Knights of Black Swan, Books 7-9 (Knights of Black Swan Box Set Book 3)

by Victoria Danann

  “Not by a faux vampire.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Jean Etienne looked at Monq like he was senile. “I’m going to give her blood. As we agreed.”

  “You mean…?” Monq’s expression vacillated between astounded and horrified. “You’re not going to let her…”

  “Bite me? Yes. I am. What did you think? That I was going to allow you to fill little syringes? With immortal blood?” Jean Etienne looked genuinely entertained by Monq’s naivete. “Indeed no. I was not, as you say, born yesterday.”

  “You think I would use your blood for nefarious purposes?”

  “Perhaps not you. Perhaps someone who works for you. The prospect of living forever could cause ordinarily honest people to act out of the ordinary.”

  Monq scowled. “As much as I’d like to argue, I see your point. And I hadn’t thought of that. So you’re going to allow each of these four vampire to, ah…”

  “Bite me. Yes. I am. And we’re going to begin with her.”

  Monq looked dubious, but he was more beggar than chooser in that situation. “What do you need from us? The environment is sterile.”

  “It matters not. I’m not subject to mal effects of bacteria. Likewise, I’m not carrying anything with deleterious effects.”

  “What about your clothing?”

  “By the time the subject’s body might react to such things, she will have properties flowing through her veins that would render her immune.”

  Monq looked uncertain.

  Falcon jumped down off the bed and stood in front of Monq. “You are not considering letting this… guy in there with her!”

  “This ‘guy’, as you call him, is her only chance, Falcon. Are you so sleep-deprived you don’t know that?”

  He stood in front of the opening. “No. That’s final.”

  “Falcon,” Monq began, but Jean Etienne held up a hand to stop Monq from trying to reason.

  Jean Etienne caught Falcon’s eye and hypnotized him almost instantly. When Falcon went to sleep, Jean Etienne caught him and lifted him onto the bed as if his large muscled body weighed no more than a baby.

  “Perhaps he needed a little sleep. Yes?” Monq simply stared at Jean Etienne. “Do not be concerned. He will awake feeling refreshed and…”

  “Relaxed. I know. I’ve recited that line hundreds of times,” said Monq as he looked at the vampire who used to be the J.U. Operations Manager. “You’re sure this is the best way?”

  “I will control the amount. Tiny increments. As agreed.”

  “Okay.” He shrugged. “It’s your…” Monq caught himself mid-sentence, deciding that it would be stupid to say it’s your funeral to an immortal. “Whatever you say,” he finished. “I’ll let you in.” Monq walked toward the control pad and looked back at the vampire, who was studying him with an amused expression. Monq dropped his hand. “I don’t suppose you need me to let you in.”

  Jean Etienne began shaking his head on the outside of the enclosure and finished on the inside.

  The vampire possessing the body of Genevieve Bonheur rushed him in a fury of fangs and pupils dilating to make the pale blue eyes look even more disturbing. But before she reached him, he held up his hand and froze her in place.

  He switched from English to French and said quietly, as one would to calm a wild animal, “I will not hurt you, mademoiselle. Nor will I allow you to hurt anyone else. You will drink from me until I tell you to stop then you will return to your cot and sleep for a while. Do you understand?”

  Apparently Jean Etienne was able to pierce through the guise of psychosis and reach cognitive function. She nodded her head slightly, though she looked confused by her own actions.

  Jean Etienne opened his shirt, baring his hairless chest. He took Genevieve’s hand in his and used the once-manicured nail on her index finger to open the vein in his neck.

  “Drink,” he said. She looked hungrily at the rivulet of blood. Jean Etienne gently pulled her face toward his neck. Her tongue flicked out and touched the scarlet liquid. After lapping eagerly for a few seconds, she bit down.

  Jean Etienne knew she’d already taken more than he’d intended. “Stop.” He felt her desire to resist, but her mind wasn’t strong enough to overpower his will. “Stop.” He pulled her away gently but firmly, and then said, “Sleep.”

  She turned, crawled onto the bed that was bolted to the wall, lay down as obediently as a sleepy child, and closed her eyes so that she looked peaceful as a picture in repose.

  Jean Etienne appeared in the hallway again. “Next,” he said.

  Monq watched as Jean Etienne fed the other three vampire though he noted he allowed the males to drink only from his wrists and not his neck.

  When all four had received their first “treatment”, Jean Etienne’s clothing looked like he’d been to a massacre.

  “Do you have some spare clothing?” he asked Monq. I’ll be staying until the subjects awaken to monitor the results of the first test.

  “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

  Monq stepped a few yards away and instructed one of his lab assistants to procure men’s clothing in a size large. When he returned, he asked, “How long do you expect them to sleep?”

  Jean Etienne lifted a shoulder. “Perhaps four, perhaps five hours. Impossible to say conclusively since this has not been done before. But I will be here.”

  “I see. What can I do to be hospitable and make you comfortable in the meantime?”

  Jean Etienne pursed his lips. “TV?”

  “We don’t have a cable feed in this section of the building, but I can bring you a device with television programs and movies loaded.”

  Jean Etienne smiled. “That will be fine.”

  “Would you like anything to, um, eat or drink?”

  Jean Etienne smiled. “Just a chair so that I can sit in the hall and keep an eye on the subjects.”

  “Of course.”

  When Monq’s assistant arrived with soft khaki pants and a flannel shirt, men’s large, he told the assistant to get maintenance to bring one of the cushy overstuffed club chairs down from the bar and put it in the hallway. The assistant turned around and left, mumbling something about the hallway turning into a lounge.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Day Three - Psych Eval

  “Yeah. Sao Paulo,” Glen said between mouthfuls of prime rib, end cut, well done, a tiny bit charred on the outside. “But that wasn’t nearly as bad as Marrakech.” Glen blinked rapidly like he was surprised he’d said that. “This is confidential. Right?”

  “Nothing has changed since last night and the night before, Sir Catch. What you say goes no further than these old ears. What is it that needs to be privileged about a reference to Morocco?”

  Glen took in a breath that caused his chest to heave visibly and let it out. “It’s just not like any other unit. Half the knights there are jumped up on something. On any given day you’ll find a few tweaking, and if you don’t think that’s a recipe for disaster… A trained knight in that condition?”

  Monq had been a professional at listening for so long he rarely had to school his features, but that revelation caused him to work at looking passively detached. He was shocked that such a thing could be going on in an installation of Black Swan, but would have bet The Order’s bank that if Glen said it, it was true.

  While Monq was trying to sort his thoughts, Glen continued, “I didn’t know whether to be more afraid of the leeches or being accidentally shot or staked by another knight hallucinating. It’s nothing like this.” Glen waved to indicate Jefferson Unit. “It’s the unwashed crotch of the world and people who are sent there by The Order act like they fit right in. They have whores coming in and out of the unit.” He laughed and shook his head. “It’s not even considered a security compromise.”

  Monq couldn’t help looking a little unsettled as he reached for his wine. “Do you know how many posts you’ve been assigned to? Altogether?”

  Glen cocked his h
ead slightly, thinking. “I’d have to make a list.”

  “I see. Tell me, why did you choose to be a floater?”

  Glen stopped eating long enough to gape at Monq. “Choose?” The bitterness in his chuckle was unmistakable. “You’re kidding, right? Who would choose that?”

  “I looked at your file. You’ve had eleven assignments since your induction. Hardly time to put your full weight down in any one place.” Glen continued eating, pretending to be blasé about what Monq was saying. “What about girlfriends?”

  Glen shook his head. “Girls? Yes. Girlfriends. No.”

  “Didn’t you used to be close to the Storm girl?”

  Glen stopped chewing and, judging from the look on his face, Monq perceived that he’d hit a nerve.

  “Long time ago, doc.”

  “Hmmm. And no family, you say?”

  “Again. You read my file. You know there’s no family.”

  “Tell me how you feel about that.”

  “I don’t feel anything about that. There’s nothing to feel. Some people have families. Some don’t.” When Monq appeared to be waiting for Glen to continue, he took a sip of wine and added, “I was put in foster care before I was old enough to have any other memories. I thought there was something wrong with me until I was recruited by Black Swan.” He shrugged. “You know, because I can make sounds that aren’t completely, ah, human. That’s when I learned that there’s some werewolf mixed in. I was told likely one quarter. That would be one of four grandparents, none of which ever turned up asking about me. To my knowledge.”

  “Did you try to find your parents?”

  “No.”

  “You weren’t curious?” Monq read the hesitation on Glen’s face. “Oh. It’s not that you weren’t curious. You were afraid to learn that they had never regretted giving you up.”

  Glen nodded, looking like the idea had haunted him most of his life.

  “Tell me something. If you could have anything from life, what would it be?”

  Glen smirked, but didn’t hesitate. “A do-over. And don’t ask me what that means because it’s personal and I’m not going to…”

  Before he finished the sentence, the screaming began.

  “What the…?” Monq was out the door surprisingly quickly for someone his age.

  The sound was coming from the part of the labs where vampire specimens were contained. Glen was right behind Monq. When they reached the enclosures, the air was filled with a macabre duet of screams coming from two of the male vampire. The headless corpse of the third was lying on the floor of his cell.

  Monq looked at Falcon, who’d been awakened from his vampire-induced coma. He looked decidedly rattled.

  “What happened?” Monq asked him.

  “The biter started screaming and throwing himself against the walls.” Falcon looked at the remaining two males. “Like those two are doing now. That fucking Frenchy disappeared, then reappeared inside the cell. He ripped the guy’s head off and vanished with it.”

  Just as Falcon finished relaying his eye witness report, Jean Etienne appeared in the cell of one of the two other vampire. As Falcon had reported, Jean Etienne forcibly removed the head of the specimen who seemed desperate to get out of his skin and vanished with the head while the rest of the corpse slumped to the ground. Monq, Catch, and Falcon watched in morbid fascination, meaning that they wouldn’t have been able to look away no matter how hard they might have tried, as the process was repeated.

  Jean Etienne reappeared in the hallway next to them. When the immortal looked at Genevieve, all eyes followed his gaze. The psychotic expression she’d worn since she’d awakened in the lab had been replaced by an expressive intelligence that looked remarkably like that of the Operations Manager prior to infection.

  They stared at her for a few seconds before Jean Etienne said to Monq. “The only conclusion I can offer up to this point is that the experiment was largely unsuccessful.” Glen was thinking that was the understatement of the century. “Whether or not this is something worth pursuing seems doubtful. However…”

  Jean Etienne looked down at his clothing, soaked in blood. “I’d like a shower and more clothes. Then I will look in on the subject who appears lucid.”

  Monq couldn’t recall having ever, before in his life, been speechless. He attempted to clear his throat, but failed at even that, making a sound that was part gargle and part choking. With a concentrated effort, he composed himself enough to say, “You can use the shower in my quarters. I’ll send for more clothes.” Monq pointed at one of the assistants who’d been drawn to the scene because of the ruckus. “Marissa, please show our guest the way.” To one of the white coats standing by, he said, “Bertron, please bring another change of clothes. What you brought before will do. You can leave them outside the door to my private bath.”

  Bertron nodded and left as quickly and quietly as a trained butler.

  Falcon hadn’t looked away from Genevieve since he’d awakened. When Jean Etienne was gone, he said, “She’s different. You can see she looks like herself. I want to talk to her.”

  “Let’s let Jean Etienne evaluate her condition first.”

  “Why? It’s not like he knows her.”

  “Just indulge me. Shall I review our agreement? You can stay so long as you don’t interfere.”

  Looking at the scene of carnage that had become of three-quarters of that part of the lab, Glen said to Monq, “You’re not going to be high on the maintenance crew’s popularity chart. I’m thinking we’re done for tonight.”

  As he walked away, Monq croaked, “Dinner tomorrow night at seven.”

  Glen paused, looked back over his shoulder and shook his head. “Only at Jefferson Unit.”

  When Jean Etienne returned looking clean, wearing jeans and a dark navy Henley, he walked toward the enclosure where Genevieve was being held. He arrived just as she had risen from the cot and approached the glass wall separating her from Monq and Falcon. She no longer looked rabid. More than anything she seemed confused. She had just opened her mouth to say something when Jean Etienne’s approach drew her attention.

  His pace didn’t slow when he reached the barrier between the hallway and the cell. He more or less blinked out and then was on the other side.

  Genevieve did not appear alarmed. Personnel who are easily alarmed are not candidates for being hired by Black Swan.

  “What am I doing here?” she asked Jean Etienne in English.

  He answered in French, which was understood by both Monq and Falcon, because he thought using her native language would help put her at ease.

  “Unfortunately you were infected by the vampire virus,” he said.

  She took a step back as the recognition of that truth sprang into her consciousness. She brought a hand to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears almost instantly.

  Falcon said to Monq, “He shouldn’t be the one talking to her. She needs the familiarity of somebody she knows.”

  “Quiet,” Monq said without looking at Falcon. “Let him handle it. We could be looking at a miracle and, as a scientist, I don’t bandy that word about indiscriminately.”

  Falcon chuffed.

  “I remember,” Genevieve practically whispered as big tears rolled down her face. “So that means that I…” Her eyes jerked to Monq, whom she could see looking on from the other side of the glass, then moved to Falcon and lingered there for a few beats.

  “You exhibited all the symptoms. Yes,” Jean Etienne continued.

  “Then how…?” She looked down at the scrubs she’d been dressed in after having been brought into the lab, then ran her hands over her body as if she was checking for wounds. “How is it that I feel… all right?”

  Before Jean Etienne could answer she took in a big gulp of air. “I didn’t hurt anyone, did I? Please tell me I didn’t hurt anyone.”

  “What’s important for the moment is how you are feeling. Do you know who I am?” She shook her head. “We’ve never met. I’m Jean Etienne. I’m
a vampire. A, ah, real one. I’ve been working with Black Swan to find a cure for this virus that plagues your dimension.”

  Genevieve was clearly wrestling with a desire to restore her dignity. “Yes. I know about you.”

  While it was clear that Jean Etienne was studying her current state, he was also deftly managing a difficult situation with kindness, the sort of kindness that isn’t transmitted by words, but by expression and intonation.

  She looked over at Monq and Falcon again before returning her attention to Jean Etienne.

  “You have ingested some of my blood. It appears that you’ve been restored to yourself. Perhaps temporarily. Perhaps permanently. It’s too early to know. That’s why we must carefully observe you for changes, however small, in the coming hours and days.”

  “I see,” she said, making every effort not to sound plaintive. “No. I don’t see really. When you say I’m restored to myself, you mean I’m not going to want… blood. Is that what you mean?”

  “No. I mean your personality has been restored. But I don’t want to be dishonest. More than likely your biology has been permanently changed.”

  Genevieve stared at Jean Etienne as if he were a devil come to take her soul to the nether realms. “You mean the next time I’m hungry it will be for…” She couldn’t quite manage to say the word out loud.

  “For blood. Yes.” She looked so distraught and horrified that Jean Etienne wanted to say something to soothe her. “It isn’t bad, you know.”

  “Oh, gods.” Genevieve clutched at her stomach and all but stumbled back to sit on the cot.

  Seeing that his effort had not had the desired effect, Jean Etienne looked at Monq as if for help.

  “We do not know for certain what you will want or when you will want it. This is new to all of us. You’re the first person ever to be exposed to the virus and drink immortal blood.”

  Incredulity had replaced disgust when she looked up at him. “I’m an experiment.”