Tobias
There were circles under Quinn’s eyes as she worked, but she didn’t let on how exhausted she was—with the blatant exception of drinking three extra cups of tea in addition to the one I greeted her with this morning.
I made sure to add some extra honey after seeing the way she added more to the first, then spooned a more reasonable amount into my own.
The loose-leaf black tea was spiced with cardamom and cloves, a single star anise escaping the strainer into Quinn’s cup.
When I tried to fish it out with a spoon, Quinn shooed me away.
She smiled down at how its eight points whirled in wild circles every time I handed her a refill. The sight of her smile made my chest twist with something I refused to identify, even as I made a mental note to include another spinning star tomorrow.
I tried not to groan at the new rows of test tubes—the reminder that the original batch of potential antiviral compounds hadn’t worked.
It was hard not to feel discouraged, though Quinn had assured me that finding out what didn’t work was a crucial step in narrowing down what did.
Quinn finished imbuing the next round of compounds as I watched, wishing I could do more to help.
She seemed unusually melancholy today, and far quieter. Perhaps it was the events of last night weighing on her…or she was simply too tired from our ordeal in the tunnels to have her regular amount of cheer.
Even Dolion poured an extra cup of tea for himself as he helped add different compounds to Eva’s infected cells.
His skin looked sallow, a tinge of gray to his hair I hadn’t noticed before.
He sneered when he caught me watching him—though the second Quinn glanced over at us, he abruptly looked away.
His tone took on a simpering quality I hated more every time I heard him talk to her. It was an effort not to stand between them and pick my nails with my dagger as they discussed the most promising compounds based on their last round, and what they would try next should they fail.
Something about his smile made me the hair rise on the back of my neck.
Quinn, however, didn’t seem to find anything amiss.
She ran the tip of her pen across the seam of her lips as they went through the list together, snagging my attention more with each pass.
The unconscious but sensual movement heated my blood.
I turned to make a fresh pot of tea to distract myself… and so I wouldn’t get caught staring.
After I left her door last night, sleep eluded me despite my exhaustion.
Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see were her waterlogged curls plastered to her face, her chest unmoving as I begged her to breathe.
Every time I looked her way, all I could feel was her limp body in my arms as I pleaded with her to come back to me.
I had stared at the ceiling for most of the night, too scared to visit my nightmares about what could’ve happened instead.
Despite my best efforts, I drifted off sometime before sunrise. I woke sweaty and gasping, even though I had moved to the cold floor, the image of her drowning burned into my brain.
It had taken every bit of my concentration to push that narrowly subverted fate into the prison I had created.
There was a flash out of the corner of my eye, the glare bright enough that I stopped and stared. Quinn and Dolion were deep in conversation by his desk. Neither seemed to notice the sudden change in the sample they had been working on.
I cleared my throat. “Is it…supposed to do that?”
Quinn’s head whipped around, her eyes immediately finding the test tube. Her smile was so bright it rivaled the light coming from it.
Dolion merely arched an eyebrow. “It seems we have a viable compound. The light is a marker we use to show if a trial is successful.” He cleared his throat, like our joy was unbecoming.
“Of course, we’ll have to confirm that the treatment inhibits viral replication without harming healthy cells before moving on to the next round of testing. ”
“Of course,” I said wryly.
Quinn’s gaze was glassy as she stared at the fading light. I wanted to pick her up and twirl her around. To shout from the nearest window that her brilliance might have saved us all.
Instead, I crossed the room and took both of her hands in mine, holding them tightly. “You did it,” I whispered, my voice full of awe.
Smiling, she shook her head. “No, we did this, Maris.”
“I hope you realize it’s impossible to give you too much credit,” I quipped, though I meant every word.
Quinn’s smile grew. “As long as you realize I couldn’t have done it without—”
Dolion cleared his throat, his voice brusque as he grumbled, “As touching as this is, this is far from a cure. While the nature of magical compounds and the imbuing process generally rules out cytotoxicity—”
“—we still need to make sure it’s not harmful to healthy cells and tissues,” Quinn finished. Her excitement was tangible as she turned to me, explaining, “Next step is to make sure our antiviral can target the virus without causing too much damage to the body's normal functions.”
I smiled at her, her delight infectious. Quinn’s eyes widened, something like hope glimmering in them. She squeezed my hands once before letting go.
“Let’s get back to work.”
?
It was late by the time we finished for the day.
Quinn was still buzzing with renewed excitement, a wide grin on her face even with her fatigue.
She and Dolion had spent the day fine-tuning the potential cure’s chemical structure.
The draining medical and magical process had her leaning heavily against me as we walked back to our rooms. I kept my arm tightly wrapped around her despite her insistence that I wasn’t the only thing holding her upright.
My hand was cramped and aching after a day of writing down the different dosages we were testing, but I barely noticed now that it rested on her waist. Her flowy linen pants and cropped blouse left an inch of skin exposed…
and it was all I could do not to drag my thumb against it.
The sand-colored set was decorated with a delicate floral pattern, and I contented myself with tracing slow circles around the flower beside my thumb.
Quinn’s breath caught as my thumb trailed upward despite myself, a charge dancing between us the moment I touched bare skin.
Even that slight contact made my pulse race. She shivered slightly as I squeezed her hip, drawing her closer as we turned a corner. Suddenly all I could think about was if she would shiver like that if I had her splayed out on the nearest bed, writhing beneath my tongue.
She turned her face to mine, and I leaned in, our noses nearly brushing. She released a shuddering breath against my lips—
“There you two are,” Pari said from behind us, and we jumped apart. There was a laugh in her voice as she asked, “Were you planning on going in?”
I was so caught up in watching Quinn’s smile that I hadn’t realized we had reached our rooms. Pari smirked at me.
“Thinking about it,” Quinn said cajolingly.
She reached for the doorknob, and I stepped forward with her, not entirely sure if she would remain standing if I let go of her. A hollow sigh escaped her lips as I half-carried her through the doorway.
A mouthwatering scent hit me the second I did. I could barely remember the last time I felt hungry, let alone this ravenous. Rivan sprang to his feet from where he and Yael sat at the table, concern filled his gaze as he took in Quinn’s weary form.
“Quinn may have overdone it,” I muttered as she scowled at me.
Rivan’s magic glowed at his fingertips as he demanded, “Do you need a healer?”
“I’m fine,” Quinn said, sounding exasperated as she stumbled away from me. I remained close as she laboriously sat at the table, pushing her chair in for her. “Nothing food and rest can’t fix.”
Yael poured Quinn a glass of water. As she gulped it down, I added a few things that I knew she would like to her plate—grilled fish covered in cilantro, yellow mangos and watermelon dusted with spices, and a white fish ceviche—before making one for myself.
I was glad that my stomach was again interested in food, but I wished I was back home where every dish wasn’t quite so fishy.
Quinn gave me a grateful smile as I sat down beside her, pulling my chair closer to hers.
“I’m not going to pass out at the table.” The amusement was clear in Quinn’s voice as she took in the negligible space between our seats.
“After last night’s adventure, you should’ve spent today in bed,” I said crossly.
Quinn blinked at me, then a sly smile crept across her face. “Is that so?”
My cheeks heated as I replayed my own words, and victory danced in her eyes. I leaned closer tilting my head so my lips nearly brushed the shell of her ear, so only she could hear me.
“When this is over,” I drawled, my voice dipping low, “I’m going to make sure you get some rest, even if I have to tie you to the bedframe myself.”
It was her turn to flush. Her swallow and the heat in her gaze left no doubt about her desire for exactly that. I resisted the urge to throw her over my shoulder, carry her to my room, and make good on that promise now as all the blood in my body rushed south.
Clearing my throat, I sat back upright, muttering, “In the meantime, eat something. You’ll need your strength.”
Quinn’s lip twitched as she whispered, “Yes, sir.”
Those two words nearly tipped me over the edge, especially as she did as ordered.
I could feel Yael’s and Rivan’s attention on us as they kept talking.
By their body language alone, I knew their search hadn’t been fruitful.
Pari let me know this morning that the mirror was intact but closed.
It and the entrance to the tunnels remained guarded by a rotating contingent of Imyrian rangers.
“I hope whatever you did today was worth it,” Pari said, eyeing the way Quinn was scarfing down food at an alarming rate.