“You’re saying my mother separated and hid half my Seraphim powers within me and placed the guardian bond on Lucille and me?” Aspen demanded.
“Again, Lucille has more of the details,” Sam replied.
“His Glory,” I murmured with a huff. “That’s why they keep targeting you.”
“What are you talking about?” Aspen asked, shifting his head to the side.
And there it was.
The scrolling Severance Rune marked the side of his neck.
Aspen touched the spot I stared at, asking a question with his eyes.
“It’s there.”
“And you think this is why they’re targeting me?”
“Yes. I asked Lucifer how we could stop the infection, and for a second… he seemed almost lucid. Then he said, ‘His Glory,’ like the words were dragged out of him. A second later, he tried to brush it off. I think he was talking about you.”
Sam straightened, changing out the blood samples. “I agree. I’ve concluded the rune acts as an inhibitor. It prevents purification from completing. My first thought was amplification. But introducing additional blood samples would’ve destabilized the host entirely.”
He lowered his eye to the microscope again and hummed, sounding pleased. He inserted a needle into a vial, filling it with blood, then walked over to Aspen.
“I needed a compatible catalyst. A power the blood would recognize. Accept.”
“Lucille’s,” Aspen said.
Sam nodded and injected Aspen with the blood.
“You two caught me just as I was about to combine her sample with Aspen’s and introduce it to freshly infected blood.”
“So now I’m your test subject?”
“Yes.”
We waited in silence for five agonizing minutes, letting Lucille and Aspen’s combined blood run through his system. Then Sam took a new sample.
“Let’s see if it worked.”
I sank onto the healer’s bed, rubbing my neck and holding my breath. Aspen ran a hand down Hadrian’s flame-flickering fur, looking lost in thought.
Sam laughed.
It was the first time I’d ever heard the sound come from his mouth.
“It worked.” He laughed again. “It worked!”
“You cured him?” I stood.
“In a sense. The corruption stopped completely. The infection can’t anchor or spread. But this isn’t a cure. The damaged cells remain. Not that he had many.”
Overpowering relief sank me back onto the bed. I rubbed my face.
“We’ve got immunity, gentlemen.” Sam smiled, then stuck a needle in my arm, giving me back the ability to use my shadows without fear of ending up an infected pile of mush.
“Thank the fucking Weaver,” Aspen muttered.
I snorted. My sentiments exactly.
