The Vampire with the Dragon Tattoo

Chapter Eleven

The following night at five thirty, Dougal met Abby in her office.

“I started developing this drug six months ago,” Abby said, showing him a vial containing an ominous green liquid. “It’s designed to help the Vamps defeat bad vampires by simply taking over their minds. You wouldn’t have to fight them if you could order them to lay down their weapons and surrender.”

Dougal nodded. “A good idea.” He wouldn’t have lost his hand four years ago if he had been able to order those five Malcontents to stop.

“We’re still working on it,” Abby continued. “But it occurred to me that a diluted version might help you. If we boost your mind-control ability, then we could increase your control of the prosthesis. Do you want to try it?”

“Do I really need to? My hand worked perfectly well last night.”

“But it malfunctioned for two nights before that.” She held up the green vial. “This could help you. Are you willing to test it for us?”

He frowned. “Are ye saying it has never been tested?”

“No, afraid not.” She gave him a wry look. “We don’t keep any vampire lab mice here. But if it makes you ill, you’ll recover during your death-sleep, right?”

“Ye’re no’ a verra good salesman, are ye?”

She smiled. “Just trying to be honest. And I honestly do think this will increase your mind control and help you control your hand.”

He hesitated.

“If it works, I can approve you for fieldwork and have Angus put you on the mission roster,” she added.

Now that was a better sales pitch. “Ye’ve diluted it?”

“Yes. We don’t want you controlling all the Vamps in the vicinity, just your hand.”

He still hesitated.

Abby propped her elbows on the desk and leaned toward him. “As far as I can tell, the prosthesis works fine. The problem is your control, and it’s being affected by your emotional state. If you prefer, I could have you talk to our psychologist, Olivia—”

“I’ll take the drug.” There was no way he would discuss his emotions with Robby’s wife. His feelings were personal. His past was private. He didn’t share it with anyone.

“All right.” Abby filled a syringe with the greenish liquid. “It will take some time before you’ll feel the effect. Twenty or thirty minutes.” She gave him a wry smile. “Do you want to roll up a sleeve or lift your kilt?”

He snorted, then unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his sleeve. She wiped his arm with antiseptic, then plunged the needle in.

“That’s it.” She fixed a Band-Aid over the spot. “Just go about your normal routine and let me know how it works. Oh, and let me know if you have any strange side effects.”

“Now ye tell me about strange side effects?”

She grinned. “I have to get back to work now. Good luck!” She hurried from the room.

He stepped into the hallway, rolling his sleeve back down. His normal routine. That was easy enough. He checked the office, and Freemont was there, manning the desk, so Dougal offered to do a perimeter check.

He exited the building through the side entrance and strode around the parking lot. In a few hours, once all the mortals were gone, he would zoom about at vampire speed, but for now, he kept a normal pace. The mortals were starting to get off work, and some were returning to their cars.

He headed into the woods. The crisp autumn air felt refreshing against his face. It wouldn’t be long before the first snow, and he looked forward to it. He hadn’t seen snow at all during the four years he’d spent in Texas.

Was the drug taking effect? He curled his prosthetic hand into a fist, then relaxed it. There was no difference that he could tell. The real test would be if he could control it with Leah in the vicinity.

He headed back toward the building, walking past the gazebo, which was glittering with white Christmas lights. A sharp pain shot through his skull, surprising him with its intensity. He shook his head, and it cleared.

As he crossed the basketball court, another pain pierced his head, shooting from his temple to the base of his skull. He halted, squeezing his eyes shut. Damn. Was this one of the blasted side effects? If so, he wouldn’t be taking the drug again.

He took deep breaths, waiting for the pain to ease.

When he opened his eyes, he spotted a group of female employees in the cafeteria. Mortals. Ten of them. He watched them through the window. Apparently they had stayed after work to have a party. A birthday party, from the looks of the big cake skewered with candles. Another table was covered with brightly colored gift bags. The sound of the women’s laughter and chatter was so loud that he could hear it outside. There were times when superior hearing was not a blessing.

One of the ladies lit the candles, and just as they started singing the happy birthday song, another pain screeched across his brain.

“Och.” He squeezed his eyes shut. Stop!

The singing stopped.

He opened his eyes and saw that the ladies were all staring at each other with confused looks on their faces.

Had he done that? Was this another side effect? The women continued to stare at each other while the small candles burned down, the flames sputtering in the icing. Blow them out!

All ten women leaned over the cake, huffing and blowing.

He winced. Abby had certainly managed to increase his mind control. With the flames blown out, the women stood in a circle around the cake, staring at it. Were they awaiting further orders?

Ye can cut the cake now.

All ten women made a grab for the cake slicer, but when one claimed it, the others grabbed plastic knives, and they all chopped away at the cake, hacking it into pieces.

He grimaced. What a bloody mess. Go on as ye normally would.

They stopped and looked aghast at the slaughtered cake.

He slipped inside, and they gave him a suspicious look. “Excuse me. Just passing through.” He hurried through the cafeteria doors.

Halfway down the hall, he wondered how powerful his mind control was. How far could it reach?

Crow like a rooster.

His superior hearing caught the sound of crowing all over the facility.

Damn. The crowing continued. Stop it! Silence.

He headed for the lab. Maybe Abby could give him an antidote.

He strode into the room. Leah was there, seated next to Abby and Laszlo. His heart squeezed at the sight of her, and he wondered once again if she had read his note.

“Yes,” she replied, then winced.

She had. His prosthetic hand clenched. Relax, he ordered it, and it opened. Then he noticed that Leah and Abby had sprawled in their chairs. They had relaxed!

With a small shock, he realized he could control Leah if he wanted to. He could order her to fling herself into his arms and kiss him.

When she jumped to her feet, he forced those thoughts to a screeching halt. Doona move. “Abby, there’s something wrong.”

“Tell me about it.” Laszlo twisted a button. “Just a few seconds ago, they were both crowing like roosters. The whole building seemed to be crowing.”

“That was my fault.” Dougal looked at Abby. “Can I see you in private?”

She and Leah both walked toward the door.

“Nay, no’ you.” He looked at Leah, but both women stopped. They were obeying his speech, too? He supposed that made sense, since he had to think to talk.

“You. Abby.” He pointed at her. “I need to talk to you in yer office.” She headed out the door.

“And you.” He pointed at Leah. My God, ye’re beautiful. I could kiss you all—

Her eyes widened.

He wiped those thoughts clean. “Take a seat.”

She sat on the floor.

“Nay! In yer chair. Ye can work now. If ye like.”

She moved to her chair and went back to work.

Laszlo frowned. “How are you controlling them? And why?”

Dougal grimaced. “ ’Tis a long story. I’ll take care of it.” He hurried to Abby’s office and found her sitting at her desk, frowning at the vial of green liquid.

She looked up. “I guess we discovered one of the side effects.”

He nodded. “It dinna affect Laszlo?”

“No.” She gave him an annoyed look. “It was only the mortals who were crowing. I’ll ask Gregori to do damage control and erase the memories of those who were affected.”

“Can ye stop what’s happening to me?”

She sighed. “There’s no antidote. But I gave you a small amount. It should wear off in a few hours. Most of the mortal employees will be leaving soon, so . . .”

“But you and Leah will still be here.”

Abby nodded. “It might be better for you to keep some distance from us. And don’t think about us. Occupy your mind with something else for a few hours.”

He groaned. Telling him not to think about Leah was a sure way to make him think of her.

“Have you tried using your prosthesis?” Abby asked. “Maybe you could type a report or something. It would occupy your mind, and we could see if you have better control.”

“I’ll think of something.” He left her office, trying not to think of Leah. What else could occupy his mind? And test his manual dexterity?

His pipes. He’d left his Uilleann pipes at the townhouse. In a matter of seconds, he had teleported to the basement, collected the pipes, and teleported back to the grounds at Romatech.

Doona think about Leah. He strode into the woods to where a bench was located underneath a large oak tree. There he sat and situated the bag beneath his elbow. By moving his arm, he would pump air into the bag. He’d start off with something slow so he’d have a better chance at moving his prosthetic fingers in time with the music.

Doona think about Leah.

The pipes filled the air, their wailing cry echoing through the woods. God, how he had missed that sound. And such a sad song. That was the problem with slow music. It was so forlorn that it could make your heart break with the sadness of it.

Leah, I’ve waited so long for you.