Secret Unleashed

resurgence of nausea made me certain I hadn’t been introduced to Saint Peter and the pearly gates.

“Bloody hell,” I grumbled. My whole body felt like one giant bruise. It didn’t hold a candle to the pain of the previous week, but I wasn’t about to get up and run a marathon. Or hug anyone. I think a hug might have killed me.

One of the needles I’d been stuck with was feeding me blood, which wasn’t quite the same thing as feeding me blood, but it seemed to be helping. The aches and pains aside, my skin had some color back—as much as I was ever going to have anyway—and I couldn’t see the outlines of my bones anymore.

But, still, I was in a hospital, and there was no way that was a good thing. I’d never been to a hospital as a patient before because the risk of my blood showing up as abnormal was too high.

The blue curtain surrounding my bed rattled on its metal hoops and was pushed partially aside. At the sight of a nurse I recoiled, growling, “Get away from me.”

She stopped, color draining from her face until she was almost as pale as I was. “You’re awake.”

“Sorry to put a damper on whatever psycho tests you wanted to run.” I started to tug out my tubes, apparently finding the one attached to my heart rate monitor first. One of the machines screamed at me, and before I had a chance to get anything else pulled free, three more nurses and a doctor were around me, the curtain pushed all the way back.

I stopped what I was doing and stared past them. Open hallways, other beds with patients in them, but no sign of locked doors or cells. The doctor who leaned over me was a doctor. He wore a white lab coat and had a stethoscope around his neck. In the pocket of his coat were several pens, ones he didn’t seem concerned about having in grabbing distance.

“Where am I?” I tried to swat away their meddling hands, but I was overwhelmed. I only had one functional hand, and between the lot of them they had ten. Unfair advantage.

“Ms. McQueen, my name is Dr. Bernal. You’re at a military compound about an hour south of Sacramento. Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”

“Guns.”

“Can you be more specific?”

One of the nurses reattached the heart rate monitor, and the screaming machine got a hold of itself.

“I was trying to rip someone’s heart out, and the guy with the gun stopped me. I think they were FBI? My collar—” My good hand flew up to my neck, groping for the black plastic time bomb I’d been wearing. All I felt was skin, smooth and unadorned.

I might never wear a necklace again.

“We were able to remove the device without much difficulty. It was about a ten-thousand volt charge rigged to zap you.”

“Fuck, shit, bitch, cunt, asshole, fucker.” Once I was done, I laughed. I laughed loudly and for far longer than any sane woman should have, especially since I hadn’t said anything funny, and neither had he. “Did I kill him?” I asked, once I stopped cackling.

“No. If anything the shock to his heart restored it after you’d squeezed it.” He checked my lines, flicking a bag of fluid to ensure it was still dripping. “I’m sorry.”

I was sorry. Why should he be sorry I hadn’t murdered someone?

“Do you know what he did to me?”

The doctor stopped toying with my equipment and turned to the nurses. “You can go. I’ve got this under control. Tell the agents she’s awake, please.”

Before speaking again, he pulled my blanket up higher and placed a hand on my knee. I jerked away. I wasn’t trying to be rude, and it wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate the kindness of his gesture, but I suspected it was going to be a very long time before I felt okay letting a stranger put their hands on me.

The sympathy and pity in his expression told me everything. “It’s going to take us quite awhile before we’re able to go through Dr. Kesteral’s files. Possibly years, and that’s if the FBI is willing to put even half the time and effort into it as they should. But to answer your question, yes, I do know what he did to you. Your file was new, but it was…extensive.” Dr. Bernal tried to smile—I think he wanted me to feel better—but his lips only managed a grimace. “I’m very sorry, Ms. McQueen.”

“So you’ve read his notes.”

“Yes.”

“And you know what I am?”

He looked confused. “Of course.”

“But you’re not…surprised.”

This time he did smile. “Ah. You think because I’m human I should be running from the room in a panic, waving my arms and screaming to the masses about monsters. Is that it?”

The way he phrased it made me feel guilty for thinking it, but… “Yes.”

“Your kind isn’t nearly as clever as you’ve led yourselves to believe. You think after thousands of years coexisting with vampires we haven’t figured it out?” He lifted his hand as if he was going to touch me again, then thought better of it, putting both hands in his pockets. “There will be plenty of time to discuss it, and perhaps the agents might be better able to answer some questions, but I don’t want you talking to them for long. You need rest.”

He started pulling the curtain closed, but a question came to me that couldn’t wait. “Dr. Bernal?”

“Yes?”

“Were there other survivors?”

He stopped tugging on the curtain. “At the time of the infiltration there were twenty-two other captives on- site. We were able to retrieve eighteen. Six wolves, ten vampires and two CUOs.”

“CUOs?”

“Creatures of unknown origin.”

The curtain was almost closed when I asked, “One of the vampires…was his name Holden?”

“Your friend is fine. He’s being a rather distracting pain in the ass and has been asking for you since we brought him in, but aside from some weakness and other symptoms associated with vampire starvation, he’s doing well.”

“Maxime?” My voice was small.

The doctor became quiet. “No. I’m sorry. Now please, try and get some rest.”

He left before I could ask about my father.

I lay still, staring up at the stained ceiling tiles and counting the beats of my own heart as they echoed on the ECG. They were slow, but that was normal for me.

After I’d counted to a hundred, the curtain rattled again. A man in a nondescript black suit came in. He was a little taller than me, and Latino, his black hair short on the sides in a severe buzz cut. He couldn’t have screamed government employee any louder unless he had mirrored aviators on and drove a black SUV.

“Good evening, Ms. McQueen. My name is Special Agent LaRoy. Sorry to bother you while you’re recovering, but my partner and I were hoping to ask you a few questions if we could.”

“Is your first name Special Agent?” I asked.

“No, ma’am.”

“Tell me your first name, and I’ll answer your questions. You’ll have to forgive me for not wanting to talk to anyone who uses a title instead of a name, considering The Doctor and all.”

“Of course.” He smiled, and it was a nice smile, one that warmed his face and made his eyes twinkle. As far as G-men went, this guy seemed okay. “My first name is Emilio.”

“Hi, Emilio. My name is Secret.”

“A pleasure, ma’am.” The curtain rattled and was pushed back. “I believe you know my partner? Special Agent Tyler Nowakowski.”

Chapter Thirty-Four