Page 68 of Amethyst Flame
“You’re blackmailing me to go out with you.”
“I am not.” He leaned in close. “I would never do anything so low. I don’t appreciate the insinuation that I would. I’m the good guy here.”
“Walks like an asshole. Talks like an asshole.” Probably an asshole.
“Fine.” He held out his hand in the space between our bodies, tapping his pointer finger and thumb together. Blue sparks zapped between the digits and then settled in a little zagged lash of sustained miniature lightning.
Holy shit! “Um, yeah, let’s get lunch.”
I wasn’t alone. There was someone else who was like me.
My pulse raced around my body, like Gwumpki the cat getting the zoomies. This was shaping up to be a very big day. No wonder he’d been after me from the beginning.
I insisted on driving—had to move the car anyway. Will’s knees were a little crammed against my cracked dash, but he didn’t complain even though the car's interior was hot enough to double my heart rate. And it smelled old and sun-dusty too.
We got three bags of burgers, fries, shakes, and assorted condiments. A caloric bomb, and I was game even after all the yummy, glazed treats in Adley’s office. Adley—who’d offered a personal chef to meet my needs in a healthy way. She’d sounded like Dane going on about a sustaining diet.
I pulled into a shady spot on the far side of the Big Lots! parking lot. Killed the engine. And turned to Will. “Okay, spill.”
“Show me yours first,” he demanded.
I flipped him a purple-powered bird…that lasered the ceiling of my car and left a smoking hole. I slapped at the spot. My poor baby.
“I thought so.” He nodded, eyes bright with victory. “Do you know if your car is bugged?”
“I do not.” Though I wouldn’t put it past Dane to do something like that. A little voice in my head said,Adley too.
I dug inside a bag for a cheeseburger.
“Imogen, you have to be more careful. There are people out there—badpeople—who want what we have.”
No kidding. “What exactly do we have, Will?”
He went quiet for a minute, and I totally understood. It was hard to divulge big secrets, especially ones that could kill.
Finally, he said, “It's called a robotically transmitted nanocular virus with electromagaleron propulsive and manipulative affect exhibiting a degenerative prognosis.”
“What the what what?” My mouth was full. I swallowed. “Electrocular propulative whosanosis? Megabot effects?”
“It’s not a joke.”
“No shit. What does all of that mean? And who named it? Because they hate you.”
He dropped his head into his hands. “Oh god. I was hoping you’d be the one with answers, not me. I need a cure! I hoped you had it!”
“Eat.” I handed him a wrapped, hot burger. “You sound like me when my moths are ravenous.” I opened my shake and dipped my fries into the sludgy chocolate. Salty sweet goodness. “As far as I know, there is no cure. I survived one extraction process, but the bugs just came back.”
He brooded as he chewed. The day’s heat made his pale skin blotchy, but my car was too old for the A/C to blow cold unless it was moving. Finally, he asked, “Who extracted them?”
“A dead dude,” I answered. “Shot himself.” Ricocheted off me, actually, but Will didn’t need to know that. “How did you get infected in the first place?”
He huffed with frustration. “I was waiting in my dad’s office for him to get out of a shareholder meeting so he could yell at me about flunking out. Again. I checked his safe—his password is always the day after my mom died, fucking shit stain that he is—and found a vial of sparkly stuff. Thought it was some fancy new painkiller, which is how he made his billions. Drank it all.” He darted a glance at me. “I collapsed. Got super sick. And then I was surrounded by white coats. They saved my life. Studied the virus…and me.” He took another bite. “Your turn.”
“Yeah, um…” I went with a similarly abbreviated version. “I got some magic goo in an ugly cut.” I showed him the back of my hand where a pale X still marked the spot. “Hurled up my guts the next day. Almost killed my cat with a random blast.”
“And this dead dude?”
“Wanted the bugs back. Tried to suck them out of me. I might have screamed a little.”
