The air is cold; why does it smell of antiseptic?
Why won’t my eyes open?
A clock ticks nearby.Tick. Tick. Tick.
“Five more vials and I’ll have the full two dozen.” A sharp pinch pierces the crook of my elbow.
“Is taking that much blood safe?”
My heart stops. I know that voice.Wes.
“Perfectly safe, but I’m surprised you care,” a woman replies.
“I care about your work being successful, Mother,” he replies, in a tone so different from the warm, loving Wes of my dream. “She’s the only AUA we have.”
“Dr. Hart is always successful,” a third voice chimes in. “And in forty-one days the whole world will see that.”
Forty-one days?
Janine Hart clicks her tongue. “Enough ass-kissing, David. Please focus on the procedure.”
“Of course. Apologies.”
Procedure?
‘Never trust anybody or you’ll end up as a lab rat.’
My poor parents were right all along.
Shit. Fuck.
No. No. NO.
I stifle the urge to freak out.
What would Alexis tell me to do?
Use the skills I have.
So I try to read Wes’s thoughts and…nothing. Whatever’s going on in there is hidden behind a wall of white-noise.
Janine Hart’s brain? Also blocked to me. “Push 50cc’s,” she says.
The smell of an antiseptic wipe, then a cold flood enters my body. Dark magic and drugs hit my system like a tidal wave.
“When will she wake up?” Wes asks.
“She’ll be out for at leastanother six hours. We’ll continue to dose her through the afternoon, and Wesley, I was pleased with your work last night.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
Last night.
Last night. The Ball. Wes…drugged me?
Someone clears their throat. “Er, Janine?” It’s a deeper male voice.
“Jonquil. What is it?”
