Trail of Dead (Scarlett Bernard #2)(78)

There was still a bit of emergency lighting, and I was able to make out a couple of long hallways and a big waiting room with an empty aquarium. Olivia led me through the waiting room and into the center of the building, where patients had been treated. There was a long corridor of exam rooms and then a big, open nurses’ area with empty desks and metal file cabinets. This was where the vampire and the witch had set up shop.

There was no emergency lighting here, but a small portable generator hummed on one side of the room, and some lamps and extension cords brightened the cavernous area from almost pitch-black to bar-lighting dim. There were also candles set up all over the place, which contributed both to the lighting and the creepy sense of atmosphere. As my eyes fully adjusted, I realized the candles were set at all the corners of an enormous pentagram that had been painted on the open floor space. There were symbols and characters within the pentagram, but nothing I recognized with my limited experience. I shivered, suddenly unnerved.

“I don’t like this,” said a cold, hard voice behind us. I spun around, caught between Olivia and the new voice. I squinted and made out a woman silhouetted against the doorway. She’d been waiting for us, and now I was truly trapped.

“You must be Mallory,” I said, still trying to make out the woman’s features. I needn’t have bothered—she stepped forward, into the light—and into my radius.

I gasped, hit by two perceptions at once. First, that this woman practically vibrated with power. She was as strong as Kirsten, maybe even stronger. At the same time, there was something about her magic that felt different from Kirsten’s—darker, somehow, or more…decaying? There wasn’t really a good word for it. I’d never felt anything like that.

As the light hit her, I also realized that she was horrifically scarred. She had long, gorgeous black hair, and her eyes, nose, and forehead were perfect, but all the exposed skin on her chin, neck, and chest looked like it’d been burned. Somewhat ironically, it looked like those parts of her skin were made from wet, flesh-colored clay. The scarring disappeared into her button-down shirt, which she wore under a traditional white lab coat. She leaned on some kind of cane, favoring her right leg. That was why she’d sent Olivia to take care of Rabbi Samuel. Samuel was a friend of the witches and a Jewish historian; he might have recognized the golem and known how to stop it. And Mallory couldn’t overpower a grown man by herself. They made a good team, the vampire and the handicapped witch.

“So Kirsten figured it out, finally. Well, good for her,” the woman said, nodding to herself. “I suppose it doesn’t much matter at this point.”

“Why not?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual. Just having a little chat between us girls. They were both in my radius; it was time to make my move. My right hand drifted toward my back, but I paused. Think it through first, Scarlett. It would take a few seconds to pull up the long T-shirt and unstick the gun from my back. Another second to get the safety off. Olivia and Mallory would both realize what I was doing as soon as I lifted the T-shirt—did either of them have their own gun handy?

“Because Kirsten’s going to die,” Mallory was saying. “As are you.”

Fuck it. I had to try.

I was just shifting my weight to reach for the pistol when, with no warning, Olivia’s fist drove into my stomach. I gasped, doubling over so fast I lost my balance and fell on the floor, which jarred my aching back. Had Olivia seen the outline of the gun? I peered up at her, but she just smiled broadly. She’d been human, but she’d been so fast.

“What…was that for?” I panted.

“Sorry, darling,” Olivia said, with a sympathetic smile. “I know Mallory sounds scary, but you’ll actually be just fine. Better than ever.”

I didn’t answer, because for the second time that night I was struggling to remember the mechanics of breathing.

Mallory was looking at Olivia too. “It’s eleven thirty already. Are you sure this can’t wait until afterwards?” The way she said it made it sound like this was an argument they’d been having right before I arrived.

Olivia was too close to me to be a vampire, but she still bared her teeth in a feral, angry gesture. When she spoke, though, her voice was neither angry nor bubbly. “This was my condition,” she said simply. “I want her with me. I want her to be a part of this. You knew that.”

“Fine,” Mallory sighed. “I’ll prepare the IV. It’ll take a bit for the radiation machine to warm up.”

“What?” I gasped, but they both ignored me.

“How would you like her restrained?” Mallory asked Olivia, in a perfectly polite tone, like she was asking how Olivia wanted her eggs.

“The golem, of course.”

“Of course. I’ll go fetch it.” Mallory leaned on her cane and took a few steps away from me, toward one of the exam rooms. I felt her leave my radius. As she went I saw her pulling something from her lab coat pocket that looked like a paintbrush or a small stick. I was still too weak to care much. I managed to roll myself onto my butt, head between my knees, trying to figure out how to uncurl myself and get to the gun. But Olivia crouched down right in front of me, eyes searching my face, and I froze, shivering with cold and nerves. Would she see it on my face? Dammit, I was terrible at this. Bruce would be ashamed.

There was some mumbling from the exam room, and then Mallory reemerged, brushing her hands together. The stick had disappeared back into her lab coat pocket. I opened my mouth to say something—no idea what—when I heard the thudding steps coming from just behind her. And the golem emerged.