25. Kaelus
KAELUS
Kaelus had discovered something extraordinarily satisfying during his second morning in the Blood Archive—he did not need Sendar.
In fact, he was considerably more productive without the irritating male hovering over his shoulder, steering him away from particular databases and inventing reasons why certain historical samples could not be accessed.
Kaelus had arrived shortly after first light, armed with the access protocols he had quietly copied the previous day and a considerable amount of determination.
It had taken him nearly an hour to work his way through the layered security surrounding the oldest records, but the Blood Archive had been built by scientists, not politicians, and scientists had a predictable weakness—they wanted information preserved even when governments later decided it ought to be hidden.
Somewhere beneath every restriction was an original record, and Kaelus had spent enough of his life dealing with badly organized medical databases to know how to find the cracks.
Once he found them, the truth had unfolded with astonishing speed.
The ancient records confirmed nearly everything he and Clair had begun to suspect.
The Love Virus had never disappeared from Titus Four.
It had never mutated into some harmless modern variant, and the males of the planet had never developed natural immunity.
Ancient blood samples from the Savage Period carried essentially the same viral markers Kaelus had found in the modern population.
What had changed was not the virus…the population had changed around it. More specifically, the women had.
Kaelus scrolled through centuries of forgotten research, his excitement growing as one piece of the puzzle after another dropped into place.
Records from the period immediately preceding what Titus Four historians called the “Great Accord” contained repeated references to veloria consumption among females, followed by gradual reductions in violent male episodes.
There were notations regarding intimate contact, descriptions of women calming afflicted males through prolonged physical closeness, and several frustratingly vague references to something translated as the “female protective factor.” Later researchers had identified an unknown metabolite in male blood but apparently failed—or perhaps had been prevented—from tracing its origin.
Kaelus knew its origin now—Clair had found it.
His brilliant, impossible, curvy lab partner had discovered that female bodies transformed the inactive veloria precursor into the active compound circulating in protected males.
A surge of pride filled him just thinking about her and Kaelus wished she were standing beside him.
The thought came with an ache he immediately tried to suppress.
He had left early because he needed distance after the previous night—that was the sensible explanation, anyway.
He had told himself that allowing Clair to sleep was an act of consideration and that coming to the Archive alone was simply efficient.
Both things were true…but neither was the entire truth.
Kaelus had awakened with Clair wrapped around him, her cheek resting against his chest and one small leg draped over his thigh, and for several dangerous minutes he had allowed himself to imagine that she truly was his wife.
He had wanted to stay there in bed with her…
wanted to wake her with a kiss…wanted to tell her everything he had forbidden himself to say.
So he had gotten out of bed before weakness overcame him and headed for the Blood Archives.
Now, several hours later, he found himself missing her when he ought to be focused on work.
“Pathetic,” he muttered to himself. “You know you can never have her. Concentrate.”
Kaelus returned his attention to the historical records and continued downloading everything he could find.
The final set of data was the most damning.
It concerned viral specimens removed from archival storage within the last several years—ancient strains from the Savage Period which should never have left secure containment.
Most of the authorization information had been deleted, but the deletion itself had left traces. Someone with senior Archive privileges had accessed the samples, copied the genomic structures, and later removed physical material.
Someone with precisely the level of authority Sendar possessed.
Kaelus’s jaw tightened as he copied every piece of information onto his data pad and a pattern began to form.
Ancient viral strain retrieval…unexplained genomic manipulation…
off-world transport logs disguised as routine biological shipments.
And then the most damning thing of all—a shipment sent toward the same region of space where the Glenvarren colony was located.
And all of them had been signed off by Sendar.
The circumstantial evidence was overwhelming. Sendar had not merely known about the Savage Syndrome outbreak—he had caused it.
Kaelus cursed under his breath. This bastard was directly responsible for the deaths in the Glenvarren colony. But why had he done it? Why had he—?
A sharp stinging sensation as something pierced the side of his neck derailed his thoughts.
He grunted in pain and slapped at his neck.
“Ow! Fuck,” he grumbled. He didn’t usually curse, but that had hurt. Had he been stung by some kind of local insect?
He rubbed at the area, but the sensation was already gone and he didn’t see any stinging insects flying anywhere—they would have a hard time getting into the sealed and secure Blood Archives anyway. So what had stung him?
“Well, well and how is the research going?” a voice murmured in his ear.
Kaelus whirled around and saw Sendar stood less than two meters behind him.
In one hand he held a narrow syringe fitted with an unusually long needle—a drop of bright green fluid trembled at its tip.
Kaelus stared at it, then at Sendar. Had the other male injected him with something?
“What in the Seven Hells are you doing?” he demanded angrily.
“Oh nothing much—I just gave you a little something to help your research along.” Sendar gave him an evil smile. “You’re so interested in the Savage Syndrome—I thought you might like to experience it first-hand.”
Cold horror crawled through him, and Kaelus’s hand flew to his neck again.
The injection site was already beginning to burn.
A sick certainty settled over him—Sendar wasn’t kidding. Still, he had a hard time believing the male would do something so heinous.
“You infected me with the syndrome?” he asked in disbelief.
Sendar nodded smugly.
“In just a little while, you’ll feel the full effects. Just in time for your beloved little wife to find you. I just called Maera and she said Clair is on the way. Apparently she made some kind of breakthrough and wants to share it with you.”
For one terrible second, Kaelus could not make sense of the words.
Clair was coming here. Clair…his Clair.
His mind supplied an image before he could stop it—Clair walking into the Archive smiling and excited, clutching her data pad, eager to tell him what she had discovered. Then another image followed…
Clair screaming while something savage and diseased inside him used his enormous strength against her…his hands closing around her delicate body…his fangs piercing deep to inject his essence as his mating fist filled her.
The reports from Glenvarren flashed through his mind—the women attacked by males who had loved them, protected them, and worshipped them only hours before. Seven women dead in the first two days. Males sobbing afterward when the fever broke enough for them to understand what they had done.
Kaelus felt like he was going to be sick.
No. No, no, no. He couldn’t do that to Clair! He would rather die.
He shoved the mental images away so violently his head hurt.
Please Goddess—let me find a way out of this! Don’t let me hurt the woman I love!
The prayer came instinctively, ripped from somewhere deeper than thought inside him. Kaelus had never been an especially religious male. He respected the Goddess, and honored the traditions of his people, but science had always been the language through which he understood the universe.
Now science had betrayed him…or rather, one scientist had.
“You son of a bitch!” he growled at Sendar, his voice coming out low and hoarse. “You can’t make me hurt her—I won’t fucking do it!”
Sendar merely gave him that smug, evil smile again.
“How can you avoid it with the virus running rampant in your system?”
Kaelus wanted to wring the other male’s neck, but there was no time to punish Sendar for his evil. He had to get out—he had to get far away from here until the symptoms subsided.
He crossed the chamber in three enormous strides and struck the access panel to the main doors, but nothing happened. Feeling desperate, he entered the emergency override, but it was denied. He tried again and the panel flashed red.
Behind him, Sendar laughed softly.
“Don’t bother trying to run—the doors will only open for me and I won’t open them until your dear little wifey appears.”
Kaelus turned back toward him, glaring as a red curtain dropped over his vision. Rage rose inside him so quickly it almost frightened him. Perhaps the virus was already beginning its work.
He lunged for the other male, but a blaster suddenly appeared in Sendar’s hand.
“I don’t think so—step back, if you please, Doctor Kaelus,” he said pleasantly.
Kaelus curled his hands into fists.
“You killed your own wife and now you want me to kill mine!” he growled.
Sendar’s expression changed and Kaelus saw not guilt, but smug satisfaction.
“Indeed I did—I don’t deny it. You see, she got into the same records you were perusing just now and made the same conclusions I assume you were making,” he said. “She found out that I was the one who brought the Savage Syndrome virus to the Glenvarren colony.”
“But why?” Kaelus still couldn’t comprehend it. “Why would you do such a thing?”
Sendar shrugged.