Read A Shade of Vampire 22: A Fork of Paths Online
Authors: Bella Forrest
I
tried to keep calm
. River being absent from her cell didn’t necessarily mean that something bad had happened to her. It could simply be that the hunters had wanted to examine her.
Still, I couldn’t shake my nerves as I hurried out of the courtyard and went in search of her. I didn’t know where to start looking. She could be in any one of these buildings, and the longer I spent looking for her, the more time it was going to take for me to get someone here who could help her. Searching for her was in this sense stupid, but I found it hard to fight my protective instinct and not at least verify her location before I left. The many hours I’d have to spend journeying back would be all the more torturous if I didn’t.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to search for too long. Several corridors along from the courtyard, I spotted her walking with a woman in a lab coat. River looked okay on a cursory glance, even if rather flustered and frustrated. They walked past me, and as they wound around a few corners, I followed them back inside the courtyard until they reached River’s cell.
“I’m feeling hungry,” River said to the woman before she left her alone in the room. “I don’t need blood, I just eat regular human food. Could you get me something? And a bottle of water would be good, too.”
The woman gave her a brief nod. “I’ll arrange for something.”
With that, the woman clicked River’s door shut and turned on her heel, disappearing out of sight along the veranda.
River blew out a breath and plopped herself down on the bed. Her hands resting over her lower stomach, she stared blankly up at the ceiling. I wondered where the hunters had just taken her and what they had done to her.
But now I had to leave. Reluctantly, I tore my eyes away from River and swept out of the cell. As I emerged in the center of the courtyard, I didn’t take a right turn toward the exit, like a normal person would. Instead, I drifted off the floor and headed upward, toward the glass ceiling. My body passed through it and out into the icy world beyond. Snow had begun to fall heavily, and the sky had clouded over.
Scanning my surroundings, I tried to gain a sense of direction and remember which way the ocean was. It couldn’t have been all that far away, based on the length of the helicopter journey. I rose in the sky until I was high enough to see the mass of water far in the distance. If I had any luck, that would be the Pacific Ocean.
I was about to begin hurtling toward it at full speed when something directly beneath me caught my eye. A shiny black Hummer was trundling up the slope toward the parking lot. Since I’d arrived in this place, this was the first car that I’d spotted in motion. Despite my urgency to get a move on, I drifted down from the sky, closer to the vehicle.
It wasn’t so much the SUV itself that interested me, but rather the container that was trailing along behind it. It looked like a rectangular box and was covered by a large beige canvas wrapping. It could’ve just been food supplies, or new equipment… but then two men wearing heavy coats and black boots stepped out of the vehicle and walked to the container. They knelt down beside the trailer and released the hooks that were holding the canvas in place.
With one strong tug, the two men hauled off the covering to reveal…
What is that?
The rectangular container turned out to be a cage, and within the cage was a creature that made my jaw fall open.
It was a small creature, about the size of a pony. Its smooth back was coated with golden brown fur, as was its long winding tail, and hind legs. They looked like those of a lion. While its head and front legs—which were in fact talons—belonged to some kind of carnivorous bird. And now I glimpsed wings—heavy, feathered wings, that appeared to have been bound together against its back to prevent it from flying.
As strange as it looked, I realized that I recognized this beast… It had all the features of a griffin— a supernatural creature that I’d never seen before in the flesh, and had only read about in books.
So griffins really do exist.
But how did the hunters find one? And what are they doing with it?
The griffin clacked its razor sharp beak and let out a loud screech—extraordinarily loud for its size. One of the men hurried back to the truck and, opening the back door, pulled out a blow gun. There was a sharp needle at the tip of it, and when the hunter aimed the weapon through the bars, the needle shot out and wedged itself into the creature’s neck. The griffin cawed again, by the sounds of it more out of anger than pain. Its legs staggered and gave way.
One of the men climbed onto the cage and reached its roof. He bent down and opened a hatch before sliding himself down inside the bars. He grabbed what looked like a sturdy, leather muzzle from a hook within the cage and fastened it firmly around the creature’s hooked beak. Then the hunter who’d remained on the outside pressed a green button at the side of the cage, causing its back wall to shudder and lift open. The second man joined the first within the cage. They grabbed the griffin by a thick collar that was bound around its throat and tugged it out into the snow.
By now, the beast had become too weakened by whatever drug the hunter had shot at it to fight back, and even its shrieking had become more subdued. Still, it remained conscious enough to plant one foot in front of the other as the two hunters dragged it to the nearest building.
I ought to be in a desperate hurry to leave this place and reach the ocean, but as the hunters pulled that creature through the revolving glass doors, I simply couldn’t hold myself back. I promised myself that I would stay here no longer than five more minutes just to see where they were taking that griffin, and followed them into the building.
As they emerged in an empty entrance area, one of the hunters hurried off into a room at the other end of the hall. He returned less than a minute later pushing a large trolley that resembled the type you’d find at airports, except wider. The hunter parked the trolley in front of the creature before the two of them worked together to usher the beast onto it. It was too sluggish to put up a fight. It just stepped onto it, almost obediently, before its legs folded beneath it and it sat down.
Then the men continued across the room, heading toward a corridor at the other side of it. One of them pushed the trolley, while the other pulled out a phone from his coat pocket. He dialed a number.
“We’re back,” he said after a moment. “We’ll be in Room 98.”
He returned the phone to his pocket and the two of them continued winding along the corridor with the griffin until they reached a set of double doors, just before the entrance of a glass walkway.
The man who wasn’t pushing the trolley stamped his thumb against a screen, and the two doors slid open. They entered with the creature and stopped at the head of a long meeting table that ran down the center of the room. This looked like a boardroom similar to others that I’d passed through in the building where River was kept, except for one key difference. The walls of the other rooms had been mostly bare. But standing in this room, it was hard to spot even an inch of wall that wasn’t covered with sketches. Weird sketches that looked like they belonged in a fantasy art studio. All of them depicted what looked like grotesque hybrids, combinations of apparently some kind of Earth animal and at least one body part of a supernatural creature. The limbs of a bear with the face of a werewolf. The body of a tiger with the distinctive black talons of a Hawk. Gruesome mutations that I could not have concocted in my wildest dreams. Even thoughts of River got pushed to the back of my mind as I gaped around the room at the pictures.
The double doors drew open again. I turned to see a tall, slim man entering. It was Mark. Holding a phone in his right hand, he approached the trolley and gazed down at the griffin. He bent down—fearlessly close to it—and tugged at the creature’s neck, apparently allowing himself to get a better look at its face.
He stared at the griffin for several moments before nodding curtly and rising to his feet. He eyed the other two hunters. “Have you informed Evelyn yet?” he asked.
“Not yet,” one of the men replied. “I thought you might want to do that.”
Mark cleared his throat and punched a number into his phone. He raised it to his ear, but nobody picked up. “Her phone’s switched off,” he muttered. “I’ll go find her. In the meantime, wait here.”
“Yes, sir,” the men murmured.
With that, Mark marched out of the room.
Although I knew that five minutes had already passed, I was beyond tempted to follow him and find out who this Evelyn person was, and what on earth these hunters were playing at. But I forced myself to my senses.
I don’t have time.
Staying longer and trying to discover what they were doing would not help River. Not even if I managed to unravel everything about their activities. At least, not until I had someone from The Shade by my side.
I cast one last glance at the griffin before forcing myself to leave the room, although I was sure the scene I had just witnessed would haunt me long after I had left the facility.
T
hat night
, as I drifted off to sleep, I hoped that I would dream of Ben again. As disturbing as the previous dreams involving him had been… I missed him so much. I missed him more than I’d ever thought it possible to miss a person. I felt hollow thinking back over the weeks and months we’d spent together before getting separated.
What I wouldn’t give to see him again…
But that night, he didn’t make an appearance in my subconscious. Instead, my sleep was hijacked by a nightmare. My experience from the previous day, being probed and examined by Jocelyn in the lab, morphed into an inescapable horror movie, starring me as the hapless victim. She and a crowd of other doctor-scientists in lab coats were gathered round me on an operating table, freely helping themselves to pieces of my body and stuffing them in plastic tubes like the one I’d filled with urine. They had not even bothered to give me a general anesthetic. I was conscious of every cut, every nip, every pull of my flesh…
I woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. I found myself sweating and panting heavily. I swallowed hard, running my hands over my face.
It was just a dream. Just a dream.
Granted, those words didn’t have the same effect on me that they would’ve done a week ago—before the inexplicably prophetic dream involving Ben predicting Jeramiah’s kidnapping of Ben’s parents and grandfather.
I glanced at the small digital clock on my bedside table. 3:07 AM.
Although the temperature in my cell was mild, I started to shiver. I was feeling cold again. Too cold. Nothing new, of course. Unbearable chills could creep into my bones even in the middle of a desert. Even after all the time I’d had to get used to the body of a half-blood, I still hadn’t been able to figure out a pattern for my coldness. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for when the shivering came on—it just did, and all I could do was wrap myself up.
But even the blanket and the puffer jacket Beatrice had given me weren’t enough to provide sufficient warmth. I slid out of bed and entered the bathroom, where I ran myself a hot bath. Thankfully, this was effective. I continued topping up the tub with hot water every few minutes until the pain in my joints ebbed away to a more manageable level. I must have been soaking for about an hour before hoisting myself out and drying off. I changed into the same clothes I’d worn yesterday, since I hadn’t yet been provided with fresh ones.
I froze as the main door to my room clicked.
Stepping out, I almost yelped as I found myself face to face with a woman, standing right in the center of my dark room. My heart leapt in my throat. It took a few seconds for me to register that it was a familiar face. Jocelyn. Why hadn’t she turned on the light? She looked so creepy standing there so still, her arrival so unexpected. And at this time in the morning? I checked the clock. 4:13 AM.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, half tense as I noticed the large black bag she was carrying on her back, and half irritated that she would intrude on my privacy at this unholy hour.
“You informed me that you were hungry.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “Uh, yes.
Dinner
would have been nice.” Just thinking about food made my stomach whine. “I didn’t expect you to come disturbing me at four in the morning.”
“Well, I’m sorry for the delay, but I’ve brought you some food.”
I moved over to the light switch and flicked it on, removing the creepy shadows that had been playing across her face. This short, mousy-haired woman looked much less threatening beneath the light.
She removed the bag from her back and lowered it to the floor. I took a seat on the bed and watched as she pulled out three aluminum foil-wrapped packages. She laid them all out on my bedside table, along with two bottles of water.
“Thank you,” I murmured, eyeing the food and wondering what it was exactly. I reached out and touched the nearest package to me—it was soft and, to my pleasant surprise, it was also warm.
I glanced back at Jocelyn. Her bag still remained where she’d placed it on the floor, and she’d made not even the slightest show of leaving the room. She just stood at the end of my bed, watching me.
“Thank you,” I said again, louder this time, discarding all subtleties. “I am sure that this food is just fine.”
She smiled tersely. “Good. Then why don’t you eat? You haven’t lost your appetite, have you?”
I frowned at her, the warm food suddenly seeming less appealing. I didn’t fancy eating with this woman watching me like I was some kind of zoo animal.
“I would rather eat alone,” I said, eyeing her pointedly.
She nodded, though she still made no motion to move.
“I want you to leave.”
Again, she just nodded, blankly, even as she remained glued to her spot.
I gave up at this point. She was obviously going to stay in my room and watch me whether I liked it or not. I twisted on the bed and turned my focus on the food. I picked up the largest package first—the warm one. I unwrapped the foil to reveal a whole grain baguette. I parted it, examining the filling. It was stuffed with tomatoes, cheese, avocado and some kind of pungent mustard. I took my first bite, surprised that it tasted a lot better than it smelt.
Ignoring Jocelyn as best as I could, I finished the whole baguette in a matter of minutes and then moved on to the next item. An apple. I wolfed that down, leaving me with the final package—a tub of rice pudding. After eating that, I tossed the foil in the trash before swigging down some water and leaning back in bed.
“Satisfied?” Jocelyn asked, breaking the silence.
I nodded stiffly before sinking down into the mattress and pulling the blanket over me. I was beginning to feel sleepy again. It had taken me a long time to drift off last night and, thanks to the nightmare, I had not been sleeping long at all. Then the hot bath, combined with the meal, made me want to doze off again.
Jocelyn still didn’t take the hint to leave, not even after I turned out the light and buried my head in my pillow.
I sensed her drawing closer. “What was your name?” she asked.
I rolled over in bed to glare up at her. I wondered what made her suddenly curious to know my name.
“Alice,” I grumbled, for why should I tell the truth? Ben had used a false name when in hostile territory, and I didn’t see why I shouldn’t do the same.
“Okay, Alice. You need to come with me now.”
My face deadpanned. “Are you kidding me?”
She shook her head. “Come.” She held out her hand for me to take.
Although I was beginning to feel half-asleep, I didn’t know what else I could do than obey. I swung my legs off the bed, and stood up.
“Where do you wanna take me now?”
“Back to the lab.”
To go create some fresh material for my nightmares. Great.
I gritted my teeth.
She picked up the backpack from the floor and stepped outside the room. As she led me toward the exit of the courtyard, I glanced at the merfolk in the tank—even they appeared to be still sleeping at this early hour. We left the prison area and she led me back to the laboratory. She pressed her thumb against the screen next to the doors to open them. When we stepped inside, the ground floor of the lab was dark, except for shafts of moonlight trickling eerily through the glass walls at the far end of the room.
Jocelyn’s small heeled shoes clacked against the sleek floor as she moved further inside and reached for a light switch. The lights flickered on, their stark fluorescence momentarily blinding me. As she led me toward the staircase, I expected her to stop at the same level as she had the last time—perhaps even take me to the same treatment table she’d been examining me on before. But she didn’t. She kept leading me higher until we reached the fourth floor. My throat was dry as she strayed from the staircase and entered through a glass door, emerging in a section of the lab that was entirely new to me. The center of the large rectangular room was filled with tables, like the other floors I’d seen so far, but the walls were steel and lined with doors—one of which Jocelyn began moving toward. She opened the door on the other side of the room and gestured for me to enter after her.
I froze as soon as I laid eyes on the contents of the room. From the sturdiness of the table and all of the equipment surrounding it, I could tell instantly that this was an operating room. I staggered back into the main room.
I shook my head firmly as Jocelyn eyed me with a frown. “I’m not stepping into that room until you tell me exactly what you want to do to me.”
Jocelyn heaved a sigh, with an almost weary look on her face. She reached into the pocket of her lab coat and withdrew a gun. She aimed it at me.
“Look, Alice,” she said. “I don’t want to have to threaten you like this. Just step inside. I promise, this won’t hurt.”
If there was one thing I possessed, it was speed. And Jocelyn didn’t exactly strike me as the most athletic of sorts, especially in her clackety heels. Likely, I could dodge beneath the tables out of view quicker than she even managed to pull the trigger of the gun. But that thought only brought me back to the same question as before. Where would I go? Even if I managed to outpace her and avoid getting hit by a bullet, I was trapped in the midst of a colony of hunters.
But I simply couldn’t hand myself over to her like this. As futile as trying to escape would be, I wouldn’t willingly step in that room. They would have to drag me in there kicking and screaming. I had the right to know what they were going to do to my body, dammit. I was not an animal to be herded from place to place and probed all they wanted. And I would fight to not be treated like one.
I took a gulp and met her eyes steadily.
Would she really attempt to shoot me?
I knew by now that they saw value in me as a half-blood. It seemed that I was the first half-blood they had ever come across, and consequently I was also rare. But I didn’t have time to debate the matter. I had made up my mind.
Before Jocelyn could react, quick as a flash, I’d ducked beneath the table behind me.
“Alice!” Jocelyn’s voice echoed around the lab.
Keeping down low, I scrambled across the floor from table to table, winding through the maze toward the door which led to the staircase.
Her footsteps sped up across the room. By the sound of it, Jocelyn had removed her heels and she was running fast, faster than I’d expected.
But she couldn’t come close to my speed. I had already reached the exit and launched myself down the stairs by the time she’d made it quarter way across the room. I sped up, leaping three steps at a time, wondering as I did why they didn’t have a damn elevator running through this lab when they seemed to have them everywhere else. I’d almost reached the last flight of stairs when, turning the corner, I collided with someone. I was knocked backward, landing on my backside painfully against the sharp steps. My eyes shot upward. It was Mark. And approaching behind him were six other hunters.
I had not heard Jocelyn sound any alarms yet, and from the look of surprise in Mark’s eyes as he stared down at me, I guessed that he and his companions had already arranged with Jocelyn to meet us up in the lab. What else would they be doing climbing up these stairs at this time in the morning?
Which meant… what exactly?
What were they planning to do to me in that operating room that required all of them to be present?
Mark, along with the men behind him, drew out a gun. My attempt at escape had been even more short-lived than I had feared. Desperation overcoming all logic and caution, I hurled myself down the stairs. Even though they barricaded it, I hoped that the shock of my throwing myself toward them while they held loaded guns would work to my advantage.
And it did, but not enough. One of the men recovered from the surprise and he leapt at me. As he fell to the ground, his hands closed around my ankles, causing me to trip and crash down against the steps. I would have knocked my teeth out had I not instinctively put my hands out to shield my face in the fall.
“Let go of me!” I grunted, trying to wriggle away from him. I was almost successful, until the other men caught up with us and swooped down on me. When Mark approached and pressed his gun firmly against my neck, I knew that the game was over.
They quickly secured my hands behind my back with cuffs, and then they bound my feet. They carried me fighting and squirming back up the steps and into the lab. Jocelyn trailed behind us, her heels clutched in one hand.
“Convenient timing,” she murmured to one of the hunters.
They marched me back to the operating room and wrestled me down onto the table, where they secured me with metal restraints.
“No!” I yelled. My back arched, the muscles in my arms and legs straining as I tried to break free. But whatever these restraints were made from, they were impervious to my strength. A sweat broke out on my forehead. “What do you want with me?” I panted.
The hunters’ mouths remained closed in hard lines as they finished securing me in place.
And then, perhaps all too predictably, one of them reached for a syringe and sank it deep into my neck.