Angels of Darkness (26 page)

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Authors: Ilona Andrews

BOOK: Angels of Darkness
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She stared at him. “And where do I fit in?”
He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “You know why my people died out?”
“Because their own venom poisoned them?” Karina said.
“That. But also because the colonists had done some projections. It was decided that if we were allowed to exist, we would destroy the other subspecies and then die out before reaching the level of medical sophistication necessary to fix our defect. They poisoned us, wiped out the entire species almost completely. They were right—even now the synthetic substitutes are just a Band-Aid. See, if we could've overcome this handicap, they would've let us murder everyone else, but the problem is that only one very specific subspecies produces the hormones we need. The Base Strain. The donors. The ones who gave rise to all of us.”
She jerked her hand back. “You mean I am a descendant of the original colonists?”
“Yes.”
“That's not possible.”
“It is. Your type has a remarkably stable genome.”
“But my parents were normal people!”
“They may not have known who they were. Maybe only one of them was a donor. A donor and Subspecies 61 will produce donor offspring.”
“But what about this?” She held out her arms, speckled with brilliant red. “Explain this!”
Lucas sat up. “When I fed on you, the mutation agent entered your bloodstream. In normal humans the mutation agent has grown weak over the generations. But I am carrying a near-full dose and I gave it to you during the feeding. You are changing.”
“Into what?!”
“I don't know. I don't know what's in your DNA besides the donor genes. The mutation agent is an inhibitor. It will release the brakes within your body, short-circuiting your DNA repair, and let you develop into something that's already there in your genotype, acquired over the centuries of crossbreeding with different human subspecies but suppressed. You could become Subspecies 61, but I doubt it. Chances are, it will be one of our subspecies instead.”
They had taken her freedom, her home, and her dignity, and now they were taking away her body. “No! No, I am not doing it! I won't! You hear me?” Karina surged to her feet. She managed two steps. Pain shot up through her bones. She cried out. The world went red and she crashed onto the floor.
 
 
I
t hurt. It hurt more than any pain she could remember. At first she begged, then she prayed, then she screamed and whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut, opening them again, glimpsing Lucas's face against the harsh light of the vault, and then sinking into more pain. If only she could pass out completely and be done with it, but no, every time she tried, he shook her back, into the place of hurt.
“Come on, stay with me. Stay awake. Snap out of it.”
“Let me be,” she snarled.
“You pass out, you die. Come on. Stay with me.”
“I hate you! You did this to me!”
“That's right,” Lucas snarled right back. “Hate me. Fight with me. Stay awake. You die, Emily will be alone. You don't want to leave your daughter with an asshole like me.”
She just wanted the torture to stop.
Another bout of agony rocked her. When it was over, she was so tired, she could barely breathe.
“The other woman . . .” Karina whispered. Forcing the words out felt like trying to swallow glass. “Did she have to do this?”
“Yes.”
“Did you kidnap her, too?”
“No.” Lucas gathered her closer, holding her against him. “She was one of us. Her family were donors of Daryon.”
“Did she hurt, too?”
“Yes.”
Lucas's eyes were so dark, they seemed almost brown.
“Tell me about her.” She wasn't sure why she wanted to know, but she did.
“She was very smart. And she looked beautiful. Very graceful, fragile, elegant.”
“Not like me, then?” Nobody would call her fragile. Or elegant, for that matter.
“Nothing like you,” he told her quietly.
The agony burned through her in a crippling spasm. “Why does it sound like a compliment?”
“Because she only looked beautiful. In our world nobody has the luxury of doing nothing,” he said. “Everyone has a function. I protect. Someone else oversees mining. Someone else oversees stocks and finances. Galatea's family had only one function: to provide Base Strain to the House. For that they were sheltered, fed, and protected. Galatea never worked a day in her life.”
“Must be nice,” Karina whispered.
“She didn't think so. She wanted the mutating agent.”
“She wanted this? Why?”
“Power,” Lucas said. “She thought she would become something much more prized than a donor and she would be free of me. Her father was my first donor. She wasn't supposed to become one, but he died, and she had to take his place. She thought I was an animal. She was convinced that once I fed, she would become a Ripper and could use it as leverage to be free of me.”
“What did she become?”
“An Electric. She senses electric currents. It's not an uncommon subspecies. A lot of technicians come from it.”
“Uh-oh,” Karina managed. Her lips were so dry, but there was no water. “Let me guess: it was your fault, right?”
He nodded. “It was everyone's fault. She used to scream and throw fits, and then she wanted to fuck and she wanted me to beg for it. I was young and stupid. She was older, smarter, and beautiful.”
Karina raised her hand and touched his haggard face. “You loved her.”
“Yes. And I was so dumb, I thought it was enough. That's why I let it go that far. She once told me that we, the House, had stolen her life. She wanted to stroll the streets of London, visit the Tate Modern, go to concerts in Royal Albert Hall. I offered to take her. She told me that it wouldn't be the same. My presence would poison London for her.”
“She sounds charming,” Karina managed.
“I am what I am,” Lucas said. “No illusions. Life with me is hard, but she made a personal hell for me and her. I wasn't the one who started sex, but I finished it. I dealt with it for four years and when I turned twenty-two, I decided I was done. I went on synthetics and told Arthur to find her a different place. He transferred her to a technical work crew. She tried to stab me with a knife when she found out. Galatea was never fond of getting her hands dirty. Three months later, during an attack, she disappeared. The next time Henry sensed her presence, we ran into the Ordinators.”
“She betrayed you.”
“Yes, she did.” Lucas shifted her carefully. “And now you know the whole story.”
“Do you miss her?” she asked.
He peered at her face. “How did you know?”
“I miss my husband,” she whispered. “I don't blame you, you know.”
“For what?”
“For any of it. For the motel, for the feeding, for this.” Karina tried to swallow the pain away, but it remained. She wouldn't make it. She could feel death crouching just a few feet away. “Lucas, you're not a bad person. You have no idea how scary you are, but you're kind and patient. If things were different . . . It has to start right . . . And we just can't, because I would never be more than a slave and you would always own me. Please take care of Emily for me. Don't let anyone hurt her. She's a great kid.”
He didn't answer. He just held her.
 
 
K
arina awoke slowly. Within her body, the pain subsided, gradually, like a receding tide, fighting for every step of its retreat.
She opened her eyes and saw Lucas's neck. Her face was buried in it.
He was kneeling on the floor, looking up. She was wrapped in his arms.
Her voice shook. “Why are you holding me?”
Lucas turned to look at her. His face was too close to hers. “I didn't want you to die alone on the floor.”
She said things. Stupid, stupid things. Maybe it was a dream. His eyes assured her that it wasn't.
“Please put me down.”
He let her go slowly. Karina slid down onto her knees and sat clumsily on the floor. Her legs shook a little. She felt light, so light and cold. “Is my change over?”
“Yes,” he said.
She had survived. “I don't feel any different.”
“The change isn't always obvious. Something will trigger it sooner or later.” He was looking up again. She glanced up, too, and saw a monitor in the ceiling. It showed an empty hallway.
A man in dark clothes darted across the hallway, brandishing a machine gun, and hid behind the wall.
“We're being attacked,” Lucas said. His voice was calm, almost casual.
“How is that possible?” Emily. Henry had her. If they were being attacked, her daughter would be in danger.
More people flickered past on the screen.
“The Ripper must have been an Ordinator mole,” Lucas said. “We should've gone to a ranch in Montana—that's our evacuation route from that base. Instead we're in Detroit. This building is nearly abandoned; only the bottom three floors and the top five—those are ours—are operational. The blocks in a one-mile radius around it are basically deserted. We're sitting ducks here.”
“Why didn't Arthur evacuate us?”
“I don't know,” Lucas said. “The Ordinators likely blocked the exits. We landed into a trap.” His face was dark. “Our best chance is to stay here.”
No. No, she had to go and find Emily. “Why?”
“I'm at my limit. Normally I would be drugged and sleeping this off for the next two or three days until my body came to terms with my venom. I could barely hold you. Most likely Arthur has sent for reinforcements. The vault is solid and must be opened from the inside. It will take them several hours to get through the door, so it's likely they won't bother with us right away. By the time they get around to it, we might be reinforced. Our best bet is to stay here and wait it out. We probably die either way, but here we have more of a chance. Especially if we're quiet.”
“You have to let me out.”
He looked at her, obviously trying to decide if she was crazy. She had to convince him she wasn't.
“Henry has Emily,” she said. “She's out there somewhere.” Out in an abandoned building full of people with guns and God knows what sort of weird powers.
Lucas looked at her for a long moment.
“I have to find her, Lucas. You don't have to come with me. All I ask is that you help me open the door, because I don't know how. I'll find her myself.”
 
 
L
ucas looked at the door. If they opened the vault, he would walk out of it a dead man. She stood before him, her eyes huge and brimming with worry. She just wanted her little girl back and she didn't understand how far gone he was or how many enemies they would face.
Everyone dies, Lucas reflected. He'd been a selfish bastard all of his life. If he walked out of that door and died helping her find her child, at least he'd die doing something worthwhile, not cowering like a dog in the vault, waiting to be gunned down.
And she couldn't go out there alone. She would be dead in minutes.
He sighed, rose, and stepped to the wall. Karina clenched her hands. She couldn't read his face. He touched it and a section of it slid open, revealing a number keypad and a small speaker. His fingers played with the keys. “Cousin?” Lucas said softly.
A faint hiss of static issued from the wall, then Henry's faint voice came through. “Lucas. Red, gray, seven, pinned.”
Lucas grimaced. “Is the little girl with you?”
“Yes. Black.”
“How bad?”
“I'll live.”
“Don't move. I'm coming to get you.”
“That's unwise,” Henry said.
Lucas slid the panel back in place. “He is two floors below us. He's been shot. Emily is okay; he is keeping her under. He can't move because it's too dangerous and he is cloaking, which makes him harder to find, but they will locate him eventually. The moment we leave this vault, you and I must fight to survive. Remember how you tried to cut me with your knife?”
“Yes.”
“Find that woman and be her.”
He had no idea how hard she had worked on hiding that woman and how ready she was to let her out.
“Don't move.” Lucas walked over to the vault door, punched in a combination in the small number pad, and turned the wheel in the door's center. Something clanged inside the door. Lucas moved to stand on the side. With a soft hiss, the door swung open and Karina stared straight at a man with a gun.
“Hands up!”
She didn't move.
The barrel of the machine gun glared at her, black and huge, like the mouth of a cannon.
“I said hands up!”
Lucas nodded at her. She raised her hands.
“Subspecies?” the man demanded.
“I'm a donor,” she said.
The man's eyes widened. “Get up and walk to me.”
Lucas shook his head.
“I can't,” Karina said, keeping her voice monotone. “I'm sick. I can't walk.”
The man moved into the vault, one step at a time, careful, the gun pointing at her. He took three steps in. Lucas lunged, so quick she barely saw it. His hands closed about the man's neck. Bones crunched, and the man sagged down on the floor, limp.
A week earlier, she would've screamed. Now she just got up and ran over to the body.
Lucas staggered, leaned against the wall, and pushed himself upright. He wasn't joking. He really was at his limit.

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