by D. N. Hoxa
What we found there was breathtaking. My whole body shivered under the drops of water at the thought of the pictures I’d seen. The Council was indeed using the potion on supernaturals, but they were using a different dose on them than they did on humans, perhaps even a different mixture. Whatever it was, it made them forget to question whatever they were asked to do and made them blindly loyal to Samayan. The problem was the groups they arranged. They had an army of werewolves, an army of hyenas, a group of special forces with bears and of course, a group of Nephilim and of fairies.
Samayan was keeping them separated from each other. They were being fed and trained and were sleeping in different compounds. Where? No idea. Why? We weren’t sure.
My theory was that he was testing the potion on different kinds of sups to see who reacted how to it. Aaron’s theory was that he was preparing different groups for different actions. Of course, he was inspired since our dearest Audrey stood by him the whole time. I couldn’t believe he let her in the security room and in on everything that was on the flash drive. But he said she could be trusted, and despite that I hated her guts, I trusted Aaron. So I let it go.
Still, I couldn’t help but notice the many times she tried to make him hold hands with her, and he, always so casually, moved his hand away. He kept giving me ice-cold looks that made my whole body break out in goose bumps, but then Audrey would whisper her secrets in his ears and giggle, and that helped in replacing the sadness with raw anger.
Argh! I had other issues to deal with, so I tried my best to ignore them—no matter that I failed.
I couldn’t wait to interrogate the werewolf I’d taken with me from Texas. We were keeping him in a reinforced room with so many iron bars that it looked more like a cage than a cell. Horatio said that we had to wait until the morning to talk to him because, according to him, that was how long the potion’s effect was going to last.
I turned the water off reluctantly and slowly started to prepare for the day. But, before I even started to dry myself off, I opened the drawer under the sink and took my sun-shaped necklace in my hands. Illyon. The White Book of Wisdom. I held it tightly in my palms and already regretted that I’d have to open it later on. I had to find the formula for Veritas, the potion of truth. I just hoped that I would be able to read it.
I quickly dressed in my usual black outfit, and ten minutes later, I was out the door and on my way to Kyle. I knew he’d be there because despite the fact that I made him go to bed at midnight, he woke up at six a.m. to go to his computers again. Weird kid.
“Morning,” I mumbled before I fell into a chair next to him. He just nodded. The coffee mug that was steaming in front of him made my mouth water.
“Sam sent something,” he said, and that made me jump wide awake.
“What? What did he send?” It had been long enough.
“It’s some kind of a blueprint, only with names and stuff…wait,” Kyle said.
I watched him press something on his keyboard before another noise went on under our table. I’d had no idea we had a small printer down there.
“Hey,” Aaron’s voice came from behind us. My gut turned just like it did every time my ears heard his voice. I filled my lungs with air and ignored the chills down my spine. We both mumbled a hi, and I concentrated on the freshly printed document .
It was a blueprint. It was the blueprint of the hotel where the SKO would meet, and on it, every single name of who was going to participate was written in small squares that were supposed to be chairs. But what surprised me the most were the names in the front. The first four names. There was Wells, Thornton, Drean and a warlock. A warlock whose power was to produce wind and sound so strong, it could make a hurricane look like a summer breeze. A warlock I’d seen twice in my life, sitting right next to Samayan.
Ned Murdock.
Ned was probably the youngest Council member. They said Samayan trusted him for some reason that no one knew. He’d helped him put to ground entire villages of humans and of sups, and at one time I’d admired him. He really was gorgeous with that I know how you feel, but you’re better off if you stay away from me look about him. The same look that every girl fell for.
Kai once said that Ned worshiped the ground Samayan walked on and would do anything for him. Couldn’t imagine why the hell he would be a part of the SKO if that were the case.
The paper had everything on it: the exact place, time, the exact look from inside and outside the room. But the thought that we were going to head there in twenty-four hours left me uneasy.
I still felt like we didn’t have enough proof. I had the files from Adele and Edison’s shifter that was going to testify and of course, Arturo, too. I also had a perfect drawing of the mark on the victims’ shoulders. The one I was now a hundred percent sure belonged to Vladimir.
Time had come to get the other witness.
I jumped off my seat and headed for the door, and Aaron followed. I checked just to make sure that Audrey hadn’t mysteriously appeared by his side like she always tended to do. Thankfully, he was alone.
I could feel his eyes on my face from my side, but I didn’t bother to acknowledge him by turning. Good thing he didn’t know how I wanted to kick his ass and undress him at the same time because I wasn’t sure how he would feel about that.
When we reached the cells, two shifter guards stood at both corners dressed in all black and holding big firearms in their hands. By the end of the hall, I could already feel the energy of Horatio and the shifter. I opened the iron door with a push and the stench from inside made me dizzy. It smelled like rotten food and chemicals mixed with herbs. Nasty.
The room was wide and spacious. Horatio was wearing a blue robe and was writing something in a file. The small round glasses above the tip of his nose made him look older. In front of him on a table made of metal stood a couple of flasks and needles with stuff in them, stuff I really didn’t want to try on. What made me stop and stare was the chair that was standing right next to him.
It was completely made of steel, and it was packed! It made the chairs in Lyndor look like toys for little girls. It had that rusted metal color, and it smelled freshly built. It had cuffs for neck, shoulders, torso, arms, hands, thighs, knees and feet. I walked to it, completely amazed, and touched it with the tips of my fingers. The legs were rooted in the concrete floor, too. It was just the type of chair I had imagined when I thought about torturing Samayan.
“Who made this beauty?” I asked no one in particular in a whisper while I still analyzed the chair.
“That would be me,” Horatio said. He stood in front of me with his arms crossed, smiling a goofy smile, beaming with pride.
“Nice work, old man. I didn’t know you had it in you.” I patted his shoulder, and we both took a few more seconds to appreciate the view in front of us.
“Good thing someone…” Horatio said and turned to look at Aaron who didn’t look like he was very excited about the awesome chair, “can appreciate a job well done.”
“What are you talking about? This chair’s awesome! Everyone can appreciate it,” I said, pointing at it with both my hands before I turned to look at Aaron. He raised his brow and shook his head, the disapproval clear on his face. “What?”
“This is what we’re fighting against,” he said and walked ahead to the other part of the room. The cell.
The small concrete room on the wall was closed with thick iron bars. Inside, the shifter was lying on his back, either asleep or unconscious. Probably the latter. I rested my elbows on the iron bars next to Aaron, and I felt the shifter’s energy. Judging from his vibe, he was completely cleaned of the potion,. No naughty blue, steamy thing around his energy.
“What do we have on him?” I asked the guys.
“Evan Orton, born in Manchester, England. Forty-one years old. Has been with the Council since he came to the States, nine years ago,” Aaron said in one breath.
“I’ve found something, too,” Horatio whispered from behind us. He was looki
ng at a bunch of files in his hands, and both his grey brows were raised high on his wrinkly forehead.
“What?” Aaron asked him.
“It seems that the potion leaves some serious…side effects on supernaturals,” he said, seeming surprised himself.
“What does that mean?” Aaron and I asked almost at the same time.
“It’s shocking, really,” Horatio said, never looking away from the files in his hands. “I’ve kept him in my lab all night and checked everything from his blood pressure, to his heart rate and his brain waves. I don’t know how long his condition will last but…” Horatio continued and then went on to scratch something off the files with his pen.
“What condition?” I urged.
Horatio took the time to write something else on a piece of paper before he dropped the files on the table and took one of the syringes with a clear pale green liquid inside.
“His organs work just fine, but they age zero-point-nine percent faster than a normal shifter’s organs. The major problem is his brain. It isn’t producing enough dopamine,” he finished with his hand on his chin and a frown on his face like we were supposed to get it.
I looked at Aaron, but he didn’t look like he got it, either.
“What the hell is that?” I blurted.
Horatio, who actually seemed surprised that we didn’t know what dopamine was, stopped in front of us with the syringe still in his hand.
“Dopamine is a substance that the brain produces. It sends signals to nerve cells, something like a messenger. When the brain produces a lower or higher amount of dopamine, it causes numerous diseases. Incurable ones. In the case of Mr. Evan here, I can’t tell what the symptoms will be before he wakes up, but it can be anything from body tremor to Parkinson’s disease. And because of the loss, the body can't produce enough antibodies to fight the human disease, though he’s a shifter,” Horatio explained.
The way I understood it was that the potion basically turned supernaturals to human.
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
I opened the door to Evan’s cell. Aaron helped me, and we carried him together to sit him on the awesome chair. He didn’t let me cuff his neck, just his hands and his feet.
Horatio put the sharp needle in the shifter’s neck and emptied the liquid inside of him. I shivered. I could take swords and knives all day long, but needles terrified me.
“This is to make sure that he cannot change, in case he wants to. In case he even can,” Horatio said.
I slapped the shifter. His head flew to the other side, but his eyelids only twitched a little. I had to slap him two more times before he finally started to open them.
“Wakey, wakey, Evan. Time to wake up. Come on,” I repeated. I sat on the white chair Aaron offered me and waited until the shifter was fully awake.
He seemed lost at first, with no idea where he was, and he kept looking from Aaron, who was behind me, to Horatio who was behind him, ready to take notes with a notepad and a pen in his hands, and me.
“Remember me?” I asked him, grinning. He moved his hands and feet, but the iron shackles were firmly installed and he had no chance getting out of them. “Hey!” I said, hitting him on the cheek again to make him stop moving. “Look at me, Evan. Look at me.” I pointed at my face.
He seemed angry and confused, and of course, scared as hell to be there. I couldn’t blame him. He was in the heart of enemy territory.
“You won’t need to be sitting here for long. I just need you to answer some questions for me, okay?” I said.
“Where am I?” he murmured.
“You’re with the Red Rebels. Like I said, I just need some answers from you, and you’ll be unchained.”
“I don’t know anything,” he said through his clenched teeth, and his head twitched to the side in a blur. That seemed to get Horatio’s interest, and he scribbled something on his notepad.
“I haven’t asked you anything yet,” I said, smiling lightly.
“There’s no need to get violent, Evan,” Aaron said from behind me, but his tone insinuated that he was talking to me. He was telling me to take it slow. Like hell I will. “Just tell us what you know, and that’ll be that.”
I didn’t even turn to look at Aaron. I felt bad for Evan, but I didn’t have the time, patience or nerve to sit around all day and wait. I hated torture as much as Aaron probably did, but I wasn’t about to lose valuable information because I didn’t have the heart to play dirty. The Council definitely wouldn’t mind getting their hands dirty, and that was going to bring them victory if we weren’t ready to do the same.
“When was the first time that you were given the potion?” I asked Evan, and I was more than ready for his answer.
For a second, surprise registered on his face. Then came the confusion. Interesting.
“When was the first time you took the potion?” I said again, this time speaking more slowly.
“What potion?” Evan asked with confusion.
“The potion? The one that the Council is using to control people’s minds?” I tried, but the guy seemed lost. He looked like he had no idea. “Do you know about the potion that will be launched on humans in just a couple of weeks’ time?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
I kept his eyes for a few seconds before he looked away. I turned around to look at Aaron, who so far had known exactly when people were lying. He had a weird, suspicious look on his handsome face, and his hand was wrapped around his chin as his eyes analyzed Evan’s face. Seconds after, he met my eyes and shrugged.
“Can’t tell with certainty.” He sounded as disappointed as I was.
I nodded. It was fine. I just had to trust my instincts like I’d always done before I met Aaron.
“You don’t know that you have been given a probably regular dose of the potion?” I asked Evan again.
He just shook his head but had no expression on his face. His head twitched to the side again.
“Tell me, what were you told that you were preparing for?”
“War,” Evan said in a whisper, looking everywhere but at me.
“War with who?”
“The Red Rebels,” he spit dryly, and this time he met my eyes. I detected a small hint of a British accent in his last word.
I smiled evilly. “Why?”
He just turned his head to the other side. My patience was already running thin, so I didn’t wait. I took his face in my hands and made him look at me.
“Why?” I whispered against his face.
He tried to move his head away, but I had a firm grip on his jaw and I kept him there. He looked at me for another second before he whispered: “You want to take over the Council.”
“Real rich,” I spit and pushed his head back. They were preparing for war, and the army didn’t even know why. Poor bastards. No wonder Samayan was keeping them locked separately.
“I want to know where you are training and exactly how many of you there are.” But Evan shook his head and looked aside. “You know there are other ways to make you talk, right?” I asked impatiently.
He didn’t look at me or say anything. He just kept staring at the floor.
I slammed my fists down on the chair’s armrests. I really, really didn’t want to torture him, but I also couldn’t let him hide such important stuff from us. For a second, all the times McGraw made me watch sups being tortured in Lyndor came back to me.
“Just tell us, Evan, and you’ll be free when this is over. I give you my word,” Aaron said, realizing that the tension in my body was not a good sign. I was still hearing screams in my head, screams I never wanted to hear again.
But the shifter didn’t even flinch. I leaned forward again.
“Do you know that they used a brain-controlling potion to make you obey every single thing they say, even against your will? Do you know that your precious Council is about to manipulate all the humans in the world and that Samayan has already started doing so with supernaturals?!” I shouted i
n his face.
Evan leaned back in the chair but didn’t look up at me. His jaw worked and his teeth clenched. He knew I had no reason to lie, and he knew that something was wrong with him. The lost look in his eyes showed it. And he still wasn’t ready to talk. That just pissed me off endlessly.
“All right!” I jumped to my feet. I pushed the chair away with my foot. “We’ll do this your way,” I said, smiling my evil smile because I knew that he was watching me from the corner of his eye.
I reached for the back of my yoga pants and pulled out the small pliers that fit perfectly in my palm. I always kept them with me because they did wonders for reaching into small things. In that moment, everything that had happened from the second I found out that Mom wasn’t my mother was pressuring my head, and I didn’t want to even try and hit him or kick him. I wanted to get it over with by just scaring him. Maybe he would talk before I had to cause him pain unnecessarily. I showed him my small iron pliers.
“Did you know, Evan, that one of the worst tortures known to men is when someone detaches your nails from your fingers?”
I was still smiling despite the nausea inside of me. That made Evan turn to look at me and then at the pliers in my hand in terror. I took a small knife from my jacket and touched metal to metal to make a screeching, clinging sound.
“See, they say it hurts so much that you drop unconscious the second your brain starts to register the pain,” I went on. “But I’ve never tried it firsthand, so I thought I’d use this occasion to teach myself a thing or two about it.”
The image of a nail tearing from his finger brought bile in my mouth. I felt like I wanted to rip my insides with my own hands. Even Horatio was horrified as he looked at me. I apologized mentally to all three of them, but I didn’t expect them to understand. I knew it had to be done because time was running out, and we needed what Evan could give us. I’d rather they hated me than that they died.
So I played on, and I prayed with everything inside of me, every feeling and every thought that he would get scared enough to stop me before I started.