Cursed fs-1 Page 21

  Zack takes my hand in his. I feel something cool and round press into it. His expression gives away nothing.

  “Be careful.”

  I give him a reassuring smile as I discreetly slide my hand into my pocket. “Always.”

  Zack closes the door once I pass through and I lock it between us, leaning my head against it for an instant before a voice at my ear whispers in silky smoothness, “If you wanted to be alone with me, all you had to do is ask.”

  Kallistos.

  He’s behind me. Right behind me. So close, I feel the pulse of his breath against my neck.

  The man has no respect for personal space. My spine stiffens. I turn to face him, push him away. The door is now at my back.

  He steps close again, leans over me, one arm poised over my head. “That door won’t hold him. He can hear us, you know. Are you trying to purposefully drive your wolf wild?”

  “What I’m trying to do is find out how honest you are. How noble your intentions.” I keep my voice steady, the tone professional.

  Kallistos lowers his hand, draws a finger along the contours of my face, my lips, as if he’s going to touch them. But he doesn’t. “My intentions are quite dishonorable, I can assure you.”

  He’s not talking about Dexter and we both know it.

  “What I wouldn’t give to possess this mouth,” he whispers, finger still poised over my lips. “Along with the rest of you.”

  I push the finger away. “You presume far too much, Mr. Kouros. You have nothing I want.”

  “Oh no? I can give you what you crave, what you need. Anything you desire, save my heart. I made that mistake once. I can guarantee you, I will never make it again. We could have decades, centuries of pure, uncomplicated pleasure. No. Strings. Attached.”

  “I’ve been alive long enough to know there are always strings.” I duck under his arm, moving away.

  Kallistos smiles. “I make you nervous.”

  “Actually, you’re making me impatient. We’re wasting time.” I gesture to Dexter, still and pale on the bed. “If you aren’t going to help him, we need to get him to a hospital.”

  He spreads his arms wide. “Let’s get on with it, then. You’re here to ensure that I’m not going to harm the human. Use your power to test me. You’ll find you can trust me. You’ll taste the truth in my statement.”

  We move to stand on opposite sides of the room, the bed containing an unconscious Michael Dexter between us. Suddenly my conviction wavers. I have never tested the powers of one so powerful. Am I about to test Kallistos, or is he about to test me? Is he counting on me to walk away rather than to risk our mutual exposure, or is he goading me into giving him what he wants, a glimpse of the real me? He knew a Siren once, my sister. He knows the danger, yet he invites me in. Why?

  Kallistos’ gaze is haughty, as if he knows the battle I’m fighting, as if he expects me to back down. I draw myself up, remember that I bested him just minutes before, and let the walls fall away, the doors to my power fly open. It happens in a rush, fast and furious. The heat rises around us, the wind that comes with it rages. It would knock a lesser vampire off his feet. Kallistos stands tall, feet firmly planted on the floor. The hem of his leather coat whips out behind him.

  “What do you plan to do to him?” I shout out over the din of the storm I’ve created.

  “I’m going to give him blood. To stabilize him. To cure him. He will no longer need a hospital.”

  “Why would you do this for a human you do not know?”

  I imagine he finds me impertinent, perhaps even insulting. So be it. There are things at stake that are more important than smoothing the feathers of a self-appointed sovereign.

  But if he’s insulted, he doesn’t show it. “Because I gave you my word. You said he wasn’t at fault and . . . you’re attached to him. Yes?”

  I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes. “And when he is cured? What happens then?”

  “My men will see him safely home. He’ll remember none of this. I have no more desire than you to risk exposure.” His tone is surprisingly calm and measured, with no hint of deceit.

  Then he’s right in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, his eyes boring into mine. “Why hide who you are?” he whispers. “You could rule the world with your beauty, possess anything in it, anything but me.”

  “That’s convenient,” I mutter with a roll of my eyes. “Since I don’t want you. Now, getting back to Dexter—”

  My breath catches midsentence. Kallistos’ movements are a blur. One hand behind my neck, the other moves to cup the side of my face. For an instant our eyes lock. I feel my heart beat faster.

  Then his mouth is on mine. Hard, hot, and demanding. His lips part, his tongue slides inside my mouth. Something ignites. I feel myself relent, feel my heart beat faster, feel my blood turn to fire. I want to return the kiss and for the briefest moment, before I come back to my senses, I do. Wantonly. Wickedly. With uncontrolled abandon.

  “Stop.” I wrench control back, reeling in my power more swiftly than ever before. I swear the air is momentarily sucked out of the room. The surge is so strong I’m caught in it. I feel myself stagger back, light-headed, dizzy.

  Kallistos doesn’t move.

  I raise my hand, intent on slapping the smug look right off his face.

  He thwarts me, grabbing hold of my wrist.

  “Emma? Are you all right?” Zack’s voice through the door seems far away, distant.

  I shake my head to clear it. Kallistos releases me. He makes no move to stop me as I turn to the door and fumble with the lock. But before I can open it, my legs momentarily give way. A strong arm encircles my waist and holds me steady.

  “Breathe,” he says.

  My cheek is pressed against something hard and cool.

  Kallistos’ chest.

  “It’s been far too long since you’ve so fully let it go.” His lips graze the top of my head. “You’ve grown unused to it. Just ride it out. You’ll be right as rain in a minute. Assure your wolfhound.”

  “I’m fine, Zack.” The words fall unbidden from my lips. Kallistos is in my head. How can this be?

  I move away, put distance between the vampire and myself until my head stops spinning. This time when I speak, it’s on my own. I face Kallistos. “Take care of Dexter.”

  Then I turn my back on him, step again to the door. My hands are shaking, but when I try this time, the door opens. There’s a blast of cool air. Then Zack’s arms are around me. I lean into him.

  “What happened?” Zack asks.

  “He told the truth. He won’t harm Dexter.” My words sound hollow. I can’t meet Zack’s eyes.

  Zack lifts my chin. “I meant what happened to you.”

  One of Dexter’s monitors begins to beep. It’s been disconnected. His IV lines have also been pulled out. They’re draped over the bedside pole, contents from the bags drip onto the floor.

  Kallistos holds his wrist to Dexter’s mouth. The smear of blood on his lower lip tells me he punctured his wrist with his own fangs. Dexter sucks hungrily at the blood, a reflex action over which he has no control. Kallistos strokes Dexter’s hair as he feeds, watching me.

  When color returns to Dexter’s face, Kallistos calls out, “Tony!”

  One of the two who came in with him comes to the door. “Yes, sir?”

  “The data?” Kallistos asks.

  “It’s all backed up on a server. Peter has control of it. There are a few handwritten notes. I have them boxed and ready to go.”

  Dexter’s eyes are closed, but his throat is still working. Kallistos gently disengages Dexter’s mouth from his wrist, then passes a hand over Dexter’s face. Dexter falls back onto the pillows, his face relaxed in sleep. Kallistos’ wounds close instantly, but not before leaving several bright red dots on the clean white bedsheets.

  Kallistos turns to Tony. “Use the van to take him home. Wait for him to come to, then make him forget what happened here.”

  The minion nods and steps t
oward the bed.

  Kallistos exits and walks past Zack and me. He stops in front of the sink Zack used earlier and washes the remnants of blood from his wrist. He’s talking over his shoulder. “Make sure you take the notes with you, Tony. Security is the priority. We don’t want any loose ends.”

  “Understood,” Tony answers.

  Tony and his crony go to work, following orders like good little soldiers. Within seconds they are heading out, one with Dexter wrapped in a sheet and thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the other carrying a box.

  Kallistos approaches, the paper towels he used to dry his hands now wadded into a tight little ball. Without breaking his stride he lobs it across the room and into a trash can. “We’ll clean the rest of this up. You’ve done enough.” He offers Zack his hand. Any animosity he felt toward Zack seems forgotten.

  Zack’s animosity obviously isn’t.

  “His intentions are honorable,” I tell Zack. I’d tasted the truth of Kallistos’ statement. And his power. The effect lingers like a shot of adrenaline. I try to push it out of my head. I look around. “We could use the help, Zack.”

  Zack peers at me, but he knows how limited our options are. He’s frowning reluctantly, but he nods. The two men shake.

  Then Kallistos kisses my hand.

  The sensation of his mouth on my hand lingers, warm and wet.

  Revulsion tightens the lines around Zack’s mouth. He takes a step forward.

  I stay him with a look that conveys Kallistos isn’t worth it. We have our own loose ends to wrap up. Alan Pierce and Davis Mager. Mager can wait a bit, but Alan is still handcuffed to the radiator in his office. We need to get back and release him.

  “We should get out of here,” I say.

  “Go. I will deal with this,” Kallistos assures us.

  Zack isn’t ready to let go of his anger. “How are you—”

  But Kallistos has Zack locked in his gaze. “Go.”

  Zack backs away. A rush of anger sends blood to my face. Kallistos is compelling Zack and he is powerless against it. At the same time, I know it’s useless to object. We have to get back to Alan.

  We leave Kallistos kneeling by Dr. Pierce’s body.

  Once outside, I breathe in the fresh air. It clears my head and stops the pounding of a heart still racing from the encounter with Kallistos. I may be the stronger one when it comes to mind games, but he left an imprint of his power etched deep in my psyche.

  “Are you sure about him?” Zack asks me as we slide into the car.

  “Yes,” I say. There’s no hesitation. Still . . .

  Zack fires up the engine.

  Before he can pull away, I put out a hand to stop him. “Wait a second.” Someone is emerging from the building, coughing and sputtering. A man I’ve never seen before. He’s heavyset, in his forties, maybe fifties, and dressed in a uniform. The logo on his collar is the same as the one on the sign out front. He’s on his cell phone “Look.” I point him out to Zack. “Must be the security guard. Can you hear what he’s saying?”

  Zack lowers his window and listens.

  Just then, Kallistos strolls out. His car is waiting for him across the street. He ignores the man on the sidewalk, walks right past him, just as the man ignores him. But then he nods toward the guard and winks before crossing to his car.

  “Son of a bitch,” Zack growls.

  He reaches for the door handle.

  I reach for him. “What is it?”

  Zack points to the man on the phone. “He’s saying there’s a gas leak. Kallistos is going to blow up the goddamned lab.”

  The man takes off at a slow run and starts jogging down the street, away from the building.

  Kallistos’ car pulls away. If the speed in which he is making his departure is any indication, we don’t have much time.

  I tighten my grip on Zack’s arm. Kallistos’ wink as he passed the guard suddenly makes sense. “You can’t go in there!”

  “People could get hurt. Humans, Emma.”

  “He said there were only four heartbeats. Yours, mine, Dexter’s, and that guy must be the fourth. The building’s clear.”

  Zack points to the adjacent ones on either side. “Those may not be. This is far from foolproof. There’s going to be collateral damage.”

  He’s right, of course. I look around. The entire area is a blend of new and old construction. An explosion and fire down here could quickly get out of control. But there’s no way we can stop it now.

  “We need to put some distance between us and the building fast,” I say.

  Zack is shaking with fury. “Letting him handle the cleanup was a bad call. What the hell were we thinking? Call 911. Tell them to get an emergency crew here. Jesus, Emma. We’re going to need a good story.”

  Zack throws the car into gear and steps on the gas. The car lurches forward.

  I grab my cell and dial.

  It rings once.

  We drive past the security guard, huffing and puffing.

  It rings again. The emergency operator answers. I give her my name and badge number. “We’re in front of a medical building on the corner of Fourth and Hawthorn. Send emergency vehicles right away. The building’s about to—”

  An explosion drowns out the rest. The force of it pushes us forward. I feel the rear tires of the Suburban lift off the ground. The cell phone flies out of my hand and onto the floor. We spin. Somehow Zack prevents us from flipping. When the car comes to a stop, we’re facing the building. Car alarms are going off all around us, and rooftops are covered with the glass that rained down upon them from the nearby buildings. A fire hydrant in front of the building is spewing water into the street. The man who called in the “gas leak” is lying facedown on the blacktop. Zack takes off at a full run in his direction. I search frantically for the cell phone, find it. I’m still connected to the emergency operator.

  “There are people injured. Send help right away,” I shout. Then I disconnect and race to follow Zack.

  The man is unconscious, and there’s a small pool of blood under his head. Zack’s crouched alongside him.

  “Is he alive?”

  Zack nods, but his expression is murderous. “No thanks to Kallistos. Fucking vampire.”

  I turn in a circle, take in the devastation around us. There are sirens in the background. They’re getting closer.

  Zack reaches for my hand. He pulls me forward. Plucks a piece of glass out of my forehead that I didn’t even notice was there. “You okay? Your head hit the side window pretty hard.”

  My knees buckle. The adrenaline surge is wearing off. He steadies me.

  “I’m okay,” I say.

  He lifts my chin until my eyes connect with his. “Listen to me. This may be the only opportunity we have to get our story straight. We were introduced to Barbara Pierce at the fund-raiser. She seemed off. Toward the end of the night she approached, told us she had something important for the FBI, begged us to come to her office. There was a paranoid flavor about her, a sense of desperation. Then she disappeared into the crowd. We tried to follow her, but couldn’t. Are you with me?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “We got her address this morning, went to her office. She was completely unraveled. Said she couldn’t live with what she was doing any longer. She confessed to killing Charlotte, gave up Davis Mager and his scheme, admitted to harvesting organs from dozens of homeless. She said she wanted to show us. She opened the panel leading to her lab. She went ahead of us, slipping through a door and locking us out. You can describe the lab just as it was.”

  “We would have tried to go after her,” I say.

  “We did. She knew exactly what she was doing. Along one wall were rows of tanks. Some were clearly labeled oxygen. Others were marked with unfamiliar letters and symbols. Pierce opened the valves on all of them. Then she held up a lighter.”

  The sirens are getting closer. Zack’s voice is sounding farther and farther away.

  He continues. I’m desperately
trying to follow. “She yelled for us to go. To get Mager. To tell people that in the end she did the right thing. I started to break the glass, to try to get to her. But she was determined. It was save ourselves or die in the blast. We ran and called for help.”

  I can barely hear him now. Darkness is closing in from all sides.

  Zack is shaking me. “Emma? Emma?”

  It’s the last thing I remember.

  CHAPTER 23

  My head spins. I feel Zack’s arms around me as he lowers me to the ground and calls for help. By the time the paramedic is at my side, the darkness has receded and I’ve shaken myself back to full consciousness. I sit up, waving the guy away. “I’m fine. Tend to the guard.”

  Zack is protesting that I get checked out. But the paramedic shines a light in first one eye and then the other and stands up. “Someone’s with the guard.” He’s speaking to Zack about me. “Her pupils are equal in size and reacting to light. Still, she lost consciousness. We should get her to a hospital.”

  “I’m not going to a hospital. The guard, he’s going to make it?”

  “Looks like it. We’re lucky he was the only one seriously hurt.” He looks down at me, then up at Zack again. “If she gets nauseated, dizzy, get her to an ER, okay?”

  But his words barely register as I try to get my head around all that’s happened.

  I can’t believe the mess this case has turned into. I’ve worked missing persons in the San Diego FBI office for six years now. This isn’t the first time I’ve come across a supernatural element in need of containment. In those other rare instances, justice was served and the fantastical easily buried. Yes, the link to the vampires needed to be covered up. But for Kallistos to blow up the place? I think of the guard, lying injured in the street. What the hell was he thinking?

  “We should take you to a hospital,” Zack is still insisting.

  My head is pounding; my shoulders and neck muscles are clenched so tight that it hurts to turn toward him. Still, I do, even managing to shake my head—carefully. “No hospital. I’ll be fine.” And I will be. Whatever injuries I might have, I won’t die from them. Thousands of years and more than a few bumps and bruises testify that I know my body. Besides, there’s something more urgent we need to do than take what would be a wasted trip to a hospital. “We’ve got to get back to Alan. It’s been close to two and a half hours.”