City of Light (Outcast 1) - Page 89

I nodded. “A good drug.” It was one that killed slowly, without pain. It also forced the recipient to tell the truth, although it was nowhere near as powerful as the drug I’d used. He would be dead long before the Veritite truly began to react on my body.

The autocook beeped. He retrieved his coffee, took a sip, then said, “How did you know?”

“I tasted it when you kissed me.”

“And by then it was already too late to do anything about it.”

I nodded. “For both of us, I’m afraid. Because Veritite is not the only poison I’ve ingested this evening, and the vial I took began working on you the minute you touched me.” My voice was soft and edged with sadness, but it nevertheless contained a hint of command as I added, “You will keep your voice low and you will not call for help, either physically or mentally. You will not move unless I order it.”

He tried. His body trembled with effort as he attempted to move his arms, then his legs. But he couldn’t even drink the coffee from the mug he

held close to his lips. His fury and need to kill washed over me, so fierce it snagged my breath for several seconds.

“Bitch,” he eventually muttered. “But at least I have the satisfaction of knowing that you will die beside me.”

I didn’t disabuse him of the notion. It was far better for him—and his partners—to believe that was the case. “Sit down on the chair, Sal.”

He fought the order with all that he had, but his body had been mine to do with as I wished the minute he’d pressed his length against me. He might still have free thought, but he couldn’t refuse any order I gave him.

And soon he wouldn’t even have free thought, let alone breath or life itself.

I pushed away the tide of remorse and watched him move somewhat stiffly to the old chair and sit down. I rose, plucked the coffee from his grip, then sat back down on the bed again. After taking a sip of the hot but bitter liquid, I said, “What are you doing with the children, Sal?”

“I’m doing nothing with them. Were you the one who raided the bunkers?”

I half smiled. The compulsion to answer beat through my brain, thanks to the Veritite, but it was a desire I could have successfully fought if I’d wished. But there was no point in wasting energy that way. “Yes. How did you find out?”

His smile held very little in the way of humor. “Deseo is the first brothel I owned. I’m still a silent partner.”

Which perhaps explained his odd reluctance to set me up for an interview with Winter Halo’s recruitment officer. Maybe he’d suspected that I was behind the break-in at Deseo; he’d certainly never been one to believe in coincidences.

“What are your partners doing with the children?”

“Developing immunity. How did you find the false rifts?”

“The Carleen ghosts told me about them.” I paused, frowning. “Why do you need children to develop immunity? And immunity against what?”

His smile was cold and humorless. “We need them because they are either survivors of the rift doorways, or the children of such survivors, and that makes them special.”

“So it’s not all rifts we’re talking about?”

“No. Most kill. But those that are doorways bleed not only magic into this world, but also the matter—the very atoms of creation—from the other side.”

My gaze widened a little as the implications hit. “Meaning those who survive such rifts are neither of this world or the next, but a mix of both?”

He nodded. “And the perfect subjects to use in our attempts to develop immunity serums.”

I frowned. “Immunity to what?”

“To light, of course.”

“But why do you need that? You can walk in light easily enough.”

“I can, but those with whom I now share DNA cannot.” He paused, and life seemed to leach from his eyes, leaving them cold and hard and alien. “Did you use your seeking skills on me?”

“Yes. I know you were caught in a rift with three others, one of which was a wraith.” His breathing was becoming harder, faster, a sign that the drug was beginning to shut down his system. I doubted he was aware of the problem just yet, but he would be, very soon. I had to get my answers while he could still speak. “Why are you doing this, Sal? The wraiths will kill us all if they ever get hold of something like that.”

He smiled, but it held little in the way of warmth or humor. “They won’t kill all of us. And it’s not just the wraiths we seek immunity for, but also the vampires.”

Tags: Keri Arthur Outcast Fantasy
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