Way of the Wolf: Shifter Legacies 1 (3 page)

“You’re serious?”

“As death itself, Professor.”

He considered lying, but decided against it. “I’m not sure, but I think not.”

Arcadian didn’t look surprised. “Why not?”

“Because my knowledge of genetics is entirely tied to the human genome. This hypothetical man would be, for all intents and purposes, not human.”

“Almost exactly word for word what the others said before they joined us.”

Morgan shrugged. “A disappointment I’ll admit, but not unexpected. They’re all products of their modern world.”

“You have asked others this question?” Elliot said.

Morgan nodded. “Geneticists, scientists, medical doctors, and researchers… your colleagues, should you decide to join them in their quest.”

“The project is a reality then?”

“It is,” Arcadian said. “What would it take for you to join your colleagues in their work?”

“There’s nothing you could offer that would make me give up my own research, especially not when I don’t believe in the goal.”

“Money?”

“Insulting,” Elliot said mildly. “And no.”

“Fame?”

He snorted.

Arcadian smiled. “Immortality?”

“My daughter and my work are all I have in this world. My wife passed away years ago, and I’m an old man. The thought of immortality at my age, were it obtainable, does not attract me.”

“I think, were certain things made plain to you, you might change your mind about that, but no matter. Let us speak of your daughter.”

“What about her?”

“She is dying is she not?”

“How did you…” he blurted in surprise. “No, it doesn’t matter. Susan is not well, but she isn’t dying.”

“Not yet perhaps, but her condition is incurable is it not?”

He nodded reluctantly. “Research will find a cure eventually.”

“In time to save her?”

“I believe so. I’m close, very close.”

Arcadian pursed his lips and frowned. “Close. Is it possible that you overstate?”

“Anything is possible, but I don’t believe so. Drug therapy will keep her condition under control until my research yields the answer.”

“Any cure will be years in testing.”

Elliot moistened his lips. “I have a way around that.”

“I’m sorry to distress you this way. I’m sure you have many friends willing to bend the rules for you. What if I were to show you another way, a better way?”

“A better way to cure her? But what has this to do with your immortality project? You know I don’t believe in that goal.”

“I know and it doesn’t matter. If you join us, you will come to believe in it, but more to the point right now, you will see a way forward for your daughter.”

“What way?”

“I have a way certain to cure your daughter. One hundred percent certain, and not in years but in days at most. ”

“
Impossible!
” he gasped but his hopes leapt. A man such as Arcadian, one who was wealthy beyond dreams, might well have contacts that he lacked. If a cure existed and he not aware of it, a man like Arcadian might know.

“Not impossible, just unlikely.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will in a moment. Understand this, my cure for your daughter’s illness is not free. It is
not
free. You understand?”

“You want me to work on your project.”

“That’s part of it, but only a part. There is a price to be paid by both of you. My project is secret and requires you to keep that secret. Also, you and your daughter will be required to join the others and live with them until the research is complete.”

“How long?”

“That’s uncertain. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you the nature of research, but as things stand I would guess at no less than a year.”

Morgan agreed with a nod. “Professor Langdon’s last report was encouraging, but it might be longer than that… perhaps two years.”

“Langdon? Would that be Jennifer Langdon?” Elliot said.

“That’s right.”

“I heard that—”

Arcadian smiled. “That she disappeared under suspicious circumstances? Yes she did. If you agree to my terms, so will you as far as your friends are concerned.”

His thoughts raced. Jennifer Langdon would never be a party to something so outlandish unless there truly was a chance of success. Two years away from his work could be disastrous, and yet… he nodded to himself. The others would ensure his work would go on, and what if Arcadian really had a cure? Two years away would be nothing then.

“I need something concrete to base my decision on. I need more information about your cure. Something...
anything!
”

“I understand,” Arcadian said. “Firstly, the cure is not without side effects.”

“Side effects?” Elliot’s stomach plummeted. “What kind of side effects, and how severe are they?”

“I’ll come back to that.” Arcadian stood. He crossed the room to his desk and returned holding a letter opener. He held it up for Elliot’s inspection. It was more a dagger than letter opener. It had a silver hilt set with red stones that might be rubies for all he knew. “Exquisite is it not? It was a gift from an old friend of mine.”

Elliot nodded.

Arcadian brandished the weapon making light reflect off the blade, and then plunged it into Morgan’s chest in the blink of an eye. The man grunted with the impact, and Elliot cried out in shock. Morgan looked down at the dagger in wide-eyed surprise, and then back up at Arcadian.

“You crazy bastard!” Elliot shouted leaping to his feet and backing away. Blake took a single step sideways and blocked the door. “Let me out of here.”

“Oh hush. He’s in no danger.”

“You stabbed him in the chest!”

“Only as a demonstration,” Arcadian said, sounding defensive. “Morgan is one of my closest friends; I would no more hurt him than I would hurt myself. See for yourself.”

He turned expecting to find that Morgan had breathed his last, but he was still sitting as before. He was no longer interested in the knife. He was just sitting there with it in his chest.

“Goddess bless me and hold me safe from evil,” Elliot breathed. “What have you done?”

“Come come,” Arcadian said, his mood shifting toward exasperation. “Don’t waste the opportunity. Examine the wound. Perhaps I used a trick knife. Best you check, don’t you think?”

Elliot looked to Peter and Chani for their reactions. Peter raised his drink in salute, and Chani smiled encouragement. He approached Morgan uncertainly, and bent to examine the injury. He touched the knife feeling it vibrate with each breath the man took.

“Does it hurt?”

Peter snorted and Chani tittered.

“Of course it bloody hurts,” Morgan said in disgust, and glared at Arcadian. “I’d pull it out, but I think he wants you to do it.”

Arcadian nodded. “I want him to be sure there is no trickery.”

He shook his head. There wasn’t much blood for such an obviously deep and fatal wound, but the knife was plugging it. “We should call an ambulance.”

“Oh for Danu’s sake,” Peter said, moving to take charge.

“No,” Arcadian said softly, and Peter froze. “Let him do it. Please proceed with your investigation, Professor. Don’t take all night. Poor Morgan looks uncomfortable.”

Morgan grimaced and rolled his eyes at Elliot. “He likes his little jests.”

Elliot was shaking, but he gripped the hilt of the knife and pulled. Morgan grunted as the knife grated on his sternum, and a trickle of blood escaped his lips.

Morgan took a deep breath as the blade came free. “Thank you, that feels much better.” He used a handkerchief to clean the blood from his chin and dabbed futilely at his sodden shirt. “Disgusting stuff, blood. I’ll never get the stain out.”

Elliot held the bloody dagger and stared. “May I see?”

“Might as well see the entire show,” Morgan said opening his shirt. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Peter did this last time. I didn’t know it would hurt as much as it did.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. The gaping wound in Morgan’s chest was bleeding heavily, but it wasn’t pumping the blood out of him. He reached to touch it, but glanced up at the last moment for permission. Morgan nodded to go ahead, and Elliot fingered the edges of the wound. It was no trick. The knife was an inch wide and had penetrated Morgan’s chest for its entire length—about four inches. It had done massive damage. By rights the man should be dead. Not only wasn’t he dead, there wasn’t really that much blood. It was messy, and Morgan’s shirt was sodden with it now, but for this kind of wound it should be gushing.

He swallowed as the wound slowly closed before his eyes. It was already half as wide as it had been. He knew what Arcadian’s so-called
cure
had to be, and it was evil.

“You’re a vampire. I should have known it was all a trick. Vampirism as a cure for my daughter... you have a sick sense of humour.”

“I’m a man, not a vampire,” Morgan said but then cocked his head. “Well, a man with a little something extra, courtesy of the Arcadian.”

“How are you responsible for his healing?” Elliot said.

Arcadian reached to relieve him of the knife, and he didn’t resist. He held up the knife then slowly pushed it through the palm of his own hand. He held the hand out for inspection then pulled the knife out. A small puddle of blood welled up in his cupped palm, but then it seemed to evaporate. It hadn’t of course. It had simply been absorbed via the wound back into his body. The wound closed and faded. It was gone in seconds.

“Please take your seat, Professor, and I will explain what this means to you and your daughter.”

Elliot collapsed onto the sofa.

Arcadian put aside the bloody knife. “I am what you would call a vampire and my birth people would call a revenant. It doesn’t matter what term is used, they mean the same thing. Basically, I am immortal.”

Elliot couldn’t let that stand. “Vampires are already dead and can therefore not be called truly immortal. Stasis is not immortality.”

Arcadian scowled. “Semantics. I had hoped for better from you. Some would have you believe vampires are not alive. I ask you, do I look dead?”

Elliot turned to Chani and Peter. “Both of you as well?”

“Afraid so old chum,” Peter said and Chani nodded.

“And you?”

Morgan shook his head. “I’m something else.”

“He is my human servant,” Arcadian explained. “He’s my friend, my confidant, my aide if you will. He’s a man who will not age. Neither will he die unless I do. Even by your narrow definition of such things, Morgan is immortal.”

Morgan might be immortal by Arcadian’s definition, but was he even human? He had no data to prove things either way, but he did have past research of shifters to guide him. Like Morgan, shifters began life as humans but they underwent huge physiological changes when infected by lycanthropy; their DNA itself rewritten by the virus. Vampire wannabes underwent similar changes when they submitted to the blood exchange and infected themselves with the vampire virus. That was fine and proven data, but what of a vampire’s human servant? Was Morgan still human on a biological level? How could he know? He needed to get the man into his lab for tests.

Assuming for the moment Susan could become what Morgan was, she would be trapped forever unchanging in her twenties. No bad thing some might say, but what of the other side effects? What about daylight, and drinking blood? Did Morgan need to drink blood the way vampires did to survive? What of the soul and children? What about that? He frowned as all the old legends and stories of vampires and their servants crowded into his brain.

“Is Morgan immune to disease like you?”

Arcadian cocked his head. “Yes. Morgan is immune because I am. It has never come up, but I suspect that should some new plague strike me, he would also be infected through our bond.”

Elliot’s heart sank. “There is a bond?”

“When Morgan hurts, I hurt and vice versa. We are linked via the blood bond. When I stabbed him, I felt his pain.”

He might have felt Morgan’s pain, but he wasn’t actually injured. There was no blood on Arcadian’s shirt. “Let’s be clear. You’re saying that if Susan becomes like Morgan she will be cured?”

Arcadian inclined his head in assent. “She would be cured.”

“What about the side effects?” he said and giggled. “Vampirism is one hell of a side effect!”

“Calm yourself.”

“Easy for you to say,” Elliot said not feeling like himself at all. He felt on the edge of something both scary and momentous. “How was Morgan… how did he…”

“How was Morgan made?” Arcadian offered and Elliot nodded. “As always, the secret is in the blood. We know how it works, but we don’t know why. No one does.”

“That’s what you want isn’t it? Your research is to learn why it works?”

“The exact opposite I’m afraid,” Chani said. “The project was created to learn why it doesn’t work. Making another vampire is chancy. If I were to infect you right this minute using my blood, you would have a two in ten chance of surviving it and making the transformation, but it doesn’t end there. I might infect your daughter and kill her, or she might have a six in ten chance of pulling through. There seems no logic behind why it works sometimes and not others.”