Chapter 6
P
etrov came toward me and dropped to his haunches. Taking hold of my chin in his fingers, he turned my head one way and then the other, his fingers brushing down either side of my neck. I knew what he was looking forâbite marks, and forty-eight hours ago he would have found some. But I'd long since healed. I doubt even a shadow of a bruise existed, especially not with the care Gabriel took when feeding from me.
A dozen questions bounced around inside my head, looking for a way out. If he was searching for evidence of bite marks, then he must also know that Anasztaizia fed Aleksei, and that Aleksei was a vampire like him. Should I tell him I was a Promise, and hope he knew what that was? Anasztaizia had surprised me by revealing not every vampire did, just as some vampires couldn't name a single Original Vampire. She had even heard rumors that the existence of the Originals was being questioned.
But if he knows Anasztaizia feeds a vampire, what does he want with her? To feed him?
I thought that was highly unlikely.
Opening his jacket, Petrov took something out from his inside pocket. It was a slim black case that looked a little like a jewelry box, the kind that usually contains something bright and sparkly and very expensive. This one held two syringes.
“No thanks, I'll pass,” I said, watching as he removed one from the molded insert. “Your boy there already inoculated me.”
“Mmmm, I know,” Petrov said, “but that was something different, and as you weren't the intended recipient, it was completely wasted.”
“Why? What did you expect it to do to Anasztaizia?”
He pulled his brows together and gave me a puzzled look. “Who? Oh, so that's her name. I didn't know.”
Really? What kind of shithead arranges an abduction but doesn't know who he's kidnapping? And what the hell could Anasztaizia possibly be involved inâa conspiracy to corner the world market in paprika?
Ignoring my question, Petrov removed the needle cap and tapped the cylindrical tube with a nail. Holding it upright, he depressed the plunger slightly. A small fountain of liquid sprayed in the air. Narcotic rain. He turned his head. “Gus, come unlock the young lady's handcuffs, if you please.”
The big man hesitated. “Do you think that's a good idea, Mr. Petrov?”
“I only need one arm free, Gus. That shouldn't be a problem.”
Although unhappy with the request, Gus was smart enough to keep his mouth shut and did as the vampire asked. I wondered what was making him nervous. How much of a threat could I be with one arm free and one still handcuffed? I gritted my teeth as my left arm fell to my side like a lead weight. Stinging pins-and-needles pain shot from my fingers to my shoulder as blood began to flow.
Petrov turned my arm over and pulled what looked like a length of thin rubber tubing from his pocket. Using it as a tourniquet, he deftly knotted it around my upper arm before stretching it out and tapping the inside of my elbow with two fingers. I have good veins, or so the people at the Red Cross have told me whenever I've donated blood. Gabriel has also said the same thing. My abductor grunted in satisfaction as my vein popped up, begging to be poked with something sharp.
“Will you at least tell me what it is you're giving me?” I said, trying not to sound panicked.
This close up, I could sense there was something
off
about him. Not
off
because he was a vampire; it was something else entirely. Something I couldn't put my finger on but knew intuitively was horribly bad. Homicidal maniac-slash-serial killer bad. The best way I could describe it was to say if I was walking down a dark alley late at night, and Petrov was coming the other way, I'd turn around and run like hell before he got the chance to pass me.
As he rubbed the ball of his thumb over my vein, I wondered how long it had been since he last fed. Had to have been recently because he was controlling himself well. “It's just something I've been playing with,” he said, answering my question about the contents of the syringe.
He obviously wasn't going to share the recipe for his creation with me. Either that or he figured I was too dumb to understand the chemistry. He might have been right, but even I knew lysergic acid diethylamide was LSD. Ah shit! Was that what he was doing? Making me OD on an acid trip? Fuck! I hoped to God he was giving me the good stuff.
But you can't die . . . can you?
Oh shit! Yeah, that's right . . . well, I don't think so.
Being told you have an extended life span is one thing, but
knowing
you have an extended life span is something else. Because how could you really be sure, unless it was put to the ultimate test?
I had made a bargain with a demon, a master of deceit, trickery, and lies. I had no way to know if he would honor the terms of our agreement, but I had no reason to think he wouldn't either. If he could be convinced the love Gabriel and I shared was true, then my vampire lover would be released from the rule of the Dark Realm, and I would keep my soul. So I had bargained, and my life span had been extended as part of the deal, or so I'd been told. What I hadn't anticipated was my demonic pact being sealed with a kiss. A kiss that allowed a piece of my soul to be stolen.
You didn't ask?
Sorry, I was kind of distracted at the time.
Yeah, I guess having a demon's tongue halfway down your throat could be considered a distraction.
You really need to go there?
My demon had told me that my life would be extended to match Gabriel's, and he'd also said I would not fall prey to disease or infirmity or perish at another's hand. I wasn't completely sure whether the definitions of disease and infirmity were the same in the Dark Realm as in my world, but I was pretty confident that
perish at another's hand
was self-explanatory. If that was true, then whatever was in Petrov's syringe couldn't kill me.
Yeah, but we're talking about a demon . . .
A trickster, a deceiver, a liar.
Believing the potion might not kill me didn't mean it couldn't fuck me up so badly I might wish I was dead. What if it totally screwed with my brain and I didn't even know I was still alive? The devil, as they say, is in the details.
Or maybe the demon is in the lack of them?
Just couldn't resist that one, could you?
How are you feeling?
Are you kidding me?
No, I'm being serious. You've already been given something, right? So . . . how do you feel?
Pretty damn good actually, apart from still wanting to drain Lake Michigan. I still ached and was sore in places, but that was more from the physical toll of the car crash. My head wasn't anywhere near as messed up as I might have expected, especially after being injected with an unknown substance.
Think you can get him to tell you what it was you were given?
Maybe . . . “Is this more of the same shit Dickless Wonder gave me earlier?”
Petrov shook his head. “No, I already told you that was different and completely ineffectual.”
“How do you know?” I challenged. “How do you know it's not working on me right now?”
He snickered as he considered my question. “The formula was designed to interact and react with a certain type of blood chemistry. Chemistry you don't have,” he added smugly.
“How do you know that? Did you do a test while I was unconscious?” The idea that he might have was more than a little scary.
Petrov shook his head. “No testing needed. I just
know
.”
Oh, but you don't, you asshole!
He'd just confirmed he didn't know I was a Promise, and I was glad I hadn't told him. “Well, why don't you tell me what it was supposed to do,” I said. “I mean what can it hurt if it's not working on me?”
I could almost see the cogs whirling in his head as he weighed the pros and cons of full disclosure before he sighed and decided what the heck. “Not every drug produces a physical response or is designed to get you high in the way you're thinking.” He sounded like some college professor giving a lecture. “This particular formulary is designed to be an inhibitor, to prevent a specific reaction from occurring.”
I shook my head and frowned. What reaction? “I don't understand,” I told him.
“Of course you don't.” He was so condescending it took me by surprise when he continued. Maybe he liked having a truly captive audience. “How much do you know about, what was her name, Anasztaizia?” I nodded. “Mmmm, yes, well, what do you know about her boyfriend?”
“Only that she has one,” I answered cautiously. “She doesn't talk much about him.”
“I would imagine not,” he murmured, more to himself than to me. “Well, if she did talk about him to you, she might tell you they share a unique connection.”
“What kind of connection?”
“You wouldn't understand even if I were to tell you. Suffice it to say, the drug's objective is to block this connection.”
My heart skipped a beat as the impact of his words washed over me. He knew Aleksei was a vampire. He might just as well have shouted it from the rooftops. Aleksei and Anasztaizia had been together long enough that tuning in to her emotional state was second nature to the Russian vampire. If she was hurt or frightened or on any kind of emotional roller-coaster rideâkidnapped by a couple of psychos, for exampleâAleksei would be able to sense it. And he could use their
unique connection
to find her.
But supposing the link between them could be disrupted in some way? It would leave Aleksei stumbling around in the dark, while giving Gus and Rat Boy the time to finish whatever it was Petrov wanted them to do to Anasztaizia. And it didn't take a genius to figure out what that might be. Or what kind of effect it would have on Aleksei when he did find her.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
This was all about Aleksei.
Unfortunately, I had to assume the inhibitor intended for Anasztaizia could very well be working on me. My stomach suddenly churned at the thought, and the sting of bile coated the back of my throat. But I refused to give in to the feeling of defeat that threatened to wrap itself around me. There was no way to know if Petrov's chemical compound was effective, but the vampire didn't know about the ace up my sleeve.
I was a Promise, bound to an Original Vampire, and willing to bet the connection existing between Gabriel and myself was far stronger than the one Aleksei and Anasztaizia shared. It was certainly older, and that had to count for something. Would Petrov have taken such a factor into account while swishing his magic potion in his lab beaker? There was no way to know for sure, but I doubted it. If he hadn't been able to recognize I was a Promise, then I felt confident his formula was effective only on bonds that were less than a hundred years old.
All you have to do is wait until your honey wakes up . . . he'll find you. Mark my words, he will find you.
Providing of course that physical distance wasn't a problem, because I had no idea where I was. Professor Aleksei's Vampire 101 class hadn't covered limitations that might compromise the strength of the bond between vampire and human. That was an unknown I could do nothing about. It seemed that Petrov wasn't going to tell me anything more about the first drug. Why would he when he assumed it was a dud? But if he intended to inject me with anything else, then I needed to find out what it was. Knowledge is a powerful tool, and any information I could give Gabriel would help him find the right way to flush this crap from my body.
“So is this going to make me think Rat Boy is irresistible?” I asked Petrov.
“Rat . . . who?” The vampire raised a brow as I jerked my head toward the space over his shoulder. “Oh, I see.” He smirked. “No, I'm not sure there's anything that can do that.”
He held my elbow, and I made myself relax my arm. It would be easier if he thought I'd already accepted the inevitable. Just as he was about to slide the point of the needle into my skin, I jerked my arm back. A drop of blood, brilliant as a ruby, glistened in the crook of my arm.
Petrov sucked in a breath between clenched teeth, making a hissing sound. His nostrils flared, and his eyes looked strangely glazed. “Bitch!” he snarled, waving the still full syringe in the air. “You've been keeping secrets!”
“Not really, you just made the wrong assumptions about me.” His reaction told me he knew I was
something
, but he wasn't sure exactly what that might be. “It didn't cross your mind that if Anasztaizia had a vampire for a boyfriend, I might have one as well?”
From the look on his face it was apparent this had never occurred to him. What an idiot! For a few moments he seemed lost in thought, probably wondering how he was going to get his sorry ass out of this mess. And then I watched as hubris got the better of him.
“Perhaps I should thank you,” he said.
“What for?” I asked uneasily.
“The opportunity to prove my inhibitor formula works.”
I snorted. “What makes you think it's working?”
A frown creased his brow. “You're right. I don't, not really. I don't even know if you feed a vampire, but let's assume for the sake of argument you do. And let's also assume a similar bond exists between you and said vampire.” He leaned forward and gave me a sick smile.
“That's an awful lot of assumptions you're making.”
“Ah, but I don't think they're assumptions at all.” He looked at the blood stain on my arm. “I think you do feed a vampire, only you haven't been doing it for long, which means the bond between you hasn't had time to mature and strengthen. I want to know whether my serum will work, so we're going to amplify your emotions, just to make certain your vampire lover is given every opportunity to come to your rescue.” He placed the still-full syringe on the ground before getting to his feet. “I need one of you to hold her and the other to stretch out her arm, palm flat on the ground,” he said, pointing to both Gus and Rat Boy.