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Chapter 20
Addie
They led me through a maze-like sub basement and into what looked like a sterile hospital room. The heady scent of bleach and other disinfectants permeated the air, so potent that it was almost suffocating. The white walls, white bedspread, and white tiling made the room unwelcoming instead of cozy. Inhabitable, as if no one had ever stepped foot in it before.
A severe looking woman handed me a thin, scratchy hospital gown before leaving with the rest of the men. Leaving me alone.
The full truth of my reality hit me then.
Alone. I was alone and dying, away from my men. Soon, I wouldn’t be able to even recognize them as the parasite infected my mind. I wouldn’t be able to recognize myself.
My breathing was erratic as I mechanically slipped out of my clothes and into the uncomfortable gown. It fell just below my knees, opening in the back to reveal more of me than I liked.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and frowned at how...sickly I looked. My face was abnormally pale, devoid of the usual red splotches on my cheeks. Dark shadows accentuated how tired I actually was. My hands went to my face, touching the skin. How long until my eyes turned red? Until my hair fell out in clumps?
How long until the Adelaide I knew and loved was gone?
Because the second my mind was gone, the second I attempted to harm another human being, I wouldn’t be Addie anymore. I may have still had a body, had a heartbeat, had a brain, but the girl I knew would be long dead.
I was terrified.
I allowed myself to realize that, embrace it. I was terrified I would never see the men I loved again. Would I see Calax in the afterlife? I supposed that was one bright spot in this monotonous darkness.
A knock on the door had me jumping ten feet in the air, heart racing.
Quickly, I moved until the backs of my thighs met the hospital examination table. The last thing I wanted to do was show a person who wasn’t one of my guys my ass.
Instead of the nurse from earlier, I was greeted by an older man in a white coat. His hair was gray and receding, and beneath the coat, he wore an impeccably ironed business suit. His no-nonsense demeanor and penetrating eyes allowed me to see that he meant business.
“Adelaide,” he said stiffly, gliding into the room. You could tell a lot about a person by the way they walked. Some people slouched, almost as if they wanted to disappear into the floor. Others kept their chin up and eyes straight ahead. Some had a bounce to their step; some moved as if weights trailed behind them.
This man walked with purposeful strides, an imperious set to his chin. His keen eyes seemed to be aware of everything; every breath and twitch, every heartbeat and thought. Those were eyes that saw it all.
I squirmed, moving to sit down and kick my feet. I knew he could see through my feigned nonchalance, but if I was going to die, I didn’t want to be cowering. Scared. Pissing my pants.
Because, let’s face it, I was tempted to take a massive dump right then and there. Some people shook when they were scared, others shitted themselves. Guess which category I fell into?
“Call me Addie,” I told the man.
His lip curled as he glanced down at his clipboard.
“Okay, Adelaide, do you know why you’re here?”
“Because I was kidnapped?” I said dryly, my feet swinging back and forth over the edge of the bed. “Now, are you going to tell me your name? It’s only fair because I told you mine. That’s usually how communication works, you know. Tit for tat. Or is the saying tat for tit? Honestly, I don’t know why we have to talk about tits in the first place. I have seven boyfriends, and only they are allowed to talk about my tits. I hate that word. Tit. It makes me sound like a teenage boy going to second base for the first time. Other words I hate: boob, moist, and penis. Like, why a penis? Why not death bringer? Turkey sausage? Skin pickle?” As I mused, the man’s - I refused to call him Doc - face went carefully blank. He slowly dropped his clipboard onto the sink counter.
“Are you done now?”
“Naming penises? Declan’s - that’s one of my boyfriends, FYI - is definitely a pleasing sword. I need to do more research before I could name the others.”
Yes, I was babbling. My tendency to speak my mind became more prominent when I was nervous. Or scared. Or...nervared.
Another Addie original word. I’d fight anyone who says differently.
“When did the Arctic enter your bloodstream?” the man with no name asked, picking up his clipboard and holding a pen over it. My brows furrowed.
“Arctic?”
“The worm.” He spoke as if he was speaking to an imbecile. “Named after its origins in the ice caps. How long ago did it enter you?”
