The silence deepened.
I felt my jaw harden. I did my best to keep it off my face, but I doubt I fooled anyone.
I didn’t fool Black, nor likely Jem himself.
I felt Black’s eyes on me, but I didn’t look over.
He didn’t let it go, though.
Miri? he sent, soft. You don’t have to be here for this.
He paused, still watching my face. His thoughts grew blunt.
He’s right, though, he added. We’re at that point. We need to discuss this with the team. They need to know what the lab guys figured out. They need to know what we know, especially if we’re putting them out in the field.
I gave him a sideways glance.
Seeing his gold eyes watching mine, cautious, I sighed.
I’m not leaving, Black, I sent, shaking my head perceptibly. But I agree. I don’t think Jem is going to be content with half-assed answers anyway. The last thing we need is him going after the lab guys. They have a right to know––
“Well?” Jem said.
Black and I both turned, looking at him.
Jem frowned. “Is that possible?” he said. “Could they have turned him?”
He glanced between me and Black, frowning, like he knew we were talking but not what we’d actually said. Raising his voice slightly, he added,
“That’s the mythology, right? That they start as human? Didn’t you tell me, lao ban, that they wanted to turn Miri? That they threatened to turn Cowboy? Isn’t that part of what that mess in New York was about?”
The silence around the table grew deafening.
I saw Angel frowning now though, exchanging looks with Cowboy. I felt the pain in her heart as Jem’s words sank in, as she let herself turn the idea over in her mind.
“There is research, correct?” Jem went on, undaunted.
I saw his jaw harden as he glanced around at the others, only to focus most of his intensity back on Black.
Looking at the green-eyed seer’s handsome face, I realized he was barely containing his fury. It confused me, since that fury didn’t seem to be aimed at me or Black, or at anyone around the table really.
I wondered who he was angry at.
Was it Charles? The vampires? Nick himself?
“Didn’t you obtain at least some of the data files from those government labs?” Jem pressed. “I am told none of us have access to those files… none but Black himself.” Jem’s gaze flattened on Black. “Well, brother? Is this true? And if it is, are you going to tell us what’s in them? Or is there some reason this information isn’t to be shared with the rest of us?”
Black frowned at him faintly.
I could feel off his light that he had a better idea than I did why Jem was acting the way he was. I could even feel Black had specific thoughts about Jem’s reasons. Whatever those reasons were, they seemed to bring up a conflicted set of emotions in Black himself.
Annoyance, yes… but also a fainter thread of sympathy.
Understanding, at least.
Exhaling some of the annoyance part of that, Black leaned back in his chair.
“We know a little more than you’ve been told,” he conceded. Giving Jem a harder look, he added, “But not as much as you seem to be insinuating, brother.”
He glanced at me, then around at the rest of the room.
“We were able to access most of the files that survived the fires in Louisiana. It wasn’t easy,” he went on, letting out a low grunt. “A fair bit was destroyed, but from what the lab guys here tell me, the records are surprisingly complete in terms of their conclusions, despite the missing case studies and samples.”
He glanced at Jem, then went on in a matter-of-fact voice.
“So here’s what we know so far,” he said. “…In terms of vampire reproduction. Vampires can’t just turn any old human they want. They can only turn those who have a compatibility with their venom.”
He glanced at me, then back at Jem.
“At the lab, they found four distinct genetic types the vampires can turn. Vampires seem to know this instinctively… which humans they can turn, and which ones they can’t. I don’t know if they fucking smell it on people, if it’s pheromones or what, but they know. They knew with Cowboy. We tested him, using the samples we took when we hired him. He came up positive as a possible conversion opportunity for two out of the four genetic types of vampire.”
Silence fell on the group.
Letting that silence hang for a beat, Black looked at Angel.
“You’re susceptible too, Ang,” he said. “For one of the vampire genetic types, at least.” He looked at Manny next. “You’re in the clear, Mañuelito. None of the vampire types were compatible with your blood.”
His eyes shifted down another chair.
“You’re in the clear too, Easton. Frank’s not. He’s compatible with three types. Magic, unfortunately, is compatible with all four. So is Dog. Devin is in the clear. Ace, you’re in the clear, too. So is Kiko.”
He looked down another chair.
“Dex, you’re susceptible to two of the genetic strains. Javier is, too.”
Staring around the table, Black frowned, his voice blunt.
“We have profiles on all of you. I intended to share them with the group after we got back here, now that our genetics team is pretty confident of their findings. In the meantime, I’ve been assigning some of our ops according to what I know of your risk factor.”
He gave Angel a pointed look, his mouth twisting into a harder scowl.
“…That includes the recent trip Miri and I took to find Nick.”
Angel quirked an eyebrow at him, then turned, exchanging looks with Cowboy. Despite her faintly pursed lips, I could see a kind of lightbulb going off as she realized why Black was telling her, and why he’d been so adamant that she not accompany us to Europe.
After a beat, her frown deepened all over again, though.
“What about Nick?” she said. “You had a blood sample for him, too, didn’t you?”
Black barely gave her a glance.
His eyes returned to the rest of the group as he leaned back in his chair, hard enough to make it squeak, and folded his arms.
“When I was imprisoned in those labs, I had a vampire tell me there was another way of turning humans into vampires,” he said. “He didn’t tell me what it was. He just said the venom was ‘one way’ to create new vampires… the only way ‘the humans’ knew about.”
Black paused, then lifted one hand from where it was crossed over his chest, gesturing smoothly in a rippling motion.
“…The vampire who told me that was named Puzzle,” he said. “He was young, and acted like a child in many ways, so I have no idea if his account was reliable. Still, he knew about sight restraint collars, and how they operated. He knew they came from tech Charles gave them. He also knew a fair bit about what the human scientists in that lab were up to, since they considered him relatively harmless for a vampire and spoke in front of him more candidly than they did with the others––”
“What were his exact words?” Kiko planted her arms on the table, leaning over to look at Black. “This vampire. Puzzle. What did he say to you exactly, boss?”
Black gave one of those eloquent seer shrugs.
Still, he was seer, so he could parrot back the exchange with Puzzle word for word.
It was strange to hear him do it, since his whole voice changed when he switched to Puzzle’s response, growing higher, and more childlike.
“Puzzle said, Vampire venom, of course. The humans try to make vampires here, Quentin. The government has been trying for the last few years, ever since they figured out we exist. Of course, their failure rate is pretty abysmal. But they’ve never had one of you in here before, so I don’t think they know what you are. Then, a little later in the conversation, he said: My name’s Puzzle. They use me for venom. Me and about a dozen others. I asked, Venom? You make venom? That’s how you make vampires? Puzzle nodded, then said, Well, that’s on
e way. The only way they know about. They extract it. They try to make a kind of genetic virus cocktail out of it.”
Black clicked out of that headspace, glancing at Kiko.
Raising an eyebrow, he gave her another eloquent shrug.
“Those were his exact words. He definitely implied venom was only one way vampires reproduce, that any other ways that might exist were unknown to humans. I never got him to answer me on what those were. Presumably, Charles doesn’t know, either. He was very interested when I mentioned Puzzle’s words on the subject, the one time Charles and I spoke of it. Although it’s possible that was simply an act and Charles didn’t wish to share that information with me.”
There was another silence.
I glanced around the table, watching everyone think about Black’s words.
“And you’re sure about Miri?” Jem said, drawing eyes back to him. “I thought their venom killed seers. But you said Brick seemed certain he could turn her. Why is that?”
“Vampire venom does kill seers,” Black said, exhaling as he combed his fingers through his hair. “There’s pretty much a 100% kill ratio for seers who are given an undiluted dose the size needed to turn a comparably-sized human into a vampire. I’m damned lucky they didn’t kill me in those labs.”
Black’s voice and jaw hardened.
“…And no, I’m not at all sure about Miri. We don’t have a control group for Miri, so I have no idea why Brick seemed so sure he could change her. It’s possible he has some extrasensory means of determining that, like he does with humans… but I have my doubts. The impression I got from Charles was that vampires didn’t know they couldn’t change seers, not until they’d killed a bunch of them trying. Whatever extrasensory ‘thing’ they have to determine which humans can be turned and which can’t, it doesn’t seem to work on seers.”
Black looked at me.
Briefly, I saw a faint worry crease his brow.
I sent him a pulse of warmth and saw his face relax, but only a little.
“According to the labs,” he went on, his expression sliding back to that flat look as he turned his attention to the rest of the group. “Humans who don’t respond favorably to the venom sometimes didn’t die. A fair-few recovered, after getting really sick. A few of those ended up with some brain damage… but most of the brain damage problems they encountered was when they tried to turn the ones they made into vamps back into humans again.”
Exhaling, he made another vague but somehow expression gesture with his hand.
“The test group of non-compatible humans had something like a 60/40 chance of living, when injected with venom by the scientists conducting the studies. The studies indicate that this was primarily a lab phenomenon, however. Usually it wasn’t an issue ‘in the wild,’ as they put it, since vampires generally didn’t try to turn those humans. They already knew they were ineligible. It was only when they separated the venom from particular vampires and tried it out on human test subjects that this occurred.”
Angel’s voice rose a second time from the other side of the table.
That time, her tone was significantly harder.
“And Nick?” she said, terse. “Was he in the yes camp? Or the no camp?”
Black frowned.
He glanced at me, then looked directly at Angel.
I couldn’t help noticing Jem was watching Black minutely too, waiting for his answer.
“Nick was in the ‘no’ camp,” he said, blunt. “Nick couldn’t turn. He was incompatible with all four genetic strains identified by the labs.”
There was a spate of low murmuring around the long table.
Angel stared back at him, frowning. She didn’t speak.
Jem didn’t either, and after a few seconds, the murmurs died down, too.
“Nick knew he wasn’t compatible,” Black added, when no one else broke the silence. “He was the only civilian human privy to those discussions, who was aware of the different genetic types required for humans and vampires to be compatible. The Colonel opted to bring him in, partly because of his military background, and his level of security clearance, which he’d gotten renewed through me when he joined my company. Even within the military, however, only the Colonel and a few others knew about any of this.”
Black’s eyes returned to Angel, his voice grim.
“But Nick knew he wasn’t eligible to be made into a vampire. He knew about the different ‘types’ of humans. He would have known he wasn’t a candidate for being turned.”
Frowning at the silence his words produced, Black looked about to say more, when Jem spoke up from the other side of the room.
“And these other methods of reproduction?” he said. “How do we know Nick wasn’t eligible for one of those?”
Black turned, meeting Jem’s gaze.
Then, looking at me, he exhaled again, his words close to an apology.
“Look, I know it’s tempting to go there,” he said. “I get that. We know there’s some chance of turning vampires back into humans again, so believing that Nick could have been turned has the appeal of hope. But the fact is, we have months of research out of Charles’ camp and out of those labs in Louisiana. Our techs have yet to find a single case of a vampire existing who didn’t fit into those genetic paradigms… and they’ve taken samples from literally thousands of vampires at this point. Most of those were not created in the labs under that warehouse in Louisiana. Most were made in the wild.”
Pausing to let his words sink in, Black made another graceful gesture with his hand.
“Becoming a vampire likely wouldn’t have a happy ending for Nick anyway,” he added, that apologetic note still in his voice. “In case any of you didn’t hear that part, a good portion of those who were turned from vampires back into humans ended up vegetables. I thought at first that was because they mentally couldn’t cope with the transition, after being vampires for so long. That definitely seemed to be true of Brick’s wife, Lila.”
Black gave me another fleeting glance, then clenched his jaw, looking back at the rest of the group.
“But even those who were newly turned in those labs were as likely to become vegetables from the process as not. They had a name for them at the prison where they held me. Zombies. That’s what they called the prisoners who went to the labs and were sent back to the joint. Cowboy could tell you more about that than me, since he witnessed it firsthand. He said generally they were transported out of there again quick. The rest of the inmates assumed they were sent to some kind of psychiatric facility, since they acted like they’d been lobotomized in a lot of cases. Some were also violent.”
Clenching his jaw, Black looked directly at me.
“No one wants that for Nick,” he said, his voice gruff. “No one.”
Looking at him, I swallowed, nodding perceptibly.
Glancing at Angel, I could see Black’s words hitting at her, too.
I knew he was right.
I knew it, but it still hurt my heart, maybe even some part of my soul, to hear it out loud.
For Nick, there was unlikely to be any kind of happy ending.
The more time that passed with him missing, the less likely it was.
I could practically feel that window closing, even now, as we all sat around the table, absorbing Black’s words. Unless we got word of him alive somewhere soon, that likelihood of him surviving would only continue to diminish. The few remaining scenarios––that he was being held prisoner by vampires, held for ransom by Charles, that he might have some strange form of amnesia that left him wandering around Thailand or some part of Europe––each became less and less plausible the longer Nick was gone.
I knew it.
So did Black.
I still couldn’t make myself accept it, though.
5
A Favor
“I WOULD REQUEST a favor from you, my king.”
Pausing, the vampire cleared his throat.
“…I ask it humbly. But with some insistence.”
Brick glanced up, frowning faintly from where he’d been watching a live-stream on a tablet set up on an antique oak desk. The monitor currently played live news coverage of a massive human political rally in Houston, Texas.
Refocusing from the blond male giving a speech on the monitor to the blond male standing in front of him, he pursed his lips in faint surprise, giving him a once-over once he saw his serious expression.
When the other male didn’t react to his stare, or say anything more, Brick nodded, once.
“Speak it.”
The vampire walked deeper into the room, his perfect, king-like face unmoving as he reached where the firelight touched his cheeks, forehead and nose on one side. He stood over the desk where Brick worked. Something in the formality of the pose brought memories flickering into the back of Brick’s mind.
Dorian had been a lord in the human world, before he’d been turned.
It was a strange thought now, one Brick didn’t dwell on often.
Yet, the tall, fine-featured vampire still carried some hint of that essence.
He carried it even when he swung a steel-edged skateboard at the head of one of his victims, or when he dressed like a young punk, or a young tech worker, or a stockbroker, or an assassin, or when he made himself totally nondescript.
It was something lingering in his genetics, perhaps.
Or perhaps one simply never shed that initial image of oneself, even when switching species… even after over a hundred years had passed.
“What can I do for you, my brother?” Brick said, leaning back in his chair.
Surveying the other vampire’s face, he folded his hands over his solar plexus, letting the swivel chair squeak as he rocked backwards, balancing with one foot propped on his knee and propped lightly against the edge of the desk. He surveyed the seriousness in those blood-red eyes with some curiosity.
It wasn’t like Dorian to hesitate––on anything.
TO BLACK WITH LOVE: Quentin Black Mystery #10 Page 8