The beaster hauled her higher onto his lap, calming her with words—as ifsheneeded calming—and she heard Vargr pull the other chair in to sit beside them. She was calm, just pissed off. Now she had the whole damn room glaring at her.
“What?” She held up her arms, meaning to splay them outward in protest but they failed her and landed on her own lap. “Okay, fill me in some more. Why am I a ragdoll? Why are you all staring?”
“I think we are freaking Cyn out.” Willow grinned. “Let’s give her some room.”
Maura began looking for a seat. Vincent shrugged and perched against the wall opposite the door, a couple of yards toward the front. Past him, further along this wide tubular compartment, a partial divider was visible then a cockpit slash cabin slash whatever the driver’s area was called, where she glimpsed two red-upholstered seats and a pair of steering wheels.
“This is Big Daddy?” She placed her hand over Rutger’s where it lay on her thigh and she realized she was wearing a backless white gown. “Who took all my clothes?”
“Yes, this is Big Daddy.” Rutger steadied her. “He’s not spoken since we arrived, but the vehicle has power.”
“He,” she murmured. Why were all the AIs called he? Okay, with a name like Big Daddy she could see the point. But how big was Big Daddy?
She scanned from the cockpit to Vincent and Willow, then over the table, where a seated Maura met her eyes. Behind her and to her left were a microscope and white cabinets, chairs, lots of dingle-whatsit science stuff she didn’t recognize, further left was another table, and another divider with the door closed.
“So, did you make me better than before? I feel like I’ve turned into a butterfly you stuck in a jar. Can I claim on insurance for floppy limbs?”
Everyone kept staring, their expressions a mixture of pained, sad, or something in between. Rutger squeezed her where he’d wrapped his arms around her to stop her from toppling. After clearing her throat, Willow stepped forward, placing her hand on the corner of the table.
“We’re surprised you’re alive. We did what we aimed to. Maura took samples from several different beasters and she’s cultivated nanites from us. Yours and Vincent’s have similarities, and they grow faster.”
“You grow them in what? Blood?”
“No, in a material I found here, made for the purpose,” Maura answered. “I microtomed and stained the Ghoul Lord sample Vincent gave me and found something that would bond to it that Willow could sense. It was however a potentially deadly chemical. Considering your healing powers?—”
“And that you were dying anyway,” Willow interjected.
Her lips pinched in, then Maura continued. “We injected it via IV infusion. We took a chance, a leap of faith as Rutger called it.”
She nodded and felt him threading his big fingers through hers. “Okay. It was a good call.” She pressed her hand onto his fingers, took a breath.
“And so, then I had to see if I could help you kill off what was inside you.” Grimacing, Willow perched herself on the table’s corner. “I wasn’t sure I could because, when I looked inside you, your brain was lit up like a Christmas tree.”
Oh shit.She blinked at Willow. “But I’m here.”
“Yeahhh, no fucking clue why. Really. Pardon the swearing. I had to hope you could heal what those things were doing, had done to you, plus any damage that might occur when I went after them. Maura decided to inject some of your own nanites into your cerebrospinal fluid. Vincent showed her how. And again, destroying your brain was a side effect we had to consider. I crushed the tentacles as much as I could, I think the deadly stuff that stuck to them did something too. And you and those nanites did the rest.”
“So…” She gulped, thought. “I really did have bits of Ghoul Lord inside me?”
Willow laughed. “That, or I was hallucinating. Whatever it was, our treatment worked. I can’t see anything wrong in there anymore. I figure you must have titanium in your veins, something far beyond what any ordinary human ever had, Cyn. You have a clean brain.”
“Oh hell,” Vargr muttered. “I fuckin’ hope not.” He smiled at her.
She favored him with a raised eyebrow then reached across with her unoccupied hand. Now both her beasters were holding her hands. It felt like she was in kindergarten again with her two best buddies by her side. Which was a little too platonic for her ovaries.
Kindergarten? She searched her memories but nothing else surfaced. Still a nobody, way back in her past.
“I just hope I get to walk again.” She stared at where her hands lay, clasped in Rutger’s and Vargr’s. “Because I need to.” The fire in her heart surged, rebuilt, peaked, seemed to course along the arteries and veins of her body. “I need to stand up and go kill those fuckers.” Killing them would be so satisfying. Did her eyes blaze, because it felt so. She raised her head then pushed herself off Rutger’s lap, slowly. He slipped his hands to her waist. This time her legs held her weight, even if her muscles were quivering. “Are you with me?”
“Mmmm. We all are.” The frown on Willow’s forehead said she was dubious. “First, though, we need to get you a walking frame.”
Her eyeroll did not seem to impress anyone. Maybe she should take this slower? The itch to do something was maddening.
“Have you been through that door yet?” She indicated the closed one.
“Yes.” Rutger stood, his hands readjusting. “Would you like a tour?”
Then it struck her what was missing from this. They’d come here to discover who they were, what those nanites had done to them, and whatMaelstromwas. No one looked even vaguely ready to blurt out that amazing information. Had they failed? Or had they been too busy keeping her alive?
