Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“You sure we can’t catch anything?” One of the soldiers asks, a thin layer of sweat on his sunburned brow.
“Trust me. I’m sure.” Wyatt, wearing a ratty flannel button-down over an even rattier Nirvana t-shirt, doesn’t seem to inspire confidence in the soldier. He adjusts his mask and continues carting broken equipment out into the anteroom.
I sidle over to Evie who’s trying to hook up a fresh monitor to her desktop. “Hey, you still good to hit a vein?” I whisper.
She turns to look at me, a wrinkle of confusion forming along her brow. “Yeah, why?”
“Come on.” I dig through some salvaged supplies piled on a table, then lead Evie out of the lab and into the ladies’ room.
“What’s going on?” She watches as I lay out some paper towels, then the vials.
I look around and try to gauge if anyone would’ve bugged the women’s restroom. Maybe. Crap.
“Just trust me, okay? I need you to test my blood. I might be—” How can I explain this in code. “I might be sick. You know, yesterday, um, when all those people came, I was … hurt.”
“Shit! Why didn’t you tell me before? I can check you. Where—”
“No.” I hold my hands out, palms toward her. “I’m not hurt anymore. I’m better.”
“You’re better?” She’s not following.
“Yes!” I nod emphatically. “Better now. Better after I got some help from a new friend. One who you thought was out of this world.”
She runs her hands along my arms as if she can find wounds there. “All the blood on your clothes, on the couch. That couldn’t have been yours. That—”
“Mine.” I nod again.
“That’s not poss—” Her eyes go wide. “Help from a new friend,” she whispers. “Out of this world. Alien.”
I tap my nose and point at her.
She snaps her mouth shut, realization on her face. I have Juno’s Miracle running through my veins, and with any luck, we’ll be able to get a good look at it. After a deep breath in through her nose, she washes her hands, then slips on the gloves.
“Butterfly in the hand.” I make a fist.
“Delicate veins, eh?” She plucks the small needle from the countertop.
“Just difficult.”
She takes my hand and peers at the back of it, then thumps one of the veins. “Doesn’t look too bad. You must be hydrating.”
I close my eyes and think back to the last drink I remember having. It wasn’t water. Valen’s blood when he saved my life. Hot iron, like touching a battery to your tongue.
“Here goes.”
Turns out, Evie’s a great stick. She takes four vials of blood in rapid fashion, then removes the needle and applies pressure.
“You think …” She stares at the vials. “You think this is it?”
I bite my bottom lip, my heart thumping wildly at her question. What if it is? What if we have what we need? I still don’t know how it works, how Valen’s blood is able to heal. But we’re about to find out.
Wyatt has been in the HCL for the last few hours working with my blood samples. I can’t sit still, my mind wandering to what happened last night. Every time I think about Valen, about his lips on mine, my concentration evaporates. I find myself staring at the door and willing Wyatt to show up with good news.
Maybe even bad news. Anything to take my mind off him. Valen’s touch. God, I let him bite me. I both cringe and thrill at the memory.
“Come on, Wy,” I mutter under my breath.
Still nothing.
I’m nibbling on a piece of toast slathered with pear jam that Gene magicked up from somewhere when Gretchen rolls over to me, her voice low. “Georgia, I think I might have something.”
My eyes probably bug out of my head, but I force my face into a mask of no-big-deal. Does she know what Evie and I are up to? Did Wyatt send her data before anyone else? I’m about to crawl out of my skin. “Sure, I can take a look.” I try to say it with nonchalance as I take another bite of the toast—then choke on it and start coughing hard enough for her to smack me on the back.
“You good?” she asks.
“Perfect,” I say, my voice strangled.
“Okay.” She doesn’t seem reassured as she rolls back to her desk. I follow and cough into my elbow a few more times to stop the itch in my throat. Sitting beside her, I offer her the last few bites of toast. “Probably best if I give up.”
She shakes her head, her fingers tangling together in her lap. “I ordered some protein samples from Atlanta. They came yesterday with the shipment of inert virus.”
“Right.” Relief flows through me. This isn’t about my blood. There’s something else she’s found. What could it be? I keep myself calm as she taps a few keys and pulls up an image.