What?
If I hadn’t been lying down, I might have fallen over.
Martinelli was right?
Was the polymer Owen created to suspend the liquid all they needed? Had that been the only thing Haddad was missing?
Or—oh my god—was my genetic makeup the lottery winner?
“Do you have any insight into why this might be happening?” Dr. Ricci asked. “We took samples of the chemical from the hem guards of your suit, hoping it would help us with your treatment plan, but it’s unlike anything in our database. If you know something that might help us understand…”
“I don’t,” I lied smoothly. “I wish I did.”
“Allora.” He studied me for a moment, then stared at his tablet again, tapping it absently. “Whatever the mechanism, it may have saved your life. And it should be studied because it might advance burn treatment by decades, if we can understand it.”
When Rav and I didn’t give him any answers, he eventually left.
And all I could do was stare at the ceiling, my mind racing through the research I’d done over the past three years. A weapon so similar to the one that had almost ruined my life had healed me, at least partially. The bitter irony of it sat heavily in my chest.
“Hey.” Rav squeezed my hand gently. “You okay?”
“Martinelli was right,” I said quietly. “About the regeneration, about finding someone with the right genetics. It actually worked.”
“He was still willing to kill thousands to test his theory.”
“I know. I just…” I turned my head to look at him properly. Speaking hurt, but I couldn’t shut him out. “I need to research this, Rav. If my genetics are the key, we need to understand it without letting the information fall into the wrong hands again.”
“We will. After you heal. After you’re stronger.”
As my brain grew clearer, I looked around the room. Flowers covered every surface—so many that it looked like a florist shop had exploded. “Who are all those from?”
Rav stood, moving from arrangement to arrangement. “These roses are from Scarlett and Malcolm. Wildflowers from Drew and Jayce. The ridiculous orchids that probably cost a fortune? Evelyn. Emmett and Zac sent the daisies. This potted plant is from Mario with a note that says… hold on, my Italian’s terrible… something about warrior goddesses, I think.”
“And those?” I pointed to a crystal vase full of lilies and carnations.
“Percival. His note says Pendragon owes you hazard pay.”
“For this week?”
“I may have suggested they owed you for the past three years.”
I started to laugh, but it grated down my throat and pulled at the bandages on my neck. “Ow. No laughing yet.”
“Sorry.” But he was smiling, a genuine smile that lit up his gorgeous face.
“There were geraniums in Percival’s arrangement, too,” he added quietly. “I threw them out.”
Geraniums. The scent always reminded me of Lewisite. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t get you any.” He came back to my bedside, kissed the top of my head, then wrapped his hands around one of mine and sat. “I asked Scarlett what to get you, but?—”
“You haven’t left here, have you?”
He kissed my hand and let out a long breath. He was so tired.
“You need to go back to the villa,” I said. “Shower, sleep in an actual bed, eat something that didn’t come from a vending machine.”
“I’m not leaving.”
