Page 270 of Golden Eagle

“The problem with the Absent Ones is that Romulus’s blood is tainted; he can’t create an heir – not one that’s whole, and lasting, and intelligent. There must be something wrong with the blood. But if we take the blood of especially gifted vampires…”

Whatever he said next was lost as Alexei was hit with another wave of dizziness. His eyes closed, and he nearly lost hold.

When he blinked again, Gustav was saying, “Rasputin would have been a prize, but we have the next best thing, in you. You were my idea, but you didn’t cooperate…”

Black spots crowded his vision. When it cleared, he’d turned his head. The vampire doctor was pulling out the needle, but he didn’t put a bandage over the leaking vein. Blood ran hot down his arm, dripped off his wrist, while the vampire dropped both bags into a cooler and snapped a lid on; picked it up and walked around behind Alexei’s head, out of sight.

“Goodbye, Your Majesty,” Gustav said.

It took an age to roll his head the other way, and Gustav was giving him a little salute, his wolves – Hannah and Carey – flanking him. “Perhaps you’ll already be asleep before they tear you to pieces.” Then he was gone.

~*~

Hastings herded Severin into the room with a sigh much too deep and explosive to have been simple relief. The orderlies crowded in after them, and one pulled the door firmly shut and locked it.

He hadn’t expected for anyone to want to lock themselves in with him, not when they were this scared.

Unless…

Hewasn’t the thing they were afraid of.

He kept thinking about Alexei’s boots going around the corner. The way he and Dante had looked curled together on the floor, exposed, unprotected.

“Seven!” a small, excited voice shouted, and he looked at his brothers.

Eighteen sat up in the bed, his red hair – straight and very fine – sticking up in wild tufts. He bounced up and down, grinning, unable to contain his excitement, a display that would earn a sharp reprimand. “Seven, you came back!”

Twelve was fifteen-years-old, and had begun to shun such childish displays; Seven –Severin– suspected it had something to do with the recreational films they’d tentatively been allowed to watch, Twelve mimicking the teenagers he saw there: aloof, unbothered, and admired by those around them.

Both boys would need names, Severin thought. Proper names instead of numbers.

Your sister’s name is Red.

“Where were you?” Twelve asked. “They said you were kidnapped.”

“I wasn’t,” Severin said. “I left on my own. Because I wanted to.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Dr. Hastings said with a very obviously forced laugh. She crossed the room and sat down on the room’s one stool, a wheeled one that sat in front of the blank white desk that the three of them only ever used to break up the monotony of sitting or lying on one of the beds. They had no paper, no pens, no books here. No way to work or study. Here in their prison. “Those bad vampires lured your brother away,” she told the younger two. “But he’s back now, and the vampires are going to be taken care of.”

He snapped a glare at her that caused her to recoil. A hand went to her throat, and he wondered if she knew she’d done so. “What does that mean? Taken care of?”

She breathed out another fake laugh. This one shivered. “Nothing for you to worry about, Seven–”

“Severin. My name’s Severin.”

“Oh, God,” she said, quietly, on a gasp.

He turned to his brothers. “I left because I wanted to, and I made friends. It’s different out there, on the outside. It’s better.”

Twelve frowned, all skepticism – save his eyes, which sparked with wild curiosity. “It’s not safe on the outside.”

He thought about Gustav and Alexei facing off from one another in an empty lot, about wolves rushing at him, attacking. No, it wasn’t safe. But nowhere was. He would try to explain the distinction later, when they were gone.

Eighteen had few reservations, being only six. “What’s it like?” He was still bouncing on his knees.

“It’s…loud. And bright. So many colors. And everyone wears so many different kinds of clothes. And there are so many smells. And…” He couldn’t do it justice. “It’salive,” he finished, feeling like even that was insufficient.

But Twelve’s eyes popped wide.

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