so it would be a struggle.... Why?
Her body trembled as she continued to fight against me. Continued trying to reach me. What would happen if I let her drink from me? Would she be okay? Would she even be able to stop, because, by the look of her, I doubted it.
The Infecteds Lance injected had a heart attack, but Heather needed only nourishment. Only needed to drink my blood, but her body would crash eventually, and she would need to feed again. Why did Lance want her to feed from me?
Because Heather is different.
What had that redhead said? “They aren’t strong enough to handle the mix.”
Ordinary Infecteds weren’t strong enough, but Heather might be, because she wasn’t ordinary. She had said the Vampyrric virus was part of her. Just another experiment. She had to drink my blood. If she died, oh well. If she survived, would it just provide simple nourishment, or would it do something else? If drinking from me didn’t work, then what? Inject her and see if her body rejected it? Why? Why send me in here when they knew that drinking from me could kill her? Why mix our blood?
For fuck’s sake. I will kill that son-of-a-bitch. I swear it.
My heart tightened as I stared into Heather’s black, frantic eyes. Would the Vampyrric virus and the Were-gene cancel each other out, like they did in a normal Infected, or would they react in a different way? Would they increase the individual’s heightened senses? Dear God. Two species with inhuman senses and strength, which could walk in daylight, and transform into stronger predators. Mix them both together and...something completely unstoppable would be created.
I looked at Heather, still thrashing in my grip. She appeared exhausted and so hungry, yet the thirst had to be driving her crazy energy to fight for survival. She needed to feed. If she didn’t, I couldn’t even imagine what would happen to her, but I couldn’t let her feed from me. The risks on both sides were too great to take a chance. She was fucked either way.
God damn it, Sofia, why didn’t you warn me!
“I can’t, Heather.” I shook my head. “I can’t let you feed from me.”
I took a deep breath and spun her around, pulling her close to my chest, locking her arms over her stomach. Her body felt fragile and so small next to mine. So unlike the strong, hard-headed female I had come to know over the last few weeks. I could break her so easily; put her out of her misery. I had promised I would, if the moment came. It would be so simple...but I couldn’t. I couldn’t lose someone else, not when I had promised I would keep her safe.
She continued to fight, hissing and snarling like a rabid dog.
“Do you remember what you asked me to do for you, Slayer, the night we sat on the rooftop in London?” She wailed and kicked my shins with her heels.
“You said to me, ‘if I become one of them, kill me.’ Do you remember that?” Pain stabbed through my legs as she continued to kick me. “I promised I would kill you. It would be so easy for me to do it. I could break you right here. Right now.”
I squeezed her a little tighter. She wailed. I pressed my forehead to the back of her skull and inhaled.
She didn’t even smell the same.
My stomach twisted tighter and tighter. “I don’t know what they have done to you, but I swear we will make them pay. I will make them pay.”
Heat pulsated through my body as the smell of oak, moss, flowers, and grass invaded my senses. My mind wandered. I felt grass beneath my paws as the wind travelled through my fur. Adrenalin flew around my body as anger consumed me. The drumming of hearts beating in unison filled my ears.
I grabbed hold of it all, pulling everything I could sense into me. Letting it invade me.
Coming. The one word roared through my mind like a raging storm. A savage promise. Coming.
My Wolf howled, though it was low and broken.
Whatever these bastards had done to me, well, giving me monkshood had been a very bad idea because the Pack had felt it too, and they were pissed.
“You are not. One. Of. Them,” I growled through clenched teeth. “You listen to me, you stubborn pain in the arse. You’d better fucking hold on to whatever sanity you have left because I promised I would keep you safe. I promised your grandmother I would keep you alive, Heather. I swore I would keep you alive. Keep you safe. I have to, Heather. I need to. I am not going to lose you and I will be damned if you think you can just give over to this thirst. This same thirst you have restrained for your entire life. You are not giving up, damn it. I won’t lose you. Do you hear me?”
The top of her head smashed into my chin. Pain pulsed through my jaw. With a growl, I pulled her closer and slid down the wall, until we both sat on the floor. I swallowed the blood that oozed from my lips and clamped her legs between my thighs. The energy of my Pack engulfed me, giving me back the strength the Vamps had taken from me. The Pack’s adrenalin and anger roared through my blood, calling to my wolf, telling him to fight, to survive.
“They are coming. My Pack is coming, so trust me just this once, Slayer. I am going to get you out of here. I promise.”
~ Heather ~
He echoed inside my head, the words unclear, but he roared above the sounds of the heavy thudding of his heart and blood rushing through his veins.
“You are not. One. Of. Them,” he whispered in my ear.
I am. I am, and you should kill me. Kill me because if
you don’t, I am going to kill you. I don’t want to. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can smell your blood; I can smell it and taste it as it teases the fire in my throat, and I need to feed. Don’t you understand that I need to feed? That I want your blood?
The scent of pine mixed with hot iron wrapped around me in a heated embrace. They danced beneath the scent of sweat and faded cologne, but the thirst consumed me.
“Trust me just this once, Slayer. I am going to get you out of here.” His words rang in my head, the promise savage and fierce.
What is the point? It’s too late. I need blood. I need to feed. Nothing else matters but the thirst. Nothing else matters but the need for blood.
My heartbeat seemed to match that of a hummingbird’s wings, thumping so fast, I wanted to be sick. My muscles ached and I felt so damn hot; hot, like I had been cocooned in the sun. The thirst burned and I had to soothe it. I needed to. I needed to drink.
I am so thirsty. So thirsty.
Chapter Thirteen
~ Brendan ~
I rocked Heather in my arms until she passed out; she fought until her body couldn’t struggle any more. While we sat on the floor, I scanned the entire room. I couldn’t see the camera I knew had been placed in here, but it didn’t matter; my strength had started to come back. If Lance wasn’t opening the door because he wanted to see how long we could keep this going—basically, until one of us had killed the other—then he would be in for a long wait, with a nice shock at the end.
I gently slid up the wall, carefully cradling Heather. I waited for a moment to make sure she hadn’t woken up, then walked to her sleeping platform and put her down so she could continue sleeping. Her shirt had crawled up her abdomen during our struggle. As I went to pull it down, my eyes zoned in on her pale skin and the odd dark patch there. I moved the material to one side and forced the growl rising in my throat to die. Black and blue bruises covered her entire right side. I gently ran my index finger over her ribcage until I felt the broken bone beneath her swollen flesh. They’d cracked two of her ribs. Hadn’t bandaged her up. Hadn’t fed her, so that she wouldn’t heal. Just left her to suffer. What the fuck did I expect?
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