The Isis Collar (Blood Singer #4)

The Isis Collar (Blood Singer #4) Page 48

“How’s Mikey?”

“Better. They aren’t making any promises, but he’s improving. Julie’s still hanging in there, too. But…” He paused, and I steeled myself for bad news. “Willow Harris didn’t make it. The hospital crematorium’s getting quite a workout today.”

I couldn’t help but remember that feisty little girl with the big brown eyes. Tears blurred my vision and I slammed my fist against the steering wheel. Damn it!

“The drug company says they’re running out of the antibiotic, and that they’ll have to scramble for the immunizations as well.”

One death is bad enough, but I was seething that they were willing to let others die, too. “They’re lying. I was calling to tell you about a vision a powerful psychic I know had. Glinda and the drugs are hiding in the same place. But the worst part is, she’s getting ready to ship them out of the country. I swear I’ve been to that warehouse before, but I just can’t remember where or when. I’m walking into the doctor’s office right now to get the memory corruption spell removed. I’ll call you the second I know.”

There was a long silence. When he finally spoke it was very quietly, his voice intense, but controlled. “We need those drugs, now. You do whatever it takes to make that happen. Whatever it takes. And when you find the bitch responsible for this…”

“Hey, why tell me? I’m turning the whole mess over to you guys, Rizzoli. I don’t plan on running into her at all.”

“Yeah? We’ll see about that. Let’s call it a hunch you see her before I do.”

He hung up without saying another word. Just as well. My mouth was a desert and my mind, well … my mind was reeling. I’d had too many shocks today. It didn’t seem possible it was the same week when I’d been working out with Dawna, let alone sunset of the same day.

Sunset … the realization hit me at the same instant my inner vampire washed through me in a wave of power, hunger, and need. I hadn’t eaten, hadn’t even thought about eating. I froze with my hand on the door handle. My chest started to heave like I’d run a mile.

I should go back to the car, check and see if there were any shakes or baby food in the trunk. I should. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to go through those doors and find the nearest source of fresh blood. I wanted to stalk my prey until the adrenaline filled their system and take them down. I could feel them inside, feel their tiny lives that could be mine.

My hand pulled so I could explore and a burst of chilled air hit my face. I shuddered, swallowed convulsively, and wiped a long line of drool from my chin before it dripped down my shirt.

Slowly, carefully, I made myself let go of the door handle. I forced myself back to the car. I could do this. I would do this. But it was so hard. Part of the problem was physical. The food in the trunk would take care of that. The other part was mental and emotional. I felt such rage at what Glinda had done to innocent children, to John. The vampire part of my nature drew power from negative emotions, and it was harder to control right now than it had been since the very first night after the bite. I kept my eyes closed as I guzzled three nutrition shakes in a row and then liquid vitamins, shuddering at the taste—not because it was bad, but because it wasn’t what I wanted, needed. I rested my palms on the trunk lid and lowered my head, trying to get control as the liquid hit my stomach. If I just stayed very still, concentrated on feeling the shake slide down …

A male voice behind me made my breath catch. Fingers turned to claws, convulsing with lightning speed. I struggled to keep them in place on the shiny paint. “Ms. Graves, are you coming in for your appointment or not? I have plans later this evening.” Dr. Jean-Baptiste tapped his watch with one finger.

His voice pounded my temples and I struggled to stay calm. “I need to grab a bite to eat.”

He scowled. “Couldn’t it wait?”

“No. It couldn’t.” I turned red eyes toward him. They had to be red and glowy because I could see him only as bands of color. “Not if you like your staff and don’t want to be sued by the families of your deceased patients.” I opened the last thing in my arsenal, a cherry-flavored sports drink. I chugged half while continuing to stare at him. His pulse was speeding up, but fortunately, my stomach was now full of liquid. I’d mostly stopped feeling vampirey. Of course I’d have to pee something fierce in about a half hour, but there you go.

I twisted the cap back on the bottle and stuck it in the trunk of the car. Slamming the lid shut, I followed him through the front doors and empty corridors and into his office. “Where’s Simone?” I was surprised she wasn’t here. It was late, but not nearly as late as my first appointment. In fact, the whole place was deserted. I was surprised only because the office was open on the weekend and closed on Monday and Tuesday. I got the impression that it was a religious thing.

“You needn’t have worried. I let the staff off early.” He held open the door to the back hall. “Go all the way back. I’m going to want to use the big summoning circle. John Creede explained the situation fully.”

I did what he asked, but I was puzzled. John had made it sound like this would be no big deal. But I wasn’t the doctor, or a mage. I was just a patient. A very impatient patient, so I didn’t ask what would normally be really obvious questions.

I can be so freaking stupid.

I didn’t even hear the sound of the Taser charging until it was too late and I lay twitching on the cold, hard linoleum. At first, I wasn’t too worried. I’ve been tased before and heal from it pretty fast. But I hadn’t expected that he would push the button over and over before my muscles could recover, sending charges of electricity through me until I was screaming. I’d heard you could stop a heart with enough jolts, but he didn’t stop until I was totally helpless, nearly unconscious. I couldn’t stop him from taking my cell phone and keys away, then dragging me by my feet into the casting circle set into the floor to join a wide-eyed Simone, who was gagged and bound with layers of silver duct tape—her arms fastened behind her and her legs strapped so tight her ankles were already swelling. I only noticed because they were right next to my nose.

Soon I looked just like her, shiny with silver tape, except for my mouth. Damn it.

Jean-Baptiste took a step away from the circle. With will and a word he powered up the magic, creating a barrier that would be impassible from the inside. Any living creature could break it just by crossing from the outside to in. But there was no one in the building to do it. I was just as much his prisoner as Simone.

He strolled over to the phone on the wall next to the chicken roosts. With nimble fingers he pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and dialed a number. Someone must have answered, because he said, “Tell Glinda I’ve got the siren. I’ll turn her over tomorrow at midnight in exchange for a hundred thousand dollars.”

Son of a bitch.

He frowned at whatever the person on the other end said. “No, that’s not negotiable. Tell her to have the full amount ready. I’ll call with a location.” He shook his head in wry amusement as he hung up the phone and addressed us like we were pals in the process or something. “Really, can you believe the gall? Trying to dicker? Please. If I were actually doing this for the money I’d be furious.”

I was still lying on the floor unable to move. I couldn’t really even think clearly yet. I knew I needed to, vaguely and distantly. But the surge of electricity through my body seemed to have affected my ability to feel as well as think clearly or act.

My captor walked calmly up to the very edge of the circle, but was careful not to cross it. He peered at me for a long moment, lips pursed. Apparently he didn’t like what he was seeing, because he went and put on a headdress. When he returned he started muttering: first a spell, then profanities.

“You, Ms. Graves, are extremely annoying. The spell I put on the front door was not a weak one. You should have been overwhelmed with uncontrollable bloodlust that would send you hunting the nearest humans. You should have torn into Simone like a ravenous beast.”

I still wasn’t capable of movement, but my mind was starting to clear, enough that I could hear Simone trying to curse him through the duct tape. She strained against the bonds, the sinews in her neck stretching taut with rage and terror. And I didn’t feel a thing.

He tapped his lip thoughtfully with one finger. “Perhaps I should have used a lower setting. You’re not a large woman. But I couldn’t take the risk, particularly after you fought off my spell.”

He was talking to himself more than to me. I’d seen it in a couple of other doctors in all my medical visits of the past few days. It was almost as if I wasn’t real to them as a person, but bedside manner requires they at least act like they care. So they’d talk, but they really didn’t want or expect a response. Good thing in this case. Strength and clarity were seeping back into me, but it was a slow seep … a trickle of water through the solid stone of frozen muscles.

He stripped off the headdress and turned away. Setting it on the counter next to the monkey staff I remembered so well, he said, “You’ll have to excuse me. I need to e-mail my wife that I’m going to be late. I’ll be back in a few minutes to check in on you and see how things are progressing.” He left, closing the door behind him. The instant he was gone Simone began working her arms back and forth, trying to loosen the duct tape and free her arms.

Good luck with that, I thought. I’ve been bound like that before. Duct tape is a lot sturdier than most people realize from casual use.

If you have a better suggestion, I’d love to hear it.

Her voice in my head was acerbic. I blinked. You’re a telepath.

Yes, which means I have absolutely no excuse for him getting the better of me. Fool that I am I trusted him. By the way, what is wrong with your voice? It’s really garbled and rough, like fingernails on chalkboard. I can only understand about every third word. It hurts my head.

Apparently I sound like a gull. Or so say the other sirens. The pain in her mental voice was scalding. “Sorry.” I tried to say the word out loud. It came out sounding like I’d just come from the dentist, but the fact my mouth actually was working at all was good news. In a few minutes I might actually start feeling like a human being again. I was looking forward to it.