The Vault (A Farm Novel) (23 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CARTER

My hands were shaking so badly I could barely load up the syringe. Dawn’s hurried instructions were running through my brain. I had to tap out the air bubbles, because if I shot air into her veins, it would kill her. Of course, if I didn’t wait long enough for the tranquilizer to wear off, it would kill her as well. If I’d grabbed the wrong serum, that might kill her. There were a lot of
ifs
here that all ended up with Lily dead.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Ely asked, watching me warily.

“Do I look like I do?”

“No.” Ely’s voice was a mixture of deranged laughter and total disbelief.

He and I were in the corridor outside Lily’s cell. She’d calmed down. A little. I could hear her pacing, punctuated by the occasional sound of her throwing her body against one of the walls. She seemed to be tiring. Seemed to be less frenetic. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“Okay,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “You shut the door behind me. I don’t want her escaping, because I’ve only got one shot at this.”

“Trust me,
miho
, I got plenty of reasons to get that door shut once you go in.”

“But be ready to open it again so I can get out after I’ve given her the shot. I was given the vaccine at El Corazon, so I shouldn’t be in any danger.”

“Unless she rips your heart out.”

“Exactly.”

Ely shook his head, like he thought I was crazy. He was probably right. But what was I supposed to do? If there was any chance that this cure would work, I had to try.

I held the syringe pointed up, gave it one more tap with my finger, and nodded at him. “Let’s do this.”

Lily spun on me the second I stepped into the cell. She moved incredibly fast, throwing herself through the air toward me. I ducked and rolled under her, cringing when she hit the wall behind me. She whirled back around before I could get my feet under me. She pounced on me, slamming me into the ground. The impact knocked the syringe from my hand and it skittered across the floor. She pounced on my chest. God, she was strong.

As a human, Lily had been lean and tenacious as hell, but now she was all muscle. She was speed and hate bundled together in one unstoppable package. I tried to knock her off me, but she swatted my hands aside. I flung out a hand, reaching for the syringe.

“Lily, it’s me!” I gasped. “It’s Carter! Don’t!”

I felt my fingertips skim the side of the syringe. I stretched, reaching. Desperate. And felt it spin out of my grasp.

For an instant, she sat poised above me, her teeth bared in animalistic rage, a thread of drool spilling from her lips. Her inhuman eyes met mine. I searched for any sign of recognition. Of humanity. I saw none. As she raised her hands above her, she tipped her head back and howled.

I knew what was coming. She’d slam her fisted hands down onto my chest. My rib cage would crack open. She’d peel back my ribs like she was shelling a nut. Then she’d rip my still-beating heart from my chest and devour it.

This was it. I was going to die. I’d failed at everything. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save myself.

Then, just as she was starting to bring down her hands, Ely stepped up behind her and slammed the chair into her temple.

Her hands still hit my chest. Hard. But not hard enough to crack anything. She whirled around, confused, then wavered. And fell to the side.

Ely stood there, over her, chair still in his hands, chest heaving as he waited to see if she stirred. Then he looked at me and blew out a shaky breath.

“I know you said she couldn’t be tranqed when we dosed her, but”—he set down the chair and sank onto it—“shit, she was going to kill you. And you didn’t say we couldn’t knock her out.”

I pushed myself to my feet, pulling in one breath after another as adrenaline coursed through my veins. I rubbed my chest where she’d hit me. My ribs were still sore from the fight with Marek and pain sliced through my chest. She might have broken something after all, but my heart was still in my chest and that’s what mattered. Anything else I could handle with Ace bandages.

I nodded, scanning the ground for the syringe. “Good call.”

I found it, against the wall. It hadn’t broken. Thank God. My hands were trembling as I picked it up. I tapped it for bubbles again, mostly to give myself something to do while my hands were still shaking so badly.

“Let’s get this over with.” I crouched down next her, rolling her over onto her back so her arms splayed out to the side. I ran my thumb over the skin of her inner elbow. My hands hadn’t steadied yet and I couldn’t even see a vein. Shit. I looked up at Ely. “You know how to do this?”

“What, you think just because I’m Mexican I know how to shoot someone up?” Then he laughed. “Nah, I’m just messing with you.” He took the needle from me. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ve watched
Trainspotting
like a dozen times.”

Between the two of us, we got it done. We hoped. Knowledge of heroin use was not something I’d thought I’d need to survive the apocalypse. Then again, I never would have imagined my girlfriend trying to eat my heart out of my chest. Go figure.

A moment later, Ely and I stood outside the cell, watching Lily where she lay on the ground, her chest slowly rising and falling.

“What now?” Ely asked.

“Now we wait.”

“How long?”

“I have no idea.”

I didn’t say it aloud, but I had already started praying.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

MEL

I pause, hand raised to point out where I think the garage is, and for a second it’s all I can do to even breathe, I’m so surprised by Sebastian’s question.

I turn slowly to look at him. “Why would you ever ask if I’m in love with Carter?”

“Curiosity. Boredom.” He lifts a hand and points to the TV. “Nothing good on TV anymore.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to answer.” I’m not going to spill my guts just to satisfy his curiosity.

“I answered your question.”

“Which question?”

“The one about Genexome doing cancer research.”

“‘Potayto, potahto’ is not an answer.”

“I’ll give you a real answer if you’ll give me one.”

“Tit for tat?” I ask. “Okay, Hannibal. Answer my question first.”

“Yes, Genexome did cancer research. And Alzheimer’s research. And worked on a host of other medical problems. Vampires don’t age and don’t get diseases. Using vampire DNA to cure human ailments seemed like a natural solution.”

And just like that, my mind is racing from one medical problem to the next. Yes, cancer and Alzheimer’s, but there were plenty of other degenerative diseases as well. Multiple sclerosis. Lou Gehrig’s disease. There were so many things that our DNA might be able to affect. “That is incredibly forward thinking of you.”

“Don’t romanticize me. Biomedical companies have reasons to order bags of human blood by the truckload.”

“Really?” I shoot him a dark look. I’d wondered what exactly he’d done for food in the Before. “And none of the humans thought that was strange?”

“I paid them to overlook it. The medical research industry is extremely lucrative.”

But there is something in his voice that tells me he wasn’t only in it for the money. Or maybe that is just me romanticizing him again.

“So if it started as pure research, how did it go so wrong?”

He wags his finger at me. “Oh, no, you don’t. You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“I was kissing
you
. Not fifteen minutes ago. Why would I do that, if I was in love with Carter?”

He smiles and there’s a hint of cruelty to it. “I was kissing you fifteen minutes ago. And I was strangling you fourteen minutes ago. We both know kissing has little to do with love. Right, Kit?”

Bile rises in my throat. Of course.

Of course, this isn’t really about curiosity or boredom. This is him putting me in my place again. Him reminding me that whatever else that kiss was about, it wasn’t about romance.

I lash out. “You must think I really need these lessons in romance. Because I’m ‘so young
.
’” I throw his phrasing back at him. “But trust me. I don’t.”

I want to say something more. Something more painful. Something brutal. But if there’s one thing I have even less experience in than kissing, it’s delivering a hurtful setdown.

So instead of hurling the perfect insult at him, I retreat to Roberto’s bedroom and scrounge in the closet until I find a duffel bag. I use some of Roberto’s fine Egyptian cotton towels to line it and then bring it back to the kitchenette to look for ice.

“You never answered my question,” he says smoothly when I reappear.

“Carter is my sister’s boyfriend.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t love him.”

Of course I don’t love him. Carter is . . . just Carter. A friend. He’s always been that. And nothing more. And I could tell Sebastian the truth, but I’m tired of him pushing me away and putting me in my place. And I’m so damn mad at him.

Sebastian’s voice turns suddenly serious. “Listen to me, Kit. I know you think he loves her. I know he thinks it. But you’re a vampire and he’s an
abductura
. You are by nature a most perfect pair. Made for one another. It might be easiest if you just accept it.”

And now I’m more than mad.

“Fine,” I snarl. “Yes. I love him. Why wouldn’t I? He’s the perfect guy. He’s totally hot and he’s actually trying to save the world instead of destroy it. So why wouldn’t I stab my sister in the back to get him?” Sebastian’s mouth twists, but I can’t tell if it’s a smile or a grimace. Maybe I should take it easy on him. He’s in pain. On the other hand, I feel like he’s actually answering my questions. I may never have the chance to get this information from him again. So I ask another one. “What were you trying to do with the Tick virus?”

“I was trying to create a cure.”

“For what?”

“For everything. Cancer. Alzheimer’s. Even vampirism. I thought I could fix the flaws in our personalities.”

“The flaws?”

He meets my gaze now. Serious and steady. “Our natural territorialism. I thought I could tweak our DNA just enough that we’d be able to be with one another. It’s our one great flaw. Our solitude. It’s no fun to live forever if you’re always alone.”

I rock back on my heels as shock slams into me. I know instinctively that he isn’t talking about me here. All of this—all the research, all this yearning for another vampire—that happened long before he’d met me. Which means there’s someone else he loves. Which is so much more painful than him merely not loving me.

“You’re in love with Sabrina,” I say stupidly, because the answer comes to me so fast and so hard that I can’t not say it aloud. “You must have fallen in love with her when she was still human and your
abductura
. You turned her into a vampire, thinking you’d be able to control yourself.”

That’s what all those warnings to me had been about. He knew firsthand that there was no way to overcome his vampire berserker rage, because he’d tried to do it. He’d fought against his nature and failed. He knew it couldn’t be done.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he clucks. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

“That wasn’t a question,” I point out, stifling the pang I feel when I remember his words. An
abductura
and a vampire are nature’s most perfect pair. Was that what it had been like between them? Perfect?

“It’s still my turn. Why go to such desperate measures to find the cure for your sister? Why not just bite her and turn her into a vampire, too? That seems to be Carter’s solution to everything, surely he suggested it.”

“I never had a choice,” I say. “I wouldn’t force this on her. Not if there was any other way.” It’s a simple answer, but it’s the truth and I’m glad he accepts it for what it is.

When he nods, I think of my next question. There’s no point asking anything else about Sabrina. My gut tells me he won’t answer me anyway. Besides, I can extrapolate from here. There was tension between them, but not yearning. Whatever they had once, she’s over it and he’s too hurt to try again. I can’t say I blame him. After this, it’s not like I’ll be eager to take another stab at love.

I decide to go back to asking about the virus. “If you really have the cure at Genexome—”

“I said I did.”

“Then why not distribute it sooner? Why just sit on it?” Because this is the one thing I can’t reconcile. The one thing I can’t wrap my brain around. “You could have gone to the government right away. You could have stopped this before it got to this point. You could have saved hundreds of millions of lives.”

“Like your hero Carter?” he asks, with a little bit of a sneer.

“Yes!”

“Are you sure you’re being honest with yourself? About why you won’t turn Lily.”

“What?” I’m so startled by his words I hardly know how to respond.

“Oh, respecting her free will is all well and good. And that’s very noble. But surely you’ve thought of the natural consequences, haven’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You refuse to bite Lily, she eventually turns into a Tick. That’s awfully convenient for you, the girl who’s in love with her boyfriend.”

Suddenly I want to kill Sebastian all over again, and for reasons that have nothing to do with vampire berserker rage.

“That’s ridiculous. And insulting.” I push myself to my feet and whirl away. “I would never sell my sister out to get her guy. And he wouldn’t want me if I did.”

“Are you sure?” Sebastian pokes. “You are twins. He might not even notice the difference.”

“God, you are such an ass.”

“Just pointing out the obvious here. I mean, you don’t seem like you’re in a big rush to get to—”

“Shut up,” I snarl. “Or I really will chop you up and use your body parts like passkeys.” But even the threat isn’t enough to calm me down, so I ask the really big question. The one I’ve been working up to. The one I know will hurt him to answer. “Why did you hate Roberto so much?”

He looks bored. “You mean besides the fact that he was vile?”

“Obviously. Did he turn you? Is that why you hated him?”

“He did turn me. But that’s not why I hated him.”

“Then why? Why the multiple assassination attempts? Why the elaborate plans to bring him down?”

“Are those separate questions?”

“You used me to get you into El Corazon.” I hurl the words at him. The pain is fresher than I thought. “Without me, he wouldn’t be dead. I think this one should be a freebie.”

“Very well.” Sebastian’s expression is unreadable, but something tells me he is telling the truth now. He speaks slowly, revealing very little emotion. “He did turn me, but that’s not why I hated him. I told you a vampire’s nature never changes? Well, it was Roberto’s nature to be a willful, truculent child. He was greedy and self-indulgent and constantly in need of entertainment. He ate wherever he wanted with no thought to the consequences. To make matters worse, he was a Centurion in Augustus’s army.”

“The Roman emperor?” I ask, because my history knowledge is sketchy at best.

Sebastian nods, seeming almost distracted as he continues. “Roberto used to hunt on the battlefields of the empire. Picking off victims in battle. That’s where he turned me. But then he left before he even knew I had regenerated. I had no training. No knowledge of what I’d become. Unfortunately, when I awoke, I was not far from home. Everyone I’d fought with had either died or been captured as slaves. So I went home to my wife and children. The results of that visit were . . . not something you’d ever forget. Not in a thousand years.”

Suddenly I am sorry I asked. My imagination is too vivid. I remember myself in those early days. The confusion. The bone-deep hunger. The lack of control. If he’d returned home to his wife and children after being turned . . .

Bile crawls up my throat.

He would have unwittingly butchered them. Except they were
his
children, with his genes. Some of them would have regenerated. And at first, maybe he thought it was going to be okay . . . well, not okay. But maybe he thought he could live with those vampire children. That he could take care of them. That he would still have some kind of a family.

Except that wasn’t how it worked, was it?

At some point, the vampire rage—which Roberto had not told him about—would have kicked in. And it would have hit him before it hit any of his children. He would have killed them all. And he would never be able to forgive himself.

Sebastian’s face is pale, his gaze almost blank, like he’s cut himself off from the words he’d been saying. I know, instinctively, that he will say no more. I can’t blame him. I turn away then. If I had a history even remotely like the one I’d just imagined for him, I wouldn’t want to talk about it, either.

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