Page 147 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

There was no tenderness in his touch. It was meant to display dominance.

But Amelia didn’t believe the act. “How long is this going to last?”

“Are you in a hurry to leave me, Amelia?” His finger ran down the curve of her neck. “But I had other plans… Especially after your little tease the other night.”

She refused to cower under his intent gaze. “So you’re no longer mad about me ‘influencing you,’ like you said last time?”

His finger froze in its movement, resting at the top of her collarbone. In a smooth tone, like a snake preparing to hypnotise its prey, he said, “Oh no, little beast. You can influence me all you like.”

She hated the mask he was putting on. The way he was taking a warm memory between them, and reducing it to nothing but imagined lies and betrayals. She’d meant every single act, every single kiss, but there was no way to make him understand – let alone believe her.

Grasping at straws, Amelia tried to shift the conversation. “Even if I’d told you about the visions, you couldn’t have saved the Oracle.”

Mikhail hummed, then squeezed her shoulder and drew her towards him. His closeness aroused her senses in a potent mix of fear and longing. Amelia raised her head, hoping to meet the familiar glimmer in his eyes, but only ice greeted her.

“This is a thing of the past that shall not be discussed anymore,” he said in an even tone. His gaze lingered on her lips and Amelia thought he might kiss her. “You decided your secrets weren’t worth sharing. I’m not mad. Besides”—he spun her around—“you’ll have plenty of opportunities to make it up to me.”

Amelia tried to step away, but Mikhail wrapped his strong arm around her waist and pulled her against him until her back pressed against his front. His body engulfed hers and evoked memories of their intimacy.

He leaned down and nuzzled her neck. “You’ve dreamt of me. You know what I do with traitors,” he whispered in her ear.

Amelia wanted to turn around and face him, but his grip was solid. “I’m no traitor,” she said.

“Not yet. You haven’t lived long enough. Now you know loss and suffering. It is only a matter of time before your actions become fuelled by hatred. And hatred births liars and traitors. Murderers – like me.” He pressed his body tighter against hers, letting her feel his arousal. “You’ll say you’re not capable of such things? That you’re innocent? We’re all born innocent; it’s only a matter of how long one’s innocence can last.”

Her heart raced. “I’m not Valeria, Mikhail. Don’t punish me for another’s sins.” Amelia gasped for air, shivering as his warm breath caressed her skin.

He released his hold on her torso just enough so she could breathe normally again. “Valeria was immortal. I was in love with her, I made plans for a future with her. You’re just a girl I wouldn’t give a second glance to if the circumstances were any different.” He placed his palm in the middle of her back and pushed her forward, forcing her to lean over. “Do not mistake my passion for something else, Amelia. This thing between us is only a primal instinct you provoked. Despite my warnings.”

Mikhail’s fingers moved up and down her spine, as if studying her vertebrae. His hand crept underneath the hem of her shirt, and she hated the warmth that spread through her.

He laughed, dark and bitter. “Do you know what Valeria’s last words were? ‘I’m sorry, I wish I could turn back time.’ I didn’t believe her then, and I don’t believe her now after two hundred years, either. Her actions were not the result of a single, reckless mistake. It was all a calculated, ruthless scheme to ruin me and everyone I cared for. Taking her life was one of the easiest decisions I ever made in my life.” He quit playing with her shirt and moved his hand to her right thigh. His fingers dug into the material of her pants.

“I’m not her…” Amelia whispered, even as she bowed her head, surrendering to his touch.

The fingers around her thigh relaxed. Seconds later, the hand on her waist released her, and an influx of air filled her lungs at her newfound freedom. She straightened and rotated to look Mikhail straight in the eye. His face was like marble, but a cavalcade of colours danced in his eyes.

“I’ve left you food and water in the other room. And a notebook to note down your visions – including the one you just had. Don’t forget, I always know if you’re hiding something. I knew the last time too, but, fool that I am, I underestimated you. However, I’m not making that mistake again. After all, a creature can only lie for as long as it’s allowed to do so. Isn’t that right?”

Amelia kept quiet. Until this point, she had believed that Mikhail had found a way to use the negative emotions – leftovers from his past traumas – as fuel for his life-saving mission. She had believed this with all her soul, despite having witnessed first-hand his unconventional methods. Even with her kidnapping and his ruthless demeanour, she had trusted that he was using his suffering to mould his hatred into something positive. In truth, it was probably what had drawn her to him more and more, with every day spent in his company.

At last, she faced the ugly reality. He hadn’t turned the darkness into light. His destructive emotions were very much still present, but hidden beneath the surface, concealed by his work at the Hospital. Yet their presence meant that at any hint of provocation from anyone, those same dark emotions would rise and take over him – as she had just seen.

Mikhail might be right, after all. Hatred birthed only liars, traitors and murderers, not anything good.

Amelia made her way to the window and stood, facing away from him. On the outside, she seemed calm, even though a storm was brewing inside her.

After a moment, the door closed behind him.

47

Diana leaned back in the spinning lab chair, watching closely while the peculiar fellow with the Werewolf T-shirt studied the vial. His name was Viktor Volk, Constantine had informed her, but Diana would always remember him as the lycanthrope who had saved their lives in the caves in Alberobello. His transformation had left some obvious side effects. At least, that was how the necromancer had explained his odd behaviour during the meeting. It was probably also why there was tension between him and Mikhail Korovin. Diana had no interest in their drama, as long as it didn’t stop her from getting answers.

Viktor removed the lid of the vial, smelt the yellowish-green substance inside and wrinkled his nose. Diana held back a smile. It stank horribly and she already knew that, but since he’d wanted to try…

He lifted it in front of his eyes and inspected it. His eyebrows almost met. He was cute, to some extent.

“Where did you say you got this from?”

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