Page 16 of Vicious and Volatile (Vengeance and Venom #2)

T he towering Hunt Pharmaceuticals building looms before me, all sleek glass and steel reflecting the Manhattan skyline. I’ve passed by it countless times, but today I’m walking through its front doors for the first time. The lobby is pristine, with marble floors so polished I can see the reflection of my undercarriage.

“Welcome to Hunt Pharmaceuticals,” the receptionist greets me with a practiced smile. Her bright red lipstick doesn’t falter as she glances from me to her computer screen and back to me. “Do you have an appointment?”

“I’m here to see Florence Hunt,” I say, shifting my bag on my shoulder. “She’s expecting me.”

The woman chuckles. “I don’t think so. Ms. Hunt doesn’t take appointments.”

I arch an eyebrow at this woman, and a bad taste forms in the back of my throat. Fucking rude. I walk forward, keeping my eyes fixed on this woman. I place my hands on the surface of her massive desk. Her eyes fall down to the massive engagement ring on my left hand.

“I’m Lana Kincade,” I explain. “My fiancée is Ares Hunt. Florence is about to be my sister-in-law, and she is most definitely expecting me.”

The woman’s eyes widen, and she goes white. Her fingers fly across the keyboard, and her mouth flaps open twice before she finds the words. “I’m so sorry, Miss Kincade,” she says in an embarrassed rush. “I didn’t know. Florence doesn’t ever take visitors. But she is expecting you. Just a moment.” She picks up the phone and murmurs something into the receiver.

A moment later, a young man in a sharp gray suit approaches. “Miss Kincade?” he asks. His smile is polite, but I can tell he’s curious who is taking the attention of such an important woman. “I’m Dash, Ms. Hunt’s assistant. Right this way, please.”

I give a smile to the humbled receptionist as I follow Dash.

The elevator ride is silent except for the faint hum of the machinery. I glance at my reflection in the mirrored walls, smoothing down the hem of my top. Ares has been holed up with James for three days now, attempting to sort through the madness that’s just landed in Ares’ lap. James is taking it all in stride. With the two of them wrapped up in business at all hours of the day and night, I told him I was taking Florence up on her offer to see her labs. I’d called Florence, and she told me to be here this morning, so here I am.

The doors slide open, and I step out after Dash. The entire hallway is brilliantly, almost blindingly, white. White marble floor, white walls, white ceiling. Even the décor is white. There are doors branching off of the hall, and the glass walls grant me a view into immaculate offices. But we head straight down the hall, and through her windows, I see Florence at the very end of the hall. Dash knocks on the door and Florence distractedly waves me in as she hammers away at her computer. Dash excuses himself.

She has a spectacular view of the city. It doesn’t get much more pristine than this. The room is as sleek and modern as the rest of the building, but it has a personal touch—a framed photo of her and Ares as kids hangs on the wall, right beside a wedding photo of her and Clementine. On her desk is a collection of scientific journals and a small, elegant bonsai tree. It’s just as organized and classy as I’d expect from the woman.

“Sorry about that,” Florence offers as she finishes her keyboard symphony and stands. “I’m so glad you were able to come.”

The genuine smile on her face says she’s telling the truth. Her blonde hair is wild and elegant in a way only she can pull off, and her tailored pantsuit screams efficiency and power.

“Thanks for inviting me,” I reply, offering her a smile of my own. “This place is… impressive.”

“Wait until you see the rest of it,” she says, a conspiratorial grin pulling on her lips. “Let’s go.”

We talk about nothing in particular as we head back into the elevator. It’s always easy with Florence. I can’t say I’m naturally comfortable around many people, but I always am with Ares’ sister.

We get off two floors down, and I take an impressed look around as we step out. The hallway is lined with labs, and there are dozens of employees around, busy bees working to create cures and treatments.

“The public knows us for our breakthroughs in cancer research and pharmaceuticals,” Florence explains as we walk down the hall. “The Hunt family has been in the business of healing for as far back as the records go. My great-grandfather created the company, and it grew into the largest pharmaceutical company in the country.”

“It’s amazing, Florence, really,” I say as I shake my head. To think, she keeps all of this running and has for years. She’s still so damn young.

We take another elevator down a floor, and when the doors slide open, I’m amazed at how well all the noise was contained. There is an incredible amount of manufacturing going on, but I couldn’t hear a single bit of it on the floor above.

“If we didn’t have all this vertical space and have it for nearly a century, we’d never be able to afford producing our products on-site,” Florence explains, raising her voice so I can hear her over the whirring and clinking sounds. “But it keeps hundreds of jobs here in the city.”

We work our way through this floor quickly, and it grows quieter as we enter the elevator. Instantly, the noise dies down as we descend four more floors. The doors slide open, and we set out through another floor filled with computers and screens.

“How is my brother handling things?” Florence asks as we pass through the hall. She walks with her hands slid into her pockets, the picture of cool and collected, as always.

“Okay, for the most part,” I answer her honestly. “His assistant is helping him sort through everything. James seems invested, and he’s good at the job. But I think Ares is a little… bitter. He feels like Augustus leaving him half of everything instead of a proportionate amount is his way of keeping Ares tangled, even though Augustus is dead.”

“That sounds like something Augustus would do,” Florence says. There’s a tightness to her jaw that isn’t usually there. “Never met a more manipulative, controlling asshole in my life.” Her eyes flick to mine. “But I’m really glad he has you, Lana. Congratulations, by the way. I couldn’t ask for a more kick-ass sister-in-law.”

She smiles, and it warms something in my chest, even if I feel a little… self-conscious for some reason. “Thanks. I’ll admit, it kind of doesn’t feel all the way real for some reason.”

“That’s because it’s been all of two seconds since you met,” Florence chuckles as we reach the end of the hall. She presses a button for the elevator. “Not that it matters, you two were fucking designed for each other.”

Damn, I love this woman.

We step inside the elevator when the doors slide open, but instead of pressing a button for a different floor, Florence scans a security badge. No lights indicate what floor we’re going to, but there is a ding sound and the elevator drops.

It’s obvious we’re in the basement levels of the building when the doors open. There are no windows. The lighting is dim. Even the air is cooler down here, almost sterile.

“This is where the interesting work happens,” Florence says, her voice echoing slightly in the corridor as we step out of the elevator.

We step into a large lab filled with high-tech equipment. Machines hum softly, and the walls are lined with monitors displaying complex data. The room is vast, walls of glass and rows of sleek counters brimming with cutting-edge equipment—centrifuges, microscopes, containment chambers, and machinery I can’t begin to name. The far wall is lined with glass enclosures, each housing small, darting shapes.

There are only two other people on this floor that I can see. Florence nods toward a man tinkering with a microscope. “That’s Dr. Patel. He’s one of my top geneticists. And over there,” she gestures to a woman adjusting a digital interface, “is Dr. Moreno. She specializes in biomolecular engineering.”

I nod politely at them, but my attention is fixed on the center of the room.

A cylindrical glass enclosure stands like a trophy case, lit from within by a soft green glow. Inside, I see… a rat? No, three rats, each in separate compartments, their movements unnervingly precise and deliberate.

“What… are they?” I ask, stepping closer.

Florence moves beside me, her tone turning clinical. “These are the latest generation of successful experiments. We call them Gen-V1 prototypes. Gen for genetics, V for vampire.”

My breath catches. “Wait, you mean… these are vampire rats?”

Florence chuckles. “Essentially, yes.”

“You’re creating vampires? Like Ares?”

She shakes her head. “Not exactly. I can’t recreate what he is—a ‘Born’ vampire is a product of magic as much as biology, which doesn’t make any fucking sense.” Her tone actually hardens with annoyance. “What I’m doing here is entirely scientific. My goal is to improve upon it.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Improve?”

“Think about it,” she says, turning to face me fully. “Ares can’t walk in sunlight without customized sunglasses, and even then, he ends the day with a massive migraine. His need for blood is strong enough he can drain an entire person, killing them. His abilities, while extraordinary, are the result of a madman trying to create the ultimate predator, which came with its own set of curses and risks. And making more of them? Think of how complicated it is. A Born father, and the odds of actually creating a pregnancy? I know Augustus has done it nine times, but he’s a rarity. And then you have to wait for that kid to reach adulthood before they can Resurrect. It takes forever. So, what I’m working on is a version of vampirism that eliminates most of those drawbacks.”

“You mean like a perfect vampire,” I say, half in awe and half in unease.

Florence’s lips curve into a smile, but there’s an edge to it. “Or as close to perfect as science can achieve. We’ve been working on recreating vampirism at a cellular level. What you’re looking at is the culmination of years of work. These rats exhibit regenerative capabilities beyond anything natural. Watch this.”

She picks up a remote and presses a button. A small door opens between the cages. Instantly, one rat goes after the other, its teeth latching onto the other’s neck. Blood spills onto the bedding at their feet.

“Shit, Florence, why…”

But the injured rat fights the other rat off, as if nothing had happened. The fight is feral, savage. But I watch closely. Within two seconds, the injured rat’s wounds close. Even the fur regrows in seconds.

The moment each rat is on either side of the enclosure, Florence presses the button, and it closes.

“They don’t even scar,” Florence says, satisfaction evident in her voice. “But here is the drawback I can’t seem to work around: the regeneration process is fueled by their constant consumption of blood. ”

My eyes fly open wide at that, and I stare at Florence in shock.

“Their regenerative systems are uniquely designed to extract iron and hemoglobin from blood, which fuels the creation of new cells. We put them through a rapid genetic mutation to create the regenerations. I had hoped they could be self-sustaining, but unfortunately, that isn’t the case. Since the body can’t produce hemoglobin naturally in the amounts they require, they must consume it directly from an outside source. Without it, the mechanism fails, but with it? They’re virtually immortal. Their cells recycle and rebuild at an accelerated rate, far beyond normal decay. That’s the cornerstone of everything I’ve created.”

I step back, still staring at the rats. “Why blood? Why does it fuel this… regeneration?”

“It’s the perfect medium,” Florence explains as she stares down at her creations. “Blood is the carrier of life—oxygen, nutrients, proteins. For these creatures, it’s not just sustenance. Their bodies are engineered to metabolize it in such a way that it becomes the catalyst for their regeneration. Every drop is absorbed into a system designed for efficiency. It’s biological optimization at its finest.”

My mind reels as I take this in. “This is so different from the Born vampires,” I murmur. “They need blood because of the curse. But you’ve made it something totally different. This is purely biological. No wonder you weren’t worried about getting cursed like Cyrus.”

“Exactly,” Florence says, nodding. “And the Born are shackled to some limitations—dilated eyes, and therefore an aversion to sunlight. But these rats? They don’t need to hide from the sun. Their eyes adjust like any diurnal predator. Their strengths are all a result of regeneration.”

“What other kind of strengths?” I ask. She has me eating out of the palm of her hand.

The smile on Florence’s lips tells me just how damn proud of this she is. “They don’t need to sleep. Ever. They never, ever get tired. They’re stronger than any normal rat, faster too. Not like the supernatural strength of a Born, but far beyond what an average rat would be. They reach peak physical health and stay there with no effort. They even age backward.”

“Holy shit, are you serious?” I gape.

Florence nods, the look in her eyes nearly gleeful. “They no longer age,” Florence says simply. “They constantly regenerate, so long as we give them a continual blood supply. So, they’re immortal, Lana. And they’re nearly impossible to kill. Beheading would work, but staking them? The wound would heal before it could do lasting damage. Even severe burns wouldn’t be enough unless they were prolonged. Their bodies regenerate too quickly.”

I glance back at the rat. It’s eerily still now, its beady eyes watching me as if it understands the conversation. A chill runs down my spine.

“And you’re close?” I ask, the words feeling… eerie. I don’t ask it directly—if it’s close to being ready for human testing—but I know Florence knows exactly what I mean.

“Closer than ever,” she replies, her tone low, quiet. “The process has been refined to the point that I believe we are ready to test it on a human subject. But there are… ethical considerations.”

I frown. “What kind of considerations? ”

“Even if the science is sound, the transformation is irreversible,” she says. “Whoever undergoes it would need to fully understand what they’re agreeing to. This wouldn’t just be a fun little weekend experience. It’s for life. And the potential for abuse is… obvious.”

“This is a big fucking deal, Florence,” I say quietly.

Florence gives a serious smile. “That’s why we’re proceeding carefully. The potential is immense, but so are the risks. It’s one thing to enhance a rat; it’s another to apply it to a person.”

Her phone goes off, not once, but seven times. She pulls it from her pocket and reads through the messages.

“You need to get back to work,” I say simply. I want to ask her a million more questions. This just opened up a whole new part of this world, one that’s such a mystery and question mark. But Florence is an important woman, and I understand she’s taking time out of her day to show me all of this.

“I do,” she says regretfully. “I’ll walk you out though.”

We head back into the elevator, and as we begin to ascend, my brain is spinning with everything I’ve just learned. I’m not sure I fully grasp everything she just told me.

“Thank you for showing me all this,” I say, genuinely awed. “I had no idea how much you were doing here.”

“I thought it was time,” she replies. “Ares… well, he’s always been wary of this project. But I think he knows my intentions are good.”

“He worries because he loves you,” I point out. “And because he’s seen what happens when power falls into the wrong hands.”

Florence’s expression hardens. “And that’s why I’ll never let it fall into the wrong hands. This work… it’s personal, Lana. For me, it’s about understanding. My brother is a vampire. My wife is a vampire. I can’t help my curiosity, my need to understand it on a biological level. This project is my magnum opus, and I’d die before I let it fall into the wrong hands.”

The elevator slides open, back at the lobby level. She’s just made such a strong declaration. But now there are listening ears. The receptionist looks at the two of us with wide, worried eyes.

“I believe you,” I say simply. “You’re amazing, Florence. And maybe a little bit terrifying.”

She laughs at that, taking it as the compliment I meant it as.

“Look, Lana, I know it’s too soon, Ares told me there hasn’t been any discussion about dates or anything yet, but when you’re ready, I’d love to be involved in the wedding planning,” she says, the look in her eyes softening. “When the time comes.”

It’s kind of amazing how she can read it so easily. That it is too soon. That we need some time. But the support and love is there in her expression.

“Thank you, Florence,” I offer, truly appreciative. “You’ll be the first person I call.”

“Take care, Lana,” she offers with a smile. “Have us over for dinner soon, yeah?”

“We will,” I promise, meaning every word.

“Love you,” she offers before she turns back to the elevator.

She has no idea what those two words mean to someone who has lost everyone in her life. They’re everything. “Love you, too. ”

As I leave Hunt Pharmaceuticals, my mind buzzes with everything I’ve seen and heard. Florence’s work is groundbreaking, awe-inspiring, and terrifying all at once. I can’t shake the feeling that this project—this science—is going to change all our lives in ways none of us can predict.