Dragon's Storm (Legion Of Angels #4)(4)
“You leave her out of this!”
His eyes glowed silver-blue. Despite the fact that she represented everything he could never be, the vampire clearly loved his sister. He didn’t want her to die.
“Drink the Nectar, and she may go home.”
The vampire growled in frustration, fear burning through the eerie glow of his eyes. I saw it then. His desire to live was stronger than his love for his sister. He wouldn’t drink the Nectar.
The Interrogators must have seen it too. They shook their heads in silent disapproval.
“By order of the gods, I command you to drink,” Major Singh told the witch.
Marina slowly lifted the goblet to her mouth, her hands trembling. The vampire watched in horror, tears streaming down his face.
“Wait.” Captain Norton stayed her hand before the goblet touched her lips. He looked at the vampire. “There is another way. A way to balance your dark act without anyone swearing their life to the Legion, without anyone drinking the Nectar.”
The vampire’s eyes lit up with hope. “What is it?”
“The vampires of House Rune are responsible for countless acts of terror against humanity. But you, Mr. Farrows, are uniquely equipped to help us put an end to their campaign of extortion, fear, and death. All you have to do is tell us where to find Charles Rune’s base of operations.”
“You want me to betray the Butcher of New York?” The vampire shivered. “You might as well kill me yourself.”
“The Legion of Angels is perfectly capable of protecting you from a few rogue vampires,” Major Singh said, her nose turning up at his suggestion of incompetence. “But if you don’t wish to help us, there are other ways for justice to be served.”
“Justice? I thought you called it balance,” the vampire said drily.
“My colleague calls it balance. He is an incorrigible romantic. I’ve tried to cure him of it, but he remains stubbornly idealistic,” she replied. “But I do not share his romantic notions of cosmic balance. I subscribe to the eye-for-an-eye school of thought. Blood will be spilled, Mr. Farrows. You will decide whether it’s yours, your sister’s, or the blood of the murdering traitorous vampires you call friends. Choose quickly, or I will choose for you. And I can guarantee you won’t be happy with my choice.”
Indecision crinkled the vampire’s forehead. His gaze shifted to his sister, and then, just like that, the indecision melted away. His eyes hardened with the look of a man who had chosen his fate.
“Rune’s base is in an old castle in the Wilds,” he said.
Every band, belt, and chain on the chair simultaneously popped open.
“Show me.” Captain Norton pulled up a magical projection that displayed a map of the Wilds.
The vampire’s eyes darted to the restraints, as though he expected them to slam shut the moment he stood. He rose slowly, cautiously. The chair let him go. He crossed the room to stand before the shining dots and lines floating in the air, ruled by the Interrogators’ magic and will.
“There.” He pointed at a spot in the northern Wilds, a few hours’ drive from Montreal. The projection shifted and jiggled like liquid silk, then the contours of the map reformed. “That’s where it is.”
Captain Norton glanced at his colleague.
She looked up from the readings on her tablet and nodded. “He’s telling the truth.”
Vampires were mostly immune to telepathy and truth serums, and compulsion only worked on them if they weren’t fighting it. But the Legion possessed sophisticated Magitech that could pretty accurately determine whether someone was lying by reading various bodily signs, keyed by supernatural species. It took a pretty hard-boiled person, typically a soldier with advanced training in resisting interrogation, to fool the machine. This vampire was untrained. I could decipher every emotion that surged through him just by reading the expressions on his face. I didn’t need a fancy magic machine for that.
“The Legion thanks you for your cooperation,” Major Singh told Marina. “One of our soldiers will return you to the university.”
Marina’s eyes flickered to her brother, who was wringing out his hands like he didn’t know what to do with them. “What will happen to him?”
“As soon as House Rune has been destroyed, we will release him into the custody of House Vermillion, who will oversee his long journey toward integration into civilized vampire society.”
“How long will it take for him to atone? How long before the black mark is cleared from his name?”
“That depends on him—and on his new vampire house. House Vermillion is quite adept at reforming rogue vampires. Their average time is just under fifty years.”
“Fifty years?” A gasp broke Marina’s refined facade. “This taint will be on our family for fifty years?”
Amongst supernaturals, the entire family bore any dishonor incurred by its members. For witches, that dishonor extended to their coven. The other covens of New York would shun the Kanes. Their alliances would crumble, their wealth and influence evaporate. Fifty years was a long time to bear that black mark. It was very unlikely the Kane coven would ever recover from that.
The vampire frowned. He clearly hadn’t thought this through. When you dealt with the Legion of Angels, you had to be very, very careful. By betraying Charles Rune, he’d spared himself and his sister from the Nectar that killed half the people who drank it, but he had not spared them the dishonor of his previous crimes.