Quicksilver (The Bloodline Series Book 2)

by Gabriella Messina

  “She is converted.” Vincent’s eyes snapped back open. Ivan’s face was calm as he met the younger man’s gaze. “I am sorry to be so…blunt. My apologies. My life… I have learned to pass by the niceties.”

  “She’s…like me?”

  Ivan nodded. “She is… exactly like you.” The old man reached into his pocket, pulling out some coins and setting them on the table beside his coffee cup. He picked up the cup, draining its contents, then stood up. “I wish you luck, Vincent Kremer. I hope you find everything you are searching for.”

  Vincent blinked rapidly, trying to focus, his mind reeling from all that Ivan had told him. “Uh, yes… Thank you, sir.”

  Ivan adjusted his fedora slightly, and smiled. “I do not need your thanks. But… one day… I may ask you to do a service for me… for my family.”

  Vincent nodded quickly. “Of course, sir.”

  The old man touched the brim of his hat in a sort of salute. “Until then, Vincent Kremer, peace be with you.” With that, Ivan Karolyi walked out of the café and quickly disappeared into the crowds of people filling the streets of Centru Vechi.

  **************

  Industrial Zone (Dublin 12)

  Co. Dublin, Ireland

  Peace be with you… Vincent glanced once more at the address on the paper Ivan Karolyi had given him, then up at the marker in front of the entrance. This was the place… an industrial park outside of Dublin. Vincent looked through the gate, watching for any signs of movement, but at this hour of the night any work that had been going on in the various buildings on the property was long since over for the day. The entrance gate required a key card or code, neither of which Vincent had, so going over would appear to be the only option. He pocketed the precious paper, and began to walk along the wall surrounding the park. He took out a cigarette, lighting it quickly and enjoying a long puff as he studied the wall. It was high, but certainly not too high for him… not anymore anyway. The aftermath of infection and conversion had been brutal to say the least, and Vincent doubted if he would have even survived if Hudson hadn’t cared for him so carefully. But after all of that passed, Vincent began to see the other changes, and he had to admit the enhanced abilities almost made the whole thing worthwhile. Almost.

  This portion of the wall was quite high, but in Vincent’s experience this type of perimeter wall always had a lower spot. He wasn’t sure if that was by design, or a by-product of less than careful construction, but he had yet to see one, including the one that had surrounded his father’s place of employment, which didn’t have the lower spot. He took a final drag of his cigarette, tossed the remnant aside and walked on. Vincent studied the wall as he walked, looking for the spot, the dip in height… and there it was. Vincent stood for a minute, studying the portion of brick wall in front of him. It wasn’t old, so finding gaps to grip might be difficult. Vincent backed away from the wall, looking over the ground between himself and the wall, looking for anything that could trip him up as he went. Once he was satisfied it was clear, Vincent focused on the spot on the wall where he wanted to grab first. With a running start, Vincent launched himself at the wall, his right hand grabbing a spot nearly two-thirds of the way up. His left hand quickly found a grip as well, and he slid his feet onto minute ledges formed by the edges of the bricks. Vincent looked up again, searching above him for another gripping point. There was a good one, nearly at the top, but it would be a difficult grab. Focusing on that point, Vincent took a deep breath, bent his legs ever so slightly and used the strength in his right arm to power himself forward. His left hand grabbed the spot and Vincent quickly used the momentum of the launch to swing his right hand up to the top of the wall. Moments later, he pulled himself up onto the top of the wall, swinging his legs over and dropping down on the other side.

  Vincent listened, then quickly scented the area, searching for any trace of werewolves. He caught a few scents, but they were not near. Reaching inside his coat, Vincent pulled out the first H&K, checking to make sure it was loaded and ready to be used. Then he did the same with the second, carefully checking the mercury-filled bullets inside. He’d brought plenty, although based on the scent he wouldn’t need more than a handful to get the job done and get Alice out of there.

  Alice…

  The old man had said she was infected… turned… like him… but she was his Alice, his little sister… They only had each other left now, and Vincent would rather take one of his own bullets than leave her there. He couldn’t bear to think of what may have happened to her in the time since the attack had happened. It did no good to think of it… all he needed to do was get her out of here.

  Vincent scented one more time, trying to pinpoint the direction where the werewolves were. The scent seemed to be strongest towards the back of the property, which made sense... Vincent hurried along, his footfalls light on the dirt pathway leading along the back of the buildings. He was grateful for the dirt, which allowed him to move more quickly and quietly in his boots than he would have been able to on concrete or blacktopped pavement.

  He reached the end of the building and stopped, peeking around the corner. All clear. Vincent hurried across to the next building and kept going forward through a second and third opening. He stopped at the edge of the third building to scent again… Four males… young ones, like him… one slightly older than him, and…

  Alice…

  Vincent could smell her, even with the taint in her blood like his own, she was still his baby sister. He could feel the tightening in his chest, the moisture stirring in his eyes, and for a moment Vincent thought he might crumble with the weight of emotion he was feeling. He’d found her… she was so close… and soon they’d be on their way… anywhere… Didn’t matter where, so long as they were together… They wouldn’t have to be alone anymore…

  Vincent inhaled deeply, and froze. Another scent was in the area, one he knew… one he remembered from that fateful night. His emotions quickly shifted gears, and Vincent could feel the waves of anger, remorse, and vengeance begin to wash through him. The connection with his sister’s scent was broken and Vincent honed in on the other scent. Oh, yes, he remembered it… it had been close to him, so close and for so long that night…

  He started forward again, but the scent had distracted him enough that he didn’t look. The encounter with the other werewolf was brief enough, culminating in Vincent shooting it soundly in the chest and the creature falling to the ground, the melting process beginning even as the werewolf howled for help. Vincent quickly prepared himself… others would be coming and he needed to be ready to take them out quickly, preferably before anyone realized exactly who he was… before anyone realized he was there for Alice.

  They weren’t long in coming, three werewolves exiting the large hangar-like structure on the end and rushing into the driveway leading between the buildings. Vincent readied his guns and took aim just as the three werewolves scented him and turned in his direction. He took them out with three clean shots, keeping his gun aimed even as they fell to the ground. More were coming, reacting to the sound of the shots and the screams of those melting. Vincent aimed his weapons toward the far end of the building. He could hear their footfalls, smell the adrenaline and pheromones and sweat… He took a deep breath as several more werewolves ran around the corner, carefully took aim and shot one after the other. They dropped like ducks in a fun fair game, stumbling to the ground in heaps, their breathing heavy from running, then strained and ragged as the mercury flew through their system, destabilizing their cell walls and destroying their inhuman DNA.

  Vincent ducked behind the corner of the building to give himself time to scent for others. He couldn’t hear anything… inhaling deeply through his nose, lips slightly parted so the air could flow into his mouth and over his tongue, he tasted the air, his heightened senses searching for any signs of werewolves. He could only sense… two… Alice… and HIM.

  Vincent glanced around the corner. All clear. He quickly checked his weapons, then t
ook off running down the driveway between buildings and toward the final building at the end.

  The scent grew stronger as he ran, every breath as he ran bringing her scent to him. They were together, he was certain, and he hoped the brute hadn’t hurt her, although part of Vincent knew it was almost a certainty. His memory recalled the last sound he had heard… Alice’s screams in the dark…

  Vincent slowed as he neared the building, his keen eyes scanning the exterior for any signs of a trap, as well as trying to pinpoint how he could best get inside. He scented again… only the two inside… and for a moment a thought flew through his mind… strange they’d be on their own…

  Vincent crept along the front of the building, ducking under a window as he passed it, then another, then a---

  “Vincent…” He froze. Of course, they would have been able to scent him as well as he could scent them, but the sound of his younger sister’s voice saying his name still caught him off guard. Vincent swallowed hard, uncertain whether to reply, or continue trying to find a way in.

  The answer came moments later, when the door behind him opened slightly and he heard his name again. “Vincent? Is it you?”

  Vincent turned to look. There was no one at the door, but light shone out from inside. He gripped his weapons tightly and took several careful steps back toward the door. Using his left arm, he pushed the door open, keeping his guns ready as he walked inside.

  His eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light inside and Vincent saw he was in an office, a large office with business equipment on one end and what looked like a sort of efficiency apartment on the other end, complete with sofa bed, kitchenette, and walk-in shower. By the window facing the clear northern sky stood a telescope… and Alice.

  She was little changed, yet seemed grown… mature… She was barefoot, her slender form dressed in flared jeans and a tee shirt that read “Daddy’s Little Girl” across the front in graffiti-type lettering. Her hair hung loose in long waves… it had grown and was nearly to her waist. Her eyes searched his face, and she smiled.

  “Vincent? Is it really… really you?”

  Vincent fought the tears threatening to spill over, swallowing hard before he replied. “Yes, darlin’… It’s me.”

  Her smile spread into a grin and she hurled herself across the space separating them and into Vincent’s arms. They hugged tightly for what felt like forever and a moment all at once. Vincent broke the hug first, his hands resting on her shoulders, his expression suddenly serious. “Alice, we have to get out of here now.”

  Alice’s smile faded slightly, and a puzzled frown creased her forehead. “Leave? Why?”

  It was Vincent’s turn to frown now. “What do you mean, why? It’s why I came here, to get you out, to take you home.”

  “What home, Vincent?” Alice backed a step away from him, then another. “We have no home. Everyone’s gone. This is home now.” She gestured around the small living quarters. “We’ll find a new place, but for now it’s plenty of room for the three of us.”

  “Three of us?”

  Alice smiled again. “Of course… you and me and John.” She glanced toward a secondary door leading presumably into the main warehouse. “You remember my brother Vincent, don’t you, baby?”

  “Yes, sweetheart, I remember him.” The electric charge that went through Vincent when he heard that voice speak nearly made him blind with rage. He struggled to control himself, to control the wolf, even as he felt the gray come into his vision. He couldn’t lose control, because if he did he’d kill them both. Vincent focused his breathing, willing the nerves to settle, willing the change to stop and shift back into neutral. He took a deep breath, then another, closing his eyes momentarily. When he opened them, Vincent could see clearly… all too clearly.

  The large blond man sat on the sofa bed now. His shoulders were broad, and it was clear he worked out to maintain an impressive physique. His hair was longer on top, falling down onto his forehead in a rakish sort of bangs. His eyes were steel blue, but not cold… No, there was fire in those eyes, be it rage or passion or both. Vincent had never seen his face that night, and it irked him that the person sitting in front of him seemed like someone he could have been friends with.

  “We never actually got to meet,” the blond man began, holding out a hand. “John Prutzmann.” He held his hand out a moment, waiting on Vincent to respond. Vincent glanced at the hand, then back at Prutzmann’s face. Prutzmann pulled his hand back, his smile still present but with a tense edge. “Yeah, well… Hudson wouldn’t let anyone come to see you afterwards. Then you just disappeared, so…”

  Alice skipped over, perching herself on Prutzmann’s willing knee. “But now he’s here with us…finally!” She threw an arm around Prutzmann’s shoulders as she smiled at Vincent. “My two best guys together.”

  Vincent watched Prutzmann’s hands on his sister, and he knew what had to be done. “Alice, get up off of him.”

  The smiles faded from both faces. Alice moved her hand up to Prutzmann’s hair, stroking him gently as she talked. “Vincent, I’m not a little girl anymore, you can’t order me --”

  “He killed our family!” Vincent could feel his emotions taking over… grief, anger… and he struggled to control them, knowing that if he changed it would leave him vulnerable, easy to capture, easy to kill, and that could not happen. “Mum, dad, the boys… He…held me down while they took you… Infected me… and you…” A wave of disgust swept over him as he looked at them, cuddled together on the bed like two… lovers… “Jesus, Alice, how could you?”

  “Vincent…”

  “Get off of him now!” Vincent raised his right hand, aiming the gun in that hand at the two on the bed. The tears he’d struggled to keep suppressed we’re begin to fall, the strain of two years of searching, running, hiding… and killing… Good God, the killing! He’d put down so many of them, they’d given him a name… “Wolfmordor,” the wolf killer… Not the most inventive thing in the world, but it did the job… He’d spent two years killing his own kind, systematically exterminating them as he tried to find her… and now…

  “Get off of him, Alice… now, or I’ll--”

  “What, Vincent?” Alice jumped up, planting her feet and facing off with him from across the room. “Shoot me! Are you going to put me down, Vincent, like you did all those others? They had families, friends, people they loved… but you killed them… killed them all…Are you going to do that to us?” Alice took a single step toward him, her hand outstretched as she continued. “We only have each other now, Vincent… You and me… I need you, Vincent.”

  Vincent felt his resolve weakening… then movement caught his eye. Prutzmann had gotten up and was moving toward the door he had come in, the one leading to the main warehouse and escape. No!!! Vincent turned the gun to aim it at him. Alice was moving, too, and Vincent expected to feel her hands on him trying to stop him. But it never happened. The gun fired and Vincent heard a small gasp, and everything grew quite still until the sound of Alice’s body hitting the floor broken the silence.

  Prutzmann stared at Alice for a moment. Then he looked at Vincent, turned and ran into the warehouse.

  Vincent watched as he left… the man who had killed his family, infected him, destroyed his sister…

  “V-V-Vin…cent…” His sister’s voice drew his gaze back to her for a moment. The mercury was coursing through her body. In minutes at most, she would be gone, melted into nothing but a puddle of silvery waste by the chemical reaction taking place inside of her. She grabbed his arm, gasping as she spoke. “V-Vincent… don’t… don’t… hurt… him…”

  When Vincent Kremer looked back on that night, the second worst night of his entire life, he knew that was the moment when something broke inside of him, when he stopped caring, when he stopped wanting to care… It was, in his mind, the ultimate betrayal, that in this moment of death, her plea was for him to spare the life of THAT…

  Vincent stood up, backing away from his little sister, his Al
ice… He drew both guns, turned and walked out of the building, the sound of Alice’s screams echoing in his ears as he disappeared into the night.

  Chapter 22

  Bright Lights, Big City Coffee Shoppe

  Broadway, off Park Row

  Sam leaned back in the window booth, her gaze fixed on the street outside. Her talk with Hudson had been draining… plus he’d managed to coax her downstairs for another blood draw. She wasn’t entirely sure why she’d decided to call Frank Ronne then… she kept trying to tell herself it was simply for the ride to work, but when they swung by their favorite coffee shop near City Hall, Sam knew it was more than that. Learning the truth about Vincent had been intense… she needed coffee and sugary goodness… and she needed a friend, and those were few and far between anymore.

  She glanced back into the coffee shop, at the smiling clerk handing Ronne the tray with two coffees and a pastry box. They exchanged a few words and the clerk laughed a bit too loudly. Sam stifled a smile and turned her gaze back to the street outside. Ronne had that effect on women sometimes… Okay, all the time. The man was handsome, and more than that, he was smooth. Not creepy smooth or scummy smooth… just SMOOTH. He couldn’t help himself, he just was, and you really couldn’t help but like him. The man oozed sincerity and a genuine sense of –

  “Sam?” Sam jumped slightly, though she knew it was Ronne, and turned to see her coffee cup suspended in front of her. “Cream and stevia, right?”

  Sam smiled. “Yes, thank you.” She took the coffee, relishing the feeling of warmth that the hot cup sent through her chilly fingers up through her hands, arms, into her very bones. She watched as Ronne sat down across from her, carefully taking the lid off his coffee and reaching for one of the sugar packets. He put one packet into the cup, stirring it carefully with one of the stick-stirrers, then bent to carefully take a sip. The careful sip ended up being a noisy one, as the coffee was steaming hot and Ronne quickly pulled away, his lips making a slurping sound as he did. Sam giggled, and Ronne squinted at her in the best attempt at a glare he could make while he struggled not to laugh.