Page 37 of Sergi
He chuckled, which made Gheata turn, his face inches from Sergi’s.
“What do you find so funny?”
Sergi smiled. If he had contracted the rare blood disease, what did it matter if his beast took over? Wouldn’t that be a better end for a warrior than wasting away day by day for decades? Gheata would understand. Instead, Sergi dropped his head, unwilling to play his game.
Once he’d fallen asleep, the nightmares came again. This time he relived Devon’s readdiction to Magic Poppy after Boretsky’s murder. Was that how he’d end up? Trapped inhis beast form, forever changed. Would he even recognize his friends? What was the end game? A mindless beast always hunting.
When the door opened, he remained still, feigning sleep. He recognized the soft shuffle of feet seconds before her scent washed over him. The shifter. He sensed her fear, anger, and the briefest sweet whiff of her wild nature.
He lifted his head. He hadn’t heard the guard. She was alone.
She glanced his way once then ignored him as she dusted off the table. After she replaced the mug of water, she looked over her shoulder, appeared satisfied they were alone, and opened the cooler. She gave a slight nod. He wasn’t sure why, except to confirm the decreasing number of vials. She closed the cooler, picked up the waste bin, and stared into it. She reached in and pulled out the syringe Gheata had thrown out. She studied it, then turned her gaze to him.
He caught her eyes. They were hazel. She was too far away for him to have determined that in the shallow light, but he remembered from her last visit when she’d stood inches from him after washing off his body.
She stepped closer, and it didn’t escape his notice that her steps weren’t tentative as they had been in the past. Her curiosity had been piqued, and she showed him the syringe.
“Do you know what was in this? It has a different label description.”
A different label description. Had he heard that correctly? Different than what? Maybe she was talking about the blood vials in the cooler.
He never took his eyes from hers, and she never turned away. There was a fierceness in her he’d only caught quick moments of before.
“Magic Poppy.” The beast raged at his words, and he used every ounce of strength to silence it. Each time he had to suppress, it became more difficult.
Her forehead scrunched at his words. “I’ve heard of that.” She paced in front of him, her gaze going to the door again. She turned her head as if listening. Sergi didn’t hear anything, and she must not have either. She stared at the label on the syringe then snapped her fingers.
“This is the drug that makes vampires go crazy.” She spun around to face him, her eyes wide. Yes. Hazel eyes ringed with a smoky blue circle. He slowly nodded, and she squinted, little lines forming over her nose. “But why?” She went back to pacing. “Unless they’re trying to control you through your beast the same way they’re trying to control shifters. Maybe.”
Control shifters? Is that what they’ve been doing here? It seemed Venizi had his fingers in many pots. But it made sense. An army of mind-controlled vampires and shifters. He wasn’t sure it was enough to crush the humans, but what other reason was there?
“Is there a cure for this?” She held up the syringe.
“I don’t know. I think this is a different formula than what I’ve seen before.” His voice was ragged, and he dropped his head, unable to hold it up.
She looked at the label again. “Magic Poppy. That must be what the MP on the label means. It’s the same dose they gave you yesterday.”
She was a smart one. But what game was she playing? She tossed the syringe in the trash and left to empty it. Once she placed the bin back in its spot, she strode to him.
“Why are you here?”
Was this a trick? Did Gheata send her? Had their experiments worked and this female was a test?
Her expression was encouraging, but after a moment, she grinned. “You think their Master sent me. I understand. But I could say the same of you. Purposely sacrificing yourself for the common good. Try to find troublemakers within the shifter slaves.” She shrugged. “I suppose it’s too late to do anything about it now. There are shifters who work for our captors. I used to hate them until I witnessed the experiments. Some would do anything not to be a test subject.”
Her face paled in some memory, and when she looked up at him, her anger was palpable. “I have another question for you, vampire. Are you someone who can help us, or will you be our ultimate ruin?”
She shuffled to the door. Before she closed it, he croaked, “Blood Poppy.”
She turned back to him.
“I don’t know if it’s a cure, but Blood Poppy might work.”
She studied him, and without responding, she walked out.
When the bar locked in place, he tried to sleep. When the beast pushed to be set free, he found peace in hazel-colored eyes.
After stowingthe cart in the closet, I followed the guard to the cafeteria. It hadn’t been that long since breakfast, but I wouldn’t complain about extra food, especially since I’d missed lunch the last two days.
