Enemy Within (Vampire Born Trilogy, #2) (23 page)

Cindy breaks up the silence. “His body’s not showing signs of rigor mortis.” The nurses are staying with us until Kaitlynn wakes and Mirko can wipe their memories.

“It’s the blood he drank. It’s working,” Mirko says.

“Does that mean it will work for Kaitlynn?” I ask.

“It’s a good sign.”

“When do we wake her?” I regard Kaitlynn. She looks peaceful. I almost don’t want to wake her and bring back the pain, have her go through a disgusting ritual, and then still have to tell her that David was murdered. I will, though, because no matter how crappy it will be, nothing is as bad as losing her.

“He smells ready now, but I want to give it a bit longer before we wake her and have her drink.”

“What do you mean ‘he smells ready’? I don’t smell anything,” Jaren says.

I don’t smell anything, either. Well, besides the other odors I’ve been inhaling since the elevator doors opened into the morgue.

“One of the things I’m contracted quite often for by the Pijawikas is to assist with the turning of Zao Duhs. I can smell when someone is about to die, and I can smell when the Pijawikan blood within the dead body is at its ripest for the change.”

“Uuuhh.” Jaren crinkles his nose.

“It is regarded as an advanced skill. If Pijawikas try to turn someone without a sniffer, they’re guessing based on time, which actually means they’re blind. People’s pH levels have a lot to do with how the Pijawikan blood will react within the dead person’s blood. Turnings are significantly more successful with a sniffer guiding the process than without one.”

Gratitude replaces any unease I have about him being able to smell something I can’t. He can smell when it’s the right time to have Kaitlynn drink. He knows how to increase the chances of Kaitlynn’s survival beyond anything I can understand, and I’m indebted to him in a way I’ve never been before. “Well, I’m glad you’re a sniffer, then.”

Twenty-five more minutes pass. The seconds are torture on my nerves. “All right. Let’s wake Kaitlynn.”

I move to her bed and gently shake her by the shoulder. “Kaitlynn. Wake up, hon.”

She doesn’t stir.

I look to Mirko, certain he can see the fear in my eyes.

“Smelling salts,” he says to Cindy and holds his hands out to catch the little white packet. He bends the packet until it snaps and he puts it to Kaitlynn’s nose.

She rouses and starts coughing.

I cough and I’m a few steps away. The ammonia is strong.

Mirko sits Kaitlynn up and waits until she stops coughing. He waits until she looks at him. “Kaitlynn, you’re not going to like what you have to do for this change to occur, but you’re too weak to argue with me, okay?”

She creases her forehead at him, coughing once more, and nods.

“Good. You have to do everything I say, as I say it.” Mirko walks around Kaitlynn’s bed to the side where Mr. Richter’s bed is parked. He wraps an arm under Mr. Richter’s armpit and pulls him closer to the end of his bed and to Kaitlynn. “Knife,” he says, and Cindy grabs a scalpel, handing it to Mirko.

Mirko turns Mr. Richter slightly. He moves his gown to the side and slices Mr. Richter on the back, about two inches long.

Blood the consistency of mucus balloons out of the cut.

I cover my mouth and nose. Now I smell it.

Kaitlynn has to drink that?

Mirko drops the knife and yanks Mr. Richter up by both armpits, hoisting him above Kaitlynn’s face. “Drink.”

Kaitlynn whines from underneath Mr. Richter.

I can’t blame her.

“It’s the only way, Kaitlynn. Do it,” Mirko tells her.

She moans and then I hear slurping and gagging, more slurping and some gulping.

I have to turn away and walk to the other end of the room. I can’t watch any longer and I don’t want Kaitlynn to know I’m grossed out by what she has to do. It was my idea and I won’t allow her to second-guess it.

I study the writing on the wall next to the sink. “RL, LL, kidney …” A scale sits next to the writing.

They must use it to weigh the organs.

Gross.

I focus on the floor until Mirko asks Cindy for some water for Kaitlynn. I turn and Kaitlynn spits into a steel bowl. She takes another sip of water and spits again.

“That was nasty,” she says, wiping her mouth.

“It sure doesn’t smell fresh,” Cindy says when she takes the bowl from Kaitlynn.

Kaitlynn again reclines on the bed. She inhales deeply and releases it out slowly. “How bad is it going to hurt?” she asks.

“It’s comparative to radiation poisoning.” Mirko grabs her hand in a comforting gesture. “It will change your DNA on a molecular level, and within only a few hours. Something that big in such a short amount of time is going to hurt. But if I did it, I’m sure feisty Kaitlynn can handle a little changing process, right?”

She laughs quietly before turning somber again.

I climb in bed next to her and hold her hand.

I wish I could take away all the pain she’ll have to go through, all the suffering that will hit when I tell her about David.

But mostly I hope she survives the change.

We can make it through anything as long as we have each other.

I just need her to make it.

CHAPTER NI
NETEEN

Brooke

Watching Kaitlynn suffer as she vomits and speaks in a delirious gibber is hard—but that’s before the screams.

I can
’t ease any of it for her.

I can’t stop it.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but her wailing still rings in my ears. I understand now why Mirko chose the morgue as the place for Kaitlynn to change; we’re underground and surrounded by thick concrete walls on all four sides.

Kaitlynn’s skin turns a bright red within half an hour after drinking Mr. Richter’s blood. To the touch, she feels like she’s on fire. And I know she feels it too because when I touch her, she shrieks and pulls away.

It’s torture.

Mirko warned us it would get bad, but I had no idea just how bad he meant.

Beyond the screams and hollers, her pulse jackhammers. “Based on her vitals,” Cindy says, “she shouldn’t even be alive right now.”

“Give her some time. She’s stronger than she looks,” Mirko says.

I know she’s strong, but I don’t know how much longer I can stand it.

The other nurse grabs buckets of ice and dumps them on and around Kaitlynn.

The ice dissolves and soon Kaitlynn lays in a wet bed, sheets sopping.

That bothers me. It’s all I can focus on. “We have to change her sheets,” I say for probably the tenth time.

“Slatki, I doubt she cares about her sheets right now. If anything, it’s probably providing some small relief.”

I don’t see it, though. All I see is how the sheets stick to her skin as she rocks back and forth.

Her heartbeat skyrockets again and her body vibrates. “More ice!” Mirko yells to the nurse.

She runs across the room and grabs another bucket, but before she gets back, Kaitlynn stills.

No. Please, no.

Mirko shakes her. “Kaitlynn. Kaitlynn!”

He slaps her, and I wince. He didn’t do it out of malice. He’s trying to wake her and get her breathing again, but I’m freaking out.

“The adrenaline,” Mirko commands as he holds his hand out to Cindy.

She passes him a syringe with a large needle.

Mirko walks his fingers over Kaitlynn’s chest as if feeling for where her ribs are and stabs the needle into her heart, plunging its stopper all the way down.

Kaitlynn shoots up from her prone position, taking in a huge gasp of air. Her eyes are wide and as soon as she’s done inhaling, she screams.

It’s horrible.

I stand with my hands over my face and rock.

I remind myself that as long as she’s screaming, she’s breathing.

It does little to soothe me.

The torture goes on for what feels like years, but according to the clock, only an hour and a half has passed since Kaitlynn drank from Mr. Richter.

This is one of the worst days of my life.

Kaitlynn’s screams began to quiet down and become more intermittent after another half an hour. I don’t know if that’s because she’s lost her voice and is exhausted, or because the pain has lessened.

I hope it is the latter.

Relief fills me when she settles enough to fall asleep.

I sit down on a metal stool and watch her.

Her chest rises and falls.

She’s alive.

She’s breathing.

No matter how hard it is for me to hear her and watch her go through her change, I know it’s harder on her. And not nearly as hard on me as it would’ve been if I’d lost her.

When she goes long enough without waking in another screaming fit, I finally drop my head in my hands and relax my shoulders.

Kaitlynn will make it. She’s made it through the worst part, which means she should make it through the rest.

She’ll never be the same, though. How can a person wake up after something like this and not be changed?

This is a fight for life unlike anything I could ever have imagined.

I bet David fought. But he didn’t stand a chance.

And when Kaitlynn wakes, she’ll start asking about him.

What will I tell her?

She’s gone through a horrific battle of physical pain, but once she finds out what happened to David, she’ll go through it all over again emotionally.

And I can’t spare her from that, either.

I peer over at Jaren lying on one of the steel tables. No way can that be comfortable, but I doubt he cares.

His eyes glisten with tears, and he lolls his head away from me and folds his arm over his face.

His best friend was murdered, and now that it’s quiet, I’m sure his mind focuses on David. David was there for Jaren when his dad abandoned him. David offered companionship when no one else would. Jaren stayed at David’s house when his own was too quiet or too painful to dwell in. And David’s dad took Jaren fishing when his own wouldn’t look at him.

Their lives were intertwined, and the part that breathed love into Jaren’s has been ripped away.

Will he blame me for it?

When I try to make sense of it and how we could’ve prevented David’s murder, I keep circling back to me.

I didn’t order it, nor did I pull the knife, but I was the motivation.

The cause.

And Kaitlynn will put two and two together as well. She may not say it out loud, but it will cross her mind and make her sick. Vampires wouldn’t have had a reason to kill David if it weren’t for me.

He didn’t have to die. His death hasn’t made me leave. If anything, it has made me hungrier for revenge.

Is it the same person who sent the assassin to kill me at the airport? They couldn’t make me disappear by attempting to kill me, so they’re going to try some other way?

Whoever is behind this doesn’t care. Preserving life isn’t their priority, and I doubt they considered the hole they’d leave in the lives of those remaining.

My father couldn’t have anything to do with it. Not only because it means he doesn’t want me, but that it means whatever evil he carries could’ve transferred to me.