He tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak. His throat was on fire.
"Don't try to talk." Mattie rested her hand on his chest. "You lost a lot of blood before the wounds started to close."
He was on the floor, the immortals were gone, and the bar was empty save for the three of them.
"How long?" The words came out as a rasp.
"Nearly an hour," Mattie whispered. "I was so worried."
"I'm sorry." He tried to lift his hand to cup her cheek, but it refused to obey his command.
"It's not your fault." She brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. "I'm just glad you woke up."
"Where are the bastards?" he asked.
Mattie glanced at Anil. "They left right after they told us not to say anything about the incident. They don't want Lord Navuh to find out."
Right. The cover-up. He'd heard them planning it, in those last fuzzy moments before he'd lost consciousness.
"The cameras," he murmured. "Everything was recorded."
"They probably know who to ask to erase it," Anil said. "The other three were really worried about Lord Navuh executing them for harming his scientist."
"I just hope they don't come back." Dimitri tried to lift his hand again, and this time it responded. "I don't have any more syringes." He cupped Mattie's cheek. "I need to get back to the lab and prepare some more, but with higher potency toxins. This one was underpowered."
"What you need is to get in bed and sleep this off," Mattie said.
"My bed is in the lab." He tried to push up and immediately regretted it as his head spun, or rather, the world around him did. "My quarters are in the lab building."
"We'll help you get there." Mattie slid her arm around his middle. "Anil, can you please help me?"
Together, they got him into a sitting position. Even that small movement sent waves of nausea rolling through him. He pressed a hand to his neck, wincing at the tender flesh there, and his fingers came away sticky with blood.
"How bad is it?" he asked.
Mattie and Anil exchanged a look that told him more than words could.
"The other immortals pulled Tarik off you, and his fangs tore your throat." Anil observed the wound with clinical detachment. "The good news is that the venom has healing properties, so the wound stopped bleeding. The bad news is that it looks bad, and you will have to cover your neck with a scarf until it heals completely."
"Great. Where am I even going to find a scarf on a tropical island? God, I miss Siberia."
Mattie chuckled. "If you are joking, you must be feeling better."
"Who said I was joking?" He let Mattie and Anil haul him up, but his legs seemed to have forgotten how to work properly and refused to bear his weight. In the end, Mattie took one side and Anil took the other, and they half-carried, half-dragged him toward the side exit.
The night air was warm and humid, smelling of tropical flowers and salt and making his head swim even worse.
"Left," he managed. "The lab building is to the left."
They slowly navigated the paths between buildings, pausing whenever Dimitri's legs threatened to give out. They encountered a few guards on the way, but they assumed Dimitri was drunk, and the bar personnel were helping him get to his room.
No one stopped them or even asked what they were doing out so late.
As the lab building loomed ahead of them, dark except for a few emergency lights, Dimitri fumbled for his keycard and nearly dropped it before finally managing to swipe them in.
The door clicked open.
"Second floor," he said.
