Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“The blood resorts,” Gage says. He’s standing where he has a view of the hallway and the rest of the open areas of the apartment, his body tense. “A lot of people have hatched a conspiracy theory that it’s the government doing experiments on people to create an even deadlier version of the virus. There’s also a second, competing theory that they’re stealing healthy blood from the unsuspecting volunteers to replace the plague-ridden blood of billionaires and the Illuminati. Take your pick. Unrest has been spreading, but this is the first time since the outbreak started that we’ve had to muster for the Capitol.”
“By ‘muster’ do you mean ‘gas civilians’?” I ask curtly as Wyatt sticks a plaster over my cut.
Gage shakes his head. “I didn’t know about that. If I had any idea there was the slightest bit of risk, I never would’ve let you walk away. That protest—” He shakes his head. “I don’t think it was a coincidence.”
“Huh?” Wyatt finishes with my forehead.
“Nothing.” Gage’s expression goes from thoughtful to almost blank. “Nothing to worry about.”
I try to frown at him, but my face hurts too much to make a decent effort. That’s when I notice his eyes are red, too. “Did the gas get you?”
He shrugs and glances away. “When I heard the shots, I went after you.”
Oh, shit. He’d been looking for me. He didn’t find me, though.
Valen did. And just in time.
I don’t want to think about the soldier who hurt me, the things he said, the things he was prepared to do. I almost died today. Was it on Juno’s orders? Is she the one saying it’s okay to kill civilians? There’s no way she’d allow that. Then again, Gage seemed to think the protest was something more, something sinister almost. I don’t know who the bad guys are anymore, not when it comes to humans.
But that soldier… Somehow—I don’t know how—but somehow, I know he’s dead. I didn’t see it, but it’s like some visceral part of me felt it. There and gone in an instant.
Valen killed that soldier before he could kill me.
It’s a good thing I’m already numb inside, because if I weren’t, I truly wouldn’t know how to feel about any of it.
18
I stare at the ashy remnants of the blood I took into the sun. The slide cracked as soon as the light hit it, the sample on it going black and charred. When it happened, I realized two things. One, vampires cannot survive sunlight. And two, Valen is no ordinary vampire.
A week has passed since the protest, a week of healing and researching. I still haven’t had any word from Juno, but I see her on the screen from time to time. The blood resorts are continuing to open across the country, thousands of people signing up for a respite from the ravages of the plague. But what they’re actually walking into? I don’t know.
I have a suspicion, a fear that I hope couldn’t possibly be true. But knowing what I know now … I can’t deny the very real possibility that Juno is willingly offering up citizens to the vampires. Some manner of paying them back for her election. But that can’t be it. I know Juno. There must be some angle I’m not seeing. Or maybe I’m altogether wrong. Maybe it really is the Illuminati’s doing. That would be better, possibly even less far-fetched.
I make some notes about the charred blood then open the imaging from Gretchen’s investigation of the antibodies we found in one of the last samples. She’s done a strong workup, pages of analysis on the proteins and a hypothesis that the vast majority of them aren’t clinically significant. Possibly from common colds. But there was also an overabundance of a certain antibody that she couldn’t identify.
“What are you?” I flip through some of her work, trying to find what we’re missing. The familiar hum of a helicopter grows as it flies low overhead. My chest aches, fear like icy fingers along my spine at the thought of Juno flying away to meet with Gregor. Is that why Valen hasn’t come tonight? Is he with her?
I’m sipping a flat soda from a case Wyatt found in one of the back ballrooms and trying not to full-on panic when my doorbell rings. This time I know the sound.
“Can I come up?” Gage calls from the hallway.
I press the button to say yes, then hesitate when I remember what Valen said when he found Gage up here. They were only threats, but where Valen is concerned, I don’t have the luxury of believing any of them are empty. “I’ll come down,” I call into the microphone, then hurry to my room and throw on some real clothes.
He’s waiting by the elevator when it opens on the ground floor.