Phantom Shadows Part 39

"Seth."

"What?"

Zach met his gaze. "You're battling a mythological beast there."

Seth shook his head. "I don't know what you're-"

"Hydra," Zach clarified. "You're fighting the Lernaean Hydra."

"The Greek mythological creature Hercules was sent to slay that had all the heads?"

Zach nodded shortly. "Cut off one head and it grows two more. Your immortal black sheep didn't know what he was breeding when he undertook his uprising."

"I a.s.sume you mean Sebastien."

"You can't defeat it. Every head poses a threat. To you. To us. The more heads, the greater the threat. They can't know who you are. And they can't know who we are. The others won't stand for it. Already there have been rumblings."

They had cut off Sebastien's "head" and Montrose Keegan and the Vampire King had replaced him. They had cut off those two's heads and . . . were still trying to find out who had taken their place. Was Zach saying Emrys wasn't working alone? That whomever they fought now would conquer them?

"You're forgetting one thing," Seth said.

"What?"

"Hercules defeated Hydra . . . with Iolaus's help."

"I'm no Iolaus."

Seth raised his eyebrows. "Did I say you were?" He bowed. "Thank you for the tip."

Wondering what disaster he would face next, Seth teleported to the States.

Quiet fell in Seth's absence, broken by the crackling flames that devoured the small house. The scent of disturbed earth wafted on the breeze.

Zach hadn't told Seth why he had come, why he had alerted him to the fact that he was needed, because Zach really didn't know. It had been a dumb-a.s.s thing to do. He would gain nothing from it. And would lose much.

Sighing, he flexed his shoulders. A pair of nearly translucent wings burst from his back. Matching the tan color of his skin at their base, they gradually darkened to black at their tips. The fragile feathers fluttered a bit as wind ruffled them.

He lacked even the time to stretch them their full span before figures began to step from the shadows.

Matching him and Seth in height, they strode forward with purpose, surrounding him on all sides.

He smiled grimly.

Had they feared he wouldn't return? That they wouldn't have the chance to exact their punishment?

He tucked his wings away, hoping to protect them from what he knew would come.

"You were warned," one stated.

"So I was."

"You know what we must do."

He decided now wasn't the time to debate the word must.

Zach spread his arms wide and borrowed a phrase from Seth's black sheep. "So be it."

While Bastien counted every second that pa.s.sed and silently castigated himself on what would be Cliff's sofa, Richart lounged in a chair near the apartment's door.

"Does Melanie know you love her?" he asked softly.

"No." Bastien kept his face buried in his hands, his elbows planted on his knees. "What the h.e.l.l do I know about love? The last two people I loved were my sister Cat and her husband Blaise. Cat's been dead for two centuries, killed by Blaise, and-genius that I am-I believed him when he blamed someone else."

"What's your point?"

"My point is . . ." He shook his head. "It's been so long . . . I don't know how to love anymore."

"Well, you must be doing something right, because Melanie lights up whenever you walk into the room. And we both know you make her heart pound."

"I've brought nothing but chaos and pain into her life."

"This isn't your fault."

Bastien laughed mirthlessly. "Yes, it is. Everything I touch turns to s.h.i.+t. Every life I enter goes to h.e.l.l." Knowing Cliff and Joe were likely being tortured by Emrys just made everything worse.

Sebastien, he heard Linda say in the OR, you can see her now.

Richart stopped him at the door. "You will have to fight your way through the guards if you burst through it the way I know you want to. Just let me exit first and walk with me at a brisk human pace. If Melanie is conscious, it will upset her to see you full of holes or being dragged away in t.i.tanium chains by Chris's men. She doesn't need that right now."

Bastien wanted to tell Richart that in the time it had taken him to say all of that he could have just teleported them there, but knew the Frenchman had elected not to so Chris's men would know where they were and there would be no confusion.

"Fine. Just open the d.a.m.n door."

The guards out in the hallway were the same ones Bastien had plowed through last night. All stiffened at his appearance and fingered their weapons, ready to shoot him at the slightest provocation. Had he been alone and had the circ.u.mstances not been so f.u.c.ked up, Bastien may have been tempted to mess with them a little, sure that even a cough would set them off. But he wasn't alone. Richart would be hit by stray bullets. And Melanie would not so much be upset as p.i.s.sed when she saw the grisly results.

Linda must have warned the others she was summoning him because the room to which her voice led him was empty save for her and Melanie.

Melanie's face was nearly as pale as the white sheet upon which she lay. Her eyelids were closed and remained so when they entered. She showed no response to their presence at all, even after Linda welcomed them.

Bastien couldn't seem to speak, couldn't bring himself to ask.

So Richart did it for him. "What's her condition?"

"We transfused her with fresh blood, removed all of the infected blood we could, but . . . the virus worked swiftly. She was infected on a large enough scale for a long enough time that her immune system has been completely compromised. The damage is irreparable."

Richart cleared his throat. "Are you saying she's going to die?"

"Yes."

Bastien stared at Melanie.

This was their greatest dilemma with the d.a.m.ned virus. Even if they found a cure, something to kill it, to make immortals and vampires mortal again, the mortals would be left with no immune system and would die, because the first thing the virus did was conquer, then replace the immune system.

Bastien forced his feet to carry him forward, stopped beside the bed. A needle was taped to one of Melanie's hands and led to an IV drip. But the one closest to him was bare.

He took it in his own. Her soft skin was cold, her long, graceful fingers limp. "Richart."

"Yes?"

"Bring Roland."

"What?"

"Roland can't help her, Sebastien," Linda said gently. "Seth and David can't either. No healer can. That's the nature of the virus. That's one of the many things that make it different from any other on the planet."

Bastien met Richart's gaze. "Get Roland and bring him here. Now."

Richart shared a look with Linda, then vanished.

Neither Bastien nor Linda said a word while they waited.

Moments later, Richart appeared with both Roland and Sarah. Removing his hands from their shoulders, he staggered a step to the side.

Bastien caught his gaze. "Now etienne and Lisette."

Richart studied him, then nodded and disappeared.

Roland scowled and opened his mouth to blast him with some bulls.h.i.+t or other, but Bastien cut him off by turning to Linda. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Her nervous gaze went from him to Roland to Sarah and back. "I respectfully decline."

"I'm afraid that option isn't available to you."

She raised her chin. "Lanie is my friend. I'm not going to leave her."

"You needn't fear," Roland vowed, that familiar scowl creasing his forehead. "We won't let him harm her."

Sarah smiled rea.s.suringly. "We just need to talk for a moment. We'll bring you back in as soon as we're finished."

Linda looked at Roland. "Please call me back in if you're going to try to heal her."

"As you will."

Her reluctance obvious, Linda left and closed the door behind her.

Richart returned with Lisette, then vanished again.

Lisette gave Sarah a faint smile and nodded at Roland.

Roland didn't notice. He was already blistering Bastien's ears with his b.i.t.c.hing.

"First of all," he snarled, "don't ever send Richart to my home without warning. I nearly killed him! And don't ever summon me. If you require my healing skills, you can kiss my a.r.s.e. If someone else needs my skills, pick up the f.u.c.king phone and call me. If there isn't time for me to get to you by car, then you can send Richart to my home. But don't ever-"

"I get it," Bastien interrupted just as Richart reappeared with his twin.

etienne caught his brother by the arm and steadied him as he listed to one side. "Richart told us Dr. Lipton is dying."

"I'm so sorry, Bastien," Sarah said.

"She isn't going to die," he told them.

Roland lost some of his fury. "You know I can't heal her." He actually looked sympathetic. "I can't cure the virus and I can't reverse the damage it does."

"I don't want you to heal her. I want you to transform her."

Shock rippled through the room like a jolt of electricity. Eyes widened. Looks were exchanged.

"No," Roland said finally.

"She won't turn vampire."

"Yes, she will. You may not want her to, but-"

"She's a gifted one."

"b.o.l.l.o.c.ks."

"I wouldn't lie about this."

"You'd lie about anything if it suited your purpose."

"Not this. I wouldn't want her to turn vampire."

"Why not? You love vampires."

Bastien's nerves began to wear thin. "Richart?"

"I don't think he would lie about this. He cares for her too much."

Lisette spoke. "His thoughts match his words. He's telling the truth."

"Even if he is," Sarah said, "as Roland once told me, the fact that she can be transformed doesn't mean that she wants to be transformed."

"She wants to," he insisted. "She told me she did."

"b.o.l.l.o.c.ks," Roland said again.

Sarah looked up at Lisette. "Is it true?"