Cursed

Zack nods.

“What happened to her?”

“Isabella Mancini killed her. When she woke, she was half mad from starvation and torture,” I explain. “There were two others we were able to save, an Amy Patterson and some kid named Owen Cooper.” His expression changes ever so slightly when I mention the last name. Is it relief? I can’t tell. “No missing person’s report on Cooper as far as I know. That name wasn’t familiar.”

“That’s because he doesn’t quite live in the mainstream. Amy Patterson. Isn’t she the artist who’s been missing?” he asks.

I nod.

Kallistos points to the door Zack is standing in front of. Zack has his arms crossed over his chest, his expression stern.

“Who’s in there? I detected four heartbeats in the building—three on this floor, one on the main floor. From the way you’re guarding the door, I’m going to guess human.”

Zack looks surprised that Kallistos was able to detect the number of heartbeats before even entering the room. I have heard that only the oldest and most powerful of vampires acquire the skill, but in my immortal life span, I’ve never met one. No wonder Zack hasn’t, either.

Before today.

I wonder what other tricks Kallistos has up his sleeve.

“He had nothing to do with this,” I say. “Like the others, he was kidnapped and brought here against his will. He’s sick, dying, and he’s come to peace with that. His lover hadn’t. We need to get him to a hospital.”

Kallistos’ eyes narrow. “But what is he doing here, in this lab? Why were any of them here?”

I realize he doesn’t know about Pierce’s organ factory. I tell him, quickly, succinctly. How she was blackmailed and forced to harvest organs from humans for a black market transplant operation. How she came up with the idea of using vampires since, to her way of thinking, they were already dead. I relayed her discoveries. Vampires are universal donors, possessing organs that won’t be rejected. They’re capable of donating repeatedly, potentially endlessly. And then, finally, I told him about the silver, how she used it to subdue, restrain, and anesthetize her captives during surgery. How prolonged exposure to the silver appeared to be what caused the severe desiccation, the madness, the need for absolute death.

I expect an explosion of revulsion and rage. Instead his eyes are clouded with sadness. “This is why we hide ourselves, our powers, our gift,” he says. “Perhaps someday when humans learn humanity, things will be different.”

Kallistos removes his jacket, then begins to roll up his sleeves. “We can avoid the hospital for this human. Out of my way.”

I cross to stand beside Zack.

“He’s not going to be turned,” Zack tells him.

Kallistos isn’t used to being told anything. That much is obvious. He doesn’t react with anger, though. Instead his gaze turns to me.

“I can help him. Surely, a soul as old as you, a creature with your amount of . . . experience . . . knows this.”

I do know. That’s what makes this entire debacle even more tragic. I nod.

Kallistos turns to Zack. “Move aside, dog.”

“Make me.”

Kallistos grins and takes one step closer. I reach out, planting a hand firmly in the middle of his chest. “This is unnecessary. Explain to him.”

Several seconds pass. I hold my breath.

“I have no intention of turning him,” the vampire assures Zack.

Only he doesn’t buy it. He continues to stand his ground.

I reach for Zack’s arm. “Trust him. The blood of an old one has the power to heal. A few sips of Kallistos’ blood and Michael will be cured.”

“I’ve never heard—”

“Trust me.”

His lips press into a thin line. “You’re certain?” His hand is now poised on the doorknob. He looks at me expectantly. I know what’s he’s asking. His intent telegraphs itself as clearly as if he’d spoken it aloud. He wants to know if I can read Kallistos, if it’s safe.

“Yes,” I say. “I’m sure. Absolutely sure.”

The door opens. Kallistos pushes past. I turn to follow, sense Zack at my back. I turn, shake my head. “No, you have to stay here.”

Confusion clouds his face.

“Please,” I add. “I don’t want you caught in the wake of my powers. I need to read him alone. You need to trust me. I can’t deal with both of you at the same time.”

He looks ready to argue, but he holds his tongue.

“I’m sorry.”

Zack takes my hand in his. I feel something cool and round press into it. His expression gives away nothing.

“Be careful.”

I give him a reassuring smile as I discreetly slide my hand into my pocket. “Always.”

Zack closes the door once I pass through and I lock it between us, leaning my head against it for an instant before a voice at my ear whispers in silky smoothness, “If you wanted to be alone with me, all you had to do is ask.”

Kallistos.

He’s behind me. Right behind me. So close, I feel the pulse of his breath against my neck.

The man has no respect for personal space. My spine stiffens. I turn to face him, push him away. The door is now at my back.

He steps close again, leans over me, one arm poised over my head. “That door won’t hold him. He can hear us, you know. Are you trying to purposefully drive your wolf wild?”

“What I’m trying to do is find out how honest you are. How noble your intentions.” I keep my voice steady, the tone professional.

Kallistos lowers his hand, draws a finger along the contours of my face, my lips, as if he’s going to touch them. But he doesn’t. “My intentions are quite dishonorable, I can assure you.”

He’s not talking about Dexter and we both know it.

“What I wouldn’t give to possess this mouth,” he whispers, finger still poised over my lips. “Along with the rest of you.”

I push the finger away. “You presume far too much, Mr. Kouros. You have nothing I want.”

“Oh no? I can give you what you crave, what you need. Anything you desire, save my heart. I made that mistake once. I can guarantee you, I will never make it again. We could have decades, centuries of pure, uncomplicated pleasure. No. Strings. Attached.”

“I’ve been alive long enough to know there are always strings.” I duck under his arm, moving away.

Kallistos smiles. “I make you nervous.”

“Actually, you’re making me impatient. We’re wasting time.” I gesture to Dexter, still and pale on the bed. “If you aren’t going to help him, we need to get him to a hospital.”

He spreads his arms wide. “Let’s get on with it, then. You’re here to ensure that I’m not going to harm the human. Use your power to test me. You’ll find you can trust me. You’ll taste the truth in my statement.”

We move to stand on opposite sides of the room, the bed containing an unconscious Michael Dexter between us. Suddenly my conviction wavers. I have never tested the powers of one so powerful. Am I about to test Kallistos, or is he about to test me? Is he counting on me to walk away rather than to risk our mutual exposure, or is he goading me into giving him what he wants, a glimpse of the real me? He knew a Siren once, my sister. He knows the danger, yet he invites me in. Why?

Kallistos’ gaze is haughty, as if he knows the battle I’m fighting, as if he expects me to back down. I draw