Night's Cold Kiss

by Tracey O'Hara

  Christian followed her eyes before turning back to his task. “I found him like that. Some of the prisoners have been here a long time.” He finished and screwed the top in place and looked around. “This is Lucian’s real work. He was creating biochemical weapons to target active parahuman DNA only, leaving humans untouched.”

  “Oh my God,” Antoinette whispered.

  “We have to get out.” He nodded to a timer displaying 5:59 on the wall and silently counting down. “Seems our unfortunate friend here was able to trigger it before some of the inmates took the opportunity for a little payback.”

  A muffled roar grew louder. “We have to hurry, the fire will be here any minute now,” she shouted.

  Christian slung the canisters over his shoulder. “Then run,” he yelled.

  She pulled the lab door shut behind them, and followed Christian toward the freight elevator. The fire had beat them; it was blocking the corridor with a collapsed ceiling and a wall of flames.

  “Shit,” Christian said, “we’ll have to use the other one.”

  He grabbed her hand and dragged her back the other way. The fire climbed the walls all around them, flames licking at the ceiling above, heat mounting and the smoke thickened. She’d have serious trouble breathing if she was still human.

  Up ahead a burning beam crashed across the corridor. Antoinette held her arm in front of her face as sparks swirled in the burning air. Christian vaulted the wreckage, taking her with him. The skin on her face felt tight and dry.

  They’d almost reached the elevator when the red flashing lights flickered. Electrical wiring hissed and crackled and the roar of the fire grew even louder as it bore down on them like a living animal. Christian hit the up button on the wall panel.

  After what seemed an eternity the doors finally opened and she stepped inside first, just as the ceiling collapsed, showering Christian with debris. A large chunk of concrete hit him on the side of the head, knocking him out cold.

  “Christian,” she screamed, her heart contracting tightly in her chest.

  She reached for his wrist and dragged his unconscious body into the lift and pressed the top button as soon as he was clear.

  Nothing happened.

  “Come on,” she cried, repeatedly hitting the button.

  Still nothing. The fire grew closer. As an Aeternus she could survive heat and smoke, but not fire itself.

  Frantically Antoinette punched the button again—to her relief the doors closed and the lift began to ascend. She sank back against the wall staring at the “Do not use in case of fire” sign and laughed with almost hysterical relief.

  Christian groaned. She dropped to her knees, propped his head on her thighs, and peeled back the hair on his temple where he’d been hit. Underneath the crusty blackened blood, the cut was healing over, but he was still unconscious.

  “Christian!” Antoinette lightly stroked his face. “Can you hear me?”

  He groaned in response, but didn’t wake. She had no idea how long it took an Aeternus to wake up from a head wound. Suddenly it struck her how helpless he must have felt as she lay dying. She would do anything to have him be all right, just as Christian had done for her. Tears welled in her stinging eyes. Great time for an epiphany.

  The lift kept rising. She couldn’t remember how long it had taken on the initial ride down, but it seemed to be taking forever now.

  The floor beneath her began to rattle and shake like it was caught in an earthquake. With a crashing boom, the elevator shuddered to a halt.

  “No!” she cried hitting the buttons again.

  The bomb in the lab must have detonated. The lights began flashing and crackling, while outside the high-pitched squeal of metal against metal strangled her nerves.

  Christian still lay unconscious with his head in her lap as the elevator steadily grew hotter. They were trapped. Panic bubbled just below the surface of her conscious mind, but she wasn’t about to give in to it yet—that wouldn’t help her and Christian get out of here.

  And then the elevator was plunged into darkness. What else could go wrong? After a few seconds her eyes adjusted and she was able to see clearly again. For the second time she was glad not to be human. Her new abilities were starting to grow on her. If only she could master her hunger. At least she would be harder to kill and therefore had a chance of making it out alive.

  She couldn’t just sit here waiting for a rescue that may never come, though. Looking around, she spotted the access hatch. Gently lowering Christian’s head onto the floor, she jumped up and gripped it. It was locked. Of course.

  She gripped the lip of the hatch housing and put all her power into driving her foot up above the covering. It burst upward and she used the momentum to swing herself out onto the top of the car.

  Pulleys and wire cables were the only things holding them up. The scent of burning grease and ozone filled the hot, dark shaft. Antoinette glanced up to a set of doors about twenty feet above. Only twenty feet—they could easily make that. If Christian were conscious, that was.

  “Hey,” she cried, cupping her hands around her mouth, “Anyone up there?” The elevator shook beneath her and the car dropped several feet, and she fell to her knees. The crunching of metal and whining of cables under stress screamed in the enclosed space. Smoke started to leak around the sides of the car.

  Antoinette popped her head back in through the hatch. “Christian,” she called, trying to wake him.

  He stirred, but didn’t rouse. They didn’t have any more time to waste as the elevator shuddered under her and she lowered herself carefully back into the car. Her newfound strength made it easy to pick him up and push him through the opening onto the roof. It was awkward, but she managed. The elevator jolted again. She froze until it settled, then as quickly and carefully as she could, she climbed back up through the hatch.

  Dragging Christian to the side was easy. Getting him up the narrow maintenance ladder would be another matter.

  As her hand curled around the warm steel rung, the car fell several more feet. His unconscious weight dragged on her arm, jolting them both. Now what? She couldn’t climb with one hand holding Christian’s weight.

  At that moment he groaned and miraculously opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. When he glanced down, he quickly grabbed the rung by her knee, the canisters he still had over his shoulder clunking against the metal ladder.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “I’ll explain when we get out of here,” she answered, letting go of his other hand. She sighed and gave silent thanks something was going their way for once. The groaning of cables again shook the shaft.

  “Let’s hurry then,” he yelled back over the screeching din.

  One hand after another, one foot after the other she climbed. Light cracked above her in the doorway, growing steadily wider. She continued to climb toward it when Oberon’s head popped through the gap. Then he used his shoulders to push the heavy doors wider.

  “Climb faster,” he yelled down at them.

  She missed the next foot rail in her haste and slipped, but kept a firm handgrip on the rung to keep from falling. She took a deep mental breath as Christian grabbed the ladder over her shoulder and wrapped one arm around her waist.

  “Be careful, but keep climbing,” he urged.

  With a surprising burst of speed, she did.

  The twang of snapping cables and the shattering squeal of metal filled the shaft. Antoinette glanced down to see the elevator disappearing from beneath them. She watched it fall all the way to the bottom, where it crashed in a loud exploding ball of fire. It must’ve blown out the doors below as the fire grew and began to ascend the shaft after them.

  She glanced over her shoulder as she climbed, the fireball rushed up at amazing speed.

  We’re not gonna make it. They were still a few feet from the top. An extra burst of speed and half a human heartbeat later, Oberon’s strong hands wrapped around her wrists and hauled her out. Christian leapt out of the shaft a
fter her, shoving Oberon out of the way before pushing her down and covering her body with his as the furnace-hot blast of flames exploded from the open elevator shaft doors.

  34

  A Cry in the Night

  The flames dissipated just as quickly as they’d burst into the room. Christian’s weight pressed Antoinette against the floor and she dared not move, or even breathe. His face was mere inches from hers. Blue eyes darkened as he held her gaze and ran his fingertips down her cheek and across her lips.

  “Are you all right?” he croaked.

  Her voice had been stolen, she could only nod.

  “Good.” His eyes dulled and he rolled off her.

  The smell of burnt hair and flesh overwhelmed her senses, churning her stomach. She sat up and turned Christian onto his stomach. A lump caught in her throat—his blackened jacket had partially burnt away and the skin beneath was scorched.

  “My God, Christian.” Her voice had returned.

  Oberon hauled his large bulk off the floor and crawled to where she sat.

  He looked at the burns and leaned close to Christian. “Well, Laroque, you sure know how to make an entrance.”

  To her surprise, Christian chuckled.

  “Let’s get you out of here.” Oberon wrapped his hands under Christian’s arms and lifted.

  The Aeternus groaned—some of the melted jacket fell to the floor. Underneath new healthy pink skin showed through as his body began to heal itself.

  A trembling under her feet grew steadily stronger until the house shook as if caught in an earthquake.

  “Let’s go,” Christian yelled as he finished climbing to his feet and held out his palm to Antoinette.

  The three of them raced through the house as it quaked about them. The chandeliers rattled and tinkled above, the pictures fell from the walls, and furniture overturned. But they made it to the door and out of the house onto the front lawn to dozens of flashing lights and buzzing activity.

  Bent over a thin creature, Bianca Sin looked up as they made it out. She spoke to the paramedic beside her before crossing to where they stood.

  “You found them,” she said.

  “I need to find my father,” Antoinette said, looking around the gathered people.

  “Christian’s been badly burnt and it might be a good idea if you got checked out too,” Oberon said. “Can you help them, Bianca?”

  “No, I’m fine,” Christian said. “Antoinette, go find your father. I have to talk to some people myself.”

  She dashed through gathered former captives on the damp lawn, all wearing the same expression of disbelief—as if they were waiting to wake up at any moment and discover they were only dreaming of freedom. She checked each person huddled under a blanket in the frantic search for her father’s face.

  She found him sitting near the row of handcuffed guards and ran in his direction. A paramedic attended him—relief and joy fought for dominance as she threw her arms around his neck. He hugged her tight for a minute, patting her back with shaky hands and then held her at arm’s length. “Let me look at you,” he said.

  She sat back, letting him twirl a lock of her hair, just as he used to do when she was a little girl.

  “You look just like your mother,” he said, tears welling in his eyes.

  Antoinette drank in her father’s features then looked around for Lisbet. She sat close by looking tiny and lost and totally alone.

  “Come here, Lisbet,” Antoinette said to the little girl with the eyes of an ancient woman. “This is my father, Grigore.”

  Grigore reached out his hand and cupped Lisbet’s face. “My God, Antoinette, she looks just like you did when you were a little girl.”

  Lisbet smiled up at the old man. “Lucian says I look like our grandmother.”

  “She’s family, Papa,” Antoinette said. “And she’s coming with us.”

  Antoinette realized he was only fifty-one, yet her father appeared at least half that age again. He kept nodding and looking from her to Lisbet and back again, his smile plastered to his worn old face.

  Antoinette had to talk to Christian. She squatted down in front her father and took Lisbet’s hand. “You two wait here together. I’ll be back soon and I’ll take you home to Katerina and Sergei.”

  Her father nodded. “That is good, Sergei will be pleased. And then you can tell me how you became an Aeternus?”

  She sensed someone watching her and turned around. For a nanosecond she thought she saw Dante standing near an ambulance. Then someone walked in front of her and she lost sight of him. A shuddering feeling of déjà vu peppered goose bumps up her arms. Surely Lucian killed him and if not, Oberon would have him taken into custody by now. She would ask him.

  Three helicopters roared overhead, buffeting everyone with the downward blast from their rotors.

  “Stay here,” Antoinette warned her father and Lisbet.

  She made her way toward the field adjacent to Lucian’s house where they landed. Christian and Oberon already stood at the far end of the field waiting to greet the people piling out of the aircraft. His back had totally healed, but was still a little pink and puckered—a testament to his strength as an Aeternus.

  He lifted the canister cord over his head and passed it to a woman wearing a black jacket with INTEL written across the back. He shed the remnants of his burnt top and slipped on the jacket she handed him, identical to her own. After he zipped it closed, he took back the canister and reslung it over his shoulder as he approached one of the suited men.

  “High-Chancellor,” he said, holding out his hand.

  “Agent Laroque,” the man answered with a French accent. “Your people were good enough to bring this to our attention. Fortunately we were holding a retreat not far from here to discuss the replacement of Sir Roger as our ambassador to CHaPR.”

  Covering your ass, more like it. Antoinette instantly disliked the head of the Guild. He was far too smooth—too oily.

  The High-Chancellor held a silver-headed cane, though he seemed not to need it. “I’ve called an emergency meeting of the Guild High Council to convene as soon as I return with my report. Can you fill me in on what happened here?”

  “I think Oberon DuPrie is the best person to do that, sir,” Christian said. “I have to get back to headquarters immediately for a debriefing with my superiors, and to get this to our labs.” Christian held one of the canisters he’d brought out of the lab.

  The High-Chancellor’s eyes narrowed, but he covered it quickly. “And what would that be?” he asked, seemingly innocent.

  He didn’t fool Antoinette, nor did it seem Oberon as the ursian stood a little way off, his arms crossed and frowning at the man.

  “Just something we want to identify before we make any wild guesses.” Christian covered it nicely. “As I said—Oberon DuPrie, formally of the VCU, can brief you, sir.”

  Antoinette turned toward a man moaning in pain. He was one of Lucian’s human guards and had several large gashes on his outstretched legs and ground his teeth while a paramedic cleaned the blood from a fresh seeping wound.

  Antoinette wasn’t thirsty. Not like she had been when she’d attacked Lucian, but the smell of fresh human blood reminded her of the appetite and the now-familiar growling began in the dark corner of her mind where the beast dwelled.

  “Come with me,” Christian whispered in her ear.

  He’d come up from behind and her heart skipped a beat as his breath hit the back of her neck. The beast growled again—this time hungry for more than just blood.

  “What?” she asked, caging the darkness a little more easily than last time.

  “Come back to New York with me; let me help you through this.” He gripped her upper arms and turned her around. “When I thought I would lose you…”

  “I can’t.” She ran her hand down the side of his face, a tear slipped down her cheek.

  “Why not?” he asked, stepping away from her.

  Antoinette looked over at her father being treated by
the paramedic. And Lisbet, who’d lost everything and everyone she’d ever loved. Antoinette knew what it was like to have your whole world ripped from underneath you. But it wasn’t just them. How could she tell Christian she wasn’t sure if she could forgive him for what he’d done to her—even if he’d done it with the best of intentions?

  She sighed and turned back to Christian. “I don’t know whether to thank you or hate you for what you’ve made me become. I don’t know how I feel or even what I feel anymore. You’ve turned everything upside down and I don’t know what feelings to trust.” She met his eyes and held them with all the strength she possessed. “How can I give myself to you when I don’t know who or what I am anymore?” She swiped away the tears. “I don’t even know where I fit…”

  “Antoinette, please—” He reached for her but she shrank away. If he touched her, it would break her resolve. She needed to get away from him to think clearly. She glanced over her shoulder at her father and Lisbet. They needed her.

  “Right now I belong with my family. I need to take them home.”

  His eyes, so full of guilt and pain, searched hers and he started to reach out again but dropped his arm to his side. With one last searching glance, he spun on his heels. He strode to the waiting helicopter and, without looking back, he signaled for the pilot to take off.

  She watched the chopper disappear into the night sky. Hollowness gripped her chest, squeezing the breath from her lungs. It would go away eventually…wouldn’t it? She wiped away another stray tear as it slipped down her cheek and turned.

  Antoinette rolled off the training mat. Exercise was so effortless these days, and she couldn’t even break a sweat no matter how hard she tried. She did it more out of habit than any need to maintain fitness.

  Cerberus sat by the door and lifted his head at her approach, his tail thumping the floor excitedly. Christian had sent the dog to her when he wouldn’t stop pining, and she was glad of the company.

  Antoinette had always loved this school, but now it seemed too small. Too restricting.