Page 106 of Amethyst Flame
Ruskin talking like a cult leader apparently had no relationship to coffee consumption. She was just like that naturally.
Dane stepped up beside me. “Doctor Ruskin, you need to continue this important work, but not while risking more lives, including Imogen and Will. Let’s make sure they are stable and safe before you take the next leap in changing the world.”
Will snarled, the eerie reverb in his throat giving the sound a particular menace. “Who the hell is this guy, Mo?” His lip curl was mean. “Why are you letting him tell you what to do? He just wants to take what you have, stop you from becoming what you’re meant to be. And let me tell you”—his nostrils flared as he took a breath—“you can be anything you want.”
“Will,” I gave a small, terrified laugh, “let’s not do anything drastic. We have all these smart people here to help, people who care about us.” I shot a quick glance at his dad, widening my eyes in an unspoken, urgent suggestion to, like, sayI love youto his son or some shit.
But he only backed away as Will shoved up against Ruskin’s stool and grabbed her shoulder again. “Wake them. Now.”
Ruskin swiveled toward the nearest computer terminal, reaching for the keyboard.
“Adley, no,” I said.
But I wasn’t sure if she even heard me—or could comply. At Will’s touch, an eerie pulse of blue rushed through the visible veins around her skull. A soft whine wheezed from her as she cued up some program, and the dunk tank bubbles subsided, revealing the internal honeycomb in more detail. Each cell about the size of my fist pulsed like a heartbeat, and to my nano-enhanced vision, they glowed with promise.
Unbound MoTH hives, awaiting their host.
Or was Will planning to infect all these people too? The vitals from Ruskin’s implant proved that they would all probably reject them. Reject them and die.
In the middle of the tank was a long, jointed robotic arm, like a claw machine in a carnival midway. The pincher began to descend.
The sharp, cracking boom of a gunshot made me jump—and shriek a little, not gonna lie.
Ruskin’s computer shattered. The stink of cordite from Dane’s gun washed over me, and I sneezed. In that same breath, the two white coats—less Best Minds and more brute strength—grabbed Ruskin and yanked her away from the console, knocking her to the floor. I wasn’t sure if they thought they were saving her from a bad shot or saving us from her bad choices. Meanwhile, Will’s dad rabbited for the laboratory door, fucking coward.
Will’s roar of anger expanded out from him in a blue-tinged wave of nanobots. His version of a [shove] command knocked everything askew, upended the white coats, and pinned the elder Teller face-first against the door.
I opened my hands in the [shield] command. My amethyst butterflies fluttered and burned against the bell of blue, scattering the energy.
“Will, fight the hive,” I said. “We can help you if you just wait. If you hold out a little longer, the technology is on its way—”
“I won’t survive.” He shrugged. “Ruskin said so.”
I looked at her, sprawled on the scuffed tile floor. “Did she say that, or the bugs you shoved into her head?” I took a step toward him, keeping my shield at the ready.
Some fool on the BantaMatrix team murmured, “I have a shot.”
Dane lifted a hand to get them to hold position.
“Ruskin doesn’t know about the Artemisia Protocol,” I said. “They can put us in stasis, halt the deterioration, while they remove the hives. You can be free. Justthink—you could have your life back.” Oh my god, I couldn’t believeIof all people was advocating for the thoughtful approach.
But who wouldn’t take a little moment of grace, right? We all deserved someone who would give us a second chance, not judge too harshly, who wouldn’t run away when things got rough, someone who stayed through the storm.
“Come on, Will,” I urged. “It’s you and me, together. You said we aren’t special, we aren’t the only ones, but we’re here now, and we are the only ones who decide how this will go for us.”
He hunched his shoulders, dropping his face and balling his fist at his sides. For a moment, I thought he was listening to me.
Then he lifted his head, blue fire sparking from his eyes.
“Ah, fuck it.” I braced myself, spreading my hands to widen the shield spell around Dane and me.
Blue hit purple and flared in irregular patches, an echo of his deranged behavior. It was harder to maintain the shield with that uneven load. I gritted my teeth and tried to reinforce just the areas where his bugs chewed harder, conserving my power.
Through the writhing sparks of purple and blue and interference of the molecular energy, I couldn’t see Will, and I supposed he couldn’t see me. “You get Ruskin and the hostages,” I said to Dane through my clenched teeth. “I’ll hold Will.”
“Don’t damage that tank,” he warned, needlessly. Then he raised a hand and waved BantaMatrix’s security team forward. They quickly crept up and retrieved Ruskin, who was on the verge of collapse.
I jerked my head in a nod. Will’s unbalanced attack was tricky to counter, but if I thought about it less like a single solid shield and more like dozens of smaller guards—like my EldWitch’s armored plate mail—I could deflect the dangerous pulse. But I wasn’t sure how long I could last.
