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"Two samples."

"Before and after?"

Her mouth moves slightly. Approval. "Exactly." Good. That matters.

The first vial was taken less than one hour before the incident. Routine military medical screening. The second was drawn sixteen minutes after Oren tried to hold onto the woman being taken. Same person. Same day. Same body. Before. After. For the first time, we have something close to a control. Professor Vayne looks annoyingly pleased about it.

"What exactly are we testing?" Cassian asks.

"Everything." Neris says.

Cassian nods. "Excellent specificity."

The room has been reorganized overnight. Of course. Two blood-analysis stations. Siren resonance instruments. Ward-output meters. Containment crystal. One chair for me. I look toward it. No. I know that chair. Blood Echo chair. Wonderful.

Professor Vayne points. "Sit."

"I hate when you do that."

"Useful." Rhyven's mouth twitches from across the room. I glare. "Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"Your face did." Caelen looks between us once, then returns to the report in his hands.

The first blood sample is normal. Or as normal as blood can be when I voluntarily let my manifestation crawl into it. I touch the first vial. Blood Echo opens.

Oren. Alive. Healthy. Fae magic moving beneath his blood like light beneath water. Different from vampire blood. Different from wolf. Every species carries magic differently. I've known that theoretically. Blood Echo makes theory intimate. Fae magic feels delicate until it doesn't. Threads. Channels. Branches. Like roots made of light. Everything connected. Everything flowing. I release.

"Baseline." Professor Vayne says.

I nod. "Strong manifestation."

"Any abnormalities?"

"No."

"Good." He writes.

Second sample. After. I look at the vial. Same color.

Same consistency. Nothing visibly changed. Except I know what happened to the arm it came from. Magic no longer moves through it.

"Five seconds." Rhyven says.

I look over. "You're not Vayne."

"No."

"Then stop stealing his lines."

"Five seconds." Professor Vayne says.

I look between them. "This is unbearable."

Cassian whispers: "I agree."

I touch the second sample. Blood Echo opens. Oren. Same body. Same blood. Same pulse. But something is wrong. Not empty. Not drained. Disturbed. The magic is still there. Mostly. But the pathways associated with his right arm feel interrupted. Not broken. Not severed. No. Bent. As though something pushed through them and left them misaligned. I follow the sensation. Carefully. One second. Two. Three. There. A dead zone. Not dead. Silent. I pull back.