CHAPTER 31
“W e have a fucking problem.” Lippincott paced in front of me, as I leaned back in my office chair, watching the man unravel over something.
He kept muttering to himself about someone having lied to him, his hair a mess atop his head from where he’d damned near rubbed his skull raw. “The girl. The girl is a problem.”
“What girl?” I asked, casually sipping my drink. Although, I had a pretty good idea who he was talking about.
He shook his head, not bothering to slow his pacing. “Don’t fuck with me. You know what girl. The girl. The one I told you to watch.”
“And I have. So, what’s the problem?” Ordinarily, I’d have found his anxiety somewhat amusing. In light of the fact that I had something much more exciting, in the form of a newly-prepped injection of the toxin, waiting on me back at my lab, I was bored.
“The problem? Have you seen her?”
Damned near every night when I closed my eyes, but I didn’t bother to say that aloud.
“She’s a spitting image of her mother!”
“A number of children are.”
“Quit fucking mocking me, Devryck!” He slammed his fist against my desk, though he failed to intimidate me with his anger.
Shoulders squared, he stared at me with unflinching bravery, seeing as my patience had begun to wear thin already.
“Her mother is the other missing woman. The runaway in your father’s fucked-up study. ”
Fuck. I frowned at that. Was hoping he’d have remained obtuse enough not to make the connection—one I’d had my own suspicions about since having read that faulty coroner’s report. “You’re certain of this,” I said, playing dumb.
“Do you imagine I’d forget a face like that?”
Given the questions that Lilia had asked, I didn’t get the impression she was aware that her mother had participated in the study. Otherwise, I suspected she’d have been much more specific in her many inquiries.
“I told you I’d keep an eye on her, and I will.
” I reached for the decanter of bourbon to fill his glass, because goddamn, with his face beet red, he looked like he was two breaths away from a stroke.
“So far, she hasn’t stirred any trouble,” I added, as I filled my own glass.
Since he’d confirmed my suspicions about her mother’s participation in Crixson, I couldn’t wrap my head around the odds of it.
Fate must’ve hit the crack pipe again, the way it kept reminding me how much of an absolute prick my father had been in life.
“She’s here for a reason, Devryck. She’s undoubtedly trying to dig up information.
And when she does, I’ll once again find myself in front of the firing squad.
Your fucking father ruined my life with this.
” He pushed off my desk, pacing again. “Ruined it!” He punched the air like a madman, as if my old man were standing in front of him right then.
Not that I blamed him. I’d have had a few punches to throw myself.
“Relax. She’s merely curious about the organism.”
Ignoring me, he swiped up his drink from the desk, spilling drops of liquor onto the shiny surface–an observation that annoyed the hell out of me.
“Gilchrist fucking assigned her Crixson Hall . Do you think that was an accident?” He tipped back his drink, nearly choking when he didn’t wait long enough to answer his own question.
“No. The woman has it in for me. She’s trying to sabotage my fucking life for not having promoted her!
” He shook his head, then returned to pacing and sipping his drink.
Growling, he loosened his tie, furthering the lunatic look.
“That lying piece of shit. Slimy motherfucker lied right to my face!” It was hard to tell if he was talking about Langmore, the girl’s mother, or someone else.
“I was wrong. Granting her a semester here was a fucked idea. Fucked!”
“You’re only just now coming to this conclusion?”
“I had no idea who the hell she was. Her last name isn’t the same. Wasn’t like her transcripts arrived with a fucking family album!” It was a wonder he hadn’t rubbed all of the hair clean off his skull, the way he kept running his hands over it. “She has to go.”
“Wouldn’t it be wiser to contain the problem? She signed a nondisclosure, meaning she can’t speak a word of anything related to Noctisoma. Not without legal repercussions.”
He scratched at his jaw, obviously considering my words as he stared off. “Does she have any other family?”
I didn’t like the idea of telling him Lilia’s personal information, but not telling him might’ve only stoked his curiosity, had him watching her closer, instead of trusting me to keep an eye on her. “A half-sister and the mother’s ex-boyfriend.”
Another sip, and he flicked his fingers, asking for another refill. “And the mother passed? We know she passed away?”
I pushed the decanter in front of him, refusing to oblige the man every time he sucked down his drink, but God help the bastard if he spilled it again. “Four years ago, from what I’ve gathered.”
He poured his drink, and I watched as it splashed around the rim, but lucky for him, it remained in the glass. “She hasn’t come to you with any questions?”
That was laughable. “Yes. A fucking barrage of them. None of them concerning.” The chair creaked as I leaned back and kicked my feet up on the desk. “She’s just a girl dreaming of finding a cure for the disease that took her mother’s life.”
“She hasn’t inquired about Crixson, at all ?”
“No. And what does it matter? Those files are locked away. The information on her mother and Kepling no longer exists. You’re being paranoid.” Aside from sheer fascination, I had no connection, no loyalty to the girl. The fact that I was protecting her made zero sense to me.
Exhaling a long breath, he slid into the opposite chair. “Perhaps you’re right. What the fuck can she do? Nothing.” He blew through the entire glass of liquor in one swill and slammed the glass down on my desk. “Fine. She stays. For now.”
It was then it occurred to me that I had just negotiated Lilia’s ability to remain enrolled.
Hell if I knew why.
* * *
I stared down at my phone, where Lilia’s video sat paused.
I’d dreamed about her the night before. Those long, slender fingers tracing over my arms and up the back of my neck.
A torment I’d carried with me all afternoon and into the evening, when she interrupted my concentration at the library.
Gilchrist was a nuisance, but Lilia, she was a distraction. An irritatingly welcomed one.
I thought back to the look in her eyes when I’d had her cornered against those bookshelves.
The defiant glint that made me want to seize those pouty fucking lips of hers and end whatever the hell it was that held me hostage to the girl’s poisonous spell.
That infuriating scent of hers that messed with my brain chemistry.
The delicious enchantment that undoubtedly lured men to their doom.
One touch. One touch would end this agonizing curiosity, but might just send me spiraling into madness.
Damn her for being so inquisitive. The questions she’d begun to ask had dipped into dangerous waters, particularly since Lippincott had suspected who her mother was, and if the wrong person happened to overhear her, who knew what that’d mean for her.
I loathed this secret obsession I’d begun to develop with her.
It was wrong.
While she might’ve been of age, a woman essentially, she was still forbidden, and the fact that I had any sense of yearning at all served as a testament to the effectiveness of my last inoculation.
I lifted the syringe from its case, where the pale purple substance had my veins tingling for a sip.
The toxin had begun to metabolize at a much slower pace for me, after all the weeks I’d taken it, but it was nowhere near stable enough for clinical trials.
In the absence of the parasite, it had no true mechanism of replenishing itself, and therefore, its effects were short-lived.
Subsequent generations of the parasite had proven to be more specific toward human genetics, but there remained a flaw. Sustainability.
And the matter of requiring human sacrifice to breed the parasite and teach it our pathophysiology.
The other issue was a side effect that triggered my own need to breed.
Even in the absence of the parasite itself, as the inoculation I gave myself consisted of nothing more than purified toxin, it still compelled my brain to fuck something.
An urge I’d managed to control for the most part, even in the presence of the many young, fertile women on campus.
A chemical mechanism carried out by the very toxin that I willingly injected into myself.
Because it was also this toxin that compelled my immune system and helped to create protective proteins that effectively repaired the damage of my medical condition.
Reversed it, if only temporarily. Every new episode, where my muscles locked up and my head pounded in agony, was fresh destruction that had to be reconstructed by the toxin’s potent army of proteins.
And I still ran the risk of it reaching my heart.
I longed for the day when I could better control the toxin in a way that might allow a complete reversal of the faulty genetics that caused the disease. The same disease that’d ultimately killed my father.
It wasn’t the exaltation for what my research had the potential to achieve that I sought. I just wanted to fucking feel something again.
After cleaning the site with alcohol, I lined the needle to my vein and pushed it into my flesh. No sting. No burn of the liquid. Only a small bit of blood gathered around the wound, which I covered with cotton, then removed the syringe.
In any other lab, I’d have been disgraced for having used myself as a test subject. Lost my license and been blacklisted from academia.
Fortunately, Dracadia wasn’t any other university.