He stares but doesn’t speak.
“Michael…” I growl.
“Librarian…” he growls back, glaring up at me from his chair.
“Dammit.” I start pacing across the small room. “You said I’m the love of your existence. And now you can’t even say my name? Or are you just like all the other lying, dirty, lowlife bloodsuckers out there?”
“I am not dirty. I am very clean, and unlike you, I smell nice.”
“Funny. Now say my name.” I hold the crossbow firmly in my hand and stand directly in front of him. “And then tell me, the woman you supposedly loved once, why you care more about catching Nice than you do someone trying to kill me. Are you that cold? You’d let our daughter grow up motherless and fatherless?”
“I-I cannot tell you, Mir—librarian.”
“Ugh. That’s enough of this game.” I set the crossbow on the small brown table by the window and dig out the Hershey’s bottle from my bag of goodies. I dig out a clean needle.
“No! Do not do that. I need to capture Nice before he catches wind we’re looking for him. He still has many allies.”
I fill the syringe and then point it at him. “Tell me what you want him for.”
We stare each other down for several long moments. I can feel conflict inside him. My guess is he wants to tell me, but isn’t sure he can trust me.
“Just remember that I have never double-crossed you or stabbed you in the back, unlike other people in your life. But you forgave them over and over again when you shouldn’t have. So why do they deserve second and third and fourth chances, but not me?” He knows I’m talking about Lula and Alex. Even his old assistant, Viviana, from what I hear, betrayed him and acted as a spy for Clive during the Uprising. Michael should have had her executed for that, but he put her in prison instead. “Everyone is shown mercy and forgiveness except me.”
“Very well,” he grunts. “You made your case. I will grant you this one chance, but understand, librarian, if I tell you, it means you cannot kill Nice. Do I have your agreement?”
Hell no. There is nothing on this Earth that could be important enough to spare his life. “I will consider delaying my plan to murder him in a very painful way, but that’s it.”
“Fair enough.” Michael clears his throat, and I instantly know I’m in for a very long explanation, so I retake my seat at the edge of the bed in front of him. “Well, you know I was a bioengineer for a while, yes?” he asks.
“Yeah.” He mentioned it once.
Michael goes on to explain that he spent many nights studying his and other vampires’ blood. It led him to a theory he was only able to partially test. “As you’re aware, if a vampire ingests the blood of a more powerful vampire, the weaker vampire gains strength.”
“Yes.”
“I believe it is because of the virus that transforms us. The longer it has lived in our bodies, the stronger it becomes. When that older, more potent strain is ingested, it wipes out the weaker one, leaving the vampire with enhanced abilities.”
“Very interesting. So it’s kind of like survival of the fittest, but the viral version.”
“Exactly.” Michael nods. “And you’re also aware that our kind does not get ill. I believe the reason is because the virus responsible for changing us has its own immune system, specifically white blood cells called interferons that attack foreign bodies in the blood. It seeks to protect the vampire’s human cells.”
Michael then goes on to explain that if you were to take the blood of a weak vampire, it degrades almost instantly once outside the body. “But take the blood of a strong, older vampire, that blood will remain stable for several minutes. If I am able to separate out just the white blood cells and then introduce them into a weaker vampire’s system, those white blood cells will attack the virus of the weaker vampire. Just as they do when a weaker vampire ingests the blood of a stronger one. Only, in this case, the stronger form of the virus is left out.”
“So you’re talking about—”
“The cure, Miriam. The goddamned cure for vampirism.”
Wow. What? I have to let that sink in. It’s genius, really. I mean, I don’t know if it would work because I’ve never studied our blood, but Michael has. “So you’re saying you want to make a serum using an older vampire’s immune defenses.”
“Well, it’s the virus’s immune defenses, but yes. The trick is, I need the blood of a vampire who is strong enough and old enough so that the blood will survive those few precious moments needed to separate out a few white blood cells.”
This sounds like quite the theory. I wonder if he’s tested it out. “Did you try doing any experiments with your blood on someone younger?”
“My blood didn’t last long enough—a problem I think I can overcome, but I would still need Nice anyway. He is the oldest vampire we have, and if I’m right, it means I have a cure. For everyone who wants it.”
“Oh my god. This is incredible.” It hits me that I could be human again.
“Of course, we would need to test the serum and ensure it works, but with a vampire like Nice, we could make an endless supply of an antidote.”
My mind starts shooting in a hundred different directions. Something like this could be used to right so many wrongs. I bet tons of vampires never wanted to become what they are.
“Would you take the serum?” I assume that’s why he wants it.
Michael looks down at his shiny black shoes. “Too many vampires would wish to remain as they are, and those vampires
