As I floated through a myriad of emotions, I slapped a hand to the paneling covered wall behind me and rose on unsteady legs.
“Call Micah,” I murmured to myself. “She’ll know what to do.”
“Vincenza.” Finn shifted his weight, wincing from the ache of the movement. “I can’t walk on my own. Will you help me?”
Hysterical laughter bubbled up the back of my throat, threatening to erupt in a complete meltdown. The first time we met, he wore a plaid shirt with a russet leather jacket. Now, he was holding his torso together with both hands.
“Vinx, please?” he pressed.
I knew I had a shopping list of reasons to reject his pleas. Unfortunately, hovering over the slack meat of my fresh kill, my fumbling mind couldn’t seem to recall them. Attempting to scoot around the body, the toe of my shoe bumped Joselyn’s father’s thigh. A whimper escaped me that I clamped my lips shut to suppress.
“All these pictures on the walls,” Finn whispered as if offering confession. “He used them as part of his game. Covering his eyes, he would throw a dart at a wall. Whichever vile photo he landed on, that is what he would do to me. Once, he even made me throw the dart.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I ventured, skin crawling with the visualization of that horrid torment.
“Mourn the loss of a part of you from this kill. Not the man you took down. We are cursed with the title of monsters. He earned it.”
Edging up beside him, I eased Finn’s arm around my shoulders and held tight to his waist. “Lean on me. Let’s get out of here.”
“You said you were going to call Micah.” Finn’s voice rose and fell with huffs and grunts of pain. “Who is that? Who are you working with?”
“An elite group of none of your fucking business,” I answered, stare locked on the door.
“Wait!” Finn attempted to plant his feet with all the weak resolve he could muster. “The puppy, we have to get the puppy.”
“Puppy?” I pulled up short, searching his face for signs he was kidding.
“There, in the corner. Little thing won’t make it much longer if he’s left here.” I followed Finn’s nod to a tiny French Bulldog pup cowered in the corner. Covered in his own filth, every rib was clearly visible through his patchy, black hide. Ears pulled back, his slight frame trembled in a combination of fear and starvation. “He used the dog as an hour glass, taunting me with the promise of a meal if I could just get off the table. He gave the dog water but no food and told me when his time ran out, so would mine.”
“That’s the heartbeat I heard.” Helping Finn lean against the wall, I retrieved the frightened pooch. After letting him sniff my hand, I unhooked the chain wrapped around his neck and carefully folded him into my arms. Pointed ears perking, he thanked me with a feeble lick to the point of my chin. “You slaughtered my entire family, but your soft side comes out for a puppy?”
Giving me a minute to tuck the pup under one arm, Finn eased his weight back onto my shoulders. “No, I’m still starving. I was hoping you would cut the little guy’s throat and let me drink him.”
“I’m not feeding you a dog!” I yelped, tone dripping with disgust. “Ugh … thank you for reminding me why I loathe you.”
“If you loathe me, why did you save me?” Finn asked—his tone not one of accusation, but genuine curiosity.
Shuffling through the shadows of the basement, I tipped my face to the light beaming down from above. “Because, no one gets to kill you but me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Experiment Day 400 Continued: Effect
Qualitive Data- Data that asks broad questions and collects word data from phenomena or participants.
The house was silent as a grave. The sounds of home, music playing, or devices streaming had all been ominously hushed. Most importantly, no pitter patter of little paws scurried across the floor to greet me.
“Find Batdog,” I demanded, kicking off my shoes. Those were the first words I spoke to Carter since our rushed exit from Lockwood-Mathews. “If he’s hurt, I suggest you get out of the house. That’ll mean there’s a colossal clash of fangs coming you do not want to get caught in the middle of.”
Carter squinted into the darkness, his gaze on a constant swivel. “And if I run into our bloodthirsty scientist along the way? What should I do then? Because pretty much the only weapon I have at my disposal is screaming like a girl and soiling myself.”
Lifting my chin, I sniffed the air. “You won’t. She’s upstairs.”
I left the lights off as I prowled through the house, letting her scent lead me to the second floor. Creeping on tiptoe, the floorboards betrayed me by creaking underfoot.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Mics,” I beseeched the darkness. “Finn had blood on his breath. Tell me you tripped over the body of his victim and panicked when you found your pretty party dress ruined.” Pushing open the door to her bedroom with the tips of my fingers, a slight whiff confirmed no one had been in there all night and urged me farther down the hall. “Tell me any of the other vamps there killed that woman. I need your reassurance that you weren’t stupid enough to drain a human at the home of Rau Mihnea … son of the Impaler.”
Flicking on the bathroom light chased away any lingering hope with a flood of harsh reality. Blood smeared the white subway tile walls. Regurgitated gore filled the toilet bowl, and coated the seat. Micah sat huddled in the corner, her knees pulled tight to her trembling chest. Red-tinged tears streaked down her cheeks as she forced her stare to mine. The desperation etched on her face pleaded with me to save her from herself.
“I-I don’t know what happened,” she hiccupped. Wiping her face with the back of her hand accomplished nothing but smearing more of the ghoulish crimson. “I know I killed her, but I don’t know how … or why. I hated the taste. Hated myself for hurting her. I barely made it home before I puked. I keep trying to remember the details. But, it’s just … blank. All I know for sure is that I woke up beside her, panicked, and ran. What am I going to do, Vinx? The coalition will have me killed when they find out, and that would be the merciful alternative.”
Maybe it was a ploy. Maybe I was kidding myself. She knew similar black-outs were something familiar to me. That was information she could easily use and manipulate. Truth be told, it didn’t matter. Micah was the closest thing I had to family. After everything that had happened, I refused to lose her, too.
Padding into the bathroom, I took her by the arms and eased her up on wobbly legs. “The coalition isn’t going to find out.” I tapped her shoulder blade, urging her to turn her back to me. After pinching together the blood encrusted fabric, I unzipped her gown. “When I saw you were gone, I told Rau I sent you home because you were there against my wishes. Apparently, I’m the kind of sire that can’t tolerate that kind of thing from my progeny.” I ducked around her and turned on the shower. “I even used big words to make it more convincing.”
Letting the straps of her gown fall over her shoulders, Micah held the bodice in place. An almost-smile twitched at the corners of her lips. “And you think he bought that?”
Rolling my fingers under the water, I waited for it to warm. “He’s a few centuries old and has seen shit we couldn’t begin to fathom. Of course, he was leery. I expected nothing less. Which is exactly why we need to meet this head on.” Satisfied with the water temperature, I flicked the droplets from my fingers and turned to face her.
Sniffling, Mics did her best to collect herself. “What do you mean?”
“Rau has a local affiliate news station visiting one of the vampire refugee camps and he asked us to be there.”
The second I uttered the words, Micah began shaking her head, slow at first but gaining in speed and intensity with each pass. “No. No! I can’t. One look at me and he’ll know—”
Catching her face between my palms, I forced her stare to meet mine. “You can do this, and
you have to. Hiding shows guilt. Guilt makes you the enemy of the coalition. We are going to go, and you will admit to having spotty knowledge about what went on tonight, which is true. But, our new truth is that you only know what I reported back to you. That includes having any knowledge at all about Joselyn and her mask. Where did you get that, by the way? You know what? Even if you do know, don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter. Because as of this moment, you know nothing about her. For the first time in your life, Micah, you have to play dumb. That is the only way we’re getting out of this alive.”
“Nothing happened tonight,” Micah repeated, her face crumbling as a fresh onslaught of sobs shook her shoulders. “I’m not a horrible person who deserves to die.”
If she’s horrible, what does that make me?
I knew firsthand what it felt like to be haunted by ghosts from my past.
Collecting her in my arms, I hugged her to me. “No, you’re not a bad person. We don’t know what happened, and even if we did, we can’t change it. Our focus now is removing all doubt that you were anywhere but at home, pouting, tonight. Help me script your evening,” I prompted, in hopes of distracting her from her strangling guilt. “What did you do when you got home in this alternate reality?”
Pulling back, Micah’s chin fell to her chest to examine her ruined dress. “Hung my gown up neatly in my closet to honor it as the paragon of striking fashion it was.”
“Let’s hope he never rifles through your closet looking for it, because that thing is a lost cause in need of a funeral pyre,” I countered, nodding to encourage her on. “And after that?”
“I don’t know.” Micah’s tone bordered on hysteria. “Watched TV? What does it matter?”
Instead of arguing, I guided her back to the right path. “What did you watch?”
“I don’t know!” Jabbing her palms to the ceiling, she let her hands fall to her sides with a slap. Her gown slipped down a little farther, revealing the lacy top of her strapless bra. “One of those stupid vampire shows, so I could mope about what a good sire looks like after you sent me home for a time-out.”
“Good! That’s great. Which show? The subscription channel one that’s basically porn, or the teen one where everyone has perfect hair and spends all their time brooding?”
“Subscription channel … for sure.” Could it be? Had she actually relaxed an iota?
“Did you have a snack?”
“Mug of blood with cinnamon.”
Recoiling, my nose crinkled in disgust.
“What? It’s good.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” I stepped around the splatter and retrieved a bath towel from the linen closet. “We’ve got a good start on our story. Now, we need to convince you. Take a shower and scrub it all away. I’m going to go change out of my dress, then I’ll get this bathroom cleaned.”
Accepting the towel, Micah attempted a grateful smile that landed closer to a grimace. “Thank you, Vincenza. I honestly don’t know where I would be without you.”
Probably inventing a cure for cancer, or engineering a Jeston’s style flying car.
“But I am here, so you have nothing to worry about,” I reassured her. Stepping out, I closed the bathroom door behind me to let her scrub the night off herself. Before reaching my third-floor oasis, I shrugged off the straps of my gown and wriggled it over my hips. After letting it fall in a heap at my feet, I stepped out of the confining fabric and walked to my dresser in search of my sweats. Clad only in a nude slip, a hint of my grandmother’s file could be seen poking out from beneath, where I tied it to my thigh with a black, velvet ribbon.
A soft knock rattled my open door.
“Someone is looking for you,” Carter stated, releasing Batdog, who scampered straight for me with a happy yip. “He was hiding under the dining room table, unharmed but—wisely—incognito.”
Crouching down, I scooped up my wiggling pup. “There he is! There’s my sweet boy.”
Batdog’s entire backside swung at lightning speed. Sniffing and snorting, he gave my face a frantic tongue bath.
Free of his suit coat, the sleeves of Carter’s shirt were rolled mid-way up his forearms. His bowtie hung loose around his neck. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze wandering the length of me. “So, I overheard that we’re going to a vampire refugee camp. Do I need to find someone to watch our furry little friend for the outing?”
“You’re not going,” I corrected, the cold steel of my tone leaving no room for argument.
Nailing the smoldering, pensive look, Carter peered up at me from under his brow. “Can I ask why you’ve suddenly decided to break up the Three Musketeers?”
Giving Batdog one last kiss to the forehead, I set him down on the bed. He did three complete circles before laying down. “My freshman year of high school I went to see the school performance of South Pacific. A senior by the name of Thadd Montgomery played the role of Lt. Joseph Cable. The second I saw him, I was instantly infatuated. In that unrequited way only a fourteen year old with no experience with boys can be. His presence and charisma took my breath away, and I was hooked … for a time at least. Then, he graduated and faded from my sheltered existence.”
“As much as I enjoy the insight into your past, I’m not sure that answered my question,” Carter chuckled.
Ignoring his interruption, I untied the file from my thigh and set it on my dresser, carefully folding the ribbon under it. “My freshman year at Yale, I saw him on campus. Fooling myself into thinking I was an experienced adult, I got up the nerve to talk to him. What resulted was two whole days spent with him. I picked him up early afternoon … at his parents’ house, and dropped him off in the wee hours of the morning … also at his parents’ house.”
“And, there, you got to live out your girlish fantasies?”
“Hardly,” I scoffed. “Our time was spent with him talking and me listening like the enraptured groupie I was. We never kissed, never touched in any way for that matter. For all I know, he was gay. But, see, it didn’t matter. I got off on the thrill of being with him.”
Pushing off the wall, Carter edged closer. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” fingertips brushing across the top of my mahogany dresser, I turned to face him, “I am to you, what he was to me … a novelty.”
“What? N-no,” he stammered, pulling back.
“Who’s Coraline?” I asked, pressing pause on his staged antics.
Expression icing over, he bought himself some time by dragging his tongue over his bottom teeth. “You uttering that name tells me you already know. So, I’ll simply say she was an ex, and things got a little … out of control between us.”
Moving in a blur of speed, I slammed my bedroom door shut. I caught Carter by the wrist and flung him onto my bed. Lip curling into a snarl, I dove on top of him and pinned him to my mattress with my knees against his hips. I settled into my straddle, dropping fang for the full vampress effect. “All this time, all those doe-eyed looks, and all I am to you is a naughty little fetish. We can get that out of your system right now. I could ride you at a foamy gallop until you beg me to stop … if that’s what you’re in to.”
Desire and remorse battled for primary position in his desperate stare. “I was hooked on her blood. What’s been forming between you and I is completely different. You know that, Vinx.”
“Do I?” I mused, cocking my head. “And I should base all my trust and compassion on a feeling?”
Sinking into my mattress, Carter sagged beneath me and gave himself over to my limited mercy. “That’s how these things work among the living … and in love.”
Leaning down, I breathed the words into him. “But I’m not.”
Let him decipher which claim I was denying.
“When my family was slaughtered and I was left for dead, Finn didn’t act alone. There was a vampir
e bitch beside him with wild hair and flawless mocha skin. I dubbed her the Black Mamba. You whispered her name on a lover’s breath … Coraline.”
A wall of realization slammed into him, draining him ashen and swinging his jaw slack. Mouth opening and shutting, he hunted for an apology, an explanation, something.
“Don’t bother,” I coaxed, grinding my hips against the perked desire that betrayed him. “While you were caught up in your favorite kink, she was taking field trips to wipe out entire families. How does that play into your little fantasy?”
Repelling off the mattress, I flung myself across the room and steadied myself against my dresser. “Whatever this was, whatever we were on our way to being, is over. I’m more than a naughty fixation.”
Carter pushed himself up on one elbow, struggling to stabilize his breathless reaction. “You have to know we’re more than that.”
“Yet, here we are.” Pinching the silver file between my fingers, I flipped it over and back again. “I’ll work beside you, I’ll fight beside you, but from this point on, Carter … stay the fuck away from me.”
Chapter Sixteen
Experiment Day 231 Continued: Cause
Null Hypothesis – Rejecting or disproving a hypothesis.
Balancing grandma’s silver nail file between the pads of my index fingers, I chewed over the idea of shoving Micah aside from her task of stitching Finn back together and driving it handle deep into his heart.
To the neighbors lining the street of what had once been Joselyn’s home, it outwardly appeared a standard—albeit tragic—accident scene. Cop cars were parked on the lawn. Coroners loaded the body of Joselyn’s father into the back of their van, after the “poor man” suffered a fatal “heart attack.” All of it was staged. Every element, no matter how seemingly insignificant, was a cog in an intricate and well-oiled machine engineered by our enigmatic benefactors. Even the people, minus Finn, the lookie-loos, and the not-so-dearly departed, were on the payroll of the underground activists. Myself included. We would all play our part to sweep my crime under the rug for what was considered the greater good. But all the scrubbing and white washing in the world couldn’t cleanse the fountain of blood tainting my soul.
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