henri dunn 01 - immortality cure (22 page)

“It will kill what I am,” he said sharply. He sat on the sofa, dejected. I knew exactly how he felt.

“Yes. But it won’t kill who you are.”

He looked at me as if I’d sprouted devil horns. “A vampire
is
who I am,” he said. “Perhaps I will get lucky and it will be the death serum after all.”

It was my turn to my roll my eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

We fell silent as the guards carried out Aidan’s body. It was limp in their grasp and sagged in the middle. Nothing but a bag of meat and bones and blue hair. Cazimir watched it go by and I couldn’t read his expression.

I stared at Cazimir. He looked so different in clothes that amounted to pajamas instead of his elaborate outfits.

“I have to go save Jake,” I said after a few moments. “If he’s alive to save.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Cazimir said. “Lark wants to put this whole thing past her. I cannot say I blame her.”

“I’ll be back,” I said.

“Do what you wish,” he said, but his voice wavered a little. I doubted he wanted to be alone, and I highly doubted he’d let any of the vampires witness what was about to happen to him, whichever way it went.

“Ten minutes,” I said, holding up both hands to show him all ten fingers. Then I made for the door.

A
CROWD
of people had slithered out of the cracks and filled the halls and the entryway on the first floor. Presumably they were waiting for news or some kind of announcement after seeing Aidan’s body go by. Bodies might not have been wholly uncommon here at Chez Industrial Dracula, but Aidan had been Cazimir’s right-hand mortal, and he’d lived here for over a decade. That was longer than most of the mortals probably had, judging by their youthful faces. His death was not business as usual, and whispers moved through the crowd like mosquitoes, buzzing from person to person.

Some of them gave me expectant looks, as if I were going to explain, but I didn’t stop to chat.

I pushed through, desperate to get to Jake, to save him before it was too late. Aidan had been the killer all along. Ray had probably gone out to sell his stock of Lemondrop when Alana wouldn’t take it, and unfortunately, he’d met Aidan. Aidan had killed Ray in cold blood like a spoiled child who hadn’t gotten what he’d wanted, and then he’d killed Thomas and murdered the two mortals with purpose. Jake had killed no one, as far as I knew. He hadn’t been among his pack mates in the attack on the lab. He was an innocent guy, so far. And if he was still alive, I was going to make damn sure he understood the importance of staying that way.

But if Jake died now, at the hands of Lark for murders he didn’t commit, it was my fault, and the last thing my mortal existence needed was the death of an innocent hanging over my head.

At the back of the crowd, I ran straight into Lark. She had had to have seen and heard me coming but stood there in my path anyway.

She looked so goddamn sad, it brought me up short. But the sadness eased out of her expression until it was carefully neutral again.

“Jake—” I started.

“Is innocent,” she finished. The present-tense use of “is” gave me hope. “I saw it in his blood. I let him go.”

“Oh.” It was more of a sound than a word, an exhalation that was part relief and part surprise.

My shock must have been obvious, because she explained, “Thomas would not have wanted me to kill an innocent in his name. I must respect that. I was coming to find you when I heard something had happened Cazimir’s favorite pet.”

I straightened and nodded, trying to protect the appearance of calm. My heart had been going at hummingbird speeds for so long, I was afraid it might wear out and stop altogether. “Aidan killed Thomas. He killed the mortals, too. And the scientist. It was all Aidan.”

Lark stared at me for a long moment and let out a sigh. “I knew that boy was unstable. Thomas did, too. Cazimir wouldn’t listen but we could tell. Some of them can’t take prolonged exposure to our kind. How is he?”

It took me a second to make the mental switch and realize she was asking after Caz, not Aidan.

A lump caught in my throat. I didn’t have a deep connection to Cazimir, and we had never been close, but exhaustion was lowering my shields. As the adrenaline ebbed, the weariness and lack of food in my system were catching up to me.

It took me a few swallows before I could speak enough to tell her what Aidan had done with the Cure.

“Shit,” she said. And then she headed upstairs to see him. I followed.

CHAPTER 23

A
n hour later, Cazimir was unconscious, but there were no boils or rashes on his pristine white skin. I told myself that was good. It meant it hadn’t been the wrong serum. His mortal doctor had come and stripped off Cazimir’s shirt to monitor the situation, and then we’d moved him to his bed. I pulled out my tin of mints and shoved a handful into my mouth. They burned, but that was nice. Feeling was nice. I was probably in shock. I was too tired to care.

Lark gave me a questioning look. I put the Altoids away without explanation.

“Can I ask … ?” I trailed off.

Lark figured it out. “He started breaking out pretty fast. I don’t think that’s going to happen to Cazimir.”

Relief washed over me. If you’d told me last month I’d be sick with worry about Cazimir de Roi, I’d have laughed in your face. But here I was. Life was full of the unexpected.

“How long did it take you to turn back?” she asked.

“Eighteen hours or so. It was rough. The worst of it was over in less. And it started pretty much like this, from what I remember.” I stared at Cazimir’s pale face, the skin almost translucent so you could see the little blue capillaries that snaked through his cheeks. “If it happens like it did for me, he’ll wake up soon and then the nausea will start. He’ll be mostly human by tomorrow afternoon and fully human by Monday.”

“God. What a sadistic fucking serum,” Lark said. “Why the hell did you help that scientist?”

I let out a long sigh. “I found Kate one night after she’d killed some innocent jogger. I wanted to help her. The scientist loved her.” I was careful to keep the pronoun “she” or Neha’s name out of it. I didn’t want them to think the person responsible for the Cure was still alive. Sean knew, but maybe he’d keep his mouth shut. Information was currency, after all, and Sean was careful when doling his out. “I wanted to help. Turns out, altruism gets you shot in the back.”

Lark shook her head, smiling. “And yet here you are, helping Caz. And you raced here to save Jake when you realized he wasn’t our guy.” She gave me a level look, a faint smile curving her lips upward. “Maybe helping people is in your nature. Maybe that’s why Sean chose you.”

“Maybe,” I said. With Sean, it could have been any number of reasons. The only thing that was sure was that he’d had a reason, because Sean never did anything without one. “It’s going to be a long night. And it’s going to get kind of gross.”

Lark nodded. “I imagine it will.” She took a seat on the remaining easy chair. The broken chair and chains had been swept away by the mortal security guards. I sat on the coffee table.

“By the way, that young man, Jake? His blood tasted funny.” She gave me a curious look, wanting me to explain.

I played dumb and didn’t respond. But suddenly I wondered what else she might have seen in his blood besides his innocence. Lark, too, would play her cards close to her chest. I had to hope she wasn’t holding an ace.

“You will explain that to me later,” she said, but she let it go for the time being and we resumed our vigil over Cazimir’s unmoving form.

Lark left just before the sun rose, while the doctor made sure the steel shutters came down over the windows in Cazimir’s room. I stole her spot on the easy chair.

Exhaustion won out over the duties of the deathwatch, and I nodded off. Ignoble, I know, but a human body can only take so much before it forces itself to reset, and I’d had one hell of a week. Sleep was fitful and full of disjointed dreams. When I woke up, my mouth was dry from hanging open and my throat hurt. The acrid smell of vomit and blood curled up my nostrils.

The room was dark save for three recessed lights over the bed, the metal shutters keeping all light from outside at bay. The doctor and Lark were both gone. I grabbed my phone out of my purse. It was past noon. I’d slept for at least seven hours, maybe longer. How late had it been when Aidan had died? I didn’t know.

Cazimir was in the bed in front of me. He was awake. His face was drawn and he looked uncomfortable, his skin sallow instead of the white sheen of an immortal. He gave me a hard look.

“My death is boring to you?” he asked. He quirked up his lips into a smile. His fangs were gone.

I gasped.

He licked his teeth. “I know. It’s awful. I have no idea how to work my mouth.” He shifted his jaw around.

“You’re alive.” I stood and walked to his bedside. I took his wrist in my hand. His skin was cool and clammy but not the lifeless cool of the undead. I felt for a pulse. Vampires have pulses, of course, especially after drinking a lot of blood. The vampire heart beats, just with blood other than its own. But this pulse was quick and frantic, a heart struggling for life. This was the pulse of a human being. “Holy shit.”

He pulled his arm away. “If I weren’t a coward, I’d ask you to end my life here and now and never let anyone else know the truth of how I died.”

“It’s a good thing you’re a coward, then, because I sure as shit am not killing anyone when I’m finally free of murder charges.”

He smiled. It was awkward, like he didn’t know how to move his lips without fangs. My heart lurched. I knew exactly how disorienting that felt. How awful to have so much of yourself ripped away and to be left to relearn so many things people took for granted. How to eat, how to talk, how to hold up the meat bag that was your heavy, pulsing, needy human body.

My back and neck were stiff from sleeping in the chair. My shoulder throbbed when I moved it and my jaw ached where Aidan had punched me. I probably had a bruise the size of the Space Needle blooming across my face.

“I—” He stopped, swallowed back bile, and shook his head. “This is unpleasant.”

I snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

“How long until it stops?”

“Assuming you mean the nausea and body aches and dizziness, another eight to ten hours. The being human part never stops being mildly unpleasant, I’m afraid.”

“I won’t be human for long,” Cazimir said. “Someone will—” He clamped his mouth shut and pulled the bucket to his mouth before vomiting again. This time it was white and foamy. He sat up and got out of bed slowly, making his way to the bathroom with the bucket.

I waited, realizing I needed to use the bathroom myself. And I needed water. And coffee. And—my stomach growled to remind me—some breakfast. The whole gamut of never-ending human needs. A toilet flushed. The sink ran. Caz appeared and I took my turn.

When I came out, still feeling grimy and desperate for a shower, Cazimir was back in the bed. It was so strange to see him weakened, with bags under his eyes and sweat beading on his upper lip and forehead as fever ravished his body.

“I’m glad it was the Cure, and not the serum that killed Thomas.” It felt insufficient and so devoid of anything that actually needed to be said.

“I am trying to determine whether I’m glad of that,” he said.

“Caz, you saw how horrible—”

“It would not have been the death I’d have chosen for myself, Henri, but sometimes death is better.”

“That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re alive. Look, I know how shitty it feels to have your powers and strength and invincibility torn away from you. But it’s not all bad. I mean, we can see the sun.”

Cazimir’s eyes widened. Clearly that hadn’t occurred to him. He opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a remote. He entered a series of buttons, probably a security code, and then the metal shutters rose. It was gray out and raindrops splashed across the windows. That’s Seattle for you: never providing the sun when it’s needed for a dramatic moment. All the same, Cazimir got to his feet and stumbled around the bed to the window. He reeled back as the pale daylight touched his skin.

“Might want to wait until the transformation’s complete, there, buddy,” I said.

Caz shot me a “not amused” look and then turned back to the window, hanging back only a foot or so.

He stared out at the world in daylight, something he hadn’t seen in hundreds of years. I stepped over to look out over Pioneer Square. I could see the gray waters of Puget Sound in the distance.

Cazimir was silent and still, almost like his vampire self. I glanced over and I swear I saw the glint of a tear on his cheek. He rubbed his eyes. I remember how mine had hurt upon seeing daylight for the first time. “It takes a while to adjust to the brightness,” I told him. “But it’s pretty great, isn’t it?”

He didn’t respond for a long moment. Finally, he said, “It might be enough.”

CHAPTER 24

^“
O
kay, seriously, this is the fourth order you’ve botched,” Max said, giving me a side-eye as I stood at the line, asking for a refire on the salmon. It wasn’t supposed to be walnut-crusted. The customer had ordered it with the lemon-butter glaze and I’d grabbed the wrong plate. Luckily it was the kind of fix I could ask the cooks for, rather than going through Eric the Manager, who’d already voided an app I’d forgotten to bring to table six, a dessert I’d forgotten we’d 86’d before pressing “order,” and a cocktail I’d misrung for table ten. If I had to pass any more mistakes through him, I’d get some lecture on focus and the expected level of “Le Poisson service.”