Chapter 13 | Anna
I was deposited into a room that was sterile, old, and smelled ancient. The walls were smooth stone. In the center, one scarred wooden desk that stood alone with a chair. Harsh overhead lights burned brightly. One chair in front of the desk—for interrogation, perhaps. There was no window.
This was a fortress.
And I wondered if this was the same fortress in Hatay, Turkey where I found Kincade after Sebastian took him back the first time.
This… this had to be the same place.
What I knew of the Brotherhood was minimal. Their secret headquarters was in the ruins of Bagras Castle, one of the old Templar fortresses in what was once Antioch. They’d restored the interior of the castle and lived there in secret.
Kincade rarely talked about his time in the Brotherhood, but I knew they’d honed him into a weapon, using him for centuries.
The only other thing I knew about them was they hunted down deserters. Silas had been one of them. Silas had a family once. The Brotherhood killed them in an effort to bring him back into the fold. He’d gotten away and lived in hiding.
And thinking of that now sent a ripple of fear through me. Kincade’s words echoed back to me.
And when they use you to get to me? Because they will.
Was Sebastian going to keep me as a pawn to make Kincade kneel? To make him return to the Brotherhood under this new regime? To turn him into someone I didn’t recognize?
Or was he already that man when he tried to keep me out of their hands? How many lines had he crossed? How many men had he killed?
The door opened. Light slashed in from the hallway, revealing stone walls.
Sebastian Crane stepped inside and closed the door.
We stared at each other a long, silent moment.
The man was still handsome, but with an ugliness to him I hadn’t seen the first time we’d met. His wavy black hair was longer than I remembered—touching his collar—and his eyes were still piercing green.
I’d fought him in hand-to-hand combat for the release of Kincade. We’d beat the fuck out of each other. I would have won if he hadn’t cheated. Because he didn’t fight fair.
He still didn’t.
“It’s nice to see you again, Miss Walker,” he said, his tone even and cold.
I said nothing. Merely stood there staring at him with my heart in my throat. But I remained steady. My gaze never wavering. I refused to allow him to see fear.
“Have a seat.” He waved to the chair in front of the desk as he rounded it.
“I’ll stand.”
He lowered himself into the chair behind the desk, laced his fingers and looked at me as though we were about to have a casual chat.
I hated this man.
“I have to say, the white hair suits you.” He smirked.
The last time we saw each other it was before I burned myself out with the Ark. My hair was black then. But all that power pumping through my body had stripped it of its color.
“What do you want, Sebastian?” I asked, ignoring his compliment. If it was that.
He smiled faintly, making my skin crawl. “I want you. And here you are.”
I thought of the note I found in the desk.
Bring her to us—or we’ll come to you.
I drew in a steadying breath. I searched his face, but he had gotten good at controlling his emotions.
“Why?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.
He studied my face. “You don’t want to know about my wayward Watcher?”
I went still as dread clawed up my neck. The last thing I saw was Kincade’s face before I was taken. Had they captured him, too?
When I didn’t answer, he said, “No? Hm.”
As though he was surprised I didn’t want to know. A pause then. “What do you suppose he’ll do?”
I knew what he was asking and why.
My first thought—rip Sebastian’s face off. And I’d help.
“He’ll do what he does best,” I said, trying for evasive. Failing.
“Which is what I’m counting on.” He smiled a dangerous smile. “You see, if I can’t bring him to heel—if he won’t come back in line—then there’s no longer any incentive to keep him.”
“And what happens then?” I asked, afraid of the answer.
“He gives you up,” he said. “One way or another.”
“Or you kill him,” I said.
Again, that dangerous smile. “I have no tolerance for disobedience.”
Then he rose from the chair, came around the desk and stood far too close to me.
“Walk with me.”
He motioned toward the door. I had no choice but to follow him. He was trying to unnerve me, but I had decided when I fell instep beside him, he wasn’t going to intimidate me.
The hallway was cold with stone walls that seemed to go on forever. I could tell from the smoothness of the stone it was ancient. I’d been in enough old churches and castles to recognize this was no modern structure.
We turned left down another corridor that led to a set of double doors that did look modern, which alarmed me. I didn’t like where this was going.
Through the doors, this felt like a different wing. Newer. Sterile. With the hint of a medicinal smell I recognized. I used to work in a hospital. I knew what they smelled like, felt like. The overhead lights were bright and unforgiving. And, despite my bravado, trepidation sizzled under my skin.
He took me down the hallway, turned another corner, and there was what appeared to be an office door. He didn’t even knock as he pushed it open and stood aside for me to enter.
Inside, another office. This one more elaborate, more functional, with whitewashed walls.
A bearded man with silver hair sat behind an executive desk, his head down as he made notes in a small book.
A computer sat on the desk. A pile of paper to one side.
Behind him on the wall a large diploma that boasted a fancy degree.
The floor was low-pile carpet that muffled our footsteps as we entered. In front of the desk, two plush club chairs inviting guests to sit and stay awhile. On one side, a liquor cart. On the other side, a bookshelf full of what appeared to be medical journals.
When we entered, the man looked up, clicked off his pen and sat back in his chair. His dark gaze instantly met mine and something about that sent a chill right up my spine.
“Ah, you brought her,” he said. “Good.”
He had a hint of an accent I couldn’t place. Not German. Not Austrian. Something in between.
“Anna, this is Dr. Vormund. You two are going to be spending a lot of time together,” Sebastian said.
My hands curled into fists, my nails biting into my palm. “Are we?”
Dr. Vormund rose from the desk and walked around it.
He looked like anyone else. Silver hair.
Aged face with the right amount of laugh lines around the eyes.
A perfectly trimmed salt and pepper beard.
He wore a button-down shirt in a pale blue tucked into black pants.
No tie. His shoes were shiny. As though he’d polished them that day.
His cologne wafted toward me. Something old and dark.
“She doesn’t look dangerous,” he said.
Sebastian smiled faintly. “Neither does the match that burns a city.” He turned back to me, then. “Dr. Vormund leads the Knights of the Holy Lance.”
He said this as if it were something I should already know.
My gaze flicked from Sebastian to the doctor. That couldn’t be true. The leader was someone named Schneider, and I’d killed him in Istanbul.
The Knights were solely responsible for butchering my mother’s mind—making her into a super dream walker killing machine.
“I see you have questions,” Vormund said. “Please feel free to ask.”
I didn’t speak.
When I didn’t, he continued. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you? Destroying labs and trying to obliterate us.”
My eyes narrowed. He knew I’d taken out the labs—one in Antarctica and one in Taipei. I thought that would stop them and their horrendous experiments. I’d misjudged them.
“I hope you understand, though, Miss Walker, you’re not here to be punished,” he said.
“That’s comforting,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected.
He gave me a thin-lipped smile, as if that was amusing.
Sebastian leaned closer to me then. “You’re a liability,” he said, his breath brushing my ear. “But you’ll soon be an asset.”
I cut him a glance, then looked back to Vormund. “So,” I said, casually, “you don’t need me compliant. You need me useful.”
“Ah, she understands,” Vormund said to Sebastian, sounding pleased. “This is good. When can we prep her?”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “Prep me?”
Sebastian seemed to be enjoying this all too much. “Yes, Miss Walker. Prep you.”
I shook my head, knowing where this was going. “I won’t help you. You can’t turn me like the others.”
“The others?” Vormund asked.
“She means like those in Antarctica,” Sebastian supplied. “Turning her dream walking powers into something more.”
“Oh, I see,” he said with a nod. “No, Miss Walker. We’re not going to turn you into that. We’ve moved beyond those… primitive experiments.”
Primitive? That was primitive?
My pulse jumped. “Then what are you proposing?”
“Something different. Something better. Something… shall we say, honed,” Vormund said.
Fury bloomed within my chest. “I will not.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” he added. Then gave a nod toward Sebastian. “Does she?”
“She doesn’t.”
Then he leaned toward me. Sebastian’s voice was quiet when he answered. Too gentle.
“You’ll stop resisting,” he said, “once you understand who you’re meant to hurt.”
The truth slid into place with horrifying clarity.
I understood what Kincade was trying to shield me from. I wasn’t leverage.
They were going to make me break him.
I was a weapon.