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17

A nother week, another vial of blood that reveals nothing except additional mysteries. This sample has the same oddities as the others with the added twist of unknown antibodies. It’s the first we’ve seen in any of the plasmas we’ve collected, but it’ll take time before we can discover what they are precisely.

Gretchen and I have begun mixing healthy blood samples with the vampire cells. I thought there might be some real fireworks, some sort of magical interaction. There isn’t. The cells simply coexist together, then degrade together, though the vampire cells die at a faster rate. There’s nothing there. Wyatt did an experiment in the high containment lab with a viral culture and a direct drop of the vampire blood. Nothing there, either. Of course, I didn’t think a blunt mixing of cells was going to achieve a cure, but it was worth a try. There’s more to it. Something we aren’t realizing. It’s like a word on the tip of your tongue or a great thought you have before you fall asleep that you can’t remember in the morning.

I focus on the work. I can’t let my mind wander. It’s too dangerous, too crippling. I haven’t seen Juno, haven’t heard a word from anyone at the White House. The only proof I have she’s alive are her news conferences. The blood resort in LA opened, and there she was on the screen, encouraging everyone to volunteer. I’m sure no one noticed the dullness in her eyes or the forced smile on her lips. Just me, someone who loves her, even if that’s complicated now.

Valen’s presence has been brief and cold each night, as if he loathes me as much as I loathe him. Not possible.

“Here.” Aang hands me half of a chicken salad sandwich.

“Poisoned?” I ask as I take it from him.

He rolls his eyes. “You look even worse than usual, and you skipped lunch. Eat something. You’re making me depressed.”

“Mean,” Evie scolds from her workstation.

They haven’t pried too much since I returned to the lab. I fed them some lies about an unscheduled visit to the White House to explain my absence. That, coupled with me having a ‘cold’ was enough to satisfy them, or at least they’re pretending it was. Wyatt seemed to believe it, but Aang’s eyebrows were at a marked high point during my explanation, and I saw him huddling with the others when they thought I was busy crunching data. They know something happened to me. Something bad. But they’re all smart enough not to push.

I take the sandwich and walk out past the gargoyles. Now that I know they work for Gregor and the vampires, I quicken my pace around them, but I also spare enough time to give them the dirtiest looks in my arsenal. They ignore me just as before.

The atrium is quiet, everyone back in the lab. My Secret Service agent naps on one of the sofas. I could tell him he’s absolute shit at his job, but there’s no point. He can’t protect me from people like Valen. No one can.

I pull a chair around to face one of the windows and plop down. It’s windy out today, another stormfront on the way if I had to guess.

Even with the occasional gust, it’s too quiet in here. I don’t like the quiet anymore, not like I used to. Now when there’s nothing to distract me, my mind wanders to Candice. Georgia . I put the sandwich down, only a few bites missing, and sit back. I try to think of something else, anything else, but it’s no good. I’m right back in that horrible place on the marble floor while Candice bleeds out. Her blood smells like iron, and it sprays in fine droplets at first. Then Gregor’s fangs tear and destroy. More blood. My stomach churns, acid rising in my throat.

“Georgia?”

I jump.

“Sorry.” Gage stands just behind me to my left. “I called your name a few times but …” He shrugs.

“Oh, I was just—I, um.” I stand. “Sorry.” My heart is pounding, my skin clammy. I wipe my hands on my jeans. “Finishing up lunch. Guess I was daydreaming.”

“I do a lot of that when I’m on duty.” He smiles then hurries to add, “But I’m still protecting you when I’m thinking about pina coladas on the beach. Don’t worry.”

He protects me just as well as my Secret Service agent, but there’s no point hurting his feelings by telling him that.

“That sounds nice.” I don’t remember the beach, not really. We went a few times when I was a kid, but I was too afraid of the crabs to enjoy myself. I’d sit in the beach chair, the umbrella overhead—our mom always made sure I had two layers of sunscreen, a huge hat, and spent most of my time in the shade. The crabs, though, they were the real problem. While Juno played in the surf, I’d sit and wait and watch. And sure enough, if I stayed still for long enough, the crabs would emerge from their holes and scurry around on the sand. Close enough that they could’ve snapped me with their claws if they’d wanted to. They terrified me even though they were tiny, nearly see-through. Just something about them—living underground like that, completely hidden and then shooting out to look for unsuspecting prey.

“You’re gone again.” Gage steps closer.

I rub my eyes. “Sorry. Haven’t been sleeping well.” I glance toward the lab. “I should be getting back.”

“All right. I just wanted to check on you, see how you’re doing.” There’s genuine concern in his eyes. “You’ve been working too hard. You look exhausted.”

“I don’t have time for exhaustion.” I glance up at him and wonder what it would be like to tell him what happened, to tell him the truth. And then that moment passes. I can’t burden anyone else with what I saw. Then again, what if he already knows? After all, he’s passing these coded notes.

“Well, I’m here if you need to talk. I also give great massages.” He gives me a wolfish half smile.

“That’s good to know. Aang’s been complaining about needing one, so I’ll pass the info along.”

That gets a full smile from him. “You do that.” He reaches for my hand and presses a scrap of paper into it. “Let me know if you need anything.” He releases my hand, the sudden warmth of him gone in an instant.

I spend the rest of the day in the lab. The others have stopped complaining about the sample. Instead, they’ve thrown countless hours and a multitude of methods of study at what we’ve been given. They’re working hard to find the cure. I, on the other hand, have veered into a different area of study—how to harm the misshapen blood cells.

“Where are you going?” Evie asks as I head toward the doors. “A walk? I was just thinking about stretching my legs before it gets dark.”

I’m actually going outside to see what happens to the blood when sunlight hits it, but I suppose I can do that with company. I remember enough pop culture vampire lore to give this a try, and since I’ve been making extra study of the gargoyles Heckle and Jeckle, I’ve noticed they never move anywhere into direct sunlight. Maybe there’s something to it. Something that could help.

I’ll just have to take care Evie doesn’t see what I’m doing with the sample. I can’t have her asking questions that could lead to trouble. “Sure. I’d love company.”

She wraps her golden hair on top of her head and clips it in place. Smart, given how windy it is. Then we walk out together. Gage seems surprised, but he waves as we turn to the right and head away from the White House, the wind at our backs.

Evie inhales. “Fresh air. I swear the lab is so stuffy sometimes even though it has a dozen layers of air scrubbers and recirculators.”

“It can feel heavy in there. Maybe because we aren’t making headway. I don’t know.” I have the glass slides in my pocket with precious bits of blood sample on them. I’ll pop them out into the sun once we’re done with the walk and Evie’s safely inside.

“We are.” She pulls her jacket, the collar a bright pink fur, closed. “I think we’re in that stage where we can’t see the forest for the trees, you know? I hate that part.”

I know what she means. Before any discovery, the scientists invariably report how they felt lost in the weeds. Like the thread they were searching for was right in front of them, but no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t grasp it. Is that us? Are we on the cusp of discovery or are we trudging along in the dark, going nowhere, learning nothing?

A heavy sigh escapes me at the thought.

“We’ll get there.” Evie bumps her shoulder into mine. “We have everything we need to find an answer.”

“Except viable samples,” I say wryly as we take a left, the sun warming us as we move along parallel to Capitol Hill.

She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, except that. I’ve actually been going back through some of the earlier studies, looking at possible mutations. The virus has been improbably static in its makeup, but maybe somewhere in the past there was a mutation, but no one noticed. If I can find some evidence of that …” She trails off as we hear gunshots.

The wind changes direction, blowing my hair across my face. That’s when the sounds of yelling make it to our ears.

“What’s going on?” She turns, looking for the source of the noise. “A protest or something?”

More gunshots, and then piercing screams. My heart stutters, beating a panicked rhythm. Instinct kicks in. We’re in danger, and it’s close.

“We should go back.” Movement down a side street catches my attention, and then I see people running, some of them screaming. “Evie, we have to go!” I yank her arm, and we take off toward the hotel.

The gunfire is everywhere now, and smoke wafts through the air. When I inhale, my throat immediately begins to itch, my eyes watering.

I snatch the hem of my jacket and press it to my nose, but the damage is already done. I can barely see, and Evie and I are coughing so much it’s slowing us down. The screams grow louder, the smoke thicker. I stumble, my feet catching on the curb, and I fall.

Scrambling to my feet, I realize I’ve lost Evie in the fog.

“Evie!” I yell, but the sound seems to be swallowed up by the smoke. “Evie!” A coughing fit takes me, and I double over, my nostrils on fire right along with my throat.

Someone barrels past me and knocks me to the ground, and then more come. I crawl across the sidewalk and huddle against a storefront, covering my face with my jacket, though I can’t escape the gas.

The gunfire grows louder, and I can barely make out people in military fatigues and gas masks marching toward me.

Shit ! I have to get out of sight until this is over. I try to hold my breath and get back to my hands and knees, but I cough almost immediately as I begin to crawl. Everything is burning, even my skin is starting to feel singed. I keep going, forcing myself to move despite the pain. Once I turn the corner of the building, I lean back against it.

“Get up,” a tinny voice commands.

That’s when I feel the muzzle of a gun against my temple.

“I-I’m not?—”

“I said get the fuck up.” The soldier in the gas mask presses the pistol hard against my head.

I hold up my hands. “Okay. I am.” Still coughing, I force myself to my feet.

He grabs my arm and yanks me around, then slams me into the wall so hard I see stars. “Fucking bitch.”

Warmth leaks down my cheek.

He presses the gun to the back of my head. “This is a red zone for civilians. I’m allowed to shoot you on sight just for being in here.”

“I’m—”

“I didn’t say you could fucking talk.” He slams the muzzle against the top of my skull.

I scream, but it’s cut off by another coughing fit. Pressing my forehead against the brick, I can’t get my breath. I can’t see.

I’m going to die right here, right now. Killed by the people who are supposed to be protecting me.

The pressure of the muzzle disappears. I try again to explain. “I’m Dr.—”

“I thought you told me to call you Georgia.” Valen’s bored drawl cuts through my words.

I whirl. There’s no sign of the soldier, though I can’t see particularly well or far. “What?—”

He takes my arm and pulls me from the wall. I cough and shudder, my body rebelling against whatever is in the gas. With an easy movement, he lifts me and drapes me over his shoulder.

I cough and cough, my lungs on fire as he moves through the smoke, hefting me in a fireman’s carry as if I weigh nothing. I can’t breathe. He moves steadily, his gait quick, his steps light. The gas seems to clear a little, the sun shining through the haze and stinging my eyes.

“Georgia!” someone yells.

“Open it,” Valen grates, and then we’re inside. At the hotel.

He lays me on one of the sofas. I swipe at my eyes, but it only makes them burn more.

“Fuck, they got caught up in the shit.” Gage’s voice.

“Evie!” I croak.

“She’s here!” Gretchen’s voice seems far away. “She made it. Don’t worry.”

“Oh, god, her face! What is it? Tear gas? Mustard?” Aang’s horrified voice comes from behind me.

“It’s a mix. We only use?—”

“How do we help her?” Valen sounds just shy of murder, his voice like a hammer on coffin nails. But he isn’t coughing. The gas doesn’t seem to affect him at all.

“We have to get her into a cold shower.” Gage grabs my shoulder. “Come on?—”

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Valen snarls.

I’m lifted again, this time cradled in Valen’s arms as he rushes to the elevator and then up to my room. I’m crying. Everything hurts. It’s not just inside anymore, not just Candice’s fear eating me up, it’s the gas, the poison, whatever the hell was in that smoke. I’m on fire everywhere. Burning, turning orange, brown, then charred black.

When the first jet of cold water hits me, I yelp and try to escape.

“Don’t move.” Valen’s hands grip my shoulders, and I realize we’re both in the shower fully dressed. Turning me gently, he angles my face up toward the spray.

I wince, but after only a few moments, I feel the slightest bit of relief.

“Blink. You need to clear it from your eyes.” He swipes at my face, wiping off the tears, the water, even the snot that’s constantly running from my nose. “Keep blinking.” He runs his hand over my hair, wetting it. “There’s blood.”

I tense, my shakes growing more violent.

“You’re safe.” He takes his hand from my hair. “Don’t be afraid.”

“D-d-don’t b-be af-f-fraid?” My harsh laugh turns into a cough. I’m bleeding in the shower with a bloodthirsty vampire, and he’s telling me not to be afraid. I think the gas may have done something to my brain, because my laugh-cough turns into a sob before I get a grip on myself and simply go back to shivering.

“There’s gas in your clothes, too. I can smell it.” He strips off my jacket, ignoring my yell of protest. “Take it off. It’s poisoned.”

I cross my shaking arms over my chest as I turn toward him. “I can take it from here.” I try to look up at him, but my vision is still swimming. All I can make out is the dark slash of his hair, and I know without even seeing that he’s scowling at me.

“You almost died out there.” He says it so quietly I can barely hear it over the sound of the water.

“Don’t worry,” I snap back. “You saved my life. Gregor will be pleased his investment is still going strong.”

He stiffens, and I could swear the water suddenly feels colder. Without another word, he steps from the shower and leaves.

I spend the next half hour under the spray. Once I’ve stripped and scrubbed every inch of my skin, I continue to let the water run over me. When I’m finally shivering too much to stand it, I turn off the water and step out. The mirror is a horror show. Red eyes, the skin on my nostrils is flaking, a lump and a cut on my forehead from hitting the wall, and my entire face is puffy. I look like I went twelve rounds with a hornet’s nest.

Digging around in my cabinet, I find some pain relievers and toss several back, then wrap myself in my bath robe and a towel for my hair. Curling up in my bed, I shiver as my face burns, my eyes too swollen to close all the way.

“—let me see her now, or I’ll have you strung up by your goddamn toes.” A gruff voice pulls my attention toward the hallway.

“Quaint,” Valen responds, the word laced with derision.

He’s still here? I stand and walk to the hall.

“Jesus H. The mug on you.” Vince, who seems to have gone completely gray in the space of a month, glares at me. “What the hell were you doing outside the safe zone?” he barks.

“I was taking a walk!” I yell back. “I can’t take a walk without getting jumped by assholes in gas masks?”

Valen steps aside and leans against the wall, watching us with interest.

“You could’ve been killed.” Vince storms past Valen and stops right in front of me. “Your sister’s worried sick about you.”

“About me? She’s worried about me ?” I would laugh if my throat weren’t so sore.

He glances at Valen, then jerks his chin toward the living room. “Georgia, come in here. Let me get a better look at you.”

I follow him and sit on the sofa as he takes over one of the chairs. He’s not just gray, he’s lost weight too. He looks almost gaunt compared to his usual fullness.

“Are you okay?” I lean back and close my eyes. It takes effort to keep them open when they’re this swollen.

“Me? I’m fine and dandy. Never been better. You look fucking awful!” At least he hasn’t lost his overabundance of snark.

I lower my voice to a rasp. “Did Juno tell you about what happened to …” I can’t say her name. Not out loud. Not yet. Not without seeing her, hearing her, smelling her blood. Georgia . My stomach churns as I watch him through slitted eyes.

He scrubs a hand down his whiskered face, grief writ large in his hitched breath. I’ve never seen him look so defeated. Like part of his light has gone out. I suppose some of mine has, too.

“Yes, she told me.” His gaze flickers to the hallway where Valen is likely still standing. “Don’t trust any of them, Georgia. Not a single one,” he says with quiet vehemence.

“I don’t.”

“Good.” He clears his throat, his eyes watery but no tears falling.

“And Juno? Is she …” ‘Okay’ doesn’t seem like the right word. I don’t think any of us are okay.

“She’s tough.” He nods. “She’ll be fine.”

I can hear the lie in his tone, and I wonder if he can, too. I wonder if he’s lying to himself the same way he’s lying to me.

“What was that?” I gesture toward the window. “A protest?”

He throws his hands up. “People will always complain no matter what we do. The Army has already cleared the zone, so you’re safe. Just … don’t wander too far from here.” His visage turns even more grim. “I’m going to skin your Secret Service agent.”

I’d forgotten about him. “Is he okay? Was he out there?”

“No, he was taking a break, one that involved smoking weed on the loading dock. You won’t be seeing him again.”

“Good. She has all the protection she needs.”

I jump as Valen walks in and stops at the window in his usual spot.

“In fact, I’ve taken the rooms on the floor below to ensure her safety since you’ve proven incompetent at best, intentionally derelict in your duty at worst.”

Vince stands. “Is that what Gregor wants? You’re going to be her jailor from now on?”

“Shouldn’t you be scurrying back to the White House?” Valen doesn’t bother to turn around. “Perhaps it’s time for another press conference?”

Vince turns red, his eyes narrowing. “If you touch a hair on her head, you’ll?—”

“Regret it, rue the day, so on and so forth.” Valen sighs. “You’re dismissed.”

Vince fists his hands. “Georgia, like I said, don’t trust a single one of them.”

“I won’t. I can’t,” I answer honestly as I get to my feet, my body aching and tired.

His face softens as he looks at me. “A fucking mess.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t use gas on peaceful protesters, hmm?”

“Peaceful?” Vince scoffs. “That’s cute. They want to bring down the government, even if it means it falls right on their stupid heads.” He steps over to me and pats me awkwardly on the shoulder. “I’m watching out for Juno, all right? I need you to watch out for yourself.”

“You can count on me.” I give him a sad thumbs-up.

He gives me a not-so-sure look but doesn’t argue. “I have to get back.”

“Hey, will you tell Juno …” I pause. What can I say to her? What could ever encompass all the things I’ve learned about her in the past month? Emotion bubbles up, so much of it raw and unspeakable. I take a deep breath and say, “Tell her I’m all right.”

“Will do.” He squeezes my shoulder then trudges away down the hall. When the elevator opens, I hear several voices all at once.

Valen groans and crosses his arms as he continues looking out over DC.

“—course we can see her. We’re doctors, asshole.” Evie is giving someone hell.

I peek around the corner and see everyone pouring into the apartment.

“Wait, this is her place? Bullshit!” Aang throws his hands up. “Mine’s not even half this size. A kitchen! She has a kitchen! What the fu?—”

“Aang, can it,” Gretchen scolds and rolls past him, spotting me. “Are you okay?” She stops when she sees Valen, his back to the room. Her eyes wide, she glances between us.

“Yeah.” My voice dies on a croak, and I have several painful coughs before I try to speak again. “Yeah, I’m okay.” It sounds even worse the second time.

“Jesus.” Evie similarly gawks at Valen, who doesn’t have the decency to even address the newcomers, then takes my arms and walks me backwards. “Sit down before you fall down.”

“What about you?” I ask as she gently helps me back to the sofa. “Your eyes are red.”

“It’s nothing.” She waves a hand, then dabs at her nose with a tissue. “My mucous membranes were made for chemical warfare.” She sniffles and gives a wry smile. “You got the worst of it. What the hell happened? We were running, and then I looked at you, but you were gone.”

“I fell.” I shrug.

“That’s not the only thing that happened.” Gretchen is behind me, and I feel her fingers in my hair. “You have a goose egg back here.”

Aang’s been bitching in the background, but finally he comes this way, his voice growing louder. “Did you see that? Her bedroom is bigger than my entire place. This is—holy shit, is that him ?” He stops short and stares at Valen.

Valen turns around, his face in full-on scowl mode, then stalks from the apartment without so much as a word.

“What the fuck?” Aang plops down in the seat across from me and stares at where Valen had been standing. “Like seriously, what the fuck? He just hangs out here?”

“He’s my liaison on the cure. The blood. All the—” I wave my hand in a vague motion. “The stuff.”

“Liaison with who? He reports to someone?” Evie asks gently as Gretchen rolls around to my front and inspects my face.

I don’t know how much to tell them. Of course this isn’t the first time they’ve asked me about Valen and his people, but back then I didn’t have any answers. Now I do. But they aren’t safe to share.

“Yeah, my sister,” I lie.

Aang arches a dark brow. “Can’t she just ask you herself?”

“She’s busy. Valen is the one who brings the samples, so it’s just easier if I tell him our findings—well, our lack of findings—and he … you know, he writes up the report.” I try to imagine Valen sitting at a computer and writing a report. Unnerving .

“Forget that. Tell us what happened.”

Wyatt appears with a first aid kit in one hand. “Figured we’d need this.” He perches on the sofa beside me and dabs at the cut with alcohol wipes.

“Wait, how’d you all get up here?”

Aang rolls his eyes. “You think you’re so exclusive, do you?”

“No, I just … It’s not like I can walk into your rooms, can I?”

“That part was me.” Gage saunters in from the kitchen, a glass of ice water in his hand.

I make a show of looking around. “Is there anyone else in this clown car of an apartment?” A splinter of worry creeps through me at Gage being here. Is Valen going to skewer him? Then again, we aren’t alone. Maybe?—

“Stop moving.” Wyatt tsks and keeps wiping at my forehead.

“Everybody shut up so she can spill!” Evie harrumphs and takes the water from Gage.

I sit back and let them fuss over me as I recount what happened to their engaging ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ and ‘that prick’ when I tell them about the soldier who wanted to shoot me. “I still don’t know what the protest was about.”

“The blood resorts,” Gage says. He’s standing where he has a view of the hallway and the rest of the open areas of the apartment, his body tense. “A lot of people have hatched a conspiracy theory that it’s the government doing experiments on people to create an even deadlier version of the virus. There’s also a second, competing theory that they’re stealing healthy blood from the unsuspecting volunteers to replace the plague-ridden blood of billionaires and the Illuminati. Take your pick. Unrest has been spreading, but this is the first time since the outbreak started that we’ve had to muster for the Capitol.”

“By ‘muster’ do you mean ‘gas civilians’?” I ask curtly as Wyatt sticks a plaster over my cut.

Gage shakes his head. “I didn’t know about that. If I had any idea there was the slightest bit of risk, I never would’ve let you walk away. That protest—” He shakes his head. “I don’t think it was a coincidence.”

“Huh?” Wyatt finishes with my forehead.

“Nothing.” Gage’s expression goes from thoughtful to almost blank. “Nothing to worry about.”

I try to frown at him, but my face hurts too much to make a decent effort. That’s when I notice his eyes are red, too. “Did the gas get you?”

He shrugs and glances away. “When I heard the shots, I went after you.”

Oh, shit. He’d been looking for me. He didn’t find me, though.

Valen did. And just in time.

I don’t want to think about the soldier who hurt me, the things he said, the things he was prepared to do. I almost died today. Was it on Juno’s orders? Is she the one saying it’s okay to kill civilians? There’s no way she’d allow that. Then again, Gage seemed to think the protest was something more, something sinister almost. I don’t know who the bad guys are anymore, not when it comes to humans.

But that soldier… Somehow—I don’t know how—but somehow, I know he’s dead. I didn’t see it, but it’s like some visceral part of me felt it. There and gone in an instant.

Valen killed that soldier before he could kill me.

It’s a good thing I’m already numb inside, because if I weren’t, I truly wouldn’t know how to feel about any of it.