Chapter Twenty-Two
Simon’s pallor had lessened by the next day with fluids and rest, but he hadn’t completely recovered when Simina visited him after breakfast. His meal remained half-eaten, and he still ran a slight fever. Otherwise, he was stable, which was a good sign.
“You’re lucky you came in when you did,” she said as she gave him a quick scan to check his vitals. Elevated pulse, but not alarmingly so. “With enough fluids, we should be able to flush the last of the toxins in a few days, and we’re working on an antidote.”
Simon tore his attention away from the wall screen Simina had studiously avoided looking at on her way into his room. She’d caught the familiar sight of the pre-game events of an arena match out of the corner of her eye and had no interest in seeing more.
“Antidote. To what? I wasn’t poisoned.”
“You were, in fact. The toxins that had built up in your system were a result of your body’s metabolism of the drug you were taking. That same toxin was coating your claws when you shifted, and it’s been poisoning you for days.”
Simon’s eyes widened and he turned even paler, except for two spots of bright color on his cheeks betraying his fevered state. “When I shifted? Oh, god. Was that what happened to Bryer Vargas when Herrick attacked him?”
“That’s the working theory,” she said, nodding. “Because its chemical makeup is slightly different for each individual, it’s impossible to predict how it will affect each person it comes into contact with. I believe the only reason it hasn’t killed you is because it’s your body that made it. It’s likely that each victim also reacts differently—a strange alchemy that depends on all the right circumstances for it to have a fatal effect.”
He swallowed. “You’re saying Vargas could have died. Like Talon Garrik.”
Simina blinked at the sharp spike of grief, but thankfully avoided a more overt reaction. She relied on her clinical detachment as a buffer between painful truths and her heart. Talon’s death had likely been the result of a perfect combination of factors. It could have gone very differently for so many reasons, and not just the fact that they hadn’t properly mated.
She forced the emotion beneath the surface and nodded. “Like Talon Garrik. You should be aware that the League Council is reviewing all the cases now. An investigator from the ethics committee will be coming to question you later today. Do you think you’ll be up for it? We need to know everything you can tell us about the drug and where you got it.”
“Yeah, sure. Anything I can do to help.”
“Thank you. Is there anything else you need? If not, I’ll come back to check on you this evening, and hopefully by tomorrow we’ll have an antidote to clear the rest of the toxins from your system.”
Simon’s gaze had flitted to the wall screen, his attention fully fixed on the game about to begin. She shook her head at how very typical his behavior was to all males when a sporting match was going on. But as she turned to go, he called out to her.
“Doctor Taji, I hope you’re making enough of that antidote for more than just me. Three of those champions about to fight today are definitely on the drug.”
The fact that a match was even happening finally sank in. The League Council had said they planned to suspend any matches until she and Javin had completed synthesis of the antidote and counteragent, but bureaucratic negotiations being what they were meant the order was taking longer than desired to be carried out. Too much money was at stake for too many parties for everything to just stop.
Frowning, she turned to the wall screen, ready to start taking names and call League Security on the offenders.
Her heart lurched into her throat at the sight of three familiar faces, bigger than life and smiling at the cameras.
“No. It can’t be them,” she said when her voice finally returned.
“Not them,” Simon said. “The other team. Herrick’s old training buddies are all on the shit. There’s probably a dozen of them, including the trio on deck. But Triple Talons are in for a rude awakening if they fight today.”
“I … have to go.”
Simina’s vision tunneled as she moved down the hallway on autopilot, not quite sure where she was going, but knowing she needed to get there fast. By the time she reached her lab at a dead sprint, she didn’t care about all the startled faces she’d run past to get there.
She burst through the door, breathless. “We need to get it done now,” she snapped at a surprised Javin. “Give me whatever you have. Three antidotes. Three counteragents. Whatever.”
“It isn’t ready,” Javin said, incredulous. “You’ve got the process as streamlined as it can get, Simina. You know the first sample won’t be synthesized for another twelve hours, and we would still need to test it on Simon to make sure it’s effective. It won’t be ready to roll out to the entire League for two more days. Why the sudden hurry?”
Simina was already out the door and in the stairwell, running for the roof by the time he finished speaking. She had her lab coat off and her blouse unbuttoned, but didn’t even bother with the rest before vaulting off the landing dock and over the edge into empty air. Her dragon took over, its instincts carrying them in a high arc as her wings unfurled and she let out an urgent roar. Turning in the direction of the arena, she flew harder and faster than she’d ever flown before.
* * *
It seemed she’d flown for an eternity before the huge coliseum came into view. There were regulations against interfering with a match once it was underway, but she didn’t care. The crowd was already roaring excitedly at whatever was happening in the center of the massive amphitheater. Simina pushed harder, climbing up and over the edge and circling around to get her bearings and put eyes on her mates.
No, that couldn’t be right. She’d let them go weeks earlier for this exact reason. They were definitely not her mates. And yet her dragon protested the very notion, pushing her on.
She craned her neck to see them face off in typical combat formation for a match between two trios. Triple Talons were dressed in homage to the Ebon Claw—all black with red stripes that mimicked claw marks down their left arms. Her heart lurched at the sight, so reminiscent of bleeding wounds, but she knew those symbols well enough to know better. The other team wore a garish green, suggesting more traditional reptilian shifters—gators, perhaps.
Then a horn sounded and they launched at each other. Within a split-second, the six champions were a tangle of body parts—part human, part shifter—as the match began in earnest. Seeing the first blow make contact with Veryl’s chest sent Simina’s blood boiling. It didn’t matter that the big dragon immediately launched into the air and counter-attacked, sending his opponent into the dust. When the other fighter’s claws came out, she knew she had to stop the fight before it was too late.
She tilted her wings to aim directly to the center of the arena and dove, letting out a deafening roar as she aimed for the other team. There was no way in hell they were going to harm her mates if she could help it.
The crowd roared as she descended, all bodies rising to their feet and thousands of hands pointing. It took a moment longer before the six individuals in the center of the arena looked up. The gator shifters looked more pissed than frightened, but Triple Talons backed away, all three of them wide-eyed once they recognized her.
Simina landed in between and aimed her snout at the opposing team. She let out another ground-shaking roar and nearly gave into the urge to breathe silver fire down on the despicable creatures in front of her. Diplomacy was a better option, despite how much she hated the idea. These weren’t the champions who’d killed her lover. Even though they were cheating bastards, they weren’t out for murder. She couldn’t resist releasing a brief snort of flame to drive home the fact that she’d have happily set them on fire, but then she reined in her dragon and began to shift.
Only a split-second into her change, all hell broke loose. One of the gator shifters snarled and lunged. “You want a fight, bitch? I’ll give you a fucking fight!” His claws came out.
Instead of her dragon, Simina’s human shape became the target of the attack, and acrid-scented claws raked across her bare chest before she could even raise her arms up in defense.
Searing pain shot through her. The sounds of the crowd rose to a deafening, thundering pitch. As she fell to the ground, she was dimly aware of three bodies in black launching themselves over her with fierce battle cries and tackling the other three men.
She couldn’t move. Her entire body was racked with agony. They would all die now, and it was going to be her fault.