Description
What Evils Lurk in the Hearts of Men
– Mychael Black
Arcanum 2
Detectives Jonah and Riley Pierce are back in another case for Arcanum, the US government’s paranormal police agency. This time, however, they’re headed to Berlin when a series of murders points to the enigmatic leader of a research institute. Things turn personal very quickly, though, and they find themselves in a race to stop a psychopathic mortal hellbent on finding the daywalker gene.
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EXCERPT:
Germany, November 2009
“Er kommt.”
The young man paced, gave the door a cursory glance every few seconds, then continued his incessant fidgeting. Wulf would’ve liked nothing more than to gut the little shit right now, but Jerrik would have his balls — and possibly his head.
“Wann?” Christ, the fucker just wouldn’t shut up his whining.
Wulf tightened his grip, hands behind his back. He figured he made the dutiful guard picture. In truth, he did it to keep from ripping the idiot apart himself. “Er sollte jeden Moment hier sein.”
On cue, the door opened, and his charge snapped his head up. Jerrik gave his best smile, but behind it lay unfathomable cruelty. Wulf had witnessed it time and again, stupid fucks coming through their compound, expecting to join the ranks of the vampires. Little did they know meeting Karl Jerrik would be their last pleasant memory on earth.
“Come.” Unlike some of the others, Karl only spoke his native language with those he trusted. For ‘guests,’ he used English since most of the people they brought in came from all over the world. “I apologize for making you wait. You must be hungry.” Arm firmly around the young man’s shoulders, Karl led the man out of the holding room and into an open space with a grated floor. Beneath the grate sat a large steel drum, ready for their prize.
“Are you going to turn me tonight?” the man asked, following suit and switching to English. Few of them bothered.
“I’d hoped we could get to know one another…” Karl stopped and turned.
Wulf watched the nonverbal exchange, marveling at its subtle complexity. The young man blinked and shook his head as if fighting drowsiness. They all came thinking Karl Jerrik would turn them. They craved strength and immortality. Karl smiled and this time, there was no hint of pleasantness about it. Their guest gasped and stumbled backward, but Karl seized the back of the man’s neck in an iron grip.
“Wenn ich du wäre, ginge ich nicht,” Wulf muttered. He blocked the only exit — the door leading back to freedom.
“Wh-what?” The frightened captive looked frantically from Wulf to Karl. “I don’t…”
The movement came quick, faster than any mortal should be. Terrified eyes widened in disbelief as blood rushed from the man’s neck in a steady, thick stream. The vat below caught every drop and Karl let the body fall into a heap on the floor.
Karl rubbed his temples and sighed. “Ich habe Kopfschmerzen.”
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