by Lili Zander
His voice trails off. Nero’s punched in a code into a keypad on the wall of the container tower. The wall slides open in a whisper of sound, revealing the gleaming white lobby hidden inside. “Welcome to the Florence Nightingale Center of Healing,” Nero says with a grin. “In honor of the humans who set it up, it’s named after an Old Earth healer. The operating rooms are on the higher levels. Shall we?”
I close my mouth and follow him inside. Saber shakes his head. “Let me guess,” he says dryly. “The Merin Underground uses this place when they have injuries they don’t want reported to the authorities.”
“Exactly. The doctors here knew better than to ask questions. Ah, I’ve missed this place. I used to get hurt all the time when I was a teenager. I’ve spent more nights here than I can count.”
“To the surprise of no-one,” Zeke quips. “Shall we?”
We make our way to an operating room. It is, like the lobby, spotless. There’s a waiting room adjacent to it, with a large glassed window that lets people see what’s going on in surgery, and Dr. Karling gestures for us to go into it.
“How come the hospital is empty?” I ask curiously. “The Merin Underground isn’t actively at war with the Empire, I know, but shouldn’t there be someone here?”
“Not today,” Ivar Karling replies soberly. “Given how contagious this virus is, I asked for the building to be evacuated. No need to take any unnecessary risks.” He glares at Saber. “I suggested that your men stay at home, but of course, they didn’t listen. Somehow, they seem to think they know more about communicable diseases than me.”
“That’s not true, and you know it,” Saber replies calmly. “I recognize you’re the expert. We’re just not letting Raven do this alone.”
I squeeze his hand. As much as I’d like to lecture them about the risk, I’m secretly glad they’re here. I’m far more nervous than I want to admit.
“You okay?” Nero asks softly. “You look really queasy.”
“I’ve never liked hospitals much,” I confess. “In the re-education camps, the doctor in charge loved to inflict pain on us. He was doing some kind of medical research, and he would use us as test subjects.” I haven’t thought of Dr. Josef Sand in years.
Nero's expression darkens. “What's his name?” he asks in a deceptively calm voice.
A little over a week ago, Nero beat a man to death with his bare hands.
“Don't worry, he's dead. He left a syringe containing his latest experimental ‘treatment’ lying around and Asha Kulkarni stabbed him with it.” I bare my teeth in a smile. “The guards thought he died of natural causes.”
“Good.”
Ivar Karling clears his throat, and I turn my attention to him. “I’m going to try to explain today’s procedure without getting too technical,” he says. “Human blood has four components—plasma, red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets. Levitan’s creation attacks white blood cells. But the virus doesn’t appear to have an adverse effect on humans, just vampires.”
“You’re basing this off a sample size of one,” Zeke argues. “The only person you know with the virus is Raven.”
“That’s a valid observation,” Dr. Karling agrees. “Nonetheless, I have a reasonable degree of confidence in my assertion. Vampires and humans have similar genetic material, but we’ve never seen a disease that affected both species. Any other questions?”
He sounds like he’s in a classroom. I nod at him to continue. “Today, we’re going to give you a transfusion of healthy white blood cells. Normally, blood transfusions have no effect on white blood cells. However, this virus is an exception.”
I squash the urge to ask him why. He’ll give me an answer, but much of it will go above my head. I don’t need to know how it works; I just need to know that it will.
“The transfusion is a multi-step procedure,” he says. “First, I’ll extract approximately four pints of blood from Raven. That’s the maximum I can extract without risking organ failure. Second, I’ll inject her full of blockers that will put the virus in a dormant state.”
“Hang on,” Zeke interrupts. “A blocker can be used as a vaccine, can’t it? Why not just distribute the vaccine while you find a cure?”
“Unfortunately, the blockers have no effect on vampires,” Karling replies. “They only work on human blood. Back to the procedure. The blockers will temporarily put the virus in a dormant state. The final step is to replace her lost blood with donor blood.”
“Seems simple,” Saber comments. “What’s the catch?”
Dr. Karling frowns. “The virus is highly contagious. The blockers only work for ten minutes. We’re going to repeat the procedure multiple times to lower its concentration in Raven’s blood. The whole thing should take six to eight hours.”
That doesn’t sound confidence-inducing. “But you think it’ll work?” I press the scientist. “I’ll be rid of this disease?”
“Anything can happen,” he replies. Thanks, Doctor. That’s reassuring. “But there’s no reason it shouldn’t work. Raven, I’ll be placing you under sedation for the next few hours. Gentlemen, I’ll give you a few minutes alone, and then we’ll get started.”
He leaves the waiting room, shutting the door behind him. I give my vampires a tremulous smile. “If all goes well,” I tell them, “You’ll get dinner at the end of this. Fresh blood from one newly de-virused human. Me.”
“Is that supposed to be a joke?” Nero demands, his lips twitching. “Because it’s terrible.”
Saber hugs me tight. “Dr. Karling is an expert,” he murmurs, his voice muffled in my hair. “You’re going to beat this thing.”
“You are.” Once Saber frees me from his bear hug, Zeke brushes his lips over mine. “You’re the strongest person I know. Stop worrying; you’ve got this.”
Nero hugs me too. “When you get out, we can work on your comedic timing,” he says. His expression turns serious. “We’re going to be right here. We’re not going anywhere.”
I give them one last set of hugs, soak in the power of their encouraging smiles and their unwavering support, and then step outside. Dr. Karling is waiting for me outside the operating room. He’s dressed in a containment suit. “Your blood is going to be everywhere,” he says, the words emerging from his face mask with a sibilant hiss. “Can’t take any chances. Ready?”
I've been ready for this ever since I saw Olaf Vander die on the ice deserts of Glacis. Since Adam Masev warned me that my blood could cause genocide. Since Ma Kaila wanted me to poison every last vampire on Boarus 4. “Let’s do this.”
Dr. Karling makes me lie down on the table. “First things first.” He pokes the tip of my finger with a needle and presses a drop of blood into a test tube. To it, he adds a clear liquid from a beaker. For a half-second, nothing happens, and then the liquid thickens and starts to smoke. The color changes. It goes from a pale pink to a blood red, and then, almost before I can register the change, to a virulent green. “The virus doing its job,” Dr. Karling explains. “Let’s try this again, this time with the blocker.”
He pricks my middle finger—ouch!—and collects a drop of my blood in a second test tube. This time, before he adds the clear liquid, he carefully adds an ounce of the purple-hued blocker. “Now watch,” he says.
I wait. The seconds tick by, but the liquid in the test tube remains purple. “Dormant,” Dr. Karling announces.
“Ta-dah,” I quip.
He chuckles. Filtered through the bio-mask, it sounds a little creepy. “Exactly.” He hangs a bag of blood on a stand to my right, and a bag of the purple blocker on a stand to my left. “It’s time to go bye-bye.”
When I wake up eight hours later, I’ll be clear of the virus. And Saber, Zeke, Nero and I can turn the page and go onto the next chapter of our lives, whatever that might look like.
Dr. Karling puts a breathing mask over my face. I take a deep breath and fall into darkness.
“It’s done.”
I blink the haze out of my eyes. Dr. Karli
ng has changed out of his containment suit back into his normal clothes. He beams down at me. “Congratulations, Raven. You’re clear.”
“I am?” I sit up, and the room spins around me. Guess I’m not going anywhere for a while. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I’ve tested your blood. It took six full flushes, seven gallons of donor blood, and eight hours, but you’re free of the virus. Stop fiddling with your bandages.”
I drop my hand guiltily. Both my wrists have medicated adhesive strips where the IV bit into my skin. “The guys are still here?”
“They’re in the waiting room. Do you want to see them now?”
It’s really over. Shouldn’t I feel different somehow? I don’t. I guess that’s not surprising. After all, as Dr. Karling has pointed out, the virus wasn’t designed to work on humans. “Yes please.”
The door opens, and Nero enters the room, a big smile on his face. Saber and Zeke are only a half-step behind. “How are you feeling?”
Like something’s wrong. “I’m fine.” I lift my wrist up to Nero. “Free and clear.”
“Mmm.” He takes a deep breath and winks at me. “Sweet and dangerous. Just like you.”
His fangs drop. The feeling of wrongness intensifies. “No,” I yelp, scrambling back. “Test it again.” I’m aware that I sound hysterical, but I don’t care. “One more time.”
“Raven, I assure you…” Dr. Karling starts, his tone patronizing.
“Do as she says, Dr. Karling.” Saber’s voice cracks like a whip. “Nero, retract your fangs.”
“The Empire preserve me from amateurs,” the scientist gripes. “Raven, do you think I’d leave something so important to chance? I’ve tested your blood three times. It’s clear.” He moves toward me with a needle. I bite my lip as the metal pinches my skin. He draws my blood into the barrel. “One more time.” He presses the plunger, and a drop of blood falls into the waiting test tube. He adds a splash of clear liquid from the beaker. “See?” he says, a long-suffering expression on his face. “Nothing to worry about.”
I stare at the glass tube. I can’t take my eyes off it. The liquid remains stubbornly pink, and I exhale in relief. Poor Dr. Karling. While I’ve been sedated, he’s been working. He must be exhausted.
I open my mouth to apologize and tell him he was right. That’s when the liquid in the test tube starts to smoke. As we watch, it thickens, turns blood red for a split second, and then the green taint spreads through it.
The transfusion didn’t work. The virus is still in my blood.
23
Raven
We’re all very quiet as we make our way back to our safe house. All of us except for Ivar Karling, who spends his time wondering out loud why his procedure didn't work. “Maybe I need to increase the number of transfusions next time,” he muses. “Or maybe we need to develop a better blocker.”
I keep quiet and let him talk. He's a scientist. To him, I'm an interesting experiment, a puzzle to be solved. Today's procedure was Version One. Dr. Karling is already thinking about what he’d change in Version Two.
But I'm not a science puzzle. I'm a person, and right now, I’m just numb. I’m drained to a husk. My emotions are flat. Though I warned myself not to, I had let myself hope.
But the instant that the blood in the test tube turned green, my hopes had been swiftly, thoroughly crushed.
Saber’s driving the skimmer. Dr. Karling sits next to him in the front. I sit in the back, Nero, and Zeke on either side of me, solid and reassuring,
Concern emanates in waves off my vampires. It seems impossible to believe we’ve known each other for less than a month. In just a few short weeks, I’ve come to care for them so much.
It’s more than caring. I've fallen in love with all three of them. If I had to leave them, my heart would be shredded into a million jagged little pieces.
But do I really have any other choice?
Ragnar wants Saber to sit on the Ruling Council. How is that going to be possible with me in the picture? I will have to mix and mingle with the elite of Starra, but my blood is a dead giveaway that there's something very wrong about me. One cut and every vampire will know the truth. If I’m menstruating, every vampire will discover who I really am.
My blood is tainted. Nero, Zeke, and Saber can’t drink from me. They might never be able to drink from me. What kind of future can we have?
None. The answer is none.
We pull up to the safe house. When we’re inside the courtyard, I turn to Dr. Karling. “Thank you for your help today,” I say woodenly.
He gives me a look of pity. “Raven, this is not the end,” he says. “This is just a setback. We can’t give up.”
I force a smile on my face. “I understand. Please excuse me, I need to be alone now.” I turn to my vampires. “Don’t follow me, please. I just want a few hours by myself.”
Hours pass. I huddle on my bed, too keyed up to sleep, too exhausted to get up. My stomach rumbles, but I ignore it, and eventually, the hunger goes away. My throat is dry, but I can’t summon up enough caring to get a glass of water.
Finally, there's a quiet knock. “Can I come in?” Saber asks through the door.
I contemplate sending him away, but I can't. This situation affects them too. They’ve got to be feeling just as crappy as I’m feeling right now. And as much as I want to, I can't hide here in my room and stew in my own misery. We’re going to need to make plans. That's probably what Saber is here for.
“Sure.”
The door slides aside, and Saber walks in. He's dressed casually. He’s wearing a pair of dark pants that hug his lower body very nicely, and a black shirt. In his hands, he carries the daggers.
I groan. “Saber, I'm really not in the mood for training right now.”
“That's the thing about training,” he says. “It's something that happens whether you're in the mood or not. But that's not the reason I'm here.”
I make room on the bed for him, and he sits down next to me, setting the daggers down on the mattress. “You want to talk about what we’re going to do next?”
He shakes his head. “No, that can wait. I thought I’d tell you the story of these swords.”
A prickle of interest courses through me. “Really? You’ve been so mysterious about them.”
A smile tugs at his lips. “Not mysterious, just waiting for the right time. You’re going to like this story.” He puts one of the blades on my lap. “The swords are a family heirloom. They're old, so old that the story of their origin is lost in the mists of time.”
“This sounds like the start of a bedtime story.”
He grins. “There are many things I want to do to you on this bed,” he says. “Telling you bedtime stories is not one of them.”
Even now, even through the despair I feel, when Saber looks at me with that look in his eyes, heat flashes through me. “Pity.”
He gives me a maddening half-smile. “You remember how Jomar Hafsson met the humans fleeing their planet and offered them shelter?”
“It’s not the kind of story you forget.”
“When the Treaty of Blood was signed, the vampires and the humans exchanged gifts. I don’t know what Jomar gave the humans, but they gave him a pair of swords, the Daggers of Xerxes.”
My eyes widen. “These swords?”
“Indeed. I've tried to look up their history, but all I know is the blades are very, very old. By the Old Earth calendar, they were made in the twenty-fifth century. By that time, humans were using guns as weapons, not swords. Most daggers made in this period were ceremonial weapons.”
“Not these though.” I’ve fought with them. I’ve oiled their blades. And they are older than I can imagine, a precious piece of human history dating back to the Great Resettlement.
“No, these are weapons, designed to kill. Whoever made them was a master in their craft. They have been handed down from one firstborn Hafsson to the next.” He glances at me. “It is customary to offer a betrothal gift to your partner
when you join a bô. These are yours.”
Shock jolts through me. I scramble backward and hit the wall. “Saber, I can’t accept this. These daggers are priceless. Invaluable.”
“As are you,” he says quietly. “I love you. You're everything to me. The swords are a piece of our shared history, your people and mine. They’re a symbol that we are stronger together than we are apart.”
I love you. You’re everything to me.
He's not lying.
There’s a knock on the door. Nero enters, followed by Zeke. “Saber, who keeps reminding me that he’s not my superior officer anymore, pulled rank to talk to you,” Nero quips. His eyes find mine. “Are you okay?”
Zeke sits down on the other side of the bed. “Talk to us,” he urges. “Tell us why you’ve locked yourself in this room for hours.”
I glare at him. “Seriously? You can’t figure it out? You're usually more insightful.”
“I want to hear it in your words.”
I take a deep breath. “I'm always going to be in danger. And by extension, so will you if you stay with me. Harek Levitan will always want to cage me. Marya Revit will always be searching for me. The only way out was through this transfusion. It failed.”
“So you're afraid.” Saber laces his fingers in mine. “I don't blame you. I'm afraid too.”
I glance at him. “I didn't think you were afraid of anything.”
He laughs shortly. “I'm afraid all the time. I made a mistake in Rothis, and five members of my team died. I sent Nero and Zeke to look for Levitan's lab, and I spent the entire time they were gone desperately hoping that I hadn’t made another mistake. I can't fall into slumber, because I keep imagining Marya finding you when you are alone.”
Oh. I didn’t know that. I squeeze his hand. “You shouldn’t be too afraid for me,” I murmur. “I can fight back.”
“With all due respect, you're not ready.” His expression turns severe. “And if you keep missing practice, you’re not going to get ready either.”