Dark Becoming (An Ema Marx Novel Book 3)

Home > Other > Dark Becoming (An Ema Marx Novel Book 3) > Page 17
Dark Becoming (An Ema Marx Novel Book 3) Page 17

by J. D. Brown


  Five-hundred bolts of electricity lit that son-of-a-bitch like a Christmas tree. I pushed against the hilt of the gun, adding force to the projectile to make sure he landed behind me. Letting go of the gun, I rolled out from under him, stood, and turned just in time to watch his undead ass land with a loud thump against the sticky floor. The electricity kept him paralyzed, but he was far from dead. I could fix that. Walking toward him, I unsheathed my dagger and then plunged the blade into his neck.

  I didn’t know how much blood loss was required to kill an undead, so I sawed the dagger all the way through his flesh and bone, until his head rolled off. Better safe than sorry.

  My hands trembled as I stood upright and scanned the darkness. “Anyone else in here?”

  A soft moan came from the end of the room. “I didn’t think you’d survive that.”

  “Helldora? This is Bridget de Lupe, Elite. Naamah ta Korento sent me to retrieve you. Are you hurt?”

  “Hurt?” She scoffed. “I’m dying.”

  Panic spiked the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I lifted my hands and searched the darkness until I felt the Plexiglas walls of the jail cells. I followed them to the last cell in the back. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you to medical attention. Zee power’s out. You can phase through, or I can break down the door.”

  “No time, child. I was… poisoned. I don’t have long. I must tell you…”

  “Poisoned? Have you tried retching?” I squinted, looking for her. She coughed and I noticed movement in the back corner of the cell. Her inky silhouette was curled on the floor, shaking.

  “Injection,” she wheezed. “I can… I can feel it killing me. Not much longer now.”

  That asshole injected poison straight into her veins? I ran my palms over the Plexiglas until I found the lock on the cell door. I took a step back, aimed blindly for a spot near the lock, and then kicked my heel against the glass. The cells were bulletproof, so it took several tries before the glass cracked.

  “Please,” Helldora sighed. “Just listen. The ring. You have to get the ring. Deposit box one-three-one in the REDNNB.”

  “What? A ring? What ring?” I furrowed my brow. I didn’t have time go hunting for a lost heirloom.

  “Apollyon’s… ring. That’s why he locked me in here and tortured me. If he doesn’t find it soon, he’s going make a new one.”

  “Wait, are you talking about his philosopher’s stone?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t destroy it? It still exists?”

  “You’ll find it, won’t you? You must… you must…” Her voice trailed off.

  Oh shit. “Hey, hold on. You’re going to be okay, just hold on.”

  I kicked the Plexiglas again and again, until the panel finally gave and my foot went through, hitting the fencing underneath. I removed my foot and then forced my hand into the jagged hole. Sharp metal wires grazed my fingers and palm as I searched for the softer electrical cables of the lock. I located them, grabbed a hold, and yanked them out. Sparks flew, unleashing the last bit of juice, and then the bolt unlocked.

  I flung the door open and dashed toward the corner where Helldora lay. In the pitch-black darkness, I didn’t see the moisture slicking the floor. My feet slid out from under me and my butt landed in a puddle of something too thick to be water. That’s when the scent finally managed to rise over the pungent order of the undead guard.

  Blood.

  A ton of it.

  I pushed to my knees and crawled the last half-meter to Helldora’s body. “Hey! Hey, wake up. Come on, we’re going home to your husband and kids. You want to see them again, right?”

  Her chest rose in a shallow intake of breath. “Escudo de Veraguas.”

  “What? Who’s Escudo de Veraguas?”

  No answer.

  Damn it!

  I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her forward. Her head bobbed, completely lifeless. “Helldora, wake up!”

  I listened for her pulse, but none came.

  Son-of-a-bitch. She was gone. Naamah sent me too late. He couldn’t have known Apollyon would poison her. Naamah probably assumed Apollyon would cut her, make her suffer, but she’d heal just like the rest of us. I guess Apollyon lost his temper. Maybe he was getting desperate. Or maybe he already made a new ring and didn’t need Helldora anymore.

  I had to call Naamah and tell him what happened. I contemplated bringing Helldora’s body home, and then scoffed. I couldn’t travel with a dead body and not end up on the five o’clock news. Besides, Svalbard was Neo-Draugrian territory. Local authorities could pick her up and deliver her to her family.

  Shit, I felt horrible for her kids and grandchildren. The Council would mourn the loss of an elder. I need to call Naamah now. I left the basement and climbed the stairwell to the top floor. Moonlight from the main entrance cast a milky radiance over my soaked legs and hands. I blinked to adjust to the bright light, and then saw that I had been correct. Blood drenched my pants and stained my fingers. Thank goodness I couldn’t see Helldora. Who knows how long she’d been lying in a pool of her own fluids? I didn’t want to know what other fucked-up things Apollyon did to her.

  My skin crawled just thinking about it. I stripped off my clothes, needing to cleanse myself of the brutal death, and left them where they fell in the reception area—weapons and all. I am so done with this shit. This death wasn’t my doing, but it still made me sick to my stomach. I would welcome a boring desk job.

  I shifted into a falcon and flew out of the compound, going to the roof, where I’d left my bag. I shifted back into myself, found my cellphone in the messenger bag, and dialed Naamah’s number.

  The phone trilled on the other end while I hugged myself and shivered against the elements. Helldora’s last words came to mind. Most people in my line of work uttered cryptic meaningless babble when they died, but Helldora’s final words were specific. Get the ring. Deposit box one-three-one in the REDNNB. I knew the acronym. Reclusive Eternal Dragons Norwegian National Bank. The R.E.D. had a bank in every country to keep our economy separate from the human one. Apparently, Helldora kept the ring in a safety deposit box there.

  Naamah answered on the third ring. “Hello? Bridget? Hello?”

  My lips trembled as I slowly focused on his voice. “She’s dead. Helldora is dead.”

  Naamah cursed in his native tongue. “Listen very carefully; did she say anything about a ring?”

  So that bastard did know what was going on. Why didn’t that surprise me? He and Maria were so made for each other. I bit my lip as a crazy idea formed in my mind. Hope shone through, and I latched on desperately.

  “Bridget? Did Helldora say anything to you?”

  “No,” I whispered. My breath rose in the cold night, a visible puff of lies.

  “No?” Naamah growled.

  I shook my head, knowing the idea was stupid and dangerous, but I decided to act on it anyway. After all, I had everything to gain and nothing to lose.

  “No,” I repeated, with more conviction. “Helldora was already dead when I found her.”

  Chapter 17

  Jesu’s conversation with Nikolas lasted all of two minutes. No ‘Hi, how are you, how’s your wife?’ No ‘Venice is lovely; I’ll send you a postcard.’ Just straight business.

  Men.

  Jesu hung up and pocketed the phone. “He’s wiring the money now.”

  We returned to the shabby MUSEO DEL CIRCO and knocked on the door. Shea answered, still wearing the shimmery nude leotard. She kept a passive expression as she moved aside to let us enter. We ascended the stairs and went to the back room without waiting for her. Inside, Hesiodos still stood in the center, as though he hadn’t moved a muscle during our absence. His expression was tight-lipped and I doubt our return gave him any comfort.

  “Well?” Lycaon demanded. He sat at his vanity, combing his chin-length curls.

  Jesu stepped forward. “The cash has been wired to this account. You can withdraw it whenever you like.” Jesu pulled a pen and
pad from his pocket, and scrawled the information on the top page. He peeled the page from the pad and placed it on the vanity.

  Lycaon grinned as he took the paper and fanned himself with it. “He’s all yours,” he said, with a slight jerk over his shoulder to indicate his protégé.

  I released a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. “Peachy. Let’s go.”

  “One moment.” Lycaon curled his lip in a snide smile and slowly looked at me. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Ema. I hope to learn more about you in the future. Perhaps over dinner?”

  I gagged at the thought. Jesu pressed his hand against the small of my back and urged me toward the door.

  “Maybe we will catch one of your performances,” Jesu said, then he nodded to Maria and she pushed Hesiodos forward.

  We entered the guys’ hotel room as the sun peeked over the horizon and doused the sky in florescent hues. Maria went to the glass sliding doors and yanked the drapes across the rod, cloaking the room in a more comfortable dimness.

  Running water sounded from the bathroom. Jesu tapped on the door and announced to Brinnon that we were back. The hint of chocolate tickled my nose, but I put it out of my mind and focused on the newest addition to the team. Hesiodos had packed an overnight bag. He clutched the leather case to his chest and stood in the center of the room, looking crestfallen at Maria’s satchel, where the spell book rested safely inside. He glanced at me for a moment, and then at Jesu. His mouth parted like he wanted to say something, but he hesitated and looked at Maria’s bag again.

  “You can begin,” Maria offered, “by translating the spell and making a list of the supplies you’ll need. While you do that, I’ll research which items we can buy locally, and which might have to be ordered from the mainland.”

  Hesiodos nodded in agreement.

  “Great,” I said. “If no one needs me, I think I’ll take a page from Brinnon and grab a shower next door.”

  “I will order dinner,” Jesu added. He rested a hand on Hesiodos’ shoulder. “You might as well settle in, friend.”

  The vampire hissed through his teeth. “Den eísai fílos mou.”

  The meaning of the foreign words was lost to me, but I caught Mara’s reprimanding glare. I turned away and went to the girls’ suite for a much-needed bath and thinking time. I ran the faucet, stripped, and then sat in the tub.

  Though I couldn’t feel the temperature, the rising water calmed my stomach and soothed my muscles. I leaned back and let my mind soak in the events of the day. Hesiodos obviously wanted nothing to do with the making of a philosopher’s stone, and I felt bad for buying him off like a slave, but I didn’t understand his reluctance exactly. Didn’t vampires always want to please their sires? Leena loved Jalmari and fought for him until the very end. Hesiodos must harbor some devotion for Lycaon. Maybe Hesiodos feared what we would do to Lycaon once we had the stone. He didn’t know us. He didn’t know our intentions. As much as I hated the idea of anyone losing their free will, I hoped Lycaon took full advantage of his sire status and ordered Hesiodos to try his best. I should have asked about that before we left Lycaon’s home.

  I washed and rinsed quickly, drained the water, and wrapped a towel around my torso, deciding that I would talk to Maria about it right away. Maybe we could get Lycaon to give the command over the phone.

  I opened the bathroom door and stepped out, only to halt in my tracks and gasp at the man standing in the living area. I composed myself and then glared daggers at Jesu.

  “You scared the crap out of me.”

  “Sorry,” Jesu chuckled, not the least bit convincing. He leaned his hip against the back of the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. A fancy food cart stood next to him. It took a moment for the sweet citrus scent of shampoo and soap to clear enough to notice the other scents in the room; sardines, salmon, and some kind of spicy sausage. There were other things too—rice and lentils and steamed vegetables—but the uncooked meat stuck out the most. My eyes widened in urgency as my feet raced back inside the bathroom. I lifted the toilet lid and retched into the bowl, watching as the cheese sandwich came up.

  “Thanks for that,” I said, as Jesu came inside. He gently pulled my limp wet hair away from my face as I spat into the porcelain. I couldn’t help glaring at him from the corner of my vision.

  Jesu winced in apology. “You need protein.”

  “So I’ve been told.” The nausea passed and I stood to brush my teeth. Jesu lingered, watching my reflection in the mirror. I never liked brushing my teeth in front of people, so I brushed quickly.

  “I can still smell it,” I said.

  “Because you still need to eat it.”

  I glared at his reflection in the mirror, but I was hungry. “Get rid of the sausage and the sardines. I’ll try the salmon.”

  He nodded and then ducked out of the bathroom. I listened as a metal tray clanked gently against the counter. Wheels squeaked as the cart was pushed outside. Sighing, I exited the bathroom and eyed the platter of food left in the kitchenette.

  Jesu came back in and closed the door. He stood next to me and then followed my line of sight to the plate. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Then you eat it.”

  He cringed. “I can order you a glass of blood instead.”

  “You have no idea how badly I want one, but it’s like the acid in my stomach has suddenly become repellent to the vampyre diet. My taste buds, on the other hand, didn’t get the memo.”

  Jesu turned to look at me—I was still wet and wearing a towel—and licked his lips. As if drawn by a gravitational force, his hands gripped my hips and he pulled me against him. He closed his eyes and leaned forward.

  In a miraculous feat of self-control, I managed to turn my head away and his lips touched my cheek. My heart pounded in my chest, already regretting the choice as he pulled back and furrowed his brow in a silent question.

  “I… thought you were mad at me,” I said, lamely.

  “I was, but I find it increasingly difficult to stay mad at you.”

  I winced. “Jesu… about the contract… I’m so—”

  He pressed his fingertip to my lips, silencing me. “We can talk about that another time. Get dressed. I have a surprise for you.”

  “What?”

  Jesu let his hands fall to his sides. He took a step back and smiled. “I will meet you in the hall in an hour. Wear something comfortable.” He nodded, as though pleased with himself, and then he left.

  I stood speechless for several minutes. Then my brow furrowed and I pouted. “But I hate surprises.”

  Chapter 18

  I ate a quarter of the salmon before it came back up and went for a swim in the toilet. After flushing and brushing my teeth for the umpteenth time, I tossed the rest of the fish in the trash and then ate the remaining rice and steamed vegetables. I waited a moment to make sure they stayed down. When my stomach gave the all clear, I went to my suitcase and dressed in jeans, a red T-shirt, and my beloved canvas sneakers. I pulled a brush through my hair and decided to let it air dry. I was too antsy to wait for Jesu in the hall, so I knocked on door 4B.

  Brinnon answered. “Hey, feeling better? That was the worst case of motion sickness I have ever seen.”

  I pursed my lips while entering the room. “Um, yeah. Much better now, thanks. Where’s Jesu?”

  “He went to the store to grab a couple of things.”

  “For the spell?”

  Brinnon snorted. “No. It’s going to take a while for them to get the code sorted.”

  Maria and Hesiodos sat on the couch with the spell book between them, pen and paper in hand. I approached Hesiodos and glanced over his shoulder. “How’s it going?”

  Maria answered without looking up from her notes. “Slow. There’s a lot more involved than I anticipated. We’re going to try to make a few modifications.”

  “How comes? Are the ingredients too exotic?”

  “Transmutation is tedious work,” Hesiodos said in a q
uiet voice. “Extracting an ion here, replacing it with an atom there. A fully functional philosopher’s stone would take months to create.”

  “Months?” I winced. “We only have three days.”

  “Hence the modifications,” said Maria while jotting down a note. “We’re going to make a more simplistic model.”

  “But a simpler model could malfunction.”

  “On the contrary,” said Hesiodos. “A simpler version would increase the probability of getting it right. The more power you want, the more complex the spell becomes.”

  “We only need it work once,” Maria added.

  I shook my head. “It needs to work twice. Always have a backup.” Maria lifted her gaze to mine. I held it. “You know how screwed we’ll be if something goes wrong.”

  She worked her jaw, then nodded. “You’re right. Hesiodos, make sure it will work twice.”

  The vampire rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue.

  The suite door opened and Jesu came inside, carrying a brown paper bag. He had changed clothes and looked very biker-chic in black jeans and a zip-up moto jacket. He noticed me and blushed slightly. For Jesu, that meant his pale blue undertones brightened to an azure color. My knees began to buckle. I casually steadied my hip against the couch armrest and nodded at the paper bag.

  “What’s that?”

  The hint of a smile curled his lips as he placed the bag on the counter. “I got you a couple of things.”

  “Oh?” I joined him in the kitchenette and then stretched onto my tiptoes, trying to peek inside the bag.

  Jesu reached in and pulled out a pair of red women’s wrap-around sunglasses—the kind skiers wore when they didn’t want to wear big goofy goggles. Jesu flipped the handles open and then set the glasses on the bridge on my nose.

  “My very own shades,” I said. “Did you miss your spare set?”

  “Keep them both, but this way you will have a pair that fit properly.”

 

‹ Prev