“We’ve had to keep up with technology, although there are still matriarchies who prefer to live in a more primitive environment,” she said, leading Nefri down another corridor, this one lined with doors.
A glance through one open door was enough to reveal they’d reached the prisons.
“Is Santiago being held in these cells?” she demanded, uncertain why Solaris had brought her here.
Solaris glanced over her shoulder. “Of course not. For now he’s a guest and being offered our finest hospitality.” A taunting smile touched her lips. “Happy?”
Well aware that Harpy hospitality included food, drink, and sex with a willing female, Nefri was forced to swallow a low growl. “Not particularly,” she muttered.
“Here.”
Coming to a halt at a door being guarded by an older Harpy with a hard face and the air of a seasoned warrior, Solaris gestured toward the small window set in the steel door.
With a frown Nefri moved forward, studying the gaunt human male who was pacing the cell with short, jerky steps. He looked young, perhaps twenty, dressed in filthy jeans and a Polo shirt that was torn and covered in blood. His hair was matted with dirt and his face shredded by claw marks that Nefri suspected were self-inflicted.
A pathetic creature, but what did it have to do with her? She returned her attention to the female at her side. “Is he mad?”
“If that was all that was wrong with him, I would have killed him the minute he stumbled close to our nest.” Solaris glanced toward the silent guard. “Open the window.”
With a grimace the warrior leaned sideways and slid the pane of glass open a few inches. Immediately a choking cloud of . . . aggression—the only word that came to her mind—filled the air.
Nefri shuddered, her fangs fully extended and aching for blood. “Good lord,” she rasped.
Solaris hissed as her muscles tensed and her eyes swirled with the power of an approaching hurricane. “He was in our territory for less than one day and he triggered a dozen fights that broke out among various demons, including two of my Harpies, and caused an entire pack of hellhounds to turn on one another,” she said between clenched teeth, as vulnerable to the evil in the air as Nefri. “Four of them are dead.”
Nefri took an instinctive step back. She was close to snapping. “Is he the only one?”
“The only one who has survived. We found several corpses that had been drained and two others that looked as if they’d fought to the death.”
“Please.” Nefri clenched her hands, her mind clouding with a bloodlust that she hadn’t felt in centuries. “Close the window.”
Solaris nodded toward the guard, who hurriedly slammed the glass shut. For a minute there was a heavy silence as each of them struggled to leash the violence that bubbled through their veins.
At last, giving a low curse, Solaris turned to stab Nefri with a frustrated glare. “Are you prepared to confess what is going on?”
Nefri gave a slow shake of her head, feeling a stab of betrayal. What had the Commission done?
This . . . spirit . . . or whatever the hell it was, had been locked behind the Veil for endless centuries and never once had the Oracles warned her that it could be a danger to her people, let alone turn them into savage zombies.
And now she was learning that Gaius’s bite might actually be infecting humans....
Holy hell.
“I don’t know. Truly,” she told her companion, her expression troubled. “I’ve never heard of a vampire’s bite causing this reaction in a human.”
“But you knew something was wrong?” the Harpy pressed.
“Yes, but I had no idea Gaius was causing such damage,” she carefully hedged before turning the conversation away from what brought her to Louisiana. “I felt the lingering consequences of the infection as we were traveling through the swamp. Is it fading?”
Solaris’s lips thinned, but she allowed herself to be diverted. “Yes. Once the human was locked away the hostility began to lessen. Hopefully it will be completely gone by tomorrow.”
The words didn’t ease the tight knot of dread in the pit of her stomach, but it did give her hope that if they moved with enough speed they could contain the worst of the plague.
“What do you intend to do with him?” she asked, nodding toward the cell.
“Study him for now,” Solaris said with a shrug. “He’ll be dead in a day or two.”
Nefri was caught off guard by the blunt announcement. “Dead? He’s not ill. At least not physically.”