CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sometime during my dinner with Lucius, Jackson had texted me the address for the research facility in Rancho Cucamonga, along with a number where I could reach Shelby Gutierrez. The next morning, I got in touch with her, and set up an appointment for one o’clock that afternoon. The blood samples had been safely stowed in my refrigerator overnight, and Lucius had already given instructions to Brian that he was to drive me wherever I asked him to.

Luckily, Lewis and Brian had an ice chest stored in their garage, so I just borrowed that to transport the blood. Since it was a warm day, I put it in the back seat of Brian’s Audi rather than the trunk so it could take advantage of the air conditioning as we drove.

Neither of us spoke much on the drive. I kept quiet because I didn’t have any idea how much the semivive knew, and I didn’t want to let something slip that might make Lucius angry. I wasn’t sure of the reason for Brian’s silence, but guessed he was taking his cue from me and had decided it would be better not to talk.

Just as well. I was preoccupied, trying to think of the best way to discuss the project with Shelby without sounding too desperate. I didn’t know how much Jackson had told her, and planned to let her do most of the talking. For all I knew, all I’d actually have to do was drop off the cooler of samples and then beat a hasty retreat back to Pasadena.

Still, because I was there representing Jackson, I’d dug out one of the few professional-looking ensembles I owned, a charcoal gray pencil skirt and fitted pale blue silk blouse, and the gunmetal-gray sling-back pumps that went with the outfit. I hated those shoes because they killed my feet, but I figured a couple of hours in them wasn’t the end of the world. I needed to look like the sister of a senator and a presidential hopeful, and not someone who worked in a New Age shop or something.

The research facility was located in an office park, one of those ubiquitous multi-story developments that had been built in the boom times of the early 2000s, before the stock market crashed and the real estate market collapsed with it. Ever since then, property managers had had a devil of a time keeping them even partly occupied. No wonder Jackson had found a site for the research project so quickly…and probably at a bargain rate.

I told Brian to stay in the car. The old Brian, my friend, would have asked me why he couldn’t come along. The semivive Brian, however, only nodded and turned down the A/C somewhat so it wouldn’t tax the engine too much as he sat there and idled.

There was no lettering on the door to show what the office suite was being used for. Just the number, the one Jackson had given me. Still, I knew this was the place, because as soon as I stepped inside, a slim woman in her late thirties, wearing a lab coat and with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, approached me.

“Serena Quinn?”

I set down the ice chest I’d been carrying and extended a hand. “Yes. You must be Dr. Gutierrez.”

“Shelby, please.”

“Of course.” I stole a quick look around. A receptionist’s desk had been set up in that front room, and there were even potted palm trees standing guard in the corners, but I didn’t see anyone else around.

“I figured ancillary staff would be last,” Shelby said. Her manner was very businesslike. She was attractive in a thin, strained sort of way, as though she never quite got enough sleep and was always focusing on the next problem to be solved. Her glance moved to the ice chest that sat on the commercial-weave carpet next to me. “Are those the samples?”

“Yes.”

“Let me take them.” She bent and grasped the cooler by its handle, and lifted it. “Come on back so you can see the rest of the operation.”

That sounded good. I’d take mental notes, give Jackson a report. He should know what he was getting for his money.

We went down a short hallway, past what appeared to be doors to a restroom and a storeroom. The corridor ended in a pair of metal doors, the glass in them half-covered by stickers with the biohazard warning.

Apparently Shelby wasn’t particularly worried about biohazards, because she breezed right through the doors and led me out into a large, open laboratory with multiple worktables, numerous computers, and an assortment of scientific equipment I barely recognized — test tubes and pipettes, sure, but also larger glass beakers and autoclaves and lord knows what else. Well, that was the whole point of hiring Shelby Gutierrez, so she’d order the necessary items and hire the essential personnel so we could hit the ground running.

Not that I really wanted them to run too fast. Not after what Lucius had told me the night before.

I wondered if there was any way to ask Shelby to focus on isolating the factors in the blood I’d just brought, and worry about the analysis of human blood later. The problem was, I really had no idea how much Jackson had told her, and so I worried about making a misstep and blurting out more than I should. My brother had said he was trusting me to handle this, but he hadn’t given me a whole lot of guidance.

“Here we are,” she said, stopping in front of a large industrial stainless-steel refrigerator that occupied an alcove at the back of the room. She set down the cooler, then carefully drew out the plastic box with its precious cargo of blood samples. Yes, if something happened to them, I supposed I could get Lucius & Co. to provide more, but I really didn’t want to go through that all over again, at least not before I absolutely had to. I assumed at some point I’d have to supply another round of vampire blood, just because of the nature of the tests that would have to be performed. That evil day could be put off for as long as possible, though.

“Um, I’m not sure how much Jackson has told you — ” I began, but Shelby waved a hand.

“All that has been handled,” she said smoothly. “I know that time is of the essence. The entire team will be ready to start tomorrow morning.”

“But — ”

She arched an eyebrow at me. “I know this research is of a delicate nature. Senator Quinn has provided me with very detailed instructions. I do appreciate you bringing the samples to me personally, but there’s very little else you need to do, except wait for us to provide results. Which we plan to do as soon as is feasible, given the constraints of the scientific method.”

“Oh,” I said flatly. I supposed I should have been relieved that I didn’t have to explain anything to her, didn’t have to pick and choose when it came to deciding what to say.

Even so, I felt oddly deflated. Maybe I’d just pumped up this little errand in my mind to make me feel as though I was more important to the project than I really was. In the end, though, I was only the messenger.

A messenger in excruciating four-inch pumps, I thought wryly, looking at the stylish but much more practical kitten heels Dr. Gutierrez was wearing.

“Senator Quinn did tell me that you are to be our prime contact while he is back in Washington.” Shelby paused there and gave me an inquiring look. “I don’t suppose he told you when he would return to Southern California.”

“Not really,” I confessed. “I know he had to go back for a vote, but he didn’t say if he was going to stay longer to conduct any other business, or whether he was just going to turn around and come right back after he’d voted on this particular bill. It could be that he wasn’t sure, and wanted to wait and see what came up while he was in D.C.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” She seemed to hesitate for a moment. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, Ms. Quinn. We know that we are working with extraordinary specimens. Everyone who comes to work here will be required to sign a nondisclosure agreement. Anyone who violates that agreement will have to face your brother’s lawyers. I assume you know what that means.”

Of course I did. The entire Quinn family had access to the very best lawyers money could buy. And, in Jackson’s case, access as well to the sort of people who could quietly make you disappear, although I doubted my brother would stoop to that sort of behavior. The threat of an expensive lawsuit and the knowledge that you’d never be able to work in this town again was probably enough to keep anyone who came to work here on their best behavior.

“Yes, I do,” I said. “And we all are confident that we won’t need to worry about anyone you hire. I only wanted to make sure that you know to give me progress reports as well, so I might pass them on to…well, those who also have a vested interest in the outcome of your research.”

“Oh, I know,” Shelby said. “Senator Quinn was very specific about that. You’re definitely in the loop.”

“Thank you. Then I suppose I’ll head home, and let you get on with it.”

“Yes. Now that I have the samples, I’ll have the first shift come in within the hour.”

Her comment should have surprised me, but I recalled how Lucius had said he wanted to have multiple shifts working here, not only so they might arrive at a solution that much more quickly, but also in case he wanted to visit the facility and perform his own inspections during the evening hours.

“That sounds great. I’ll be sure to let Lu — that is, I’ll make sure to pass that information on to the interested parties.”

My comment aroused a gleam of curiosity in Shelby Gutierrez’s eyes, but I knew she was far too professional to ask me the question that must be eating her up inside.

What exactly is Senator Quinn doing with these blood samples?

I couldn’t answer that. She hadn’t said word one about vampires, which meant that my brother probably hadn’t given her any information about the actual source of the blood her team would be testing. How long he planned for this subterfuge to go on, I didn’t know, but it was Jackson’s place to tell her the truth, not mine.

Since clearly our business was done, I thanked Shelby for her time and headed back out to the parking lot, where Brian now waited outside his car. I supposed my errand had gone on for a little too long, and he’d decided it was better not to overtax the engine by sitting there and idling with the air conditioning on the whole time.

“We can head back now,” I told him, and he nodded.

The Brian I’d known might have complained about making him wait outside in the hot sun, but semivives apparently weren’t programmed to complain. He opened his door, while I did the same on the passenger side of the vehicle. After that he drove out of the office park and headed back to the freeway.

I stared at the traffic that surrounded the car, brooding over what I’d just done. Yes, I knew there wasn’t any way to get around transferring those samples to Jackson’s researchers, but it still felt so…final. I couldn’t take back what I’d just done.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe they’d make far more progress in synthesizing a cure for Addie than they would in creating the serum to make Lucius human again. After all, even though I’d been lumping those two projects together in my mind — possibly because of Lucius’ own concept of quid pro quo when it came to helping my brother — they really were two completely separate lines of inquiry, and possibly not equivalent at all.

About all I could do was hope they wouldn’t succeed with Lucius’ serum first. That would be terrible news for Addie.

And it wouldn’t be all that great for me, either…or the rest of humankind, come to think of it.

I sent a text to Jackson letting him know the samples had been delivered. After that, I got online, once again deploying my VPN and zeroing in on the Humboldt compound by way of Google Maps. Yes, you could call it my version of the bat signal, since I desperately hoped that Felix would get the hint and message me again. But I also wanted to see if I could get close enough to locate the meadow from my vision. If I could prove that was real, then it meant the vision could become reality as well, that what I had just done hadn’t irrevocably set me on the path to a future I didn’t want to see come to pass.

Of course there was no street view available for a location that had no streets. All I could do was focus on the satellite imagery, and get as close in as the website would allow me. I saw vast tracts of forests that seemed to spread for miles. Crazy to think that all this unspoiled wilderness lay in my own home state, a place I tended to view as completely paved over and wall to wall with people, since that was a fairly accurate description of the greater Los Angeles area. Even on the drive out to Rancho Cucamonga, though, I’d seen the foothills and mountains rising up behind the suburban sprawl, and knew that we still had our open areas here.

Nothing like this, though.

I moved my fingers on the track pad, now heading north and east, since there were only hills to the west of the gula compound. All I saw was more forest, and I let out an exasperated sigh. It was possible that the clearing I’d seen was miles and miles away from the Watchers’ homestead, although it seemed strange to drive that far just for a picnic.

Or maybe that green meadow only existed inside my head.

My messaging app binged, and a little window appeared in the lower left-hand part of my laptop’s screen.

Snooping again?

Felix?

Of course. Although it was someone at headquarters who alerted me to the intrusion. I’m in the field down here and don’t have access to all my regular equipment.

Clearly, he had enough to penetrate the VPN I used and to contact me, so he wasn’t entirely without resources. Can I ask you something?

You can ask.

Well, that was helpful. Pushing back my irritation, I typed, Do you know if there’s a clearing anywhere near your compound? A green meadow with wildflowers — when they’re in season, I mean.

Yes. It’s due north of us, about a mile and a half away. It’s a quiet place. A lot of the gula kids go to play there. Why?

Nothing. That is, I think I saw it in a vision. I just wanted to make sure it was a real place.

Oh, it’s real.

The relief that swept through me was so intense, I could only be glad that I was sitting down. Otherwise, my legs might have collapsed beneath me. Foolish? Possibly. After all, merely being told the meadow existed didn’t necessarily mean that my vision would come true. Even so, I felt a little better about life than I had even fifteen minutes ago.

Thanks, I typed. Do you know when you’re going to try to rescue Silas?

Serena, it’s better if I don’t tell you the particulars. I’m sure you’ll understand why.

While I understood the need for caution, I still experienced a stab of irritation. I needed to know. I had to know how much longer I’d have to pretend around Lucius. Yes, I’d been granted a small reprieve, because at least now I knew he wouldn’t try anything until he had his own “cure,” but I absolutely hated being in that house, knowing that Silas was being held prisoner there and that there wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do about it.

Well, you’d better get moving, I told Felix. My brother has the lab set up to analyze vampire blood, and I just took the samples over there this afternoon, so now it’s only a matter of time before they both get what they want.

No reply at first. Was Felix startled by that revelation, or had he paused our conversation so he could consult with one of his superiors?

Then, What are they using the samples for?

Lucius claims the factors in vampire blood that allow them to live forever can be synthesized and used as a cure for various diseases. I’ve had visions where it seems clear that those factors were also being used to manufacture a limited kind of immortality, immortality that’s up for sale to the highest bidder. In return, Lucius gets research into human blood and why it’s so important in keeping vampires alive. The end result is that a serum is developed that allows vampires to live more like humans, including being able to walk in sunlight.

You saw this in another vision?

I saw it in the same vision. Or rather, the same series of visions. These happened while I was being held at Lucius Montfort’s home, which is why Silas didn’t know anything about them.

Then time is definitely of the essence. I know I said it’s important that you not know exactly what we’re planning, but I see now that we don’t have the luxury of caution. That means I need to ask a favor from you.

Anything, I typed, and I meant it. I’d do whatever was necessary to get Silas free.

Is there some way you can get Lucius Montfort away from his house for a few hours? We’ll still have to contend with the semivives, and perhaps the other vampires, but it will be easier to extricate Silas if the master vampire isn’t home.

He wasn’t asking for much, was he? Yes, I’d seen Lucius leave his mansion on a few occasions — to attend the gathering at my parents’ house after my sister Vanessa’s funeral, to go to Jackson’s house in Claremont so we could speak in private — but clearly he preferred to stay put.

Then it came to me. This coming Thursday was my birthday. I’d tried not to think about the day, mostly because this year I hadn’t felt like there was much for me to celebrate, but what better present than to have Silas freed? Surely if I told Lucius and asked him to take me out for a special birthday dinner, he would feel compelled to say yes, if only to maintain the charade that we were a perfectly normal, happy couple who did perfectly normal, happy things together.

And while we were gone, the gula could swoop in and rescue Silas. Any semivives in the way would be collateral damage, although I was secretly glad that Brian spent very little time at the mansion, since he had a charade of his own to maintain, that everything was just fine and he and Lewis hadn’t suffered any disruption of their lives. And if Tristan and Leticia happened to be home — which was doubtful, considering their penchant for going out on their faux hunts every damn night — well, I wouldn’t weep any bitter tears over their loss if they happened to get in the way.

I think I might be able to get him away for a few hours on Thursday evening, I wrote. But I don’t know for sure. I’ll bring it up when I go over there tonight. How do I contact you to let you know if it’s going to happen?

You don’t contact me. Just get back on Google Maps. That’s how I know to reach out to you.

In other words, get out the bat signal. It made sense, though. This way, there would be no evidence that I’d been in contact with any of the gula — no phone number or emails or anything that could lead me to Felix.

Okay, I typed. Usually I get home a little before midnight. I’ll let you know then whether I was able to get Lucius to go for it.

Thank you, Serena.

That was all, but I could tell Felix had signed off. We really didn’t have anything else to discuss until I knew whether I’d be able to clear the coast, so to speak, on Thursday evening.

And if Lucius was recalcitrant, wanted instead to wine and dine me at home?

Then you’ll think of something else, I told myself. Because I wasn’t about to give up, not when I knew the gula were on standby, waiting for the perfect opportunity to rescue their captured comrade.

I’d just have to make sure I didn’t fail them.