Michael pulled the ghost-white sheets off of the fifth-floor operating table and slung the injured Lycan he had found over its reflective surface. The surgical kit hadn't been sterilized since the hospital had been closed, but the risk of death from allergy to silver was much more threatening than the bacteria which might have collected from disuse. He was a young man, barely seventeen by the look of him. He had been turned young, and it was about to become the death of him. His practiced hands used the scissors to cut away the tattered remnants of the boy's shirt, eyes drifting to the six bullet entrance wounds in no specific pattern over his flesh. He took hold of the gleaming tweezers, prying painfully at the half-cauterized wounds. Smoke escaped them as he used his probe to seek out the dangerous missiles. The boy moaned, though the pain had long since knocked him unconscious. He must have been given up for dead by whoever had shot him. Michael wondered who had done the shooting. He hardly knew anymore what the ways of the Underworld had become. Perhaps he would be able to revive this Lycan and get some much-needed information. Thoughts of this cheered him little as he worked diligently, clever fingers doing the work with impressive ease. The creature began stirring, clouded eyes rolling open, closing as quickly as he had glimpsed the shining pain contained in them. The boy suddenly sat bolt upright, scrambling backward in a crabwalk off the table. Michael reached out to steady him, but he shied away. "Kill me now," he said fearfully. "I'd rather die than be an experiment again!" Michael raised his eyebrows, forcing him to sit still.
"You're not going to be an experiment," he said reassuringly. "My name is Michael Corvin. I'm a doctor and I know what you are. Don't panic. Here," he added, passing his unwilling patient a bottle of water. His lips were chapped.
"Corvin…the Hybrid?" he inquired incredulously.
"I see you've heard of me," Michael replied, lips twisting into a wry smile.
"Dude, if I were you, I'd go back where I came from. If Marcus gets his hands n you, you're toast."
"Not if I get my hands on him first," Michael replied reassuringly. "What's your name?"
"Lukan."
"Well, Lukan, I am looking for a friend. A Vampire named Selene. Have you heard of her?" The boy's eyes darkened.
"There isn't a day I don't hear someone mentioning that name. Erika, the Death Dealer bitch, mentioned she had seen Selene two nights ago. Walked right past my pen."
"Pen?"
"We're slaves, test subjects, man! You and that Vampire girl have brought trouble for all Lycans. We're being systematically exterminated while Marcus tries to figure out what the hell happened to him. I assume you'd know. He's a Hybrid like you." Michael swallowed, sickened by this new development.
"I'll take care of you, Lukan. I've got the perfect haven in mind. Hope you don't mind dead bodies." Michael didn't wait for an answer. He picked the boy up like a sack of potatoes and slung him over his shoulder. "You're too weak to walk yet. I think I got all the silver out of you. How'd that little mess happen?"
"Escaped," he explained flatly. "Think I'm the first to do it and get out alive. When they brought in the new subjects, I managed to slip past. A few slugs in the gut was a small price to pay. There are worse things than death." He paused. "Think I can walk on my own," he added.
"Right," Michael replied, setting him on his feet. They made their way down the old fire escape. At hearing footsteps on the first floor, Michael shoved his charge into the corner and cocked his gun. He had learned the good of caution in his travels, and had managed to become more than efficient with a weapon. Of course, Selene's crash course in ballistics had come in handy. The fire escape door banged open. Obviously, the people were comfortable speaking aloud. They thought they were safe.
"Oh shit!" One cursed. It was a female voice. She, like the Lycan he was keeping, sounded little more than a child. "Raze, that's my toe," she whispered urgently.
"Quiet!" a deeper growl replied. "We don't know yet if this place is secure. Will you get back against the wall? I need a clear shot." The voice sounded somehow familiar, but Michael couldn't quite place it.
"Raze?" Lukan shouted suddenly, throwing all caution to the winds. A shot rang out, echoing eerily through the corridor. Calculating the trajectory would hit Lukan squarely, Michael threw himself in front of it, disregarding the searing pain.
"You fucking idiot! You trying to get us killed?" he hissed from his new resting place at the boy's feet.
"Raze is my commander," he replied solemnly, loudly enough for the owners of the approaching footsteps on the landing to hear. Before he knew what was happening, the whole scene faded to black.
"How could you, Raze? The boy shouted your name!" Michael's eyes slowly brought the secret tunnels behind the morgue into focus. He knew instantly where he was. He had been here several times as a student, finding the place a nest of morbid solitude.
"How was I to know it wasn't a Vampire who recognized me? I have a lot of enemies, as you well know." The argument was growing to a fever pitch. Michael instantly recognized Raze upon seeing him. He had been Lucian's most trusted assistant.
"Dammit! Let's stop fighting," a level female voice replied. She sounded extremely defeated, but he knew that voice better than anything else on the planet. That voice belonged to Selene.
"Selene?" he choked, raising himself up onto his elbow. "Selene!" She turned slowly, as though hardly daring to believe that he was really before her.
"How do you feel?" she asked, trying her best to sound unconcerned.
"Ten million times better knowing you're alive. Where have you been?" Selene eyed their company with mixed feelings. He was really there, disheveled in his doctor's garb and his features half-hidden behind his long hair.
"Catarina, Lukan, go get some rest. I'll take door guard," Raze decided suddenly. "You have an hour to talk before I come back for a little chat," he added to Selene in passing. Selene nodded neutrally, waiting until they were alone to meet his eyes. Those poignant blue orbs seemed to swallow her whole. It was instantly obvious his feelings for her had only grown during her absence.
"I've had these visions," she said, gaze unwavering. She didn't move toward him. She merely held her ground, a few feet out of reach. "Why have they been torturing me like this?" she demanded. "Every time I think it's finally happening, that it's real, it all just disappears," she whispered, voice trembling with emotion such as he had never thought capable of Selene.
"I'm not a vision this time, Selene," he said softly in return. "I'm very much alive. Disillusioned, but alive. Here." He held out a hand, which she reached for tentatively. Their fingers intertwined, her grasp tightening as though testing him for truth. He pulled her to him, kissing her roughly with all the passion he had saved up for fifty years. She yielded to him, sighing with pleasure as she sank into his lap.
"Michael," she said suddenly, eyes troubled. "You know what's happening?"
"I've caught snatches from Lukan and what I've Seen."
"What do you mean?"
"The visions, Selene. They're part of the transformation."
"But I'm not a Hybrid," she protested.
"I don't know what is making you see, though I have my theories. You've tasted my blood, Selene. It's possible you contracted my virus."
"But I am the same as I have always been. Nothing else even hints at such a thing," she protested. "If that was the case, what about Lucian?"
"Lucian bit me before I had Vampire blood in my veins. It wouldn't have affected him." Her seriousness had ruined the moment. She was up on her feet, seeking the strong support of the steel walls. She seemed terrified of the possibility. Did his condition frighten her?
'He doesn't understand,' she thought to herself, biting back the wave of tears that threatened to drown her. Her relief at his being alive had made her forget the certainty that her bite had done more than made him Hybrid. Now that he was confirming her suspicions, she was struck with the worry at what she might become. She had wanted this moment with all of her being, still did. But she had hoped for a small scrap of comfort from him, not confirmation that reality threatened to swallow them and their fragile balance of a relationship together. He was walking toward her, and she found herself sinking into the warmth of his embrace. His scent was comforting as she buried his face in her shoulder. She should be content with the fact he had returned alive, against all odds. She had just managed to convince herself that he was all she needed to keep her anchored in the changing world when Raze returned, full of questions and prepared to wage war with Marcus Corvinus.