Girl, Forsaken Page 16

  “I am not a murderer.”

  “That is a matter of perspective. But let’s not get lost in semantics. We have no one else and Sasha trusts you.”

  “So, tag,” I say. “You’re it.”

  “And if I don’t want the job?”

  “Then,” says Arsen, “you’ll live with the weight of betraying your best friend in her time of need and the guilt of your people’s deaths in your heart. You’re an earnest man, Mr. Tate. Is that enough motivation to accept Sasha’s proposition?”

  Is it? Jackson is a do-gooder, a goddamned knight in shining armor ready to cast down the forces of evil with nothing more than a wooden stake and a plucky smile. It would be comic if it isn’t so deadly serious.

  I watch Jackson weigh the pros and cons in his mind. He looks at me, and after a few moments, he nods tightly. “Fine, but I want to to know everything. And I want to know now.”

  We spend the next ten minutes filling Jackson in on Niko and Demetri, what I’d learned about the virus, and Arsen’s sister parasite-tainted slide, the secret meeting I overheard, and Demetri’s attack on me, and everything in between. When I’m done talking, I sense that Jackson’s angry, confused, and a bit shocked.

  He finally looks up at Arsen, “I’ll still do it, but I’m doing this for Sasha. I trust her judgment, even if she does have questionable tastes in boyfriends.”

  “You’re clever Mr. Tate—for a human.”

  I squeeze Arsen’s arm. “Look, there’s something else we need from you Jackson.” I glance back to Arsen and I know that he knows what I am going to ask of my best friend.

  “What’s that?”

  “We need you to help us break into the Baetal compound.”

  Chapter 21

  It's a warm night, but I shiver as we gather in the shadows behind Niko's compound. I've been bouncing between fevers and chills all the way here, and I know it's a bad sign. I'm getting worse, and fast.

  "We need to do this quickly," I whisper to Arsen and Jackson. "In and out as fast as we can. We stay under the radar if we can, but speed is most important here."

  I’m not sure I’m physically up to this, but I pull on my big girl pants and make it happen. The possibility of death has a great effect on one’s ability to perform.

  Jackson nods in understanding, already focused on the task ahead. Arsen puts a hand on my shoulder, meeting my eye for a moment. He knows why I'm in a hurry. I've been trying to keep cool and not show how bad I'm getting, but he sees right through me like he always does. I smile at him reassuringly, the most I can manage right now. Then I turn my attention back to the matter at hand.

  "There's a way in just over this fence," I said. "A security door into the main building. It can usually only be opened from the inside, but the guard who patrols the hall keeps it propped open so he can take smoke breaks. I heard Niko chewing people out for leaving it open at least three times, but Demetri uses it for his smoke breaks, too, so he lets them get away with it. As long as we take the guard out before he sounds the alarm, it should be a fairly straight shot to the lab. We stay low and quiet as long as we can."

  "And you stay back," Jackson says, giving my shaking hands a meaningful look. "Let me and the bloodsucker handle any obstacles. We don't need you losing it in there."

  It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but I nod, accepting that he has a point.

  We scale the fence, dropping silently into the shadow of an outbuilding. We stay in the shadow of the wall as we move forward toward the main building. There aren't many people wandering the compound tonight, luckily. For a moment, I think we might make it to the door completely unchallenged. Then Jackson puts out an arm, stopping Arsen and me in our tracks. We hold still, silent as ghosts in the shadow, listening to the crunch of footsteps on gravel approaching from around the corner of the outbuilding. Unhurried, but not a casual stroll either. A guard on patrol probably. Jackson reaches for a stake on his belt but Arsen stops him, catching his hand. They exchange a brief, dangerous glance, but Arsen holds up a finger. One second.

  Jackson relents and I watch Arsen move faster than I ever imagined, his speed causing a wind to rise, gentle at first and then harder, kicking up dust.

  The guard stops, coughing, as the wind throws dust into his face. We hurry forward under the cover of the dust cloud, the open security door in sight, artificial light glowing from the hall beyond it.

  A moment later we're safely inside, and I kick the brick keeping the door open out of the way, letting it fall quietly closed.

  "Fingers crossed that was the guy on his smoke break," I whisper to Arsen.

  "Shh," Jackson hisses, reminding us we're in enemy territory.

  The hall we're standing in is empty at the moment and sounds fairly deserted, but it's brightly lit and we don't know how long it'll be before someone comes along.

  "This way," I say, and lead them forward to the lab. I still remember the way pretty well, and even if I didn't, I can track it with my own vampiric powers.

  I pin my attention on my favorite microscope from the lab, focusing on it. It's harder than it should be. My thoughts are scattered, and I'm distracted by the rushes of restless heat and cold running through me. Trying to focus my powers feels like getting hit with static and feedback from a badly tuned radio. I wince and give up. It gave me a general direction, which is all I need. I know where I'm going. Mostly.

  "How are you doing?" Arsen asks me quietly as I pause at a juncture in the hall, squinting as I try to remember the fastest way, my head aching. There's a frustration rising in me that's getting harder to push down.

  "Fine," I lie, picking a direction. "We're almost there."

  "Hang in there," he says gently, something close to a plea in his voice. "We'll have you fixed up soon."

  I nod, but I can't pretend I'm not starting to worry. There's a darkness crowding the edges of my vision, pulsing with the hot flashes. But I'm still on my feet.

  Just as we start to move forward again, a door opens directly in front of us, so suddenly that I stumble back into Arsen's arms, my knees suddenly unreliable. A man steps out, blinks at us in confusion for just a second before Jackson lunges forward, shoving a small syringe into the stranger's neck. He goes down immediately, without a sound.

  "Silver nitrate solution," Jackson explains, lowering the stranger to the ground and smoothly pocketing the syringe again. "He'll be out for a few hours. That's how it's done."

  He grins at me smugly, but then we both hear the scrape of a chair against the floor from inside the room the stranger had just left. Inside, another very startled vampire jumps to his feet and grabs for a radio. Jackson pulls out a throwing knife, and Arsen lunges at him, but they're too late.

  "Intruders!" the vampire shouts into his receiver. "Intruders near the west lab!"

  Jackson blade digs into the man’s ribs and Arsen tackles him, but we all know we're boned.

  "Double time," I order, leaning on the doorframe for a moment as my vision wavers. "Let's go."

  Arsen tries to support me but I shove him off, my skin feeling too raw to be touched, and hurry away, fighting to keep my focus as I lead them around the corner. The lab doors are in sight, but vampires are pouring out into the hall between us and it, most of them looking confused but ready to fight as news spreads of the intruders.

  "Get to the lab," Arsen says, pulling a short sword from his back.

  Where the hell did he get that?

  “We'll cover you."

  I'm getting too fuzzy to argue with him. I feel the parasite rushing like a poison through my veins.

  Arsen and Jackson jump into the fight like a well-oiled machine, taking advantage of their opponent's disorganized confusion to open up a path for me.

  Arsen's swings scatter vampires left and right, driving them toward Jackson, who pulls a shotgun off his back and sends bursts of silver nitrate-treated birdshot spraying into their ranks. Birdshot doesn't normally do much damage, even to humans. I'd seen my uncle accidentally hit
with a load of birdshot while hunting pheasant when I was a kid. It hurts like hell and makes a big messy wound, but the pellets don't penetrate far enough to hit organs, generally. It could never stop a vampire in its tracks. But with the treated shot, it doesn't need to. Once the silver is in their bloodstream, they don't stay on their feet more than another few minutes. It's not as immediate or effective as the direct shot of silver solution he used earlier, but I can see that it's certainly enough to take the fight out of someone.

  I stay close to Arsen, watching their backs, but the sight of even the minimal bloodshed by Jackson's shotgun is enough to make my head spin. The wild frustration keeps growing, half the parasite, half my panic at how fast it's progressing. Part of me wants to scream, to flail and fight, to bury my teeth in anything that will hold still long enough. Fear makes a home in the bottom of my chest.

  Arsen waves me through yet another path, even as he flings out a dozen strikes to keep the vampires back. But they're starting to get themselves together now. I'm seeing weapons and more organized fighting. Arsen and Jackson are strong and work well together, but they aren't going to be able to hold out against a horde like this for long, especially not as the stronger vampires, ones with powers as strong or stronger than Arsen's, start showing up. I hurry for the lab, knowing we don't have time.

  I shove through the double doors and Arsen and Jackson close ranks on the other side to guard me. The doors swing shut between us and I'm alone in the lab.

  For a moment I take comfort in the familiar surroundings, catching my breath. My fangs are out and my claws dig into the laminate of the counter I lean on. I'm getting too far gone. I have to rein this in or I won't be able to make whatever cure there might be.

  I scan the room, spotting Demetri’s notes on his desk in the back corner. I highly doubt he would have infected me with this without a backup plan in case he decided he needed me and my miracle blood again. He's almost certainly got a cure formulated, if not made up already.

  I take two strides toward the desk before I see something come swinging at my head out of the corner of my eye.

  I catch what I belatedly recognize as an IV stand and rip it out of my attacker's hands with a burst of sudden strength and aggression, raising it to hit the other person before I even recognize that it's Demetri, apparently caught off guard during a late night at the lab. I freeze for a moment in recognition, and Demetri takes the opportunity to lunge at me.

  Neither of us are fighters by nature, but he's a slightly older vampire, stronger and more experienced. He gets his arms around my torso and I hit the ground, the IV pole skidding away.

  "You should be dead by now!" Demetri shouts, slashing at my throat with his claws. I barely manage to block the blow, swinging a fist at his head and catching him in the ear. He stumbles off, dazed, and I scramble to get back to my feet. Demetri snarls in frustration. "Why can't you just die when you're supposed to?"

  "I guess I'm just uncooperative like that," I say, but my vision pulses in and out, and I'm not sure how much longer I can stay on my feet. I don't think this is a fight I can win. "This doesn't have to end badly for either of us. You're smart enough to know Niko's plan is never going to work the way he wants it to. Help me get the cure out to everyone and you'll be a hero."

  "I thought you were smarter than that," Demetri scoffs. "Of course it's going to work. It's already worked. All the pharmaceutical companies in the world are pulling the same scam and raking in billions for it. Find a disease that kills people in slow, terrible ways, and sell them a partially effective treatment that they'll have to take for the rest of their lives. And because they literally can't refuse to buy your product without resigning themselves to a painful death, you can charge whatever you want for it! If you make a permanent cure at all—which, really, why would you bother? You make it exorbitantly expensive and sell it exclusively to the powerful people you want in your pocket. That's the formula for ruling the world, Sasha!"

  "It's murder!" I shout, horrified by the very concept. "It's a formula for an angry mob burning your lab down! No one will allow this to happen!"

  "They already are!" Demetri says with a manic laugh. "That's what I keep saying! Diabetes, AIDS, half the cancers on record. The humans have already successfully argued in court that the fact that people will die without the treatment just increases demand!"

  "This plan can go one of two ways. Either the rest of the clans find out and you and everyone involved in this get dusted, or your little plague continues to get more and more out of hand—the way it already is, numbnuts—and wipes out our entire species."

  "The is completely under my control," Demetri insists, but I can see the defensive hunch to his shoulders. He's as worried about the plague continuing to spread out of control as I am. "I made it. I can control it!"

  "You're an idiot!" I scream at him. "You create a sickness that you can’t even cure? Then you double-down and make a parasite you can’t control? You're not in control of anything!"

  I see Demitri's eyes widen, but he refuses to admit any wrongdoing. He roars and throws himself at me again. I dart out of the way, but my legs are wobbly. I stumble and he grabs me by the shirt, throwing me back into one of the counters. I smash a wooden stool on my way down and slam my head against the edge of the counter. He jumps on me while I'm dizzy, getting his hands around my throat.

  "Fine!" he snarls as he squeezes, choking the air out of me. "If you're patient zero of the new strain, then I'll just kill you now before you can infect anyone else!"

  I struggle, clawing at his hands, and kicking to throw him off. I'm too disoriented by the parasite pumping through my veins, the fever clouding my reasoning.

  "Just let go," Demetri hisses, leaning closer, putting his body weight into the hands crushing my windpipe. "Just die! If it makes you feel any better, the data I get from your autopsy will be a huge contribution to finding a cure for both strains. So die already!"

  I flail, the fear and viral rage rising in me with nowhere to go. There's nothing I can do, until my flailing hands touch sharp wood. A piece of the broken bar stool. I swing it up with the last of the strength I have and bludgeon Demitri in the head with it. He lets go with a shout, but I keep my grip on the wood even as I roll away, coughing and gasping, feeling the horrible sensation of my vampire healing trying to re-inflate my crushed trachea, struggling to breathe around it.

  I hear him move, ready to attack me again. I turn, and as he lunges at me, I meet him halfway, the broken chair leg braced in front of me.

  Without enough time to stop himself, or even realize what I'm doing, Demetri impales himself.

  Wooden stake to the heart. Oldest vampire killing trick in the book. Demetri’s eyes are the size of saucers, staring down at the chunk of wood sticking out of him. I'm staring at it too, at the blood rushing out of it, washing over my shaking hands. My vision pulses in and out. There's a roaring in my ears.

  "Oh, good," Demetri mutters his last words. "You've killed us both."

  As he hits the ground, a small leather pouch falls out from under his shirt and onto floor, and a 3 x 5 spiral notebook, one I’ve never seen before, slides out, opened.

  Chapter 22

  I struggle to get my head clear and slap Demetri 's small notebook onto the counter, hoping I haven't obscured anything important with the big bloody handprint I've left on it.

  Jackson and Arsen have finally kicked enough Baetal asses to reach me in the lab. They stand on the other side of the counter that I'm carefully keeping between us. They arrived as quickly as possible, when they heard me fighting with Demetri, but not soon enough. They've braced the doors. Arsen uses his strength the bend the metal and twist them into a makeshift bolt. But it won't last. I hear the other vampires hammering on the doors and looking for other ways in. We have no time. And even if we manage to do this, I'm not sure we'll be able to fight our way out.

  I can't look Arsen in the face. The horror in his eyes, the fear for me, cuts like a knife. I can't stop
shaking, I can't put away my fangs and claws. I feel like a cornered animal, surrounded by enemies. Arsen starts to come around the counter toward me and it takes all I have to move back and not lunge at him.

  "Don't!" I snap, anger making my voice harsh. "Don't come near me!"

  "Sasha—" Arsen’s voice is soft with concern.

  "Listen to her," Jackson says, catching Arsen by the shoulder and pulling him back. "She's losing it."

  "We can still do this," I say through clenched teeth. "I can still do this. I just need . . . I just need to focus. Watch the door."

  They move back to the door, and a little of the wild rage recedes. Not much, but enough that I force my attention to Demetri’s notes. I scan through them as quickly as I can, discarding anything that's not about the virus or parasite and potential cures. There’s so much in here. So much I’ve never seen. Things that could’ve helped, if I’d had access to them earlier. He's kept all the work I have done on it, claiming it as his own of course. Dick.

  "Arsen," I snap, shoving the relevant notes left in the spiral notebook at him. I sound angrier than I mean to, partially because my throat is still recovering from my near strangling. "Take this. Guard it with your life. That's everything we've got on the sickness. Demetri was holding things back from me. I can’t go through it all, but there should be enough there to make an effective cure."

  "What about you?" he asks, folding them carefully and putting them into his coat. "Will it work on you?"

  I shake my head . . . a sharp, jerky motion.

  "It was based on the proteins in my blood that stopped the virus," I explain. "What Demetri gave me is already resistant to that cure, or it wouldn't have worked on me. There may be something else but . . . just . . . just watch the door."

  I keep reading through the other notes as I speak, certain Demetri must have had at least an idea of how to kill the parasite he implanted me with. He was an idiot, but he was still a scientist. He would have had a plan for accidental exposure. Please, please let him have been smart enough to make a plan for accidental exposure.