Chapter 17: Mira
Days passed just like that since that night. She stared at the ceiling of her bedroom while her fingers were touching her lips. There was no word to describe the feeling she had when he kissed her. It felt sinfully right. Was it a sin to have her mate kissing her? Probably not. That was what should happen when a werewolf had a mate, but she never expected her moment would come—not after what she had been through.
Her phone rang annoyingly, snapping her from her thoughts.
“What?” she asked rather rudely.
“I found Dr. Pritchard,” Griffin responded from the other end.
Mira sat up quickly and almost cursed out for the thumping pain on her forehead, “Where?”
“He works at a private clinic on 21st Street.”
“Thanks for the help.”
An hour later, she scanned around. The clinic was empty at the current hour and she saw a glimpse of the doctor arrived at the front door. Mira grabbed a magazine and hid her face. She didn’t want to frighten him before she questioned him because she needed answers. Maybe he could provide that to her.
“Doctor, you have a patient waiting for you,” The nurse said as they walked past Mira.
“Thanks, honey. Just let her in,” he answered before he entered his office.
The nurse turned to Mira. “You can come in now, Miss.”
Mira put down the magazine, stood up, and walked into the office. Dr. Pritchard looked surprised to see her and his mouth gaped. Mira took it he still recognized her although it had been fourteen years since they last met. Age was nothing to a vampire. The doctor’s appearance looked like he was still in his mid-twenties with short dark brown hair and probing blue eyes that could pierce through anything.
“I would take it from here. Thank you, honey.” He dismissed the nurse with a small gesture before he spoke again, “I see you made it out.”
Mira didn’t speak a word as she walked around the office. This was just like any typical doctor’s office with many diagrams of a human’s body, leaflets, short information about common sicknesses and their treatments. During his prime time as part of Damien’s research team, Pritchard mainly worked on her blood.
Mira gazed absentmindedly. “I’m not here to talk down memory lane, doctor.”
“Are you here to kill me then?” he asked before taking a seat. “I’ve heard many of my colleagues died in your hands.”
Colleagues? Was that all that about? Those abusers, torturers, murderers, and rapists were his colleagues?
“I came to talk about the experiments you conducted on me.”
“What about it?”
“Peter mentioned your name.”
“He’s drunk or high to speak such.”
“He was on death’s door.” Mira placed a small knife on his desk. “Tell me, doctor.”
The doctor sighed in a defeat. “Damien Kincaid suspected you were unique than his other subjects. You were born as half vampire and werewolf—something that never happened before.”
“Lies. They—you and your so-called colleagues injected me with Damien’s blood,” she protested.
Mira still could feel the burning sensation of Damien’s blood in her veins. She felt disgusted as she thought how his blood was running in her vein now.
“That was my reaction when he told me, but he didn’t mention your parents’ names. He said your father was a vampire and your mother was a werewolf. As you know, both species are poisonous to each other—neither could survive each other’s bites, but with your case, you were born as a hybrid of something we thought was impossible. There were many births just like yours, but only you survived such. While you are hybrid, your wolf gene allows you to walk under the sun without damage. Damien wanted to have that kind of ability. Your gene holds that secret to allow vampires walking under the sun without damage.”
A vampire with the ability to walk under the sun without damage—something she could never let Damien’s hands got on. Mira would burn herself into ashes if she had to—before Damien had his hands her blood. She’d never forgive herself if that happened.
“Did you get that?”
He shook his head. “No, we weren’t able to extract your living cells without it died shortly after. Every time we extracted your living cells for the test, it died. Damien was furious about it, but then he found a solution by running tests on your body instead of extracting the cell out. It proved the procedures painful, but you survived it.”
Mira’s body tingled with shivers. She rubbed the scars on her arm. There were too many scars to count on her body. Each had their own secret.
“Your cells adapted to every test making it impossible to have an accurate result. We even resorted to injecting your blood to another test subject. The test subject died after a few days. It turned out that your blood only compatible with certain individuals. We continued with the tests—finding as many blood samples of another individual, but we met a dead end. Damien has a high interest in your gene. If he found a compatible DNA with yours, I could assure you, he’d create super soldiers with it.”
That explained the slaves.
The doctor went on with his explanation, “A highly enhanced soldier with your gene. You’re a lot stronger, agile, and much advanced than any known werewolf or vampire. Your blood could unlock the secret to allowing vampires to walk under the sun. Your blood also, allowing both species to consume each other’s blood without dying. Imagine, a vampire created using your blood, he could kill and drain werewolf’s blood without dying of poisoning. He could survive anything—silver couldn’t kill him, the sun doesn’t damage him — nothing could kill him except ripping his heart out. Imagine, having that kind of creature roaming around. Now, it might be just him, but if he turns others, it could be ten, then hundreds, thousands, millions even! Mankind wouldn’t survive. The world would fall out of balance. Damien wouldn’t stop looking for the compatible DNA and when he does, I’d swear, the apocalypse would come.”
Mira walked around in his office before she glanced over her shoulder. “You have a soft heart for a vampire.”
“I know I did many unforgivable and inhumane things on you. A simple apology wouldn’t fix all that. But, if you want to kill me, let me die on my own terms.”
“You don’t get to negotiate, doctor. Not after what you did. Saving humans using your clinic wouldn’t able to cover numbers of corpses you’ve piled up.”
“Your bloodlust won’t sate just by killing, Mira. You have vampire gene in you.”
“That’s the thing, doctor…” Mira grabbed the knife from the desk. “You’ve conducted experiments on me and yet, you did not know what I am. I am more than just a hybrid of vampire and werewolf.”
She slashed the knife on his throat—the weakest point of both vampires and werewolf. It was impossible to heal a slit throat. He gurgled as blood flowed out while his hands were trying to stop the bleeding.
“You don’t get to negotiate.” she finished.