Hunting the Dark (24 page)

‘You can’t cure me,’ I said flatly. ‘That’s impossible.’

‘You’re so certain of that?’

‘Vampirism isn’t a disease.’

‘But what if it was,’ Stark said, her voice trembling with zeal. ‘What if that very fact has been hidden for decades? Centuries, even!’

I was so
not
buying this, even if she was some fancy biologist with a list of awards that I’d never heard of. ‘Who would want to hide something like that?’

‘Who else? Think, Marie! Who has something to gain from the aura of power created around the notion of untouchable, “undead” creatures? Whose agenda would be served by all the myth and magic that surrounds vampirism?’ She sat back and waited, clearly expecting me to participate.

‘Vampires,’ I said slowly. ‘I guess vampires themselves would want to seem as mysterious and magical as possible.’ I didn’t like that she was beginning to make sense. Maybe. It went against everything I understood about my existence, when it came to vampires and the undead, but right now I was a captive audience.

Stark nodded. ‘As soon as we learned of your existence –
all
of your kind, I mean – scientists began studying you. We’re talking about almost one hundred years of research, looking for the building blocks of what makes it possible to live on after death. Searching for the cause. There has to be a cause – for everything.’

I shrugged. ‘Cause and effect. I get that. So?’

‘Exactly!’ she cried, as though I’d just discovered the meaning of life. ‘Cause and effect. Or cause and
consequence
, as I prefer to call it. And vampirism, what of that? Is it a virus? Some kind of bacteria? What causes the cells to change in the way that they do? It shouldn’t be possible  . . . and yet
it is
.’

She sounded more than a little passionate about her subject. I wondered how long she, personally, had been involved with Project Nemesis. Judging by the email that Ten had given me – the one from Nicole – Dr Stark had been doing this stuff for well over ten years. If that was the case, how long had this particular group of scientists been aware of our existence, studying us and pulling us apart to figure out what makes the monster under the bed tick?

Even though being a vampire was a whole new way of life for me, and not one that I welcomed at all, that didn’t mean I liked the idea of people like Helena Stark putting me under a microscope. Especially not if they concluded something as controversial as a vampirism virus – a disease that could, potentially, be cured. I didn’t want to think about it, not after everything I’d been through in the past year.

Hope threatened to shatter me, right there and then. How often had I dreamed of the possibility? That one day I could go back to normal? I’d been talking to Holly about this just a couple days ago  . . . she’d challenged me, asking if I’d take a magical reset – a return to my humanity. ‘Would you really want to be human again?’ she’d asked. ‘Ordinary? Mortal?’

In an instant
, I’d replied. I could hear myself saying it, even now.

Stark was watching me with the kind of interest reserved for a particularly fascinating experiment. She was creeping me out, and right at the moment I hated her for even waving the possibility of a cure in front of me. I decided to poke a few holes in her theory, if only to give myself time to think.

‘Maybe it’s all just magic,’ I said. ‘Vampires are simply what remains of a mythological world. Magic would explain a
lot
.’

‘Science does not allow for the existence of magic.’

‘That’s kind of a narrow view, don’t you think? I’m pretty sure that not all scientists are so willing to disregard the possibilities.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘If magic exists, there would be nothing but chaos. That is unacceptable to the people behind this project.’

In the pages of folklore that I’d read about vampirism in the past year or so, there was never any talk of it being a disease. Never
any
talk of a cure. Like  . . . ever. Sure, there were stories – some of which originated in my home of New England, and especially Rhode Island and the surrounding area – about how people used to protect themselves from vampire attacks, but nothing that talked explicitly about reversing the transformation.

You couldn’t de-monster yourself; it was impossible.

Dr Stark appeared to be on a roll. ‘The supernatural – or, more correctly in the case of vampires, the
preternatural
– doesn’t even exist. It’s a veneer of lies painted over the face of history: legend and lore and bedtime stories designed to scare the early settlers. The colonists needed something to explain the things they couldn’t understand, when medical knowledge was rudimentary.’

I nodded, caught up in her theory despite myself. ‘Things like consumption.’

‘Indeed.’ She folded her hands across the tablet computer on her lap. ‘The truth is, you’ve been altered on a genetic level – a cellular level – by a virus. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t undo it. At least, that is what we are trying to achieve here.’

‘I  . . . I don’t know,’ I said honestly. ‘I really don’t. This is the first I’ve heard of any of this.’

The doctor blinked. ‘Why are you surprised by that? That’s the point of conspiracy theories.’

I looked away, trying to process what she was saying. Her passion on the subject led me to question
why
she was so single-minded. Had she encountered a vampire as a child? Did she know someone who’d been Turned?

‘You have a medical condition, Marie,’ Stark continued. ‘One that we believe can be reversed. Given time – something that you have plenty of.’

‘How?’ I tried to look like I meant business, despite my current position. ‘What exactly
is
this cure that has you all so worked up?’

‘I think you already know.’

I frowned. ‘Um  . . . no. I really don’t.’

‘Subject Ten’s blood,’ she replied, sounding disappointed that I hadn’t figured it out for myself.

‘What?’ My brain spun its wheels as I tried to follow this unexpected revelation.

‘We believe that the blood of a true
dhampir
can cure vampirism.’

My brain caught up. ‘She really
is
a dhampir? My Maker says there’s no such thing.’

The doctor raised a sardonic eyebrow. ‘Says the vampire.’

‘It’s just a legend,’ I repeated.

Stark shook her head, almost pityingly. ‘And again, I say: just like vampires. Aren’t vampires supposed to be myths? You said it yourself: legends are created by humanity to explain away their fears. To make the hard truths of life more palatable. Even, perhaps, to convince children that they should be good little boys and girls, for fear that the big bad monsters will come for them in their sleep.’

‘But it’s
impossible
!’ I burst out.

Dhampirs were fairy tales; even vampires had myths and legends. I had to believe that, otherwise I might be tempted by this woman’s words – what she might be able to offer me.
But at what cost?
I thought bleakly.

Stark watched me with that open curiosity. ‘What makes you so sure that I’m wrong?’

‘Vampires can’t procreate. At all. Therefore, dhampirs can’t exist.’

‘What if there was another way for a dhampir to be  . . . born?’

‘Like Blade, you mean?’ I knew my obsession with comic book anti-heroes would serve me well, one day. Also: Wesley Snipes is hot.

‘Hardly.’ She flipped her handheld computer over so that I could see. ‘Why do you think
she
is here?’

I stared at the screen. Subject Ten sat on the floor of what looked like a glass cage. It reminded me of being a child at the zoo, tapping on the glass to make the snakes hiss and getting into trouble with Dad. Stark had caged a young girl, like an animal. Ten’s knees were drawn up to her chest and her arms were wrapped around them. She looked more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her.

‘You do realize how crazy all this sounds, don’t you?’ I asked, trying not to show how rattled I was. ‘What you’re proposing is totally unethical. It has to be!’

‘You dare preach to
me
of ethics? You, just a predator who acts on base instinct. A killer who drinks the blood of humans in order to go on living yourself?’ She didn’t seem so friendly now. Clearly, I’d hit a nerve. I was good at that.

‘I don’t hurt anyone,’ I protested, stung. ‘And I certainly haven’t
killed
anyone.’

‘Yet.’

‘
Ever
,’ I said, going on the offensive again. ‘And what you’re talking about: the blood of a dhampir being able to cure vampirism? I think that’s impossible.’

Dr Stark tucked the device away again. ‘You’re a vampire, Marie. Surely you, of all people, should understand that “impossible” has changed its meaning.’

She still sounded irritated and I loved that I was getting to her. I should probably keep that up. People made mistakes when they got mad.

‘Drinking blood was what got me into this mess in the first place,’ I said. ‘Not that I had a choice in the matter – it was either that or death at the time. And I was pretty much unconscious.’ I was getting off the point. Rallying, I finished my argument with a flourish. ‘Now you think that doing virtually the same thing to me as my Maker did when he Turned me will just make all of this go away?’

‘It’s all about checks and balances,’ she replied. ‘You lost your human life when you were transformed. Therefore, a life has to replace yours when we bring you back. That’s where we were going wrong for too long.’

‘What are you saying?’ I felt my cheeks grow cold and for a horrible moment I felt like I might pass out, even though I was mostly lying down.

‘The weapon is the cure,’ she said.

‘What?’ Something in her tone made me shiver. It was the same thing on that email Ten had given me.

Dr Stark straightened her glasses. ‘It is the name of a theory I am working on.’

‘What does it even mean?’

‘The dhampir must die in order for you to
live
.’

‘You’re twisted,’ I said, not bothering to keep my opinions to myself. ‘This is all wrong and you need to stop.’

‘Don’t you want to be cured? What if you really could regain your humanity?’

Of course I wanted that, and Stark knew it already. Whatever the hell she was, she was certainly no fool. But if what she was proposing really were possible – and I seriously doubted it – I would never allow it to happen if the price was the life of another. No matter how much I complained about my current existence, there were undeniable advantages to being stronger and faster than anyone else. A certain fearlessness had been growing in me over the past year: the inner me.
Moth.
Perhaps I’d miss her if she went away, after all. Despite the trouble she could get me into.

But  . . . I’d miss the sun more, when I could no longer go out in it at all. Not to mention how gross the whole blood-drinking deal was.
Who wants to live forever?

‘I do want to be human again,’ I said. ‘But I’ll stay the way I am if it means that someone else has to die in order to give me back my humanity.’

I liked the sound of it as I said it, but I can’t say I wasn’t tempted. Wouldn’t
you
be? If you were in my position, I mean.

Stark snorted an uncharacteristically unladylike laugh. ‘So, given the choice, you couldn’t possibly take a potential cure because you have such a well-developed sense of right and wrong? How interesting.’

‘There’s no way I’m sacrificing someone else’s life just so mine doesn’t suck so badly.’

‘Because it would be wrong?’

I frowned, wondering what was going on. ‘Exactly.’

Stark watched me very closely. ‘You’re a Catholic, aren’t you?’

‘Um  . . . yeah.’ I didn’t like where she was going with this. ‘It’s not a big deal. That’s just how I was brought up.’

‘Traditional Irish family,’ she said, as though we were just chatting over coffee. ‘It makes sense that you’d have a strong moral sense of right and wrong.’

I nodded, still waiting for the punchline.

She narrowed her eyes. ‘You realize, I presume, that you no longer have a soul? Now that you’re a vampire.’

And there it was. If she’d stabbed me through the heart, she couldn’t have hurt me any worse. I wondered if she knew that. From the look on her face, I figured  . . .
yes
. I wanted to know if what she’d said was true, or whether she was just being cruel. Testing me in some twisted way.

I kept my mouth tightly shut. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of doing whatever she seemed to expect of me. Perhaps she thought I’d freak out, try to break my chains, or at the very least break down in tears. Although I wanted to do all of those things – and a lot more besides – I kept it all buried in the same dark place that I reserved for my worst nightmares.

‘Well,’ Dr Stark said, making a quick note on her tablet, ‘this would make an excellent topic to return to. But we seem to have lost track of what we were talking about: Subject Ten, I believe, and the question of our trial cure for vampirism.’

‘Yes,’ I said, glad to be moving away from the question of my soul. ‘You were telling me about how you planned to kill your protégé in order to test a
theory
.’

‘Subject Ten was raised in this institution. She is well aware of the risks she faces.’

‘Did she sign up for it then?’ I curled my lip, covering my surprise about the part where Ten was raised at the Facility. ‘You can’t even give her a proper name. Does dehumanizing her help ease
your
conscience?’

Dr Stark stood up and began to pace the room. ‘You’re talking about a girl who would kill you as soon as look at you. Why should you care?’

But she hadn’t killed me, had she? Perhaps Stark had it wrong. There was plenty of humanity in Subject Ten. Maybe I could even help her to find it.

‘Honestly, I don’t think she was even trying to
hurt
me,’ I said. ‘Let alone kill me. She just wanted me out of her way.’ I tried to sit up, forgetting about my chains and almost throttling myself. ‘Can’t you take these off?’

‘Not yet.’

I let out a dramatic sigh. ‘Fine. Can you at least answer some more of my questions? I have so many.’