Page 85 of A Steeping of Blood
Shaw turned in the direction of the Ripper room. The hall widened to the intersection from Matteo’s sketches that led in four directions. Arthie glanced up to where the massive chandelier hung in almost comical contrast to the dim, forlorn cells.
Bloodworth strode behind them, and though she’d kept a close eye on him, he’d given no indication as to where he kept the key to the vault-like door. Calibore pressed against her side, and when she glanced at Matteo, he gave the pistol a pointed glance too, reminding her that there was another way out of here.
Shaw reached the doors to the Ripper room, and with a grim glance at Jin, Arthie, and Matteo, he unlatched the doors and pushed them open.
Arthie froze.
If she thought the rest of the sanatorium was eerie, compared to this, it was not. The air sent a deathly chill down her spine. As with the rest of the place, it was dimly lit, except for the glowing blue pill-shaped cylinders lining the room in rows, slanted at an angle, a faint light within pulsing as if in time to a heartbeat. Arthie counted seven.
Inside each of the seven canisters was a body.
“Are they alive?” Jin whispered.
“Yes,” Shaw said, just as hushed.
“I’ll be hanged,” Bloodworth exclaimed. “Every time I come in here, it’s a feat to behold.”
The canisters were filled with some sort of fluid, and because of the angled position, the heads of the bodies within weren’t submerged. They were almost entirely naked, with flesh that looked to be carved from stone.
“Vampires,” Arthie murmured. Of course they were vampires.
“Ripper vampires,” Bloodworth corrected.
“What are you doing to them?” Matteo asked, a frenzy in his voice.
“The Siwangs truly are the best of the best,” Bloodworth touted.
Two guards stood on either side of the door. On theinside, and Arthie had a sinking feeling they weren’t there to protect the caged vampires.
“They are no doubt brilliant, no? When the Ram asked for better, they provided. Starved vampires are an ingenious, brilliant utilization, but why settle for what’s available, when you have minds such as theirs? Thus, their brilliant creation: the Ripper. An unassailable foe. I named them myself, in memory of one of my old colleagues who was ripped to shreds,” Bloodworth continued.
Arthie wished she loved anything as much as this man loved to saybrilliant.
“Creation?” Jin hissed at his father. The use of the word sounded no different from when the captain had referred to him asit.
Shaw’s perfect composure cracked then. He shuffled from foot to foot.
Bloodworth, conversely, couldn’t contain his glee. “Indeed. A newly developed serum that produces a specialized breed of super vampires.”
“No,” Shaw said.
A silence slithered into the room, as anxious as Shaw. Bloodworth’s brow furrowed, the color draining from his face, and Arthie was surprised by the power he held over Shaw. Why else did a simple word cause such unease?
“What did you say?” Bloodworth asked.
Shaw stepped closer, not to his so-called creations, not to Bloodworth, but to Jin. “I said no.”
“No, what, Shaw? No, you are not the best of the best? Or no, you did not create a specialized breed of vampires?”
“No, there is no serum.”
Bloodworth looked confused, glancing at the canisters lining the room. The “specialized breed” was standing—floating—before them.
“Am I imagining them?” he asked.
Jin drew in a sharp breath. “The long-lasting effects of the silver—when you said it was unknown, I knew there was more you weren’t telling me.”
Arthie was beginning to piece together what the Siwangs had told them since they’d met: their guilt, Sora and his need to remain with the vampires despite the opportunities for escape, the daily visits to the cells for necessary administrations.
