Night's Cold Kiss (27 page)

Then she came upon a book that stopped her dead in her tracks. It was leather bound, old, and very familiar, much like one she’d seen recently in her uncle’s trailer. It even had the same crest on the spine. She pulled it down off the shelf. The crest emblazoned the cover as well, just like the one her uncle had, but instead of having the initials NP it had EP.

When she opened the first page, she found out why; it belonged to Emil Petrescu—the traitor. She couldn’t read most of it because it was written in the language of her Romanian ancestors—though she could speak it well enough to understand her uncle, she just couldn’t read it.

An alarm close by burst into life and she dropped the book.

Dante.

She spun and stopped dead, her blood freezing.

He stood in the doorway watching her. “I was hoping to spend some more time with you, but this is better than I could’ve wished for.”

“Lucian’s security will be here in a minute,” Antoinette said, her initial surprise dissipating. She’d known he would come, had been waiting for it.

His cruel laughter shattered her confidence a sliver. Yet she was different now. Stronger than before. He’d almost killed her once, but she wouldn’t let him hurt anyone in this house. She may only be a fledgling Aeternus to his decades or centuries, but she had something most other newly embraced didn’t. Her Venator training.

As he calmly walked forward, she crouched low, preparing to strike. She couldn’t just rush him—it’d give away her advantage. No, she must wait for him to make to first move.

Her new-found confidence must’ve surprised him a little. He stopped and tilted his head to the side, examining her more closely. His overconfident smile, meant to unnerve, slipped a little.

Footsteps rang out in the hall, coming toward the library,
and Dante turned toward the sound as Lucian entered the room.

“Lu—” was all Dante managed to get out before Lucian shot him.

The insane Aeternus dropped like a stone and lay unmoving a few feet away. Lucian shot him again.

Antoinette unfolded tense muscles and rushed to hug Lucian. “Thank God, you’re okay.”

She moved to squat beside Dante and felt his pulse, which beat slow and steady under her fingertips.

Good.
She really wanted the bastard to pay for what he’d done.

“He’s still alive,” she said without looking up.

“I know,” Lucian replied in a flat tone.

Something slammed into her shoulder, throwing her backward. A chill swept down her arm and spread through the rest of her body. She slumped to the floor and her vision faded.

Antoinette opened her eyes. She was still lying on the library floor and tried to get up. Nothing moved. She willed her legs to shift. Zilch—not even a twitch of her toes. She tried to place her hands against the wall to lever herself up. Again nothing. Her arms lay still, disobeying her mind, just like the rest of her body. Panic rose in her throat, threatening to choke her.

What’s happening to me?
Maybe it was some kind of side effect from her transition.

The butler lumbered toward her.

Thank God. Lucian would know what to do.

She tried to open her mouth to speak but no sound came out.

Hector roughly picked her up with one hand then slung her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Her arms hung down swaying from side to side in rhythm with his stride as he carried her from the room. She couldn’t see much apart from the threads in the fabric of Hector’s jacket as her face pressed against his back. She could still feel everything, she just couldn’t move. Total lack of control over her body.

Plastic crackled then its coolness glided across her skin—
the sheeting that separated Lucian’s renovations from the rest of the house. So he wasn’t taking her to her room.

Each sound deepened her sense of apprehension—a metal clunk behind her, elevator doors opening. Hector moved forward and turned around; the overpowering odor of Hector’s sweat made her head spin.

An electronic key pad beeped as someone pressed buttons. The floor lurched, so did her gut. They were descending. But to where? Terror sliced through her chest at her complete and utter helplessness.

The doors opened and the smell of disinfectant and antiseptic wafted into her nostrils, momentarily covering the scent of decay and death. They walked along what she perceived to be a corridor, sounds of despair and pain coming from either side, then the heavy stench of unwashed bodies and waste. She heaved involuntarily. Her internal muscles still seemed to be unaffected by the drug. Her heart still beat its new slow steady rhythm and her gag reflex was obviously unaffected, yet her limbs remained immobile.

Something snatched at her hair.

“Please…” it croaked in a pitiful tone before it yanked the lock out by the roots.

They passed through another electronic door then it was thankfully silent, the air in this section much sweeter. Finally they entered a room less bright than the fluorescent corridors.

“I’ve brought you some company,” Lucian sneered from somewhere ahead of her.

“You bastard.” Christian’s familiar voice was filled with hard fury. Her heart froze. Christian? Christian was here?

Hector laid her on a cold, hard surface a few feet off the ground and stepped back. Lucian stood over her, his eyes flat and cold.

Oh my God, he’s done this to me. This must be some kind of nightmare.

“I’m sorry your new accommodations aren’t as comfortable as your last, but you’ll have friends to keep you com
pany.” He turned her head so she could see the other side of the room.

The only man she’d trusted outside her family had betrayed her in the vilest way.

Stainless steel benches and surgical lights lay between her and a number of small cells separated by shiny bars. Oberon paced back and forth in one and in another stood Christian with his lips curled back into a snarl.

“Leave her alone, you perverted prick,” Christian hissed through gritted teeth. “Or so help me I’ll—”

Lucian yanked her hair to expose her throat. A cold blade pressed against her skin and burned. Silver. A silent scream ripped through her mind and tears sprung to her eyes.

Christian’s eyes filled with helpless rage and she caught the growling ursian as he slammed the cell bars in her peripheral vision. A sparking shock sent him flying back to hit the wall behind him. He crawled up on unsteady legs, snarling in frustration.

Oberon’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to kill you, Moretti.”

Lucian laughed. “That’s going to be a bit difficult, bear-man, since you’re the one behind bars.” He placed his hands on either side of Antoinette’s head, and pulled her up until his forehead pressed against hers, eye to eye, lips almost touching. “Don’t worry, the effects will wear off in hour or so.”

Then he released her head so hard it dropped and hit the surface with a teeth-rattling crunch and locked the cage behind him.

“Rest up,” he said. “You’re going to need all your strength in days to come.”

He left Antoinette lying helpless and immobile. Trapped in her own body, trapped by trust and misplaced loyalty. Thousands of questions raced through her head, questions she didn’t have answers for. The whole time she kept willing her body to move, to get some sort of reaction. She was finally rewarded with a finger twitching. It was a start. She kept concentrating and soon could move her entire hand and lift her arms.

“It wears off pretty fast now, but you’ll have one hell of a headache,” Christian said.

She turned her head to look at him. He squatted on his heels in the middle of his cell, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers linking his hands.

The headache hit, blinding her with its intensity. It took a few minutes until it dulled enough to open her eyes again—the lights still felt too bright and harsh. The headache reduced to a throb and she sat up. She didn’t trust her trembling legs would hold her up, but she tried anyway. To her surprise they did.

“Stay back from the bars, they’re rigged with some kind of energy,” Christian said.

The hairs on her arms stood on end and crackled as she neared them. But the sight of him was more welcome than she ever thought possible.

“Are you okay?” he asked his eyes searching her face.

She nodded, and returned his inspection with her own. He looked so good and so…Christian. “I’m a bit shaken and have no idea what’s going on. What happened to Dante?”

Oberon’s glance flicked to the cell beside hers.

Dante’s body lay crumpled on the floor, unmoving.

Christian frowned. “I was starting to wonder if they were working together.”

“Why would Lucian be working with Dante?” Antoinette asked.

Christian cocked his eyebrow. “Why would Lucian shoot us?”

“I don’t know.” She flopped back down onto the platform.

“That makes three of us,” Oberon said as he strode back and forth.

“Speaking of that—what are you guys doing here?”

Oberon stopped pacing. He crossed his arms across his chest and looked at Christian.

“Oberon had a tip Dante was headed this way,” Christian said. “We’d seen the photos on the wall in the sewer and had assumed Lucian was a target too.”

“So we came here to check Lucian’s security and if we happened to apprehend Dante while we were at it…” Oberon stepped closer to the bars and shrugged.

Nausea washed over her and everything in the room grew blurry for a moment. She hung her head between her knees.

“Antoinette!” Christian’s voice cracked a little.

She looked up and waved off the worry and concern written all over his face. “Why couldn’t you just set up a trap for Dante, bring in more men?”

Oberon folded his massive arms across his chest.

“Because we’d been warned off the case by the head of the Violent Crimes Unit,” Christian said.

“That fucker, Roberts.” Oberon spat as he paced, flexing his hands open and shut. He reminded Antoinette of a bear she’d seen once at a circus. He’d paced in a small cage the same way Oberon did, grunting sad little noises.

“Anyway, Lucian agreed to see us,” Christian said. “And while we were talking, one of his men walked in and I recognized the scar; he was the assailant who shot Andrew Williams.”

Oberon scowled. “I had no idea what was going on. These two guys took one look at each other and Laroque went for his gun.”

“And that’s when Lucian shot us with the same paralyzing darts he used on you.” Christian finished.

“Very effective weapon—I wouldn’t mind one of those myself,” Oberon mused.

Antoinette’s jaw dropped. “Oberon—he shot you with it.”

“I know, but it’s still a very effective weapon. Imagine how we could use it to bring down a perp without endangering the public. Unless of course if we shot one of them and it wasn’t safe for humans.” He shrugged.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to Christian. “How long have you been here?”

“We came here straight after I knew you had made it,” he said.

The reason for their parting no longer seemed as impor
tant as it once did in light of current events. Still she looked away to swallow the lump forming in her throat.

Oberon and Christian must’ve arrived only a short time before her. So close and she never even suspected. “Any idea what Lucian’s up to?”

Oberon began pacing again, like the trapped animal.

“Nothing good I suspect, but we haven’t seen him until just then. That big guy brings us food, which is strange if Lucian plans to kill us,” Christian said.

An icy chuckle started in the next cell. Dante crawled to his feet. “He doesn’t want to kill you. But you’ll wish he had by the time he’s finished with you.”

“Rubins, you sick sack of shit.” Oberon’s shoulders hunched and he balled his massive fists. “What would you know?”

“I know lots of things about Lucian—what’s he calling himself these days.” He clicked his fingers as if thinking. “Ah, Moretti, that’s it.”

“What do you mean these days?” Christian asked.

But Dante just taunted him with a lopsided smile, tapping the side of his nose.

“Well now, little one.” Dante’s gray, dead eyes bored into her. “I see Christian finished what I started. Ironic isn’t it? You’ve now become the thing you despise, though I’d planned to take you all the way through to a dreniac. Now, that would’ve been irony, wouldn’t it, the hunter becoming the prey. But it’s still not too late, once the hunger grows and eats at you like an animal gnawing at your innards—”

“Enough!” Christian roared.

Antoinette’s skin crawled. She rubbed and scratched her arms, which only seemed to make it worse. Dante was right; she could still turn Necrodreniac yet. She was tainted, vile. Antoinette fell to the floor on hands and knees, retching up nothing but air. Her stomach no longer produced digestive acid or bile. Only the enzymes used to break down human blood remained in her system now.

Dante’s chuckle washed over her like cold dishwater.

“See how easy you make it,” Lucian said from the doorway. “He has the power because you give it to him.”

“You bastard,” Christian spat.

Lucian crossed to the steel surgical bench in the middle of the room. “What’s the matter? Didn’t you enjoy your little reunion?” Lucian looked at her, the warmth she’d previously seen in his eyes completely gone.

The butler entered carrying a set of handcuffs. Dante just stared back at Lucian, uncertainty flickering across his face.

Dante moved closer to the bars. “What the fuck are you doing, Moretti?”

“Your little extracurricular activities have started to attract too much attention. You’re too much of a liability.”

Dante grabbed the bars with both hands The electric surge threw him backward with the sizzling crackle of a giant bug zapper.

The stench of ozone invaded her space as the fallen Aeternus struggled to his feet. Dante stood on shaky legs. “You said as long as I got the job done you didn’t care what else I got up to.”

“But you didn’t get the job done.” Lucian glanced at Antoinette. “You were supposed to kill her, but you led them here instead.”

A pain pierced her heart like an icy blade. He’d actually wanted her dead. Her mouth opened and shut with no words forming on her tongue.

“You owe me, Moretti,” Dante screamed. “I’ve been doing your dirty work for decades.”

Lucian’s eyes blazed with rage. “I owe you nothing.”

Dante puffed out his chest. “I introduced you to the right people, helped remove obstacles in the way of your advancement.”

“You should have died from those burns in that warehouse fire. Only my skill brought you through. You owe me your life. Everything was fine until you had to go bring attention to yourself with your perverted little habit.”

“You were the one who gave me that habit when you had me kill her mother.” Dante tossed his head in Antoinette’s direction. “Even though I could never figure why—I mean it wasn’t like she was a threat to you or anything. But she was a sweet morsel.”

“What?” Still reeling from the fact Lucian wanted her dead, Antoinette’s whole world spun on its axis in a dizzy second and she found herself sitting on the floor. “You had my mother killed?”

Lucian’s shoulders tensed and his glance skated past her before stopping once again on Dante. With narrowed eyes and rigid expression, Lucian managed a tight, deadly smile. Antoinette could no longer see the man she thought she knew.

“I may not have a use for you outside this lab, but I’m sure you will be very valuable in my research.” Lucian’s voice was as dead as his expression as he turned off the current to the cell bars.

Dante’s eyes widened and something spread over his face that Antoinette would never have believed possible—naked and unadulterated terror.

“You can’t do that to me,” Dante’s voice quivered. “Please, Lucian—you can’t.”

Lucian didn’t answer, just nodded to Hector and pulled out a real pistol. “Be a good boy and let Hector put on the chains. This one’s set to kill, not stun.”

The large man had to stoop to enter the cell, but as soon as he was in, he moved much faster than Antoinette thought possible. He clapped the cuffs on one wrist and spun him to capture the second.

Goose bumps crawled across Antoinette’s flesh at the look of utter panic on Dante’s face. He turned his back on her. Once she had feared him more than anything.

And now he was nothing. A tool. A means to an end for Lucian’s gain. She’d been such a fool to let him rule her life. She was finally free of the hold he had over her. She had
won, but the victory seemed hollow, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

Two other men walked into the room wheeling a gurney. Antoinette didn’t recognize the first, but the second winked as he passed. It was the same weedy kid from the school and the alley. Lucian had set that up too. He’d played her so well.