SIXTEEN
As a result, at night, when fully nourished,
subject has the strength of 20 men (bench press = 4,000 lbs.); can
run at speeds up to 75 mph, and leap from a standing position
roughly 24 feet into the air. Subject does not need to breathe, as
long as he has fed recently. He can store oxygen in the blood he
consumes for later use. In one test, subject stayed submerged
underwater for over an hour.
—BRIEFING BOOK: CODENAME: NIGHTMARE PET
The doctor’s offices looked like an
enormous Art Deco mausoleum. Cade and Zach walked through glass
doors that swung between the statuesque legs of an idealized,
sexless human form that was molded into the building’s façade.
Tasteful pewter letters spelled out THE PROMETHEAN CLINIC—DR.
JOHANN KONRAD, M.D.
The lobby was empty, except for the high-gloss slab
of a reception desk and the sculpted blonde behind it. She smiled
at them as they approached.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“We need to see Dr. Konrad.”
Her smile disappeared at Cade’s tone.
“I’ll have to see if he’s in, Mr. . . . ?” She let
the question hang there.
Cade flipped out the wallet with the DHS
creds.
She only gave them a glance, then handed them
back.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “These could be faked. We
can’t let just anyone back into the offices. We have a problem with
the paparazzi, you know.”
Cade leaned closer to her. It was only a slight
movement, but the receptionist rolled her chair back from him, her
eyes widening.
Zach decided it was time to play good cop. “We
thought it might be more convenient for him if we talked to him
now,” he said. “You know. After business hours.”
That didn’t help. “Actually, we’re fully booked,”
she said.
Zach looked around the empty lobby. “Right
now?”
She nodded. “Dr. Konrad’s patients appreciate a
certain flexibility in his schedule. Many people are still very
judgmental about aesthetic enhancement.”
“You mean plastic surgery?”
She relaxed a little. “As the doctor always says,
we don’t perform surgery on plastic. We allow human beings to reach
their full potential.”
Zach gave her his best aw-shucks grin. “Well,
clearly the doctor did his best work on you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Actually, I’ve never been a
client.”
“Oh.” Zach didn’t know what else to say.
“Thank you both for stopping by,” she said. “If you
gentlemen would like to call and make an appointment—”
“Enough,” Cade said. “Get him out here. Now.”
Again, Cade barely raised his voice, but she pushed
her chair back even farther.
“Just one moment,” she said, and hurried through a
door behind her desk.
“Smooth,” Zach said, as they stood there. “Couldn’t
you hypnotize her or something?”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“I thought vampires were all sex gods with the
ladies.”
Cade looked at him. “What gave you that
idea?”
“Uh . . . late-night TV, mostly . . .”
“Humans are our food. Do you want to have sex with
a cow?”
“Touché. So what do we do now?”
“We wait.”
The door opened again. The receptionist was back,
flanked by a massive escort wearing a dark suit over a T-shirt.
Security.
“They showed me some phony badges,” she said,
pointing at Cade and Zach. “Get them the hell out of here.”
The huge man came around the desk. Zach moved out
of his way. Cade didn’t.
He looked down at Cade. He was nearly a head
taller, and built like the door of a bank vault.
Cade glanced at the man’s hands. Knuckles
distended. Layers of scar tissue. Mallet fingers, the third joint
flopping dead and nerveless, the result of too many bad
breaks.
The man was a boxer. A brawler. He was already half
into his fighter’s crouch, ready to bring his dukes up and go ten
rounds.
He was no threat.
“Time to go, little man,” he said, putting a hand
on the vampire’s shoulder to march him out the door.
Zach blinked, so he missed it.
Cade reached over and gave an effortless tug, and
suddenly, the goon was on the floor, screaming in pain, his
shoulder dislocated and twisted.
Cade looked back at the receptionist. “Dr. Konrad.
Please.”
Zach turned to see the big man get up on one knee,
his face now full of rage.
“Stay down,” Cade said, without looking.
The man reached inside his jacket pocket, gripped
something there. Cade still wasn’t looking, and Zach figured it
out—
He was about to say the word “gun” when Cade moved.
Zach saw it this time.
A casual sweep of Cade’s hand before the weapon
could clear the man’s holster.
The plateglass window, shattering as the big man
flew through it.
The receptionist screamed, but she was late to the
party. Cade stood calmly. The big man was an inert lump on the
pavement outside. Her wail died away almost comically. There was
only the sound of the broken glass falling out of its frame.
The receptionist huddled against the door.
“I’ll call the police,” she said, nearly
shrieking.
“That’s not what your master instructed you to do,
is it?” Cade said.
She looked at him, and Zach recognized the panic in
her eyes. He’d felt it himself. She was about to start gibbering
and crying.
The intercom on her phone beeped to life. A
voice—deep, cultured, very slightly accented—came through the tiny
speaker.
“That’s enough, I think,” it said. “Laura, please
show our guests back to my office.”
Cade looked around, then up. Zach saw what he was
looking at: a camera, set into the corner of the ceiling.
“Hello, Konrad,” Cade said.
“Good evening, Cade,” the voice on the intercom
replied. “You could have called first.”
THEY LEFT the security man outside. The
receptionist led them back into the clinic, casting nervous glances
over her shoulder.
They passed a number of doors to private exam
rooms.
“How did you know he was here?” Zach asked.
“I could smell him.”
Ask a stupid question, Zach thought.
They were at a set of double doors at the end of
the hall. The receptionist opened them and hurried out of their
way.
Konrad sat behind a steel slab of a desk with
nothing on its surface but a computer that looked like a
sculpture.
Despite snow-white hair, he didn’t look much older
than Zach, with handsome features set in a welcoming smile.
If he was nervous about them being here, he didn’t
show it.
The receptionist, however, danced from foot to foot
like she had to go to the bathroom.
“You can go, Laura,” Konrad said. “Please have
someone fix the window. Tonight. Thank you.”
She rushed out, pulling the doors closed behind her
hard enough to slam them.
Konrad shook his head. “I hope this was necessary.
You frightened the poor girl half to death.”
“I have questions for you, Konrad.”
The doctor rolled his eyes and smiled at Zach.
“He’s always like this. No social graces whatsoever. I am Johann
Konrad. A pleasure to meet you.”
He stepped from behind the desk, hand extended to
Zach.
Zach moved to take it, more reflex than anything
else. Cade blocked him.
“You don’t need to know his name,” he said to
Konrad. He turned to Zach. “And you should know the first time we
met, Konrad was working for the Nazis, spreading a fatal variant of
the flu virus by handshake.”
Zach put his hands behind his back. Konrad
laughed.
“What can I say? I was young and impressionable.”
He looked at Zach. “We all make mistakes.”
“Oh, sure,” Zach said. “You were just experimenting
with Nazism.”
Konrad’s smile faded.
“What do you want?” Konrad asked, returning to his
seat.
“Unmenschsoldaten,” Cade said. “Have you
been working on them again?”
Konrad looked genuinely surprised. “What? No, of
course not. You know the terms of my agreement. I am forbidden from
. . . ‘experimenting’ anymore, as your friend puts it.”
“You haven’t been approached by anyone for the
methods?”
“Absolutely not.”
“No one has accessed your records here at the
clinic, or spoken to you about the process?”
“I don’t even keep those records anymore. The only
place they exist is with your government. And we both know that’s
not as secure as it should be. What was the name of that man in
1957? Carlton?”
“We dealt with him,” Cade said. “Who else has
access to your files?”
Konrad laughed. “Who doesn’t? This is the age of
the Internet, Cade. There are no secrets anymore. I have seen all
of the Nazi archives displayed on conspiracy sites. It’s only the
public’s disbelief that keeps any first-year medical student from
reproducing my work.”
“That’s not true,” Cade said. “Your creations only
really work with the Elixir. Which only you know how to
create.”
“We’re going in circles here. I gave the formula to
your government as part of our agreement. You know this.”
“And you still know how to make it.”
Konrad looked frustrated. “But I wouldn’t. That’s
my point. I have not broken our deal. I am a man of my word.”
Cade looked at him for a long moment. Stalemate.
Even Zach could see it. They had no way of disproving anything
Konrad said.
“I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Cade finally
said. “It’s pounding like you just ran a marathon. Ever since I
walked into the room.”
Konrad’s face flushed. His urbane demeanor
dissolved into a scowl.
“That’s very impressive, Cade. And I should care .
. . why?”
“Just to let you know I can hear your heart,
Konrad. And I could end that sound without too much effort at
all.”
Cade turned and started for the door. Zach guessed
they were finished.
“Cade,” Konrad said. “Whatever else you think of
me, you should know I am grateful for my new life. This is the land
of second chances, after all.”
“It wasn’t up to me,” Cade said. “I wanted to kill
you.”
Konrad smiled at Zach, seemingly calm again. “You
see what I mean about him having no social graces? Honestly, who
says things like that?”
Cade turned and faced the doctor.
“I know you,” he said. “I know that whatever else
you say, you will never give up playing God. You don’t even want
to. Someday, you’re going to overplay your hand. And I will be
there.”
Konrad gave Cade the ugliest look Zach had ever
seen.
“It must be so frustrating for you,” Konrad said.
“To always be sent on these little errands. And to know they will
never let you touch me.”
Cade didn’t respond. Zach followed him out the
door.