Page 16 of Dissection of Immortal Hearts (Hospital for Immortal Creatures #3)

Amelia

A week after she’d arrived in Antambazi, Amelia received an invitation to a special dinner.

She loathed the provocative dress the Queen had gifted her for the occasion.

Brick-red satin, a tight bodice and skirts that parted in a daring thigh-high slit.

Golden sandals crept up her ankles with delicate straps and elevated heels, and her hair fell loose over one shoulder.

By contrast, the Queen looked divine in a sheer white gown dusted with gold across her chest and hips, her ensemble sealed with a single detail: Mikhail’s ring.

Every encounter with the ancient ring was an ordeal for Amelia. It not only embodied her mistakes from the past months, but also served as a silent reminder that she still knew nothing about Mikhail’s fate. She forced her gaze away from it and concentrated on the dinner ahead.

Tonight, the ballroom resembled a hollow, lifeless heart, with a table at its centre. Gone were the lively conversations, elegant sombre tones, and patriotic dances. Instead, they had been replaced with a rather despicable guest.

General Petrov, notorious for his twisted pastime of dismembering live beings, enjoyed the Queen’s clear favour. This was evident from the lavish spread before him and the formal attire in which he and his son were received in Antambazi.

The General’s pale blue irises, set in jaundiced, bloodshot eyes, gleamed with a hint of madness. His thinning, neatly combed grey hair complemented his sporty yet elegant suit.

“Thank you for the invitation, Your Majesty,” he said, as they sipped fragrant red wine after the rare steak. “I’ve long wished to visit your little haven. My son, Vesel”—he gestured to the younger man seated beside him—“has a fondness for hidden places.”

The moment Amelia met the son’s icy blue gaze, her gut told her: if the General was an unhinged psychopath, this man was a hundred times more dangerous.

Vesel was a stocky man, probably in his mid-thirties, with a round face and calculating eyes similar to his father’s.

Dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and a wine-coloured tie, he radiated an unsettling charm.

“The supernatural has always fascinated me. And dining with beautiful women brings me even greater pleasure.”

He flashed a frog-like grin at the three women at the table: the Queen, Amelia, and Kathrine. The latter was wearing a shimmering black dress with thin straps and a tight skirt that fell just below the knees, highlighting her alluring figure.

Sevar cleared his throat, reminding them of his presence. “For me, the pleasure is all in dining with humans.”

“Nothing cements alliances like a pleasant meal together,” one of the Queen’s advisors interjected, the last guest at the table. Usually gruff and surly, he now wore an unconvincing smile that made him thoroughly unpleasant.

Amelia scanned the group, once again wondering about the purpose of this meeting.

When her gaze met the younger Petrov’s, he nodded towards her untouched plate.

“You immortals are lucky. Some of you don’t need food at all, while others can eat whatever they want without consequence.

I used to weigh four hundred pounds.” He patted his stomach.

“Then, I had to endure endless diets, restrictions, and surgery to lose weight. And for what? To keep limiting myself.”

“Overindulgence doesn’t do immortals any favours either, Vesel. Gluttony is a deadly sin,” the Queen remarked.

“Ah, yes! Alongside lust, greed, and many other qualities I most definitely possess.” He laughed.

His father shook his head. “One day, he’ll learn discipline. Let’s just hope it’s not too late.”

The Queen arched a practised brow. “With a father like you? Why would he need to?”

Amelia resisted the urge to gag at the obvious sycophancy.

General Petrov’s expression made it clear he wasn’t buying the flattery. “The entire world will bow to him once you fulfil your end of the bargain.”

“The trade – our provision of wealth beyond what you could spend in a hundred lifetimes – remains as it always has,” the advisor chimed in.

“I’m not talking about our business.”

“Of course not,” the Queen said smoothly.

“Before we get to that, there’s something else I need.

I want you to double the security at the Hospital for Immortals.

Add twice as many well-trained, armed soldiers.

They’re to patrol not only the building and its surroundings but also the mountain.

No one enters the area without my approval or that of my trusted advisors. ”

Amelia paused with her fork midway to her mouth. What was going on at the Hospital to warrant the extra security? The Queen had said she didn’t care about the Hospital.

The General grimaced. “Isn’t that excessive?”

“All I’m asking is for you to provide more men.”

“Hmm. Such an addition requires considerable…resources. Resources in terms of money and influence. Do you know how much effort it took to mobilise two hundred soldiers? And it’s not like I’m sending them to war, for heaven’s sake.

I had to explain they’d be guarding an invisible building housing creatures unknown to humanity. My men are afraid!”

“None of them has come to harm so far,” the Queen said. “You’ll assure them there’s no danger.”

The General shook his head. “It’s rare to find soldiers so devoted to their duty that betrayal is never a concern.”

The Queen played with her glass lazily. “You’re an influential man, Petrov, with equally influential contacts. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t even ask, but you…”

General Petrov frowned in response. The table fell into an awkward silence.

“We have a witcher who could hypnotise them,” the Queen’s advisor interjected once again. “There’s no need for persuasion – just point us to the right people. When this is all over, they won’t remember a thing.”

General Petrov laughed, a harsh sound. “You require loyal monsters, not hypnotised puppets! And since your advisor said, ‘When this is all over,’ I’m beginning to wonder how many generations will pass before that actually happens.”

“What are you implying?” the Queen asked.

“I’m growing impatient. Human lives are far too brief to keep indulging your whims, getting nothing in return.”

“ Nothing ?” She arched an eyebrow. “You’re wealthier than ninety per cent of humanity…”

He cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Wealth I can’t even spend without drawing too much attention.”

“And the regular… entertainment for you and your associates?” The Queen drummed her nails on the table.

“The Kreiss Hunters, is that what you call your little organisation? And when that Minister of Transportation became inconvenient, who orchestrated his untimely death? You even got his mistress’ body for your experiments. ”

“That’s true,” he admitted, his tone sharp. “But what good is all that if I keel over from a heart attack tomorrow? Now, if I were immortal, I wouldn’t have to worry about my limited lifespan or anyone questioning the origin of my fortune.”

“You’ll get what I promised you soon.”

Petrov’s expression darkened. “Don’t take me for a fool! I’ve thoroughly examined every record left by the Kreiss Hunters. I’ve studied immortal species for years, enough to know that a human achieving immortality is impossible. I’m beginning to wonder how you managed to convince me otherwise.”

“Our agreement was clear. You’ll gain immortality after my species is freed from Antambazi’s confines.”

“And yet you keep adding more demands to your list.”

The Queen raised her chin, her smile ice-cold and alluring. “And why did you think becoming immortal would be easy, General?”

Did she truly promise him immortality? Amelia wondered. That was impossible.

Petrov drained his glass in one swift motion. “According to you, you can bend the other immortal species to your will, yet I’ve seen no progress on that front either.”

An uneasy silence settled over the room. Seconds ticked by as the Queen studied him with an unreadable expression. Finally, she turned to one of her Chosen, who’d been replenishing their food and wine throughout the evening. “Come here.”

The young woman hesitated, then approached in halting steps. She clearly hadn’t expected to be summoned for anything beyond filling glasses or clearing plates.

“Come closer, and lean in.” The Queen reached out, placing her hand on the back of the girl’s neck, as though to whisper something to her.

Instead, she found Petrov’s gaze. “This is Monica. I found her on the outskirts when she was two years old, and I’ve raised her as my own.

You can imagine how dear she is to me, can’t you, General?

” Her fingers brushed the girl’s neck, just above the open collar of her crisp white shirt, cinched at the waist by a leather belt.

Petrov glanced at his watch. “I don’t see where this is going, but I really must—”

Something landed on his empty plate with a sickening thud. All eyes turned to the young trainee, whose throat emitted a horrific gurgling sound.

Dear God.

Petrov froze, his mouth agape in shock.

“Damn it!” His son leapt to his feet, knocking over his wineglass and spilling crimson across the white tablecloth.

Amelia’s stomach churned, but she suppressed the bile rising in her mouth. The Chosen collapsed to the floor, clutching at the torrent of blood gushing from her throat. Her missing throat. The Queen had torn it out and thrown it onto the General’s plate.

Amelia’s instincts screamed at her to rise and help. But it was hopeless. The girl was gone. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old…

Amelia’s heart raced with the need to flee, but she remained rooted in her chair. Across the table, Kathrine and the advisor sat motionless, while Sevar… that bastard was smirking.