Words of Power (Alice Gray Book 3)

9

Intuition told me Jonathan Device lay under those rags. Well, intuition or the constant stream of profanity interjected with my name every few words. Somehow, his voice was melodious even in this decrepit state.

"Alice?" Jonathan's head twisted up to see me, the tiniest hint of lucidity in the crazed grimace that distorted his handsome face. Then the stream of his jumbled speech got lost in his madness again.

I crept closer, trying to make out his words. He fell silent, and when he looked up, the glint of sanity flashed again in his hazel eyes. Stronger this time.

My body vibrated with fear at the hatred that shone there.

Suddenly it was gone, but what replaced the rancour was no better. As I looked into my father's eyes, I almost lost myself in the deep pools of despair.

"Save me," he hissed, "for all our sakes."

"What?"

Jonathan's head tilted up, marking some noise in the distance. I mimicked his movements trying to catch the same sound.

Nothing.

"I don't have long," he rasped. "They're coming."

"Who?" I asked, leaning further down to hear him.

Jonathan looked down, still as a stone statue.
When he raised his head once more, crimson beams burnt my retinas. He lunged, baring bright white fangs, the angles of his face sharpening so that his beautiful features were cruel and hungry.

I scrambled back, landing on my ass when I lost my footing. Jonathan forged forward. There was no time to stand and fight. I braced myself for the attack, clamping my eyelids down so that I wouldn't have to see the blood-crazed eyes of my own father as he destroyed me.

Nothing came.

Opening my eyes, I found Jonathan straining against metal chains that were manacled to his wrists and ankles. His elongated jaw snapped furiously only a couple of inches from my face. The sound of his teeth gnashing grated down my spine as hot droplets of spittle coated my skin.

He was so close that I could see the rotting flesh from his last meal still stuck between his teeth. The stench of old blood and gore burnt the back of my throat.

Madness, corruption, despair, destruction.

The whispered words started up again, more and more voices joining the chant. My head spun in the face of my father's madness. The wall that held his chains no longer looked like the dark club. More like the smooth white and reflective glass of laboratory walls.

A man in a doctor's coat flicked a switch and florescent lighting bathed the area.

My father flinched away from the man, but not far enough to avoid the needle that went into his arm.

Smoke rose from his pale skin as it blistered and peeled. Jonathan's crimson eyes met mine again as his face twisted and warped until whatever was in that needle flayed him alive before my eyes. My own fingers rose involuntarily to my face as my father's skin disintegrated, leaving muscle, nerves and blood vessels raw. His eyeballs were round and exposed, the lids long gone. They held me unflinchingly, his horror increasing my own exponentially the longer our connection held.

My scream echoed around the empty hall of the club. It was only the sound of my own fear bouncing back to me that made me realise that I wasn't in the sterile laboratory with Jonathan.

My ancestors were no longer whispering their premonitions of doom, they were shouting them over and over until the noise beat me down to the floor, arms covering my head as I tried to protect myself from the words flying around me.

It was only when I felt those strong, cool hands slip under my arms and pull me up that thought re-entered my brain.

Thomas was here.

My knees buckled in relief that I was away from the sight of my father's torture. Thomas lifted me, cradling me to his chest as he strode quickly through the club.

The heat of human bodies surrounded me again, the music pumping and pulsing around the packed dance-floor.

What the hell? I'd been here the whole time?

We got to the exit quicker than was humanly possible. When I glanced over Thomas's shoulder I saw the line of dancers that he'd pushed out of the way.

Outside he put me down, placing his hands on my shoulders. "What happened? I sensed your adrenaline spike, and when I got to you, your body was there, but you were somewhere else."

"Jonathan. Where is he?" I asked, unable to think past the image of that blistering face.

"Don't worry about him, he can't get to you now," Thomas said, his voice laced with the same indulgence that was shining out of his eyes.

"Where. Is. My. Father?" I asked again, desperately trying to keep my arms at my sides instead of throttling the information out of him.

"Alice, you're safe. James has him confined," Thomas said, his tensing jaw revealing the tiniest trace of unease when I didn't accept his reassurances.

I staggered away from him, shaking off the hand that tried to grip my arm to keep me close.

"You did that?"

It was more of a statement than a question. I turned and ran, suddenly overcome with fear.

"Did what?" I heard him say, just before a stream of people exited the club, stopping Thomas from following me.

Not even Jonathan deserves that fate! The vampires have some explaining to do...