Addict (Hunter #2)(65)

Sharpe held up the needle, showing it off. “I think it’s important that a doctor use the instruments he’s most comfortable with.”

I turned quickly to Marcus. “I’d rather have Henri cut it off.”

Henri stared at Sharpe, a disapproving look in his eyes as he finished with the king. “You will use modern instruments or you won’t work in my operating room.”

“Fine.” Sharpe began putting up his instruments of torture. “I can leave.”

“Alex, don’t try my patience.” The king stood. “I’ve given you immunity. Now tell me how you know this is going to work.”

Henri pulled out a tray of more properly sized needles for Sharpe’s perusal.

“I know it will work because I’ve done it before.” Sharpe tsk tsked over the small, modern needles, but prepped them anyway. “I haven’t used a human being, but it certainly works on animals. I started with mice, as is customary. I punctured the specimen’s heart with a needle and was able to heal the injury with a combination of the king’s blood and a werewolf’s.”

Donovan’s lips curled up in a snarl. “You want to explain where you got my blood? I know I didn’t give it to you.”

Sharpe looked as innocent as a serial killer could. “I only borrowed a bit.”

“Verdomme,” Henri cursed. I don’t understand Dutch, but I’ve been around enough Euros to catch a curse when I hear it. “You stole some of the backup supply.”

Henri kept a supply of the king’s blood for emergency situations.

Sharpe shrugged as though pleased with his own crimes. “Yes, I did. Now might be a good time to point out what the words ‘complete immunity’ mean.”

“Continue.” Donovan bit off his words in an attempt to control his rage.

Sharpe practically purred. “My first experiment was an unqualified success. I continued on, giving each subject longer and longer periods of ‘rest time,’ so to speak.”

“You mean you let them lie dead before you brought them back.” Henri glared at the younger vampire, and a deep crease split his brow.

Sharpe’s eyes narrowed as he took in the Dutch doctor. He continued to prepare his cocktail while he spoke. “Do you forget so easily, Henri?”

The Dutch doctor crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

Hugo sighed. “Don’t bring that up, Sharpe. You know we never bring that up.”

But Henri was off and running. “Do not even claim your perverse experiments have anything in common with my creature. He was a thing of beauty. He was a beacon of light. My creature was a kind and gentle soul.” Henri’s eyes got misty. “They couldn’t understand him. Stupid villagers with their torches and pitchforks.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. His creature? Seriously? “Henri was Dr. Frankenstein?”

Marcus winced, and I knew I’d made a mistake.

“Don’t mention that horrible woman’s book,” Henri said, sniffling. “She tricked me into telling her my story.”

“You slept with her, Henri,” Hugo pointed out. “You get extremely talkative with your lovers. I believe I warned you at the time that it’s best to not talk to writers. They tend to tell all, if you know what I mean.”

“I cannot help it that I’m attracted to creative females,” the doctor sulked. “When she said she wanted to write my story, I believed she would make me the hero.”

“Yes, scientists bringing corpses back to life are the stuff of heroes.” I turned back to Sharpe, who had the needles ready to go. “So we have a bunch of zombie mice running around the complex? I ask because if they start eating people, the king is probably going to send me after them.”

The vampire pulled a stool toward my bed. He waved Gray aside with a dismissive hand gesture. “I destroyed the specimens, of course. Unlike Henri, I don’t get attached to my experiments. I don’t cry when villagers poke pitchforks through their torsos and then set fire to my lodgings.”

Henri sighed sadly. “Yes, Hugo and I had to run very quickly.”

“Now, when I moved on to larger specimens, I did run into a bit of trouble.” Sharpe examined my arm. He ran his fingers up and down, tracing the blue lines showing against the pale of my skin. I tried to pull back, finding the touch far too intimate from him, but he insisted. “I need to find a good vein, dear.”

“What kind of trouble did you have with the larger specimens? And how large are we talking?” Donovan was all business now.

Though he didn’t touch me, I could feel Gray at the top of my gurney. Marcus held my good hand and watched everything the vampire doctor did, but I felt Gray’s eyes on me. Sharpe continued his happy horror tale.

“The larger animals proved difficult to control.” Sharpe’s fingers brushed along my skin, making me shiver with dread. I knew what he was looking for. He was looking for the best vein to push the blood through. He would start where the vein was alive and push it through the dead parts, making a river of life-giving blood. It made sense, and I hated the fact that he was the one doing it. “I would be on the lookout for a slightly deranged poodle. All right, dear, here we go.”

I hissed slightly as he pushed the needle into my vein. He was a vampire. He didn’t need a second chance. He got it right the first time. I didn’t like his smile as he stood over me. “No problem.”