The Turn (The Hollows 0.1)

Gally simpered at her. “The bottom of your foot,” he said, and Daniel could tell it was all she could do not to look right this moment. “I’d advise you to get Dr. Daniel Plank back in his bed before he wakes or the curse will be in danger of being picked apart. If not handled correctly, even my memory curses are susceptible to corruption, and after two thousand years of cursing Newt, I’ve gotten to be quite good at them.”

Daniel’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t want to forget, and he looked at the door, knowing he’d never make it.

“Giving away information for free?” Quen mocked, and Gally’s gaze flicked up and back down.

“Oh, it’s not free.” Gally watched him over his glasses. “She’s a third of the way to being mine, and I take care of those who are mine. It’s in my best interests. Is it not, little bird?”

The demon turned his attention to Daniel, and he paled. “I won’t tell anyone,” Daniel said, backing away. “Trisk, I promise. Please. Don’t. I want to help you. Let me help.”

She took his hands, the pain in her obvious. “I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes spilling over. “Daniel, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh my God. I think I’m going to puke,” Gally moaned. “Obscurum per obscurius!”

“No!” Daniel exclaimed, sucking in his breath as the demon’s voice seemed to shift from a sound to a feeling, coating him in a muzzy black blanket that tangled and weaved through his thoughts. No! he silently raged, feeling his body shut down and the ground rush up.

Daniel hit the floor with a shocking thud, the curse a split second behind. He could feel it slither over his skin, and slowly it began soaking in like black fire. He fought it, but the more he struggled, the more he opened himself to its touch, and eventually he forgot what he was fighting . . . and finally, he slept.





13




Kal wove through Global Genetics’ parking lot, his Mustang easing into one of the back spots where the pine trees wouldn’t drop needles or sap on it. The top was down as usual, and the wind making his hair bump around his ears had a decidedly damp feel for so early in the morning. Putting the car in park, he looked past the sprawling white building to the horizon. It was dark with clouds, and he paused, trying to decide if it was worth putting the top up now. If he didn’t, he’d risk not being able to find Trisk’s assistant and having to run out and close it himself if it should rain.

Sighing, he fell on the side of prudence, and after making sure the windows were down he found the right button and pushed it. Pleased, he sat where he was as the state-of-the-art car put its own top up. Things were progressing well. After yesterday’s fallout at the TV station, Daniel was disenchanted and Trisk was his to sway. He might be home as early as next month.

His smile still held the pleasure of that as he glanced at the orange-and-gold orchid flower on the seat beside him. He’d harvested it this morning from his tissue-grafted stock to give to Trisk. Women liked flowers, and Trisk would appreciate that this one was unique in all the world, oblivious to the fact that his attraction to her was as fabricated and engineered as the blossom itself.

“Kal!” someone called, and he looked to see Rick waiting for him on the walk. The living vampire pretending to be a British rock star with his tight suits and long wavy hair gave him the creeps, but Kal could always pin him in a circle if he got blood-amorous.

Still in the car, Kal gave him a wave before putting up the windows. Grabbing his hat and the orchid bloom, he got out, moving slowly in the hopes that Rick would just go in. Eyes on the line the white building cut against the dark clouds, Kal buttoned his suit coat and adjusted his tie. He couldn’t wait until this would be done and the funding for Trisk’s dangerous virus would be reappropriated into his safer theories and he could get to work on what truly mattered. Trisk would be cleaning his flasks and autoclaving petri dishes in a week, her techniques useful in moving his own research forward.

“Morning, Rick,” he said, his pace slow as he tucked the flower into his lapel and wove between the cars. “How was lunch with Heather?”

The tall man hesitated, clearly searching his thoughts for her. “Ah, fine.” Kal could almost see him dismiss the memory of her. “Do you have time this morning for a meeting?”

“Sure. What’s up?” Kal smiled, but his expression stiffened at the barest clatter of pixy wings. Orchid? He’d sent her to watch Trisk, wanting to be sure the woman hadn’t hidden any of her work at home. The pixy waiting for him in the parking lot didn’t bode well.

Rick rocked forward, then back. “Wolfe wants to try out Daniel’s virus in Vietnam, and we’ve got some number-crunching to do. Amounts of, dispersal of, that kind of thing. I don’t have a clue if what Dr. Plank is telling me is right or not. I could use your input.” He smiled a toothy smile. “A courtesy to the visiting doctor.”

Kal slowed to a stop, a row of cars yet between him and Rick. “I’d love to. Why don’t you go on ahead. My shoe unlaced, and I think I left my back windows down. It looks like rain.”