A Perfect Blood With Bonus Material

by Kim Harrison

  Chris put the bottle of sedative in her purse with a couple of syringes. “I doubt moving three people is going to come up,” she said. “We’ve never had a subject live longer than three days.” She looked at Winona. “This is what, day two?”

  “Winona is healthy.” Why are they scaring her like this?

  “And that’s why she was puking all night?” Chris gestured for Jennifer to get her coat.

  My heart pounded as the distasteful woman sauntered closer until only a few feet, some twined wire, and a canyon of morals separated us. “If it should come down to it,” Chris said, her words crisp and mocking, “your surly nature might outweigh your blood, and we’ll take Winona instead. Maybe you should be nicer.”

  I jumped when she smacked the door, my face burning when she laughed. “The last person who hit my cage died under a pack of dogs,” I said, but she’d already turned away.

  “Okay, let’s go,” she said, and my anger turned to hope when Eloy stood up from the monitors. They were all leaving?

  “Rachel?”

  It was Winona, and I turned to her, almost impatient until I saw her fear. My thoughts jumped back to what Chris had said. After a moment of hesitation, I went to her. “It’s okay,” I said, sitting so I could see if they took the dart gun. “You’re not going to die. You were just getting rid of something you couldn’t digest anymore.”

  “Maybe I should die,” she said, and I stiffened. “I mean, what good am I now?”

  I shoved my first response down, and settled myself more certainly beside her, rubbing my legs, aching from disuse. “Don’t talk like that,” I said, watching them bundle up with hats and thick coats.

  “You sure they can’t escape?” Chris said as she tugged on her gloves, and Eloy rattled the door.

  “I can lock them in the bathroom,” Gerald said, and Chris snickered.

  “At least then she would stop whining about potty breaks.” Her head came up. “Okay, let’s go. We have a small window and I want to use it. I’ve been stuck down here for two days.”

  She was halfway to the edge of the light, and Jennifer and Gerald fell into place behind her, talking between themselves, their tension rising. Eloy was last, and I wondered at the look he gave me as he left.

  Slowly their voices became faint, and with a thump that seemed to shake the air, the lights went out. Winona sighed, and I looked at her in the glow from the TV monitors. I could see them on the monitors at the stairway. Then even that light went off and the monitors glowed a dull gray of nothing.

  “Couldn’t leave the light on, huh?” I said sarcastically.

  Winona moaned as if in relief. “I’d rather have them off,” she said, surprising me. “The light was hurting my eyes. That annoying humming stopped, too.”

  I wondered if she was hearing the electricity in the wires. Jenks said he could. It was how he’d found that worn spot in the church’s wiring last year before it burned the place down.

  My chest hurt. Damn it, I was going to get us out of here. Somehow.

  Standing up, I squinted at the ceiling where the wire mesh met it, wondering if there was a weak spot. I hadn’t looked yet, knowing I’d never be able to take advantage of it if they knew I’d found one. Fingers looping into the mesh as high as I could reach, I gave a tug. Nothing.

  Winona sniffed, and I moved a foot down and gave it another shake. My thoughts kept going over the last half hour: the conversations being said without a word, that look Jennifer had given me when Chris whispered in her ear. What bothered me the most was that Eloy hadn’t protested their going out and grabbing someone else. He knew that putting three people in this cage was a mistake. Someone would die if they had to move fast, probably Winona, seeing that she couldn’t walk and they could make more of her with my blood. Not that they cared.

  My head hurt, and I moved down another foot and shook the mesh. And what was HAPA, a military outfit, doing working with scientists and magic, the same people that HAPA blamed for the Turn to begin with? Maybe once they got their magic elixir, they were going to turn on them, make the scientists take the blame and wipe them out with the rest of Inderland. Sounded about right.

  I moved another foot, to the corner. Giving it a shake, I frowned. It was even sturdier with that embedded pole. Perhaps it was a group of frustrated scientists who were backing HAPA. If they used genetic research to get rid of the Inderlanders, then maybe the genetic medicines that had saved so many human lives in the past might be considered safe again. I dropped back to my heels, rubbing my head. Maybe Chris was going to run off with her research when they were almost done, and sell it to the highest bidder? Yeah, that sounded like something she’d do.

  “We’re going to die,” Winona whispered, and I slid down a foot to give the mesh a shake.

  “No, we aren’t.”

  She sniffed, her rough voice sounding almost normal. “You know what the stupid thing is? I’m going to die, and I’m worried about my cat.”

  I turned to her, a lump of a shadow on the floor. “That’s not stupid,” I said, then gave the mesh a kick. I was worried about Ivy and Jenks. And my mother.

  “I wish it wasn’t so dark,” I said, giving the mesh another shake. “If I could touch a line, I could make a light and maybe find the weak spot in this cage.”

  My breath caught, and I turned around to Winona. “Hey, you’re a witch,” I said, and she made a barking cough of a laugh. “No, I mean you can touch a line, right?” I said, and the shadow she was nodded. Her little horns caught the dim light and gave me the shivers.

  “I don’t know any magic,” she said. “Especially any as complicated as making a light.”

  I quit my testing of the wire mesh and came back to her. “I do,” I said as I stood over her, the first hints of an idea making me jittery. “I can teach you.” I sat down in sudden thought, remembering how thick and stubby her hands were now. Still, she had fingers, and a ley-line charm shouldn’t be beyond her.

  “Really?”

  It was the hope in her voice that did it. Stubby fingers or not, we had to try. “Maybe we can use it to get out of here,” I added, taking her hand in mine and studying it. “I know a spell that warms things, burns them up. If you heat up the wires . . .”

  She pulled her hand from mine. “I’m scared.”

  “Winona—”

  “What if we get out?” she said, her voice louder. “What happens then? Rachel, I’m a monster!”

  My jaw hurt, and I forced myself to relax. “You are not a monster.”

  “Then I’m a freak!”

  Frustrated, I took her shoulders in my hands, making her look at me. “You are not a freak. They cursed you. Curses can be untwisted.”

  There was a glint of light on her cheek, and she wiped a stubby hand under her eye. “Promise?” she whispered. “I don’t think my cat will come back if he sees me like this.”

  I knew she was trying to be funny, and it made me all the more determined that she wasn’t going to end her life like this. “I promise,” I said, but inside I was cringing. I promise? I can’t promise her anything. What am I doing?

  “Okay.” Taking a deep breath, Winona seemed to settle herself, as if taking on the burden of seeing a great task to the end. She hadn’t merely agreed to try to get us out, but agreed that she’d try to escape, to risk others seeing her like this, and find a way to get back to normal.

  I gave her a hug, proud of her. She smelled different now that she’d gotten that protein out of her system. Meadowy and sunny. Nice.

  Pulling back, I nodded once. “Okay.” I thought as I looked at the door, knowing the lock was the weakest spot. “I’ve never taught anyone, but I’ve got a white ley-line charm that I use to warm water. I don’t know why it wouldn’t work on metal, too. If we can get the lock or hinges hot enough, maybe we can break the latch.” Stretching, I gave the door a shove, and it gave s
lightly under my foot. “I’ll do it first, then you try. You sure you can see me?”

  “I can see everything,” she said, her big eyes blinking once. “I can see better now than when the lights are on.”

  Okay-y-y-y. “I’ll give you the words and finger motions together,” I said as I scooted closer, and her head tilted down. “From candles’ burn and planets’ spin, friction is how it ends and begins,” I said, feeling silly, but the rhyme helped me remember the finger motions, and Winona tried to mimic me, her thin lips moving.

  I clapped my hands, saying, “Consimilis.”

  She jumped, and I added, “Cold to hot, harness within, calefacio!”

  Winona looked at me, hesitated, and said, “Was something supposed to happen?”

  I rocked back from her a little. “It would have if I had been connected to a ley line,” I said sourly. It had felt weird doing the charm without being connected, like walking up the stairs in the dark to find that the last step isn’t there when your foot falls through space. “Let me show you the finger motions again,” I said, and she nodded. “That’s what’s important. The rhyme is just to remember them. That and the Latin.”

  “What if I accidentally fry myself? Or you?”

  I smiled, remembering thinking just about the same thing when Ceri had taught me. “It won’t work on anything with an aura,” I said, and then my smile faded. I’d used it once to burn Kisten’s murderer to ash, but the vampire had been dead—really dead—for almost a year before I’d found him. “It’s really simple. You connect to a ley line, do the finger moves, and then say the Latin. Oh! And you need a focusing object.”

  My eyes had adapted somewhat, and I saw her screw her face up. “A focusing object?”

  I reached over to the mesh and wiggled a stray wire back and forth, trying to work it free. “Sometimes I use one, sometimes I don’t. It depends on how, ah, focused you are.”

  The wire started moving more easily, and with a ping, it separated. The end was warm in my fingers, and I handed it to her, hesitating. It wasn’t as if she could hold it while she was doing the finger moves, and putting it in her mouth like I did when I warmed water wasn’t the best option.

  “Uh, maybe you should just touch the bars with your foot,” I said. “That’s a connection of a sort.”

  Winona took it from me, and I stared, shocked when she lifted her blouse and tucked the wire behind a fold of skin at her middle. “I, uh, have a pouch,” she said, and I gaped at her, remembering to shut my mouth only when she began to look embarrassed.

  “Does Gerald know?” I said, and she grinned.

  “Nope.”

  “Well, if this doesn’t work, maybe you could smuggle something in here with us.”

  “Way ahead of you,” she said, her head going down as she pulled out a paper clip and a sharp chunk of thin plastic. “Put these in your sock, will you? They’re making me itch like crazy.”

  “Winona,” I said as I tucked them away. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’d make one hell of a runner?”

  “I went to school to act,” she said, the faint light shining on her teeth as she grinned.

  The paper clip was warm from her body, and the plastic hard, but the sensations soon vanished. “With the focusing object, all you need to do is simply look at where you want the heat to go, and the charm will act there.”

  “I just have to look at it?” she said, her tone bordering on disbelief.

  “You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” I asked, and she squirmed. “It’s not as hard as most witches make out. You can do this.”

  She nodded. “I forgot the words.”

  I stifled my sigh, wondering if I was going to make a more impatient teacher than Ceri. “We’ll do it together,” I said. “Fire burns and planets spin. Friction is how it ends and begins. Consimilis!”

  She mimicked me, and we clapped together. “Calefacio!” we both said simultaneously, our fingers moving as one. Winona jumped as the energy flowed through her, and I stifled a yelp when sparks burst from the door lock.

  “You did it!” I cried, scrambling up to push on the door only to find that it was still latched. Disappointment brought my shoulders down, but Winona was delighted.

  “It worked!” she said, not upset that it hadn’t snapped the lock. “It’s like putting a spoon in the microwave. All sparks! I’m going to try again.”

  “Hold on a sec,” I said as I gingerly touched the metal to find it was barely warm. “Give it twice what you did, and I’ll kick it.”

  “What if it catches you on fire?” she said, and I balled up my hands and took a stance.

  “Then put me out, but I’m kicking that lock the instant you say the last word.”

  Winona took a nervous breath, and I clenched my jaw, focusing on the door. This was really dumb. Why in hell had I ever abandoned my magic? Because I didn’t want to live in the ever-after the rest of my life? Because Al would be mad enough to lock me in a box? Okay, they were really good reasons, but it was time I accepted that my magic came with an awful price and just pay it, even if it left me alone and apart.

  “You can do this, Winona,” I said, deciding to worry about it later—if I had a later. “You’re a strong woman.” That metal hadn’t been very hot. Maybe she didn’t have the fortitude to channel enough ley-line energy.

  “Consimilis, calefacio!” Winona exclaimed, and I darted my foot out in a side kick. It hit the door the same time her charm did, and the mesh shook as the sparks flew. The scent of hot metal rose, but the door didn’t move.

  “Again!” I exclaimed, my pulse quickening.

  “Consimilis, calefacio!” she shouted gleefully, and I flung my foot at the door, screaming along with her.

  The door gave way, and I fell forward, my momentum propelling me into the center of the room. Exuberant, I caught myself and turned. The door was swinging shut again, the lock a glowing mess of melted metal. The stench of burning wire was choking, and I grinned as Winona stared, her mouth open and her eyes huge and black in the dim light from the monitors. “I did it . . .”

  “That was fabulous!” I exclaimed. Lurching, I stuck my foot in front of the door before it could swing back and melt shut. No way would it hold either of us again. The air, even a foot away from the glowing wires, was hot, and I held the door open with one foot while I reached in to help Winona up.

  “I can stand,” she said, scrambling up and balancing with no problem.

  “You can stand!” I echoed, my smile getting wider. “You can walk!” I exclaimed, backing up when she trotted toward me, little hooves clacking on the cement.

  “I was faking.” Winona trip-trapped to where they had put her clothes and her purse. “I played the part of a cripple one semester. Got to be good at it.” Frowning, she held up a long coat. It had a masculine cut that went to the floor and would hide her feet. “I think this must have been Kenny’s.”

  My heart pounded. She tossed my coat to me, and I caught it. The dart gun was next, right in the drawer that Eloy had put it into. “Let’s go,” I said, looking up at the gray monitors, then hissed, “Wait!” when I remembered the data book.

  Winona hesitated, and I scanned the books on the shelf, impatient until I found the one with the names of everyone they’d killed. “Okay,” I said, excited as I tucked it under an arm. “Now we can go.”

  I fell into place behind Winona, marveling at how quickly she could move, almost as fast as a vampire. I couldn’t help but stare at that little slip of a tail showing from under her coat. She was almost like a ghost as she went before me, her eyes seeing the boxes and low-hanging baskets before I did. Things were starting to look familiar from the monitors, and looking behind me, I saw a tiny red light glowing from a camera. Not knowing if they were recording this, I gave it the one-fingered salute and followed Winona to the stairway.

  This wasn’t bad,
it was almost too easy. Winona slowed, looking up the stairs in consideration. “You need some help?” I whispered, thinking of her oddly shaped legs. She was doing great on horizontal surfaces, but this was almost straight up and narrow.

  “I don’t know.” She put a hand on the banister and turned to smile. “I think I can make it, but I’ll need to go fast. Maybe if you could open the door at the top so I don’t run into it?”

  Nodding, I touched her shoulder and crept up the stairs, listening. The woman was strong, I’d give her that. At the top of the stairs, I hesitated, then slowly turned the dented brass knob. I had no idea where we were.

  The door stuck for a second, then the old paint let go and it swung open. Cooler air slipped past my feet, somehow smelling mustier than the basement. It was dark, and I gave the narrow, tall-ceilinged hall a careful look before slipping out. One way led to an open room, the other dead-ended at a window. It was even darker outside, no moon at all.

  “Okay!” I whispered down the stairs, then stood in the hall and held the door while Winona tried the first stair. She almost fell, but then she backed up, gathered her long coat, and took the stairs at a dead run.

  My eyes widened as she barreled up, making enough noise for six goats. She was out of control at the top, and I grabbed her arm to keep her from hitting the wall. Behind us, the door eased shut. I held her arm until she found her balance, then let go. Both of us were breathing heavily, me from fear, Winona from exertion. “You okay?” I whispered, and she pulled the long coat aside to look at her impossibly thin ankles.

  “I think so,” she said, then smiled, her thick canines catching the faint light. “Let’s go.”

  There was only one way, and she tried to walk softly, but her hooves clacked on the old wood floor. If anyone was here, they’d hear it. Wincing with each step, we tiptoed to the end of the hall and looked into what seemed like a restored living room from the 1800s, complete with placards and roped-off chairs. Tall windows let in the faint light and cold through thin panes of glass wavering with age. Soft emergency lights lit the space, and by a set of official-looking doors was a reception desk. Thank God. There’d be a phone.