Summoning Sebastian (19 page)

I was beginning to hear voices in the distance, a low mumble of conversation. Armand gestured toward a door. “We keep our food supply on the hoof, as it were, for similar reasons. Fires can easily destroy a refrigerator full of blood. Our food can escape on its own. Then we just go find them.”

The door led into a sort of observation deck. Below was a wide area filled with comfortable-looking furniture. And people. About a dozen lounged on the couches and recliners, about half of each gender, though a couple looked like they could fall on either side of that line. Most of them were watching a big-screen TV. I recognized the film—it was the latest Marvel superhero movie. Wait—no, it wasn't. It was the next one—it hadn't been released in the US yet. I made an impressed face, which Armand apparently noticed.

“We take good care of them,” he said.

I nodded. This certainly wasn't what I'd pictured. My idea had been more along the lines of people kept in cages and fed bread and water drained so regularly they could barely function. Instead, they got to see Thor's new costume before I did.

“It's very difficult to have blood supplies shipped here on a regular basis.” Armand continued his explanation. It didn't sound to me like he was trying to justify their methods. It sounded more like he was bragging. “We feed these folks an optimum diet for high-quality blood. About every six months, we switch out half for new employees.”

“Employees? You pay them?” Surprise after surprise.

“Of course. We pay them quite well, in fact.”

“Huh.” I wondered how much I could make at that gig, especially since, according to Colin and Sebastian, my stone-enhanced blood had approximately the effects of a really good joint. I glanced at Colin. He quirked an eyebrow as if following my thoughts.

“In any case,” Armand went on, “I wanted you in particular to see our arrangement, Ms. Taylor. I know you had some concerns.”

“I did.” I still did—he could have been feeding me a line of bullshit. But no one there looked unhappy. And every one of them was getting to see that movie before I did. Fuckers.

“I hope they've been allayed.”

I just nodded, not really wanting to give him any more blatant confirmation.

From there, we headed toward the periphery of the facility. A long corridor led to a door that said AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Armand ran a key card, and the lock clicked open.

“We keep the research facilities a distance away from the living quarters,” he explained. “We've actually been underground for about a quarter of a mile.”

Colin nodded toward the door Armand had just opened. “Is this part of the facility underground as well?”

“Partially.” He held the door open while Colin and I went in. “You'll see.”

This door opened onto a huge space, about the size of a warehouse or an airplane hangar. As for the thing in the middle, I had no idea what to think about that.

It was huge, reaching to the ceiling of the big, open warehouse-sized room. Parts of it looked to be cobbled together from old clocks, turn-of-the-century cars, and pieces of Jules Verne's brain. Other parts consisted of rebar, brick, and weirdly molded plastic. It was like some weird steampunk Lego set that had been partially melted.

“The fuck is that?” Colin asked, ever tactful.

“That,” said Armand, and there was a note of pride in his tone, “is the machine that leveled Tunguska.”

“Please explain,” I asked, and he did.

C
hapter Eighteen

The first of us lived on the clay of the caves, and the blood of our brothers. The time came when we could no longer tolerate the light, because we had never emerged from the darkness.
—Codex of the Caves, Section III, lines 10-11

V
amps had known about the vampire stone for decades at a bare minimum, though centuries or even a millennium or two was probably more likely. For most of that time, they'd been trying to either find it, use it, destroy it, or duplicate it. The Tunguska facility's experiments fell into the category of duplicate it. A collection of the best vampire minds had converged on Tunguska to shove an alchemical mix of God only knew what into a machine that had been cobbled together from a variety of sources.

“Two of the men on the team claimed to have worked with Tesla. One had worked with Edison,” Armand said, spinning his story with the typical vampire penchant for namedropping.

“I bet they got along great,” I said dryly.

Colin snorted. Armand looked at me like he didn't get the joke.

“There are certain substances known to be damaging to vampires, as you know. The theory was that the proper combination of materials, exposed to electricity and distinct alchemical processes, would cause them to have the opposite effect.”

Alchemy. I shook my head vaguely. I guess it wasn't any crazier than most of the stuff I'd been doing—translating texts off clay tablets and drawing weird symbols on myself with Sharpies. If that worked, then why not alchemy?

“Like…actual alchemy?” Colin put in, an expression of intense skepticism creasing his face.

Armand straightened slightly. Offended, I thought. “We haven't gotten as far as turning lead into gold, if that's what you're asking, but yes, we have employed some principles of alchemy.”

“To make what, exactly?”

Armand led us closer to the huge contraption. As we approached, a low hum took over our surroundings, vibrating through the floor. It made the soles of my feet itch.

“As I said, our major focus has been recreating the vampire stone. Since the beginning, in about 1850, we've worked toward that goal, with varying levels of success.”

“Or numerous varieties of failure.” I elbowed Colin at that. No point antagonizing people here, especially since they didn't much want us around in the first place.

“Philosophically, it's the same thing.” Armand gave Colin a narrow look, then turned his gaze to me, as if asking what the hell I saw in this guy. I shrugged minutely. I still asked myself that question on occasion.

“Has anything worked?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation. Unfortunately, my tone came out a bit sharp, mostly because I was thinking about elbowing Colin again.

Armand considered his answer. “We have one product in particular that's quite promising. We call it Amp Juice. It allows vampires to walk in the daylight for extended periods.”

Colin's eyebrows shot up. “That does sound promising. Why isn't it all over the market?”

“There are a few side effects we're trying to sort out before it can go to market.”

“What kinds of side effects?”

“Loss of strength, reduction in some other natural powers. We're also trying to determine long-term effects before we submit a final product for evaluation. Right now we have it under lock and key—no one is allowed to use it.”

I nodded. Products aimed at vampires had to be FDA-approved just like everything else. Of course, the vampires had their own vetting processes, as well. I knew for a fact there were things on the market that had passed vampire oversight but lacked official FDA approval. Every once in a while, the human health departments stepped in and pulled items off shelves. Which, of course, did nothing to quash black-market sales.

My brain was circling another point, though, that being Gregor. He'd accosted me during the day, but hadn't threatened me. Side effects from this Amp Juice, something that reduced his strength, could explain that. It made sense. Under lock and key or not, I'd bet he'd been using it.

“How does this help us with Sebastian, though?” I asked.

“The principles underlying the production of the Amp Juice…” He stopped then, considering. “I think it would be best if we continued this conversation elsewhere.”

“Why?” Colin asked.

“Because there are others here better qualified to answer it. I've already arranged for us to meet in my office…” He glanced at the watch on his wrist. “…about now. Shall we?”

He gestured to the door behind us. With a last glance back at the strange contraption, I followed the others out into the corridor.

W
e returned to Armand's office, a long and uncomfortable walk. There were so many elephants in the room, I was surprised we could make our way around them all. I supposed they'd be addressed eventually, but for the moment, they made for a great deal of tension among us all.

More elephants joined us when we arrived. Armand led us not directly into his office but into a meeting room situated right next to it. Several other vamps were waiting for us, seated around the long table. I recognized the Cossack and the Asian who'd shadowed us on our way from the helicopter. And then I saw Gregor.

My feet skipped a step as I caught sight of him. Colin grabbed at my arm, steadying me.

“No worries,” I told him. “Just tripped on the carpet.”

It was a stupid way to word it, but Colin accepted it, probably because he knew I was completely capable of tripping on the carpet. I couldn't hide my reaction to seeing Gregor, though, and I knew it showed on my face. Gregor responded with a slight upward curve of one corner of his mouth. Colin's hand on my arm tightened ever so slightly, and I knew he'd seen the exchange. He probably understood it as well. I hoped so. I certainly couldn't explain it to him just yet.

Armand made introductions around the room. Apparently Gregor hadn't given me an alias. It also appeared the other vampires who were present knew who Colin, Roland and I were. We made ourselves comfortable around the meeting table.

“Luca,” said Armand to his assistant, who was standing near the door. “Drinks?”

Luca nodded and departed, returning a few minutes later with a tray of drinks, all of which appeared to be blood. It didn't look like they'd made any allowances for me. Not even sparkling water or a damn Diet Coke. Whatever. I watched them all choose glasses from the tray and tried not to glare at Gregor. I wanted to know what the fuck he was doing here, who the fuck he was, and why the fuck he'd trailed me across the goddamn planet. But it looked like I was going to have to wait.

When everyone was settled with their glasses of blood—except for me, of course—Roland pressed again for an answer to the question I'd posed in the laboratory. “You were explaining how this is going to work?”

“Yes.” Armand took another sip, then launched into his explanation. Free-floating molecules. Magic. Alchemy. Binding properties of carbon. We were to meet tomorrow at midnight. All would be prepared. All the necessary elements would be ready, and we'd turn on the machine.

“How do we know we have all the necessary elements?” Roland asked at one point.

Armand gave Roland the kind of smile that should have been accompanied with a pat on the head and a
Don't worry your pretty little head about it.
But he said, “I've consulted with our experts, who've been working on the various processes we have ongoing here. I'll deliver the work to you tonight so you can review it.”

“Thank you,” said Roland. I tried to get her to make eye contact with me, but she wouldn't. Armand continued with his explanation. Gregor took over at one point, talking about the remnants of the stone, how they had been vaporized and now made up part of the substance that was what we had left of Sebastian. He was more than just a spirit—he was sort of a vampire-stone gaseous suspension. All those tiny particles, suspended in air, had to be brought back together and re-bound into a living being.

About halfway through this part of the discourse, which was sounding more and more like they were making it up as they went, I glanced at Colin. He was taking it in, nodding. His gaze flicked to mine; he smiled a little and gave his glass a minuscule tip toward me.

Apparently he didn't get what I was finally understanding. This wasn't going to work. We'd come all this way chasing the vampire science/alchemy/magic/bullshit version of snake oil.

My heart sank like someone had put rocks in it.
Maybe you're wrong. Roland said it would work.

But I couldn't shake that feeling that we'd been strung along. Lied to. I settled my hand against the bottle that still hung at my hip, feeling the vague hum inside, and tried to decide if I wanted to stake a bitch or just cry.

I
didn't bring up my concerns with Colin. There was no point. We were going to go through with it regardless, on the increasingly slim chance it would work. So I kept my misgivings to myself. Roland didn't seem to share them. It occurred to me that she knew a great deal more about what was going on than I did, and that maybe I should trust her assessment. But I couldn't shake the feeling that everything we'd been through had been for nothing.

Eventually they took us to our room. It was small, but had two beds and an attached bathroom. What more could a girl want? Maybe a space heater, I thought. It was still chilly, and snuggling with Colin wasn't the solution, since he was more of a body-heat leacher than a giver.

Roland took the place in with a critical air, then set her back to the chest of drawers, resting the heels of her hands on the edge of it. “I'm going out,” she stated, belying her posture, which said more
I'm going to stand here and stare judgmentally at this shitty room
. “I'll be gone an hour, minimum.” Her gaze drifted toward me. “I want to be sure you get food when you need it, and it wouldn't hurt to warm this damn room up a little.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” I muttered, smiling wanly even though her ability to practically read my mind creeped me out more than a little.

She returned the smile a bit more warmly. “Hang in there. They're trying to make this as difficult as they can for us, but I'll be sure it works out. I promise.” She pushed away from the chest of drawers and moved toward the door. The look she gave Colin as she passed seemed overly intense. I wondered what it meant. Wasn't sure I wanted to know.

The door fell shut behind her. I waited a few long seconds for Colin to speak, but he said nothing, just brooded, his attention focused on the wall. Finally I ventured, “I'm cold.”

“I know,” he replied, but his voice was gentle. He shook his head once. “I shouldn't have brought you here.”

“I came of my own free will.” His insistence on taking credit—or blame—for everything that happened was starting to wear on me. I was a grownup. I had agency. “You need me. Sebastian needs me. This is exactly where I should be.”

He looked at me and held out a hand. “Come here.”

I did, moving to sit next to him on the bed. Wrapped in the thick coat, I could barely feel that he was next to me, even though I'd scooted close. Even when he laid his arm across my shoulders, I barely felt the weight of it through the fur.

“I can make you safer,” he said quietly. “Not safe, not a hundred percent, but safer.”

I turned to look at him, my vision partially blocked by my hat. This was ridiculous.

“How so?”

“I could mark you.”

“Mark me? Why?” It seemed to me he'd marked me plenty; I had several white scars on my neck where he'd bitten me during sex. They weren't ragged or ugly, and they were only visible if I was in the right light. Whether that was because Colin was careful or because of my experience with the stone, I didn't know.

“Fresh marks make a stronger statement,” he said. “They can see you've been claimed, and they can scent it was me who claimed you. But the most recent marks you have are at least what? A week or two old?”

I shrugged. “Something like that.”

“If I mark you now, tonight, it's a much clearer claim. You'll be safer.”

“I see. I think you just want an excuse to bite me.”

His mouth quirked. “I wouldn't put that past me.”

“Neither would I.” I looped my arms around his neck. “Well, let's get this over with, then.”

“Your enthusiasm flatters me.” Before I could try to out-sarcasm him, he kissed me.

I didn't really have a problem with the biting. I'd worried about it at first, mostly because I'd seen too many PSAs about bite junkies who ended up with horribly disfiguring scars all over their bodies. Sort of a “This is your body; this is your body on vampires,” kind of thing. In real life, I'd seen plenty of people who liked to be bitten, and most of them hadn't looked like they'd been put through a meat grinder, but I hadn't been able to shake those images.

Once Colin got his teeth into me, though, it was a whole different ballgame. By now, I was well and truly addicted.

He pushed his tongue past my lips, stroking the roof of my mouth and the backs of my teeth. I made a soft sound in the back of my throat. Colin was really good at sexing. There were times I swear I could have orgasmed just from his tongue in my mouth. Gently, I pushed back, reluctant to break the contact.

“What?” Colin asked, then realized what I was doing. I eased the bottle's carrier off my shoulder and set it carefully on the side table.

“God only knows what would happen if we broke that.” I patted the bottle gently, almost sad Sebastian couldn't join us anymore. Or maybe he could. I guess I'd find out.

Colin drew me back to him as soon as I'd settled the bottle. His kiss was harder this time, deeper. One hand slid to the small of my back, pressing me against him. His erection pressed against me through his jeans, hard and insistent. I went instantly hot and melty. His coolness against my heat—it was always a turn-on. Big time. I rubbed against him, feeling the rock-hard line, anticipating skin-to-skin contact. My hands moved to the small of his back then under his waistband, shoving his jeans down. Sadly, they only slid so far without undoing the snap and zipper. I could get my hands in there, though, clenching my fingers into the hard muscles of his ass. It seemed like forever since we'd done this. It hadn't been that long, but here at least we didn't have to worry about my parents hearing us. Or I didn't have to worry about it. Colin, as best I could tell, didn't give a flying fuck who heard. Or saw, for that matter.