Chapter 19
Chapter
Nineteen
Summer returned to Le Sang, blood seeping through her torn sweater and Vincent’s urgent whispers still ringing in her ears.
The feral hybrid had raked its claws across her forearm before Vincent could subdue it.
The three parallel gashes it left throbbed with corrupted magic.
But the physical pain was nothing compared to what she’d discovered in the sterile facility.
“Summer!” Fabian appeared in the foyer before she crossed the threshold, his pale eyes immediately locking onto the crimson stains spreading through the torn fabric. “What happened? Where’s Vincent?”
“Hybrid attack,” she said, allowing exhaustion to make her voice shake. “We were investigating reports of unusual activity in the warehouse district. One of them broke free while we were examining the scene.”
Fabian’s hands moved to her shoulders, his touch gentle, but his grip was proprietary. “You’re bleeding. Come, let me tend to those wounds properly.”
He guided her toward his private study, and Summer made note of how naturally he moved toward the room with its locked drawers and hidden weapons. As they entered, Fabian’s attention was entirely focused on her injured arm, his nostrils flaring slightly as he caught the full scent of her blood.
“Sit,” he instructed, positioning her in the leather chair she’d searched just hours before. “I’ll get the medical supplies.”
Summer watched him gather antiseptic and bandages from a cabinet, noting his movements with new awareness.
Everything he did was practiced, powerful, and capable.
She found herself wondering how many supernatural wounds he’d tended before.
When she caught sight of the Glock and the magazine of silver bullets at the back of the cabinet, her thoughts switched to wondering how many wounds he’d caused.
“This may sting,” Fabian warned, as he soaked a pad of gauze with antiseptic. He lowered the pad to clean the claw marks, watching her carefully. Summer evaded his gaze. The moment the antiseptic touched her arm, soaking up her blood, his entire body went rigid.
It wasn’t the normal vampire response to blood; all hunger, predatory focus, and the basic drive for sustenance.
Fabian’s pupils dilated as he inhaled deeply, his hands trembling as he processed whatever her blood was telling him.
Lena’s words came back to her, and she hoped an unborn child had not been added to their complicated liaison.
“Fabian?” Summer let the concern in her voice filter through. Even if the concern wasn’t entirely for the creature. “Are you alright?”
“Fine. Just… the scent of the… the hybrid corruption is quite strong.” He recovered quickly, but Summer spotted the moment of complete stillness and how he had lost himself in whatever he sensed from her wounds. “Your blood carries traces of the hybrid’s magic. It will fade as you heal.”
The explanation sounded reasonable, but Summer had seen enough of this vampire’s responses to blood to know this was different. He wasn’t responding to her as food. Had he scented the presence of a child? His response to her was predatory and possessive, and she avoided looking into his eyes.
“Vincent mentioned Vatican hunters have been active in the area,” she said casually, as she watched Fabian wrap her wounds. “Do you think they might be connected to these hybrid attacks?”
Fabian’s hands paused for a fraction of a second too long before continuing. “The Vatican hunters are always active somewhere. They view supernatural beings as inherent threats to human safety.”
“Do you mean specifically here, in New Orleans? Vincent seemed to think their methods had evolved, become more sophisticated.” Summer shot a glance at Fabian’s profile as he focused on her bandages. “He mentioned something about them working with local contacts rather than operating independently.”
“Vincent has an active imagination,” Fabian replied, but his voice carried a new tension. “The hunters prefer to work alone, in my experience. They don’t trust supernatural beings enough for genuine collaboration.”
The answer was too smooth, too prepared. Summer recognized the tone he’d rehearsed to respond to difficult questions. Now he was dodging her gaze as he smoothed the bandage.
“Interesting,” she said. “Because some of the equipment in the facility looked military grade. Professional supernatural hunting gear, not what you’d expect random criminals to have access to.”
“Equipment can be stolen, purchased, or acquired in many ways.” Fabian finished tying off the bandage, his pale eyes meeting hers for a moment. His concern appeared genuine, but she felt her palms warm as if warning her not to hold his gaze for too long. “What exactly did you see at this facility?”
Summer described the warehouse in detail: the surgical tables, the restraints, the blood storage systems, all the time watching Fabian’s reactions from the corner of her eye.
His expression appeared sympathetic, but she noticed how his questions probed for specific details about security measures and if evidence had been left behind.
She noticed he asked nothing about anything specific that might give away his true knowledge of the facility and what it contained.
“It sounds like quite a methodical operation,” he said when she finished. “It rather suggests significant resources and planning.”
“Vincent thinks someone is trying to weaponize the hybrid transformation process. Create controllable supernatural soldiers.” Summer leaned forward, wondering whether to risk eye contact.
She was sure he’d glamoured her before, but suspected there had been something in the wine which crushed her Le Voile magical warnings.
“Who would have the resources and motivation for something like that?”
“Any number of organizations. Government black ops, private military contractors, radical supernatural factions.” Fabian’s list came too easily, as if he’d considered the possibilities before. “The applications for controllable supernatural abilities are… extensive.”
“And the Vatican hunters? Would they be capable of something like this?”
“Certainly. They have the funding, the motivation, and the moral flexibility to justify almost any action in the name of protecting humanity.” Fabian stood, moving to pour himself a glass of wine from a crystal decanter. “They’ve never been particularly concerned with ethical limitations.”
They’re not the only ones who don’t worry about ethics, Summer thought as she watched him move around his study.
He was so comfortable he was in this space, his hand moved naturally to specific objects.
She declined his offer of wine, even though her throbbing forearm might appreciate some alleviation from the alcohol, if she was pregnant as she suspected her baby would not appreciate the wine.
“You seem to know a lot about their operations.”
“Know your enemy,” Fabian said, raising his glass in a mock toast. “I’ve made it my business to understand those who would destroy me.”
“Of course.” Summer nodded as if accepting his explanation; at surface level, it made perfect sense, but his extensive knowledge felt amiss. Opposition typically bred suspicion and hatred, not the detailed familiarity the vampire had at his fingertips.
“You should rest,” Fabian said, gliding toward her chair. “Tomorrow will bring new challenges, and you need time to process everything you’ve learned.”
“Actually, I’m not sure I can sleep yet. The adrenaline, you know.” Summer rose carefully, testing her bandaged arm. “Maybe I could read for a while in the library? Sometimes research helps me calm down.”
“Certainly. I have some business calls to make anyway.” Fabian’s smile was warm and verging on supportive. “Don’t overtire yourself.”
Summer made her way to the library, but instead of settling into her usual reading chair, she chose to circle back for a sneaky listen at Fabian’s study door.
He was speaking in Latin again. It only confirmed what she knew already.
At least she was no longer trapped in his mansion, and entirely dependent on his hospitality, while he planned whatever came next in his collaboration with the people who wanted to destroy every supernatural being in New Orleans.
Now Summer saw the full scope of the trap closing around her from the moment she’d accepted his help.
Now she needed to act.