Vampirism was a disease that rewrote the body from the inside out. The cure needed to be equally invasive and absolute.
I worked with frantic, rhythmic precision. Minutes bled together as I tested, adjusted, and tested again. The mixture swirled, crimson swallowed by the brilliant blue that bloomed through it.
The microscope’s eyepiece pressed cold against my face, narrowing the world to a field of my jagged dhampir cells. Their membranes bristled with corruption, edges black and barbed, each one a tiny snarl of violence.
After adding a drop of catalyst, it touched the first cell. A shiver ran through the structure. The spine drew inward. Black faded to gray, then to a raw, living red. The once jagged membrane softened, rounding into the familiar curve of human blood. The change spread—one cell, then another, followed by a cluster blooming outward in a widening wave. I didn’t breathe or blink as the final corrupted membrane healed. The cells held their shape.
The phoenix blood worked!
Gripping the edge of the workbench, I steadied myself, yet the pressure in my chest grew. A sound rose in my throat, caught between a laugh and a sob, and I let it escape before it choked me.
After years of failure, months of revisions, and more dead ends than I cared to remember, the cure finally held.I did it!
I could save Finn and Zane. I could give them back their sunlight, their breath, their lives. The vial blurred as I wiped the dampness from my eyes with the back of my hand. My triumph thinned as reality settled over me: A quarter of the vial of phoenix blood had given me only two uses.
Using it on my Devotion before proving its safety would be dangerous and reckless.
The clock ticked on the wall. There was no time to test it. Their cure would come later. Their humanity could be restored once the throne was secured and the Sanguine vampires were ash. I could return what had been taken from them and still have my revenge.
It was a future that warmed me, a promise held close but not yet within reach.
Doubt crept in, occupying the cracks left by the fading rush. What if the serum failed when it mattered, in theveins of a fully turned vampire? I needed proof before I dared hope.
After labeling each vial, I set them into the reinforced holder. I then prepared another batch, filling a syringe and securing it, ready for the moment I could use it. Then I gathered more of my healing serum and stuffed the vials in my pocket.
For a moment, the cold reception of the guards and Captain Stark made me consider taking the rest of my work with me. But I lacked a safer vault than this laboratory, and I refused to flee like a thief when I had done nothing wrong.
Instead, I slid the journals and the cure into a secret compartment in the workbench. The wood clicked shut, burying my hope in the shadows. Only when everything was sealed and stored did I allow myself to breathe.
Chapter 34
Sidney
The silence on the ride to Adelaide left my thoughts unguarded, with no equations or formulas to keep them in line. My thumb hooked into my belt, tracing the empty space where my stake should have hung.
Above me, the midday sun burned a harsh reminder across the sky: Seven days of light remained. Seven more arcs before the magic failed and the disguise dissolved.
And then what will you do?
It was only then that I acknowledged a deeper truth: I hadn’t fully considered what came next. Once Sanguine was no more and the good slayers at the temple…
What? Took me back with open arms?
I scoffed to myself. I was old enough to know not to believe in fairy tales. Captain Stark’s hostility had me rethinking everything. Though it wasn’t completely her fault. At some point, I’d stopped asking Lord Aetherius for his grace. And I missed that part of my life less than I expected.
By the time Adelaide’s garden came into view, I was happy to abandon my introspection. I had no answers,only a plan that hinged on me placing a crown upon my brow.
The witch stood waiting right outside her haven under the willow tree. Her green eyes shimmered as she took me in. “Tick tock. One week left. Your vampiress is seeping into the ground while the worms make a meal of her, and the anchor is thinning to a single strand. Soon, there won’t be enough of her left to hold the glamor.”
I followed her through the willow’s hanging leaves. She already had her ritual implements laid out on the wooden table, including a wicked sharp needle. I eyed it, dry swallowing. “I know.”
“Do you?” Adelaide leaned in. “To keep up your disguise for the final stretch, the magic must sink deeper. The pain will be nearly unbearable. You must step closer to the grave than you ever have.”
“Just get it over with,” I said before I could lose my nerve.
She didn't use the green paste this time. Instead, she picked up the needle carved from bone, its tip glistening with something dark. The mixture carried a sharp scent of sulfur layered over wilted lilies.
She reached out, seizing my arm in an iron grip. “Don’t move.”
