Page 23 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

“But, boss…” Idiot Two scratched his forehead. “How did it just materialise out of thin air?”

“Clearly, it didn’t.”

Idiot Two’s face suggested that the wheels in his head were turning. But then he must have remembered something about a new porn movie, because he gave up on the thought and forgot about the box.

Zacharia’s ice-blue eyes scanned the courtyard, making sure nobody else was around. Thunder pierced through the air. The wind compelled the leaves in the tree crowns to dance and swirl.

He headed further into the yard, under a giant oak that should have shielded him from the downpour. Nonetheless, his black pants and leather jacket were soon soaking wet. Water dripped down his face, plastering his hair to his forehead.

He enjoyed a good storm. The loud noise always offered protection from prying ears. After all, he had no idea what might jump out of the fucking box once he opened it, so he appreciated any sort of cover.

He clasped the metal ring, lifting the top. The disgusting smell of decomposing skin filled his nostrils, as if he was entering the Hospital’s autopsy room. At the bottom of the box, something black twisted in bundles that could be confused with wrinkled fabric. When Zacharia wrapped his fingers around it, his suspicion was confirmed – it was hair, matted with dry blood. He tugged on the strands, and the decapitated head was next to come up. Lightning struck at that moment and allowed him to examine it closer. Black lipstick still covered the frozen lips. He lifted it higher, observing the immaculate incision running through the neck.

Zacharia knew who the head belonged to, of course. Kaliope Gazis. A clever, powerful witch, with centuries of experience, a direct approach, and a genuine concern for the wellbeing of her fellow witches. A member of the Council of the Twenty. He had seen her yesterday in the Hospital, before the evening meeting.

Zacharia wasn’t a forensic doctor, but he had smelled enough death in his life to be pretty sure she’d died no more than twenty hours ago. Possibly right after she’d left the building, following the Council meeting.

Not all too unusual… The smell made him wince. Every ancient creature was bound to have accumulated enemies throughout the years, and the Changes provided a very good opportunity for revenge. Obviously, someone got fed up with Kaliope.

He inspected the box, gliding his hand over the insides of the walls.

On reflection, that clean cut would have carried her off before 1744. No creature had been known to regenerate a whole head, even when immortals had had their full potential.

Something wasn’t adding up.

Zacharia placed the box on the grass and grabbed the rain-soaked head to hide it back inside. As he held the lid, he turned it upside down.

Thousand fucking devils!

His blue eyes stared at the few jagged letters written with blood. The rain was pouring over them, spilling the blood and creating little red streams down the wooden surface. He read the inscription before it washed away:

YOU’RE DONE.

This was a warning, then.

No. Not a warning. If someone wanted to make a statement, they could have just slaughtered one of the Three Idiots at the main gate. At the thought of their stupid faces, he recalled their claim that the box had materialised out of thin air. If that was the case, then they were dealing with a perpetrator who was into theatrics. Mysterious manifestation, chopped off head, bloody letters…

Korovin was going to love this.

Zacharia closed the box tight and called Mikhail, but the manticore declined his call.

I guess you’ll be sleeping in my room for now.

Zacharia took the box under one arm and headed towards the building. Wherever the rest of her body was now, the witch was surely twisting and turning with affliction at the thought of her head spending the night in a room with a hybrid.

His nostrils caught the smell wafting out of the box. Well, the joke was on him, he supposed.

10

Raindrops hammered against the window as forceful as the pounding of Amelia’s heart. Deafening thunder struck nearby, reminding her that the Earth was still spinning.

Run!

Her body wouldn’t oblige.

There was a set of keys underneath her right shoe. The beast had been too distracted by the horror on her face to notice the tiny movement of her foot concealing them.

Too bad she was too afraid to do something now that she had them.

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