“Oh, very soon. It took some time to get the Council’s agreement for the test, but your interest has come at an opportune time. My two volunteers and their Masters are en route to Berlin.”
“Good. I suppose you don’t have any idea when the Council will sanction its usefulness, if it works?” Brian lifted a shoulder, a shadow crossing his handsome face. “Unfortunately, you are the first to see the usefulness. Most of the Council believes an impetuously marked servant should be killed, to protect our world. However”—he brightened—“I have a theory, based on the mind-link between vampires. I believe it’s possible that the vampire Master or Mistress could impose a memory block by tapping into that region of the brain before the serum is administered. Debra and I have been working up possibilities, and if the Masters coming are willing, we’re going to try it. I don’t see how the Vampire Council could oppose its use then, if we’re successful.”
“Hmm.” Mason propped his crossed arms on the counter. “So the servant would remember nothing.”
“Nothing.”
“And if that’s unsuccessful, do you think putting the servant down is the best course?” Brian lifted his head, met Mason’s gaze. While not the most physically impressive vampire, he wasn’t fainthearted, and Mason appreciated that in him. His hesitation appeared to be due to careful consideration. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “The scientist in me is often far more interested in the challenge of doing the impossible than the implications of overcoming that challenge. I leave that to the politicians, such as yourself.” That smile twisted his lips again.
“Careful, boy,” Mason growled. “Or I’ll snap you like one of those test tubes.”
“I don’t fear you, Lord Mason.” Brian gave him an arch look, reminding Mason as well how often the two of them had communicated during the volatile period when Jacob, Lady Lyssa’s former servant, was transitioning to his new powers. “I know I’m useful to you.”
“Yes, but my temper has been known to exceed my good sense.” Mason settled back on the stool. “What’s the background of the two volunteers?”
“We were very fortunate. Their marking was an impetuous decision made by a pair of forty-year-old vampires who hunt together.
Now their Masters no longer want them. They were contemplating the termination solution, but they were open to another option, if presented, and came to the Council for guidance. The humans are willing, for of course this may be their only chance to get out of this alive.”
“Half of our kind need babysitters,” Mason muttered. “Or an ethics committee.”
“To promote the façade that we’re civilized, the same way humans pretend to be?” Mason studied Brian’s dispassionate expression. “A cynical scientist.” Creating a new slide, Brian shrugged. “Cynics and optimists both consider themselves realists, my lord. Perception is everything. At your age, I expect there are very few methods of brutality you haven’t seen inflicted by the strong upon the weak.” Remembering Jessica, the marks on her back, the scars on her mind, Mason’s fingers tightened on the counter. She’d gotten the tattoo yesterday. He remembered how she’d said she didn’t want him there. Or rather, she did, but she didn’t. He should have been there.
“I’ve studied the mythos of religions,” Brian continued. “The Genesis tree of the knowledge of good and evil was of particular interest to me. At some point, the first humanoid life form took a step out of the natural order, toward the wells of knowledge beyond survival and instinct. They couldn’t resist exploring them, because that is how our brains are wired. Whatever that first humanoid embraced—call it evil symbolized as a serpent or whatever you wish—it infected us. The shadow companion of our so-called advanced intelligence is the temptation of sadism, a compulsion the nonhumanoid world does not seem to experience . . . except as an aberration. Or as the victims of it.”
Brian paused as Debra brought him her results. Mason watched their heads bend together over the data. As she murmured something to him about vectors and isotopes, her hand naturally rested on his thigh. Leaning over him, she pulled a sheet of paper closer to point something out. He nodded, pursed his lips and ran a casual palm down her back, lingering on her hip. “Try this run again.” He indicated something on the sheet. “Use the control group this time.” She nodded, glanced briefly toward Mason and retreated. All servants knew the potential to be shared with another vampire was a courtesy their Master or Mistress might offer, even in an unusual setting such as this. Mason suspected not many vampires were tempted, though, due to the lack of comfortable places to sit, let alone recline. And this lab was a reminder of the weaknesses they faced, as well as the strengths. It was not a place to indulge sensual pleasures, at least not for him.
Watching the two of them together, however, he suspected this was their second home. There likely wasn’t a surface where Brian had not exercised a vampire’s carnal needs on his pretty assistant and servant. Why did the thought irritate him, like a deep, recurring itch he wanted to scratch but couldn’t reach? Or worse, as if he knew that scratching it wouldn’t ease the cause of the abrasion?
Turning his attention back to Mason, Brian added, “I’m not as cynical as I appear, Lord Mason. Vampires acknowledge their need for power and control more honestly than humans do. They embrace it, give it outlets. Humans still try to pretend their core nature is that of some peaceful guru sitting on top of a mountain, calling out ‘ohms’ to the sky. While it is something to strive for, at least vampires recognize it is a highly disciplined state, contrary to our true natures, not a route back to them.” Mason gave him a grim smile. “Know thyself.”
Brian nodded. “Exactly. Anyhow, to more practical matters. If effective, the serum would be viable for use in less than a month, but it will depend on Council. Unless I can figure out a memory block, they are not likely to endorse it.” Mason studied the vials again. “Brian, have you ever employed magical systems in your work?” The vampire scientist paused. Even Debra straightened and turned. Brian’s brow furrowed. “It is not beyond the realm of possibility. I have on occasion sought counsel from wizards, witches and shamans who practice in a discreet way in human society.
I did not clearly state my nature, of course. It would be difficult, therefore, to seek their input on this.”
“Hmm. There’s one who is aware of our existence. His ancestor grandfather taught me some rudimentary things several centuries ago, and we made a pact. He is a powerful wizard.” Mason raised his gaze to Brian. He was not in the habit of revealing his past, or for that matter, his present, to anyone, but this was important. He steeled himself against the invasive curiosity reflected in the other man’s face. “I helped deliver an old enemy into his hands, and he agreed to be of assistance to me if I had need.” Turning Brian’s notebook around, he jotted down Derek Stormwind’s name, the way to reach him and the word Brian would need to gain his help. “Call him, tell him what you seek. He knows a great deal about manipulation of time.”
“He can turn time back?”
“No.” Mason felt an old, dull pain. “But he can give you the ability to forget, if you have the desire to do so.” Brian’s sharp eyes were on his face, but fortunately, the arrival of the Council liaison saved Mason from any further questions. Or Brian from having an appendage removed for asking. The young woman paused in the lab doorway and bowed to Mason. One of Lord Uthe’s attendants, he recalled. “Lord Mason, the Council is ready to discuss your request.”
“Good luck,” Brian offered as Mason rose. Mason glanced at the papers again.
“If it works, and you gain Council agreement, I will want a dose for Jessica.”
“Of course. But human physiology can be inconsistent, so I’ll need some specifics on her beforehand. Have your servant e-mail mine and Debra will tell them what I need. Or you could bring her here for examination.”
“Enrique or Amara will contact you.” Mason headed for the door. He sure as hell wasn’t bringing Jess here. The made vamps of Raithe’s, here to champion him posthumously, were one thing. But there were others here, older vampires adamant that rogue servants should be summarily executed. Their attitude toward him had been that of tense courtesy, but there was no doubt this was a hostile environment.
“My lord.” The woman looked hesitant, sharpening Mason’s gaze upon her. “My lord Uthe also wanted to inform you ahead of time that the Council has agreed Lord Raithe’s defenders could be present for your audience.” She stepped back into the hallway before she could stop herself, a reaction to his expression, he was certain. Allah strike them all down, he was not exceptional at diplomacy on a good day. Uthe wasn’t known for pulling underhanded tricks like this, so he suspected this was Belizar’s doing, using his right-hand vice-chancellor as the fall guy for his own trickery, inciting Mason’s temper.
Mason looked back at the scientist, who had likewise stilled, though he was watching him with less tension than the human women.
“Sometimes, Brian, I think we underutilize those sadistic tendencies. Wiping up the floor with the blood of dissenters is far less painful than trying to reason with them. For me, at least.”
Grim humor flickered through Brian’s gaze. “Another reason I’m not anticipating running into you on top of a mountain chanting, my lord.”
Mason grunted and turned his attention back to the young woman. She’d gone pale as a sheet. “I was speaking in jest,” he said impatiently. “By Allah, the lack of humor in this place is as stifling as all the hot air spouting through it.” As he brushed past her, he thought of Jessica. Except when she was too tightly clasped in the clutches of her fears, she never hesitated to make a wry remark or take an impudent jab at him with that sharp tongue of hers. Whether it was a coping mechanism or not, it was one of her braver ones.
