“It’s his,” Ethan concluded. “What better way to eliminate vampires in your fair city than to turn them all back into humans?”
“Although it doesn’t seem to be working very well,” I said, shifting to glance back at Ethan. “Brooklyn seems worse for wear.”
“So he’s not good at transforming vampires back into humans,” Ethan said. “That perfectly explains why he talked to Alan Bryant.”
“The experiment wasn’t working,” I said. “He needed more work on the biochemistry, which I guess Alan was more than willing to give him.”
“I’m not sure I should bash this guy’s hatred of vampires or applaud his creativity,” Jonah said. “I’d bet my ass there’s a demand for this, although not the way he’s thinking. Who hasn’t imagined being human again, if for no other reason than so we wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit all the time?”
Discomfited by the question—and the questions it raised—I settled back into my seat, and I wondered . . . did I want to be human again?
I’d been made a vampire without consenting to it. Sure, I’d accepted the decision was necessary, but that was an easy choice when it was truly the only option.
But now, there was another option. There was, apparently, an out. A way to leave this life behind and enter my old life. Graduate school. Old friendships. Mortality. No more GP. No more McKetrick.
No more ignoring my first real Valentine’s Day because I’d been pulled into other people’s wars.
My phone rang, interrupting the meditation. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. “It’s Catcher,” I announced to the car, putting it on speakerphone. “This is Merit.”
“I’ve got something.”
“So do I. You go first.”
“Detective Jacobs just called. McKetrick’s trying to make a serum that turns vampires back into humans.”
“We know,” I said. “We just met one of his victims. The transition isn’t quite as smooth as he might have imagined. Did you get any other specifics?”
“Lots of biochemistry I can’t follow. Alan was helping him with the details and his apparent initial failures. At first, McKetrick was talking about giving a choice to humans who’d been changed without their consent or as the result of an attack. But then the motive changed—or he drew back the veil. The rhetoric became stronger, more anti-vampire. And McKetrick’s real motivation became obvious—creating a mass weapon that could turn vampires back into humans en masse. Denying them the choice by making it for them. Apparently, Alan got nervous about the anti-vampire rhetoric and decided he was done.”
“Bryant Industries’ livelihood is built on vampires,” Jonah said. “They disappear, so does Alan’s business.”
“Exactly. But McKetrick kept pushing, and when Alan didn’t help, he stole the information he thought he needed and torched the building.”
“And found some haters to firebomb it and cover his tracks,” I said.
“Indeed. Alan broke contact with McKetrick, so he doesn’t know anything about his actions after the Bryant Industries riot. But he did say he’s helped McKetrick order materials that were shipped to an industrial building near Midway. Former warehouse called Hornet Freight.”
“That feels right,” I said. “Can you ask Jeff to check on it?”
“He’s already on it,” Catcher assured. “I’ll ask him to send the search results to you.”
“Don’t send,” Ethan said. “Deliver. Can you meet us at the House?”
“To quote Jeff, is it secret-mission time?”
“It is,” Ethan said. “And you might bring Mallory as well. I suspect we’ll need all the allies we can get.”
“What’s on the agenda?”
“I intend to disabuse McKetrick of certain notions concerning vampires.”
“That you’re pretentious?” Catcher asked.
“That we’re afraid of him,” Ethan said. “We aren’t. And by the end of the evening, I expect he’ll know it.”
—
Jonah drove us back to the House, and Ethan rewarded the effort—and his crappy night—with a parking spot in the basement.
We took a few moments to regroup. Jonah found a spot from which to call Scott and advise him what we’d learned and planned to do. Ethan and I went upstairs. He went to update Malik; I went to the kitchen for a bottle of blood I suddenly craved.
When I’d finished a pint and a piece of fruit for good measure, I met Ethan at the stairway.
“You’re all right?” he asked, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear.