The Taste Of Night

She made me wait for her answer, but finally heaved a sigh, causing her gold hoops to jangle. “All right. I’ll keep silent,” she said, before holding up a finger. “But only because I scent a grain of truth in what you’re saying.”

And because of the ring, I thought, though I wasn’t about to question it. I opened my mouth to thank her but she held up her hand. “And only for a short while longer. After that-”

“I know,” I said, nodding. “You’ll have to tell Warren. I understand.”

“Oh no. You don’t understand.” She shook her head, and that fierce resolve returned, her voice hot in warning, fear, and the frustration of finding herself stuck. “After that, you’ll have to tell him. He’ll decide what’s to be done with you and your instincts.”

Another day passed before Warren told the rest of us there’d been nothing the troop could do to help the mortals of Las Vegas. They’d spent their days easing the suffering of those victims found still alive, and hid as many of the bodies as they possibly could.

Why hide them?

Well, first, each body the troop stumbled on had to undergo a thorough examination, and it wasn’t of the open-your-mouth-and-say-ah variety either. If unofficial autopsies started showing up all over the valley, it would send up red flags to both the mortal authorities and the Shadows. Additionally, if we could keep the perceived number of deaths below the expected tally, maybe it would draw one or more of the Shadows from hiding to see what was going on. But that hadn’t happened. And knowing what I did about the use of initiates in such situations, I knew it wouldn’t.

But what was most discouraging was the number of victims.

“How many?” I gasped, when we’d all finally gathered back in the briefing room. Hunter was missing-he’d been out in the field twice as long as anyone else, and seen so much he didn’t need to be briefed-but everyone else seemed rested, showered, and calmed, if not exactly chipper.

“Two thousand, seven hundred, and thirty-one,” Micah said tersely. A cursed battlefield. He then flipped open a notebook and began to read from it, putting whatever was written there in laymen’s terms so the rest of us could understand it. “Basically, it’s an extremely rapid breakdown of the body’s tissue upon contact with something else. Food, maybe, because of the mouth. Or it could be some sort of flesh-eating disease, but I don’t think so.”

“So not burn marks?” Felix asked, leaning on his back chair legs.

Micah shook his head. “From what I can see it looks more like the decaying process that occurs after death. There’s a systematic breakdown occurring in the tissue in three distinct areas-mouths, hands, genitalia-though that alone shouldn’t be fatal.”

That made me pause. Strange that the virus would affect only three parts of the body. Why hands? Was it symbolic because we didn’t possess fingerprints? Because the Shadows didn’t want the mortals to discover this anomaly if an agent of Light were to fall? Whatever it was, I needed to speak up now, let Micah know it was a virus so he could focus on answering these questions himself…and work to find a cure.

But how to let them know without giving away what I’d done…and without jeopardizing what I needed to do next?

While I wondered, Chandra spoke up. “What about a biological attack?”

My head shot up. Yes. Closer…

“You mean like anthrax or ricin?” Micah shrugged and flipped his notebook shut. “Something like that could certainly affect a large group of people, but it would start in a contained area. Or at least have a point of origin we could trace it back to. These victims are spread all around the valley. Different social classes, workplaces, lifestyles. Nothing to unite them at work, play, or socially.”

“So nothing other than they all live in Las Vegas?” asked Felix.

Except that they were all gathered outside Valhalla the night of the fireworks…

Micah ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. “There is one thing, actually. A similarity in DNA, a strain of chromosomes that might indicate a propensity toward mutation of sorts. I haven’t had time to study it further, but my bet is the answer lies there. I’d have to get back to the lab to know for sure, though.” And his legs twitched beneath him, indicating he wanted to do just that.

“Wait!” I said as he began to rise. They all looked at me and I bit my lip, thinking fast. “Um, what about motive? I mean, maybe if we discover why the Shadows have suddenly decided to begin mass murdering innocents it’ll lead us to how.”

“They’re Shadows,” Chandra snapped. “Do they need a reason?”

“They don’t need it, but they probably have one,” I said, snapping back before turning away from her and addressing the rest of the room. “I mean, even if you’re right and they’re trying to draw me out in the open, it still seems a little extreme. What if it’s a trial run for something else? Something bigger?”

“That’s not how they operate, Olivia,” Warren said, squashing the idea immediately. “Humans are sometimes affected by our paranormal battles, and it’s our job to keep those individuals safe, but the Shadows don’t target groups of people. Otherwise, why not wipe out the entire city? Why not do it years ago?”

I crossed my legs, my foot bobbing impatiently. “You’re operating on the premise that the Shadows seek balance, like you do. What if that’s changed? What if they want a greater influence over the valley? What if the Tulpa wants annihilation?”

Chandra scoffed. “You can’t annihilate an entire city. Without mortals the Shadows would have no one to influence, to carry out their schemes and autosuggestions, to create chaos on their behalf.”

“Not the mortals, Chandra,” I said bitingly. “Us. What if it’s a trial run for us?”

An unsettling silence fell over the room as they each considered my words. Even Warren was listening, eyes fixed on me as if seeing me for the first time.

“I’m just saying if I were-” I was going to say Shadow, but I was half that, and wouldn’t be doing myself any favors reminding them of it. “If I were a Shadow agent and I was going to do something this big, I’d test it first. Make sure it would invade or infect the way I thought it would.”

“Test it on monkeys,” Micah murmured, mind working.

“Test it on mortals,” I corrected, because the whole of the valley had become a part of the Shadows’ experiment. They all were silent after that.

“Maybe we should…” Chandra trailed off, her own gaze far-off and thoughtful.

“Go ahead, Chandra,” Warren said to her.

“I was just thinking maybe we should all give blood samples to Micah. You know, in case it is a biological weapon. Then we can rule out for sure that none of us are…”

Infected. The word she couldn’t speak was on everyone else’s faces. Vanessa and Felix looked at each other. Riddick and Jewell did the same. Warren cleared his throat, and all eyes returned to him as he reluctantly nodded his agreement. “It’s a good idea. Everybody hit the lab so Chandra can take a sample of your blood. I doubt we’ve anything to be worried about, but it’s best to be safe.”

I swallowed hard, realizing what I’d just gotten myself into. If the virus could show up in the blood, then couldn’t the immunity do the same? After all, what was immunity but a sampling of the toxin turned safe? If I gave blood, would it send me into further lockdown? Would biology give up the secret I’d worked so hard to keep?

But if my blood did possess the immunity-and all I had was Regan’s faithless word on that-then I owed it to my troop, and the city, to offer it up. And studying the samples would take time. If Micah hadn’t discovered my immunity himself by morning, I swore I’d tell him myself. But dawn was fast approaching, and Joaquin’s address was flashing like neon in my mind. Warren could lock me up in the sanctuary for as long as it took to find a cure, but I wanted, and needed, to end Joaquin’s contemptible life tonight. Talk about a cure for the world’s ills. So I left the meeting and headed back to my room in preparation for escaping the boneyard one last time.

“That you, Olivia?”

I jumped, automatically feeling at my hip for a weapon that wasn’t there. A chuckle came at me from the darkness, and my heart settled enough to make out the shape of the man coming at me from an adjacent passageway. An orange ember was brought to his lips, flared, then obscured again in a puff of smoke.

“Shit. Hunter.” I put a hand to my chest and inched closer, joining him in the shadows. “What are you doing loitering in the dark?”

“Is that what it looks like I’m doing?” That laugh again, a sound void of humor, then