Desolation: Chapters 7 & 8
Dominion of the Damned: Book One
In a world where zombies roam and vampires rule, how far will Hannah Jordan go to survive?
Desolation is the first book in my post-apocalyptic horror trilogy, Dominion of the Damned.
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Chapter Seven
Only Alek would have the audacity to barge into Esme’s office without knocking. He slammed the door behind him and stormed over to her desk, where she sat talking on the phone. “Where is she?”
Esme held up a finger, refusing to be interrupted. “Yes,” she said to the caller, “I understand. Of course I’ll comply. But you understand this goes against my best judgment.”
Alek leaned over and placed his palms on the desk. “Where is she?” He said it slowly, enunciating each syllable for emphasis.
“Yes, my lord,” Esme continued her conversation. “He’s here right now. I’ll tell him.” She hung up and leaned back in her chair. “That was Lord Balthazar. He called to inform me that the Council approved your request.” She shook her head and laughed bitterly. “You bastard. How dare you go over my head?”
He straightened and looked down at her. “I wouldn’t have to if you were reasonable, instead of letting old feelings and petty jealousies get in the way of—”
“Of what, Alek?” She bolted from her chair and came around the desk to face him head on. “Of allowing your feelings, your soft, bleeding heart to dictate how I run my camp? If I allowed you to take every doe-eyed human who caught your fancy, I’d have nothing left!”
“What have you done with her, Esme?”
“Who, the girl? Nothing. She was scheduled to make her contribution today. Have you checked the infirmary?”
“She was there. I changed her bag myself. But since then no one has seen her. Nobody remembers discharging her, and she hasn’t shown up to her work assignment. I’ve looked everywhere for her.”
Esme folded her arms. “So naturally you assumed that I’ve resorted to nefarious measures to ensure you can’t have her.”
He snorted. “As if you’re above that.”
“Touché. But as you just witnessed, I only now learned of the Council’s orders. Why would I bother hiding the girl if I stupidly thought my command was enough to keep her here?” She stepped closer, invading his personal space. He stood his ground. “What did you tell them, Alek? How did you convince them to let you have the girl?”
“The same thing I told you. That I require her to care for the boy. They seemed to think it was a perfectly reasonable request.”
“And why, exactly, do you need the infant? What are you really up to at that commune of yours?”
“What do you mean? You know my work.”
“Yes, I know what you claim is your work. I know what you’ve been ordered to research. But you’ve never exactly been one to follow orders. And it’s funny. None of the other researchers require children. And believe it or not, some of them are more brilliant than you, my dear Aleksandr.” She leaned in closer, close enough to share breath. Close enough to kiss. He swallowed. She thought she saw a flicker of temptation in his eyes, and it lit a spark of hope deep within her. But he turned away and began pacing the room.
“They’re fools. The blood of children is more pure. It hasn’t been exposed to as many illnesses or toxins.”
“But what difference does it make? Synthetic blood won’t have any of those things anyway.”
“It makes a difference in the cloning samples. Look, we’re wasting time,” he said, changing the subject. Esme knew he was hiding something if he was loath to discuss his work. Alek loved nothing more than to bore anyone in earshot with his scientific babble. “I’m leaving at sunset. And I’m leaving with the girl. Find her.”
“Ya vol, mein herr.” She stuck her arm out in mock salute. The hurt and hateful look he gave her made her instantly regret the little joke. Of course he wouldn’t find it the least bit amusing. Esme leaned against the desk and sighed. “She’s probably snooping around, considering her escape options, knowing that one.”
“Why? Has she been trouble?”
“No, but it’s only a matter of time. You could see it in her eyes. The defiance. The sense she’s biding her time until her opportunity presents itself. That one is more trouble than she’s worth.” She flicked her wrist, as if to sweep the problem of the girl toward Alek. “You’re welcome to her. Have Celine organize a search.”
He glared at her a bit longer, the muscles in his jaw working themselves into a frenzy as he chewed on his anger. At last, he nodded, and went to the door.
“And don’t think I don’t know what you’re really up to at that camp of yours,” she said. He paused with his hand on the doorknob. He didn’t look at her. “You’re not one of them, Alek. You haven’t been for a very long time. You’re not their savior. You’re a killer. Like me. The sooner you accept that, the happier you’ll be.”
He kept his gaze fixed on the doorknob as his mouth turned up in an ironic smile. Softly he said, “I will never be like you, Esme.” He opened the door. “That’s why we couldn’t work,” he said, stepping into the hall. He looked at her then and added, “That’s why we never will.” He closed the door behind him.
Esme scowled at the door for a long moment before going to the bookcase and helping herself to the warden’s Scotch. She was going to go through the entire stash at this rate. She poured herself a glass. Raising it to her lips, she imagined what she must look like, and laughed. Alek was causing her to turn to drink like a spurned housewife. Her laugh turned to a scream of rage as she threw the glass at the door. It shattered, raining pieces on the floor as the liquid ran down the door.
The bastard thought he was so much better than her. Did he even remember the pleasure he’d once taken from the kill? Esme remembered. The look of ecstasy on his face as he gorged himself on Nazi blood was permanently etched on her mind’s eye. So was the look of pure, raw desire as she’d welcomed him into her arms, into her bed, his Angel of Mercy, showing him pleasures beyond anything his mortal mind had been capable of dreaming. And he had been an eager pupil, every step of the way.
Until the last night. Their last night together, when his love for her—if whatever he had felt for her could be called love—had grown as cold as her usefulness to him.
She could still see him there, standing in the middle of that tavern in Berlin, surrounded by the mutilated bodies of his poor little wife’s tormentors and murderers. Blood soaked his shirt, covered his mouth, neck and hands as he stared at his reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bar. “I’m a monster,” he’d said, and truer words had never been spoken. He was glorious.
And he was done with her. He had accomplished his mission, and he had no more need of angels, avenging or otherwise.
“Ingrate,” she muttered as she returned to her desk. She sat down and leaned back in her chair, rapping her fingernails on the oaken desk. She felt like bursting out of her own skin. She considered the mess of broken glass over by the door and thought of pouring herself another drink. But alcohol couldn’t possibly temper this need. Not even close. She needed a physical outlet for the urges boiling over inside her.
She leaned over her desk and pushed a button on the intercom. “Celine, I’ve had an accident. Send someone from the cleaning crew to my office.” She paused before adding, “Make it male. Youthful and strong. And then go and join the others in searching for that wretched girl. I don’t wish to be disturbed.”
“Yes, mistress,” came Celine’s voice over the intercom. Esme smiled. Celine had been made for greater things than a glorified prison secretary, but Esme knew she could count on her discretion. She sat back and, like a jungle cat in the tall grass lying in wait for its prey, watched the door.
The moment stretched tortuously into long minutes as Esme’s hunger drove her closer and closer to the edge. At last, someone rapped on the door to her office. She pushed her chair back from the desk, the better to show off her legs. “Come in.”
The door opened, and a young man wearing prison orange stuck his head inside. He bowed deferentially when he saw Esme, fixing his gaze on the floor. “You called for a clean-up?”
“Yes. Come inside.” She crossed her legs, slowly, and smiled. “Lock the door.” He faltered at the second command but did as he was told.
He was a fine specimen. Celine knew Esme too well. This one was blond and athletic, fully in his prime. Esme inhaled his scent, which told her he was in perfect health. Everything about him was delicious.
As he bent over to sweep up shards of glass, she took a sweet moment to enjoy the view before saying, “That can wait. What’s your name?”
He stood up and looked at her, clearly disconcerted by her attention. His heart sped up and a wash of adrenaline filled Esme’s nose and inflamed her hunger. But she had to give him credit for keeping the fear from his expression.
“Doug,” he said. “Doug Worthman.”
“How lovely to meet you, Doug.” She started toying with the buttons of her blouse, unbuttoning it little by little. “I have another little problem you can help me with.”
His face lost the battle it was fighting and betrayed a flicker of fear. He licked his lips, but it clearly wasn’t out of desire. “I . . .”
“You have nothing to fear, Douglas. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while. Do me this little favor, and I’ll do you one in return. There must be something you want.” She traced a finger over the curve of her breast, and gave him a coy smile. “Besides me.”
He hesitated before crossing over to her, and kept his eyes on the floor. She cooled it with the buttons. No point if he wouldn’t even look at her. “I . . . I have a daughter,” he said. “It’s been over a month since I’ve seen her, and I’m not scheduled to see her again for another two weeks. But tomorrow’s her birthday, and I was hoping... do you think you could arrange for me to spend the day with her?”
“I don’t know. That depends. I can probably be talked into it, if I’m in a really good mood.”
He glanced up at her, just long enough for her to see a flash of humiliation in his eyes, and nodded. He unsnapped the top of his jumpsuit.
With a sigh, Esme got up. She sashayed around the desk, undoing the rest of her blouse as she went. She took his hand and brought it to her lips, sliding a finger seductively into her mouth. Her tongue felt his pulse quicken through his fingertip. She guided his hand to her breast, unblemished by stretch marks, untouched by gravity. This time when he licked his lips, it betrayed hunger, despite his fear and humiliation. His arousal made itself known through the fabric of his jumpsuit. “Is it really so bad, this arrangement of ours?” she asked as she slid her blouse from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
He shook his head, already too consumed by lust to form words, and his arms slipped around her waist, crushing her to him as his mouth ravaged her. He was beautiful. His boyish face, almost too pretty for a man, had been carved by time and worry into the very image of masculine character. His physique was well sculpted and strong. He was perfect.
Yanking her skirt up, he gripped her hips and lifted her onto the desk. He groaned her name as he pushed inside her, and she offered him a moan of encouragement. She lay back and let him take his pleasure, as much as he wanted. Once he was sated and pliable, it was her turn.
Her fangs slid through his skin like butter, and molten copper flooded her mouth and warmed the back of her throat. The warming sensation continued into her stomach and spread through her limbs, making her feel flush with new life. It was such a change from the cold, lifeless rations on which they’d been forced to subsist. Drinking blood from bags, extracted through a tube and stored away in the cold, was like living on bread and water. It filled their bellies and took the edge off their hunger, but it was bland and tasteless, with none of the nutrients that helped them thrive. But this, unfiltered and straight from the tap, was like a steak and lobster feast in comparison. She felt his adrenaline flow through her, and it only made her want more. She held tight and clamped down as he emptied himself into her in more ways than one.
Not until she had to suck to keep the blood flowing did she realize what she’d done. She released him, but it was already too late. His pulse had faded to a barely perceptible flutter, and his breath came in wheezing gasps. “Shit,” she muttered, unable to believe she’d lost control like that. Furious with herself, she shoved him off of her and stormed into the adjoining office, the one she used as a bed chamber, to get dressed. She knew what she had to do, and she had to do it fast.
Siring him wasn’t an option. Once upon a time, she’d have considered it. He was a good lover, and she thought he’d make a fine companion if he could be made to forget about his little brat. But those days were over, and turning him would be as incriminating as leaving his exsanguinated corpse in her office to be found. Either way, everyone would know she’d been double-dipping from the community well, something that could get her just as irreversibly dead as he was about to be if it got back to her superiors.
She exchanged what was left of her suit for a pair of black jeans and a black hooded sweater. Black, knee-high boots and leather gloves ensured that none of her skin was left exposed, and a muffler and a pair of sunglasses would protect her face. Once she was dressed, she went back into her office and crossed to the door to make sure there were no witnesses.
It was well past dawn, and most of the staff would be sleeping. Either that or indulging in their own illegal dalliances. She knew she was hardly the only one who took advantage of human desperation; but just because others did it, too, didn’t mean they wouldn’t turn her in, either because they wanted her job or they wanted to curry favor with the High Council for other reasons.
Esme took her master key card from the desk, picked up her broken toy and slung him over her shoulder. She hurried down the hall to the stairwell, thankful for the rubber soles of her boots that muffled her footsteps. She carried him up to the top floor, where the children were kept. They were on the opposite end, though, and this part of the prison should be deserted. It was unlikely that any of the human inhabitants would look up and see her, but if they did, fear would keep them silent. Besides, she’d be so covered up that they wouldn’t recognize her.
She set him down at the top of the stairwell. She raised her hood and wrapped the muffler protectively around her face, then put on the sunglasses. Sufficiently shielded, she hefted him up and opened the door.
Daylight spilled through the windows. The clouds and her clothing would buy her some time, but they wouldn’t protect her forever. She had to work fast. She found the catwalk that led out to the guard tower, and crossed it with swift, sure feet.
Once in the tower, she looked down at the throng of walking, rotting meat that pressed inanely against the wall, as if it would eventually just open up and let them come right in. Alek thought they might be related to those things somehow, distant cousins bound by mutated strains of the same virus. But Alek was often full of shit, and she found the idea nothing less than insulting. She had nothing in common with those disgusting, brainless meat bags except the ability to keep walking without a heartbeat. But as much as she despised them, they did sometimes have their uses, not the least of which was finally forcing humanity to acknowledge its proper place in the food chain.
She opened a window. It didn’t open wide, but it would do. She hauled up her baggage. As she did, he let out a weak moan. She almost didn’t hear it, drowned out as it was by the mindless groaning of the swirling mass below. She was surprised that he was still alive. She’d thought he’d surely be dead by now. He worked his mouth in a silent plea, and she sighed. “Sorry. Don’t worry about your daughter. I’ll make sure she gets some cake.”
She had to force him through the window, and her muffler came loose in the struggle. She fell back with a scream as the skin on her face boiled. Undeterred, she secured the muffler and gave him another shove. He went through that time. The mindless feeding machines tore him to pieces before he even touched the ground.
With her work finished, she fled back across the catwalk, through the hall and into the stairwell. Only after the door closed and shut out the last rays of daylight did she remove her muffler. She also pulled off a glove and gingerly touched a finger to her burns, sucking air through her teeth as pain lit up her face. At least it would heal quickly, spurred on by fresh blood. By the time anyone saw her there would be no trace of her transgression.
With the deed done, Esme closed her eyes and let herself revel in the satisfied feeling that washed through her body. She felt strong and alive. The only thing that could make it better would be someone to share this feeling with.
A scream interrupted her revelry. Her eyes snapped open. “What now?” she muttered as she followed the sound to investigate.
Chapter Eight
The vampire reached for Hannah, but putting his hand in the sunlight was like touching it to a hot stove. He hissed in pain and yanked it out of the light. “Shut up, you little bitch!”
She kept screaming. He kept yelling. “You think this sunlight will protect you forever? It’ll leave, but I’m not going anywhere. And then I’m going to rip out your heart and eat it while I rape the hole it leaves behind.”
Her throat grew hoarse, but she kept screaming.
The vampire laughed. “Look around! There’s nobody here to hear you!” He grinned. “Don’t blow your voice out, sweetheart. I’m gonna want to hear you screaming when I take you.”
“Take her where?”
Hannah stopped screaming as the vampire turned to face Esme.
“Mistress Esme!” The look of terror on his face would have been satisfying if not for the realization that Esme was covered in black from head to toe—like whoever she’d seen out on the guard tower. “What happened to your face?”
Esme lightly touched her fingers to her blistered cheek. Hannah hoped she’d gotten burned while feeding her victim to the zeds. That would be small punishment, but at least it was something. “I was careless in my rush to see who was screaming,” she lied as she joined the other vampire on the catwalk. “You’ve found our lost girl. The doctor will be pleased.” She looked from Hannah to the guard. “Unless you’re the reason she went missing in the first place.”
His eyes widened. “What? No! I swear, I found her sneaking around. I followed her up here. She has a stolen key.”
“He tried to rape me,” said Hannah. She didn’t know why she bothered. She doubted it would matter to the vampire she’d just witnessed tossing someone to the swarm outside.
“That’s a lie! You shut your mouth, you little—”
“Enough!” Esme looked him up and down. Her gaze lingered on his swollen, bloody nose, and then on his fly, still unzipped. “I take it she wasn’t easy prey.”
He shook his head. “I only tried to arrest her, I swear. I was gonna bring her back.”
“Liar,” said Hannah.
“Shut up!”
Esme sighed. “Well, I’m here now. I’ll take her back myself.” She held her hand out. “Give me your handcuffs.”
With a murderous look at Hannah, he unclipped a pair of cuffs from the back of his belt and handed them to his boss.
“And the key.”
He kept his eyes locked on Hannah as he dug the key out of his pocket and handed it over. He still glared at her when Esme slapped one end of the cuffs around his wrist. His head snapped toward her as she cuffed the other end to the rail. “What are you…”
“Miss Jordan, come with me,” she said, ignoring him.
“Mistress Esme! What is this?”
“My dear Victor, you know we have a zero-tolerance policy about hoarding food.”
“No! I wasn’t, I swear!”
Hannah stared in shock as the guard yanked and pulled on the cuffs. The shadow between the sunlight and the rail had already narrowed by a few inches, the sunlight creeping toward him.
“Miss Jordan, don’t make me come get you. I am dressed for the occasion.”
Hannah glanced at Esme and didn’t doubt she meant business. With one last look at her attacker, screaming curses at both of them as he strained against the cuffs, she turned and walked back toward the stairwell, careful to stay in the sunlight. For all the good it would do.
Esme walked beside her on the shadowed path. When they reached the last window, Hannah looked out and saw the guard tower where only moments before she’d seen what Esme had done. “Hypo-crite,” she muttered, unable to help herself, though she knew it was a mistake the moment it came out of her mouth.
Esme stopped. “What was that, dear?”
Hannah tore her gaze from the window. “Nothing.”
Esme studied her a moment, then shifted her gaze to the window and the view beyond. A wry smile spread across her lips. “I see.” She looked back at Hannah. “I think you’ll spend the rest of your short stay here in solitary confinement. You’ve stirred up quite enough trouble for one day.” She reached out a gloved hand and grabbed Hannah by the arm, jerking her out of the sun’s protection.
She led her back to the stairwell and down two flights of stairs, across another catwalk where the guard could still be heard screaming and swearing above them. Down another short corridor, they stopped in front of a lone cell with a heavy steel door. It had a small window at the top and a slot in the middle large enough to pass a tray of food. The cell itself was about the size of a closet, with a steel commode and a single bunk. Other than the one in the door, it had no windows. Esme shoved Hannah inside and held out her hand.
“The key card you stole.”
Reluctantly, Hannah dug the card out of her jumpsuit and handed it over. “I only wanted to find my brother and make sure he’s safe.”
“He is. For now. But I’m certain I told you that his remaining so depended entirely on your cooperation.”
Hannah’s eyes widened as Esme’s words sunk in. She lunged, but Esme slammed the door shut. Hannah had to stand on her toes to see through the window.
“Don’t you touch him!” She pounded on the door, but the only response was the sound of the guard screaming.
Hannah didn’t know how long she had been in solitary. At first she lay on the bunk and tried to block out the noise from the guard. He carried on for what felt like hours. His angry shouts eventually subsided into defeated whimpering. Then they abruptly turned to screams of fear and pain. And then, just as abruptly, they stopped.
She wanted to feel some sense of justice at the guard’s ending, satisfaction that there was one less monster in the world. But she was too focused on something Esme had said.
The rest of your short stay here…
Esme didn’t intend to let her leave this cell alive. She knew what Esme had done, and Esme knew that she knew. Hannah didn’t know why she couldn’t have just kept her head down and her mouth shut. That would have been the smart thing to do. She hoped and prayed that what Esme had said about Noah had only been a mind game. He was innocent, and only a baby; but after everything Hannah had seen, she wouldn’t put it past them to kill him just to punish her.
She had already combed every inch of her cell looking for a way out, or for some kind of weapon. But she found nothing but smooth surfaces. The bare mattress was a block of foam, no springs, and it rested on woven nylon straps that wrapped around a solid bed frame that was bolted firmly to the wall.
So she lay on it and waited. Her eyes and throat burned from crying and her stomach gnawed at itself with hunger. She wished she’d taken the time to finish her breakfast that morning.
She wished she’d been smart enough to stay in the damn shelter.
Footsteps echoed in the corridor. They sounded heavier than Esme’s. Hannah stood up. Her hands balled into fists, held at the ready as she waited. They might be stronger, but she could damn sure cause them pain before they finished her.
The door opened. Hannah stepped back, giving herself more room to kick.
“Are you all right?”
The doctor stood in the doorway. Hannah blinked in surprise. He’d exchanged his lab coat for a set of the black fatigues the others wore. He was alone, and he held the door open as though expecting her to walk out of the cell.
“Where’s my brother?” she asked.
“He’s safe. Come on. We’re leaving.” When Hannah didn’t move, he lifted an eyebrow. “Unless you’d actually rather stay here?”
“Where are we going?”
“Back to my camp.” His gaze grew concerned. He stepped inside the cell. “You have a contusion on your forehead,” he said, reaching for her face.
She turned away from his touch. “Yeah, that happens when you hit somebody with it. Why are we going to your camp?”
A slight smile tugged one corner of his mouth. Was that a look of amusement? Or appreciation? “I’ll explain everything when we get there. There are too many curious ears here, and they have excellent hearing.”
He exited the cell and waited for her to follow. She did, warily. Walking through the corridor, she kept some distance between them, staying two steps behind so she could keep an eye on him.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come get you sooner. I spent all day searching for you, but Esme waited all this time to tell me where she was keeping you.” There was anger in his voice, and a touch of bitterness. He also sounded weary, like this was an old battle that he was tired of fighting.
They reached the catwalk and started across the cell block. Halfway across, Hannah noticed ashes coating a spot on the rail and looked up to see dangling handcuffs. She shuddered and stopped walking. It took him a few paces to realize it and look back.
“I’m not going anywhere without my brother.”
“Of course not. He’s the reason you’re coming.”
“How’s that?”
He looked around as if to make sure nobody was in earshot before moving closer and leaning in. His lips brushed the hair next to her ear. She caught her breath and held it.
“I don’t break up families.”
He said it softly, but with such intensity that she almost believed him. But she still didn’t trust him. “What do you want with him?”
He looked around again and shook his head. “I can’t explain here. You’ll just have to trust me.”
Hannah snorted. As if. Konstantin started walking again. When she still didn’t follow, he looked back and sighed. “Do you want to see your brother, or not?”
That got her moving. She followed him to the stairwell, where instead of going down, they went up to the top floor. They exited, and he led her through another wooden door and down another hallway, where an exit sign over a door marked the end.
“What about those things outside? There are so many. How do we get past them?”
With his hand on the door, he looked back at her. “We go over them.” He swiped his key card and opened the door. It led onto the roof, where a helicopter waited for them.
Esme stood nearby. Hannah broke into a run as she realized the vampire held Noah in her arms.
“Give him to me.” Noah smiled and squealed happily when he saw her, and then lunged for her. Hannah caught him and held him tightly to her chest, glaring at Esme. “I swear to God, if you ever touch him again, I will kill you.”
Esme merely laughed. “Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you about this one, my dear,” she called. “She certainly thinks a lot of herself.”
Backing away from the vampire, Hannah checked Noah over. He appeared to be okay. She found no visible signs of abuse, and he seemed happy enough. He might have even gained a little weight.
“Who is this?” Konstantin asked. Only then did Hannah notice the other child, a little girl who clung to Esme’s hand and peeked out from behind her skirt. She couldn’t have been more than five.
“Another orphan,” said Esme. “I know you’ll insist on taking her next time, so you might as well have her now.”
“Why wasn’t she on the list?”
“Because it was only today that her father had his tragic accident.” She looked at Hannah as she spoke, as if daring her to reveal the truth. But judging by the suspicious look on Dr. Konstantin’s face, Hannah didn’t need to say anything.
“Far too many accidents happen in your camp, Esme.”
Hannah knelt down and reached for the girl. “Come here, honey. Come to me.” The little girl reluctantly crept out from behind Esme. She was dressed in an R2-D2 T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans that were clearly too big for her, rolled up at the ankles so she wouldn’t trip on the cuffs. A mop of orange curls sprang from her head in every direction. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Abby.”
“Abby, that’s pretty.” Hannah smiled. “I’m Hannah, and this is Noah.”
She looked sullenly at the baby and wiped her nose. “Where’s my daddy?”
Hannah shot a look at Esme, who simply stood there looking bored. Konstantin crouched beside them. “Where’s your mommy?”
“In Heaven with Meemaw and Jesus.”
Konstantin glanced briefly at Hannah. She thought she saw genuine pity in his eyes. He put a hand on Abby’s shoulder. “Your daddy needed to go be with your mommy in Heaven. But we’re going to take care of you, okay?”
She nodded, and then pulled her shirt up over her head to hide her face. A high pitched wail came from underneath the shirt.
Konstantin pulled the little girl into his arms. “It’s going to be all right,” he said, standing up with her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and clung to him. He stared daggers at Esme. “Try not to make any more orphans before I return.”
“That will be easier to manage with you gone.” Esme cast another contemptuous glance at Hannah before turning on her heel and leaving them.
Konstantin watched her go. Then he turned to Hannah. “Do you need me to hold the baby while you strap in?”
“I’ve got it.” But she didn’t move. What would happen to them if they got on that helicopter? Would they be flying to an even worse horror show than the one they were leaving?
Trust me, the doctor kept telling her. So far he hadn’t done anything to show that he couldn’t be trusted, but he hadn’t exactly demonstrated that he could, either. Except he said he’d get you Noah, and he did.
This was the moment of truth, then, that would shine the light on the doctor’s true intentions. Sometimes moments of truth required leaps of faith.
She had to be crazy to put any amount of faith in one of these creatures. But did she have a choice? If she stayed, Esme would almost certainly kill her and Noah, and probably not in that order.
Hannah climbed into the helicopter.
Another vampire sat in the pilot’s seat. He nodded to her as she scooted across the back row of seats. She settled Noah in her lap and strapped herself in while Konstantin buckled Abby into the seat beside her.
He climbed into the front seat and shut them all inside. “Get us out of here.”
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