Chapter 3 #2
“Your father insisted I fetch you this morning. I’ve had something of a breakthrough yesterday and he did not want to waste time to see how the new regimen may help.”
My stomach churns, my chest going hollow.
“Oh,” I say. Because it’s all I can manage.
Usually I have the mornings to myself before I’m expected to venture into Tamiel’s ward.
I’d intended to use that time to explore our libraries for any information about the Blood Order that I might be able to find.
The feel of Andras’ eyes burning into my skin as he raised his glass my way from across the ring stuck with me, even now. Despite how terrifying it felt to be in his presence, something was pushing me to learn more.
But Tamiel doesn’t give me the time to let my mind linger on such things as she pulls me along and leads me down the familiar path to her ward.
My whole body clenches at the idea of whatever breakthroughs she’s apparently found.
Because her research and continuous findings only ever lead to one thing. More torment for me.
I scream out as Tamiel’s vile concoction enters my blood stream. The connection between the needle and my vein feels like acid and I would gladly reach over and scratch my own skin off to be rid of it, if only my arms weren’t strapped down against the vertically tilted examination table.
“Honestly, Evangeline. The theatrics?” Tamiel tsks. She circles me, tapping on the IV bag and increasing the compression to push the fluids faster—eliciting another scream from me as my veins burn alive with the poison rushing through them.
“It’s not,” I spit through heavy breaths, "theatrics.” My head lobs forward, my vision blurring as I try to hold onto consciousness.
I focus on my surroundings—the white tiles that cover the floor as well as the walls, the small silver drain directly under my feet for easy cleanup, the smell of antiseptic that burns my nostrils every time I enter this wretched place.
Each item does little to calm me, but for some reason that seems to help and my vision snaps back into focus.
“Look at me,” Tamiel orders, grabbing my head and forcing it back up before jamming a small light towards my eyes. I squeeze them shut and attempt to look away, but she holds firm and forces them back open—her long nails piercing the skin of my eyelid.
Pain radiates through my head as I’m blinded by the bright light. My mouth pops open as I groan, trying my best not to vomit. Tamiel hums, dropping the light and my head simultaneously before turning back to her clipboard and taking down some notes.
“Evangeline.” My father’s disgruntled voice echoes off the bare walls of the treatment room. I try to focus my vision, but all I can see every time I open my eyes are white spots left behind from Tamiel’s inspection of my pupils.
“Evangeline,” he repeats, somehow even more frustrated this time. I blink slowly, trying to force myself to gather composure. Slowly, his figure steps into my field of vision. His usually carefully manicured light grey hair looks disheveled, as if he’d been running his hands through it.
“Yes, father.” The words come out cloudy and slow.
“I just came to check on your progress.” He turns towards the bag, mimicking the way Tamiel tapped it mere moments ago. “From the clippings Tamiel shared with me, I am quite hopeful with this new thesis. I believe this may be the key to unlocking a step forward for you.”
I nod, or at least try to. But my head suddenly feels too heavy, my movements too difficult.
“How is it going so far?” My eyes are closed, but I don’t need to see in order to know he’s turned his attention to Tamiel now. I’m not the one to be considered where medical information is being shared.
“Good so far,” Tamiel says. But I can hear the hesitance in her voice. My father must too, because he pauses. I force my eyes open to find him glaring at Tamiel, his teeth grinding behind a firm and fierce jaw.
“Keep pushing. I want full reports after today’s session. I want to see some progress.”
“Sir,” Tamiel starts, casting a dubious glance my way. “I want results as well, but there’s only so much we can safely administer in one session.”
“The only thing unsafe is the Arcane still in her.” His voice is stern, making Tamiel stiffen as his power echoes through the room. “Double the dose if you must, but we must find a solution. One way or another. I’m tired of this purgatory”
His gaze lands on me once more, and my body trembles. Not out of fear, but out of pure reaction to the drugs. I feel weak, sick, as if another five minutes in this torment would be the death of me. And I know he can tell it, too.
“And Evangeline is tired of it too, isn’t she?” Even though he’s looking at me, he still speaks to Tamiel. As if I’m barely a participant in this decision.
He reaches out, the back of his fingers caressing my cheek. “This is her duty, after all. We wouldn’t want to upset the gods by neglecting our duties. Would we?”
My chin trembles as I look up into his eyes. I want nothing more than for him to see my pain and insist this insanity stop. But I know it will never happen. And it fractures me in ways I’m sure I will never be able to mend.
“No, father,” I say with as much strength as I can muster.
“That’s my girl,” he says, dropping his hand to my shoulder and squeezing. The motion roils my blood and I dry heave, causing him to step back.
“Yes, well, back to it, Tamiel.” He nods towards her before turning on the balls of his feet.
Tamiel muffles a sigh, but pulls another bag of the burgundy potion from her stores and hooks it to the IV stand.
“Tamiel, no. Please,” I whisper, shaking my head.
“It will be fine.” Her words are hollow, distant. And I know she’s hiding herself away behind the mask she dons as head of the Alpha’s medical and research team.
She lets the first bag drain before clamping the line and spiking the new bag. The world slows as I watch her reach for the clamp and the crimson liquid fills the IV once more. I scream out as the second round hits my bloodstream, shredding the last bit of dignity I have left.
My screams echo off the walls as the foreign substance possesses me, wrestles inside me, and tries to snuff out the Arcane within me. Tears stream down my face as my body spasms against its restraints.
I cry out, begging—pleading—for someone to take pity on me. But the only answer is the scratch of Tamiel’s pencil against her clipboard and the distant echo of my father’s footsteps as he leaves.