Page 94 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

“I’m sorry for Mary, believe me, but I was finally seeing a way to be with Daniel, for real, and not just behind someone’s back. I knew that if I told you about his relationship with Mary, you’d chase after him and I didn’t want to cause him trouble. Nobody knew about their relationship anyway.”

“And you never thought, even for a second, that Daniel could have killed Mary?”

“No. He’s not a murderer.”

“But you didn’t think he’d disappear, either?”

“I was hoping he would come to me…” she whispered.

Mikhail stood, unsure if the information he had just received was useful. This story seemed to tighten up, adding more players and more questions in the game, each one leading to yet another dead end.

Zacharia was waiting for him, leaning against the hallway wall and playing a game on his phone.

“Lock them up together somewhere for now. I believe they have issues to discuss,” Mikhail instructed. “Let the Tribunal think they escaped. When that happens, the agents will believe they’re guilty. Then I’ll announce it to the Council.”

Zacharia lifted his blue eyes from the screen. “Why did we call the Tribunal in the first place, if we’re giving them red herrings?”

“We had to. News of the chambermaid’s murder was already spreading. I couldn’t hide Kaliope’s death for much longer, either. Her absence from the Council would not have remained unnoticed. As I said, I’m hoping the Tribunal’s presence disconcerts the culprit and forces him to make a mistake.”

“The culprit? I thought the witch’s head was delivered by that vampire’s brother. The one who showed up in Italy?”

“I’m beginning to suspect that he had inside help. Somebody well acquainted with the Hospital, the Council, the schedule of the staff…”

“You know who?”

“I know it’s not Dara and her lover boy. But there’s something I still can’t work out. What was that secret job that would make Mary Clare rich?”

Zacharia scored a point in his game. “Daniel said I should ask you. He obviously figured out it was related to Mary chambermaiding a human.”

“Exactly,” Mikhail said. “Which makes even less sense. I’m aware how much I pay my staff and I’m certain nobody can expect to get rich from it…”

30

Once, her mother had caught Amelia wearing her favourite heels in front of the mirror, pretending to be her, with one of her dresses and her lipstick on. “Don’t rush to become a woman. That day will come sooner than you think, and you’ll stay that way for the rest of your life,” the older woman had told her.

Later that day, her father had gifted her a giant teddy bear. Amelia had fallen in love with it and carried it around everywhere… Until she’d turned thirteen years old and the bear was dumped in a corner because her heart no longer belonged to it. Amelia had given it to Anton, the boy next door. When she’d caught him holding hands with another girl mere weeks later, her heart had ached. For two hours.

When Amelia had broken her mother’s favourite perfume into a million small pieces and thrown the blame on her two-year-old brother, she had been proud of her trickery. But the moment her mother had scolded the innocent Sammy, Amelia’s guilt had eaten her up. She had confessed, ashamed of herself and, when her wrongdoings had been forgiven, it had been like true bliss.

After the loss of her family, she’d had nothing. As if someone had taken away the part of her brain responsible for the emotions and memories she had of them.

Now, everything was different.

She remembered.

She hadn’t realised how much this place affected her, until her encounter with Mikhail earlier. Overwhelmed by the sight of his scars, she had remained on the edge of her bed for what felt like forever.

She remembered why, in the years after her family’s death, she had started waking up at 6 a.m., running every day at the park, excelling in med school, taking double shifts at the hospital, and never allowing herself any fun. It was because of the heart-wrenching guilt that had been living inside her. Her family had died, and she had survived. So she had been obliged to prove that she was worthy of living.

Suddenly, she couldn’t sit still anymore. She needed to move – maybe even to see Mikhail.

Amelia paced into the hallway, but not a single sound hinted at the presence of anyone else around. Striding past numerous doors, she opened one after another, stumbling upon empty rooms. Some were more spacious, others had en suite bathrooms, and the rest resembled small storage spaces – but all of them smelt of desolation.

Only three rooms had hints of being lived in. One was hers. Next to it, she found a cosy study, and further down the hallway, there was a room with a king-sized bed, a wardrobe and a wooden desk. The walls were white, with no paintings, no flowers or decorations in the corners, and no personal belongings.

Amelia approached the wardrobe and opened it. Inside were clothes, shoes and underwear. She immediately closed it, as if it would bite her. This was his room. She went through a door next to the wardrobe and found herself in the bathroom she had seen him in earlier, cleaning up his wounds. The blood and dirty pieces of gauze were still scattered all over the floor and sink. She exited the bathroom through another door leading to the corridor.

Amelia headed to the lobby, which was visible under the arch at the far end of the hallway. Like all other floors of the building she had been to, this one was made up of two wings, but her access to the other one was blocked by a massive, locked door.

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