Chapter Ten #2
The car started with a whir that seemed far too loud in the stillness.
Isaiah flinched at each grind of gravel as they pulled out of the lot and down the drive.
He could see nothing through the trees until suddenly the path spit them out on a proper road, manicured forest on both sides and fancy lampposts guiding their way.
They passed the driveways of one mansion after another as the street twisted along.
Isaiah kept holding Landon’s hand, focusing on his breathing and the nearness of their freedom as the estates turned to large family dwellings, and finally to a mix of apartments and businesses.
Hilker pulled onto the main street. There were other cars on the street despite the darkness, and Isaiah leaned to the side to note the time on Hilker’s dash—4:45am.
He’d been right about their breakfast technically being around sunset, then.
When did Hilker ever sleep?
As they drove toward the road to the Vitalis-Barron compound, Isaiah’s nerves spiked again, but Hilker only took the freeway onramp to the left of the compound’s entrance, and after a few more minutes, the massive research building was vanishing in the rearview mirror.
That still left Isaiah with the question of where they were heading.
“Out of the city,” Hilker answered. “It’ll be safer for you not to be here for a while. I have an old place I inherited a few hours north where you can both stay until things… calm down.”
He said nothing more and Isaiah felt too raw from nerves and hope to keep pushing, watching the city fly by until they turned onto the smaller highway that led into the mountains.
It was a winding trip, dark but for the small towns that appeared, fewer and farther between the longer they drove.
Isaiah, perhaps foolishly, expected Hilker to turn into one such settlement, but when he finally pulled off the highway, it was for a tired and lonesome old road.
Isaiah’s gut twisted as each new mile that passed carried them deeper into the mountainous forest of pines, rocks, and brittle brush.
By the time they pulled into a dirt driveway in front of a simple single-story cabin, the sky had begun to lighten.
Hilker put the car into park, but he didn’t turn it off.
He fumbled through his pockets before twisting to offer Isaiah a key, along with a device that Isaiah vaguely recognized as a pager.
“I’ve programmed my number in already,” Hilker said. “You’d be hard-pressed to get down the mountain on foot, but if you need me, all you have to do is hit the center button.”
Isaiah took them both, his skin tingling where it brushed against Hilker’s. “Is this mountain your version of imprisoning us? It’s an improvement.”
The ghost of desire passed over Hilker’s face as he replied, “Love, if ever I locked you up, I would keep you the way such beauty is meant to be held.” The dark edge flitted into a somber exhaustion with the shake of his head.
“Give me three weeks, and I’ll come back for you.
As of now, no one should know for certain that I’ve taken part in your escape.
If I’m gone any longer, my involvement will become undeniable, and there are too many things that still need my attention in San Salud.
I cannot keep contact with you initially, but at least here, I’ll know you’re safe.
You’ll have plenty of supplies, electricity, water—everything you could need to rest and prepare for whatever you choose to do next. ”
It was such an honest answer beneath the formal language and logic that it left Isaiah with an ache between his ribs. He handed the key to Landon. “I’m okay with this if you are.”
Landon’s mouth twisted. They shrugged one shoulder. “I hate doing anything this fucking bastard says, but it’s still kind of a good plan. Where else are we gonna go?”
To Ala Santa, Isaiah wanted to say. To Justin.
But Justin had enough to worry about without throwing two escaped lab captives at him.
Anyone Isaiah went to now would end up in danger for it.
And… he was tired. He was tired, and human, and the longer he sat there, the more dread filled him at the thought of trying to explain everything he’d been through to the people who’d known a past version of him.
Landon got out of the car, the serum container still clutched to their chest. Isaiah slid after them, watching as they walked across the dawn-lit front yard, their shoulders back and head held high, like they truly were a princess, emerging from the darkness of their tower to ascend directly to the throne.
And Isaiah loved them. Fucking hell, he did love them.
He tried to step after Landon, but Hilker called to him from the front seat. “Isaiah?”
It was his name, but in Hilker’s voice—for the first time, he thought. It didn’t sound right. It didn’t sound wrong either, though. He paused, one hand on the car door and the other tucked into his back pocket, and leaned over to look at Hilker. “Yeah?”
Hilker tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
His knuckles turned white. “You know, I instigated the creation of the unholy gold… for you,” he finally said.
“I did not want to see you in pain.” His throat seemed to catch, and he cleared it with a cough, still staring out the front windshield.
“I have caused suffering—Clementine’s primarily, among others—but this project has been the first time I have worked with—on—vampires.
I wasn’t in Vitalis-Barron’s live specimen laboratory.
I did not think seeing that pain would…” He shook his head.
“I believed I was desensitized to such things, but perhaps there’s hope for me yet.
” As he finished, he finally turned to meet Isaiah’s gaze, his smile so weak that it looked moments away from cracking.
Isaiah tried to wrap his mind around the admission, but his heart took over in a deep, terrible throbbing. A lump formed in the back of his throat. It hurt. “You had the unholy gold made for me?”
“Yes.” Hilker winced, like this was something to be ashamed of.
Not the making of the unholy gold, Isaiah realized—the fact that Hilker had cared enough that he’d taken time away from his science to do it. The holy silver had been producing results. He could have continued his research using that. The only reason to seek something new had been Isaiah’s pain.
Hilker looked away again, twisting his hands back and forth against the steering wheel leather. “I just wanted you to know that.”
“In case it changes what I think of you?”
“Perhaps, yes.”
Isaiah wanted to scoff at him. He wanted to walk away.
And he wanted to slide back into the car, and lean across the console, and see what it was like to kiss Dr. Anthony Hilker outside of the laboratory, on his own terms, for no reason but that he could.
Instead, he let his gaze follow the beam of the car headlights to where Landon was waving back toward them from the cabin’s front door, and said, “You set Landon free. Whatever else I think of you, that will always be the one thing that matters most.”
Maybe that wasn’t what Hilker was hoping for, but it seemed enough for him. His hands relaxed. “Okay.”
Isaiah patted the top of the car. “Stay safe, Dr. Hilker.”
Hilker breathed out. He smiled again, and it stuck this time. “You as well.”
Isaiah somehow lived through the clunk of the car door closing, the crackle of the dirt as Hilker turned the vehicle around, and the last flash of headlights before—nothing. He breathed in, and out, and forced himself to live on. One more day. He could do one more day.
One more day, with Landon, face to face.
The two of them set about examining the cabin immediately.
It wasn’t fancy or even particularly clean—there was a clear buildup of dust on most of the furniture—but the cupboards were stocked with cans, rice, jam jars, protein bars, a few packs of freeze-dried fish, and a box of Twinkies.
The fridge ran. The water came out of the kitchen faucet a bit grimy at first, but it cleared quickly, and when Isaiah dipped his mouth into the stream, it tasted crisp and delicious.
The stove clicked a few times before catching. Isaiah shut it off again.
In the single bedroom’s closet hung a few outfits, large enough to fit Isaiah though clearly made for someone with more bulk—and judging by the style, a desire to ruggedly chop wood or smoke freshly caught fish over an open fire or some other mountain hunk fantasy that was probably part of Hilker’s thriller and mystery romance collection.
He returned to the little living room attached to the kitchen to find Landon had already shaken out the quilt on the couch and sat down. They stared into the open serum cooler.
“Oh,” Isaiah said.
They looked up at him. “Will you help me? Help me be human again...”
Isaiah’s heart pounded like a war drum against the thought, and he knew how ridiculous it was to react to the idea of Landon, whose whole life had revolved around this for years, actively wanting it—choosing it.
But something in him still roiled at the idea.
They didn’t have to choose this now. He hadn’t had that luxury, but they could.
Landon was going to throw their fangs away.
And he should let them. As their friend. That was the supportive option.
And yet.
“You never really got to be a vampire,” Isaiah protested.
“You haven’t bitten anyone. You haven’t scaled the side of a building.
You haven’t stared up at the stars at 2am and seen the world crystal clear.
All the time you’ve had your fangs, you’ve been trapped in a cell.
How do you know you don’t want to stay the way you are? ”
A sheen filled over Landon’s eyes. “I don’t want to bite anyone or scale any buildings. I just want to lie on a fucking blanket in the afternoon sun and be me, dammit.”