8

Amelia’s screams rattled the Hospital walls, in tune with the roaring thunder outside. Mikhail left her to it.

Still in his manticore body, he trudged down the corridor. If he changed to his human form, he’d be naked. The transformation only affected his natural flesh, but it couldn’t materialise clothing out of nowhere to cover his body after the fact. Normally, he was much better prepared, but in this instance, he hadn’t been.

Besides, why loiter around like a human, when a manticore is much more intimidating?

Unseen, he climbed to his lair on the twentieth floor, his thoughts whirling.

Tonight, he had lost control of what lived inside him. It was an inseparable part of him – it was him. Two forms, two halves of an entity that transformed from one shape to the other. The human side was stronger, more domineering. Without it, the animal was nothing, except primal instincts and superficial needs.

What had Amelia done that had triggered him so much?

A sigh of discontent escaped his lips. His impatience, rudeness, and short temper compelled him to insist on everything happening according to his specifications, and without delay. Not everyone was amenable to that. Which was why whenever he needed someone to cooperate, he sent in Viktor Volk. The lycanthrope’s friendly demeanour could win anybody’s trust.

It had been foolish of Mikhail to take the task of interrogating Amelia upon his shoulders. Sure, he didn’t see himself as a monster or a criminal. He didn’t hate humans, or any other species, for that matter. In the past, he had tortured and killed, but not once had he felt satisfaction in these acts. He’d only been doing what needed to be done back then, much like now. For the greater good.

And yet, he was questioning his motives when it came to her. Why was he bothering with all this? He could have run off to some godforsaken mountain village years ago, far away from any immortal troubles.

He skimmed a hand across his chest. The Oracle might have been wrong that he was struggling to save himself, but she’d been right about his reasons – they weren’t entirely selfless. Saving as many creatures as he could was an act of revenge. But it was also a way to redeem himself. Any other path chosen would have wreaked havoc and caused more deaths. In creating the Hospital, Mikhail had opted to become a saviour.

But was it necessary to turn in front of the mortal, on top of kidnapping her? Had there been any witnesses, Mikhail could have been put on trial by the Tribunal for threatening the confidentiality of the immortal world.

As he reached his bedroom, he took a few deep inhales and his animalistic features disappeared, giving way to his human appearance once more. He threw on some new clothes, grabbed a cell phone from the desk drawer and dialled Stella, the head housekeeper. He asked her to go to Amelia’s room, gather the pieces of his clothes, find his old phone and keys that were scattered somewhere in there, and check if Amelia’s heart was still beating.

Because, fuck , he was the kind of guy who liked to scare helpless women out of their wits…

Just before he had rushed out, he had stared at her with his golden eyes, which he knew changed colour with his transformation. The last image he had was of her face, paler than the snow that would soon envelop the entire mountain. Her body had frozen, arms bent at the elbows with palms touching in front of her chest as if in prayer, mouth gaping in a wide O. And those horrified screams…

Mikhail had glanced around for his lost keys but hadn’t found them. Given Amelia’s state, he knew that getting any closer could have caused her to have a heart attack. And he still needed her alive since the Oracle had sent him to help her – not kill her. So, he’d decided to abandon the keys for the time being. The room couldn’t be opened from the inside anyway, even when unlocked. The possibility of her noticing the keys and coming to her senses fast enough to take them and run away was slim to none. Besides, where would she go?

Uncertainty rose within him at the thought, nagging him. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to double-check?

The spare cell phone he’d just fished out of the drawer buzzed – Zacharia, again. Mikhail rejected the call and headed back towards Amelia’s room.