Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Vincent opened the door with the ancient key and held it for Summer. She followed him through a maze of service corridors she’d never suspected existed. He moved rapidly, but as silent as any vampire.
“This is the maintenance access to New Orleans’ underground,” he said over his shoulder. “It’s a network of tunnels dating from Prohibition smuggling to and now works for modern utility management.
“The facility Le Sang connects to is just a processing center,” Vincent continued.
Summer held one hand over her nose to protect from the stench of black mold, as they descended through narrow passages.
“The real operation is beneath the cathedral district. Vatican hunters have been building it for decades.”
Summer followed him through the claustrophobic spaces, hunching her shoulders, her medical bag bouncing against her hip with each step. She’d felt a fundamental shift since Vincent’s arrival with the key.
She’d nearly surrendered to Fabian’s manipulation again, but no more, she’d walk through hell itself to reach her mate.
“How long have you known?” she asked as they navigated a junction where three tunnels converged.
“Known what Fabian really was? Always. Known what I was helping him do?” Vincent’s voice was loaded with shame. It seemed to echo off the brick walls. “I told myself it was necessary. I was assured some supernatural beings were dangerous, and the Vatican hunters provided stability and control.”
“What changed your mind?”
Vincent paused at a heavy door marked with warning signs in multiple languages. “You did. Watching him manipulate you, seeing how he used your grief and love as weapons… I realized I’d become something I never wanted to be.”
He produced a modern key. “Dr. Vale, what we’re about to see will be disturbing. The Vatican facility is designed for long-term supernatural containment and experimentation. It’s not a place where mercy exists.”
Summer’s senses were already detecting wrongness beyond the door—antiseptic smells mixed with fear and pain so concentrated they seemed to have soaked into the walls themselves. “How many people are being held there?”
“Dozens. Maybe more.” Vincent’s hand hesitated on the lock. “Are you certain you’re ready for this?”
Instead of answering, Summer reached past him and pressed her palm against the scanner. To her surprise, it accepted her handprint with a soft beep.
“How?” she whispered
“Fabian programmed your biometrics into the system,” said Vincent. “He’s been planning to bring you here all along.”
They emerged into a corridor that could have belonged to any modern medical facility.
Only the complete absence of windows and the subtle wrongness made Summer’s supernatural senses recoil.
Fluorescent lights cast harsh illumination over pristine white walls, and the air circulation system hummed with the efficiency of a place designed to contain dangerous specimens.
“Medical staff entrance. Put this on,” Vincent murmured, passing her a white doctor’s coat. “Most of the facility operates on a skeleton crew. I’ll be recognized but if you look like a new medic then we can get past anyone we meet.”
Summer moved with newfound confidence in the white coat. It gave her a professional bearing making her blend into the clinical environment. When they encountered a security guard, she nodded like a doctor making rounds, and he stepped aside without question.
But as they descended deeper into the facility, Summer began to feel power building in her chest. She plunged her hands into her pockets, took a cleansing breath and hurried after the vampire.
“Vincent,” she said quietly as they passed a bank of monitoring equipment. “Something’s happening. I can feel… more than I should be able to.”
“The Blood Moon affects all supernatural beings, but you’re unique. Your heritage combined with the emotional intensity…” Vincent glanced at her, his face wary. “Be careful, Dr. Vale. Power without training can be as dangerous as any weapon.”
They reached a section of the facility where the pretense of medical normalcy gave way. Heavy duty steel doors lined the corridors, each marked with alphanumeric codes with small viewing windows. Whimpers behind them made Summer’s heart clench.
“Supernatural beings,” Vincent explained. “Captured and processed for experimentation. The Vatican hunters believe they’re protecting humanity by studying how to destroy humans more effectively.”
Summer peered through one of the viewing windows and immediately wished she hadn’t. A woman with pointed ears and silver hair sat chained to a medical table, her body covered in surgical scars. Her eyes were open but empty, as if her uniqueness had been systematically removed.
“They’re trying to understand supernatural abilities,” Vincent continued. “How to suppress them, redirect them, or transfer them to human subjects.”
“That’s monstrous,” Summer breathed.
“Yes. And I helped make it possible.” Vincent muttered, hanging his head. “My knowledge of vampire physiology, my access to Fabian’s resources—it all contributed to this.”
They continued through the facility, Summer’s medically trained mind cataloging the systematic horror. Power continued to build inside her as her humanity recoiled in terror at the atrocities she saw.
“He’s here,” Vincent said. “Maximum containment. The Vatican hunters consider alpha werewolves to be particularly dangerous specimens.”
Summer’s hands shook as she approached the viewing window. She studied the floor for a moment, unable to raise her eyes. The flames scorched her palms, and she thought of the Knight of Pentacles. She would not give up on him now.
It was him! Rowan. Alive albeit barely.
On the other side of the door, Rowan lay unconscious on a medical table, his wrists and ankles secured with silver shackles which burned angry marks into his skin. IV lines ran from his arms to quietly humming machines, electrodes monitored vitals. Summer glanced at the machines noting the levels.
His face broke her. Even unconscious, he was haggard, older.
The week of captivity seemed to have aged him by years as if time moved at a different pace in this facility.
His skin was pale apart from the scarlet wheals from the silver burns; his breathing was so shallow she squinted to see his chest rise and fall.
“The lock requires two concurrent biometric confirmations,” Vincent said, hovering his hand on a scanner beside the door. “Yours and mine.”
Summer watched Vincent and when he nodded, she pressed her palm to the secondary scanner, and the heavy door clicked open. She rushed to Rowan’s side, automatically assessing his condition while her heart broke at the evidence of his torture.
“Rowan, darling,” she whispered, her hands wavering over his face, afraid to touch him in case she caused more pain. “I’m here. I found you.”
No response. His breathing continued at the same shallow rate, and his eyes remained closed despite her voice.
“Rowan, it’s Summer. Can you hear me?” She tried again, louder, while checking his pulse and examining the IV setup. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
She felt the silver flames on her palms urging her to lay hands on him.
But from her mate there was still nothing. No eyelid flutter, no change in breathing, no sign he recognized her voice or presence. The machines monitoring his vitals showed weak but steady function, as if his body was operating on minimal power.
Summer’s Le Voile senses detected traces of sedatives in his system, but also a chemical signature designed to suppress more than consciousness.
“They’ve been experimenting on him,” Vincent said quietly from the doorway. “Trying to understand how alpha bonds work, how they can be severed and redirected.”
“The mate bond,” Summer hissed. “This is how they severed our connection.”
She leaned closer to Rowan’s still form, pressing her hand against his chest where she should have felt the warm resonance of their bond. Instead, there was only emptiness, a part of him which had been surgically removed.
“Can it be restored?” she asked.
“I don’t know. The research is beyond my understanding, but the Vatican hunters seemed confident they could control supernatural bonds at will.” Vincent moved to examine the monitoring equipment. “Dr. Vale, his vital signs are deteriorating. Whatever they’ve done to him, his body is shutting down.”
Panic flared in Summer’s chest, followed immediately by something else—a surge of power so intense it made the lights flicker. The building energy she’d been feeling all day suddenly focused into purpose, desperation transforming into determination.
“Then we fix this,” she said, her voice carrying new authority. “All of it. The sedation, the bond severance, whatever they’ve done to suppress his supernatural healing.”
“Dr. Vale, you don’t understand the complexity?—”
“I understand he’s dying; I will not let him die.” Summer’s hands moved to the IV lines. “Help me disconnect these machines. We’re taking him home.”
As she worked to free Rowan from the medical apparatus, which was slowly killing him, Summer felt the Blood Moon rising outside of the underground facility. She placed both hands on his chest and let her silver fire flow into his tortured body.
Rowan had been conscious when they brought Summer’s blood.
He kept his breathing shallow, his heartbeat steady, maintaining the illusion of drug-induced unconsciousness while the Vatican hunters discussed their latest acquisition.
The doctor’s blood shows unprecedented magical potential, one had said.
Combined with the alpha’s genetic material, we should be able to replicate bond formation and severance at will.