Page 7

I am incomplete, The Incomplete who survived when all others allowed their madness to overcome them rather than learn to bargain and live with it. Soon I would be whole again. My heartbeat almost jumped to a real sixty seconds per minute at the thought of having her in my domain.

“And what have you done in these six months?”

There has been no sign of her among any of the registered tributes, but patience was a game well known to me. It would only be so long until both of us would be drawn together like positive and negative charges.

I placed a hand to my pulse once more. “Not much longer now.”

“And what will happen when you find her?”

Then I would finally be complete; complete enough to have all of the things previously denied to me.

I smiled, allowing myself to indulge in the sensation of dreams and fantasy for a few minutes longer. It was said the touch of a fated mate was more electric than any youthful liaison with other males and their blood sweeter than any blood slave’s.

“I think I’ve heard all I’ve needed to hear.”

“What sort of scent will she carry?” I traced the bump of a forearm vein, discarding the thoughts before they’d wander.

There was work to be done. She was not here and that was fact.

A knock sounded at the door. It was hesitant and hit with the back of a hand. Yareth. I hid my notebook in a locked drawer and swapped it with an experiment logbook: On the Observational Differences of Blood Cells Between Tribute Women and Female Humans Found Unsuitable to be Potential Fated Mates.

“Enter.” My voice was laced with boredom, but I did extend the courtesy of turning my chair towards the door.

Yareth walked in, his gait evenly spaced and at a consistent steady speed. His dark brown curls were combed to the side. Everything about his appearance was as neat as always. If the sound of his rapid heartbeat wasn’t threatening to crush my eardrums, I would have assumed he were here to report on someone else’s mishap. Perhaps some vials in the laboratory had gone missing, or some competitor had hacked into our digital databases.

He paused mid-step to look over the logbook and comment, “Since when did Strigaix obstetrics interest you? Are you thinking of switching disciplines?”

I cursed myself at picking up the wrong notebook while pointing a cruel smile at Yareth. His words were a deflection, but if I didn’t give an appropriate answer, his curiosity would gnaw at him until he had to squeak about something, and that would be a problem. “I read a recent study which piqued my interest,” I said.

“Oh?”

I ran my tongue over my still flat teeth. “Are you aware of how one of our kind are formed in the womb?”

“As you’re aware, my specialty is in geology. You are the hematologist.” He adjusted the spectacles he didn’t need on his nose. “But I do have time, please do enlighten me.”

He was stalling, but for what? Rather than ask, I said, “As is common knowledge, our sperm contains only the Y-chromosome—”

“Was the article about sperm chromosomes?” Yareth’s face twisted in displeasure and disgust. “If so, forget I said anything.”

“No. It was about what happens afterward.”

He arched a brown brow and showed half his teeth, the sigh through them implying I should continue. His heartbeat slowed down, but only slightly.

“The article I read was about the reason for our red eyes.”

“The reason.” Yareth drew out his words. “The reason is well known. All Strigaix inherit the exact shade of red of their eyes from their father and tracing that color allows us to understand what bloodline we belong to.”

“Yes,” I agreed, looking into his eyes: candied and flecked with white. They were a stark contrast to my own pale frost eyes. The pigmentation for both was red, of course, the shades flat and unmistakable, but distinct. “Did you know that in the first few weeks when only the X-chromosome from the female egg is active, we are biologically human.”

His lips curled, not quite in irritation but a touch intrigued; his heartbeat now fully calmed down in the face of scientific delectation. “If that is true, then at what point do we become Strigaix?”

“We do not know.” I skimmed my notes, and then Yareth, who was holding his arms behind his back. “At least not yet,” I said. “This was a preliminary report from an ongoing research project.”

“Then what do we know?”

“As we grow and form, the process of colonizing our human parts is a continuous and ongoing process.”

“Explain yourself.”