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Night's Kiss (Children of The Night 1)

Page 58

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Smiling at the comparison, Anthony closed the trunk.

"Call me if you need me," Myra said.

Loken nodded.

"Are you taking them out to the lab?"

"Just him."

"Be sure to strengthen the wards and wrap the doorknobs in silver, just in case."

"I know what to do," he said somewhat testily.

She smiled disarmingly. "Of course you do. Where are you taking the girl?"

"To my place. It doesn't seem wise to keep them together."

"Perhaps you're right. You will let me know as soon as you learn anything?"

With a nod, Anthony opened the car door and slid behind the wheel. Jamming the key into the ignition, he put the car in gear and stomped on the gas. He glanced in the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the curb. If it wasn't for Myra, he might not have managed to capture both witch and vampire so easily, he thought resentfully, and because of that, she would pay dearly when the elixir was his.

Roshan regained consciousness slowly, aware that the sun had not yet risen. His body felt heavy. Every nerve and cell shrieked with pain. His eyes were swollen and it was an effort to open them.

He recognized the laboratory immediately, grimaced when he realized he was bound to the metal table that had once held Jimmy Dugan's corpse, and that he was naked from the waist up. A thick leather strap ran across his chest, securing him to the table. His hands and feet were secured to the table by heavy silver chains fastened to thick silver manacles on his wrists and ankles. The silver seared his skin. His arms and chest, wet with holy water, burned like the very fires of hell.

Turning his head to the right, he saw a cadaver lying on a table against the far wall. Glancing to his left, he saw Loken watching him, a cloying smile on his face.

"So," the wizard said, pushing away from the doorway. "Awake at last."

Roshan licked his lips. His throat, still bound by silver, felt as if it was burning from the inside out. "Where's Brenna?"

"She's no longer your worry." Loken picked up a syringe from the counter and jabbed it in the large vein in Roshan's left arm.

"What are you going to do with her?"

"I tried infusing vampire blood into several people with no success, and when that failed, I tried having them drink it." Loken shrugged. "That didn't work, either. And then I realized that I was using the wrong test subjects. What I needed was— "

"A witch," Roshan said, his stomach churning with anxiety.

"Exactly."

"It won't work," Roshan said. He watched with morbid fascination as the warlock filled a glass vial with his blood, then jabbed another needle into the same vein.

"I think it will."

"What… what's the body for?" The silver weighed heavily on his throat, making it difficult to speak.

"Ah, yes, the body. Well, it occurred to me that diluting vampire blood with the blood from a corpse might make it less potent and thereby less toxic to mortals," Loken replied with a grin. "Mixing dead blood with dead blood, as it were."

"You can't steal a vampire's powers from his blood. There's only one way to get them," Roshan snarled, baring his fangs. "This way."

Loken jumped back in spite of himself. Angered by his show of weakness, he jabbed another needle in Roshan's vein. "If I'm right, I'll soon know it. If I'm wrong… " He shrugged. "Your bride will pay the ultimate price."

A low growl rose in Roshan's throat as he struggled against the chains that bound him to the table. The pain in his body, excruciating as it was, was nothing compared to his fear for Brenna's life. But the holy water combined with the silver did their work all too well. Panting heavily, he fell back on the table. "Damn you— do what you want with me, but let her go."

"How very noble of you," Loken said with a sneer. "I had no idea vampires were so chivalrous."

Roshan glared at him, his hands clenching in impotent rage as the warlock withdrew yet another vial of blood.

Moving to the counter, Loken pulled a tray filled with small glass bottles from the overhead cupboard and proceeded to fill them, mixing the blood he had taken from Roshan with the blood he had taken earlier from the dead man.

"I think that will be enough to start with," Loken remarked, and capping the vials on the tray, he left the room.

Roshan stared after him. Hunger burned deep inside him, made worse by the blood that the warlock had taken from him. His whole body felt as though it were on fire. The hunger burned through his veins; the holy water and the silver manacles seared his flesh.

He tugged against the chains that bound him, groaned softly as the silver bit deeper into his flesh.

"Damn you, Loken!" he roared. "Damn you to hell!"

Concentrate. He had to concentrate. He had to find Brenna and get her out of here before Loken performed whatever experiments he had in mind.

He cursed softly. Never, in all his existence, had he experienced such agony. If he managed to get out of this, Anthony Loken would be a dead man five minutes later!

Concentrate. Make a friend of the pain. Let it strengthen you. He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax as he endeavored to gather his power around him. But he was weak, so weak. He couldn't concentrate, couldn't think of anything but the agony that leeched his strength and clouded his mind.

Concentrate! He had to find a way to escape the chains that imprisoned him.

He had to find Brenna.

He had to feed before it was too late, before the hunger engulfed him, blinding him to everything else…

Brenna glanced at her surroundings. She was in a large room, lying on a four-poster bed, still wearing her wedding gown. The walls were a pale sickly green. Curtains of a similar color hung at the single window to the left of the bed. A small square night table held a Tiffany lamp, which offered the room's only light. There were no pictures on the walls. A triple dresser stood across from the bed. Her veil was draped over a corner of one of the mirrors.

Where was she? There was a terrible taste in her mouth. Nausea roiled in her stomach. Her nose itched. When she tried to scratch it, she realized her arms were stretched over her head and her hands were bound to the bedposts.

Fear slammed into her. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was being in Myra 's shop, drinking a toast…

Brenna licked her lips. Had she been drugged? Where was Roshan?

Dread trapped her breath in her lungs as she heard footsteps approaching. She stared at the doorknob, suddenly afraid that she knew who was on the other side of the door.



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