Page 124 of Red Demon
“I’m fascinated by what I found in your code. You have no idea what lengths I went to protect you.”
I tried to focus on his words, not his roving hands, to pull my consciousness away.
Kane returned, taking in the sight. “I’d expect you’d have the ungrateful traitor screaming by now, Major.”
“Patience, Kane,” Mahakal said. “Shall we show him who he truly is? Give me your knife.”
Kane stepped forward, producing a sleek dagger from his belt, handing it to Mahakal.
Mahakal gestured toward me, the knife glinting in the electric light before he seared a shallow cut down my arm. “Have you ever heard of microchimerism?” He leaned closer. “It’s nothing new, in its simplest form. A woman can absorb stem cells from her fetus. That foreign code can alter her body in both subtle and miraculous ways. She may find herself with curlier hair, or her cancer cured. Rarely harmful, but rarely meaningful.”
He trailed his finger across my chest, his voice a chilling whisper. “Directed Microchimerism, that’s the technical term of what the Crofton lab continued to produce after the queen outlawed the mod. You, Jesse, can quickly transmute foreign code into stem cells from almost any cell in your body. And it models the replication, trying out a change before it commits to a wide-scale change.”
He brought the knife closer to Kane, the tip a hair’s breadth from his skin. “I’ll show you. A simple nick, that’s all it takes.”
Kane winced, but held still. A single crimson bead welled up on his arm before Mahakal collected it on the dagger, then kissed Kane’s arm. When Kane groaned at that, I knew I’d never be horny again.
I watched in horror as Mahakal spread that blade across the wound on my arm, mixing Kane’s blood with mine.
“There,” Mahakal’s voice was a low purr. “I’m curious to see if blood contact yields different results to more intimate forms of DNA exchange. After all, Kane tells me you absorbed code from him in a much more pleasurable manner.”
My head throbbed, swimming with nausea.
“How’d you get the Red Demon’s code, Jesse, when you were in our camp?” Kane asked. “You saw those scars and still fucked her?”
My eyes widened. Her blood met mine the first time we fought. The healing, the stamina, all of it, from her. I added that to the tally of how many times she’d saved my life. A fragile smile survived the wreckage of my shuddering breath.
Mahakal grasped my smile in the talons of his gaze. “It was nice of the mutt to leave some blood behind to test. Our first sample from her. The Red Demon’s code is also—fascinating.”
I growled, the sound echoing off the stone walls.
“He definitely fucked the mutt,” Mahakal laughed to Kane, giving my cheek a patronizing pat. “But we won’t be wasting your code anymore. Even an untrained dog can be bred.”
Chapter 50
Choice
Mahakal’s words echoed in my skull. Even an untrained dog can be bred.
“No.” My voice constricted on the word.
Mahakal nodded to Kane, who left the room, the thick door creaking on its hinges. Acid filled my mouth.
Kane came back with a small, rickety table that he placed just out of my reach. Mahakal pulled me up by my hair, forcing a kneel. My vision turned over in dark seas, settling on the tablet Kane placed on the table.
“You should be excited,” Mahakal purred as the screen flickered to life, revealing a grainy image that flickered into focus when the lights came on. Video from a prison cell, similar to mine.
A tattered figure hunched in the corner, a woman—dark skin, matted with blood and grime. No. Mira? But as the hunched figure shifted, a shock of auburn braid tumbled free.
“Ruan…?” My rasp echoed off the stone. I’d assumed she was dead, burned with the rest of the bodies in Nunbiren, my snarky and fiery friend.
My eyes clamped down. When I found the strength to look, Mahakal smiled down at me. He whispered a name I didn’t recognize into the comm at his ear, his voice clipped and cold.
On the video feed, a soldier entered the cell, slamming his boot into Ruan’s curled body, the dull sound echoing through the feed. Ruan reacted with a feral snarl, her body twisting in the corner against her manacles. I leaned in. It was a primal response—angry and devoid of fear. I studied her on the feed as she continued to rail, striking up at the soldier, mouthing unintelligible curses.
“She’s still got a ruren-sa in her. Can you cure her?” I didn’t know which answer would hurt more. Faruhar believed there was no cure but death. If she was wrong, then I’d killed people who could have been saved.
“No, this is all that is left of her mind.” Mahakal’s voice was smooth, savoring my pain. “But SBO is a virus, not a mod. Her flaw will not carry to future generations.”
