Page 140 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

He walked in, focused on silencing his thoughts. It was all going to be fine. There was no reason to worry.

He recognised the familiar noise instantly. Rushing to the creature’s side, he scrutinised her face under the blinding artificial lights. He placed his palms above her heart, pressed down sharply, and let go. Then he pressed and let go again. And again. Until he’d done it at least a hundred and fifty times in the span of a single minute. The entire time, his gaze searched frantically around the room. He needed a cannula.

His eyes fell onto the monitors that showed the Oracle’s vital signs. Despite his best efforts to ignore it, the straight ECG line on the screen beeped relentlessly to attract his attention, threatening to deafen him with the noise.

He stared into the ghostly pale face, the blue lips, and let his hands fall to either side of his torso.

Too late. He was too late.

The Oracle was gone.

44

Mikhail looked out the tower’s window, admiring the brewing storm. Winter ruled over the mountain, despite it being late autumn. The cold winds threatened the peaks, bringing frost and snow to every corner. The weather reflected his own mood.

He could barely make out the slight silhouettes of the edges of the building through the raging blizzard. Maintenance of the roads to the building required considerable effort, but the staff were used to it. It happened every winter – never this early, though.

Funny, wasn’t it… how something needed to cloud his vision, for him to see the images in his head clearly. The puzzle pieces started clicking into place. Answers – not so much…

Mikhail twisted his lips with disappointment. He’d known it from the start, hadn’t he? That didn’t make it any less disheartening.

It had been two days since the Oracle’s death. Following her passing, the Council had openly risen against him. They’d voted against his proposal to perform an autopsy on her. “Desecration!” They’d called it. “Disrespect! The Oracle is a sacred being who has to be buried in her rightful place – the Temple of the Dead Undying – not be tossed about on top of dissecting tables and disembowelled!”

It seemed everyone believed the death to have been natural. Everyone except Mikhail.

“Three weeks ago, someone tried to kill her, now she dies of natural causes?” Mikhail had asked the others, astounded.

“Let’s not put our tinfoil hats on, please,” someone had retorted.

Sixteen hands! Sixteen goddamn hands had risen against his proposal. It almost seemed like the topic had been pre-discussed and settled already. Jaguar was the only one who had abstained from voting. Viktor and Constantine hadn’t been present. In the end, Mikhail had been forced to accept the majority’s wish.

So be it.

They had no idea how much easier they’d made it for the killer.

Sighing, he tore his eyes from the view outside and headed down the creaking stairs, to the antechamber of the lower floor.

When he entered his room, Amelia’s blue gaze raced over him. “Mikhail, is everything okay? You were gone over forty-eight hours.”

He paused in his steps, leaving a good distance between them. “The Oracle died.”

Amelia’s eyes became even bluer and wider, and the shadows beneath sharpened.

Mikhail scanned the room, looking anywhere but at her. Her citrus and rose geranium scent lingered in the air. And with every inhale, the memory of the night they’d shared – of how she’d felt against him – threatened to pull him under. The beast raged at the thought.

“Some claim it was natural causes. I believe she was murdered,” he said, bringing his attention back to Amelia.

“Is there evidence of murder?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not exactly.”

“Surveillance cameras?”

“Have not yet been installed in that sector.”

“Maybe it really was natural causes, then…”

Mikhail crossed his arms over his chest. “That would be a mighty coincidence.”

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