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An armed guard let me into a small gray room, nearly identical to the one I’d spent over a week of my life in, and the door locked behind me. A metal chair sat in the center of the room, over a metal grate, and a black shape was huddled in one corner, just out of the reach of the single bulb lighting the space.
“Good evening, Doctor. ”
I crossed the space from the door to the chair and took a seat, facing the wall instead of the stooped figure.
“How’s your chest?” I placed my katana blade down on the floor, holding the hilt between my palms. It was still encased in its glossy black scabbard, so for the time being it was more an object of beauty than an outright threat.
Once I took it out, I wouldn’t be putting it away again until the blade had tasted blood.
A fae once told me I’d tainted the sword by killing vampires with it. I wasn’t sure if that meant the sword was now touched by evil somehow, but at the moment I didn’t care. If my katana wanted to kill, it was only because it stole the desire from me.
Right now I wanted to kill a human worse than I’d ever wanted anything in my whole life.
“I asked you a question. ”
The form shifted, and The Doctor pushed a thin wool blanket off his head, allowing me to see his face for the first time. He’d lost some weight since I’d last seen him, but not enough to make him look unhealthy. He’d grown a short gray beard, and his hair was unruly, but apart from that he was the same striking figure he’d once been.
“I lack your speed for healing,” he replied. “A shame, really. ”
“Tragic. ”
“You’re looking lovely, my dear. No worse for the wear, it seems. ”
I choked out a laugh. No worse for the wear? “There are some things even a monster can’t heal. ”
He shrugged, pushing the blanket off entirely. “I don’t put much stock in psychology. ”
“That’s too bad. You’d be a therapist’s wet dream. ” I lifted my sword into my lap, stroking my hands down the smooth case. “In all your time studying my kind, did anyone ever tell you how a vampire is punished for being naughty?”
He shook his head, but I’d clearly piqued his interest. Even in here, two feet away from a woman with a sword, he was obsessed with his quest to understand. If his single-minded focus had belonged to anyone other than a sociopath, the things he could have learned would have been remarkable.
“How?” he asked.
“A vampire is chained up in a tiny room. You must know by now silver works best for that sort of thing. ”
He nodded.
“Then they are starved. They’re starved for decades. Sometimes for centuries. They are left in the dark, chained to the wall, until they are little more than skeletons, but all the while the brain still works. They can still think. Reason often vanishes, but thought remains. ”
I slipped the blade free from its enclosure and let the scabbard clatter to the floor. The dim light from the overhead bulb glinted off the sharp edge, making the gold dragon inlay glow like firelight.
“Not much different from human prison in some ways. Left alone with your thoughts for an eternity. ” I got out of my chair and dragged the blade behind me, the metal kicking up sparks against the concrete floor, a high-pitched wail echoing off the walls. His attention was on the weapon now, losing interest in my story.
“I’m guessing you talked to a lot of people over the last week. I’m even willing to bet some of those people made you promises, didn’t they? Did they promise you a cushy minimum-security prison? Maybe Witness Protection?”
His gaze flicked from the sword to my face, and I knew he’d been promised the world.
“They were lying to you. They were your judge and jury. Do you know what that makes m
e?”
“Executioner,” he whispered, attention shifting back to the sword.
“Executioner,” I replied, placing the blade in front of his face so he could get a good eyeful. “There’s one thing I wanted to tell you first, though. ”
“Yes?” He licked his lips and looked up at me.
“Twenty-one hours. ”
