He cringed as her eyes filled with anger. But it wasn’t the anger that made him cringe. It was the disappointment, and the doubt. As though she thought maybe he wasn’t such a good man after all. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened beneath his touch, but didn’t pull away. “Right now this is conjecture. We’re not deciding anything. There’s still time to discuss it.”
She gave him a curt nod and turned away. The vampire watched as she started to pace, walking out her anger. Alek moved closer to draw her attention away from his wife. “Next week, leave us off the rosters. We’ll continue testing the vaccine. We’ll wait until after the collection to distribute it further.”
Celine nodded. “By the way, you won’t see much of Reynolds from now on. She’s filling my old job. We can’t keep coming up with excuses to send her down to the floor. She’s already spoken with Demetrius and he’s on board. Find him if you need to get a message to me.”
“You’re sure we can trust him?”
“If we can’t, it’s too late to do anything about it. But he hasn’t ratted Reynolds out to me, so I think we’re fine. I know Demetrius. He’s a good guy.”
Alek nodded. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
He looked toward Hannah. “Tell Reynolds to leave her name out of it. When she recruits, I know she can’t avoid mentioning my involvement. But it should stop there. Hannah, Chris, Burell and anyone else—I want their identities shielded.”
“Okay, sure. But, Doctor...” She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “If Julia finds out what’s going on, she’ll most likely kill us all.”
“That’s precisely why I want my wife and the others kept out of it.”
“You misunderstand me. I don’t just mean us.” She waved a finger between them. “I mean everybody. Humans and vampires alike. It’s easier to kill us all and start over than to sort out who’s been changed or who’s remained loyal.”
Alek’s stomach sank as her words penetrated. He looked back to Hannah, who had stopped pacing and stood looking at them, her face a mask of horror.
“Apparently I’ve got a better grasp of the stakes here than either of you,” said Celine. “Believe me. I’m taking every precaution to protect us all.”
Alek nodded. “I appreciate that.”
“Good. Now you two should go. I’ll sneak out of here when dinner’s over and the coast is clear.”
Alek went to Hannah. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and led her toward the stairs. Once they exited the laundry room, he said, “We should get something to eat.”
“I don’t think I can after hearing that.”
He squeezed her. “It’ll be okay. What she said—it’s what Esme would do. Probably also the rest of the council. But I’m not so sure about Julia. She can be ruthless, but I’ve never known her to be cruel.”
“How well do you know her?”
“Not that well. Mainly by reputation.”
“Alek, what have we gotten ourselves into? What have we gotten everyone into?”
“It’s okay,” he told her again, but she didn’t appear convinced. “We simply have to make sure we succeed.”
TWENTY
GROUP THERAPY MEETINGS had been a regular thing at the prison, but as Chris understood it, the practice got suspended after shamblers got in and decimated the human population. The survivors apparently didn’t think sitting around talking about what happened could get them over that kind of trauma.
It was Hannah who suggested reinstating it—not for therapy so much as a convenient excuse to get everybody in one place without drawing suspicion. She sat beside him in the front row, bouncing the baby in her lap. Chris’s mom sat on his other side, with Captain Burell next to her on the end.
Burell’s transformation had gone smoothly, though it took a few tries. Whether he was immune to a shambler bite wasn’t something they’d tested yet, but he possessed the strength and the speed, and the vampire eyes when he didn’t put his contacts in.
Chris was glad. Having one more of his kind made him feel slightly less alone. And soon, if things went as planned, there would be more.
Others continued to make their way into their room and find places to sit—their people, mostly. The survivors who’d been there prior kept mainly to themselves. He noticed a few of them sitting near the back, though, and it made him uneasy. They could trust their own community. These other people were strangers, and who knew where their loyalties lay, which of them might have some kind of Stockholm syndrome where the vampires were concerned.
Chris looked around at the large room. White concrete walls surrounded rows of folding chairs and a cheap podium up front. Behind the podium, a roll-up screen hung from the ceiling, its pull cord dangling in front of the wall. He figured the inmates must have watched movies in here back when this place served as an actual prison—the kind keeping the monsters in instead of out. Did those inmates hold their own group therapy sessions in this room? What kind of awful confessions had bounced off these walls?
The doc came in and made his way to the podium. Several rows back, people gasped and whispered. Someone said, “It’s Dr. Creepy!” and Chris couldn’t help turning an irritated look on them. When he did, he heard more gasps as heads turned toward the door. He followed their gazes and saw Celine standing in the doorway.
What was she doing there?
Hannah told him it was common practice for a vampire to sit in on the group sessions, to ensure that the humans weren’t plotting against them. Celine was supposed to assign one of her people to sit in on this one. He never expected that she would come herself.
The vampire stood with hands on hips, scanning the room. She’d dressed like an actual person in a skirt and jacket, not like some kind of SWAT team member like all the other vamps Chris had seen. She looked nice. Like her new job agreed with her.
Her gaze found his, and she raised her eyebrows. He realized he was staring and jerked his head to the front.
Smooth.
He chanced another peek out of the corner of his eye and found her back turned. She stood in the hall for a moment, reminding Chris of a teacher waiting for all the students to arrive so she could shut the door. After another minute, she did just that, and then nodded toward the doc before taking a seat near the door.
The doc looked around the room. His gaze landed on the strangers, although maybe they weren’t strangers to him, considering his prior work as the prison doctor. They sure seemed to recognize him.
He spoke in his dead-on imitation of Chris’s mother. “My name is Al Johnson. Thank you all for coming tonight. Before we get started, you should know that we’ll be discussing some sensitive subjects. Subjects which could have consequences if they reach certain ears.”
Chris looked back at the strangers, an older couple and a skinny, mousey girl closer to Chris’s age. They looked at each other, and then at Celine, before turning their confused gazes back to Konstantin.
“If you would rather not hear these things, now’s your chance to leave. If you stay, then the rest of us ask that anything said in this room stays in this room.”
The older man raised his hand. Konstantin nodded. “Go ahead.”
The man stood up. He had male-pattern baldness, a day’s growth of gray whiskers, and the saggy skin of someone who had lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time. When he shot another glance at Celine, Chris could make out a yarmulke perched on the back of his head. “I’m Rabbi Zuckerman,” he said, turning back toward the doc. “And I have to say, you bear a striking resemblance to someone we used to know.”
“Is that so?” Konstantin leaned on the podium and looked intently at the rabbi. “As a man of God, Rabbi, can we count on your discretion in keeping the contents of tonight’s meeting confidential?”
He looked down at his companions, who stared back, clearly ready to follow his lead in whatever he decided. He turned back toward the front. “That depends on whether what is said violates my conscience. Will th
e things you’ll be discussing cause harm?”
“I sincerely hope what we discuss here tonight will bring about the opposite of harm. If avoiding harm to the human population in this establishment is your concern, then secrecy is essential.”
The rabbi nodded. “In that case, you have our confidence. Please carry on, Doctor.” He took his seat.
The doc only smiled at being called out. When he spoke again, he dropped the fake accent. “Very well. As I’m certain everyone in this room knows, my true name is Aleksandr Konstantin. I served part time here as the prison physician. I was also formerly a vampire. I am no longer either of those things.”
More gasps came from the women accompanying the rabbi. “How is that possible?” he asked.
The doc held up a syringe filled with clear liquid. “This is how. Administered to humans, it functions as a vaccine against the resurrection virus. Administered to vampires, it functions as a cure.” He returned the syringe to his breast pocket. “We’ve already tested the vaccine on three human individuals. I’ll not yet mention who those are. For now, here’s what you need to know.”
He straightened up and gripped the edges of the podium with both hands. “This isn’t a vaccine in the traditional sense of the word. When it comes to human diseases, vaccines typically work by exposing the immune system to a small amount of a deadened version of the virus, which effectively trains your immune system to recognize it and fight it off. This is different, just as this virus is different.
“I believe the zombification virus is a mutated strain of the same virus that creates vampires. Both viruses work by altering the host on a genetic level. This antiserum works the same way, altering human DNA to be resistant to the virus without undergoing full transformation as in the case of vampires.”
“What does that mean, Doc?” someone called out. Chris turned to see his friend Tim standing at the back.
The doc nodded to him. “It means that a human who receives this vaccine will no longer be merely human. In addition to being immune to the virus, he or she will also have enhanced strength and speed, as well as heightened senses. But as far as we can tell, the subject would remain human in every other way.”
Ned spoke up from a few rows behind Chris. “So you’re saying if we get this shot, we’ll have superpowers, but we won’t start craving human juice?”
Nervous laughter rippled through the room. Smiling, Konstantin nodded. “That’s it in a nutshell, Ned. Also, sunlight won’t harm you.”
“Would we be as strong and fast as the vampires?” This time it was the mousy girl with the Rabbi who spoke.
“No, but strength and speed will increase enough that you won’t be easy prey.” He looked around at the assembly. “Are there any more questions?” When nobody spoke up, he nodded and continued. “We don’t know the long-term effects of this vaccine. Its impacts on the rate of aging or fertility, or whether it will have emerging side effects are things we can only discover with time. Something like this would normally undergo years of testing and trials before making it available to the public. But we don’t have that kind of time. That’s why I’m asking for volunteers.
“Right now we’ve got enough serum and syringes to administer twenty-four doses. If more than that many of you want the vaccine, we’ll not only have to produce more serum, we’ll also need to reuse syringes, which will have to wait until we can safely sanitize them.”
He gripped the sides of the podium and gazed at the crowd, taking time to make eye contact with each individual. “I want each of you to think long and hard about whether you want to take this step. If you decide that you do, come and see either myself or my wife, Hannah.” He held out a hand toward Hannah, who stood up and turned around so everyone could see her.
“I’ve got a question, Doctor,” said the rabbi, getting to his feet. “You’re well aware the vampires collect our blood once a month. And judging by your altered state of being, I take it vaccinating humans against the zeds isn’t all this serum does.”
“You’re correct, on both counts. This serum also cures vampirism.”
The rabbi looked over at Celine. “I also take it there are vampires who are eager for the cure.”
Celine got to her feet. “That’s correct, but we’re still outnumbered by those who wish to remain vampires. Which is why you won’t repeat anything said in this room if you value your life.”
“Celine!” Konstantin snapped.
She responded with an eye roll and an exasperated sigh. “That’s not a threat. It’s a fact. If this gets back to the wrong set of vampires, they’ll kill us. All of us. They won’t bother to sort out who’s in on this plot and who’s not.” She looked at the rabbi. “Do you understand?”
He nodded. “I was here when Esme opened the gates and let the zeds in, all because a few people were discovered plotting an uprising. I completely understand the consequences this could lead to.” He looked around the room, and finally at the doc. “I only hope the rest of you do as well.”
“That’s why secrecy is crucial,” said Konstantin, “as is timing.” He looked out at the rest of the audience. “That’s another thing you should consider. If you accept the serum, you may need to fight. Be prepared for that. But it won’t happen until we have the numbers on our side.”
“A Trojan horse,” said the rabbi. The doc looked at him sharply. So did Hannah and Celine. The older man took off his glasses. “I’m right, aren’t I? Your cure will also work as a virus. Vaccinate us, infect the blood supply. Cure whoever ingests it.”
“We’ve considered that possibility,” said the doc, “but we’re still looking at other options.”
“What other options?”
Nobody seemed to have an answer. A moment later, Konstantin looked around the room, and nodded with a sense of finality. “If there are no other questions, we’ll adjourn. Again, come see me or Hannah if you would like to volunteer. And repeat what you heard here tonight to no one.”
People got to their feet and made their way out of the room. Chris and his mom also stood up, along with Hannah and Captain Burell, but none of them made a move to leave. The doc stepped around the podium and came to join them, just as Celine approached.
She stood next to Chris, her nearness sending electric shocks through him. He didn’t know why she had such a powerful effect on him. She was beautiful, but it wasn’t like he’d never been around a beautiful woman before. Or a beautiful vampire.
Maybe it was because she could kick his butt. Or maybe it was the way she always seemed impatient and a little awkward.
Maybe it was because she knew what it was to die and not like what came back.
Whatever it was, he only knew that being close to her made him feel alive. He wanted to get closer.
But if she felt the sparks between them, she gave no sign. Her gaze fixed on the doc, she folded her arms. “That rabbi will be a problem.”
“I don’t think so,” said the doc. “He understands the stakes, and he doesn’t want anyone harmed. He knows secrecy is his best option.”
“And even if he doesn’t,” said Hannah, “he’s our problem to solve.”
Celine looked at her. “Fine. Just be sure you watch him.” With that, she turned to go.
Chris waited until she left the room before turning to follow. His mother grabbed his hand. “Where are you going, son?”
He gave her hand a squeeze. “Nowhere. I’ll be right back.”
The hallway had already thinned out, with everyone heading back to their cells or to the common areas. Celine’s heels clicked on the tile as she headed toward the dining hall.
“Hey,” Chris called.
Her steps faltered. She slowed for a moment, but then picked up her pace again. He jogged to catch up with her. “Celine!”
She spun around and marched back toward him. “What are you doing?" she hissed. “Do you have a death wish?” She stopped and looked around. Except for the two of them, the hallway was deserted. “I can’t be seen talking to y
ou.”
“Good thing nobody’s here to see, then.”
“That’s not the point.” She turned to go. Chris debated whether to go after her. He was about to turn back when she spun toward him.
“What do you want, anyway?”
He didn’t hesitate. “You.”
She stared at him, clearly shocked. He didn’t blame her. He’d shocked himself. But he was in no mood to play games. Might as well show his hand.
She stalked toward him. “You don’t even know me.”
“I want to fix that.”
“Oh, I’m sure. Talking is what you have in mind.”
“For a start.”
“Need I remind you I’m a vampire?”
“Not for long. Anyway, who cares?”
“Everyone in charge of enforcing the rules around here, that’s who.”
“Isn’t that you now? Besides, we’re about to change the rules.” He took a step toward her. “Soon, we’ll be able to make our own rules.” Another step, and then another. She didn’t back away. Didn’t turn to leave. He kept going.
When he got close enough, she put a hand against his chest, holding him at arm’s length. “That’s close enough.”
“Not nearly.” He smiled. Her gaze flicked down to his mouth, and she licked her lips. So it wasn’t just him. She felt it, too.
“Stop,” she breathed. With a little more conviction, she added, “I mean it.”
He didn’t want to. He wanted to press closer, to pull her against him, to nibble her red lips. But he held up his hands in surrender.
Celine let her own hand drop and turned her back on him. She walked away, but only made it a few steps before turning back.
She rushed forward and reached for him, took his face in her hands and pulled him down. The kiss was short, but fierce. Her tongue tasted like copper and cinnamon, and one of her fangs pricked his lower lip. When she released him, he was breathless, and turned on, and a little in love.
“Patience, little boy,” she said. “We have more important things to worry about right now.”
He nodded. His tongue darted out to lick a bead of blood from his lip. “Just tell me good things come to those who wait.”
Deliverance of the Damned Page 12
