Page 36 of Even Vampires Bleed (Even Ever After #2)

Cassiopé

T his feels awfully like déjà vu.

Maybe this time we didn’t ask for the doctor because we already know where the tendrils are hooked in and what parts of his brain could be impacted, but it’s all the same.

The doctor could join us any minute now, though. His work on Gabriel’s wings will finish anytime now.

It feels like a repeat.

Except that Léandre isn’t drunk this time, and my dad isn’t here.

It feels like a repeat, but at the same time, like an eternity has passed. I dread Léandre losing his memories even more this time.

I didn’t know the first time.

I had just met him, and obviously I liked him at first sight, but I didn’t know how I would grow to truly like him.

And now I have all those feelings that make me feel like my heart has been dropped in a blender at full speed, and there is no way to piece it back together.

I thought it couldn’t get worse.

But I thought that when I believed him to be happy—or at least unbothered by the memory loss—I can see him plain as day… He’s not ready to lose his me mories again.

And my heart feels crushed even more.

And at the same time, I feel bad.

Why? Because there’s some twisted part of my brain that tells me that at least this time he won’t forget us, because there is no us this time around.

Fucked up? Yes, totally, but like I said, I wouldn’t wish the inside of my mind on even my worst enemies.

Actually, scratch that. I would gladly see this happening to Gabrielle or the new Michael. They can forget each other completely for all I care. Not that I think they would hurt the way I do, but if they felt even a small piece of what I’m going through, then it would be worth it.

I very much want them dead, but I’ll settle with them being reset.

Oh gods, this feels like playing at being God. You don’t like someone’s way of thinking? Reset. Oops, they’re a whole new person.

“Same, more or less,” Angélique answers the redhead.

Oh, yes, I forgot that she asked something.

She nods in Léandre’s direction and gets the same small box as last time from her bag and deposits it on the ground.

“Milton, can you do a brain scan? The whole picture, not just around the devious microchip.”

I forgot how she addressed her artificial intelligence as if they were a friend.

“Right away, Miss F,” it responds before lighting the office with a smaller version of Léandre’s brain than last time, as if the AI knew to adapt to the size of the room.

All I see are the tendrils lighting up through Léandre’s brain, because it doesn’t feel like anything changed since last time.

The electronic girl must have thought the same because without any prompting from anyone she says, “Compare it to the last scan we have,” to the AI and the old scan seems to appear right under the holographic image that was displayed, making all the differences more visible.

Because there are indeed differences.

They’re small, and I couldn’t explain what they mean, but they’re here. Some of the tendrils on the new scan look smaller, and others look like they’ve broken into small pieces.

I don’t know what that means for the way the microchip would work if it was activated again.

What would happen to Léandre this time?

“We need the doctor,” I say under my breath, but I know everyone here heard me. Maybe not the redhead, though, human ears and all.

Elhyor types on his holo and then the doctor’s face appears in front of him.

“What?”

Well, hello to you, too.

“Are you done with Gabriel’s wings?” Elhyor asks. It seems two can play the same impolite game.

The image on the holo spans a bit to show more of the room the doctor is in, and we can all see his gloved hands covered with blood.

But more than that, we can also see the wings Léandre brought back hours ago attached to the back of the man right next to him.

He’s still lying on his front and the white—and also slightly pink from the blood around the wounds—wings are poking at his back, the tips of them grazing the ground.

It would look gruesome and slightly scary if the archangel’s torso wasn’t moving up and down with the slow breathing that denotes his sleeping state.

“What do you think?” the doctor asks.

“Good. Get to my office. We have something else for you,” Elhyor says and then hangs up.

There is no doubt in his mind that the doctor will be there in a short time. Elhyor pays him more than well to always be ready for anything.