Destiny could feel her stomach churning with bile, with a fierce rage as cold as ice and as hot as an out-of-control fire. She heard the humiliation in Blythe’s voice, the utter despair even as she defied her tormentor. Destiny looked at the doctor and saw only a monster. Without thinking, she waved Blythe to silence, sent her to sleep so that she slumped over on the window seat, her eyes closed.
The doctor swore. “You little bitch, do you think that’s going to fool me?”
Destiny came out of the shadows, her eyes flaming a fiery red. She hissed softly, drawing his attention. “You do not deserve to live.”
He spun around, stepped back and quickly put up his hand. “You have no proof of anything. I was attempting a form of therapy. How dare you come into this room?”
“You hurt John Paul because Helena turned down your sick advances. You harmed Martin because he refused to give you your way in his project. You use your profession to hurt people, don’t you, Doctor?”
He shrugged carelessly once he assured himself they were alone in the room. “I’d like to see you prove such an accusation. I have an impeccable reputation.” He pulled a syringe from his pocket, smiling at her as he did so. “You shouldn’t have stuck your nose in where it didn’t belong.” He walked to her, completely confident that he could subdue her.
Destiny allowed him to take her arm in his viselike grip. She smiled coolly at him while inside she smoldered with outrage at his complete lack of remorse. “I don’t have to prove it, Doctor. I’m not human.” For one moment she allowed him to see the rage, the fury, the red flame of retribution.
The doctor went white, his mouth opening to emit a high shriek of terror. Destiny waved her hand to stop the sound, catching it in his throat, cutting off his airway. She blinked, suddenly realizing what she was about to do. Nicolae. I will not be like the undead. I may have their blood, but I will not join their ranks and terrorize this disgusting excuse for a man. I will not do the very thing they do. He deserves to be brought to justice and I will do so, but…
She released the doctor as Nicolae materialized, pulling the syringe out of the doctor’s suddenly nerveless fingers. “I think I would like you to write out a full confession for us, Doctor. And include why and how. You must tell the world in general that you could not live with the guilt of your crimes.” His voice was so soft and pleasant, Destiny backed away from him, away from the power of the compulsion.
She was shaking with the need for justice, grateful that Nicolae had intervened with a cool head, remembering they would need proof for all the victims.
It was terrifying to think how much she had wanted the doctor to see death coming. Destiny wanted him to feel everything Blythe had felt. Everything she herself had felt.
She put her arms around Blythe, whispering to her, promising her that everything would be all right. We cannot leave her like this, Nicolae.
Do not worry, we will provide for her.
The doctor turned as if sleepwalking and left the room. Nicolae put his arm around Destiny and together, at a much more sedate pace, they followed the doctor down the hall and out of the ward. Both watched as the man sat at the desk in his office and carefully wrote out his confession. He left it on the desktop and once again was on the move, climbing the stairs to the roof, several stories up, where he simply stepped off the edge. They did not watch him hit the sidewalk below, but hurried away, stopping only to allow Nicolae to whisper to a security man and the nurse at the desk. They sought the peace of the quiet streets, easily gaining entrance into Harry’s home. Destiny watched Nicolae, her heart swelling with pride as he bent to give Harry a soft command.
Harry dressed quickly and hurried down to the street, heading for the hospital, uncertain why it was so important to him, but needing desperately to spend the remainder of the night in the hospital room with his wife.