When Wicked Craves (33 page)

“Of course. You’re right.” She stood up. “Now?”

“Kiril?”

“He’s in there,” she said, pointing to the formal living room on the other side of the foyer. “Sulking.”

Nick laughed. “About what?”

“You. He’s jealous. Apparently he thinks you’re usurping his life’s work.”

“I suppose I am,” Nick said.

“If only I could convince him that was a good thing.”

“Come in, come in!” Nick stood beside Petra as Marco ushered them into the lab, her brother on her other side, sending the occasional dark and disapproving look Nick’s way.

“Come. Drink.” Marco led them to the end of one of the lab tables where four glasses of wine sat among beakers of colored liquids and burlap sacks holding who knows what. He distributed the glasses, then raised his into the air. “To the reunion of old friends and the promise of better days.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Petra said.

They clinked glasses and drank as Marco began to speak. “I know only Nicholas is fully versed in the scientific underpinning of what I have discovered here, so I will try to couch my explanation in layman’s terms.”

“I appreciate that,” Petra said.

“I want you to understand how long I have been working toward this day. I created the first generation of those inflicted with the Touch over seven hundred years ago, but it’s only been in the last, oh, five hundred years that I recognized the possibility of control and began to hone that potential.”

“Control?” Nick repeated, suddenly wary. “You want to explain what you mean by that?”

Marco lifted a hand. “Goodness! Please! Forgive an
old man his excitement. I’m telling my tale all out of order.”

“Did we come here for a story? Or to examine a formula?”

“The two are intertwined. Please. Indulge me. I assure you I will get to the relevant details as quickly as possible.”

He gestured to Petra. “The first step involves an electromagnetic charge. Don’t worry, the generator isn’t yet on. But come here, my dear,” he added, grabbing one of the small burlap sacks off the lab table, and then taking her to a corner of the lab.

The area had a floor not of stone but of a dark metal. “An alloy of my own invention,” Marco said when he noticed Nick’s curiosity. “Through the use of low-voltage electricity, it focuses the power of the earth.” He grinned, as happy as a child with a new toy. “Of course, with Petra, she already has the earthen power inside her. The magical bloodline, you see. That is the key.”

“The key?” Petra asked, running the toe of her shoe along the alloy beneath her feet.

“The truth is that much of what I have worked out here today would not be possible without your bloodline.”

Petra frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Magical ability runs in your family, does it not? I saw what your brother did to those Alliance agents.”

Nick saw Petra glance toward Kiril, as if expecting him to answer, but her brother only stood there, his eyes narrow slits, as if he was so bored by the whole thing that he could take a nap right then.

“Yeah,” Petra said. “Are you saying that if I were
someone else—like Vivian Chastain—that you couldn’t cure me?”

“Not at all. I’m saying that if you were Vivian Chastain, there would be no need to keep you.”

Warning bells clanged in Nick’s head. “Keep her? What the hell are you talking about, Marco?”

“I’ve done you a favor, Nicholas. You love the woman, do you not? Now she can be at your side forever.” He smiled thinly. “However long your forever may be.”

Cold, hard fear bubbled within Nick and he felt the daemon twisting inside. “What have you done, Marco?”

“Her wine,” he said. “I added a particularly potent elixir to her wine. She won’t die, Nicholas. She’s as immortal as you. I need her for a long time, you see.”

“What the fuck?” Petra said, echoing Nick’s thoughts precisely. She took a step toward Nick, and was immediately thrown backward.

“Force field,” Marco said, and the word was still hanging in the air as Nick launched himself at his old friend, the daemon inside snapping and ready for a fight. Ready to rip the fucking head off this man—this monster—who had tricked and trapped the woman he loved.

Nick was ending this now—Marco died
now
.

Except Nick never made it.

Instead, Marco swept his arm out, sending a storm of dust from the burlap sack into the air.

Hematite.

Nick faltered, stumbling as the hematite powder coated his body. He sagged to the ground, realizing he’d
breathed some of the dust. Hematite prevented a vampire from changing to mist or animal, though speed and strength were usually retained, albeit lessened.

But Nick had
breathed
the hematite, which meant his strength was reduced even more. Now that the shock of the hematite assault had worn off, he had about as much strength as a human, and considering he was in a lab with a madman, he really didn’t think that would be enough.

He looked at Petra, who was staring at him with wide eyes, her hands pounding against what appeared to be pure air. He started to go to her, but Marco pulled a gun from a nearby lab table and pointed it at him.

“It won’t kill you, but in light of the hematite, I think it will take you out of the game. And I’m certain you don’t want to leave now, do you?”

Nick stayed put, although he did shift around just enough to look for Kiril, certain Petra’s twin would raise a gale force wind, whip that gun out of Marco’s hand, and level the lab. But Kiril was on the ground, eyes closed, chest rising and falling.

“Sedative,” Marco said. “I considered killing him, but I didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with Petra. And, frankly, he will make a fine specimen for study.”

“Why are you doing this?” Petra asked. “
What
are you doing?”

“I am creating an arsenal. With it, I will change the world and make it a better place. And you, Petra, are the lever I need.”

Petra shook her head, still confused, still terrified. All she knew was that she was trapped and he’d hurt Nicholas. She needed to understand what was going on.
More, she needed to keep him talking. He’d said that he’d given Kiril a sedative, and she was hoping—
please
—that he didn’t realize that her brother’s magical constitution required more than the usual amount to knock him out for any length of time.

“What arsenal?” she asked. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll show you,” he said, then pushed a button. A tile in the wall slid open, and a cage rolled in. A cramped cage holding a naked, raging vampire, its mouth sewn shut with sloppy stitches, its arms and fists battering the hematite bars that encased it.

“One touch,” Ferrante said. “One touch from you and we get another weapon. Another creature to do my bidding. Don’t worry, I’ll shoot it first. Not to kill it, but to knock it out so that you can safely get close enough to touch.”

“You’re insane,” Nicholas whispered, which was exactly what Petra was thinking.

“What do you mean, do your bidding?” Petra asked, hoping that Marco was hyped up enough on his freakish plan that he’d keep talking about it. And talk and talk.

“How do you think I managed to already eliminate two members of the Alliance? I control the monster. I speak to Serge. I speak, and he obeys. And soon the rest of the Alliance will fall.”

“Oh dear God,” Petra whispered.

“At first, centuries ago, my control over these beautiful creatures was sporadic. And there is none when the monsters are young, still raging about from the change. But over time, whenever one of my cursed created a monster, I was able to hone my skill. To use subtle bits
of magic to focus the connection between me and the monster. And then the damned Alliance began killing the monsters off as well as the cursed who made them. Bastards!”

“Magic?” Petra said. “You use spells to connect?”

“There is a bit of magic involved, yes. I think that is why you are so precious to me.”

“Precious? How?” Petra glanced toward Nick, who was eyeing the room, as if looking for a weapon. Kiril was still on the ground. But she saw his fingers twitch and hoped that meant he was waking up.

“With Serge, I have more control than ever before. I am certain that it is because your magical heritage concentrated the power of the curse, rendering control simpler. It makes sense, don’t you see, since both the magic and the curse come from the earth.”

“Fine,” Nick said. “But you already have Serge. You have your all-powerful whipping boy. So do this one thing for me. Because you once loved me as a son. Free the girl from the curse.”

Marco turned slowly toward Nick, every movement signaling danger. “First of all, as I have explained, I seek to build an arsenal, and for that I need Petra. Now that I know she creates a monster that I can control, I would be foolish to afflict the curse on another and simply hope for the best.”

“Afflict the curse?” Nick repeated, his mind spinning as he tried to put together a plan that would get them out of there, and alive.

“Second of all, there is no cure.” He spoke harshly, his words cutting Nick to ribbons, and surely doing the same to Petra. “None that I have found, anyway.

“And finally, my darling Nicholas, I did once love you. At one time, you were my prodigy, my student, my friend. But that ended long ago. And if keeping this girl from you will cut you deeply, then I will joyfully strike that blow against you who destroyed my work and murdered my friend.”

“You bastard,” Nick whispered, ignoring the way Marco’s words stung. It had been the daemon, he told himself. And it was a long time ago.

“Giotto had the answer, you know. He truly did.” Ferrante tapped his temple. “Right there in his head. And it would have worked. But you struck him down, and I was never—
never
—able to reproduce the formula he had developed.”

“Were you upset I’d killed your friend, or crushed because you had to work harder to find immortality?”

“I had to seek another avenue,” Ferrante said, ignoring him. “Another way to draw upon the eternal flow of life. It took over a decade of study and experimentation. Of failure and of death. But I finally found the way.”

“I see where this is leading, you hypocritical prick,” Nick said. “You didn’t find immortality through alchemy. You found it through black magic. The dark arts that you supposedly disdain.”

“Through the power of the earth, Nicholas. Through the earth, and through the blood.”

“Sacrifices,” Nick said.

“Very good! You are as clever as I remember. Yes, sacrifices. But not blood sacrifices.”

“What then?”

“For my longevity, I must present a sacrifice willing to carry the curse of the Third.”

“My family,” Petra whispered, and Marco pointed a finger at her.

“Yes, yes. The young lady has been listening. The sacrifice is the center of the ceremony. The sacrificed takes the curse, and I am rewarded by the Third for presenting the sacrificed with the gift of life. Each monster created extends my life, too. It’s all a beautifully symbiotic relationship.”

“That’s insane,” Petra said, the edge of hatred in her voice. “You didn’t get volunteers. What did you do? Did you drug my ancestor?”

“The sacrifice must be willing,” Marco said. “I merely offered what the person needed. Most often money.” He nodded at the bracelet Petra wore. “Payment for a sacrifice. I’m surprised your family kept it. I had expected they would sell it for food or rent.”

“You sick son of a bitch,” she said, then slammed her hand hard against the force field.

“And the Third?” Nick asked. “It’s playing this game for revenge? Through the monster your sacrifice creates?”

Marco shrugged. “Who knows the mind of a god? I speak only of my own revenge. A vampire destroyed my ambitions without retribution. The Alliance destroys my monsters and my cursed ones. The shadow world preys on humankind, Nicholas. It is vile. Corrupt. A plague, a blight, and I have the power to erase that scourge forever. I knew this when you first came to me with talk of a dark lady. And with every year that passes I see how insidious the shadow world truly is.”

If he rushed Marco, he would undoubtedly suffer a gunshot wound, but unless Marco got him in the head
or the heart, Nick should be able to continue without needing extraordinary time to heal. He had only human strength now, though. Could a wounded human overtake an immortal? If only Kiril were awake.

He clenched his fists, frustrated, and worked to keep the madman talking. “You would do better? What do you think you’re accomplishing with all this?”

“Eradication. A new beginning.” He smiled, slow and scary. “You have heard of the prophecy? I consider myself the hand that guides it.” He glanced at Petra. “As the inscription on your bracelet suggests, we are all of us moved by the hand of fate.”

“By fate?” Petra said. “
You’re
the one that sent Serge after Dirque and Trylag.”

“And the others as well,” Marco said, without a hint of remorse.

“You said you sacrifice for your
longevity
,” Petra said. “Not for your immortality.”

“She is such a clever girl. We will become great friends, I am certain.”

“Each sacrifice only gets you so many years, doesn’t it? That’s why my family line only goes back a couple of centuries.”

“It is so. And soon, I must sacrifice another. But that is none of your worry. You need only touch those I bring to you.”

“Not happening.”

“I think it will,” Marco said, and as he spoke the air shifted, colors swirled, and a tunnel opened.

And right in the middle of it stood Serge. He burst from the wormhole and scooped Nick up so quickly and like so much garbage that Nick had no time to react at
all. And then the monster thrust Nick up and held him aloft, the pressure on Nick’s head and spine such that with the subtlest flick of his wrist, Serge could rip Nick’s head right off.

“You will touch the creature in the cage, Petra dear. Because if you don’t, your Nicholas will die.”

“You hurt him,”
Petra yelled, “and the first opportunity I have, you better believe I’ll slit my own throat. I die, and you’re all out of luck, you freakish son of a bitch.”