Everafter Series 2 - Nevermore (25 page)

“It’s Darren,” I said without preamble, walking as quickly as I could toward my lab. “It’s fucking Darren
.
”

“Are you sure?” Even Sebastian sounded surprised. The low buzz of voices in the background reminded me that he couldn’t speak freely right now, surrounded as he was by his own kin and the Consortium guards.

“Oh, I’m sure.” When I twisted my key in the lock, metal protested, and I eased my grip before I broke something. “Bulky, black suit, black T-shirt. Sound familiar to you?”

“Mm.”

“He’s been feeding information to Olivia.”

“Son of a bitch!” His interjection was quiet but vehement. For one strange, disconnected moment, I wondered whether he meant the epithet in canine or human terms.

“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “But my gut says to keep a lid on this for a while yet.”

“Agreed. Though it may be wise to tell Karma.”

My racing thoughts ground to a halt on the mental image of Helen and Malcolm lying dead in their offices, killed by the traitor they never suspected. How had Darren managed to fool them for years?

“Get Karma to stick to Malcolm. And Helen, if she can. I don’t think Darren would make a move against either of them until it’s time for whatever invasion Brenner’s planning, but…”

“But the clock is ticking,” Sebastian finished.

I almost dropped the cooler as an even more horrifying thought crossed my mind. Alexa wasn’t just in danger from the virus. She trusted Darren implicitly. A soft groan left my throat before I could contain it.

“Are you all right?” Sebastian sounded even more alarmed than he had at my news of the traitor. “Val? What—”

“Alexa,” I said, through teeth that wouldn’t unclench. “What if he—”

Sebastian cut me off. “I’ll make sure she knows. I promise you.” He lowered his voice even further. “Focus, Val. You have to focus. There’s only one way to put an end to all of this.”

Leaning against the door, my hand still on the knob, I took one deep breath and then another. Sebastian was right. I couldn’t afford to panic. “Yeah,” I said as soon as I had myself back under some semblance of control. “I know. With any luck, I’ll be back in a matter of hours.”

As the call disconnected, I shut the door behind me and set the cooler onto the closest lab bench. My hands were trembling, and I braced them against the edge of the counter, forcing my thoughts away from the panic.
Focus.
I needed to test the blood of several of Brenner’s children against the virus in Alexa’s blood, and in order to see exactly what was going on when they interacted, I was going to have to image them using the scanning electron microscope.

After powering up the machine and the monitors to which it was attached, I prepared my slides. I started with the blood from three different Weres, each exposed to the virus via Alexa’s blood. Giving them time to interact, I prepped the microscope, checking and rechecking each step. It was one of the most sophisticated pieces of technology in the lab, and I’d never used it without Sean’s supervision.

Once I had the parameters set, I returned to my samples. I needed to spread each of them onto an electron microscopy grid, and then rapidly freeze them by immersing them in liquid ethane. The technique, called cryo-electron microscopy, was the best way to image biological processes. While the samples would freeze, no crystals would form, and I would be able to observe a snapshot of the interacting blood specimens that was virtually indistinguishable from their natural, liquid states.

The first grid contained Sebastian’s blood mingled with Alexa’s, and I bent close to the monitor, both eager and fearful of what the scope would reveal. I had observed specimens this way before, but even so, I was unprepared for the complex and delicate beauty of the image that appeared onscreen. The virus seemed mathematically impossible, its spirals and sharp edges coalescing in a deadly geometry. But as I scanned across the field of view, hope began to fill the cold vacuum of fear in my chest. Sebastian’s blood had already produced immunoglobulins, and they had begun their work in earnest before I had frozen the sample. They were IgM antibodies, large and five-pronged, and several had bonded to the menacing virus in order to render it impotent.

“Don’t get too excited,” I said, swapping out Sebastian’s sample for another. It would be no good to leap to any conclusions before I had multiple data points. But after examining two more grids that looked virtually identical, I allowed myself to smile. The pattern was clear: Brenner’s children all had innate immunity to the virus. Given that IgM antibodies were the first to be expressed in a fetus, it made sense that they were the ones who swarmed to the attack. In fact, those very antibodies were probably the mechanism whereby pregnant shifter women didn’t go insane during the nine months when they couldn’t transform into their animal halves.

The scientist in me was clamoring to run an extensive battery of tests to try to prove my hypothesis. But the rest of me was driven by the ticking clock. To develop an effective treatment, I was going to need a lot of the pureblood antibodies—many more than I could get from only one sample. The question was whether a combination of samples would remain effective against the virus, or whether the different immunoglobulins would attack each other instead.

I glanced over at the clock on the wall. Almost three thirty in the morning. Blinking back my fatigue, I worked up one more grid, this one a combination of four different samples. After adding Alexa’s blood, I waited for as long as it took me to empty the coffeepot into my mug and then froze the specimen.

The results were disastrous. Cursing, I scanned the field of view for so much as a speck of good news, but chaos reigned throughout the mixture. IgM antibodies predominated, but most of them were locked in a struggle against each other instead of the virus. Clearly, the genetic marker of each separate shifter’s antibodies made them appear as antigens to the others.

Sighing, I shut down the microscope and rubbed my eyes. There was only one solution. The cure was going to have to come from one and only one shifter. In order to produce enough antibodies for harvesting, I was going to have to expose that shifter to a significant amount of virus.

I perched on the nearest stool and stared into my cooling coffee in an effort to quiet my mind so that I could think this through. Over time, given the right equipment and some expert direction, I could synthesize both a cure and a vaccine from a single pureblood’s sample. But Alexa and every other infected shifter didn’t have time. They couldn’t wait for scientific finesse. They needed a treatment now
.

Frustrated, I got up to rinse out the pot only to find myself distracted by the waterfall I’d created in the sink: a clear stream falling from the faucet into the drain. I thought of the vast network of pipes that crisscrossed the hidden interior of the hospital—a circulatory system made of steel and PVC. Cocking my head, I stared transfixed at the steady stream of water and felt logic reassert itself despite my exhaustion. There was a quick and relatively easy way to create the necessary antibodies in vivo. Transfusion.
If I transfused infected blood into one of Brenner’s offspring, their immune system would react to the invasion of the virus by mounting a swift and sweeping immunoglobulin response. I could then harvest their antibodies in sufficient quantities to produce a cure.

It was a plan. Theoretically, it would be successful. But it would also pose a significant risk for the Were who offered their body as an antibody breeding ground. They would be exposed to massive quantities of the virus, perhaps enough to overwhelm even their natural immunity. That much of the virus could provoke their animal half into a deadly reaction.

Working quickly, I cleaned the lab benches that I’d used and returned my samples to the cooler. I had to get back to the Consortium.

I had to find a pureblood who would take that risk.

Chapter Twenty-one

Alexa called as I barged into the sweltering night, scanning the street beyond for waiting taxis. Hope and fear warred in my chest as I put the phone to my ear. If she was calling, she was still okay. But what if something else
had happened?

“Hi, love,” I said, trying to keep my voice soothing. “How are you doing?”

“I’m all right. But Constantine got a nosebleed today.” When her voice wavered a little on the syllables, my stomach clenched. I had met her sire only in passing, but I knew Alexa cared about him deeply. His illness would only contribute to her anxiety.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”

“Where are you?”

“Just leaving the hospital.” At the intersection half a block away, I saw a cab with its lights on and raised my hand.

“I know you’re so busy right now,” Alexa said, “and I feel selfish for asking this, but do you think I could see you soon? Just for a few minutes? I miss you.”

“Of course. I feel terrible that I’ve had to be apart from you, especially right now.” I scrubbed at my heavy eyes. “How about meeting me in the room where they’re keeping Sebastian? I have a proposal for him and his siblings. And it’s something you should hear.”

“Good news?”

“I think so.” I climbed into the cab and leaned my head against the window. “I hope so.”

“We could all use some of that.” She paused and I took comfort from the steady rhythm of her breathing. “Is it really true, about Darren?”

Alarm shot up my spine at the simple mention of his name, the rush of adrenaline forcing my free hand into a fist. “It looks that way. There’s no hard evidence yet, but in this case—”

“Better to presume guilt before proving innocence,” Alexa said.

“Exactly.”

“This whole thing feels like some kind of elaborate nightmare. The kind I used to get after we’d been out all night drinking pitchers of cheap sangria.”

I laughed. It felt so incongruous to laugh in the middle of all of this fear and uncertainty, but that was part of Alexa’s magic. My laughter prompted hers, and in that moment, I fell even more in love with her.

“You’re amazing,” I said when I could speak again.

“No, you.”

I smiled. “Go downstairs, babe. I’m almost there. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. I love you, Val.”

Within minutes, I was stepping out of the elevator on the second floor. Once again, Leon Summers stood in my path. This time, I had a message for him. “We have a serious problem,” I said before he could mouth off at me again. I dropped my voice. “And his name is Darren.”

I watched Summers’s face as he processed my words. I tensed to subdue him if he showed even the slightest indication of being in league with the traitor. It would be utter folly for a vampire to throw in with Balthasar Brenner, but I had to be sure. Shock rippled across his face only to be replaced by an icy determination.

“You’re certain?”

“No. But my intelligence
is very good. I informed Karma Rao several hours ago, and since then, she’s been trying to keep an eye on both Malcolm and Helen. But that can’t be easy.”

“Why don’t I go and give her a hand,” Summers suggested.

“Don’t alert him. If he doesn’t think he’s under suspicion, we can use him.”

Summers sneered as he brushed past me more quickly than any human could have moved. “I’m not an idiot, Valentine.” And then he was gone.

As soon as I stepped into the room, Alexa was at my side. Blocking out the nearly twenty pairs of watching eyes—many judgmental—I threaded my arms around her waist. “Hi, baby.”

Her answering kiss was brief but firm, and I drew strength from it. “I love you,” I whispered against her temple as she stepped back to let me speak with Brenner’s whelps.

Squaring my shoulders, I turned to face the expectant crowd. “Thank you all for letting me test your blood. Your generosity will lead to a cure.”

“Are we immune?” someone in the back asked.

“You are. Every pureblood Were is, in point of fact. Each of you has antibodies against this virus by virtue of being conceived and not turned. I’m happy to explain the details to anyone who is curious, but first I have another request to make.”

I took a deep breath. “Each one of you has developed a slightly different version of the antibody against the virus. This means that we can’t just combine the samples you’ve provided in order to create a cure. Your antibodies are different enough that in such a case, they destroy each other instead of the antigen. With time and help, I’m fairly confident I could synthesize a treatment for the virus out of one sample. But we’re running out of time before your father makes his move—and more importantly, before the next full moon.”

“So what do you want from us now?” one of the women asked, sounding put out. My temper surged, but Alexa squeezed my hand, grounding me.

“There’s only one way to do this quickly. I need one of you to volunteer to undergo a transfusion that contains a large amount of the virus. That Were’s immune system will mount a corresponding immune response, allowing us to harvest enough of the antibodies to treat the infected population here in the city.

“But this is a risky procedure. A large dose of the virus may overwhelm your body’s natural immunity. It’s possible the volunteer’s animal half will rebel, which could lead to the seizures many of you have witnessed in the infected. Often, those seizures are deadly.”

The room was still. No shifter but Sebastian would meet my eyes. Finally, one of the men in suits spoke up. “So you’re asking us to risk death for a procedure that
might
produce a cure. For something that doesn’t even affect us.”

“I’m asking one of you to take a risk in order to save lives.” This time, I reached for Alexa’s hand. “Her life. And the lives of hundreds of others who either have been infected or will be infected when your father releases the airborne mutation.”

I knew that every single one of them could hear the staccato of my heart in my chest, pounding rapidly as I waited in anxious anticipation. I knew they could read the sincerity of my body language—my honest desire to halt the monstrosity that Brenner had unleashed upon their close cousins. But none of them spoke. Perhaps they were more like him than they had thought.