Asylum (Causal Enchantment #2)(40)
“Right this way,” I said warmly, gesturing down the tunnel.
He removed his trench coat and folded it over one arm of his custom-tailored navy pinstripe suit. “What’s this about?” His eyes roamed the tunnel as we walked.
I chuckled. “Do you normally accept invitations to strange places with no idea why you’re going?”
He threw a contemptuous glare my way. “When the address is Fifth Avenue, I’m willing to be surprised.”
That earned another sadistic laugh. “Oh, you’ll be surprised, alright.”
Wariness edged into his aura. Not fear. Guys like this didn’t scare easily.
But soon it would come.
Lewis nervously adjusted his draped coat and the sparkle of a diamond-encrusted watch caught my eye. I couldn’t help myself. “So the meth business is quite profitable for you, I see.”
Lewis pursed his lips and shot me a look of smug disapproval, but said nothing.
“It takes an exceptionally revolting kind of person to nurture fourteen-year-olds into addicts and prostitutes,” I prodded, thoroughly enjoying the moment. It was like poking a cornered rabid raccoon with a long stick.
Lewis sneered. “I don’t know who you are, lady, but don’t mess with me . . . ” His voice faded as we reached the gaping hole that opened onto the destroyed atrium. And his death. His eyes widened with surprise. “What the hell happened in here?”
“Someone messed with me,” I answered flippantly. His deep laughter filled the tunnel. He thinks I’m joking. He lifted long legs over fallen bricks and followed me into the atrium. A new wave of his wariness filled my nostrils.
Mage was waiting. “Hello, Lewis.”
I glanced to my left, where the others huddled in a far corner, shifting their weight from one foot to the other as they watched intently, their eyes morphing. It was as if they could sense the blood pumping through millions of vessels nearby, but they couldn’t figure out how to get to it.
Lewis gave Mage the once-over, as he had done to me. “I’m a busy man. What can you do for me?” he answered, peering arrogantly from his greater height at the diminutive woman before him.
Her coal-black eyes lit up. “Oh, something very important. We can give you immortality.” Mage smiled sweetly as she glided forward. “You’re here to test our venom, so let’s get started. I’m going to inject my venom into you and we’ll see if you survive or not.” Mage’s announcement was so simple, it was as if she were explaining a basic dental procedure.
But Lewis wasn’t distracted from her words “What the—”
Mage was instantly beside Lewis, her leg flying out to knock him to his knees, her dainty hand seizing his chin and effortlessly forcing his head back. Hideous, pulsating veins engulfed the whites of her eyes as she leaned forward—and sank her fangs into his neck.
A wave of terror hit me as Lewis’s fear overwhelmed his aura, followed closely by the unpleasant scent of urine. He jerked wildly, attempting to fight off his tiny assailant. In response, Mage’s left hand moved to his spine and twisted. I heard a sickening snap and his body slackened. There was no more fight from Lewis.
Mage took her time, slowly draining him of his blood. His face grew chalky, his eyes glassy. He would die if she didn’t complete the process soon.
“Mage,” I warned. Bloodshot irises rose and locked with mine. “The test,” I reminded her in a slow, even voice.
She blinked. And then her lip curled slightly—a sign of the pain that came with the release of her venom.
Lewis Adesina’s limp, unresponsive body dropped to lie in a heap on the ground as Mage retracted her fangs, finished. Now sated, her eyes quickly reverted back to their normal coal black as she called, “Someone—a towel, if you please?” Blood covered her chin and hands.
Neither Viggo, Mortimer, nor I moved, our focus riveted on Lewis. Luckily, whatever had kept the Ratheus vampires pinned in the corner no longer held them; Jonah instantly appeared beside her with a white cloth.
“Thank you, Jonah.” She dabbed at her face. “It’s been so long since I’ve changed a human . . . I forgot what it felt like.” With a black high-heeled boot—one of Evangeline’s that, though two sizes too big, I had grudgingly given her—she nudged Lewis in the ribs. A feeble moan escaped him but he remained motionless. Intrigued, I moved closer to inspect our test subject.
“Ah, that’s right. Our Sofie is a virgin!”
I shot an annoyed glare at Viggo, who returned it with a smug grin. He was right, but he didn’t need to announce it. I had never witnessed a transition and, having not experienced the typical method myself, I didn’t know what to expect. Mortimer had described the stages to me once, about seventy years ago. If it worked as planned, Mage’s venom was snaking through every vein in Lewis’s body, spreading like wildfire to infect every inch of him . . .
Suddenly his body spasmed. Like a skittish cat, I jumped back several feet, earning a chorus of chuckles from the audience. I giggled nervously, embarrassed at being surprised so easily but also filled with exhilaration. Few things surprised me. I crouched and crept in slowly again. His eyes were still closed.
“It’s beginning,” Viggo whispered, pointing to a bead of sweat running down Lewis’s forehead. Ten more beads followed in quick succession. Then, with another violent spasm, the half-digested contents of his stomach shot out of his mouth, barely missing me.