Page 28 of The Last of Love

“Don’t you give up on me, Lena,” Fleur said, her voice cracking. She could feel tears welling up, but she blinked them away. She needed to stay focused, needed to get them there in time.

Finally, the research center came into view. A nondescript building that blended into its surroundings, easily overlooked by anyone who didn’t know what they were looking for. Fleur pulled up to the entrance, slamming the car into park andrushing to get Lena out. She supported Lena as they made their way to the door.

“Open up! Please, we need help!” Fleur shouted, pounding on the door with her fist, the sound echoing through the empty night.

A moment later, the door swung open, and a man in a white lab coat appeared, his eyes widening at the sight of Lena. He stepped aside, letting Fleur lead her inside. “She’s been bitten,” Fleur said, her voice trembling. “But I slowed it down. Please, you have to help her.”

The man nodded, motioning for two other lab workers to come forward. They took Lena from Fleur, placing her on a stretcher and wheeling her away. Fleur stood there, her heart racing, watching as they disappeared down the hallway.

“She’s in good hands,” the man said, his voice softer now. He looked at Fleur, his expression one of concern. “You did well getting her here, Dr. Fleur.”

Fleur swallowed hard, her chest tight. “She’s strong,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “She’s a fighter.”

The man nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. “We’ll do everything we can.”

Fleur watched as the door closed behind them, her knees suddenly weak. She had no time to ask questions or tell them about Walt. She sank into a chair, her hands trembling as she covered her face. She had done everything she could; now it was up to them. The fight wasn’t over, but for the first time since Lena had been bitten, Fleur allowed herself to hope.

11

LENA

Lena woke slowly, consciousness creeping back like the first light of dawn after a long, dark night. She felt groggy, her limbs as heavy as if they were made of lead. The ceiling above her was white and unfamiliar, and the smell of antiseptic filled the air. Her head throbbed slightly, and it took her a few moments to gather her bearings. The sterile room, the steady beep of machines, the sense of exhaustion. It was clear she was in some sort of medical facility. Or some kind of heaven.

She blinked, her vision slowly adjusting to the harsh light. Her heart pounded as memories began to rush back: Dr. Walt, the struggle. Panic gripped her chest. Where was she now? Was she still in danger? And then one thought broke through the haze: Fleur.

Lena forced herself to sit up, though her muscles protested the effort. She looked around the small room, taking in the rows of beds and equipment. There was a nurse at the far side of the room, her back turned as she worked on something at a counter. It seemed so clean… so sterile.

“Fleur?” Lena croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. She swallowed, her throat dry, and tried again, a little louder this time. “Fleur?”

The nurse turned at the sound of Lena’s voice, her expression softening when she saw Lena awake. She quickly walked over, her shoes clicking on the tile floor. “You’re awake,” the nurse said gently, her voice kind. “How are you feeling?”

Lena blinked at her. “Where’s Fleur?” she asked, her voice still raspy. She couldn’t focus on anything else, not until she knew that Fleur was okay.

The nurse nodded, her eyes understanding. “She’s here,” she said. “She’s been waiting for you to wake up. Let me go get her. She’s absolutely fine.”

Lena exhaled shakily, a wave of relief washing over her.

The minutes that passed felt like an eternity. Lena’s mind raced, flashes of her last memories playing over and over. Dr. Walt’s face twisted in malice, the feeling of her body betraying her, the darkness that had swallowed her whole. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push it all away. She was alive. Somehow, she had made it through. And Fleur was here.

The door creaked, and Lena’s eyes snapped open. Fleur entered, her steps quick, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and overwhelming relief. Lena’s heart swelled at the sight of her. Fleur looked different. Her hair was damp, pulled back from her face, and she was wearing fresh clothes, a simple t-shirt and jeans. She looked like she had finally been able to rest, though the worry was still evident in her eyes.

“Lena,” Fleur breathed, her voice breaking as she rushed to her side. She knelt down beside the bed, her eyes scanning Lena’s face as if to make sure she was really awake. “Oh, thank God,” she whispered, her hand reaching up to cup Lena’s cheek. Her touch was warm, grounding Lena in that moment.

“Fleur...” Lena whispered, her eyes filling with tears. She swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. “What... what happened? The last thing I remember, I was...”

Fleur took a shaky breath, her thumb brushing against Lena’s cheek. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “You don’t have to talk about it right now. Just know that you’re safe. They have what you need here. We made it. We made it together.”

Lena shook her head, her eyes searching Fleur’s. “I need to know,” she said, her voice trembling. “What happened after... with Dr. Walt?”

Fleur’s eyes softened, and she nodded, her hand moving to take Lena’s. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving Lena’s. “It’s a lot,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “But I’ll tell you everything. He’s an awful man. I should never have trusted him.”

Lena watched her face. She could see the exhaustion in Fleur’s eyes, the weight of whatever had happened since they had been separated. Fleur took a deep breath, her gaze steady.

“After Dr. Walt took you, I... I managed to get away,” Fleur began, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes. “He underestimated me. He thought he could control me, but he was wrong.” Her jaw tightened, a flicker of anger crossing her face. “I fought back. I found a way to get loose, and I... I killed him, Lena.”

Lena’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening. She stared at Fleur, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest: relief, disbelief, a strange sense of pride. “You killed him?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Fleur nodded, her eyes darkening. “I had to, I had no choice,” she said sharply. “He wasn’t going to stop. He was going to kill you, and he would have killed me, too. Or tortured me. I couldn’t let that happen.”

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