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"You were able to end it and you're still alive?" Reynolds raises his eyebrows. "That's a surprise. Vampires are used to absolute control. They call the shots, not mortals, and they use their powers to get compliance."
"I'm the exception to the rule. I can't be compelled. I'm still alive because he needs my help." I sigh, wanting to change the subject. "As to his hurting you when he found out you were in the program? Can you blame him? I mean, seriously? They not only turned him into a daywalking vampire, they used him for their dirty work and then tried to destroy him when he became a liability."
"I don't blame him at all. Not one bit,” Reynolds says. “I've always figured the program would come back to haunt us. The powers that be thought they could control these vampires, thought they had it all figured out. But you don't give predators free rein, knowledge of military ops, clandestine procedures and weapons and expect to control them. Pride goeth before a fall, as the saying goes."
Reynolds downloads and prints off a half-dozen research papers that are classified and that detail procedures used in Operation Black Knight, as it was called. I look at the insignia at the top of some correspondence Reynolds shows me and think about the Lorraine Cross tattoo on Julien's neck.
After Reynolds leaves with one of Julien's other employees, I sit in the seating area and read the papers, one after the other, studying the methods, the materials, and wonder how to replicate any of it. It's far beyond anything I've done in my labs in university, although I'm able to grasp the basic science. If the Council really wants to do this, they'll have to set up an ultra-modern lab and hire professionals.
I make notes in a lab notebook I asked Vasily to buy for me, and try to think of all the technology and equipment such a lab would need. Some of this is very advanced. There are some less technological things they could do in the short term – to depress a vampire's immune system, to allow them to daywalk – but if they really want to replicate what the military did to vampires like Julien, they really need more of that drug they gave him to start. The nanotech.
As I dig deeper into the research papers Reynolds found, I realize the military scientists hadn't altered his genes permanently – they either suppressed the action of the defective genes on a temporary basis or activated others on a temporary basis. The plan was to implant slow-release nanoparticles that would keep a steady level of drug in the vampire's blood, withdrawing treatment if they felt a need for whatever tactical reasons. They'd get boosters every six months, to ensure that a certain level of drug remained in their blood. They could withdraw treatment if the vampires failed to cooperate. Julien must have stopped working for them within the past six months if he’s still able to daywalk.
The Council has the money, apparently, to afford to build a lab for this. What they lacked was the knowledge of how to deliver the gene therapy agent. I figure for the right amount of money, they could probably convince some researchers to do the necessary lab work. It could be done. The work absorbs me for the rest of the evening. It's well beyond my pay grade, but I give it a shot. If I'm not going to be Julien's little pet, I have to do something of value. Besides, this is what my mother did. In doing this, at least I'm following in her footsteps, which is what I wanted from the start.
Except there’s one little complication. I don’t have Michel. But I have Julien walking around me, looking almost identical to him, looking at me like I’m a piece of meat he can’t wait to eat. I can practically feel his lust for me from a distance and it’s distracting.
It’s arousing.
Chapter 9
“If you wish to be loved, show more of your faults than your virtues.”
Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton
Later that afternoon, Julien arrives and takes off his trench coat, hanging it on the coat tree by the door. He's in his casual clothes, a pair of faded jeans and a long white linen shirt open at the collar. Reynolds is with him. He speaks with Vasily and then comes over to where I'm seated, working on my summary of the literature.
"The Colonel reports you two had some luck today. We're going downstairs to celebrate a bit."
I look at him, wondering why he's including me. Probably just to rub it into me how wrong I've been about Kate.
"I probably should keep working. I don't know if it would be good for me to go down there, considering."
"Considering that Kate will be there? No, it would be a good thing. I insist."
I shake my head, already feeling my gut knot at the idea of having to meet her again. "I think I'd be bad company."
"Humor me, Eve. Considering what trouble you caused me over this, I think a little penance is in order."
I sigh. "Why not just give me a hair shirt to wear."
"Nah," he says and smiles. "This will be much more fun."
I relent with extreme reluctance and follow him back to the door, where Vasily and Reynolds stand.
Down in the fourth-floor apartment, Kate is waiting for us. I'm surprised to see her dressed, although her clothes hardly cover her. She's wearing a tiny black muscle shirt that shows how thin she is, her ribs sticking out, her breasts small, her hip bones sharp angles, visible from beneath a short jean skirt. She looks like some kind of sick punker, with her dark hair in a mess, dark circles under her eyes.
"Hey, where the fuck have you been? You got my stuff? I'm sick." She coughs, the sound so wet and raspy that I think she must have pneumonia.
"Yes, love, never fear," Julien says. "I have your stuff. Go get your kit. It's party time."
Kate goes over to the kitchen and returns with a small leather case.
"Come in, friends," Julien said, his voice ebullient, "and have a seat while my brother's dear angel Kate gives herself a little taste of heaven." He sits on one of the couches and Kate sits next to him.
"Who the fuck are you talking about?" Kate says, frowning. "Jesus, quit with the theatrics. And who are these people?" She barely glances at Reynolds and me, before grabbing the package of powder Julien takes out of his pocket, almost shoving him out of the way in her haste to spread out her drug paraphernalia.
"Just some acquaintances of Michel's. Sit!" Julien says, pointing to the couch across from him. Reynolds looks at me with wide eyes and complies, sitting down across from Julien. I sit next to Reynolds.
