Mustafa’s eyes softened, and he tilted his head. “Your spirit is impressive.”
“Thanks.” Asshole.
“You have impeccable manners, too.” He lifted one finger. “But spirit and social graces will not change your father’s fate if he doesn’t cooperate. Make sure that he does.”
Vivi felt nauseated. “Will I get to see him?”
“That is up to you. And your father.”
“But, sir, I don’t understand what’s going on. Why am I here?”
Mustafa rested his hands on the table. “Your DNA is remarkable. It will set me free. No more red light. No more darkness. Bram and I shall walk in the noon sun.”
Just keep him talking, Vivi thought. “Why can’t you go in daylight?”
“Immortals are photosensitive because of an inborn error of metabolism and mast cells,” he said. “An overproduction of IgE and mast cells cause us to be photoreactive. You see, in vampires, these molecules are concentrated at a level five million times that of humans. They are deposited just under the skin. When sunlight touches a vampire’s skin, the reaction is blistering. And finally death.”
It couldn’t come soon enough for him, Vivi thought.
“I am tired.” Lines cut across Mustafa’s forehead. “Vivienne, I will say good night to you and Bram. Fadime, take them to the dormitory.”
She ached to cry, but she forced herself to take little sips of air. She gripped the ferret, then sucked in as much air as her lungs would hold. She felt pressure build behind her eyes and nose. Then she hurled an Inductive thought.
MUSTAFA, DON’T LEAVE!
She held her breath until her throat ached.
Mustafa groaned, and the back of his head smacked against his throne. She hadn’t meant to zap him that hard, but it was too late to call it back. Perspiration dotted his bald head, and his skin was ashy. He lifted a blood-drenched sleeve and turned to Fadime. “Will you fetch Dr. Hazan? Something is wrong with my IV.”
Vivi exhaled, then cast a furtive glance around the dining hall. She could hear the soldiers in the other chamber. Could she get past them? How could she find Jude? She had a sudden vision of herself dying in this red place.
No, I’m not going down without a fight. She tucked Bram inside her scrubs so he wouldn’t get loose. It wasn’t the ferret’s fault that his master was a ogre. She didn’t think the soldiers would be unaffected by the sight of blood, but maybe it would be different if the blood was coming out of their own bodies. At least, that was what had happened at Sabine’s farmhouse.
Samin glided out of the shadows, toward Mustafa’s throne, and said something in Turkish.
Vivi lowered her chin, focused on Samin’s red hair, and inhaled.
Samin, go away. Leave Mustafa alone.
Vivi felt a hot, snapping current move out of her. Samin’s eyes squinched up. He clapped his hand over his ear. Then he fell to his knees and rocked back and forth.
Mustafa was wrapping napkins around his IV site. Red patches instantly bloomed on the paper. Vivi took a breath. She tossed out a small, heated wave at him.
Mustafa, you are sleepy.
Vivi stared at the old Turk, waiting. A red ribbon flew out of his sleeve and spattered on the paisley robe. His eyelids fell, and he slumped down in his chair.
Dr. Hazan rushed into the room, pushing an empty wheelchair. His eyes wobbled as he looked at Mustafa and the red-haired guard. Then he turned his gaze on Vivi.
“What is going on?” he cried. “What have you done?”
She shrugged. Dr. Hazan dragged Mustafa into the wheelchair. A man in a white coat ran up, his black beard churning around his face.
Vivi lashed out at him. Leave us!
A red bubble grew out of the bearded man’s right nostril. He sat down hard.
Vivi kept holding her breath until the man keeled over, blood streaming into the Persian rug. Dr. Hazan was struggling to pull Mustafa into the chair.
“Help me,” he yelled at Vivi.
Go to sleep.
The doctor’s eyelids fluttered, and then he fell on top of Samin.
Vivi leaped out of her chair and ran through the archway. She didn’t see Fadime. When she reached the buffet tables, she paused. The soldiers stopped eating and turned. Vivi counted twelve heads.
It’s me or them. They had guns; she only had herself.
She cupped a protective hand over Bram, who was shivering. Then she faced the soldiers. She focused on her respirations, then hit them as hard as she could.
Go to sleep.
A swirling force tore away from her body. Three men toppled out of their booth. A moment later, a fourth slumped to the floor. A fifth man got out of a booth, then sank to the floor.
Go to sleep.
The sixth man fell face first into a plate of hummus. The seventh, eighth, and ninth sprawled across the table, their hands knocking over beer mugs. The tenth, eleventh, and twelfth began to slump.
Go to sleep.
Vivi kept sending out pulses until the last three men fell. She had never seen so much blood. She hadn’t meant to do that. A coppery stink rushed up her nose, and she thought she might be sick.
Don’t pity them, Vivi, she told herself. Those men were employed by Mustafa. That meant they’d been paid to lose their ethics. Maybe one of them had shot Lena.
She ran out of the banquet hall, turned into the elevator, and punched the button for Level 3. Bram was squirming inside her scrub shirt. She had to put him in a safe place. But where?
Before the doors opened all the way, she punched the emergency stop button, then hurried to the glassed-in room. A dark-haired man sat in front of a computer monitor, playing solitaire.
He turned, frowning. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry,” Vivi whispered. She held her breath.
You’re paralyzed.
As he fell, his chin hit the desk. Blood flew out of his mouth and splashed across the keyboard. The back of his head banged against the floor.
She opened a drawer and set Bram inside. She had no idea if Induction worked on animals, but if she kept him with her, he’d die. She breathed in and out, then sent him a little pulse.
Bram, you’re tired.
The ferret yawned, then curled up, wrapping his tail around his face. Vivi bent down, making sure he was breathing. He was. She pulled off her paper slippers, tucked them around the ferret, then gently closed the drawer, leaving a gap for fresh air.
Vivi brushed tears from her cheeks. This was bad. This was evil. But Mustafa had stolen her dad. He’d stolen her. She squatted beside the dark-haired vampire and yanked off his laminated ID card. A key chain was clamped on his belt. She pulled it off—two keys, one large, one small.
Focus, Vivi. How long before someone figured out what she was doing? They’d come down here with guns. She couldn’t make them all bleed. Her head was already throbbing, as if she’d hurt something inside her own brain. But she might have time to release the bats. Jude said they could take down the compound.
Hurry, hurry, hurry. She raced out of the room, into the stairwell, then pushed back the door and kicked down the metal stopper. She ran up to the next floor, unlocked the door, and propped it open. Her pulse thumped in her ears as she looked into the hall. It was cold and empty.
She raced up to the main level and went to the door. She stood on her toes and looked through the chicken-wire glass. Two soldiers rushed toward the banquet hall. She unlocked the door, braced it open, then sped back down to Level 3.
She was a sweaty mess by the time she reached the bottom floor. Then she ran toward the bat chamber, swiping the ID card at each junction.
The giant metal doors rumbled open. Beside them, a message floated up on the security panel.
Close doors? Yes No
She punched No.
Then she ran into the tunnel. A small control room was on the left. The desks were empty. A layer of dust covered the computer monitors. Across the room, she saw a rounded door, like airpla
nes have.
If this was the airlock, how was she supposed to open it? Maybe she should get Jude. He’d know what to do. No, the soldiers would come. She had to release the bats. She walked up to the airlock. Beside the door was a panel. A red light was glowing, and just beneath it was a large black button.
She pressed it, and the light turned green. She heard a hissing noise, and the door opened. Her ears stopped up as she stepped into a small, metal tunnel. It had a door at the other end. In between, heavy uniforms and helmets hung on the walls.
She tugged a helmet over her head—yikes, it was big. Her breath steamed against the Plexiglas. She walked toward the door. Her fist slammed down on the black knob, and the door opened with a whoosh.
A fetid odor rolled out of the bat chamber. She smelled guano and decayed flesh. From somewhere above her, near the wire ceiling, she heard clicks. If she could Induce a ferret, could she Induce a bat? If the bats killed her, it would be worth it. Mustafa wouldn’t get her damn blood.
She looked at the ceiling, where the hulking shapes were beginning to stir. She filled her lungs with the nasty air, then slowly exhaled.
FLY AWAY.
It was sweltering inside the helmet. Perspiration ran down her cheeks. The air above her began to move.
You’re free. All of you. Fly away. Go up the stairs.
Like a bat would know what stairs were. This wasn’t going to work. She exhaled, and the mask fogged. This was crazy. She couldn’t herd bats.
Above her, a whirring noise started up. She raced back into the airlock, propped open the door to the control room, and slid under the desk, banging her helmet against the wood.
Black shapes flew out the door and veered into the hall, whirring past the windows, streaking through the red air. There were so many of them! The smaller bats flew after the adults, their echolocation clicks streaking through the air like bullets.
Vivi waited a few minutes. Then she crawled out from under the desk, threw the helmet away, and hurried out of the room. She ran past the windows of the bat chamber. She ran toward the lab, using the ID card to open the doors. When she reached Jude’s lab, she started yelling. “Open up!”
The door opened and he stared up at her. “What’s going on?” An alarm started blaring, the high-pitched sound slicing through the air. A disembodied voice said, “Level Three, security breach. Evacuate the compound in an orderly manner.”
“We’ve got to hurry,” she said. “The bats are loose.”
His eyes blinked open wide. “Oh, my God.”
The alarm kept bleating. Vivi got behind the wheelchair and pushed Jude out of the lab. On their way to the main control room, she told him what she’d done.
She parked his chair in the hall. “I’ll be right back.”
The dark-haired vampire staggered out of the room, dabbing his nose with a Kleenex. “Whew, did you see the bats?” he said. “Jesus Christ, the smell. Dr. Barrett? You shouldn’t be here.”
“You’re bleeding,” Jude said.
“I don’t know what happened,” the guy said. “I think a fucking bat hit me from behind. Hey, you really shouldn’t be here. And what’s the girl doing out of her—”
Vivi looked down at his ID tag. His name was beneath his photo. Timmy Price, Technician. She sucked in a breath, then punched out a command. Because that was what it felt like. As if she could control everything and everyone around her.
Timmy Price, shut up.
His lips clamped shut. Then they opened.
She sent out another pulse.
Timmy Price, take a nap. A long nap.
He crumpled to the ground. Vivi stepped around him and hurried into the room. She opened the drawer and lifted Bram. He yawned, showing his pink mouth. She ran back to Jude.
“Hold the ferret,” she told him.
“Uh, okay.” Jude tucked the animal inside his scrub shirt. “How did you get Bram?”
“We’ve got years to talk,” she said.
Her father’s ponytail jerked when Vivi pushed his chair toward the elevator. They got in, and she hit the top button. As they passed the second level, and she heard gunfire. Jude looked up at her.
“I hope this works, Meep. If we don’t make it, I want you to know something. I love you.”
She nodded, holding back tears. The elevator doors skidded open. Vivi stepped around the wheelchair and peered into the hall. She didn’t see any bats, but she could tell they’d been here. Blood was splattered on the floor and walls.
Gunfire echoed in the distance.
She darted back into the elevator car, grabbed the handles of Jude’s chair, and pushed him into the hall. A boom sounded, and the floor wobbled.
“Jude, where’s the closest exit?”
He pointed right. “Down that corridor.”
They rounded a corner. A man lay face down by the water cooler, blood spilling toward his outstretched hand. His fingers curled around a Glock. The back of his skull had been torn off, and his brains glistened in the red light. Vivi felt sick, but she let go of Jude’s chair, tiptoed around the pooled blood, and lifted the Glock.
She gave it to Jude, got behind his chair, and steered him down the corridor. At the far end, a tall metal door swung open, dangling from its hinges. Beyond the veranda, the night sky spun out, jammed with stars. She pushed her dad through the doorway onto a wooden veranda.
What now? She’d gotten them out of the building, but how could they leave the compound? Dammit. She walked to the edge of the veranda. Three bodies lay in the gravel road, and a dark, shining stream ran between them.
Jude pointed to a yellow Hummer that was parked at an angle. “If you can get me to the Hummer, I can drive.”
She stared, uncomprehending.
“There’s no time to explain,” he said. “Just help me walk to the Hummer.”
Walk? The poor guy had lost his grip on reality. But they still had to get to the vehicle. She pushed his chair to the edge of the veranda. “What about the gates?” she asked.
Behind her, she heard a gasp. Then a musical voice said, “Girl!”
She turned slowly, expecting to see Mustafa, but it was Fadime. His cheek was gashed, and blood streamed down the side of his face. He shuffled to the wheelchair and pointed a gun at the back of Jude’s head.
Vivi’s nostrils flared, and she tugged in a breath. Oh, what if she accidentally Induced Jude? Or hurt Bram?
“Put your face on the floor!” Fadime yelled at her. “Move it.”
Jude reached around and grabbed the soldier’s hand. The bone snapped. Fadime screamed, and his gun clattered to the veranda.
“Grab that forty-five,” Jude said.
She scrambled over to the gun and snatched it.
The little Turk got to his knees, his eyes glowering, cradling his arm. A bone jutted up through the flesh, and dark blood streamed down.
“Don’t move, Fadime,” Jude said, aiming the Glock. “I don’t want to kill you in front of my daughter.”
Fadime’s lips drew back, showing his teeth. “Shoot me, cripple.”
“Look away, Meep.”
But she didn’t.
Jude squeezed the trigger. Fadime’s head kicked back and he thudded to the veranda.
Down the road, toward the security checkpoint, a fireball exploded, and flames rolled up into the darkness, sparks arcing in all directions. The veranda trembled, then went still.
Above them the air began to roar. Three lights cut across the dark sky. Helicopters? Vivi’s heart began to pound. “More soldiers!”
“We’ll be ready for them, Meep. Get behind my chair.”
Vivi pointed at the sky. “Look. Those are Raphael’s helicopters.”
Each door was stamped with DELLA ROCCA, LTD.
Vivi’s eyes brimmed. She crouched beside Jude’s chair and reached for his hand. She was going home to her mom. And she was bringing her dad with her.
Daylight spilled over the compound, casting a pink glow over the helicopters. One of Raphael�
�s men came to the door. He wore tactical gear and combat boots. His light brown hair was combed straight back.
“Vivi, your dad wants you.”
She followed him inside the building, past the blood-splattered walls, into the dining hall. Mustafa was strapped to a gurney, and Jude sat beside him, adjusting the tubing of an IV machine.
“Are you ready for daylight?” he asked Mustafa.
Mustafa gritted his teeth, his face turning red.
Jude rose slightly from his chair and stabbed the needle into a rubber stopper of a small IV bag. The tubing looped across the cot into Mustafa’s arm.
The Turk wrenched from side to side, trying to loosen the restraints.
“You wanted to walk in sunlight,” Jude said. “Now you will. I adjusted the dose, by the way. So you’ll have maybe five minutes before you fry.”
Mustafa arched his back. Tears streamed down the sides of his face.
Vivi sat on the floor, petting Bram. He wrapped his paws around her wrist. “I’ll take good care of the ferret,” she said.
“You little bitch,” Mustafa said.
Jude punched Mustafa in the mouth. A tooth flew out and clattered to the floor. Dark, smelly blood ran down the Turk’s bottom lip.
Vivi felt a little trembly inside, as if she might fly apart. Had she become like Mustafa? Was her life more important than his? Maybe the difference was, she felt remorse. She didn’t want to be the kind of person who hurt others. But she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life hiding, either.
Signore Dolfini, Raphael’s head security guy, walked up. “Are you ready, Dr. Barrett?”
“Yes.” Jude turned back to Mustafa and examined the intravenous bag. It was almost empty.
Mustafa’s lip curled. “Long after I am dead, you will still be a cripple.”
Holding his gaze on the Turk, Jude braced his hands on his chair and rose.
Mustafa’s face knotted. His mouth looked rubbery as he shaped and reshaped his lips.
“Jude!” Vivi scrambled to her feet.
He put his arm around her and turned to Signore Dolfini. “Will you please move this piece of trash to the lawn?”
“My pleasure,” Dolfini said.
As Raphael’s men pushed Mustafa’s cot into the hall, Jude sank down into the chair. Vivi put the ferret in his lap.
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