A World of New (A Shade of Vampire, #26)

“Levels never reached before?” Derek interrupted. “I have seen for myself heightened abilities in IBSI members. Have they not already developed such a formula?”


The man shook his head. “It sounds like what you have witnessed is just the early stages. They are developing something much more powerful—though,” he added quickly, “I have not been privy to any further details about it.”

“What was your son doing with them in the first place?” Corrine asked.

“He was a test subject,” Atticus replied. “A willing test subject, I should add.”

Willing?

“W-Was—Is—he an IBSI member?” I choked.

“He was, and is, not,” Atticus replied. “And neither am I. We are citizens of Chicago… or what’s left of it.”

“He doesn’t sound like he’s from Chicago,” Corrine countered.

“No, he does not,” the man agreed. “His mother was British.”

The fact that Atticus used the past tense while describing Lawrence’s mother barely registered in my brain. I was still in shock.

“Why would he be willing to undergo something like that?” I asked.

Atticus’ expression darkened. “He did it for his mother.”

My face scrunched in confusion. “Huh?”

“IBSI’s pay was high. My wife was dying of lung cancer. We needed money to treat her… The cruel irony is, she passed away last week, before Lawrence could have ever made it back.” He paused, his voice catching in his throat. “But I had no idea about any of his plans. If I’d known that Lawrence had been planning to apply for the position, of course I never would’ve let him do it. He left without my consent. I only found out where he’d disappeared to, and that he’d been selected, when I was contacted by the IBSI less than twenty-four hours ago… explaining to me that the procedure had been sabotaged and if I did not manage to reclaim him from you, the consequences of the half-completed procedure would kill him within a matter of days. I need to return him to IBSI Chicago headquarters. They’re the only ones who know how to fix him.”

“B-But why would they select Lawrence for such a test in the first place?” I stammered. “Isn’t the point to enhance humans’ capabilities? He’s not even a human. He is a half-blood, right?”

Atticus nodded. “He suffered the misfortune of stumbling across a vampire last year near the city’s outskirts… The bastard got it into his head to turn my son, though I managed to stake him while he’d been injecting his venom. At least it was just a vampire, and not a Bloodless,” he added darkly. “As for your other question, I don’t know why IBSI accepted him. As I said, I only found out less than twenty-four hours ago that my son is in mortal danger. The IBSI hasn’t disclosed details to me.” He swallowed hard, desperation in his gaze as he looked from one of us to the other. “Now p-please. Return my son to me.”

His words hung in the air as a chill silence engulfed us. I locked eyes with Shayla. Her expression was shrouded with doubt. “First, we must test whether or not you are an imposter,” she said. Not waiting for Atticus’ agreement, she moved over to him and gripped his shoulders. In the face of the magic she was performing on him, if Atticus was indeed an imposter, disguised as Mr. Conway by some form of trickery, he would be forced to reveal his true form. He didn’t change. He remained standing, the same blond-haired, ashen-faced man.

As my gut clenched, I realized that a part of me had been hoping that he was a fraud. A hunter in disguise—perhaps the same one who had shouted down that fateful warning about Lawrence. I didn’t want to believe that this was true. I didn’t want to believe that we were about to willingly hand Lawrence back over to those people. Those monsters.

I still struggled to believe that Lawrence had been a volunteer, in spite of the conviction in his father’s eyes. I recalled the fear in Lawrence’s expression—how he had practically begged me to not return him to the IBSI—when they had come to bomb our island and demand that we hand him over. I never would have gotten the impression in a million years that he had willingly handed himself over to them, no matter how faded his memory was.

No, Lawrence’s wish had been for us to keep him. His wish had been to risk dying rather than be returned to the hunters.

My throat dried out.

As I sensed that one of the adults was on the verge of answering—probably my grandfather, suggesting that Corrine or Shayla fetch Lawrence—I looked Atticus straight in the eye and said, “Your son did not want to be returned to the IBSI. It was practically his last wish that we keep him here, even if he risked his life by staying.”

Atticus stared at me, disbelieving. “I can’t imagine him saying that.”

“He did,” I replied. “I can assure you, I would never lie about something like this.”

He frowned, looking disturbed. “Then… Then he must have been delirious, or something.”