“Whatwas it?” he hollers.
Esmé flinches, lips fumbling. “Never lie.”
“You know, Dustin and I could just take that five hundred thousand and dip. Fuck the others. Fuck the vampires. What do you say we open her up right here and call it a day?”
Shit.
“If you’re going to punish me, then take it out on me. Leave Vessa out of this. Let her go while there’s still time.”
Levi smirks. “I’m afraid that’s not on the table. What will it be then? The Sponsa Noctis or the love of your life?”
The oracle shudders, clutching onto her mate. Stroking his cheeks. Pressing her lips to his. Whispering she loves him over and over.
Growling, I flash my teeth at my scorpion-inked captor. “You’re a sick bastard.”
“So, I’ve heard,” he grunts, stomping over to Esmé, prying her away and slitting Joseph’s throat so abruptly that his blood spatters onto her face. She screams as his body slumps atop her.
Sobbing and thrashing, I am dragged out of the room. A call comes through on Dustin’s radio. As he reaches behind to adjust the volume, I jerk forwards, stomping on his foot as hard as I can.Fuck, does it hurt. But it works. He loosens his hold and I sprint down the hall.
Guards roar after me. More activity sounds on the hall speakers as I fly past them, adrenaline blocking out the pain. Stacks of ice chests and shipping containers line the walls. Kiersten must’ve called for preparations to abandon the facility.
Just as the stairwell comes into view, I’m tackled from the side. Two men work to subdue me, one pinning my shoulders down as Dustin injects me with what can only be a sedative. I’m still fighting as he hauls me up and over his shoulder. In my last conscious moments, I glance out the window, where I observe an armed guard leading a line of girls whose hands are bound out the exit. Dr. Caulder’s daughter is among them. Levi is the last one out. He pulls a gun from his waistband, closing the door behind him.
No!
Through drooping eyelids, I punch at the hard biceps that hold me in place. But my energy is soon spent, and I give in to the blurring weightlessness.
When I eventually stir,I find myself sprawled out on a leather chaise. Not my usual plastic cot.
It’s a new office. A rather bland one at that—pale yellow walls that are decorated with portraits of plants and human anatomy.A long horizontal desk with a clipboard, a microscope, and a bin full of discarded energy drinks.
Kiersten hovers over me, her hair pulled back into a messy knot. Her lover smiles and hands over a fresh pink shift gown with bows and slippers to match.
I beg her to give me something else. Something with sleeves. I don’t want to look at the bruises on my limbs. I’m so repulsed by the shift dress Yvonne tugs down my frame that I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror. In my reflection, I see a broken doll.
My skin is splotchy. Everything aches. My hand flattens over my chest.Axe. Please hurry.
Kiersten walks me through a set of titanium doors, opened by a PIN pad combination. Holding me tightly, she ushers me into a set of observation rooms, illuminated by murky red lights. Behind the glass, two lethargic figures are chained up along the wall.
Taking my seat, I stare down Kiersten’s test subjects—the “pets” Fawn referred to before. One of them is a first-generation, yellow-eyed vampire, like the one who pursued Axe and I in Belcarra. The female, far more fidgety, is the new breed. The reptilian hybrid that also feeds on lycan blood.
Kiersten’s shaggy-haired assistant approaches with two syringes. The vampires lunge forward, but he kicks them back, ordering them to behave. Yielding to him, the first opens his mouth, and blood squirts onto his tongue. Instantly, the creature’s eyes roll back into his head. When the female gets a taste, she hisses, the vertical slits of her pupils expanding.
The assistant pockets the tubes and shuffles back into the observation room with haste, locking the door.
“Your blood panel is fascinating,” Kiersten says. “I see you are part Noctosonoc. Tell me, did your ancestors use thelanguage of the old gods of Sempiternus? Most humans have turned their backs on them.”
“What’s it to you?”
She prowls closer. “Your name. It means ‘star of heaven,’ does it not?”
“Evening star,” I correct.
Kiersten smirks. “Did you know that in Somnium, demons do not speak the common tongue of the heavens? Down below, Vespera translates to something far more wicked. It means ‘final death.’”
The words reverberate through me, chilling my blood.
Piercing shrieks vibrate against the glass. Kiersten jerks my face ahead. “Look, Vessa. Witness what your blood can do.”
