“I don’t know what I need,” Saba said.
“Command me, my love. For I am ever your servant.”
She smiled. “You’re my servant when it suits you.”
“True.” He stretched his arms up and out. “But when I see your eyes turn inward, I know what you are thinking.”
“I’m not there.” She rolled over and laid her head on his flat abdomen. His amnis sparked under her cheek. The trail of hair low on his belly tickled her lip, and she reached out and bit it, making him laugh. “I’m not there yet, my fire king.”
His fingers traced over the whirling spiral scars that decorated her shoulders. “You will tell me, Saba. For both of us have been quiet for too long. We are not retiring creatures. When you are ready, we will remake the world and begin again.”
“Kato will not approve.”
Arosh shrugged. “His heart is too soft toward the humans. It always has been.”
“Neither will my son approve.”
“Is Lucien your king?”
She bared her fangs and scraped fine lines over Arosh’s hip. “Be careful. You assume much.”
He yanked her up and latched his mouth over her breast, drawing long and hard at the sensitive rise until his teeth pierced her skin and Saba’s back arched with pleasure.
Arosh lifted his bloody mouth to hers, and Saba tasted herself on his lips.
“You like it when I assume,” he said.
“I will give my son a little more time,” she said, “before I take any steps he would find unconscionable.”
“Leave your son out of my bed,” Arosh said. “He has no place here.” He kissed a line between her breasts, over her belly, and south toward the garden where he’d always found his pleasure.
Saba smiled and grabbed a fistful of Arosh’s silken hair. “And who is your queen, fire king?”
“Only my Saba.” Arosh’s teeth sank into the soft flesh of her inner thigh. “Only you.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Dublin, Ireland
“Baojia said you were close. That was a year ago. What happened?” Brigid was a fire vampire and chief of security for Patrick Murphy, the immortal leader of Dublin. She was tiny, irritable, and flammable, especially when she didn’t get the answers she was after. She was also mated to one of Lucien’s friends. Carwyn ap Bryn was a former priest and current patriarch of one of the largest clans of earth vampires around the globe.
“Whatever update you can give us,” Carwyn said, “would be most welcome. Murphy has been wanting an update, as has Terrance Ramsay in London. We appreciate the tests you’ve developed—they’ve helped enormously—but new infections are still happening despite the crackdown on Elixir shipments.”
“There is no straight line in this kind of research,” Lucien said, staring into the fire. “I’ve managed to isolate the cause. That’s why we can test for it in human blood. But diagnosis doesn’t mean treatment. I can tell you what’s happening with the Elixir virus, but I can’t tell you how to treat it.”
Brigid said, “So it is a virus?”
“It’s a virus in humans that can spread to vampires. Only it mutates from human to vampire, so the treatment for one will have to be different than the treatment for the other. The test you have can detect the protein tied to the virus. But killing this virus…” Lucien shook his head. “You can’t kill it. You can only starve it.”
“So how do we do that?”
“By starving the host.”
Brigid’s face was stricken. “So that’s it? The humans die and the virus dies with them? That’s not good enough.”
“If you have some brilliant idea, I’d love to hear it,” Lucien snapped. “I’m sure your twenty-some years of life and brief stint as a vampire have prepared you for advanced clinical research.”
Brigid bared her fangs, but Carwyn leaned forward and put a steadying hand on Brigid’s knee. “You know this is personal to us.”
“It’s personal to all of us.” Had they forgotten Lucien had lost a human lover to this plague? Had suffered from Elixir poisoning himself? Rada’s pained eyes haunted him. “Pressuring me isn’t going to help.”
Carwyn said, “Baojia said Katya has given you another one of her people to help. A doctor?”
Lucien groaned. “Enough. I just came from a long night at the hospital. I thought we were having a drink and relaxing. I don’t want to talk about the new thorn in my side.”
“A thorn in your side?” Brigid said. “Sounds like I’m predisposed to like her.”
Lucien glared, but Carwyn only laughed. “Let the man have a few moments of peace, Brig. It’s not as if he doesn’t eat and breathe this project.” He turned back to Lucien. “I’m also curious about the new thorn though.”
“Dr. Makeda Abel. She’s human.”
“And?”
Lucien sighed. “Humans are fine for assistants. But not as collaborators. Her brain cannot work as quickly as mine.”
“So?” Carwyn said. “It seems to me that we need new ideas, not faster ones. Who cares if ideas come a bit slower for her if she has good ones? What’s her background?”
“Blood disorders.” He pulled at his lip as a thought began to form. New ideas, not faster ones. “She was working on some kind of… sickle cell treatment or something like that before she got pulled off her own work and put on mine.”
“So she’s there unwillingly?” Brigid asked.
“She knows how the game is played,” Lucien said. “She’s no dummy, and she grew up under Katya’s aegis. I’m sure she’s getting something out of this project other than just a paycheck.”
“Nevertheless,” Carwyn said, “sounds like both of you are stuck. She was forced into this and you were forced to work with her.”
“We stay out of each other’s way. She’s still coming up to speed on the research so far.”
“Try to make the most of it, Lucien. She may have ideas you’ve never even considered.”
❖
Those words followed Lucien on the plane back to San Francisco. He rested in the belly of the converted cargo plane belonging to Giovanni Vecchio and let his mind wander.
What could Makeda Abel know that Lucien didn’t?
The Elixir infected human blood, unlocking a dormant virus in vampires. It took different forms in humans and vampires, but both forms led to a slow wasting disease. Starving humans of blood oxygen and vital nutrients, and starving vampires of amnis. But it all led back to blood.
Human blood.
Sickle cell was a blood disorder.
No, not sickle cell.
Thalassemia.
It was thalassemia she’d been working on, a human blood disorder affecting hemoglobin, the protein that carried oxygen to red blood cells. Patients suffering from it suffered from anemia because their red blood cells died, essentially of oxygen starvation.
Cell death. Starvation. Wasting.
“Thalassemia,” he murmured. Maybe…?
It was possible Makeda’s old research and Lucien’s had some overlap. What if, instead of bringing her up to date on what he’d done, she looked at Carmen’s blood as if it was a new case? No assumptions. No research parameters.
Not fast enough.
Nothing would be fast enough to save Carmen. Nothing would bring any of the victims back. But nothing was stopping the spread of Elixir either.
“…a death that will be inevitable unless you are successful.”
For the thousandth time, Lucien wondered just what his mother was doing traveling around the world. Saba wasn’t a recluse, but she loved her mountains and usually had no desire to go wandering. The fact that she’d left her home piqued his interest. She was poking around in the Eastern Mediterranean, probably accompanied by one or more members of her old cadre. The very cadre that had spawned the idea of Elixir in the middle ages.
It was not a comforting thought.
Ziri, cunning wind vampire and elder ruler of the northern deserts, was unpredictable at best. He was manipula
tive, vicious, and very smart. Ironically, it was Ziri who had been Saba’s lover when Lucien was sired. The blending of their blood was probably what had led to Lucien’s wandering ways, which were odd for an earth vampire.
Kato, ancient king of the Mediterranean, had once been a favorite uncle to Lucien. His theios. Kato was jovial and fierce at the same time. It was Kato whose lover had first taken the Elixir. Kato who had fallen into the mindless haze that had almost claimed Lucien’s life.
And Arosh. Fire king. Ruler of Central Asia. Saba’s favorite lover. They could never be in the same place for more than a few decades, but each held the other in greatest esteem. Arosh was fiercely loyal to Saba and all his friends. He’d been the one to shelter Kato during his illness. Now that Kato had regained his senses, Arosh could be out for revenge.
Lucien had a sinking feeling he’d be meeting all of them before this was over. Someone with a very old grudge was spreading the poison Saba and her friends had helped create. They’d tried to destroy it, but nothing in their world remained hidden forever. The poison was spreading like a drop of wine in a water glass.
❖
“I want you to throw away whatever you’re working on right now,” Lucien said, striding into the lab where he’d seen Makeda’s assistant coming and going. “I want you to take all my research and set it aside.”
Makeda looked up and spun her chair toward him, but she didn’t stand. “Oh? Welcome back and all that.”
“Toss it. Look at this case as if you were seeing everything for the first time. Carmen is your only patient. You have no idea what she has or what I’ve tried in the past regarding treatment. Throw it all away and start fresh. It doesn’t have to be fast. I want slow. Deliberate. Consider anything and everything. You have no direction right now; you’re starting over.”
Lucien stood with his hands on his hips, but Makeda didn’t react. There was just that maddening slow pulse and a face devoid of emotion.
She said, “What makes you think I was following your research to begin with?”
“What?”
“I’ve already started fresh,” she continued. “It was no use going over old lines of inquiry. I’m looking at this as if it were a human blood disorder that has nothing to do with vampires.”
She’d anticipated him. Lucien was taken aback and… slightly aroused. Unexpected and inconvenient.
“Fine,” he said. “Good. If you have any questions—”
“I won’t ask you,” Makeda said. “That would be counterproductive.” She turned back to her computer.
Her disregard only made her more appealing. “You’re very quick for a human.”
“I’ll try not to be insulted by that. You’re not the first arrogant vampire I’ve worked with.”
“And you’re not the first human I’ve worked with.”
“I know.” She flipped through a notebook of handwritten notes. “You’ve got a bit of a reputation, Dr. Thrax.”
He stiffened. “What does that mean?”
“Only that a few of the younger techs would be happy to catch your eye.” She raised an eyebrow. “It’s quite well known you enjoy human women. According to gossip in the lab, only human women. But if you’re looking for company—”
“I’m not.” Lucien didn’t react. It was normal for humans to tell tales about the unfamiliar. “Do you make a habit of listening to gossip?”
“It’s practically impossible to avoid it in a lab this small. We amuse ourselves any way we can.” She finally looked at him. “And since you’re not the kind of administrator who takes kindly to practical joking—or so I’ve been told—gossip and innuendo will have to do.”
“Lives are at stake, Dr. Abel. I expect my employees to focus on the task at hand.”
Her mouth turned up at the corner, and Lucien caught a hint of a dimple in her cheek. “So do I, but I also recognize that they’re only human. Or most of them are. We all need a break now and then, or we burn out. My kind doesn’t have eight hours of sleep forced on us every night.”
“Not all my kind do either.” Lucien was old enough that sometimes sleep eluded him. Or he only grabbed a few hours of it in a night. “Fine. Enjoy your jokes and your gossip, but don’t expect me to feed into it.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Makeda said, turning back to her notebook. “I need to record some notes now. Please close the door on your way out.”
Lucien had been dismissed. The nerve of the woman…
Dammit, he was definitely aroused.
❖
One month later…
“No more,” Carmen whispered to him. “Lucien, no more.”
He leaned over the bed and spoke softly. “I’m just trying to keep you comfortable. I know you don’t want me to—”
“The feeding tube… out.” Carmen spoke through cracked lips. “I want it out.”
Lucien dabbed some petroleum jelly over her lips to ease the cracking. He ignored the sickly-sweet smell surrounding her. Once, that sweetness had lived in her blood. Now he smelled it on her breath. Her hair. The cold sweat that coated her skin.
“You’ll die without the feeding tube,” he said quietly.
“I’m dying anyway. I’m tired. I just want to go.”
She was nearly skeletal. Her heart was failing. She slipped in and out of consciousness.
“Please, Lucien.” Carmen closed her eyes. “You have never treated me, or any of the others, like experiments. Not once. Please don’t keep me alive now just because—”
“You were never experiments,” Lucien said, his throat closing up. “You are my patient. I want to help you.”
“You can’t.” Her emaciated hand reached out to grasp his. “It’s finished. You’ll cure others. Take anything you need from me for your work. It’s only a body. But let me go. Please. Stop the feeding tube. Stop the water. We both know how to end this.”
Guilt was a lead weight in the pit of his stomach. “What are you asking of me?”
“You know what I’m asking.” She squeezed his hand with surprising strength. “Please call Baojia and Natalie. I want to say good-bye. Then, if you are truly my doctor, you’ll end this. Please.”
“Carmen, you don’t want me to—”
“I was never meant to live this long,” she said, her voice stronger than it had been in months. “I was supposed to die months ago. This is not life. This is only suffering. God would not want this for me. He is not that cruel.”
He sat back in his chair, his eyes locked with hers.
Please, she mouthed. Please.
❖
An hour later, Natalie and Baojia sat on either side of her, Natalie singing a lullaby he’d heard Carmen sing to baby Sarah. Baojia held her hand with both of his, a pillar of quiet calm compared to the riot of Lucien’s emotions. Carmen’s breathing was labored, her pulse erratic. The feeding tube she hated was out. The intravenous fluid had been taken away. Lucien stood with the syringe of morphine in his hand, watching his friends say good-bye.
He reached over Natalie and inserted the syringe in the port on Carmen’s arm.
A few minutes. Less. The monitor had been switched off, but Lucien heard when Carmen’s heart stopped beating. One last breath rattled out.
She was gone.
And he had failed.
Lucien turned to see Makeda standing on the far side of the room, tears running down her cheeks.
“What are you doing here?” He didn’t recognize his own voice. It was hard. Cold.
Makeda’s watery eyes met his without flinching. “She was my patient too.”
“You barely knew her.”
“Lucien,” Natalie said from Carmen’s bedside. “This is not the time.”
Makeda said, “I know you’re feeling—”
“You know nothing about how I am feeling right now,” Lucien snapped. “You know nothing. Get out.”
Baojia stepped between them. “Both of you get out. Right now. You disrespect Carmen with your petty bickering.”
/> Lucien didn’t argue. He walked out the door, down the hallway where a clutch of other researchers had gathered, and through the double doors leading outside. He walked to the edge of the cliffs and stood, staring at the sea.
Mist soaked his coat and shirt. He stripped them both off until the water coated his body and drenched his hair. He could feel it dripping down his back as his amnis coursed through his body, reaching for something—anything—to release it. He broke into a jog. Then he ran. He ran along the cliffside, kicking off his shoes and socks. He sank his feet into this raw, untamed land and went to his knees.
His fists slammed into the earth, and he heard the edge of the cliff break away, sliding into the ocean below. He gripped the earth and pulled it apart. His amnis punched down into the soil and spread through tiny fissures in the ground. More of the cliff broke away and fell into the sea. He gripped a boulder between his hands, roaring as he sent his energy into the rock, fracture after fracture cracking the boulder until his amnis had turned it to gravel.
He ached with failure. Thousands of years of power and learning had done nothing to heal them. All his efforts. Years of research.
It’s finished.
Lucien curled into the ground and let the soil embrace him.
Please.
The raw earth closed over his body as he sank down to the bedrock.
Let me go.
❖
He woke knowing it was dusk. He’d passed the previous night and day in the comfort of the earth, but that was all the self-indulgence he could allow. There was work to be done. He rose to the surface and surveyed the damage to the landscape.
Deep cracks lined the edge of the cliffs, and several boulders had been beaten into gravel. He shored up the cliffside and spread the gravel so it wasn’t noticeable. He walked back to the lab, soil coating his skin. Clamping down the grief that threatened to make him rage, he pushed open the doors and walked to Makeda’s office. He knocked but didn’t wait for permission to enter.
“Dr. Abel,” he said as he walked in, “make sure you take the necessary samples of the patient’s body before it’s sent to the incinerator.”