Charlie shrugged. "Probably because you can bench press a small car while I can barely lift my own anxiety."
"Sort of," Viktor said. "It's to do with physical attributes. You're strong and healthy. Good genetic material to work with."
Brent shot Charlie a confused look.
"I got bitten by a drunk vampire who thought it was fun to turn the wrong target." Charlie shrugged. "Lucky me."
Brent began to pace, muscles tensing beneath his skin like a caged animal. "So these people are still after me? And they're... what? Government? Military?"
"Technically, it's a private organization," Viktor said. "But they have connections everywhere."
"And they have Simon," Charlie added. The hollow feeling in his chest pulsed with a dull ache. "He's a hunter. Was a hunter. It's complicated."
"Complicated how?"
"He was supposed to kill me." Charlie swallowed around the lump in his throat. "But he didn't. He protected me instead. And now they've taken him back to... recondition him or something."
Brent stopped pacing. "Back up. This Simon guy, he hunts vampires for a living?"
"Yes."
"And he was supposed to kill you?"
"Yes."
"But instead you guys..." Brent gestured vaguely.
Charlie felt heat rise to his face. "It's complicated," he repeated.
Brent stared at him for a long moment. "Charlie, what the actual hell happened to your life?"
"I ask myself that every day."
A soft ping came from Viktor's pocket. He pulled out his phone, expression darkening as he read the screen.
"We need to move. Now."
"What is it?" Charlie moved closer.
"I have another contact at the Organization. Simon's been taken to the sub-basement level. That's where they do the correctional training."
A shiver ran through Charlie. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing good." Viktor pocketed his phone. "And it means we're out of time for explanations. Brent, pack a bag."
Brent's eyes widened. "For real?"
"Yes, for real," Charlie said. "If they get you, they'll turn you into something you're not. Something that kills for them." His voice cracked. "Like they did to Simon."
The bond in his chest throbbed, a distant pain that wasn't his own. Something was happening to Simon. Right now.
Simon came to consciousness in stages. First: darkness. Then the bite of restraints around his wrists and ankles. The familiar smell of antiseptic and metal. The hum of equipment.
The sub-basement.
He kept his eyes closed, assessing. His head throbbed from the tranquilizers. His mouth tasted like copper. The bond with Charlie felt stretched thin, vibrating like a plucked string.
"I know you're awake."
