Lena blocked the blow with her forearm. Metal hit oak. Franklin grimaced from the impact, which had probably sent vibrations all the way to his shoulder. She moved forward and struck his wrist. I heard bone snap.

Franklin cried out. His partner tried to roll free. Deb bent down, and he caught her in the nose with a wild punch. Blood poured down her face, but she simply bared her teeth and grabbed the back of his neck.

“Don’t kill him!” I wasn’t sure which of them I was talking to.

Lena raised her bokken. “I won’t ask again, Franklin. You’re going to open these cells, and then you’re going to help us find the sirens who arrived here last night.”

“Look around, freak,” he spat. “I hope you liked the tour, because you and your friends are going to spend the rest of your lives in a prison just like it.”

“This isn’t a prison,” Lena said quietly. “It’s a laboratory. You think I didn’t see the tools in the exam room where you and your partner were cowering? Scalpels made of steel, silver, gold, titanium . . . for testing our weaknesses, right? Dental tools for extracting vampiric fangs. Electrical probes. Neatly labeled test tubes of everything from holy water and colloidal silver to various types of acid. Then there’s the locked refrigerator with the biohazard warning. Blood and tissue samples? Or are you testing bioweapons on your captives?”

“If they’re experimenting on inhuman subjects, where are the researchers?” I asked.

“Four doctors oversee the testing,” said Franklin’s partner. “They come in a couple times a week.”

“Shut your face, Johnson,” snapped Franklin.

“Fuck you, man. This place is messed up and you know it.”

“Oh, Franklin doesn’t care about that,” Lena continued. “He has other interests.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Johnson spun. “What the hell did you do, man?”

“Nothing. I didn’t—”

“You think you can hide your desires from a nymph?” Lena examined the edge of her bokken. “I could feel your filth from beyond these walls. What you wanted to do. What you’d done.”

“You sick fuck,” snapped Johnson. “What’s wrong with you?”

“My friends want to find those sirens,” said Lena. “I want that too, but I can’t concentrate on sirens when your twisted lust permeates the air. It’s an oily smoke that clings to the skin, polluting everything it touches. I mean to end that pollution.”

“I’ll open the cell doors,” Franklin whimpered. “They’re computer controlled, but there’s an override code in case of emergency. Fire, computer failure, that sort of thing. It’s how I . . .” He flushed and stared at the floor.

“How you took this girl’s brother from his cell,” Lena finished. She hauled him to his feet. “Use it.”