Page 20 of Last Hope
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“We haveno further need for the mutt. Kill him.”
The scientists followed his orders without question and stabbed a needle through the pup’s neck, injecting him with a clear liquid that sent him convulsing on the long metal operating table. The straps that had bound him down tore from the force of his convulsive twists, but the scientists made no move to fix what he had broken. He would be dead soon enough. It wouldn’t be silent and it wouldn’t be painless. Yet it would serve a greater purpose. Their lives always did…
“Dispose of the body and clean this mess up.”
The scientists nodded and got to work on moving the carcass out of his sight. They worked quite efficiently, because in only a few seconds, everything had been cleaned as if new. He smiled maleficently at the men in white masks. It wasn’t very often that he was allowed to give orders but when he did no one dared disobey the second in command.
“Sir.” A sound voice mirroring his own occasional submissive tone sounded at his shoulder.
“What is it?” he asked with more patience than Azizi ever showed to him.
“There is a van outside. They have brought another subject.”
He smiled. They had received many subjects alone in the past weeks. They were mainly unwanted children being sold by their parents, business men selling their bastard children and even supernaturals found alone on the streets. It was amazing, what people would do for money, he thought.
“Take me to him.”
12
Esmeralda rested her cheek against the cold crystal of the taxi glass. She felt too tired to even open her eyes and watch the scenery pass by her like a fast motion picture. Though, she blamed that on the plane ride in and the unease at leaving Isis behind. She had been so nervous that she couldn’t breathe until Antonio finally helped her to relax and fall asleep.
But the guilty feeling of abandoning Isis couldn’t help but crawl its way into her bones, and it was worse when she slept. Therefore she could only close her eyes and wait until they arrived at her grandmother’s house.
“Querida,” Antonio’s voice whispered in her ear but she didn’t dare open her eyes. She was too tired to do so. “Querida, we’re here.” She felt the light-as-a-feather brush of his lips against her temple.
“At my grandmother’s house?” she whispered without opening her eyes.
“Where else?”
Esmeralda finally blinked her eyes opened and smiled at Antonio. “Hey, you.”
“How are you feeling? Still being a wimp?”
Indignantly, she guffawed. “I wasnotbeing a wimp, Santiago!”
“’Course you were! Now, let’s go meet your grandmother.” He leaned forward, trying to shuffle a cooing Viktor in his arms and handed the cab driver a wad of bills. “Gracias,” he said to the driver before opening the door and hopping out to run to Ezzy’s side, just to open the door for her.
She stepped out of the car. “Thanks.” She smiled and took her son in her arms while Antonio went to the back of the car to open the trunk and pull out their bags. Once he closed the door of the trunk and the cab drove away, they both turned and Esmeralda gaped.
She had never been outside of the country. After she’d left Santiago mansion, Antonio had helped her fulfill her dream to travel and experience new things though she’d never even been out of the U.S. and now she was in Spain. And it was better than she had imagined.
The streets were cobblestone and the houses in the neighborhood were all tall and thin and painted in an odd assortment of colors that were bright even in the darkness. It was totally different from being in America, she thought. All of the houses there looked exactly alike in order to distinguish each neighborhood from the next but these—these were all different with small, beautiful gardens that were very well kept and colored.
“This is beautiful!” Esmeralda exclaimed, holding Viktor against her chest.
“That one’s your grandmother’s house.” He pointed to a thin, house in front of them whose roof was painted a yellow pastel color and walls made of stone. It looked antique, but perfectly kept between the other newer modeled houses. There were rosebushes on either side of the thick wooden door and a small pathway leading to it.
“Thisis where my father grew up?” Ezzy looked at it, astonished. It was so cute and cozy and nothing like the way she grew up; in a mansion surrounded by vampires.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” he commented, his voice distant. “Ignacio and I had such great memories here.”
“Did you live close to him?” she asked with honest curiosity.
Antonio shook his head. “No. I lived in the poorer part of town with my family.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “I thought you have always been rich?”
