Page 126 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

“I forbid it.”

“You can’t.”

Stop whining about this insignificant parasite, you weak loser.

Viktor dug his hands into his black hair, feeling the urge to rip it out. “All right, let’s at least discuss this.”

“Maybe later.” Alex started for the door with the stupid book in her hands.

Say goodbye to the little pup…

Viktor stared after her in disbelief. Was it possible that she had changed so much right under his nose?

It’s not her, you fool. It’s you…

***

Alex didn’t mean to be so harsh with Viktor, but he had provoked her again without even realising it! He had spent the night in the city, with humans. The stink of them was all over him. And this, after he’d been ranting for years about why relationships with humans were a bad idea for immortals. What a hypocrite!

She slammed the door of her room and threw the book on the bed. She had believed that Viktor would be interested in what she had to say, but it had been only boredom in his features. He would never stop patronising and underestimating her.

Her fingers caressed the black cover and she flipped open the book. She didn’t know this C., but she had already formed a special bond with him. C. was decisive, and passionate and clearly had some unsolved issues with his father, according to some of the references he made on occasion, in which Alex could easily recognise herself.

C. was intelligent, an erudite. She loved the way he described his romantic feelings for the human woman he had not succeeded in making immortal. Years later, he had fallen in love with a witch, Violet, whom he’d loved more than anything.

Alex sighed. Would she ever find a man as passionate as the author of this book? Was C. still alive?

She pursed her lips. The book had no ending. The last entries, from fifteen hundred years ago, focused entirely on reptilians. C. claimed he was close to destroying them forever, but the absence of further records suggested he had met his end instead. Fortunately, it seemed someone else had finished the job, as no trace of such a species existed today.

Alex remembered Viktor’s mockery when she mentioned the eighth kind. He hadn’t even thought it over! Viktor had always believed there was nothing in this world he didn’t already know.

Well, there’s one thing he doesn’t know, she reminded herself and grinned.

Part III

41

Mikhail placed Dave in the same intensive care unit as his mother. Although her condition hadn’t changed in years, the first thing that came out of Dave’s mouth when he woke was “How’s Mum?” It was clear the boy had a dire need to be close to her, and far be it for Mikhail to deprive him of that, especially after what he had been through.

On Mikhail’s orders, Zacharia’s men guarded Dave’s door; they had strict orders not to let anyone through except for those few taking care of Dave. Dozens of creatures who had befriended the boy through the years voiced their disappointment that they couldn’t bring him flowers, toys, treats, and other presents, let alone wish him a swift recovery. Mikhail eventually agreed to allow Dave’s friends to leave their gifts for him at the door, but he instructed the guards to verify the contents of each one before passing them on to the boy. He also asked them to create a list of all the creatures who dropped by for a visit.

Mikhail waited a day before visiting him. When he strolled down the corridor, he wondered at the audacity some fucker had had to paint the doors a bright green. They had also decorated the hall in various shades of green to “bring a sense of life and brightness” to the place. Such a paradox, when most of the residents behind those doors were attached to life support equipment. Then he remembered that fucker was none other than himself, and his mouth twisted in a crooked smile devoid of joy.

A vampire stood guard before Dave’s door, unarmed but far more dangerous than a man with a gun. Mikhail greeted him and moved closer to the door.

The guard growled, stopping him in his tracks. “He’s not alone.”

Mikhail arched an eyebrow, unable to contain his surprise. “Who’s with him?”

The vampire’s face twisted. “An agent of the Tribunal. He threatened to arrest me if I interfered with his interrogation. Insisted I stay outside.”

Mikhail burst through the door. Agent Kane’s grey wolfish eyes met his. The man had positioned himself in a chair beside Dave’s bed, meticulously writing notes in his little black notebook. Beside his authoritative figure, the boy had curled up into a trembling ball under the covers, eyes wide with terror.

“Hello, Mr. Korovin.” The faux politeness in the agent’s voice was palpable.

That obnoxious bastard of an agent was crossing lines, ignoring his rules, and threatening Mikhail’s guards – in his own building, no less.

Mikhail’s heartbeat drummed in his ears as if counting down the seconds until his patience would dissipate. He stared the agent down. Despite his lycanthropic immortality, Kane had a sickly appearance – pale yellow-grey skin, deep wrinkles at his temples, and a crooked, colourless line that barely resembled a mouth. A huge, bulging vein throbbed on the right side of his forehead, just beneath the hairline.

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