Bloody Kisses (7 page)

Yeah, that was the scientific term: going to shit.

“This infection spreads quickly. I need to get you to a safety pod. Where’s Dr. Polidori?” Barton asked, rubbing his arm.

“Polidori took the pod and locked me out.”

“Bastard. Just for that, when I get back to the central command center, I’m popping his door.”

Elizabeth wouldn’t deny the idea held appeal, but she was more concerned about what was going on with Barton and all the scratching. He seemed to be working something pretty awful on his bicep.

“What’s that? Were you bitten?”

“Just a scratch. Itches like a motherfucker, though.” He hadn’t stopped scratching and his uniform shirt was bore a dark stain that grew as she watched.

“Let me see it.”

“Doc,” he began.

“Barton, let me help you.”

“I guess you are pretty handy with that ax.” He unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. “Fuck,” he said, when he saw it.

It was obviously so much more than a scratch. The flesh around the wound had putrefied, and it was spreading.

“Jesus Christ, it feels like there are bugs under my skin.” He started scratching again, and this time, he tore into his skin, beneath it.

Elizabeth didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see. But she couldn’t turn away, she had to help him. He’d saved her.

And if she didn’t do something, he might be the one to end her. The whites of his eyes were tinged with red. It wouldn’t be long now.

“I’m changing, aren’t I?” He shook his head. “Goddamn it.” Barton couldn’t stop scratching and tearing at himself. “Take my sidearm.”

“I can’t.”

“Take the goddamn sidearm.”

She pulled the gun from the holster. It was heavy in her hands, foreign. She’d never shot a gun before, and she didn’t want to have to start, but unless she was hatcheting her way out of this place, she was going to have to.

“The safety mechanism, push it to the right. Right is right and left is dead. Go on, now.” He said this as if he were speaking to a recalcitrant child.

But they both knew how this was going to end. She wasn’t a little girl who wanted to stay up past her bedtime. She was a grown woman, a doctor and scientist who had given an oath to help people, not… Though she supposed that she would be helping him now.

A bullet to the head was the only thing that could.

W
hen the Bureau
7 installation came into view, urgency surged and with it, adrenaline. Adam could feel the chemical changes in his flesh as the body prepared for war.

A visible change came over him. The network of veins under his skin expanded, giving the appearance of some vine-like infection spreading across his body. This allowed for increased blood flow to all of his muscles that in turn increased in size. He could feel his bones expanding, hardening.

It was sheer agony.

But it was pleasure, too. It had been so long since he’d felt this primal strength, a sense of purpose. He hated that part of it, that he didn’t feel whole, or real, without it. He was a shadow, a spirit, drifting in the ether until the Bloodline called him. Then he became corporeal, the only real thing in a pit of shadows.

Electricity crackled around his fingertips, which only happened in cases of immediate threat to life.

Adam docked quickly and, as soon as the boat was secure, he ran for fence. He didn’t hesitate to grab hold of it, the electric charge in his hands stronger than the voltage of the fence. The gate slid open for him, but if it had slid open for him, it was open for anything that wanted in.

Or out.

Fuck it. Containing the infection was not his circus or his monkey. He was there for Elizabeth, and he was pretty sure even if humanity wiped themselves out, he could keep her safe.

Images of a man—a genetically modified man—burned in his brain. He was with Elizabeth now. He’d tried to help her, but he’d been infected. He’d demanded she take his gun.

The woman who’d once been that sweet child raised the weapon with shaking hands.

He could feel her fear, her sorrow, and her guilt.

Adam was torn between wanting to change that for her, to take that weight from her, and wanting her to feel every second of it. What had she been thinking agreeing to come to work for Bureau 7?

It kept coming back to that, and he supposed, if he was able to get her out alive, he could ask her.

Hopefully, she wouldn’t be too stubborn. The Wollstonecraft women were a breed apart, and getting any of them to do anything he wanted took more effort than he had the time or inclination to expend.

Surrendering to the instinct he knew would guide him to her, he ran. He ran hard and fast through the once sterile intuitional halls that had once been pristine, but were now covered in the gore of what used to be men.

Decidedly unsanitary.

When he finally saw the architects of the carnage, they were like one snarling mass of teeth. Some wore lab coats, security uniforms, others wore jumpsuits. But there was nothing left of what had once made them human.

The current flowing through his hands seemed to have little effect on them. It would move them, but only enough to draw their attention. He had to pop their heads off like so many undead dandelions to get any real results.

Several sets of those stiletto-like teeth tore into his arms, but they barely broke the skin. Adam wasn’t worried about infection. Only the living had that concern, he was sure. Of course if he was wrong—well, if he was wrong, he’d be past caring.

And those who meddled where only gods should trespass would get their just desserts.

He fought his way into the lab, eliminating the revenants that stood between him and Elizabeth just in time to see the genetically modified unit turn.

And the bullet that exploded out of the weapon in Elizabeth’s hand.

Her aim was true and the force of the specially modified ammo knocked the newly turned revenant back ten feet. What was left of his brain exploded against the wall in an artistic spray that reminded Adam very much of a flower.

She focused all of her attention on him, determination in her eyes.

“Shoot me, if it will make you feel better, but I’m taking you out of here.”

She didn’t ask who he was. She simply lowered the weapon and nodded.

That was so much easier than he’d anticipated. He had to wonder, was she infected?

“Are you bitten or scratched?”

“No.” Her eyes were drawn to his arms.

He looked down and realized he’d definitely been bitten more than once, but the wounds started to heal even as he watched. “Doesn’t matter. I’m immune.”

“Really? I’d love to look at your blood.” She bit her lip. “Um, maybe not here. But… somewhere.”

“Goddamn it. You’ve unleashed a zombie apocalypse, and you’re still trying to play God.”

“No, that’s not it at all. The zombie apocalypse is here and it sucks, but you have a cure in your veins. Why wouldn’t I want to study it? Maybe it doesn’t have to be an apocalypse?” Her tone implied he was stupid for thinking otherwise.

“The cure is in your blood, too. Although, a bite would most likely kill you. But hey, you wouldn’t turn.” He shrugged.

“How do you know so much about it?”

“Because our blood is… similar.” He spun just in time to catch another revenant as it launched itself into the room. Adam caught it midair and beheaded it.

“You’re very strong. I wish I was that strong.” She tucked the gun into the waist of her slacks and swung the ax up over her shoulder. “Lead the way, big guy.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Do you know who I am?”

She nodded. “Well, I don’t generally run off with strangers, although in the middle of this shitstorm, I’d probably leave with most anyone. But Polidori told me you’d come for me, if you’re Adam?”

“I am he.” He scanned the room. “And where
is
John?”

“I don’t know. He locked himself in a safety pod.” She pointed to the wall.

“I can’t believe he left you here to face this alone,” he snarled. Adam was completely disgusted. “I’m sure he’s immune to the infection as well.”

“He said you were coming. That I’d be fine.” Elizabeth lifted her chin. “It seems I am. Let’s go. I don’t care where he is.”

“I do.” He ran his hands along the wall where she’d pointed, the electric current shorting out the door on the safety pod. It whooshed open, but he was not all surprised to find it vacant. A hole had been torn in the steel of the ceiling and that was likely how Polidori had made his exit.

“I told him I was going to kill him.”

Her need for revenge, or maybe it was justice, it didn’t matter, but it was still a heavy weight that settled like manacles around him.

“Do you want me to kill him for you?” he offered casually, as if her answer was of no real consequence.

But it did matter. It mattered so much he could taste it.

“No.” She shook her head. “I just want to get the hell off this island. John will get what’s coming to him, I’m sure. He abandoned his post in a crisis. The people I work for have… rules about that.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“No. You’re going to help me get to a safehouse on the other side of the island.”

“My boat—”

“I have to get in touch with the mainland before I do anything. I’m not putting my neck on their chopping block, too, for abandoning my post. It’ll be safe. Just get me there.”

He sighed. He didn’t think it was the right choice, but what did he know? She was the one who worked for Bureau 7. She seemed confident that Polidori was going to be punished ugly for what he’d done, and maybe she had firsthand experience.

“How far is it?”

“About eight kilometers through dense forest. There’s a trail.”

“That all of the staff working here know and so, too, probably, do the revenants.”

“So we need to move fast and hope we get there first.”

“Then let me carry you.”

“Excuse me, what?” She eyed him.

“I didn’t stutter. I can move much faster than you can. I’m immune to their bites. You need to get there fast, and I can get us there fast. I don’t need to stop to breathe. I don’t need to worry about rocks or uneven ground.”

“So, should I just climb on your back, or what?”

She looked so doubtful, he couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t want to smile. This was serious business and there shouldn’t have been anything to smile about.

But smile he did.

“Well, it is a bit ridiculous, isn’t it?” She smiled back.

By the angels in heaven… or perhaps it more like by the demons in hell… The smile transformed her face. He’d never liked looking at one of them so much as he did this one—humans. Women.

He wanted to keep that smile on her face always because she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She was enough to make him believe in the divine.

“Come, like this.” He swept her up, taking her ax, and pressing her against his chest.

“I can’t see what’s coming now.”

“You don’t have to see. Leave that to me. Just hold on.” Adam had never understood what it was like to hold something he found precious. He was careful with the antiques in the castle, he was aware of the power in his body, the strength. He knew he had to be careful with small things, but this was different.

He didn’t have the words to explain it.

Yes, she was definitely enough to cause him to believe in the divine because it would take the hand of such a being to wrest her from him now that he had her.

She was so soft, but he didn’t he didn’t get the sense that she was fragile. Perhaps human, breakable in a singular way that only humans were, but she was strong, too. She didn’t need coddling, didn’t need saving. Not really.

Adam tried to quell the disappointment he felt. If he was honest with himself, there was part of him that wanted to be her knight. Her savior. It was a role he’d hated and despised, but resented for all of her ancestors since his birth.

But for her, he wanted to fulfill his purpose.

He couldn’t, because she didn’t need him.

Taking a revenant’s head from his body with a one-handed swing of the ax told him that maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

She turned her face against his chest and hung on tight.

Adam felt guilty he was so aware of her—of the way her body fit against his. He’d been with prostitutes, but he’d always had to pay them extra and it was always from behind. None of them had ever wanted to look at his face or his scars.

He’d stopped paying for pleasure when he’d stopped trying to be human. He wasn’t like them; he wasn’t like anyone. He could find the same pleasures with his hand. The warm, soft flesh wasn’t worth the price he had to pay—not in coins, or in his dignity. Even a woman who sold her body as a product didn’t want to do business with him.

That was telling when a hungry mouth and an outstretched hand would withdraw when he passed.

Fuck, but he was twisted up in all the crap he’d thought he’d let go of so long ago. She brought back so many ugly things.

But beautiful things, too.

The arc of the ax as it delivered a swift and deserved death, once upon a dark time, it had been his weapon of choice.

And the memory of a woman’s body, her sweet lemon scent… Damn, but he loved lemons. He loved them because they were bright and sour. He loved them because in their unvarnished, unprocessed state, they were unpalatable to so many.

But he loved them.

He took head after head with his ax as he fought his way back to the outside. He should’ve already worked his way through the staff and inhabitants. Adam knew in his gut there were more people, more subjects, at the installation than what Elizabeth or anyone else was aware of.

Otherwise, he’d have stayed and cleaned up their mess, but he couldn’t risk exposing Elizabeth.

They moved through the security gates and out into the open forest. It felt wrong to him to be running away from their only method of escape. Some enterprising undead might have enough muscle memory to remember how to operate the damn thing.

Some of them were talking, there was awareness in those dead eyes.

For a second, he’d felt a twinge of remorse at killing them, because for these single moments, he wasn’t alone in the world. There were others like him—not living, not dead, and had once been human.

If the master directive to protect the bloodline hadn’t been instilled in him, he wasn’t sure if he’d have killed any of them.

Strange images of a world where he was king played in his mind, but he didn’t stop running, didn’t stop fighting.

There was something unspoken between them. She didn’t have to verbalize where she wanted him to go. Somehow, he just knew. He pushed as hard as he could and covered the ground so fast, it was like he was flying. Adam never felt the earth touch his feet.

He didn’t breathe and the twin hearts beating in his chest never changed their steady rhythm. Adam slowed when he saw the edge of a cliff approaching. There was no more ground, only the sea beyond.

When they stopped, she looked up at him. “Did we make it?”

He eased her to her feet. “I’m here. At the picture in your mind. Now, where do we go?”

Elizabeth looked around and for a moment, seemed lost, but he watched as she squared her shoulders and then sank to her knees, digging in the dirt for something.

“What are you looking for?”

“The lever. There’s a staircase down to the cave.”

“That doesn’t seem very bright.” Not that anyone asked him.

“It can be deactivated once we’re inside.” She pulled a lever and the sharp sound of creaking metal pierced the air. “Look, there.” She pointed toward the edge of the cliff.

A gleaming metal staircase had emerged. From where, he wasn’t sure. It seemed as if it had materialized from nowhere.

“I remembered. Oh, thank god.”

“Again, I don’t think god had anything to do with it.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Did I? It’s a thing you humans say when things are good. Or some random chance works out for you because you needed it to. But you don’t say it when the bad things happen. Like when your mother died from her brain tumor. There was no thanking god, for surely, if there is one, that is his realm too, as are all things. Or so humans believe. No, instead, you’re trying to do things to thwart his plans. The illnesses he allowed.”

She eyed him and was ready for the fight he and his maker would have on this topic, the fight that he and Mary had… Even the fight he’d had with Elizabeth’s mother when she’d found out she was sick.