Page 153 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

The necromancer frowned. “Diana, I don’t think you should drink the stuff in the vial.”

“What the hell!?” she exploded.

“It was a bad idea then, and now it’s a death sentence, considering it might come from an entirely different species. Even if it works on them, there’s no guarantee it will work on you the same way.”

Diana stood, clenching her fists. “You agreed. You agreed to mind your own business no matter what!”

“I think we need to read the book and then discuss it,” Mikhail suggested.

Diana’s attention fell on the vial on the counter. She had believed that Constantine understood her motives, but apparently, it wasn’t so.

Then, Alex spoke. “C., the author of the journal, was an alchemist. He made attempts to immortalise humans. Maybe his experiments are connected to our vial?”

Diana threw her a glance. So, it’s ‘our vial’ now?

Whatever was in it couldn’t be worse than what awaited her if she didn’t drink it.

She stared at it again. Sometimes Luka had been too brave, borderline insane, but he was also the brightest creature she had ever known. He wouldn’t send her to her death. Surely, he knew what he was doing. It dawned on her, a little late, that he had probably understood all along what his deal with Mada meant – what the price would be. He knew he’d never get to test out the vial’s contents for himself. He hadn’t taken the vial for himself. He had taken it for her.

Diana’s muscles tightened and, in a heartbeat, she was by the table. She clutched the vial between her fingers and popped the lid with her thumb.

“Diana, don’t!” Constantine’s panic-filled gaze met her own.

She drank the contents, emptying the vial to the last drop, and held her breath in anticipation.

Alex approached her. “How are you feeling?”

“Good…” Oddly enough, her physical state was pretty much the same.

It’s short-lasting. Turn.

Now or never.

But she had never turned before. What if she couldn’t do it? It was natural for them, Luka had often told her. There was no way to not know how…

Pain pierced through her stomach, sending agonising spasms all the way down to her heels. She bent over, hugging her stomach. Fresh drops of blood dripped on the grey tiles. Her nose was bleeding.

“Your eyes are blood-red!” Alex screamed.

The torture dissolved as quickly as it had appeared. Okay, that wasn’t so bad… Diana straightened.

“It’s starting,” Mikhail said.

Starting? She’d thought it was over.

At that moment, each muscle in her body contracted. The pain returned, determined to finish her off. As though someone had sliced her stomach open and was taking out her organs one by one, cutting them off. Without recalling ever having fallen, she found herself on the floor. Every single bone in her body broke.

Diana screamed in horror.

48

Amelia was lying with her back pressed to the floor, in one of the many rooms she now inhabited. Her mind was creating scenes to keep herself occupied, and her senses happily played to its command.

It was November. The small two-storey house, built with so much effort and will, refused to bend under the force of the heavy snowfall. The weather forecasters had it wrong. Heaps of snow blocked the village, so Amelia’s parents couldn’t come to pick her up. She would stay a few days longer with her grandmother.

Heaven! Every night, her grandmother would take her to the most comfortable bed in the house – an old and squeaky blue metal frame with a hard mattress – and tell her a story about bravery. After that, Amelia would fall asleep and have the same dream.

The Lonely Prince, she called him. He was proud, with a noble bearing. He lived in a magnificent castle and owned everything a prince could ever desire, but his bright green eyes, speckled with yellow crescents, were always gloomy and pensive. Sometimes, as he stared out into the night through the tall window in his tower, their colour would intensify and turn golden.

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