With that, she stalked off, head high, but inside, her stomach was churning. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just made an enemy out of the wrong man.
Conall watched Sin walk away, his gut roiling with a mix of emotions. Anger, lust, disappointment. He’d wanted her—hell, he still did—but she was clearly much more than a female who had fascinated him with her confidence and humor.
She was a cold-blooded killer.
He waited until she’d taken a corner and disappeared before entering E’s office, where the doctor was still standing, his body coiled as though he’d been ready to tear Conall’s head off. It took a full thirty seconds for Eidolon to turn his attention back to Valko, who was practically boiling with rage.
“I want that female’s head,” he snapped, and Conall winced, because clearly, the senior Warg Council member had no idea Sin was Eidolon’s sister.
“Touch her,” Eidolon said in a disturbingly reasonable voice, “and I’ll make sure you’re dead by the next morning.”
Conall brought his hand down on Valko’s shoulder. “Check up. We’ll deal with her later.” He gave his fellow Council member a squeeze, a silent message that right now, antagonizing Eidolon was not a bright idea.
Valko tensed, but the male wasn’t stupid, and he inclined his head in a brief nod. “I want to know what you plan to do about this plague.”
Dammit. Conall had warned the warg to not treat Eidolon as if the doctor was his servant, but there he went, and the demon’s eyes glazed over with ice.
“I’m doing all I can—”
“It’s not enough,” Valko barked. “Wargs are dying. The disease has spread to three continents and fifteen countries—”
“Maybe you could do better?” Eidolon suggested. “No doubt your medical training is superior to mine.”
Conall would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so dire.
Valko tensed even more, becoming a steel rod. “Apologies,” he gritted out. “But I’m sure you can understand my concern.”
“Of course I can.” Eidolon took a seat. “But there’s only so much I can do. The disease spreads so fast that putting out a call for quarantine hasn’t been effective, and I haven’t had any luck isolating mode of transmission. Direct contact seems to be a definite, but I don’t know if the pathogen is also airborne or transmitted by indirect contact. And as far as I can tell, no one who has come into contact with the infected victims has been immune.”
“Except me,” Conall said.
“Yes, but likely it’s your vampire blood that’s allowing for immunity. We’re experimenting with the possibility of using your natural antibodies to work up an immunization, but even if that’s possible, it could take years to come up with something usable in pure wargs.”
Conall cursed. This thing was moving so fast that he didn’t think his species had years. “What can we do to help?”
Eidolon blew out a breath. “Spread the word about this. I suggest that packs stay isolated for now. Keep away from other wargs. And if you hear about anyone not contracting the disease after contact with an infected warg, I need to know about it. Immediately.”
“You got it.”
Valko wanted to say something about Sin; Conall knew it. But in an uncharacteristic display of restraint, he thanked Eidolon and strode out of the office. When Conall followed, the doctor cleared his throat.
“Hold up, dhampire.”
Shit. Conall swung back around. “What’s up?”
“What’s going on between you and my sister?”
I fucked her, and man, it was good. “Nothing.”
Doubt put lines around Eidolon’s eyes, but he nodded. “Keep it that way.”
Conall didn’t say anything. He merely joined Valko in the hall. They walked in silence to the Harrowgate, and once the gate closed on them, Valko punched the symbols that would get them to Warg Council headquarters in Moscow.
When they stepped out, Valko took Conall by the arm. “I want to know everything there is to know about that female who brought this down on us. Whether Eidolon finds a cure or not, she will pay for what she’s done. And I want you to see to it.”
As soon as Conall and Valko were gone, Eidolon propped his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands. This had gotten out of control and beyond his ability to handle by himself.
Unfortunately, pretty much every demon doctor he knew of worked at UGH, and those who didn’t were surgeons or general practitioners. He needed infectious-disease specialists working on this problem.
And, actually, they were. He’d been watching the news, keeping up on the latest medical alerts, and the disease had caught the attention of human doctors.
Anatomically, wargs were no different than humans, and physicians wouldn’t pick up on the fact that the people they were treating turned into bloodthirsty beasts three nights out of the month. So yes, they were seeing a few cases of this mysterious new disease, but they would never in a million years figure out what connected them.
Still, anything they learned in their research would help Eidolon.