Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Did you come close to finding a cure?”
“I don’t know.” Thud, thud, thud. Each beat of my heart is another hammer blow to the spike in my head.
Whitbine nods and looks somewhere over my shoulder. “You see, my lord? This is where I fear the tampering has occurred. She recalls her work—though not in detail—and has completely blocked out any recollection of the cure.”
“You’ve no need to explain your incompetence to me.” Valen’s voice, low and snide.
“Of course, my lord.” Whitbine turns back to me. “Did you use vampire blood to create a cure?”
“I don’t know.” I shake from the impact, from the agony inside. A pained moan rises in my throat.
Whitbine holds up a clawed finger. “No blubbering. No sound except your answers to my questions.”
Tears well, but I don’t make a sound. I can’t.
“Were you present when Lord Theo Dragonis was killed?” he asks.
“I don’t know.” I gasp out the answer, my vision flooding with black spots. I remember this. I’m close to passing out. The pain has gone somewhere deep now, in my marrow, in places where no human can withstand it.
“Who killed Lord Theo Dragonis?”
“I don’t know.” Just saying the words is like swallowing lava. My blood is boiling, everything inside me screaming and clawing.
“You know the answer, Dr. Clark. Now tell me who killed him,” Whitbine demands.
Like a rubber band stretched too far, my mind snaps. The blackness takes over, swamping me like a murder of crows taking flight. No Whitbine. No questions. No pain. Only me, alone in the velvet dark.
7
Recovered Journal of Dr. Georgia Clark
March 28, Year 1, Emergence Era
Candice. It’s a waking nightmare. Over and over again, I see her. I can’t stop it replaying in my head. There’s no way out of this, no way to stop what Juno has set into motion. And now my time is ticking away. Gregor’s ultimatum is final. There’s no way out. Not for me. Not for anyone around me. I’m alone in this knowledge.
Alone.
“There are three bloodlines. Dragonis, Corvidion, and Tantun. Remember them. Repeat them back to me.” A voice, a warm hand on my shoulder. He tells me the bloodlines and demands I remember them. The splitting pain in my head tells me to forget, but I repeat them as best I can. “Dragonis, Corvidion, and Tantun.”
“Doctor.” A hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently.
I roar to consciousness, my body seizing as I look around wildly. Whitbine. Where is he?
“He’s gone.” Warm brown eyes meet mine. Melody. “You were talking in your sleep.”
I surge away from her, pressing my back to the headboard. I’m in my room again.
She stands and backs away, her chin down. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
My panic, all-consuming for a single moment, begins to ebb. Still, my heart thunders in my chest, and I think I might be having a panic attack. I press my sweaty palms to my cheeks and try to regulate my breathing. My stomach cramps, acid creeping up my throat.
I fix my gaze on the wall ahead, telling myself I’m okay.
I’m okay.
I’m okay.
I’m okay.
I’m back in my room. Whitbine is gone. I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive.
I inspect my wrists. No new bites. Only the scars from the old ones. He didn’t take my blood, just another sliver of my sanity. That’s all. Just that tiny concession.
In and out. Slowly. I catch my breath and orient myself. The same walls, same stone windows. I’m not safe, but at least I’m somewhere familiar.
“How did I get back here?”
“Lord Dragonis brought you after the … interview.”
A dry laugh catches in my throat. An ‘interview’. As if I was applying for a professor spot and Whitbine was the department chair. Nothing more than questions about my interests and what I bring to the faculty. How I see my future, what research projects are on the horizon.
“I’ve brought something to help with your stomach.” She gestures to a golden tray at the foot of my bed. “Toast and the like.”
The old me would thank her. The one who was raised in Texas with a graceful mom and a gentle dad. One with a sister who made sure I minded my manners. A lifetime ago. This me is suspicious. My naivety died in that cell, or perhaps before. As with so many things, I don’t remember exactly when it happened.
“You’re Blood Dragonis?” I ask.
“Yes.” Her eyes meet mine again.
“Have you ever compelled me?” I glance at the food tray. It isn’t the first time I’ve wondered if they’ve been spiking my food with their blood, but it’s the first time I’ve been bold enough—or foolish enough—to ask.
“No.” She doesn’t flinch.
I feel like she isn’t lying to me, but it’s not as if I can trust her. Not her, not anyone in this damned castle. She’s the enemy. Her people are hellbent on wiping mine out. I’ve spent plenty of effort on trying not to think about what’s going on outside these stone walls. Is the world out there burning at Gregor’s behest? My stomach lurches, and I push the thought away.