Page 37 of Dark Night of the Soul

“Walk with me.”

He motioned toward the door. I had no choice but to follow him. He was trying to unnerve me, but I had decided when I fell instep beside him, he wasn’t going to intimidate me.

The hallway was cold with stone walls that seemed to go on forever. I could tell from the smoothness of the stone it was ancient. I’d been in enough old churches and castles to recognize this was no modern structure.

We turned left down another corridor that led to a set of double doors that did look modern, which alarmed me. I didn’t like where this was going.

Through the doors, this felt like a different wing. Newer. Sterile. With the hint of a medicinal smell I recognized. I used to work in a hospital. I knew what they smelled like, felt like. The overhead lights were bright and unforgiving. And, despite my bravado, trepidation sizzled under my skin.

He took me down the hallway, turned another corner, and there was what appeared to be an office door. He didn’t even knock as he pushed it open and stood aside for me to enter.

Inside, another office. This one more elaborate, more functional, with whitewashed walls. A bearded man with silver hair sat behind an executive desk, his head down as he made notes in a small book. A computer sat on the desk. A pile of paper to one side. Behind him on the wall a large diploma that boasted a fancy degree.

The floor was low-pile carpet that muffled our footsteps as we entered. In front of the desk, two plush club chairs inviting guests to sit and stay awhile. On one side, a liquor cart. On the other side, a bookshelf full of what appeared to be medical journals.

When we entered, the man looked up, clicked off his pen and sat back in his chair. His dark gaze instantly met mine and something about that sent a chill right up my spine.

“Ah, you brought her,” he said. “Good.”

He had a hint of an accent I couldn’t place. Not German. Not Austrian. Something in between.

“Anna, this is Dr. Vormund. You two are going to be spending a lot of time together,” Sebastian said.

My hands curled into fists, my nails biting into my palm. “Are we?”

Dr. Vormund rose from the desk and walked around it. He looked like anyone else. Silver hair. Aged face with the right amount of laugh lines around the eyes. A perfectly trimmed salt and pepper beard. He wore a button-down shirt in a pale blue tucked into black pants. No tie. His shoes were shiny. As though he’d polished them that day. His cologne wafted toward me. Something old and dark.

“She doesn’t look dangerous,” he said.

Sebastian smiled faintly. “Neither does the match that burns a city.” He turned back to me, then. “Dr. Vormund leads the Knights of the Holy Lance.”

He said this as if it were something I should already know.

My gaze flicked from Sebastian to the doctor. That couldn’t be true. The leader was someone named Schneider, and I’d killed him in Istanbul.

The Knights were solely responsible for butchering my mother’s mind—making her into a super dream walker killing machine.

“I see you have questions,” Vormund said. “Please feel free to ask.”

I didn’t speak.

When I didn’t, he continued. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you? Destroying labs and trying to obliterate us.”

My eyes narrowed. He knew I’d taken out the labs—one in Antarctica and one in Taipei. I thought that would stop them and their horrendous experiments. I’d misjudged them.

“I hope you understand, though, Miss Walker, you’re not here to be punished,” he said.

“That’s comforting,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected.

He gave me a thin-lipped smile, as if that was amusing.

Sebastian leaned closer to me then. “You’re a liability,” he said, his breath brushing my ear. “But you’ll soon be an asset.”

I cut him a glance, then looked back to Vormund. “So,” I said, casually, “you don’t need me compliant. You need me useful.”

“Ah, she understands,” Vormund said to Sebastian, sounding pleased. “This is good. When can we prep her?”

I didn’t like the sound of that. “Prep me?”