Night's Cold Kiss (30 page)

Antoinette ran the back of her finger across the little girl’s brow and Lisbet’s eyes fluttered open, tears streaking silvery lines down her cheeks.

“He took care of me and was my only friend,” she sobbed.

“Lucian Moretti,” Oberon growled. “I am placing you under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, the experimentation on parahumans, kidnapping, obstruction of an investigation, and as many other charges as I can come up with. You’ll be charged and will have to appear before the Department’s judicial high court. The Guild will be informed of your illegal activities as soon as possible.”

Lucian started to laugh. Not the reaction Antoinette was expecting.

“What’s so funny?” Oberon asked.

“Do you really think members of the Guild are unaware of my activities here? How do you think I get my specimens? This goes much higher than me.” He put his hand into his jacket pocket and arrogantly raised his smug expression to Oberon.

It wasn’t until Lucian reached out and snatched Lisbet did Antoinette realized how much he’d been inching closer.

He held a syringe to Lisbet’s throat. “It’s silver nitrate. I was going to use it on one of you as a demonstration, but this will do nicely.”

He pressed the needle tip against Lisbet’s throat, indenting the delicate skin but not piercing it.

“Lucian, she’s your sister, your flesh and blood. Let her go and we’ll make sure you get a fair hearing,” Christian said as he slowly advanced around the table while Oberon inched closer from the other side.

Lucian laughed. “There are those who would see me dead in a heartbeat before they risked that kind of exposure—I know too much. And if you separate me from her, I’ll be dead within weeks anyway. I need her blood. So if I’m going to die, I may as well take her with me. Now back off.”

Lisbet’s tiny hand brushed against an instrument tray, knocking it to the floor with a metallic clatter. Antoinette felt so helpless until she saw Lisbet’s fist wrapped around something. The little girl plunged another syringe into his thigh.

Lucian’s eyes went wide with surprise and Oberon rushed in, picking him up by the scruff of his shirt while Christian grabbed Lisbet out of harm’s way.

The bear in Oberon shifted in his features, curling his lips back into a snarl, but then he let Lucian go. “You’re not worth my career.”

Lucian stumbled, the empty syringe sticking out of his thigh. His eyes narrowed on Oberon’s broad back as he lifted the syringe in his hand.

“Behind you,” Christian warned.

Oberon growled, a backhand sending Lucian flying into a cabinet, shaking the many bottles and glass containers on the shelves. Lucian crumpled to the floor, knocked unconscious by a large jar as the others smashed to the floor around him.

He lay unmoving as one last bottle teetered on the shelf above and fell with almost graceful slowness. When it hit the other chemicals, they ignited, sending flames and glass fragments flying through the air.

Lisbet stood watching the flames lick around her brother’s body. Even after everything he’d done to her, he was still her brother and it was something she shouldn’t see. Antoinette pulled her away. Lisbet’s arms wrapped around her waist as she buried her face against Antoinette’s stomach.

Flames licked the walls, climbing to the ceiling, running along the floor—spreading so quickly it covered his body in seconds. They all stood watching, shocked into inaction.

“Let’s get out of here,” Christian said. “Grab that one.” He pointed to the remaining guard.

Oberon pulled him to his feet by his collar. Another small explosion rocked the far corner of the room and everyone flinched instinctively. A third explosion blasted across the room.

“We have to get out of here—
now!”
Oberon yelled.

Antoinette guided Lisbet toward the exit, but the little girl stopped at the door to look back at Hector’s body. Oberon pushed them through and Christian was hot on his heels, dragging the guard with him.

Christian closed the heavy metal door behind them and they were plunged into immediate silence. The room was soundproofed. Lisbet keyed a code into the electronic lock so they could continue through the second door and into a junction of passageways leading off in three directions. Ahead were barred cells on both sides and at the end of the passage was an elevator. Even more corridors branched left and right.

“There must be dozens of rooms down here,” Antoinette whispered.

Oberon looked around and nodded to the passage in front of them. “I count twelve cells that way, six a side. With three more corridors in either direction that makes seven blocks of twelve, so around eighty-four rooms. Will we have enough time to evacuate everyone?”

“Let’s hope so, we must hurry,” Lisbet said.

“How much time do we have?” Christian asked.

“It depends on how long the fire stays contained. Hector
managed to disable the alarms, but when the fire reaches this section the guardhouse will be alerted. If they can’t confirm with Lucian a false alarm, they are under orders to shut down the complex and fill the air with a multitoxic gas, killing all that remain.”

“Then we have to stop that from happening.” Christian took one of the dart pistols he’d stripped from Lucian’s men and held it out to Oberon. “Do you think you can take care of the guards above ground?”

“With pleasure,” he said.

Lisbet grabbed on to Antoinette’s hand, gripping her fingers tightly. Oberon frightened her. Antoinette squeezed and smiled what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“What about this one?” Oberon asked, scowling at the guard sitting against the wall.

“If we had some rope we could tie him up,” Antoinette said.

Christian shucked off his cotton shirt and threw it in her direction, leaving him wearing a tight T-shirt. “Here, use this.”

“Fine, I’ll leave him to you.” Oberon loped off down the hall toward the elevator.

The cloth was full of his scent. She repressed the urge to bury her nose in it and tore the material into strips. She didn’t have time to dwell on her confused emotions at this point. There were far more important things like…

“I need to find my father,” Antoinette said as she squatted beside the guard, securing his hands.

Lisbet placed her hand on Antoinette’s shoulder. “He’s in a cell two rows over and last on the left.”

“Go,” Christian said. “Lisbet and I will start releasing the other prisoners.”

Antoinette nodded and set off down the corridor. None of the doors in his row had electronic locks—only a thick metal rail lying across the frame, barring them. Antoinette set about opening the other occupied cells until she reached
the one Lisbet said was supposed to be occupied by her father. Instead she found an old man hunched on the edge of his bunk. There must be some mistake. This seemed to be the right cell, but where was the dark-haired giant with the quick smile she remembered? Could this shrunken old man really be her father?

Antoinette looked again and lifted the metal bar. Confusion erupted among the other captives as Lisbet came around the corner, directing them to the elevator.

The old man inside the cell didn’t move, just sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. Antoinette dropped to her knees in front of him, took hold of his thin, frail wrists and gently pulled them away from his face.

His cloudy dark eyes focused, his brow creasing. “Marianna?” he croaked in a harsh whisper.

She let out a sob. “No, Papa. It’s me.” Tears pricked her eyes. He looked ancient, older even than Sergei. “Oh, Papa. What did he do to you?”

His eyes focused a little more. “Antoinette—my little girl?” He reached out a shaky hand but withdrew it. “No—this is just another cruel dream come to taunt me.” Tears slipped from his eyes, tracing a silvery path through the crags of his sallow, half-starved face.

A sob broke from her lips as she brought his palm to her lips, her cheeks wet with her own tears. “It’s not a dream. I’m here, Papa—I’ve come to take you home.”

He reached out his thin arms and hugged her with all the desperation of a man in shock—his body shuddering with great wracking sobs that tore at her heart. To see her father reduced to this gaunt caricature of the tall, proud man he’d been when she was a child was almost more than she could bear.

For a few minutes they clung together, but time was short. She fought down the rage threatening to consume her, wanting to tear someone apart, make them pay for what they’d done to him. If Lucian wasn’t already dead, she would’ve
ripped him to shreds a thousand times over. But she needed to get her father out of danger and she’d worry about everything else later.

She broke his embrace and wiped the hot tears from her face. “We have to go, Papa.”

A loud booming noise rocked the complex and set off the shrill wail of alarms, plunging the corridors into a red flashing glow.

Antoinette helped her father to stand, shocked by how the clothes hung like rags from his emaciated frame. Lucian must’ve been starving him and she bit back her own distress as he shuffled on legs almost too weak to hold him up. She swallowed down the pity and moved to help him. This ancient man was not the god of her childhood.

His thin legs buckled and she wrapped her arm around her father’s skeletal waist before he collapsed onto the ground, then she bent to sweep him up. Shocked, he tried to fight, his expression proud and indignant. Now, there was the Papa she remembered.

“Please. We don’t have time,” she cried above the wailing sirens.

He held her gaze for a moment longer, then his face collapsed as he surrendered. He weighed so little that even without her Aeternus strength she could’ve easily lifted him. His embarrassment disappeared into narrowing eyes and he carefully regarded her face.

Antoinette turned the corner to find the elevator where Oberon stood with a rag-tag bunch of parahumans.

“You’ve secured the area?” she yelled above the noise of the sirens and chaos.

He nodded as he herded the prisoners into the lift.

“Where’s Christian?”

“I think he’s down there checking out another lab he stumbled across. It’s near a freight elevator and there are more people getting out that way.”

The sound of the fire grew closer, punctuated by another small explosion.

Christian.

Antoinette turned to Oberon. “I’m going to help him. Look after my father.” She started off down the hall at a run.

“Antoinette,” the old man cried out.

“I’ll be with you soon, Papa, I promise,” she called over her shoulder as she ran.

The smoky air stung her eyes and she almost missed the lab, but skidded to a halt just before the door. Christian was inside, loading small vials into a metal canister. It was identical to the other lab where Lucian had held them, with one major difference. Instead of the caged cells, the walls here were lined with floor-to-ceiling refrigeration units, containing thousands of multicolored vials.

The body of a white-coated lab assistant—if you could call what was left the body—lay in several pieces strung across the floor. Fangs nudged her gums at the scent of old spilled blood, but it had a stale corrupted tang to it so she was easily able to control the desire to feed.

Christian followed her eyes before turning back to his task. “I found him like that. Some of the prisoners have been here a long time.” He finished and screwed the top in place and looked around. “This is Lucian’s real work. He was creating biochemical weapons to target active parahuman DNA only, leaving humans untouched.”

“Oh my God,” Antoinette whispered.

“We have to get out.” He nodded to a timer displaying 5:59 on the wall and silently counting down. “Seems our unfortunate friend here was able to trigger it before some of the inmates took the opportunity for a little payback.”

A muffled roar grew louder. “We have to hurry, the fire will be here any minute now,” she shouted.

Christian slung the canisters over his shoulder. “Then run,” he yelled.

She pulled the lab door shut behind them, and followed Christian toward the freight elevator. The fire had beat them; it was blocking the corridor with a collapsed ceiling and a wall of flames.

“Shit,” Christian said, “we’ll have to use the other one.”

He grabbed her hand and dragged her back the other way. The fire climbed the walls all around them, flames licking at the ceiling above, heat mounting and the smoke thickened. She’d have serious trouble breathing if she was still human.

Up ahead a burning beam crashed across the corridor. Antoinette held her arm in front of her face as sparks swirled in the burning air. Christian vaulted the wreckage, taking her with him. The skin on her face felt tight and dry.

They’d almost reached the elevator when the red flashing lights flickered. Electrical wiring hissed and crackled and the roar of the fire grew even louder as it bore down on them like a living animal. Christian hit the up button on the wall panel.

After what seemed an eternity the doors finally opened and she stepped inside first, just as the ceiling collapsed, showering Christian with debris. A large chunk of concrete hit him on the side of the head, knocking him out cold.

“Christian,” she screamed, her heart contracting tightly in her chest.

She reached for his wrist and dragged his unconscious body into the lift and pressed the top button as soon as he was clear.

Nothing happened.

“Come on,” she cried, repeatedly hitting the button.

Still nothing. The fire grew closer. As an Aeternus she could survive heat and smoke, but not fire itself.

Frantically Antoinette punched the button again—to her relief the doors closed and the lift began to ascend. She sank back against the wall staring at the “Do not use in case of fire” sign and laughed with almost hysterical relief.

Christian groaned. She dropped to her knees, propped his head on her thighs, and peeled back the hair on his temple where he’d been hit. Underneath the crusty blackened blood, the cut was healing over, but he was still unconscious.

“Christian!” Antoinette lightly stroked his face. “Can you hear me?”

He groaned in response, but didn’t wake. She had no idea how long it took an Aeternus to wake up from a head wound. Suddenly it struck her how helpless he must have felt as she lay dying. She would do anything to have him be all right, just as Christian had done for her. Tears welled in her stinging eyes. Great time for an epiphany.

The lift kept rising. She couldn’t remember how long it had taken on the initial ride down, but it seemed to be taking forever now.

The floor beneath her began to rattle and shake like it was caught in an earthquake. With a crashing boom, the elevator shuddered to a halt.

“No!” she cried hitting the buttons again.

The bomb in the lab must have detonated. The lights began flashing and crackling, while outside the high-pitched squeal of metal against metal strangled her nerves.

Christian still lay unconscious with his head in her lap as the elevator steadily grew hotter. They were trapped. Panic bubbled just below the surface of her conscious mind, but she wasn’t about to give in to it yet—that wouldn’t help her and Christian get out of here.

And then the elevator was plunged into darkness. What else could go wrong? After a few seconds her eyes adjusted and she was able to see clearly again. For the second time she was glad not to be human. Her new abilities were starting to grow on her. If only she could master her hunger. At least she would be harder to kill and therefore had a chance of making it out alive.

She couldn’t just sit here waiting for a rescue that may never come, though. Looking around, she spotted the access hatch. Gently lowering Christian’s head onto the floor, she jumped up and gripped it. It was locked.
Of course.

She gripped the lip of the hatch housing and put all her power into driving her foot up above the covering. It burst upward and she used the momentum to swing herself out onto the top of the car.

Pulleys and wire cables were the only things holding them
up. The scent of burning grease and ozone filled the hot, dark shaft. Antoinette glanced up to a set of doors about twenty feet above. Only twenty feet—they could easily make that. If Christian were conscious, that was.

“Hey,” she cried, cupping her hands around her mouth, “Anyone up there?” The elevator shook beneath her and the car dropped several feet, and she fell to her knees. The crunching of metal and whining of cables under stress screamed in the enclosed space. Smoke started to leak around the sides of the car.

Antoinette popped her head back in through the hatch. “Christian,” she called, trying to wake him.

He stirred, but didn’t rouse. They didn’t have any more time to waste as the elevator shuddered under her and she lowered herself carefully back into the car. Her newfound strength made it easy to pick him up and push him through the opening onto the roof. It was awkward, but she managed. The elevator jolted again. She froze until it settled, then as quickly and carefully as she could, she climbed back up through the hatch.

Dragging Christian to the side was easy. Getting him up the narrow maintenance ladder would be another matter.

As her hand curled around the warm steel rung, the car fell several more feet. His unconscious weight dragged on her arm, jolting them both. Now what? She couldn’t climb with one hand holding Christian’s weight.

At that moment he groaned and miraculously opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. When he glanced down, he quickly grabbed the rung by her knee, the canisters he still had over his shoulder clunking against the metal ladder.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I’ll explain when we get out of here,” she answered, letting go of his other hand. She sighed and gave silent thanks something was going their way for once. The groaning of cables again shook the shaft.

“Let’s hurry then,” he yelled back over the screeching din.