Nightshade (1)

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Nightshade (1) Page 12

by Michelle Rowen


  My life was over. I felt the truth of this deep inside me.

  Declan’s expression gave nothing away. He’d promised his father could help me. Had that been a lie to make me behave? Or had he really believed it was possible?

  Carson’s gaze flicked to Declan’s before returning to mine. “Jillian, I want to show you something. It’s very important that you come with me. Will you do that?”

  “Fine,” I said dully. I didn’t particularly care where he took me or what he wanted to show me. If it wouldn’t help, then what difference did it make?

  Death was coming for me. And I knew without a doubt it would come in the form of one of those attacks that made me spew out that darkness inside. I might not survive the next one.

  Carson’s hand pressed against my shoulder as he directed me out of the room and through a silver door leading to a long, brightly lit hallway.

  We passed through a door requiring a security code. Beyond the door came the sound of pounding and muffled screeching that made my skin crawl. There was a small window on the door, but it was dark inside.

  “What the hell is that?” I asked, tensing up automatically.

  Carson looked at the door with distaste. “Some of Dr. Gray’s research has included crossbreeding between vampires and humans.”

  “Dhampyrs. Like Declan.”

  “Not all dhampyrs created are like Declan. In fact, his type of dhampyr is very rare. There are others that are much more common.”

  I shivered. “Are you trying to tell me that’s another dhampyr in there?”

  “It is. However, while Declan is more human than monster, that is more monster than human. More monster than even vampire. Very dangerous.”

  “And that’s what you wanted to show me?”

  He shook his head. “No. You don’t have to worry about what’s in that room, trust me.”

  I staggered along after him, trying to imagine just what was making those horrible sounds that made me shudder. A monster. A literal monster.

  I looked over my shoulder at Declan but nothing in his expression belied his thoughts. Or even if he was having any thoughts.

  Was he afraid that he’d become like the creature in that room if he didn’t take his serum right on schedule? Or why he’d mentioned another serum being developed that would last much longer than only three hours?

  Of course that’s what he was afraid of. And that he was desperate not to let the monster inside of him off its leash so he wouldn’t hurt anyone, even at the detriment to his own quality of life ... well, that was admirable, I guess.

  Frustrating, but admirable.

  “I want you to meet somebody, Jillian,” Carson said.

  “You really think this is necessary?” Declan asked.

  Carson turned sharply. “Yes, I do.”

  “Who am I meeting?” I asked without much interest.

  “Someone who might help give specific insight to your current condition.” Carson pushed open a door leading into a room with a table and two chairs in the middle of it. A man sat there and looked over at us.

  “Tobias, this is Jillian,” Carson said. “Please, Jillian, if you will ...”

  I stepped into the room at his urging. The man looked a little like my tenth-grade English teacher: slight in stature, balding blond hair, otherwise pleasant in appearance. He wore a tan-colored suit that looked a bit wrinkled.

  “She’s the one you said would help me get out of here?” Tobias asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “But I thought you said—” I began, but Carson shut the door. It felt like a replay of last night with Declan locking me into the bedroom. So much so that I tried the handle of the door.

  And just like last night, it was locked.

  “What the hell?” I said out loud, then looked at Tobias. “What’s going on here?”

  “I’m not sure.” He stood and crossed his arms, looking nervously around the room.

  “Who are you?”

  “Just somebody minding my own damn business when this guy ... he came out of nowhere and grabbed me. Beat me. Tied me up. The next thing I know, here I am and nobody’s giving me any damn answers.”

  I didn’t like this one bit.

  “You don’t look like you’ve been beaten up,” I said.

  He touched his face. “You should have been there. The guy was scary. He didn’t have to lay a finger on me; I would have done whatever he said. But he liked to use his fists.”

  “What did he look like?” I asked, although I had a feeling I already knew the answer.

  “Tall, big. Lots of scars. Wore an eye patch.”

  What the hell was going on here? Why was Declan kidnapping more innocent people and dragging them here against their will?

  Feeling tense, I scanned the room. Other than the table and chairs, it was empty. Smooth white walls. Along the wall to the right of the door was a long mirror. I stared at my reflection and saw the worry in my eyes.

  This didn’t feel right.

  I mean, a lot hadn’t felt right since yesterday morning, but there was something about this that was really ... off. I glanced at the reflection of Tobias. He looked just as worried as I did.

  “Meet me in the observation room,” Carson had told the others.

  The mirror, it was like the ones I’d seen on television. A mirror on one side, a window on the other. Meant for observing without being seen.

  “You really think this is necessary?” Declan had asked just a minute ago. He’d said it with no inflection, nothing to give me a clue what he was talking about. He could have been discussing anything—or nothing at all. Was it necessary to keep me here? Was it necessary to keep trying to find an antidote when it was obvious I was going to die? Was it necessary for him to still be in my presence when there were other innocent civilians he needed to beat up and drag back here?

  “Why is the door locked?” I asked the man.

  “No idea.”

  I looked at him. “Who are you, really?”

  He shrugged. “My name’s Tobias Lawson.”

  “I already got your name. But ... but why did he bring you here and lock you in a room? And why make me come in here with you? And”—I pointed at the mirror—“why are they watching us?”

  “I don’t know.” He met my gaze unflinchingly, almost defiantly. His eyes were a spooky pale gray color that triggered a bit of familiarity in me.

  I’d seen eyes like that. Declan’s were gray, too, but not quite this light.

  Wait. It was the woman in the diner. Her eyes had been the same color.

  A breath caught in my chest.

  I was locked in a room with a vampire.

  11

  I THOUGHT FOR A MOMENT I WAS BEING PARANOID and imagining things. How could I make an assumption like this based solely on someone’s eye color? Maybe it was just a coincidence. Or maybe ...

  “How did the man with the eye patch get you here?” I asked warily.

  “He threw me in the trunk of a car.”

  “Before or after sunrise?”

  He looked at me steadily. “Before.”

  I walked to the mirror and banged my fist on it. “Let me out of here right now.”

  “Hey, relax,” Tobias said, taking a few steps toward me.

  I turned and held my hand up. “Don’t get any closer.”

  He frowned, then cocked his head to the side, a quizzical look on his face. “Why not?”

  “You’re a vampire.”

  His expression shadowed, but he drew closer still. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. I mean you no harm.”

  I pointed at the mirror. “Why do you have a reflection?”

  “That’s just a myth. A lot of what is said about vampires is myth. You have to believe me.”

  “Seriously, just stay the hell away from me.”

  But he’d drawn too close already. Close enough to smell me. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared. “What are you?”

  That was the exact same thing th
e vampire in the diner had said.

  I looked back at the mirror that I was certain looked into an observation room. “What are you doing in there? Get me out of here!”

  Then I felt the vampire’s hand on my shoulder and he turned me around to face him.

  “Your scent ... I’ve never smelled anything like it.” He drew his tongue over his bottom lip.

  His pupils spread out to cover the pale gray of his entire iris, as though they had dilated completely. The flesh of his cheeks and jaw sunk in. Dark blue veins now could readily be seen on his forehead and they branched down to his jaw through the transparent parchment of his skin.

  His top lip drew back from sharp fangs. In a few seconds flat he’d gone from looking like my memory of a high school teacher to a predatory monster. His fingers dug into my shoulder painfully. A thin line of drool escaped the corner of his mouth and drizzled down to his chin.

  “Let go of me,” I managed.

  Whatever he’d smelled on me, whatever he’d sensed, he was no longer thinking like a reasonable being. His dead black eyes moved to my throat. He pushed my face roughly back, forcing my head against the mirror. I fought against him, clawing at his arms, but it was like fighting against a tank. He was strong and his body felt like steel; unbreakable, inescapable.

  I’d nearly given up hope before, nearly ready to accept my fate. This poison inside of me was going to kill me and there was nothing I could do to stop that. It hurt to think about it, it hurt to hope for a solution when I knew that there wouldn’t be one. I’d nearly accepted that death was coming for me. Fast.

  But not like this. I didn’t accept this.

  Declan had burst into the washroom at the diner to pull the vampire away from me just in time. Where was he now? He said he’d protect me, but maybe that offer had expired when we reached Silver Ridge.

  What the hell were they doing? They’d locked me in a bedroom all night only to hand me over as breakfast for a hungry vampire.

  I felt it then—that spark and determination to not give up. I’d fight until my last breath even if it wouldn’t do any damned good.

  I didn’t want to die.

  This was not how it was supposed to end for me. Not here. Not now.

  But then I felt the vampire’s mouth on my throat. He’d dragged me to the table, forcing me back until I had no choice but to lie on it, and he held my head at an awkward and painful angle so he could have full access to my neck. I felt his erection press into me and his hand roughly kneaded my breast through my shirt before it slid down between my legs.

  Terror coursed through me.

  But it was only the beginning. After inhaling my scent and sliding his cool, wet tongue over my throat for a few seconds, seconds during which I whimpered and clawed at him and tried to break free, I felt the sharp tips of his fangs press against my skin.

  Declan, please ... help me ... I wasn’t sure if I said it aloud or only thought it. Either way, he didn’t help. He didn’t burst into the room to save me.

  And then I felt the pain.

  I screamed and kicked as the vampire pierced my skin and sank his fangs deep into my throat. The next moment it felt as if I’d been paralyzed. I couldn’t move anymore, couldn’t fight against him. But I could still feel everything.

  The pain was acute; deep and searing, like twin blades digging into my flesh. Then there was the equally horrible sound of slurping as he began to drink my blood. His hand, which had been stroking between my legs quickly moved to undo the top button of my pants and greedily slip inside.

  And I couldn’t move. I couldn’t beg for him to stop. At that moment, I couldn’t even scream.

  Please, no ...

  “So good,” he murmured thickly. “You taste so good. Smell so good. Feel so good.”

  And nothing happened. No one rushed in to save me. They were going to let him feed from me, let him rape me, let him kill me ...

  All while they watched safely from behind the mirror.

  But then the vampire froze. He pulled away from my neck and crotch and staggered away from me. I couldn’t move for a couple of seconds, but then I did. I slid off the table to the floor and scrambled back, my hand against my neck—the same side that had been injected yesterday.

  My blood was on the vampire’s lips and under the fluorescent lights it looked darker than regular blood—a dark crimson. He touched it, wiping his lips and then looking at his fingers.

  “What—?” Then his black eyes went wide and he convulsed and collapsed to his knees on the floor. I thought he was going to crawl toward me, but he didn’t. He stayed where he was, his hands over his stomach. “No. Oh fuck. No ... please ...”

  It sounded like he was in agony. He looked as if he was experiencing the same pain I did when I had an attack from the formula. What the hell was happening to him?

  Then he screamed and fire poured from his mouth. It rippled out like liquid, coating his entire body until he was a column of flames. A moment later, Tobias exploded in a burst of fire and ash, some of which came close to me. I batted it away like a swarm of bees, desperate not to get stung.

  The vampire was gone. Dead. Destroyed.

  My blood—dark, unnatural blood—it had poisoned him. Killed him. There was no other explanation for what had just happened.

  I was hyperventilating. My throat hurt so bad from the vampire’s bite. The panic and fear and shock built up in my chest to a point that I had to let it all out or I might explode as surely as Tobias just had.

  I started to scream.

  A few moments later the door opened and Carson entered the room, followed by Declan and Dr. Gray.

  I watched their approach, shaking, still in survivor mode. I scurried back into the corner until I had nowhere else I could go.

  “I’m sorry we had to do that, Jillian,” Carson said in a soothing tone. “But it had to be done. We had to see if I was right—that your blood is now poisonous to vampires or if the Nightshade formula had been completely compromised when it was administered to you.”

  “He ... he almost killed me.” My words were slurred and nearly incoherent.

  “But he didn’t. And we wouldn’t have let him. It would have taken much longer for him to have drained you. We would have intervened before that happened, I assure you.”

  “He was going to ... rape me.” My tears felt hot sliding down my cheeks.

  “A vampire’s lust for blood usually drives them to satisfy their sexual needs as well. It’s true. But again, we wouldn’t have compromised you in that manner. We would have stopped him before it was too late.” Carson crouched down next to me and put a hand on my shoulder. Through the blur of my tears, I could see he was actually smiling at me. “The experiment was a success, don’t you see that?”

  “Fuck you.” I pushed away from him and did up the front of my pants with trembling fingers.

  “Carson,” Dr. Gray said sharply. “She’s right. We should have come in sooner. There was no reason she had to be traumatized to this extent.”

  He turned to look at her. “It’s done. Whether we could have done it differently is beside the point.”

  She glared at him, her arms crossed over her chest before her gaze moved to me and softened. “I apologize, Jillian. Truly. You’ve been through a great deal already and this didn’t help at all.”

  “It was worth it,” Carson insisted. “It’s an incredible breakthrough. We now know that the Nightshade formula works just as Anderson claimed it would. It draws out a vampire’s hunger and lust and destroys him or her when they follow that uncontrollable drive. It’s a wonderful thing that happened here this morning.”

  “Just stay the fuck away from me,” I snapped.

  His lips thinned. “I know our methods may seem extreme to you, Jillian, but you have no idea what we’re up against here or how long we’ve worked to find the perfect weapon to use against these monsters. They’re nothing if not enduring. A few minutes of your discomfort or stress was a very small price to pay to come a
step closer to ridding the world of the threat of vampires once and for all.” He glanced at Dr. Gray. “Do you agree, or don’t you?”

  “The experiment was successful,” she allowed.

  “You had no right to throw me in here without telling me anything.” My fury grew with every word I spoke.

  “And would you have agreed if I’d told you?” he asked.

  “No. Of course not.”

  “There’s a first-aid kit in the medicine cabinet of your bathroom,” Dr. Gray said, “although the bite doesn’t look very bad. Vampires do very little damage with their bite. Ironic, really, that it can lead to death so easily. There is a component in a vampire’s saliva that, along with temporarily paralyzing its victim, will allow for quicker healing of the bite. You should heal up nicely in no more than a day or two.”

  Carson glanced at Declan, who stood with his arms straight like a soldier’s at his sides, his gaze blank. “Please accompany Ms. Conrad back to her room now.”

  No apologies, no “Sorry we threw you in the pit with a hungry monster with sharp teeth.”

  Just a “Clean yourself up, put on a Band-Aid, and stop your damn blubbering.”

  Carson Reyes may be a very smart man with his eyes on the prize of destroying bloodthirsty vampires, but he was also a grade-A heartless asshole.

  Declan helped me to my feet, then directed me out of the room without another word. I was still breathing hard, my heart racing, my chest tight.

  He said nothing as we took the two flights of stairs back up to my room. He opened the door and went directly to the bathroom, taking the first-aid kit from the medicine cabinet just as Dr. Gray had mentioned. After holding a facecloth under the tap, he then brought it to me.

  “The wound might not be that bad, but it should be properly cleaned.” He held the cloth as if he meant to apply it to my neck.

  I pushed his hand away and then slapped him as hard as I could across his ugly, scarred face.

  “You son of a bitch,” I snarled. “How could you let him do that to me?”

  I hit him again and again with open palms and closed fists—on his face, his chest, anywhere I could land a direct strike. He didn’t try to stop me for a moment. He just stood there and took it, let me get a few good hits in until my hands started to hurt. Then he grabbed my wrists.

 

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