White Winter (The Black Year Series Book 2) (24 page)

“Hi, Sam,” Jonas said.

His alter ego stepped out of the shade, an older version of himself. It was always a bit weird to see his dad’s mannerisms, his mom’s eyes and grace, and yet know one day that would be him.
And I’ll be buff,
he thought, seeing Sam had packed on some muscle. He wondered how accurate the image was.

“Good afternoon, sir. Enjoying nature?”

“I could get used to it here,” Jonas said, feeling the tension leach out of him. “How are things?”

“Progressing. I’ve taken control of several key aspects of motor control and memory. The boy still has no idea.”

♘

He was trapped. His whole body hurt like he was drowning in boiling water, but he couldn’t move. He tried shifting, which lifted him about an inch in the air before he slammed back down, and that hurt like someone peeling his skin off strip by strip.

“He’s awake.” Kieran said.

Jonas opened his eyes, but he could only see out of one of them, and all he could see was light. “Mmm mmm!”

“Easy, kid,” Frank said, moving to his side. Jonas had to turn his head all the way to the left to see him with his good eye. Frank’s left arm was in a sling. “You were thrashing around pretty bad when we got you down here. We had to restrain you. Kieran, can you go get the doctor while I sit him up?”

“Sure, Frank.”

Jonas heard Kieran leave. Frank moved out of view, making noise behind his head.
Why can’t I move?
Jonas thought.
Why can’t I speak?
He wanted to ask Frank, but the hunter had his ward on, as usual. It felt like a ghost hand had him by the sternum and was squeezing; it was making it hard to breathe.

“Got it,” Frank said.

There was a humming sound, and the world tilted.

He was in a hospital bed. His arms and legs were strapped down. The bright light was a regular tube light. Frank had moved back into view at his left side when Kieran and the doctor walked in.

“Why is that bed up?” the doctor asked, looking at Frank.

Frank shrugged, then winced and gripped his shoulder. “He was freaking out, Doc. I just-”

Jonas pushed his thoughts to the doctor’s mind.
What happened to me? What-

“Stop that!” the doctor snapped. “Stop using your powers! That’s how you got into this mess in the first place. Just stay still and I’ll unwrap your jaw so you can speak.”

He reached above Jonas’ head, pulled, then his arms starting moving around Jonas’ face. Jonas felt the tightness around his head lessen with each circuit. The last one was sticky, like he was having a giant Band-Aid pulled off and it was taking the skin with it. “Mmm mmm!” he whimpered, eyes watering.

“Damn,” the doctor said. Frank looked pale. “Your lips have fused shut. Give me a moment.” He tossed the pink-stained bandages in a yellow trash bag with red markings, and grabbed a scalpel from a nearby drawer.

Frank winced. “Hey, Doc? Are you really going to-?”

“Yes, I really am.”

Jonas tried to lean away from the approaching blade; the doctor grabbed his chin and Jonas felt tearing in his lips, a sharp stab, and then he tasted blood. “Nicked your tongue, there. No harm, just swallow until the bleeding stops, fastest healing part of the body.” The doctor set the scalpel down on a surgical tray, then squirted water into Jonas mouth with a squeeze bottle.

Jonas swallowed.
God, that feels good,
he thought. The back of his throat felt sore, his tongue swollen.

“More?” the doctor asked.

Jonas nodded. Squirt. Swallow. He closed his eye, just breathing through his open mouth for a second, then said, “What happened? Were we attacked?”

“Humph,” the doctor said. “Sunlight happened.”

“Sunlight?” Jonas asked, confused.

“Yes, sunlight. I understand this is news to you, but sunlight is deadly to vampires.”

“But I’m-”

“Yes, yes. You’re the chosen one, born of a womb into the brotherhood of the night and all that,” the doctor said, waving his hands. “But now that the Director has
finally
let me run some tests on you, I know
why.
”

“Jesus, Doc,” Frank said. “I know you’re a vampire and all, but you’ve got the worst bedside manner I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Navy Medicine.”

The doctor scowled at him. “First, I resent your stereotyping of vampires, Mr. Mitchell, although in my case it’s entirely accurate. Second, I don’t have
bad
bedside manner, I have
no
bedside manner. I don’t work in the clinic; I’m in charge of the lab.”

“What?” Frank and Jonas said.

The doctor sighed and rolled his eyes. “Why would a vampire need a doctor? He doesn’t need a doctor; he needs a week in a vat full of blood.”

“Wow,” Frank said.

Jonas swallowed the blood that had pooled in his mouth. “You said you knew why it happened?”

“Yes! Very exciting. Your body produces Serum,” the doctor said. He looked like he was about to explode with excitement.

“Then why did he turn into the human torch?” Frank asked.

“
Half
-human torch. That’s where it gets interesting,” the doctor said. “You see, your body doesn’t produce large quantities of Serum; lucky for you, really, or we’d be cutting you open to figure out how it works.”

“Doc!” Frank said.

The doctor ignored him. “Instead, it produces a small amount every day and stores it somehow. Don’t ask, haven’t a clue. But you’ve been using it up since you started training in November, and your recent activity exhausted it, so you went full vampire. No more serum, body stopped producing it, done.”

“Also, you pooped yourself,” Frank said, grinning.

“Mr. Mitchell!” the doctor said. “It’s perfectly normal for a new vampire to void their bowels. We don’t use them. Please show some restraint.”

“Sorry, Doc,” Frank said, not looking sorry at all.

Jonas was only half listening. He’d wondered if this might happen, once he started sleeping through more of the day and having trouble eating. “So that’s it, then. That was my last sunrise.”

“No!” the doctor said, like it was the punchline to a joke. “You see, I injected you with a small amount of the Serum I keep for experimental purposes. Shh!” he said, bringing his finger to his lips. “Please don’t tell the Director, she’d be furious; terribly hard to get, strenuously controlled, can’t make more.”

Jonas swallowed. “Why not?”

The doctor shrugged. “We don’t know how. Also, it involves magic, and vampires can’t do magic. Werewolves can, sort of, but compared to other species they’re really the dunce in the magical classroom. No offense, Kieran.”

“None taken, professor,” Kieran answered.

Several thoughts went through Jonas’ mind at that point. The first was,
This guy must be Kieran’s boss when he works in the lab.
He had a whole new level of respect for Kieran’s patience. The second was that his mother hadn’t given his father’s journal to the Agency. And the third… “I need to see my pendant.”

“Around your neck,” the doctor said, moving closer. “Let me just unstrap you…” He freed Jonas’ right arm and Jonas patted his chest until his bandaged fingers closed around the silver tube. He brought it to eye level and sighed in relief; he could see the golden traceries gently spinning around it, and the green line linking it to his wrist. “I’m half-human again,” he said.

“Yes, you are,” the doctor said. “Your blood Serum levels are rising very slowly on their own. How did you know? Can the specter tell? I’m not allowed to experiment on him, either.”

You stay away from me, you quack,
Madoc said.
It’s good to see you’re all right, Jonas.

Jonas was about to answer, but the doctor snapped his fingers at him. “Ah, ah! No powers.”

“It’s good to see you too, Madoc,” Jonas said out loud.

“Good. Touching reunion,” the doctor said. “But I mean it. No telepathy, no shifting, nothing that actively burns blood. Wear a jacket outside. Your Serum production is barely compensating for the healing. No swapping memories with your lady friend, either; the rumors about the two of you are simply scandalous.”

Jonas sputtered, dribbling blood down his chin. He wiped it on the bandages around his right arm. The doctor offered him the squirt bottle. Jonas shook his head.

“Right!” the doctor said, setting the bottle down on the surgical tray with a
clang
. “Experiments to run. I’ll be back later to collect samples, so try to rest.” Then he walked out.

“Wow,” Jonas said, once he was gone.

“He’s a character, all right,” Frank said.

“You get used to him,” Kieran said. “He’s probably the smartest guy I know, but he wears shoes with Velcro straps so he doesn’t have to tie them.”

“They make those for adults?” Frank said.

Kieran shrugged. “I think he had them custom made.”

Jonas swallowed again. It was mostly spit. The doctor had been right; his tongue was already healing. He looked at Frank, and frowned at the sling. “What happened to your arm?”

Frank rocked his head from side to side. “You may have dislocated my shoulder, jerking around like a flaming bat with epilepsy on the street.”

“Oh, crap! Frank, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s all right, kid. I may also have punched you in the face a couple times to calm you down; old habits from water rescue training.”

“I think I vaguely remember that.”

“Vaguely, hell! I laid you out. It was kind of nice to know I still had it in me,” Frank grinned.

Jonas smiled, which hurt. Then he closed his eyes and let his head hang for a second.
I’m so tired.

“How are you holding up, kid?” Frank asked. He scratched the back of his head with his good hand. “You were moaning in your sleep.”

Jonas looked up, eyelids heavy. “I was?”

“Yeah.”

Jonas frowned. “I was having a nightmare, I think. I thought my own mind was betraying me.”

Frank sighed, sitting back. “Well, that makes sense. What, with you auto-combusting and how those guys just walked through our cordon at Van Dyke? I’m having some trust issues too.”

“Yeah,” Jonas said.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, clan leader,” Kieran said.

“It’s okay, Kieran. I would have invited you, but it was a team thing.”

“That’s what I meant. I should have been with you in Brooklyn.”

Jonas shook his head. He winced when he felt a tearing in his left shoulder. “You work in the lab.”

“I’ve requested reassignment. I won’t let this happen again.”

Jonas felt a tear well up in his right eye. Sometimes Kieran’s loyalty blew him away. “I… thanks, Kieran.”

Kieran bit his lip and nodded.

“Is Eve around?” Jonas asked.

“She was in here with us,” Frank said. “Had to go talk to Viviane before the big debrief. I guess the other directors are going to video conference in, so it’s a pretty big deal.”

It must still be Thursday,
Jonas thought. “I want to go,” he said.

Frank wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Jonas. Doc said you should rest.”

“Yeah, but I’m the senior man on the team. Wouldn’t be right if I didn’t show up, would it?” He tugged on his left wrist strap. “Come on, get me out of this thing.”

“Well, let’s at least get some of those bandages back on your face, first,” Frank said.

“You think it’ll help?” Jonas asked, bringing his fingers to his cheek. He felt like bugs were crawling under his skin.

“No, but I think it’ll be less unpleasant for the rest of us,” Frank said, grinning.

♘

Kieran tilted the wheelchair back before steering him down the shallow ramp. Jonas mostly just sat there, legs under a blanket and bandaged arms tight to his body. He did his best not to rock back and forth with his eye shut to take his mind off the pain and the never-ending, squirming itch.

The auditorium was big, considering the size of the Agency. Jonas counted 15 rows of chairs as he rolled by. The seats in the back two rows were wider and deeper, like the chairs in his mother’s office, but there were over 150 seats in the room. About 20 of them were already filled, their occupants either engaged in quiet conversation or watching him with interest. As he reached the bottom of the ramp, Jonas noticed there were three more chairs on the left side of the stage. Viviane was sitting in one of them.

“Good evening, sir,” Chief Grady said. “We thought you’d be sleeping it off.” He waved at a werewolf in coveralls and pointed at the front row. The werewolf pulled a cordless drill from his tool belt and started unbolting a pair of seats.

“Thanks, Chief,” Jonas said.

Chief Grady gave him a wink, then walked over to talk to a pair of technicians on the stage.

The werewolf removed the last bolt, put it in his pocket, returned the drill to his belt, and lifted the pair of seats like they were made of cardboard.