Authors: Nell Stark
Someone grabbed the back of my jacket and hauled me across the floor. Over the ringing in my ears I heard a loud grinding sound from above and then the whirr of rotor blades displacing air. My left leg burned as I was dragged up some kind of ramp and then dumped onto a metal floor. When I tried to take stock of my surroundings, my blurred vision sent nausea spiraling through my gut. Was I in the chopper? Where were they taking me? Why hadn’t they simply killed me? And where was Alexa? Was she safe?
The sensation of rising. Ears popping. Low, guttural voices speaking…what? Some kind of Eastern European language, maybe? The pain lashed at my body like a riptide, pulling me under only to toss me back onto the jagged shore of consciousness. Bloodied and broken, curled into a ball with my injured leg awkwardly outstretched, I could retain no sense of time. Whether minutes or hours had passed before we began to descend, I couldn’t tell.
When the chopper finally touched down, its landing jarred me and a groan escaped before I could seal my lips against it. Again, I was seized and dragged along the ground. Every inch forward was a world of agony, and I clenched my teeth to stop myself from betraying any weakness.
Only when my captors halted did I dare to open my eyes. I was lying on my back on some kind of gravel surface, out under the night sky. Hulking shadowy figures stood in a ring around me, but I was unable to focus on their faces.
All I could think was that I didn’t want to die like this. I would not let them have the satisfaction of defeat. I would not quit. I would not lie down. Fighting through the pain and nausea, I pushed myself up on one knee, determined to fight. The dark forms above me laughed.
Their ranks parted, and a man stepped into the middle of the circle to loom over me. I couldn’t see his eyes, but his smile was cruel, and in one hand he held a gun.
“I’ve waited a long time to make your acquaintance, Valentine,” he said.
A flash of pain struck my temple, streaking across my battered consciousness like a deadly comet. And then my world went dark.
My head reverberated with sound, light, and heat. Through the painful din, I struggled to latch on to something, anything that would anchor me in the maelstrom. Flames. I remembered flames—the fire from the spotter plane’s crash along the lakeshore. The freezing water. Gunfire in the hangar. A spear of agony in my leg. The cruel face looming above me.
I was alive. Badly injured, but alive.
When I opened my eyes, the light pierced into my brain like nails and the room spun in a blur, driving bile up into my mouth. Slamming my eyelids shut, I swallowed quickly and focused on taking slow, rhythmic breaths until the nausea subsided. Wherever Brenner was keeping me, the air had a stale and antiseptic taste to it that reminded me of every hospital I’d been in. But I couldn’t rely solely on my sense of smell to gather enough information for me to figure out how to escape. Taking another few deep breaths, I opened my eyes to take in the barest sliver of my scenery.
Whiteness was all that greeted me, as though I’d been plunged into some kind of evanescent fog. Carefully, I opened my eyes even further, but either my vision was blurred or the room actually was shrouded in a deep mist. My stomach roiled and I counted to twenty before attempting anything more. After what felt like hours, I had finally regained a full field of vision, but the world was still blurry—due, I was sure, to the head trauma I’d endured from Brenner and his men.
I tried to sit up and choked violently as something hard and cold struck my windpipe. It felt like a band of metal, and it was suspended inches above my neck. Coughing made the roaring heat in my head echo louder, and I struggled to regain my steady breathing. I was a captive. That was the only certainty. I had to be patient and learn what Brenner had done to me—to think through the pain so I could escape and return to Alexa.
The white ceiling was broken only by an oval fluorescent lamp. With excruciating slowness, I moved my head as far as I could—only an inch either way—and shifted my eyes to each side. Whiteness everywhere. I flexed my fingers, then my toes. Beneath the dull pounding in my brain, I felt each digit. No damage to my spine, then. Like my neck, my limbs were held to the table by unyielding bands. My arms were stretched perpendicular to my body, and my thighs had been spread wide. I was naked, vulnerable, and open. My wounded leg throbbed, and renewed nausea churned in my stomach as I wondered whether I would feel other kinds of pain when the headache finally subsided.
Panic welled up to fill the ache in my chest, but as my heart began to race, the pressure in my head grew even worse. I had to remain calm, or I would be of no use to anyone. To distract myself, I exercised my intellect. Brenner needed Tian to complete that infernal experiment on the parasite, but what did he want with me? He had tried to assassinate me on three separate occasions, but if he wanted me dead, why hadn’t he ordered his soldiers to kill me on sight? They’d had plenty of chances, and so had he.
But the longer I lay there, bound and helpless, the more my logical brain struggled to keep the panic at bay. Thirst burned in my throat, and though I knew that was my body’s natural reaction to being injured, it only increased my sense of claustrophobia. Did Brenner plan to keep me here, bound and helpless, until my appetite drove me insane? Would he gloat over me as I slowly starved to death? Or worse—what if, when my sanity had fled, he offered me a human victim? Would I be able to keep my promise to Alexa and resist the needs of the parasite?
Deep down, I knew that in such a desperate case, she would feel only sympathy and compassion. She would want me to feed. I could practically hear her voice soothing me, telling me that we would be all right. Reminding me that she had brought me back once and could do it again. But I didn’t want her to have to say those things. I wanted to be stronger than my appetite, strong enough to uphold the vows I’d sworn both to her and to myself. For now, I had to find a way to sublimate my thirst—to transform it into a motivating force and not a crippling one.
But as time passed—whether in minutes or hours, I had no way of knowing—the roaring in my head was eclipsed by body-wracking shivers that jammed my windpipe against the metal ring. I coughed uncontrollably, tears running down my cheeks to plink onto the metal slab that was my prison. Had Brenner given me something to send me into these paroxysms? Or were they simply my nervous system’s reaction to the trauma and stress? Flashes of heat and cold surged beneath my skin like electrical currents, and dimly I wondered whether I was becoming feverish. Within moments, a layer of sweat had coated my limbs and was trickling down onto the table. Closing my eyes, I fought to keep my muscles loose and relaxed.
Mercifully, the trembling finally subsided. The sharp waves of pain in my head refused to let me sleep, but for a while I found myself able to drift somewhere between consciousness and oblivion. And then a door opened, sending discernable eddies through the air current. The reverberation of heavy footsteps on a bare floor increased the throbbing in my head. Even as my senses strained for some clue about my visitor, I stared straight up, mouth set in a grim line. No matter who it was, I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing anything resembling fear or uncertainty.
A broad finger dipped into my navel, and I barely managed to suppress a shudder. The foreign touch moved slowly up until it came to a halt between my breasts. Brenner’s smiling face entered my field of vision, and my lip curled in disgust as his features swam in and out of focus.
“Valentine Darrow.” His voice was jovial. “You have been such a thorn in my side. And now, look at you.”
I held his gaze and my tongue, vowing to remain unbroken no matter what he did to me. When he left my field of view and began to pace the length of the room, my every muscle tensed, dreading the return of his touch.
“You’ve been lying here for several hours,” he said conversationally, as though we were discussing the weather. “I offered you to my soldiers—both the men and the women. Not a single one of them wanted anything to do with you. How does it feel, Valentine, to be so utterly repulsive that no one will so much as
rape
you?”
I wanted to laugh in his face. Only a genocidal psychopath would consider that an insult. Abruptly, he loomed over me again, his smile even wider.
“On the other hand, I’m sure they’ll have no such compunctions about your lover. When the time comes, I promise you’ll have a front row seat.”
I spat in his face, but he had expected it and dodged easily. Despite my vow not to show any emotion, I didn’t regret what I’d done. Never, ever would I let him or his cronies touch Alexa. I would find a way to stop him, no matter the cost.
“But perhaps by then, your priorities will have changed,” he continued. “Soon, you will become part of my little experiment. Once I’m done with you, you may not care about your precious Alexa at all. I really must thank you for allowing me to kill two birds with one stone, as it were.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, and the question must have shown in my expression. He laughed again.
“Are you really so ignorant? Since the Consortium rushed to protect Tian, I can only assume that you’re aware of the modified parasite and how it can be engineered. I stole six samples—true. But the Sunrunner variant was not the only missing piece of the puzzle.”
Epiphany dawned like a bomb blast. The sample from the blood prime of the Missionary clan had been from my predecessor, René, whom Brenner had killed. It was useless. Brenner needed blood from me to complete the experiment—blood that, I was certain, he had already collected. Frustration lashed through me like a lightning storm, and I ground my sharpened teeth together.
“Once we have successfully engineered the hybrid parasite, you’ll have the distinction of becoming a lab rat. Apparently, breeding this parasite in the circulatory system of a blood prime will fix it in its current form. So even if I do kill you, or that Sunrunner cunt, this specimen will continue to function.” He bared his teeth in a smile. “Incidentally, Helen’s notes suggest that the infection process is exquisitely painful. My words, not hers.”
I could barely comprehend his gloating. My brain spun wildly, refusing to process his sinister promise. In craving the blood of vampires, I would be doomed to hunt them down until they were extinct. And then I would die of starvation.
“That expression on your face is priceless, Valentine. Pity I don’t have a camera.” Brenner’s footsteps retreated. “In the meantime, I haven’t yet decided whether I’ll move you into more humane facilities, or let you piss all over yourself on this table like the vermin you are. In the meantime, enjoy contemplating your fate.”
And then he was gone.
*
Time passed. At least, that’s what I told myself. The light never changed, and no sound penetrated into the room. I had no way of marking the hours, and after a while, I caught my psyche trying to play tricks on my rational mind.
Maybe you’ve always been here, it whispered. Maybe Alexa was only a dream. Or wishful thinking. Or a figment of your imagination. Maybe you died in the lake, or at the hands of Brenner’s soldiers. Maybe this is hell, and your mother was right after all.
Once I realized that I was on the cusp of hallucination, I fought back with Descartes. I think, therefore I am. I exist. I can remember the chain of events that brought me here, and one day, I will escape. Alexa is still alive, and I will find her. We will bring Brenner to justice and then we will live out the rest of eternity together, at peace in each other even if the world itself goes up in flames.
I had to keep my brain sharp and my psyche strong. Forcing my thoughts back in time, I sifted through my memories of Alexa, desperate to cling to every sensual detail. To anchor myself to her even as oblivion threatened from within and without.
Suddenly, the cogs of my mind caught and latched onto my memory of our second date—of the moment when I had finally been convinced that my growing fascination with her was not one-sided. She had put me through my paces on that day, but for as long as I lived, I would never forget how strong she had made me feel. Even if I lost all sanity, some part of me would remember. I had to believe it…
The Niagra was exceptionally busy on the second day of the new year. New York City was still overrun by tourists, and the unseasonably warm weather meant that everyone was out and about. The bar was packed, and all the newcomers wanted elaborate mixed drinks. My arms were in great shape, but by eleven o’clock, soreness had crept into my muscles. And the crowd showed no signs of diminishing. In a rare lull just prior to midnight, I finally managed to gulp down water and check my phone. I had one text, and when I saw the name attached, my pulse skyrocketed.
Central park, Columbus Circle entrance. Tomorrow, 10 a.m. Dress to run.
At first, I thought she might have sent the message to the wrong person, but then I realized I didn’t care. Except for one brief, fairly formal thank you e-mail the day after our elaborate dinner date almost a week ago, Alexa had been silent. I had replied with an open invitation to go out in the future but had heard no response. Now, apparently, I had a date tomorrow. Whether the text had been intended for me or not.
As I jogged up the stairs leading out of the subway the next morning, I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes to spare, though I had a feeling Alexa liked to be early. Sure enough, once I made my way to the park entrance I saw her stretching out her quads near the main gate. She wore a light blue windbreaker, and she’d pulled her red hair back into a long ponytail. Black leggings clung to her muscular thighs and sculpted calves, and she effortlessly maintained her balance even as she switched legs. Quite simply, she was breathtaking.