Is there a security system?
Yes.
Do you know the code?
No.
Are there guards?
Yes. One. Mostly just to sign visitors in and out. And to provide security after hours and during the weekends.
Anything else we should know?
Zack walks over to a refurbished cast-iron radiator next to the window and gives it a good yank.
Alan hesitates.
Zack turns his attention back on him. Well?
Theres a door, Alan continues. Its hidden behind a bookcase in Mothers office. Its the way into the laboratory.
Address?
Pierces lab is not far from Barakovs office. We should be able to get there in ten, fifteen minutes tops.
Zack reaches back, under his suit, with one hand for his handcuffs. With his other hand he grabs Alans wrist. Well come back for you. After cuffing him to the radiator, Zack turns to me. No way he can move that thing. Ill drive ahead and scope out the building. Call me when you get there.
Alan sinks to the floor. Michaels going to die. And Im going to jail, arent I?
Hes come clean. The least I can do is give him the truth. But what exactly is the truth? Nothing he said to us could be used in court. And even if it could, what kind of story are we talking about? A doctor using vampire organs in transplants? Who would believe it? Once the word got around the vampire community, though, Im afraid hed have more to fear from them than any human court.
I heave a sigh. I dont know, Alan. Depends entirely on your mother. If shes willing to take responsibility for the murder of Barakovs first wife and the homeless victims, you may get a break. But I think if I were you, Id worry more about retribution from the vampires. They dont play by the same rules we do.
CHAPTER 20
Since its early Saturday morning, it only takes me fifteen minutes to get across town. During the drive, my thoughts are as frenetic as they are fractured. This case has turned into a nightmare with ramifications that can literally shake the worlds of both humans and supernaturals. I was serious when I told Alan he may have more to fear from the vampires than any human court. And what about this Davis Mager? Will Barbara Pierce give him up? It may be her only way to win favor with the district attorney and, possibly, immunization for her son.
The address Alan gave us for his mothers office comes into view. Its a fairly new three-story luxury medical building built around a courtyard. I pull into the parking lot next to Zacks car and climb out.
Unlike in her husbands office, there is a large air-conditioning unit perched on the flat roof and signs announcing that Crown Security monitors the premises. The area around the building and adjacent parking lot is landscaped with cascading bougainvillea and large ferns, giving the appearance of a well-kept residential yard. Theres a sign on the front listing Dr. Barbara Pierces name among the other medical tenants and a telephone number to reach the security desk outside of regular business hours, including the weekend. The security gate, which leads to a courtyard, is closed and locked.
Still no Zack in sight. Before I have the chance to pull my cell from my pocket to call him, Zack appears and opens the gate from the inside.
Howd you get in?
A little trick I picked up from my previous job. He pulls the gate closed behind me.
Have any tricks up your sleeve to get us past that? I point up ahead to the buildings main entrance. A security camera hovers over the door, no doubt monitored by the guard inside.
Zack scoffs. Amateurs. The security is unbelievably sloppy. Ive already found an alternative route. Come this way.
The courtyard has a fountain in the middle. He leads me behind it and around to a side yard. Separating the side yard from the front is a six-foot stucco wall with a locked gate. Zack easily scales the wall and seconds later the gate swings open for me.
No camera, he says, pointing to the door up ahead. And just an old-fashioned dead bolt. The door is partially hidden by a screen of thick bushes. As we walk toward it, Zack pulls out a ballpoint pen and begins to unscrew the top. The casing is hollow and contains a variety of picks and tension tools.
I have a very bad feeling nothing we do today is going to be reportable to our superiors. This may be the first time Ive partnered with someone who has Zacks special skills, but there are three missing vampires, people as far as the world knows, and I shake off my reservations. Human or not, the victims get my sympathies.
Zack gets right to work. Never met a lock I couldnt pick.
Get a lot of practice, do you?
You should see my collection of chains and handcuffs.
Kinky.
Within seconds, theres a metallic click and hes cracked it.
We slip inside.
This side entrance takes us to the private elevator that goes directly to Dr. Pierces suite.
Now what? I whisper. This door requires a key card of some kind.
He pulls something from his wallet, swipes it, and voilàgreen light.
Do I even want to know where you got that thing?
Probably not, he mutters, pocketing the card, then drawing his weapon.
Zack takes point. Since hes the one with super-duper healing and Im practical, I let him.
The waiting and reception areas are empty. We quickly move into position by the entrance to the back office. Gun in hand, I pull the door open. Zack leads the way. We proceed cautiously down the hall of exam rooms. At the end, a door stands ajar. According to the placard, its what weve been looking for, the office of Dr. Barbara Pierce. And its empty. Once were inside, the real chore lies ahead of us. Finding the hidden entrance to the lab.
There are floor-to-ceiling bookcases on all four walls.
I should have asked Alan which bookcase, I whisper.
No need, Zack answers, in a hushed tone. He crosses to the first bookcase, leans close. He straightens and moves to the second. Then the third. He gives me a thumbs-up. This one. Before I can ask how he determined it, he adds, I hear the whine from a generator. Its strongest here. Labs need power. A secret lab with its own operating suite needs its own power source.
You are so clever.
Thank you, maam. Any idea where the catch or lock is that will open this puppy?
Ive already holstered my gun. With both hands free, I begin to explore the bookcase, passing my hand under and over each shelf. Nothing. I reach behind the case as far as I can. Still nothing. On either side. I turn and look at Pierces desk. I remember Alan had the release for the front door of his office somewhere under the top of his desk.
I take a seat in Pierces chair and let my hands explore. No catch. I open the file drawers to the left and right, shuffle papers around so I can see the entire insides of the drawers. My impatience is growing along with my fear that if this takes any longer, were going to lose Isabella.
I sit back in the chair, sighing with frustration. The top of Pierces desk holds a blotter, a potted plant, a metal divider tray, a pen set.
An elaborate pen set.
I look up at Zack. Couldnt be . . .
He shrugs. Only one way to find out.
He reaches over my shoulder and his fingers tighten around the first pen in the rack. It lifts free. Then he tries the second. This one doesnt. He tugs at it and it levers down.
At the same time, theres a gentle sliding sound. I spring from the chair to watch the bookcase swing forward on a well-oiled track.
Zack and I move through the door, Glocks in hand.
We find ourselves in what looks like a small laboratory. A long table holds an autoclave, a microscope, and a desktop computer, as well as racks of test tubes and blood samples. There are other machines I dont recognize on a second table. The shelves above them are filled with supplies, including towels, sheets, and a stack of fresh scrubs. To my right are two closed doors. Directly across from us is a window. Through it, we have a clear view of the operating suite. On the other side of the glass are six coffins on stainless steel biers. Zack and I exchange glances. Pierce keeps the vampires in coffins? A macabre joke? Each casket has a large tank at the end of it. A coil of plastic tubing connecting them. I surmise thats how the silver anesthesia Alan mentioned is administered. One coffin is open, but from this vantage point we cant see inside. A woman dressed in scrubs stands in front of it, blocking our view. Her back is to us, but I know its Pierce. I recognize the upswept blond hair from last night.
We move in tandem to the adjacent door. Zack stands to the right, I, to the left. With a sweeping motion, he cracks the door open. The sound of a Rogers and Hammerstein tune spills out. Pierce is cheerfully humming along. The door opens as soundlessly as the bookcase. Pierce doesnt hear us enter, doesnt even look up as we move behind her.
Shes standing over a coffin, a syringe in her hand. The lid and sides of the coffin appear to be lined with silver. Theres a blanket that looks to be of spun silver pushed to the end and partially draped over the side. The coil of plastic tubing hangs disconnected from its tank at the end. From over Pierces shoulder, I can see inside.
Isabella. Its horrifying to get my first glimpse of what has become of her. The wispy woman with the radiant smile Ive been searching for is stretched out, nude, her body withering away. Her long brown hair looks like straw. Her lips are drained of color and peeling, her skin pale and pruned. Across her abdomen is a series of ghastly-looking scars that have yet to completely heal. Shes moaning softly, her eyes closed.
Pierce reaches inside the coffin and lifts Isabellas arm. This will put you to sleep for the final time. In a moment, it will all be over.
Just as she touches the syringe to Isabellas arm, I step forward, chambering a round. Zack has moved to my left, his gun trained, too, on Pierce.
Drop the syringe, I order, struggling to keep the emotion out of my voice. Or dont. I would love an excuse to shoot you.
I expect her to whirl around, be startled, yell.
She does none of those things.
To my great disappointment, Pierce obeys. The hand with the syringe drops to her side. You dont understand, she says, still not moving, not turning around to see who has invaded her private lab. If you did
Oh, but I do understand. Better than you imagine. Weve just come from your sons office.
Alan? Is he all right? Shes staring into the coffin.
He told us everything. Now, I want you to step away from the coffin and turn around, slowly.
I need to give Isabella a shot, she says, remaining motionless. She is recovering from a powerful sedative. If she is allowed to become fully conscious
She doesnt get the chance to complete the sentence.
Isabellas hand flies up from the coffin and fastens on Pierces throat.
Isabella, no! I shout.
Zack moves to intervene.
Were both too late.
With one strong flick of her wrist, shes pulled Pierce into the coffin. The doctor flails, trying to break away, but the promise of sustenance seems to breathe life into Isabella. She sits up, pulling Pierce to her chest. She fastens her jaws on the doctors neck and begins to drink.
I hate what Pierce has turned Isabella into, but there are strict laws in the vampire community about when and how a vampire feeds. And killing a well-known doctor and draining her blood might put Isabella in just as much danger from her own kind as she was from Pierce.
Zack grabs hold of Isabellas hair in an effort to pull her free from Pierces body.
Isabella easily throws him off, jaws snapping at Zacks throat.
Find blood, he shouts. Theres got to be some around here.
Im already headed for the door across the way. When I push it open, theres only one bed inside. Its an operating suite, complete with monitors and an oxygen supply. The table is empty. My heart is pounding as I run for the second door. It also leads to a patient room. Again with one bed. This time occupied. Dexter is still and pale under the blanket tucked around him. Intravenous tubes in his arms connect to two overhead infusion bagsone containing blood, the other a clear liquid that I assume is keeping Dexter hydratedand sedated. In this room, there is a refrigerator. When I open it, I find the blood bags. I grab several and race back to Zack.
Hes moved in again. This time instead of trying to grab Isabella, he goes for the coffin. Its silver lining burns his hands. He pulls away with a hiss, shaking them both. Then his expression turns resolute and he grabs the side using only his left. I smell his flesh burn, watch as smoke curls up between his fingers.
Zack!
Sweat beads on his forehead. He grits his teeth and growls in rage, not backing down. Before I can reach him to help, the coffin tips. Zack is pinned beneath it along with Pierce and Isabella. I catch a glimpse of his blistered hand as I move to help lift the coffin. I neednt have bothered. Isabella, now stronger from the blood, arches her back and throws it off, then turns her rage on Zack.
With lightning-fast reflexes hes on his feet, poised and ready. Isabella rushes toward him, pushing him through the open door, out into the lab, and they fall to the floor.
I lower the shields and try to get into Isabellas mindto plant a calming seed. But shes too far gone to listen to rational thought. Half mad from silver poisoning, her mind is broken. Shes capable only of acting on instinct, acting to ease the pain of starvation and to fight for survival.
Shes forgotten Pierce now, turning her snapping jaws to Zack. Even with Zacks damaged hand, hes able to fend off her attacks, holding her at arms length. Under normal circumstances, a Were would be no match for a vampires strength. But Zack is powerful and Isabella is young, weak, and her need to feed is paramount.
I grab a scalpel from a nearby tray and slice open one of the bags ports. At the smell of blood, Isabella whirls toward me. I hold it out and she snatches it from my hands, latching on to it like a babe sucking at its mothers breast. By the time shes finished with the first, I have another open and ready for her. Get more, Zack, I yell.
When Isabella accepts the blood, theres the dawning of recognition and wonder in her eyes. I catch a glimpse of myself in the window and am reminded that the shields are still down. I glance around for Zack. His back is to me, heading into the laboratory. I realize this may be my only chance to get into her head.
Isabella, listen to me. Were here to help you, but you have to trust us. Were friends of Michaels.
Michael?
Hes never given up on you. I hand her the third blood bag. Cooperate with us.
Zack is coming back toward us, a handful of blood bags and a clean white sheet in his hands. I pull up the shields, wait for him to join us. Isabella is still looking at me, a puzzled frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. But she says nothing, accepting the sheet Zack holds out to her.
She wraps the sheet around her nude body.
Trust us, Zack says, offering her another blood bag. Well get you home. Safe and sound.
He goes to Pierce, lying still under Isabellas coffin, blood pooling beneath her head. He feels for a pulse, looks up at me, shakes his head.
I sigh and look around the room. The five remaining coffins are closed. While Zack stays with Isabella, I open them, one by one, throwing off the silver blankets that cover the vampires trapped inside and pulling needles from arms, stopping the flow of anesthesia rendering them immobile.
Only one opens his eyes immediately upon being freed.
Evan.
CHAPTER 21
Evan sits up in the coffin, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. He looks at me, narrows his eyes, and growls. Emma? What are you doing here? What am I doing here? He looks around. Where am I? He glances down. Shit. Why the fuck am I naked?
Questions fired machine-gun-style, not pausing for reply or comment. Eyes now burrowing into my skull.
Its a long story.
Emma. Zack has pulled another sheet off the shelf and he tosses it to me.
I hold it up and Evan climbs out of the coffin, still glaring at me. Once on his own two feet, he folds the sheet in two, then wraps it around his waist like a towel. He turns back to examine the tomb that held him prisoner, fingering the plastic coil and then yanking it from the canister. Where a drop of liquid touches his skin, a blister erupts. He peers at it. Silver.
He glares at me. What happened?
You were kidnapped.
Alarm darkens Evans face as if hes searching for the meaning of my words, searching for some memory of how he got here, searching for the clue that will snap the pieces of the puzzle together. He moves to peer into the coffins on either side of the one that held him. The vampires inside havent opened their eyes. Two men, their skin wrinkled and black, lie in a dark, viscous fluid that weeps from scars like Isabellas. It pools at the bottom of the coffin. The smell is acrid and tinged with decay.
When I join him, Evans head is bowed. Theyve been exposed too long. He says it softly and matter-of-factly. Look at their skin. The silver poisoning is bone deep. Even if we could revive them, they would remain mad. We cant bring them back.
Youve seen this kind of thing before? I ask. My memory slips back to a terrible period when the Inquisition ran rampant and torture became an art.
He nods. Wrapping a vampire in silver was a favorite torment during the Middle Ages.
Middle Ages? Zack has joined us, catching Evans last remark. How old are you?
Evan ignores the question, his eyes searching the room.
I can guess what hes looking for. What he intends to do. What he must do.
There is a small desk in the back of the room with a wooden folding chair beside it. He crosses the room with quick strides, sweeps up the chair, and smashes it against the floor. He lifts a leg of the chair, broken off at the base and splintered into a sharp point.
Then hes back at the coffins. With no hesitation, he drives the stake through the hearts of the two vampires. First one, then the other. There is a long sigh from each, like a release of both breath and life. A cloud rises as their bodies disintegrate and then they are gone. Only a fine red ash remains, coating the bottom of the caskets, coagulating in the fluid like a grisly scab.
Evan remains motionless for a moment, his eyes closed, his shoulders slumped.
Pierce may have thought vampires were inhuman, but this is a most human reaction. The reaction of having taken life . . . of coming face-to-face with the finality of real death.
Evan straightens and turns to look at me again. How long have I been gone?
About two days.
He grimaces. Liz must be frantic. I need to call her.
I hand him my cell and step away to allow him a moment of privacy. Zack has moved to the next coffin and freed Amy. I cant help smiling. Although shes weak, shes able to stand on her own. Shes safe. Our case solved.
Evan rejoins me, hands me back my cell with a smile of thanks. Ive got to get home. Preferably with my clothes. He glances around again. Then Im going to have a lot of questions.
Zack has offered Amy a blood bag. Now he turns to Evan. Do you need blood?
He shakes his head. I can wait.
Isabella had been quietly listening to the exchange between Evan and me. Now shes turned her attention to the bag in Zacks hand. Minutes ago she would have killed for blood. I glance over at Pierces body, battered and broken. She did kill for it. Now that shes fed, the transformation is astounding. Color and texture have returned to her skin and hair. She looks once again like the picture Dexter gave the police when she went missing. She joins Evan as he beats Zack to the last closed coffin, opens it, and peers inside.
Theres a flick of recognition and something elsea shadow of guilt? Evan says gruffly, This ones got to have blood.
Ill get it. Isabella plucks one from the pile Zack left on a nearby table and opens it.
You know him. Its not a question. Evans expression tells me its true.
His name is Owen Cooper. Evan jerks the sheet wrapped around his waist tighter. His expression is filled with both frustration and anger. Where the fuck are my clothes? His voice rises, giving vent to anger the only way he can.
I lay a hand on his arm. Ill see if I can find them. I head for the single closed door I havent yet opened. Lets see whats behind door number four. When I open it, theres only an empty bed inside and a closet, also empty.
On my way back to the lab, I notice a trash can marked HAZARDOUS WASTE pushed underneath the sink against the back wall. Incineration would be a neat and tidy way to dispose of evidence. I lift the lid. Theres a suit lying right on top. I pull it out and shake it. Shirt, tie, and shoes are bunched inside and fall to the floor. The suit is well tailored, looks to be the right size. Probably Evans. Under the suit in the trash can are other mens clothing, black jeans, black T-shirt, leather jacket. Owens maybe? I quickly gather them up. The womens clothes are nowhere to be found. Pierce must have already disposed of them. I make a side trip into the lab and grab two sets of scrubs from the shelf. Not exactly designer duds, but somehow I dont think the vampires will complain.
What were they going to do with us? Evan asks when I reenter the room.
I realize the others have all quieted, awaiting my response. Dr. Pierce discovered that vampire organs could universally be transplanted into humans. And because a vampires organs regenerate
She could do it over and over again. Isabella, still wrapped in a sheet, places a hand over her abdomen where I saw the web of scars.
I wonder if even now the scars are becoming fainter, skin knitting itself whole.
Zack is speaking. Until the silver poisoning made it impossible.
Evans eyes are hard as he accepts his clothes from me. They are focused on Pierces body. Is she the one who did this to us?
I nod.
Who killed her?
I gesture toward Isabella. She and Amy are standing together, talking softly. When Isabella awoke, she was mad from starvation. It was pure reflex.
Evan looks me in the eye. If she hadnt killed the bitch, I would have. He drops the sheet and quickly steps into his clothes.
I approach the women and hand them the scrubs. Neither looks uncomfortable as they both drop their sheets, too, and slip them on. Vampires have low inhibitions. Im the one who turns away. Accepting sheets to cover themselves was obviously for my benefit. Certainly not Zacks. Hes quietly speaking with a naked Owen as if its the most natural thing in the world. The only creature less modest than a vampire is a shifter.
Zacks handed Owen four bags of blood.
Thanks, man.
The vampire still hasnt made an attempt to sit up. He gulps the offered blood eagerly, draining the first bag in seconds. He seems to be fumbling with the second, and without hesitation, Zack breaks it open and hands it to him. This time, he drinks more slowly. Within minutes of finishing the second bag, hes able to climb out of the coffin. Some of the wounds on his body where the silver blanket came in contact with his flesh have already started to heal. Owen stretches. He looks to have been in his midtwenties when he was turned. He has light brown hair and a sinewy build, which at the moment is prominently on display.
I toss the remaining clothes I have to Zack so he can give them to the vampire, then turn to Evan, who has been staring at Owen. Does he need more blood?
Evan doesnt answer. Hes fully dressed now, down to the knotted tie and polished shoes, clothes wrinkled but presentable.
He heads toward Owen. You still look like shit, my friend, Evan tells him. Then to me, Hes going to need one, maybe two more bags.
How do you two know each other? Zack asks.
But Evans eyes dont flicker from the younger vampire. You were taken with me?
Owen nods.
I leave to fetch more blood. When I return, Owens on his fourth. He finishes it off and tosses it to the side, wiping the blood from his chin with his forearm.
Then he sees the clothes in Zacks hand. He grins and reaches over to grab the leather jacket. I thought for sure this was toast, he says. He pulls on the jeans, ignores the T-shirt, zips on the jacket. I feel better already.
Evan breaks into bag number five and offers it to him. His hand goes to Owens shoulder and gives it an encouraging squeeze. Youre going to be fine.
Zack looks from one to the other. If you two were taken at the same time, why does he look so much worse?
Evan doesnt answer, his expression calm, expectant. I get the impression he knows, but considers this Owens tale to tell.
Id been detoxing . . . again . . . trying to kick drinking straight from the tap . . . again. Owen tosses the empty blood bag onto the floor. I hadnt fed in seventy-two hours.
Evan holds up the last full bag, a questioning look on his face.
Owen shakes his head. Im good. Then to Zack, Evan is my sponsor. He was going to take me to an Emporium. I was due to start back on the bagged stuff. He turns back to Evan. Dude, who the fuck did you piss off?
You saw what happened? You tell me, Evan says. I dont remember anything except leaving the office two nights ago. I was on my way out when you pulled up. He passes a hand over his face. I never sensed anyone near me. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a coffin.
You were walking. There was a pop and you dropped, like a fly. I got out of my car and headed toward you. Thats the last thing I remember.
You didnt see anyone? I ask.
Not a fucking soul, Owen replies.
When did you last see Barbara Pierce? I ask Evan.
His eyes flick to her body. At my office, when she visited the afternoon before the benefit. It was the only time Id ever met her. I usually dealt with Alan directly. We had a lunch meeting scheduled and he was going to hand-deliver my tickets for the benefit. But he got stuck dealing with some last-minute details. So his mother stopped by to drop them off instead.
Thats the day you disappeared. From Zack.
Did you serve anything to eat or drink while she was there? I ask.
We all had tea.
Maybe she slipped some slow-working drug into your tea. Then waited for you to leave the building, I suggest, saying it to calm Evan. To try to contain this. Its Mager who brought the vampires down. Im sure of it. But its not up to Evan or anyone else in the vampire community to exact justice upon him. Mager may be a despicable criminal, but hes also human.
Unfortunately, Evan isnt buying it. Too much left to chance. Based on what Owen saw, Id say she had help. Evans jaw tightens as he looks around. An operation of this size? She had to have help. Is Barakov in on this? Or Alan?
He tone is sharp. He wants someone else to be involved. Someone alive on whom he can exact revenge.
I cant blame him. But I cant let him.
No, I reply. Alan told us Barakov didnt know anything about what his wife was doing. His only involvement was to give her the idea about silvers effect on vampires. I sweep my hand around. This was all her own idea.
And you believe him? Isabella asks.
He couldnt have lied, I reply simply. I know.
And yet Alan knew something, because here you are, Evan says.
He only recently found out what his mother was doing.