27

Amelia curled up inside the stolen jacket and stared blankly at the forest closing in on both sides. The van was roaring on its way down the mountain, its lights piercing through the night.

She was nauseous again. The man’s proximity made her uneasy. Thank God he wasn’t chatty. She didn’t dare look at him, afraid he’d take it as a cue to start a conversation. Instead, she focused on his hand gripping the gear lever—the tight tendons, bulging veins, and the octopus tattooed on the back of his hand, its tentacles extending to his fingertips. The car was devoid of personal items, except for a lighter and a pack of Marlboro nestled in the dashboard compartment.

“Are you from Orthopaedics? I think I’ve seen you there,” he said all of a sudden and met her gaze.

A jolt of awareness ran through Amelia – she had been wrong about his species. The colourful gleam in his irises meant that not only could he see better than her in the dark, but he also wasn’t human.

“Yes,” she replied.

“They wanted me to be a doctor, but I told ‘em that stuff’s not for me. Gimme cars, speed… You mind if I light up?” He reached over for the pack of cigarettes. “So, I was part of the security team until recently but… boring as hell. Ah, who is it now?!” He grasped the wheel with one hand and shoved the other in his jacket pocket, fishing out a phone ringing and barking into it, “Yes!”

Amelia held her breath. She had no reason to worry, everything was going according to plan…

“Yes. Got it. Okay.” The man nodded. “All right.” The van slowed down. “Yes, yes, of course.”

The call ended. The van pulled over.

“What’s happening?” Amelia asked.

“We’ll be a while, sister. They forgot to give me something that needed to be driven into the city, so we’ll be going back up. Won’t take more than fifteen minutes.”

A set of brake lights flashed by them as the man shifted into first gear and twisted the wheel.

Amelia opened the door and leapt out. She had been lucky to reach this far, and no way was she wasting her advantage by returning to the Hospital.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you?!” the man yelled after her.

She darted out into the thick forest and didn’t stop running until she’d counted to a hundred. Only then did she dare to glance back. The man hadn’t chased after her. She slid down next to the trunk of a big oak, fear racing through her heart.

Ever since she was a little girl, she knew that fear was usually unjustified and could be overcome by willpower and knowledge. It was a lesson her father had taught her, and one she hadn’t forgotten.

Once, her father had taken her to an adventure park that had been newly set up in town. It wasn’t as impressive and magical as the ones she had seen on TV, but it had a Ferris wheel, a carrousel, a gondola, and even a little rollercoaster. They had experienced every attraction, eaten ice cream, then they’d done it all over again. When they’d been about to leave, Amelia had noticed they’d missed one spot – the Haunted House.

“Do you want to go?” her father had asked.

Amelia had inspected the house covered in spider webs with red-stained windows and a crumbling fa?ade. The front door was hanging on one hinge, open wide enough to hint at the darkness inside. A woman in a black coat and a tall pointy hat beckoned passers-by to “take a stroll through her lovely home, if they dared” and then chuckled. In the eyes of a five-year-old child, it had been frightening to behold.

Amelia had shaken her head. “I don’t want to go.”

“Why not?”

“Because… I’m afraid.”

Her father’s forehead had wrinkled. “Of what?”

“Ghosts…” Amelia had whispered as if the mere mention of them would attract them. “And bogeymen.”

“Ghosts and bogeymen? Where did you hear that nonsense?”

Her grandmother had told her the stories, but Amelia didn’t share that with her father because she knew he’d get upset. So, she lied. “Kindergarten.”

“Honey bear…” He’d leaned closer. “Those are just stories to scare naughty children. You’re too old now to be impressed by them.”

She gazed up at him. “Really?”

“Sweetheart, lack of education, stupidity, ignorance – those are the things you need to be afraid of. Not some paranormal nonsense, created for entertainment and marketing. It’s all just an illusion.”

She hadn’t understood any of what her father had said that day, except that ghosts and bogeymen were an illusion. To prove it to her, he’d made her go into the Haunted House, and she’d walked out no longer afraid.

That lesson served her well now. Amelia dashed past the trees, without paying attention to the gloomy shadows and the noises of the night. If she allowed herself to give in to her fear, every branch could turn into the man with the octopus tattoo.

Or Mikhail.

She had noticed how his eyes changed colour when he talked about his Hospital. To save the immortal species was not just a selfless mission for him, it was much more. She couldn’t tell how much more, but while he hid behind the slogan of salvation, he was ready to do anything to achieve his goal.

The further she ran, the more convinced she became that she had been right to take the risk and flee him, but her sense of direction only grew worse in the depths of the forest. Even her only landmark – the slope of the hill – hindered her progress, because she slipped and fell twice.

It didn’t take long for her to figure out that her only chance to survive was to return to the asphalted road. She marched in the direction she thought was correct, listening for the sounds of passing cars.

She deliberated for a while, but didn’t dare hitchhike. Dave hadn’t mentioned anything about how long the perfume lasted, and she had already emptied the bottle. What if they sensed that she was human?

Her eyes darted around. The darkness was deepening. Well, I could always say I’m part of the staff at the Hospital and I got lost. Mikhail did mention he has humans working for him.

Exhaustion decided for her. She was going to hop into the first car that drove past.

Half an hour later, she was still wandering through the thicket. Her soles were numb and the stolen jacket was doing very little to fight off the angry gusts of the wind. A rustling noise behind her made her jump.

She turned and scanned the surroundings. Two glowing dots stared back at her, belonging to a massive silhouette looming about thirty feet away, its outline barely discernible in the darkness.

An animal.

Before she could choose between fleeing through the forest or slipping away unnoticed, a wolf emerged from the shadows. A quick and desperate look around informed her that there was nothing she could use to ward it off.

The wolf approached.

Eye contact . She had to maintain eye contact.

She held the predator’s gaze. They were alive, and impatient, like those of the man with the octopus tattoo. Or Mikhail’s. She remembered what he’d told her about the man with the cane they met at the rehabilitation centre. He could turn into a bloodthirsty wolf in a heartbeat…

It was worth a try.

“Hello!” she yelled in the direction of the wolf. “I imagine you’re out for your evening stroll. Me, too, but I got lost… I’m a vampire, by the way.”

A chill gripped her when one giant paw inched forward.

“All right, I… I will leave you to it.” Amelia took a slow step back, refusing to let him out of her sight.

The wolf wrinkled his snout. She continued to back away.

The animal leaned forward and growled.

That was when two other wolves flanked the one at the front. She took a deep breath and started counting.

One, two, three. Numbers, wolves, inches, seconds…

Something inside her unlocked a drawer of information in her brain and tried to hint at what she should do.

She flung her hands around and let out a blood-curdling yell. The wolf in the middle whimpered and scampered into the bushes, followed by the others.

Amelia didn’t dare to move, but…

She had scared them!

A large gulp of air filled her lungs with relief.

“You’re doing good.”

She whirled around at the familiar voice. It can’t be! But, sure enough – casually leaning against the trunk of a large oak, was none other than Mikhail. Darkness veiled his face, but she could never mistake his voice for another’s.

“Yelling in an attempt to scare a wolf away may not be such a bad idea,” he said. “If there’s one wolf. If he’s not too hungry. If he’s too weak. But a pack? Might as well just invite them to feast on you.”

Had he been there the entire time?

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

Was he the one who had forced the wolves to flee?

“The wolf is a clever animal,” he said. “He senses your fear. Your quickened heartbeat. Your short breaths. The panic overwhelming you. Your intent to run.” Is he still talking about the wolves or about himself? “But I’m too tired for this game today.”

Did that mean he was going to leave her alone?

Mikhail took a step closer, his movements kind of stiff.

“What do you mean, you’re…” Weakness consumed her all of a sudden. “Y-you’re too tire—” Mikhail was standing in front of her. “What’s going….” She fell asleep before she could finish.

***

When she woke up, she was lying in an unfamiliar bed, covered with the stolen jacket. Her burning soles, wrapped tightly in her running shoes, reminded her of the scurry through the forest and the wolves. The sugary taste in her mouth confirmed her suspicion that Korovin had drugged her again.

She struggled to get out of bed. Her muscles pained her as though an elephant had sat on top of her while she had been sleeping.

There was nothing else in the room, except for the bed and two doors, one of which led to a small bathroom, and the other to a gloomy hallway. Gone were the purple colours of her previous cell, replaced by only wood, and beige. The only window told her it was night.

She stepped out into the hallway, glancing at the quiet space of closed doors and dark shadows. At the far end, an arch led to a wider antechamber. Amelia had taken a couple of steps towards it when rattling attracted her attention in the opposite direction. Thinking the noise came from one of the doors, she cautiously approached to investigate. The door was cracked open and a light poured from the small opening. She pushed it and walked in.

Mikhail stood in front of a mirror, his back to her. Before him was a small cupboard with a sink. He was shirtless, wearing only black trousers, his feet bare. At first, Amelia started walking away, but then she noticed the bruises and wounds that covered his entire back, from his neck down to the belt on his pants.

As Mikhail moved his arm, Amelia traced the motion of his right shoulder blade with her eyes. Just below it was a cut, at least six inches deep. He opened the tap and placed his hand under the running water, which instantly turned red.

She glanced around – a spacious bathroom with a shower. The white tiles had red smears all over them. Used pieces of gauze were discarded on the rim of the sink. Clothes stained with blood were piled up in the farthest corner of the room. In the cupboard were tools she recognised. A needle holder, forceps, thread… Was he stitching himself up?

He looked up in the mirror and their eyes met. The contact made her feel like she was caught doing something wrong. A shiver ran down her spine.

“I’ve been expecting you,” Mikhail uttered in the quietest voice she’d ever heard him use. “From now on, you will live here.”

“I don’t… For how many days have I been here?”

“An hour and a half.” He broke eye contact and grabbed a cotton pad. His back hid his movements, so Amelia couldn’t see what he was doing with it.

“Are you hurt?” Dumbest question ever. He was clearly hurt. In multiple areas. “I could help.”

“I’m good.” He reached out for the needle holder. “You already saw your room. Your stuff will be here soon.”

“I don’t have stuff. And I meant it – I could help you with the stitching up.”

“No need.” He glanced at her in the mirror. “Why did you try to run away? Did you forget we had a deal?”

Amelia figured it was pointless to lie. “I don’t believe you’ll do as you promised.”

Mikhail’s jaw tightened. “Do you know how careless it was of you to take a stroll through a building full of immortals? Or do you have a death wish?” Though he continued speaking in an even tone, something about his expression warned her she was on thin ice.

“Death wish? I was trying to save myself.”

“Right. Save yourself.” His tone changed, but he lowered his gaze again, and she couldn’t decipher his mood. “You know what I find interesting? This hospital has existed for decades and there has never been a single murder here. And yet, you show up and now there are two .” Mikhail raised his voice at the end, forcing her to take a step back.

Murders? She frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He faced her. “A thousand-year-old witch was decapitated a couple of weeks ago. Her head was delivered to me in a box at the gate. Today, a chambermaid was killed. Strangled. And all of this started after the Oracle gave me an unclear message, connected to you, which led to a series of events that made me bring you here.”

His words reached her ears, but they didn’t actually register. Mainly because once Amelia caught sight of his chest, her knees gave out. “You…”

The nausea came back tenfold when she stared at the four deep cuts along his torso. Old scars. From his left collarbone, through the chest and to the area of his liver. They were the same scars she had dreamed of. How was this possible?

“Or maybe I’m wrong and you have nothing to do with any of it. Maybe you really are as useless as you claim to be.”

His words hit her like a slap across the face, snapping her out of her stupor. “I never asked to come here. I never came here. You had your goon abduct me!”

“You know what, Amelia?” Mikhail’s expression was stone-cold. “I don’t want you here, either. But I have to heed the Oracle’s words.”

She rushed out of the bathroom and back into the room she had woken up in. Her heart was pounding, and she couldn’t get the sight of his scars out of her mind. She closed her eyelids and envisioned them.

Mikhail had truly experienced everything she had witnessed – the betrayal, the pain.

The loss.

It was something she could easily relate to.

Not a man, but a beast, Amelia.

He had been rude and had forcefully taken her to the Hospital once again. What was she supposed to do now that he would probably be more cautious around her? Now that she had proved her dreams meant a lot more than she had suspected? Should she tell him or should she stay quiet, hoping that he would accept she wasn’t connected to his cause – or the insane chain of events he had just brought up?

But what if I’m connected? Could she simply leave this place and forget about the suffering of hundreds of creatures? A few hours ago, she had believed she had the answer, but now, her stomach somersaulted at the thought.

She recalled the memory of her father. That day, many years ago, when Amelia and he had edged into the Haunted House, her father had held her hand the entire time. With confidence and authority, he had explained the secrets behind every ‘horror’ they’d encountered. The bogeyman behind the prison grid? Just an actor with great makeup and an excellent costume. The screams echoing through the space? Simply a recording, blaring from large speakers. The blood-stained claw marks on the walls? Paint. And for the grand finale, darkness was used to amplify the effects and enhance the overall ambiance.

“Don’t be one of those silly girls who believe in everything they hear and see,” her father had said with annoyance.

His work as a lawyer made him suspicious of everything and his forthright character left him unwilling to accept anything beyond the conventional. He had instilled his ‘common sense’ in Amelia and, over the years, she had stopped believing in bogeymen, ghosts, and all the other creatures her grandmother had told her about.

How she needed to hear her father’s explanation for everything that was happening now.

How would her old-fashioned, stubborn father, with his round glasses and classic grey suit, explain Mikhail Korovin?