Four Centuries (Damned and Cursed Book 7) (49 page)

A phone was on the corner of the desk.
 
Zoey nearly couldn't contain her laughter as she reached for it.
 
The dial tone was the sweetest sound she'd heard in a long time.

Her joy was short-lived as she glanced at the numbers.
 
Who was she going to call?
 
Who would come help them?

There were voices outside, just beyond the wall.
 
The hunters had caught up and argued about what they saw a moment ago.

"We're trapped here.
 
They're going to be in here any minute."

Kevin moved to the doorway and peered outside the office.
 
His eyes lit up as he broke into a huge smile.
 
Rubbing his hands together with glee, he leaned to the side and gestured for Zoey to approach.

"Check it out."

She joined him and peered out.
 
Nothing unusual that deserved such a reaction leapt out at her.
 
Shopping carts, shelves, food, cash registers.

"What is this place?" Zoey asked.
 
"It looks like a dollar store."

"Nope."

"No?
 
What is it?"

"This—"
 
He waved his hand.
 
"Is a witch's armory."

Victoria let out a rush of air as consciousness returned and the bolt was removed from her chest.
 
Coughing and gasping, she tried to lean forward, but her arms were restrained behind the chair she was in.
 
Blood ran from her open wound down her stomach.

A cup was pressed to her lips, and despite her scattered senses, she could smell the delicious blood.
 
She refused to drink, keeping her mouth clenched shut.

"Drink," a familiar voice said.
 
"I wouldn't go through all of this just to give you tainted blood."

The logic was sound, and the blood smelled clean.
 
She took a deep drink as her captor tilted the cup back.
 
Her heart resumed its normal beating, the wound in her chest healed.
 
She was still weak, tired, but she would live.

She took in her surroundings as her senses slowly regained their edge.
 
She was in a room with a single heavy door.
 
There was only one light, covering the room in wild shadows.
 
Her captor moved to a desk against the wall, where a laptop and two-way radio, along with various blades and tools, sat.
 
She had a reasonable guess as to the tools' purpose.

Testing her restraints, it wasn't merely handcuffs securing her to the chair.
 
She could easily break handcuffs.
 
Whatever held her arms in place went all the way to her elbow, and was part of the chair.
 
The chair itself was bolted to the floor.

The scent touched her nose, and brought overwhelming sadness.
 
Her captor sat with his back to her, working at the laptop, but she didn't need to see to know who it was.

"Patrick," she said.
 
"I'm so—"
 
She searched for the word.
 
"Disappointed to see you here."

"Disappointed."
 
The handsome Irishman turned in his chair.
 
"Victoria, I'm sorry, but you don't get to talk to me about disappointment."

They weren't merely words.
 
She could see the hurt, the pain in his eyes.
 
His shoulders slumped, his body language telling.

"I jumped at this assignment, to get the chance to see you again.
 
But you…you disappointed
me
."

"What assignment?"

"To test you," he said.
 
"Your resolve, behavior, the resources at your disposal.
 
All of it."

A tear ran down her cheek as the terrible truth she'd been chasing finally arrived in its entirety.

"Our kind, dying from tainted mortal blood.
 
You're behind it."

"Not me, personally.
 
Believe it or not, it actually started right here in Baltimore.
 
When those wild vampires were loose a few years back, we knew we needed some form of population control.
 
Scientists that work for Terry came up with it.
 
It does no harm to mortals, but will kill any vampire that feeds from an infected mortal.
 
It looks like any old pill.
 
You know how mortals love their pills.
 
We've actually made a bit of money selling it, too, to people that want protection from us."

She shook her head.
 
"You killed young, innocent vampires, just to see what I would do."

"I didn't want to," he said.
 
"But I understand why.
 
Terry, Walter, Evelyn, they want you at the table, Victoria, every year.
 
Me, too.
 
Some are saying it should have always been you, and not Bradley.
 
But they wanted to see what you were all about.
 
You know how they think.
 
A few dead vampires now is nothing compared to the good you can do for the next century."

"And the man at the Vermilion, the mortal handing out the pills.
 
He went into business for himself, so you had him killed."

He smiled, but then the sadness once again took over.

"So smart," he said.
 
"One of the reasons I'm so attracted to you.
 
To be honest, this assignment wasn't that important to me.
 
I just wanted to see you again.
 
I knew you'd pass whatever test they were looking for, and I wanted to get to know you better."
 
His sadness turned to frustration.
 
"But then you called a witch.
 
A
witch
, Victoria."

"Kevin," she said.
 
"This is all about Kevin."

"Of course it is.
 
How can it not be?
 
The minute you called him, everything changed.
 
The most dangerous creature alive.
 
You used to kill them, Victoria.
 
What happened?"

"I changed.
 
It's wrong to kill someone just because of what they are.
 
It's no different than vampire hunters killing us just because we're vampires.
 
Kevin isn't
evil
, Patrick.
 
He's done so much good, helped so many people."

"The Black Death started out with good intentions, and look how that ended up."
 
He shook his head sadly.
 
"You're older and smarter than all of us, and I have to explain this to you.
 
I can't believe it."

"Do the others know?" she asked.
 
"Do they know about Kevin?"

"Of course.
 
They know everything.
 
They know about him, and they know you can walk in the daylight.
 
I'm sorry, but I had to tell them.
 
I can't believe you kept all of this a secret.
 
Did Bradley know?"

She nodded.
 
"He did."

"Oh, God.
 
What a mess.
 
I wish I never would have agreed to this.
 
But I did.
 
And it's up to me to set it right."

"So," she said.
 
"What do we do now?"

"I have to kill the witch.
 
You know this."

"No, you don't.
 
Please, listen to me, Patrick."

"It's happening."
 
He stared at the floor, unable to look her in the eye.
 
"I know you found the warehouse, but it's too late.
 
Everything is already in motion.
 
Forgive me, Victoria.
 
I didn't want this.
 
I don't
enjoy
killing.
 
I don't enjoy any of this.
 
Believe me, I've had sleepless days over this.
 
I look at the young man, and see he has a girlfriend, a job.
 
He doesn't spend his time coming up with plans to take over the world.
 
But his mere existence…."
 
His eyes filled with resolve.
 
"He's dangerous.
 
I'm sorry, but it's true."

"Then what am I doing here?
 
Why bring me here?"

"I need more information.
 
About Kevin.
 
I need to know everything.
 
His family.
 
His parents.
 
Does he have any brothers or sisters?"

"I'm sorry, too.
 
But you're not going to get much cooperation out of me."

Patrick's eyes fell on the blades and tools on the table, a torturer's arsenal.
 
Glancing away quickly, he finally managed to look Victoria in the eye, but said nothing.

"You would do that?" she asked.
 
"To me?"

"If I have to.
 
So, please, don't make me.
 
Just talk to me."

She said nothing.
 
He stood and walked to the table, grabbing a blade at random.

"Patrick, talk to
me
," she said.
 
"Do you really think this is the only way?
 
Killing a young man and cutting me to pieces?
 
Please, don't do this.
 
You're a good man.
 
You won't be able to live with yourself."

"I might not.
 
But the world will be safer."

He took a step closer, holding the blade up.
 
Tears ran down his face, and Victoria felt more for him than herself.
 
He eyed her carefully, trying to figure out what to cut first.

A voice crackled from the radio behind him.

"Hey, boss."

Patrick turned his back to her and grabbed the radio, still holding the blade in his hand.

"What is it?"

"The side door is open, and we haven't been able to find Travis or Jones."

Victoria raised an eyebrow, then the realization came.

"You have security here?" she asked.
 
"The men from that shipping dock.
 
Are they here now?"

He ignored her.

"Do a sweep and report back.
 
If they're sleeping again, you tell me."

"Bring that radio over here," Victoria said.
 
"Hurry.
 
Let me stop this before it gets out of hand."

Setting the radio back on the table, Patrick turned, but didn't expect what he saw.

Victoria rubbed her arms from where the shackles held her.
 
Stretching her hands over her head, she pulled her hair behind her, away from her face, and crossed her legs.
 
She sat in the restraining chair as if it were a throne.

"Damnit," she complained.
 
"It's probably too late now, anyway."

"How?" he said.

It was Victoria's turn to be silent.
 
Slipping out of the old restraints took no effort, but she'd let him wonder.

She held his gaze as his own realization struck him.

"You…let us catch you, didn't you?"

She smiled.
 
"And you are also smart.
 
One of the reasons I was attracted to
you
.
 
You might want to put that sharp thing down."

A hint of amusement danced in his eyes, and maybe also relief.
 
He dropped the blade on the table and sat on the desk, giving Victoria his attention.

"I didn't think it would be you," she said.
 
"I wanted to talk to whoever wanted to kill my friend.
 
But you would rather just kill blindly and cut me open."

"There's not much to talk about.
 
Not where a witch is concerned."

"Patrick, of all the vampires at New Delhi, you were the one I believed wasn't like the others.
 
I thought you had your own path, thought for yourself."

"And you're the oldest of us.
 
You should recognize that witches are dangerous, and they need to be put down."

"Put down," she said, shaking her head.
 
"Like they're dogs, and not people."

"Okay, I'm sorry.
 
Wrong term.
 
Anyway, it doesn't matter, Victoria.
 
He's dead now.
 
We've been tracking him, and I hired a team of witch hunters to kill him."

Victoria laughed.
 
She was as confident in her inner circle as Patrick was in his.

A slow, steady pounding came at the door.

"Knock, knock."

Patrick stood up, his calm demeanor disappearing.
 
He sniffed the air as he tried to place who was beyond the door.

"You might want to get that."

He hesitated, but opened the door slowly.
 
Victoria wasn't surprised to see Jack standing on the other side.
 
His hands were covered in blood.
 
An odd-looking weapon was strapped to his back.
 
An unconscious man with a horrific scent lay on the floor behind him.

Jack nodded in greeting, looking past Patrick to see Victoria.

"Ah, there she is."

He pushed Patrick aside and dragged the man behind him by the foot.
 
Dropping him in place, Jack let out a whistle as he admired the cart of tools.

"Wow.
 
Impressive.
 
All you're missing is a copy of
Frozen
."