Chosen by Blood (18 page)

He had only needed that split second of calm to realize that until she saw him, Felicia’s eyes had been completely devoid of desire. Knowing that he and he alone affected her that way had threatened to shred his control yet again. That was why he’d kept his words to a minimum and gotten away from her as fast as he could.

Losing a measure of control wouldn’t bother him when it was just him and Felicia, with her under him, spread wide to take him inside her. But in front of his team? In front of the werebeast? No way.

Knox deliberately pushed thoughts of Felicia and her naked, warm flesh aside. Despite his inability to read the scientists’ minds, something he’d never experienced before, the trip hadn’t been a total failure. Mahone had provided him with new information. The news was both helpful and devastating. The sooner the team knew about the situation, the sooner they could put aside their petty differences and concentrate on the task at hand.

“So are you going to tell us what you did today?” Felicia asked.

He returned his focus to her. She swallowed, as if she, like him, felt the same pulsing arc of electricity sizzling between them. “I went to see the scientists who worked with Barker on the antidote.”

Felicia’s eyes rounded. “The President authorized that? Knowing you could read their minds? What did you find out? How come you haven’t—”

Knox shook his head. “I saw them. I tried to read their minds. I got nothing.”

“You got nothing, or there was nothing to get?” Lucy clarified.

“Well, I . . .” Knox frowned, then tore his gaze from Felicia, wondering if lust was frying his brain. The mage’s question made sense, or at least it should, but what did it matter? “I wasn’t able to glean anything from reading their minds.”

“Performance anxiety,” Hunt whispered loudly to Felicia.

Felicia glared at him.

“Let me know when you’ve got the adolescent humor out of your system, Hunt,” Knox said, “and then I’ll continue, okay?” Knox stared at the were, keeping his face blank even though he so badly wanted to pound him into the ground. He’d decided the best way to handle the guy was to treat him like he was an annoying little brother—Lord knows he’d gotten enough practice growing up with Zeph. And, Knox knew, condescension would piss Hunt off more than any overt attempt to establish authority would.

Sure enough, when Knox crossed his arms over his chest, outwardly prepared to wait all night if he had to, Dex clenched his jaw muscles until his cheek ticked. Knox counted to five—very slowly—before continuing.

“I don’t know why I couldn’t read them. It’s never happened before. I have reason to believe that loss of the power is associated with vamp malnourishment. Perhaps it was just a temporary block for me, perhaps not. Either way, despite the dead end with the scientists,” Knox said, “Mahone’s men have been busy gathering information on foreign soil. Or in this case, from above foreign soil.” He picked up a stack of photos and handed them to O’Flare, indicating that he should take one set and pass them on.

“What the—” O’Flare’s gaze swiftly connected with Knox’s. “This is the DPRK.”

“That’s correct,” Knox said, looking at the others. “The Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. North Korea. O’ Flare spent some time there before the War, providing relief inside the Demilitarized Zone to villagers in Tae Sung Dong. That zone is colored in with yellow. The red dotted line indicates the MDL, the Military Demarcation Line, where Northern and Southern troops faced off before both governments made an armistice agreement to move their troops back twenty-two hundred yards from the front line, creating a buffer zone two-and-a-half miles wide.”

“Did I sign up for a geography lesson without knowing it, or is this going somewhere?” Hunt asked impatiently.

“Do you need a geography lesson, or can you tell us what the Gyeongui Line is?”

Hunt smirked. “I can help you out, sure.” Hunt looked at the others. “The Gyeongui Line is a highway that’s sometimes used to get from South to North Korea. Although, because the two Koreas are still technically at war, it doesn’t get much use. You’d have to be insane or have a death wish to want to use it. And”—he growled, holding up his hand—“before any of you make any wisecracks about the Ferals and some of the wastelands we’ve driven through, they haven’t driven that particular road. I haven’t, either. But I admit I’m curious. When I say no one uses this highway, am I wrong?” Hunt looked at Knox. For once, the were had seemed to abandon his attitude in favor of curiosity.

“No, you’re not wrong. Still, the highway is the most obvious method of transportation between the two zones. In the mid-twentieth century, however, several underground tunnels were discovered. The consensus is that these tunnels became progressively more advanced as time went on. At some point, they were discovered and the South even used them as a marketing tool to get more tourists into the country. According to both North and South Korea, the tunnels have since been sealed on both ends and abandoned.”

“If they’re sealed, what do they have to do with our mission ?” Lucy asked.

“ As of six months ago, it looks like they were unsealed, thus enabling someone to smuggle something into North Korea from the South. In doing so, he’d avoided the traditional travel methods into North Korea by air or sea, which are extremely limited and heavily monitored.”

“But six months ago, the antidote hadn’t even been created, had it?” Lucy countered.

“Not that we know of. But once they began to suspect North Korea of obtaining the antidote, the FBI retrieved satellite photos that had already been taken in that region, hoping to find prior connections between North Korea and either vamps in general or the FBI scientists in particular. Instead, they found something else.” Moving to a projector he’d set up toward the back of the room, Knox turned it on and brought up a slide that zoomed in on a portion of the diagram he’d handed out. “These satellite photos were taken about four months ago. This area here”—Knox pointed to an area shaded in gray—“denotes three of the incursion tunnels. You’ll see the openings of this tunnel are here, on the south side, and here, on the north.” Knox pressed a button on a remote, which made the next slide appear on the screen. “This shows the north end of the tunnel over a period of seventy-two hours, as recorded by these successive stills.”

Knox pushed the remote button several times, switching the images on the screen. At one point, Hunt straightened in his chair. “Stop.”

Knox did.

Hunt stood and walked to the screen, then pointed to several dark spots that had appeared on what should have been a slide identical to the last. “There’s a change.”

“Good eyes, Hunt.” Knox clicked the remote again, increasing the zoom on the satellite picture until the black dots began to resemble images. Fuzzy, yes, but clearly recognizable for what they were.

Felicia gasped.

Lucy got to her feet. “They’re using the tunnels to transport Others from South Korea into North Korea?”

“‘Transporting’ being a loose term,” O’Flare agreed, his voice tight with anger, “considering they’re obviously being moved against their will.”

“As I said, these photos are old. We don’t know if they’re continuing to use the tunnels, only that they used them once four months ago. Subsequent photos fail to reveal similar activity. Chances are, if they’re still smuggling Others in, they’ve found another way to do it.”

“There are wraiths in that picture,” Lucy whispered. O’Flare cursed flatly.

“Yes,” Knox said as he continued to scroll through the slides.

“Oh God,” Felicia whispered when she saw the picture of the vamp. Her gaze shot to Knox, who compressed his lips together. She shook her head. “Okay, okay. Hold on for a second. Let me play devil’s advocate.” Felicia stood and peered at the slide more closely. “How can we know these Others are entering North Korea against their will? How do we know they’re not being rolled in on gurneys because they’re injured?”

Hunt snorted. “Jesus, Red. That’s a little naïve, don’t you think?”

Narrowing her eyes, Felicia blasted Hunt with a glare. “It’s naïve to question a bold assumption? These are grainy shots taken from a great distance under poor weather conditions, Hunt. Yes, given the clandestine nature of the movement, the reason for moving these individuals—who we shouldn’t just assume are all Others, by the way—is probably less than altruistic, but it’s best to consider all possibilities, don’t you think, before we antagonize an already hostile government with assumptions ?”

Glancing at Knox, Hunt grunted. “She always this mouthy? And you really want to take her to bed?” he scoffed.

Felicia and Knox reached the werebeast at the same time. He was pinned to his chair with his head pulled back, his throat vulnerably exposed, within seconds. Knox glanced at Felicia. “Go ahead. I’ll hold him for you.”

Disgusted, Felicia shook her head at Knox. “Let him go.”

With a heavy shove, Knox released him and backed off.

“I’m getting the feeling humor is running scarce right about now,” Hunt said as he adjusted his shirt and brushed back his hair.

“You’re worse than the wraith,” Lucy snapped. “There are werewolves in those pictures. Don’t you care?”

“Of course I care,” Hunt snarled. “I care that any were, wolf or beast, was weak enough to be taken down, strapped to a gurney, and transported halfway across the world. It’s bad for my rep.”

“You’re an ass,” O’Flare said. “But the less obvious issue we need to focus on is why? What do the North Koreans want with these Others? Felicia is right. We have to explore all possibilities, including the more benign. If their purpose is benign, if they obtained the antidote for humanitarian reasons, for example, we need to take that into account. It’s not likely given the country’s history, but—”

“Where—where did you get those photos?”

The whisper was so low it would have been easy to miss but for the raw emotion infusing it. Knox turned a split second before all the others to see the wraith standing in the open doorway of the conference room. She took several steps forward. Even as he watched, a small pack of gum fell from her loose right hand and onto the floor.

“Wraith . . .” Knox began in a low voice, instinctively reaching out for the female who naturally inspired pity even as she tried to push it away.

The wraith’s expression was one he’d never seen on her—one he’d never imagined he would—but it was one he was familiar with. He’d seen it often during the War, a frozen mask of terror, usually most often seen on the faces of the young or the innocent who’d been devastated by things or images that should only have been experienced, if at all, in someone’s nightmares.

“Where . . .” She turned confused eyes on Knox.

“She’s shaking,” Felicia murmured just behind him. Knox nodded, but held out his hand, indicating that everyone should stay back. He needn’t have bothered.

The others were still, their bodies echoing the wraith’s tension as they watched her carefully. Lucy flinched first when a tortured moan escaped the wraith’s throat.

“Wraith,” Knox said loudly, trying to get through to her. “ Answer me. Do these pictures look familiar to you? Wraith?”

But she was gone, Knox realized. The moans turned into full-out groans, and those into wails, and those into shrieks so piercingly high and filled with terror that O’Flare, Felicia, and Lucy covered their ears.

Knox pushed his face in front of hers. “Wraith. Stop it. Now.”

“Yeah, like that’s going to help,” Hunt snapped.

“What do you suggest I do?” Knox snapped right back. “If I touch her to shake her, I might push her completely over the edge.”

“Well, she’s already . . . there.” Hunt said the last word much more softly than the first three because Wraith’s screams had abruptly stopped. As she stared at the screen, Knox did as well, trying to see what she saw besides a pale vamp strapped to a gurney with restraints that went around his legs, torso, and neck.

“Wraith?” Lucy approached the wraith hesitantly. “What’s wrong? What do you—”

Wraith flinched away from Lucy’s outstretched hand. She took a step back. Then another. Until she once more stood in the hallway rather than in the room with everyone else. “I . . .” She shook her head as if to clear it. The movement dislodged the moisture that had filled her eyes. Feeling it, she reached up and touched the tears with her hand, then stared at the moisture on her fingertips as if it were blood. “I’m sorry,” she croaked before she bolted down the hall.

“Damn it. Felicia,” Knox said, turning toward her. “Can you—”

“No. I’ll go.”

“What? No,” Knox snapped at O’Flare. “Let Felicia—”

But O’Flare was already gone.

For the longest time, none of them spoke.

Then Hunt released a deep sigh and rubbed his face. “Did you see the look on her face? Poor little wraith.”

“A little late for you to grow a heart, don’t you think?” Lucy asked.

Hunt smiled thinly. “Can’t grow something from nothing,” he agreed.

“What do you think happened to her?” Felicia asked.

Knox just shook his head and tried not to imagine the possibilities.

“Who knows?” Hunt said. “But tell me something, Red. You still think the Others in those pictures were just feeling under the weather?”

Knox looked up just in time to see Felicia, with absolutely no expression on her face, lift her hand and give Hunt the finger.

 

 

Caleb O’Flare found Wraith in the same kitchen where she’d told him to fuck off just hours earlier. She was standing with her arms braced on that metal cart, the mess Felicia and Hunt had made earlier still on the floor, staring at a wicked-looking knife lying flat on the cart’s surface.

With his heart in his throat, Caleb pretended an ease he didn’t feel and leaned against the doorway.

“Nice set of lungs you showed us back there. Now why don’t you stop staring at the knife? You’ve already figured out cutting yourself isn’t going to work.”